Catch a Falling Star by Lynette Sowell

corner of the sanctuary, way in the back.
    The little boy with the cap gun grinned at him. The child had dark hair and skin tone that spoke of his Mexican heritage. His missing front teeth reminded Billy of Ahmed, an Iraqi boy who had stolen his heart. Not far from Tikrit, Billy and his unit had supervised training the town’s police force and had helped the town find a source of safe drinking water after Saddam Hussein poisoned the wells . They also scouted the area for any groups of insurgents looking to cause trouble.
    Ahmed’s older brother was the one who’d laid those explosives on the road outside the village. Or maybe the leaders of his group, who swore allegiance to the Shia insurgence, had done it. For all the work that Billy and his band of brothers had done, virtually unnoticed in the news, they’d been rewarded with scars. He prayed every night for Ahmed, that he would stay in school and one day have the life of a normal six-year-old.
    Maybe he could never go back to the Middle East, but he could help other soldiers keep fulfilling their dream of making a difference in the world. Liberty was a dream for many of the Iraqis they worked with, and helping them realize the freedom of self-governing had been rewarding.
    Billy saw two familiar figures underneath a nearby vendor’s canopy. The banner on the front read Treasures From Azalea .
    Justine Campbell stood next to Azalea. She wore a giant floppy hat and large dark sunglasses, but that unmistakable smile gave her away. He figured she’d be hiding in that big house of hers until sundown, if she wasn’t pestering him about fancy boots. Of course, Aunt Zalea had a way of getting people to do what she wanted, not unlike Justine herself.
    This was the first time he’d seen Justine besides their trips to physical therapy in Temple for the past three weeks. He returned her smile and gave her a nod. What in the world was she doing at Market Days?
    Hopefully Justine hadn’t noticed his jumpy reaction to the cap gun. A man at church had made fun of Billy’s reflexes once, and Billy’s harsh words still rang in his ears. Even though he’d apologized, the friendship wasn’t the same after that. God, I don't want to alienate anyone else. I've worked so hard to get where I am right now. He strolled up to the canopy.
    Aunt Zalea beamed. “Billy Tucker, shopping at Market Days. Imagine that.”
    “I’m here with Maddie. She has some heavy-duty shopping to do.” He glanced around for his sister but didn’t see her.
    “Just think, by next summer she’ll have her license.”
    His stomach shot into his boots at the thought.  “You’re right. Guess I won’t have to tote her everywhere then.” Keeping track of her, though. That would be interesting. Funny how kids could ignore a phone call from family but answer right away when a friend sent them a text message.
    “So how are you doing?” asked Justine. She took off her sunglasses.
    Was he imagining it, or did she really look happy to see him? A light glinted in her eyes that he didn’t recall seeing before. Usually during their trips to therapy, neither of them felt like talking much.
    “Doing fine. I need to measure you for your boots, by the way.”
    “I dunno, Billy. That’s kind of a personal thing, you know.”
    A customer came up beside him and started rummaging through the oddities on Zalea’s table. Justine slid her sunglasses back on.
    “It’s not if you want good-fitting boots,” Billy flung back at her.
    She laughed, and the sound was the best thing he’d heard all day. No wonder guys lined up to see her. No wonder her star shone brightly before her accident. Billy felt himself getting pulled into the aura of her charm.
    Her expression grew serious. “I do need to talk to you, though. I found something when helping Azalea clean out a storage unit, and I hope you can give me an idea of what to do next.”
    “What’s that?”
    Justine darted a glance at the shopper then took off her