The Soldier's Holiday Vow (10 page)

He spread the cloth over the polished fender and chrome-accented grille. Remembering the change that widened September's expressive eyes when he'd taken her hand, he had to believe there was a possibility. Maybe a small one, maybe bigger, he didn't know. He had to let her know how she felt. Life was too short to waste the chance for something great.

 

“I should have known.” Chessie strode out of the main aisle, dressed to ride. “You couldn't stay away, could you?”

“No lectures, please.” She had enough on her mind without trying to convince her sister that she wasn't going to break into pieces. “Did you just get here, or are you finishing up?”

“I've got Princess saddled for the arena, but we haven't
started yet. It's pretty crowded.” Chessie didn't seem too concerned about it. “We could take a trail ride, if you want. They opened the lower trail, so it's safe.”

“That's a relief. I'm glad to know that won't happen to anyone again.” She stopped by her cubicle, set up in one of the forward stalls. Her desk was tidy, although a huge stack of mail and another of messages had built up. “I need to call Mrs. Toppins and check on Crystal today. Make sure she's still getting better.”

“I'm surprised you aren't spending the afternoon with that Hawkins guy.”

“There's plenty of the afternoon left for that.” She knew a comment like that would drive her sister nuts, and so she smiled as she flipped through the address file on her desk. She found the Toppins' card with their home info and slipped it into her jean pocket. She would call from home later. “How did it go with Jon Matthews?”

“And that's your business, why?” Chessie didn't sound as harsh as usual, although she was sure trying to.

September wasn't fooled. “Because you're my sister, as you are so fond of telling me.”

“That much is true.” She ambled up to the desk and took Tim's picture from the hutch shelf. “I'm going to the dinner with him. It's been awhile since I've had a date.”

“That's because you try to keep everyone at a comfortable distance.” September sidled up to look at Tim's picture, too. Even years later it continued to hurt to see what she had lost, but not as much, she realized. She could study Tim in his army dress uniform without feeling as if she were crumbling into pieces. When he
had died, much of her had died, too. So much that it didn't seem possible that she would go on living.

His dark hair, his kind brown eyes, his dependable presence pulled at her, true, but not in the same way. She thought of all the good times they'd had together—bowling, because he had been so fond of it, going on church outings, picnics in the rain. Those memories were delightfully hazy, like something good out of her past, images she would always smile over.

But images she no longer pined for. Times she had loved, but were gone now. That future was forever gone, but she could go on living. She understood that now. She began to realize how lost she'd become and how much of her had died with Tim. Sadness filled her. She still loved him, except that love had inexplicably changed. It had grown like the memories—dear and forever sweet, but no longer possible.

She could not spend the rest of the days the Lord had given her living for the past.

September set the picture on the shelf and let go. “I'm glad you agreed to go out with Jon.”

“Me, too.” Chessie led the way to the aisle, waving to a few fellow riders as they passed by. “Since we've talked about my love life, it's only fair we talk about yours.”

“Mine?
I don't have a love life.” What on earth could her sister be talking about? She whipped down the aisle, vaguely realizing she was moving faster than usual. “Don't tell me you want me to start dating again?”

“I thought you already were.”

Had Chessie lost her mind? Comanche nickered a
welcome and pressed his nose into her hands. She took a moment to greet him, wondering what her sister could possibly be thinking. Then it struck her. “I'm not dating Hawk.”

“Aren't you?”

“This is me you're talking to. Me.” She couldn't imagine anything so preposterous. Her pulse thundered so hard, it was like thunder in her ears. “We are friends. Trust me, there's nothing romantic going on.”

“Fine, okay, no need to get so defensive. That's
my
personality defect.” Chessie crossed her arms over her chest. “I was just asking, that's all.”

“You have to know Hawk and I can't be more than friends.” Since Comanche was teething her zipper, she helped him out and unwrapped a couple of the candies from the peppermint supply she always kept in her coat pocket. “It's totally casual.”

“Fine. I believe you.”

I wish I did
, September thought as she watched Comanche crunch happily on his treats. Something had happened in the house today when Hawk had given her his keys, some indefinable spark of emotion that made her see him not as a friend, but as a man. A wonderful and charming man who had rescued her from her sorrow as surely as he had carried her out of the mine shaft.

You cannot care about Hawk,
she ordered herself as she led Comanche down the aisle.
You must not care for him like that.

