A Soldier for Christmas (9 page)

It was amazing someone so small could cry so loud and long, but how could Kelly mind? Holding the little one and rocking her until she calmed was a precious thing. After all, teething, even with all the ways to soothe tender gums, was painful business.

As she carefully rose from the comfy chair, she watched to make sure that the baby didn’t stir. With love, she eased Shannon into her snug crib, adorned with the cutest patterned sheets, and dodged the rainbow-colored mobile dangling overhead.

It would be so easy to start dreaming, Kelly thought, standing over the crib, not quite able to take a step away. Already her heart was forming a wish she could not give life to. And it was Mitch’s fault for being so wonderful, so everything a girl like her could ever want.

At least she had good control over her heart. The last time she’d made fairy-tale wishes for true love Joe had been taken from her. She’d learned her lesson the hard way too many times. Fairy tales weren’t real.

Taking care not to make a sound, she stepped back until she reached the doorway. So far so good. Since the baby didn’t stir, Kelly continued on, padding quietly down the hall, past the older child’s bedroom door, closed tight while he slept.

She made her way to the kitchen, and she couldn’t help the happiness rising up inside her. What a wonderful day she’d had. Not only had she aced her test, thanks to a few extremely important pointers from Mitch last week, but she’d had the best time with him.

Her spirit still felt uplifted as she ran hot soapy water in the sink and started washing up the supper dishes. The faint aroma of frozen pepperoni pizza lingered in the air as she scrubbed the stubborn baked-on cheese off the cookie sheet.

She was rinsing the soap off when a faint electronic tune sounded in the far corner of the room, from her half-unzipped backpack slung over one of the kitchen chairs. Who would be calling her this late? It was after ten. Drying her hands as she went, she snatched her cell phone out of the pack’s front pocket.

The ID screen only said Out of Area. Hoping it wasn’t her mother trying to get hold of her, she answered tentatively. “Hello?”

“I know it’s late.” Mitch’s baritone sounded short and strained. “I figured you’d still be babysitting.”

“Yep, for probably another thirty minutes. You know, I’m still smiling. I had the best day.”

“I know you did. Your eyes were shining.”

“At first I thought I’d drown, what with all the near-death experiences.”

“You didn’t even come close to drowning. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

“I know. I had complete confidence in you. Otherwise I would have never let you drag me out into the middle of that river in the first place.”

Yep, taking a chest full of shrapnel must feel just like this, Mitch thought. Deep, sharp cuts that exposed you clear to the heart. “We have new orders. We’re leaving. I wanted to say good-bye.”

“Wh-what? I thought you had another two weeks here.”

The raw places in his chest seemed to throb, as fresh wounds did when air touched them. “Yeah. Orders change all the time. Believe me, this is not the way I want it, but in thirty minutes, I’ll be on a bird out of here.”

“Just like that?” In the background there was a faint scraping sound, like a wooden chair against linoleum. He pictured her clearly sitting down in that graceful way she moved and a crinkle digging in above her nose, the one he liked so much. Her voice became thin and concerned. “It’s just so sudden. Is everything all right?”

“We lost a team and we’re being brought in to replace them.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Y-you’ll be coming back, r-right?”

He took a deep breath.
Please, Lord, help her to understand this.
He knew she had to be remembering how she’d lost Joe. “Believe me, I fully intend to come back. I’ve been doing this for a long time. I’m still here.”

“But what you do sounds dangerous.”

“I can’t lie and say it isn’t.” He wanted to say this right, for Kelly’s sake, ignoring the noise and bustle of his team packing up, all business. He was short on time. “We’re well-trained and well-equipped. I know how to take care of myself and my team. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Maybe I will anyway.”

“No way. Put that energy toward something useful. Like acing your math final.”

She didn’t say anything.

That troubled him. She’d had a lot of people move in and out of her life. She still didn’t trust him enough with those stories, but he could guess at what they were based on with what she’d already told him. In and out of foster care. Burying her fiancé. She’d known too much loss.

How did he make her see that he didn’t plan on contributing to it? He didn’t know. “No one can look ahead and see what’s to come, but that’s why we have faith, right?”