Colleen strolled into the tack room, changing the track of the conversation. After a brief chat and saddling
up, she and Chessie hit the trail. The mountainside smelled crisp from the cold and the pine scent of the forest was a perfect complement to the time of year. With Christmas a little more than a week away, she and Chessie tossed around ideas on gifts for Dad and Estelle, their stepmom, who was especially hard to shop for. They talked about last-minute gifts and donations to the church's charity tree.

September couldn't remember the last time the foothills had looked so beautiful. The crystal-blue sky stretched from emerald mountainsides to the sparkling blue-gray water of the Puget Sound, and the sun shone with a brilliance she hadn't seen in years. By the time their ride was over, the temperature had fallen and the winds had risen. Shivering, they hurried their horses into the barns and talked while they rubbed them down, stabled them and headed back to their vehicles.

Chessie raised an eyebrow at Hawk's truck. “I'm only going to say this once, and then I'll leave it be.”

“I know you, sister dear. That's impossible.” Since she knew what was coming, she wanted to keep it light, so she hit the remote, which unlocked the doors, and tossed Chessie a troublesome grin.

“No, it isn't, and do you know why?” She unlocked her sensible conservative beige sedan. “Because you are like your old self again. I have my sister back. But what I have to say is for your own good.”

“It always is.” She couldn't help it. She wrapped Chessie in a big hug, because she loved her. No one
could ask for a better champion or a better sister. “You don't have to worry about me anymore.”

“That won't stop me.” She was smiling as she opened her car door. “Hawk isn't just a soldier, he's a Ranger. He does dangerous things in dangerous places all over the world. Just like Tim did.”

“I know.”

Chessie's words stayed with her on the short drive home, a warning she could not ignore. Just as she could not ignore the comforting warmth of his friendship, the way she could depend on him and how alive she felt because of him. Maybe it was simply the basic connection to another person, something she had been avoiding for too long, that had done that. Maybe that was why he was a balm to her wounds—she didn't know—but she was glad Hawk was in her world. Very glad.

She parked the truck in her driveway, shut off the lights and locked the doors. Sunset was settling in to the western sky, brushing bold streaks of violet and rose, and burnishing treetops with a heavenly golden glow.

“Welcome home.” Hawk appeared on the front step, a welcoming friend, a cherished buddy and more. “Perfect timing. I just took dinner out of the oven.”

“Dinner? Did you warm up the Thai leftovers?”

“Not a chance, gorgeous. I made my famous tuna and noodle casserole just for you.” He strolled closer, bringing the sunset with him.

A connection bound them, she couldn't deny it. Her spirit brightened and her world came into perfect focus all because he took her hand.

“H
awk, I can't believe you did all this.”

The joy layering her voice was all the reward he needed. He'd worked the entire afternoon, first in her garage and then her kitchen. He wanted her to know the man he was. He was glad he'd taken the time to set the table with the china he'd found in the upper cabinets and candles standing in crystal holders. He shrugged. “It's nothing fancy, but I thought it might hit the spot.”

“It smells amazing.” She took off her coat, and he was there to help her with it. The floral scent of her hair, the winter wind on her clothes, the healthy glow to her cheeks made him want to memorize the moment. If only he could slow down time and make this evening last forever.

“Where did you learn to cook like that?” She took the coat from him and hung it over the back of one of the breakfast bar chairs.

“My mom.” He took matches out of his pocket and
broke one from the book. “She was a firm believer a boy should know his way around the kitchen.”

“Smart woman.” September nodded approvingly, and he didn't miss the appreciation in her gaze.

“She is a chef.” He struck the match and touched the flame to the first taper. “I was one lucky kid. Mac and cheese took on a whole new meaning at my house. I'll have to make that for you, too, sometime. The best on the planet.”

“I won't argue.”

“Good. Then it's a date.” Why that word popped out, he couldn't say. Probably his subconscious at work, already well aware of what his conscious mind wasn't quite ready to admit, even to himself. The candles lit, he shook out the match and set it in the sink. “I ought to have you over to my place, maybe after Christmas. I'll do the works. A fancy salad, garlic bread and some sparkling grape juice.”

“I'll bring dessert. I make a pretty good chocolate cheesecake.”

“Great. We could do it for New Year's Eve, unless you have plans.”

“Not me. Chessie was going to drag me over to her house, but now she's going out with this guy she's had a crush on forever.” She was talking a little fast as he pulled out a chair at the table for her. “So that leaves me free.”

“Good for her. Good for us.” He helped her scoot in her chair, trying hard to sound casual. She needed that security, he understood. She wasn't ready for serious yet. For a Ranger trained to successfully face, execute
and complete every mission, he was out of his depth. His training did no good. There wasn't a force strong enough on this earth to stop the tides of his heart. He had no defense against it. He could only do his best to be what she needed—a friend and nothing more. He circled around to his chair and dropped into it. “I'll rent a movie and we can make a real evening of it.”

“Perfect, since we both would be home alone otherwise.” She draped the cloth napkin over her lap, dainty as could be. “Part of the mountain trails are open again. It's safe.”

“Funny, it's been so long ago that this area was mined for silver. Everyone's forgotten those old days. You have to wonder how many mine heads were covered over with boards, and time and the forest did the rest.” He held out his hands, thinking that time changed all things. Looking at the amazing woman across the table, he had to wish that her decision never to love again might be left behind and forgotten, too. “Do you want to say the blessing, or should I?”

“Are you kidding? You
are
the guest and the cook.”

Was it his imagination, or did her fingers tighten on his? Was the warmth in her voice of a deeper tone? Profound tenderness welled up within him, refreshing to a part of him that he didn't know was wrung out and worn. With hope, he bowed his head in prayer. “Dear Lord, thank You for these blessings we are about to receive and for strengthening our friendship. Please guide us in being your helpful servants in all ways, amen.”

“Amen.”

He liked the way her sincere alto blended with his voice. He adored the reverent way she bobbed her head, a little end to her praying, and flashed him a megawatt smile. Full of life and dazzlingly wholesome. Not the September he remembered from long ago or the sad woman who had lost her true love, but a new woman, more beautiful than she had been before.

“How was your ride?” Since he'd been the cook, he grabbed her plate and dished up a serving of casserole. He did his best to keep it casual. “At least it didn't rain for you.”

“Unlike yesterday when we were riding.” She sparkled with amusement as she took the plate he offered. “Chessie was there.”

“I didn't know your sister still rode.” He scooped up a helping for himself.

“Oh, she loves to ride, she just stopped being horse crazy in her teens. Something I have never successfully been able to do.” She spooned out a few pieces of buttered carrots and asparagus, lifted the vegetable bowl and passed it to him. “Otherwise I would have gone to college and become a librarian like my sister.”

“You, a librarian? I can't see it. That would put you indoors all day.” He dished up a heap of vegetables. “Although I'm sure you would make a fantastic one, if that's what you decided you wanted.”

“I can't see myself boxed in all day. I love working with horses and with kids. Even the barn work puts me in a good mood. The horses always do something funny, even Mel.”

“Who's Mel?”

“He's this incredibly obstinate horse. He belongs to the stable. Colleen, my boss, heard from the vet about this gelding who was terribly neglected and needed a home. That's how we get a lot of our rental horses, sadly enough. People either come on hard times and can't pay for the substantial cost of keeping a horse or they are abusive.”

“So the horse I rode yesterday had been rescued?”

“Yep. He was put in my section of the barn, so I got to befriend him and I was in charge of his care. That was five years ago now.” She poked the tines of her fork into the casserole. “General was grateful for the care and kindness he received. It took him a good while to trust again, but when he did it was with his entire heart. That happens most of the time, but not with Mel. No, Mel has a mind of his own.”

“In a good way, or a bad way?” He leaned toward her as if he really wanted to know.

“It's sort of mixed.” She took a bite, shocked by the amazing explosion of taste on her tongue. “This is really good. As in, great. This was all in my pantry?”

“I ran to the grocery store in your truck.” His confession came quietly, almost sheepishly. “I had to test it out. Make sure the starter worked.”

“Sure. So you planned this all along?”

“I had hoped to help you out, that's all, like friends do for one another all the time.”

“I can't argue with that. This is amazing.” She took another bite.

“Back to Mel,” he prompted, although he looked
pleased with her compliment. “You can't leave me in suspense.”

“Mel likes to amuse himself at our expense. He's figured out that he isn't going to be hit or beat or abused no matter what he does. As if. Anyway, at first, I thought he was just testing. When I had him tied in the aisle while I cleaned his stall, he would unlatch other stalls with his teeth. I would look up and a horse would be loose—a serious thing—and he would be in their stall eating their grain.”

“Sounds like a little ingenuity to me.”

“I finally figured out he could untie his lead, so I had to use one with a metal hatch. Then he started nipping me when I had my back to him. When I turned around, he always stood there so innocently. So I had to tie him farther down the row, and he would practically incite a riot with the other horses while I mucked out his stall. I would have to put down my pitchfork and go see why a half dozen horses were rearing and neighing in their stalls like fire had broken out.”