“Right. Faith is believing in things not seen. In trusting that the Lord will work things out for the good of His faithful.”

“Exactly. So have a little faith, okay? In God. And it wouldn’t hurt to have some in me, too.”

“I already do.” Her heart felt heavier with each breath. Her chest tighter. “Y-you have my e-mail address. If you get lonely over there, you’re always welcome to drop me a note.”

“I get awfully busy. I—” There was a lot of sound in the background. He came back on the line. “I’ve got to go. I just wish—”

Oh, she, too, wished that he didn’t have to go. “Be safe, Mitch.”

“I will. Goodbye, Kelly.”

I can’t take one more good-bye, Lord.
There was no way she could make herself say more to him, so she disconnected and sat in the silence and shadows.

By the time the plane had leveled out, the city of Bozeman was nothing but tiny pinpricks of light tossed in the velvety night. Mitch pressed forward against the cold glass window, trying to keep the city in view. Kelly was down there somewhere.

I needed more time with her, Lord.
It was tough to wrestle down his frustration. While he believed the Lord caused things to happen for a reason, what good could come of leaving her now?

I didn’t have enough time to win her heart.
It was like starting something he’d never have the chance of finishing. Like a loose end, unraveling. In another two weeks, maybe it would have been a different story. Now, he figured he might never know.

The city lights faded to black. The glacier crests of the Rockies below shone luminescent in the moonlight. Emptiness filled him like the wide endless stretch of the night. The gnawing feeling he’d left everything vital behind ate at him.

Kelly would be done with her babysitting job by now. She’d probably be heading home. She’d disconnected without saying good-bye.

That couldn’t be a good sign. Not a good one, at all.

So many regrets. He disliked every single one of them.

Images of their afternoon together stuck in his mind. How she’d dazzled him when he’d pulled her up out of the water. He could still hear her laughter. How tender she’d made him feel. How right she’d been in his arms. The vanilla scent of her shampoo.

How could it be that the day wasn’t yet over and he already missed her?

This might have been God’s leading, but Mitch also knew with absolute certainty that she was his heart’s choice.

In the well-lit apartment parking lot, Kelly locked her car door and glanced around the dark vehicles to make sure she was safe. The only movement was the shadows of the trees when the breeze rustled them. She sorted through the keys on the ring as she walked up the sidewalk. High overhead an airplane rumbled. It was a passenger jet from the local airport, not a military plane, but she thought of Mitch heading toward places unknown. Toward dangers unknown. And that made her feel as vulnerable as an exposed nerve.

There was no comfort in the hot, still night as she unlocked the front door and stepped into the darkness. Cool air blew over her as she crept into the kitchen, careful not to make a noise. Lexie was probably asleep by now, she thought as she opened the fridge and pulled out an orange soda.

But there was no comfort from the sugary drink. While the bubbles hissed and popped in the stillness, she curled up in the overstuffed chair in the living room where the moonlight and the glow from the streetlights fell through the window and onto her.

Mitch’s words came back to her, rubbing on the exposed nerves in her heart.
I get awfully busy. I— I’ve got to go.

In other words, she shouldn’t count on him writing to her. She remembered his saying it was rare for him to have much free time. So, he was going to be way too busy to keep in touch. And, in time, too busy to remember her.

And if that made her sad, it wasn’t like she was going to admit it. This was just as well—and how things were meant to be. The way she wanted it. She was keeping herself here on the riverbank of life. And she was afraid that if she reached out for those good, rare blessings she wanted, they would be whisked from her grasp.

Just like always.

Just like Joe had been.

Her devotional was in her backpack, and she dug it out. She couldn’t remember the morning’s passage—it had been such a long day. She felt a craving for the Scripture and flipped to the morning’s text.

She gazed out at the night stars. Mitch was out there somewhere.

Keep him safe, Lord. He’s a good man. Please give him a piece of the happiness You have in store for me.

It was all she had to give him. Mitch had his life, she had hers. That was the way it was. But she would always hold close the memories of their friendship. She would always treasure the chance to have gotten to know such a good man.

K
elly sat in a quiet corner of the campus cafeteria in the wash of the early-fall morning sunlight. Outside the sparkling windows other students hurried to their classes. She took a sip of coffee and turned the page of her sociology book.

Deep in the pocket of her backpack, her cell phone began to ring. Probably Amy calling to confirm—or to cancel—babysitting for a few nights this week. Kelly flipped open her phone. It wasn’t Amy. She didn’t recognize the number, but it wasn’t a local one.

She answered it, and popping static filled her ear. “Hello?”

“Can you hear me okay?” asked a deep, familiar baritone that sounded very far away.

No, it couldn’t be. “Mitch? Is that you?”

“The one and only. I’m just glad you remember me. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to you.”

How did she tell him that the days of September had slipped away like water down a drain, but he had been in her prayers every one of them. “You sound like you’re calling from the moon.”

“Just about. I feel like I’m in another world. There are no ice-cream cones here.”

Oh, he sounded so good—so good and alive and strong…just like Mitch. She closed her eyes, and there he was in her mind’s eye that day on the river. Standing waist-deep in water and grinning at her with a challenge. So larger than life and vital, looking as if nothing could hurt him. Of course, she knew that he was as vulnerable as anyone. “I can’t believe it. I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

“No way. You just try and get rid of me. I thought we were…friends.”

“We are.” The light in her heart brightened.

“I’ve got about ten minutes on this card. It has to be early there.”

“It’s twenty past seven in the morning, but I’m already on campus. Sitting in the cafeteria and trying to get some reading done before class. It’s good to hear you. I’ve been—” Missing you. “—worried about you.”

“Hey, I miss you. The guys I hang with aren’t nearly as pleasing to the eye. How did the math final go?”

“I pulled an A. Thanks to you, but you don’t want to hear about my classes.”

“Sure I do. I put you in prayer every night. Even when I’m out with my team doing things I can’t tell you about, in places I can’t tell you about either. Let’s just say you’re on my list, Kelly.”

“L-list?”

Mitch’s chest hitched painfully at the uncertainty in her voice. Nearly four weeks had passed since he’d left, and yet everything came back in a single heartbeat. The way her honey-blond hair gleamed. The dark-blue strands in her jeweled eyes. How her smile lit up his world.

She was the one. Thousands of miles away and continents apart, mighty affection crashed through him like a tsunami.

Whatever he did, he couldn’t let her know. Not yet. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her. He cleared his throat. “The list of the best things, to get me through. You know: ice-cream cones, riding the rapids, walking in the sunshine with a good friend.”

“Right. That list.” She sounded relieved, relaxed.

He was glad about that. They were friends now, but in time, he thought they could be more.

Her gentle alto warmed. “You’re on my list, too.”

“That means a lot. You can’t guess how much.” He didn’t know how to tell her how tough the past weeks had been. It was a different planet where he was, or it seemed that way, where the phone bank was a luxury, and the fact that he’d had a lukewarm shower and hot chow for the first time in three weeks felt like a blessing. So were phone cards. His time was ticking away, and he hated that.

“When you called me before you left last month, you mentioned a team that was l-lost.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, briefly, to hold everything in. “Yep. No one died. They were lucky, but there were serious casualties.”

“Anyone you knew?”

“Yep. All of ’em. Don’t worry. Those guys in 3rd Recon aren’t as superior as my platoon.”

She heard the catch in his voice. “I suppose you’re invincible, huh, Mr. Action Figure?”

“Nope, just very careful. I intend to make it back home. You liked floating the rapids so much, I thought I might make good on my threat to take you mountain-climbing.”

“I’m going to hold you to that threat.”

His voice rumbled with reassurance. “Then we’ve got a deal. I’ll be here in camp for a bit. They have us training pretty hard, but I’ll be able to e-mail.”

The line was crackling worse. “Mitch, I can barely hear you.”

“Time’s up. I’ve got to—”

There was a click and then nothing.

Be safe, she added silently as she disconnected.