“He wanted your attention.”

“It took me longer than you to figure that out. He was such a handful. Always knocking over any bucket he came across, making sure I got as wet as he did at bath time. I would take him out for a ride to stretch his legs and he'd take the bit between his teeth, ignore me completely and charge like a lunatic over the nearest fence. Then he would walk around, still ignoring me, arrive at the gate to be let in only to do it all over again. This was all with his good-old-boy attitude. I couldn't stay mad at him.”

“He ought to jump those obstacle things. Like in competitions.”

“I finally figured that out, too. He's blissfully happy carrying little students on his back over the jumps in the arena. He's a character.”

“I'm not surprised you helped him to be happy again.”

“I think it was his indomitable spirit.” She was blushing as she speared an asparagus tip. She stared at her fork, because it was easier. If she saw the regard on Hawk's handsome face, it would affect her. She wasn't ready for that.

“Either way, it's a good story. I suppose those stables are full of them.”

“Every horse, every rider.” She wasn't about to bore him with a hundred horse tales. “Your turn. Tell me something about Mark Hawkins. Something that no one else knows.”

“I
am
a walking mystery,” he quipped, showing off that sense of humor she was fond of. The candlelight softened the hard planes of his rugged face, making him twice as striking. It was easy to imagine him in a tux and equally simple to see him suited and booted for a mission. He took a swig from his juice glass. “I want to trek through Nepal. I want to learn to play the guitar. I want to marry the love of my life and grow old with her.”

“You're a romantic.” The words caught in her throat. His confession moved through her, and a strong and new image tried to wedge its way into her brain, but she could not let it. She absolutely could not allow it. She reached for her juice glass to wash away all traces
of emotion. “I can see you sitting on the porch with a pretty woman, both of you gray and wearing spectacles.”

“I'm glad you can see it. That makes one of us. Hoping is different than believing.”

Her grip slipped on her glass. The contents splashed dangerously, but she was able to set it on the table without incident. Whew. For a moment there, she thought he was talking about the two of them. But no, that was her mind at work, not his. “I'm sure it will happen for you. One day you will meet the right woman and you will know she's meant to be on that porch with you.”

“I pray that you are right.” He looked forlorn for a moment, as if he were afraid he would never find that right woman. As if he would never be loved. “If I can let any woman close, that is.”

Sympathy rushed through her. She knew exactly how it felt to look at the future and see nothing of what once had been her deepest desire. No loving marriage, no children, no happily ever after. Life would be good and wonderful, of course, but it wouldn't be as rich without a lifetime of love and family. She didn't want that for him. “I'll keep you on my prayer list. I'm sure God has the right woman for you all picked out. It's just a matter of when.”

“I'm sure that's true.” He pasted on a smile, but it was only a superficial one. She was surprised love meant so much to him.

Hard not to like him more for that. She swirled her fork and spooled pasta in slow twirls. “I tell you what. Until you find that special someone, I will be your date
every New Year's Eve to come, unless you're away on a deployment, of course.”

“I would like that.” His grin widened, but his eyes continued to look sad, as if doubt were weighing him down. Maybe a little loneliness, too.

She knew what that was like. Her feelings took a dangerous dip.
I do not care about Hawk,
she told herself, but it was no longer the truth. She did care.

Far too much.

 

“I am looking forward to going back home.” Hawk gave the nonstick pan a good swipe with the dish towel and pronounced it dry. He hiked over to the cabinet next to the stove and piled it into place on the shelf. “I'm especially psyched to see Pierce get married.”

“You get a kick out of that, don't you?”

“I do. It's the real thing. This will work out for them. Pierce will be happy.” He rejoined her at the sink and waited for the strainer she was in the middle of rinsing.

“How do you know?” She was curious. She'd only met Tim's brother twice, but he seemed like a nice guy.

“Pierce lives for his fiancée.” He took the pot lid and gave it a good rubbing. “You would like her. Her name is Lexie and she's into horses, too. She grew up with them, or something. I'll have to pay more attention next time I hear her talking about it.”

He liked that his comment was met with an amused shake of her head. September smiling was what he lived for.

“I'll have to introduce you.” He squinted at the lid—
dry—and stowed it in the cabinet. “She's transferring from a university in Montana to go to school in Tacoma, after they get back from their Hawaiian honeymoon.”

“I would love to meet her.” She bent over the sink to give it a good cleaning with the dishcloth. “We could go riding together.”