The noise of the cafeteria was increasing around her as more students filed in for a quick breakfast. The tables nearby filled with students who gathered in groups to talk or sit quietly alone with their books and their coffee.

How come Mitch had such a hold on her heart? It took all her effort to turn her attention back to the work before her. She kept going over their conversation, over the sound of his voice. She kept picturing him, so handsome and capable in his camouflage clothing. Her heart gave a tug of admiration.

Careful, Kelly. No dreaming allowed.

Her phone rang again. Foolish seeds of hope sparked inside her, but it was Amy’s number on the ID screen. Life went on as it should—with school, work and babysitting.

She knew better than to hope for more, but she sure wanted to.

Mitch hung up the phone. The hootch around him buzzed with pieces of conversations between other soldiers and loved ones at home, making him feel more alone than ever. Kelly was just so far away.

He tried to picture her in a campus cafeteria, probably lots of tables and chairs, noisy talking and the clatter of flatwear and dishes. She’d said she was reading, but was she studying? Or reading her devotional? He should have asked more questions to fill in the missing pieces.

She’d probably bought a cup of coffee, but anything else? A muffin? A breakfast sandwich? What was she wearing? It could get pretty cool in Bozeman—probably a pair of jeans and one of those feminine cotton blouses she was always wearing. Maybe with a sweater. Was her hair pulled back in a ponytail with those little silken wisps curling around her face, or was it unbound, falling in a long sleek wave past her shoulders?

Not enough time. Not time on the phone and nowhere near enough time with her in Montana. When a man got down to it, there was never enough, not in a life, and he hated this feeling of regret. Of leaving things unfinished. His life had always been tidy, he liked things that way. It’s what made him a good Force Recon marine. But the loose ends he’d left when he’d said good-bye to Kelly were ones he feared would unravel with distance.

There’s not much I can do from here, he thought. His way of life was rugged and solitary, and there was no room for much else but his work. It would be simple just to let this go, whatever it was building between him and Kelly. That would be the safest route. That way he wasn’t putting anything on the line. But he didn’t want to move on from her, not deep down.

As uncertain as the path ahead was, he was committed. He was going to risk it all. She was far away, but he would do what he could.

He’d write her and he’d keep writing her until this tour was over and he was back on American soil.

While the noodles from her box of macaroni and cheese were boiling, Kelly set up her laptop on the dinette table in the eating nook and went online.

Should she be checking her e-mail? No. She had a ton of reading to do, but could she concentrate?

No way. Her conversation with Mitch had been on her mind all day. Of course.

Hearing his voice had done her heart good. Her day had been brighter as she hurried across campus from one class to another, took notes, grabbed a bite to eat on her way to her afternoon shift at the bookstore. Knowing that he hadn’t forgotten her, that he still wanted to be friends, meant more than she wanted to admit to herself or to anyone.

She popped up from the table to give the noodles a stir—they were bubbling merrily on medium high—and then returned to study her screen. There was a new e-mail. Already? She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her computer screen still looked the same—it wasn’t her imagination. There really was an e-mail from Mitch. She opened it and started reading.

Kelly,

No hand-dipped cones here. Chow hall pizza isn’t half bad, except there are no cheesy sticks. But no complaining there. It’s a step up from the meals in a can I get when we’re out. Base camp is basically a lot of tents, but we’ve got heat most of the time. I’m glad I got hold of you this morning. Good to hear a friendly voice from home. How did your classes go today? The next time you order pizza, eat a slice for me.

Mitch

The stove timer beeped a rhythmic electronic warning, dragging her away from Mitch’s note. Already she felt happy as she drained the pasta, measured out the margarine and milk and stirred in the powdered cheese packet. Adding a generous sprinkling of pepper, she stirred until the cheese was warm and melted and dumped it onto a plate. On her way back to the laptop she grabbed a fork and sat down.

After a quick blessing over her food, she reread Mitch’s e-mail, wondering what on earth to say back. He would probably be bored by her life; after all, he got to do all kinds of exciting things in a day. Her life was almost as boring as you could get.

She tried to picture living in a large camp of tents, but she could only imagine reruns of a seventies TV show that she’d watched over the years. Maybe it was something like that, sleep in one tent, shower in another, eat in another. If he’d mentioned the blessing of having heat that worked, then he had to be somewhere very cold.

She had no clue what to write. As she munched on her mac and cheese, she gazed out the window at the turning poplar leaves and the sunset blazing purple and magenta across the dome of the darkening sky. What would she say if he was standing in front of her?

Her heart stirred, and she started to type.

Mitch,

You don’t know what it means to me that we can keep our friendship going when you’re so far away. I get pretty wrapped up with studying—don’t be shocked—I’m a little bit of a study-aholic, to use Lexie’s term. Between trying to keep my A average and work enough hours to meet my monthly bills, I have about two hours left over in a week for a social life—which is mostly attending a weekly Bible study.

Lexie has been a blessing for a roommate because she tends to drag me places with her, like on Sunday afternoon. We went to the Museum of the Rockies with a couple of her friends and looked at fossils and Native American artifacts.

You’re laughing, aren’t you? Because that is so not a social life by most people’s definition. The college group at church is having a singles’ get-together at the town ice cream parlor next Friday night. Lexie has already told me she’s meeting me after my shift at the bookstore and dragging me there. Should be fun.

Not only will I have a slice of pizza for you, but I’ll make the sacrifice of eating a hand-dipped chocolate ice-cream cone for you, too. I’ll suffer, sure, but friendship is worth it.

Blessings to you, and stay safe.

P.S. What kind of meals come in a can?

Kelly

As she polished off her meal, Kelly reread the e-mail, corrected spelling and sent it. It wasn’t as if he’d have time to e-mail her for a while, but it felt good to write to him.

Maybe God had placed Mitch on her path because He knew how solitary her life had been since she’d buried Joe. Maybe He knew that Mitch needed a friend too, being so far from home and in danger.

She took comfort in that.

“Hey, I’m off to the library.” Lexie burst out of her bedroom in a flurry. “Where did I put my card? I’m losing my mind. That’s what I get for majoring in psychology. They say you gravitate toward what you need most, which is apparently therapy for me. Oh, now where did my keys go?”

“Over here.” Kelly blinked to bring her eyes into focus, she’d been reading solidly for the past two hours. Night had fallen and the heat had kicked on. The weather was getting colder. She thought of Mitch and hoped that wherever he was, he was keeping warm. She grabbed the ring of keys on the coffee table by her mug of herbal tea and gave them a toss.

Lexie caught them. “Thanks. Oh, and I’d better leave the rent check with you now, or I’ll totally forget tomorrow. I’ve got it written out and everything.” She pulled a check out of her pocket and dropped it on the counter. “I’ll be back late. Anything you need while I’m out? Okay, I’m gone. See ya!”

Alone once again, Kelly tried to sink into her reading, but no such luck. In theory, her mind should be occupied enough with her studies to completely shove out every last thought of Mitch Dalton.

The practical aspect was a little different. Since she was never going to be able to concentrate properly unless she checked, she popped online while she microwaved another cup of apple cinnamon tea. Like he’d had time to answer her. No, not when she hadn’t heard from him in a month. He’d already called, he’d already e-mailed.

She was not going to analyze the fact that she was hoping he’d answered. Apparently, Lexie wasn’t the only one in need of therapy.

What she was not going to do was to check. She was going to go on to the library’s Web site and do a little preliminary research for her next paper. Then, when she was done, she’d check her e-mail account.

The computer made an electronic bleep. An instant message popped on the screen from Mitchell Dalton. Kelly, got time to type at me?

The light inside her brightened another notch. She started to type.

For you, Mr. Action Figure, sure. I didn’t know your extensive scouting skills included the ability to instant message.

She hit Send and waited. In a few moments, his answer popped on the screen.

I know a lot of stuff. So, what’s this about a singles’ meeting?

Now why would he ask that? she wondered. He was probably interested in the ice cream. She typed, You know the creamery shop downtown?

He answered in an instant. They have the best banana splits.