The Soldier's Holiday Vow (14 page)

The piano burst into life, cheerfully banging out the first notes to “Jingle Bells,” and everyone in the room sang along with the melody. The room was crowded—besides Pierce's family, all of Frank's grown kids circled around the piano. The younger cousins from the other uncle had settled on the floor. The fire crackled, the Christmas tree glistened and snow gusted against the big bay window.

In the center of the room sat the happy couple. Pierce, looking pretty satisfied, had his arm around his bride. Tomorrow at two o'clock in the century-old church in town, they would join their lives as one. They were going to be happy. He was happy for them. Couldn't happen to a better couple, but all this true love and happily ever after made him think of what he had lost.

September. Somehow he would go on without her, not that it would be easy. She hadn't lost her heart, the way he had. He still loved her. It was as if his heart could not help feeling hers, and his caring unstoppable. What was the right thing to do? Did he turn away from her or help her?

He lifted his voice in song with the others, but his spirit wasn't in it.

R
ain pinged off the windshield of September's truck as she pulled into the riding stable's graveled lot. It was still early on Christmas Eve morning and the place was quiet. She eased to a stop next to Colleen's SUV. Sitting in this truck was a constant reminder of Hawk. Every time she started the engine and it turned over without a hitch, she had him to thank.

It wasn't only the truck. Every time she walked beneath the gutter, it didn't leak. Every time she turned on her Christmas tree lights. Every time she saw those stars lighting up her front yard at night. She thought of him, the man she had sent away. He'd gone home to his family. Soon he would be deploying to a war zone. He was out of her life for good.

That was what she wanted, right? She didn't know anymore. The thought of never seeing him again killed her. An iron band had cinched around her ribs, squeezing tighter and tighter with every memory he'd left her.

Pain she had not been able to drive from her heart. She had sent him away thinking it was the one way to protect herself from pain, but she had been wrong. She yearned to see his rugged face, to hear the deep notes of his voice, to feel safe and protected and whole again whenever he towered at her side.

Stop thinking of him, September.
She launched out of the truck and closed the door with a bang that echoed like a gunshot in the nearly empty lot. A few vehicles were parked near the barn's entrance. The car and SUV she recognized as belonging to owners dropping by to ride their horses, but the white pickup sure looked like Hawk's.

Don't be silly,
she told herself. All she could see was the top of the cab and the truck's bed. Plenty of people drove white trucks. It wasn't his. Hawk wouldn't come back to Fort Lewis until after Christmas and his trek in the backcountry. Gravel crunched beneath her boots, and she swiped rain from her face. Disappointment sank through her. Proof how badly she cared for him.

Be honest, September. You don't just care for him.

A movement caught her eye, a flash of red in the gray rain. A man's shadowed form swaggered out of the barn. Her palms went damp. Her knees turned to gelatin. Only one man had ever had that effect on her—one wonderful man.

Hawk. Joy exploded through her at the mere sight of him shouldering out into the rain. She drank in the sight of his cherished face, his blue eyes. His stalwart, noble presence made her feel alive.

“Figured I would find you here.” He jammed his fists
into his pockets. He didn't look like a man who was glad to see her.

No, he wouldn't be, she reminded herself.
You broke his heart, remember? You hurt him to save yourself.
She wasn't proud of it, but she could see now that she was still letting fear rule her. She might as well be back in that mine shaft, trapped in a grave of fear and darkness. That was no way to live. She squared her shoulders, steeled her spine and tapped down the concrete walkway, splashing in his direction.

“Hawk, what brings you here?” She was pleased with how normal she sounded, not at all like a woman who had been battling regrets or another lost chance at love. She hiked her chin higher, digging deep for every scrap of courage. Facing him was like seeing the littered remains of another lost future, more impossible dreams. She was stronger than loss, tougher than sorrow.

“I came to say goodbye to Comanche.” No hint of emotion on his face. No warmth in his words. No welcoming smile softening his granite face.

“Comanche?” Her footstep faltered, her knees went weaker. She froze in place on the walkway, halfway between Hawk and the barn. The wind swirled rain and stirred the grass near her feet and the trees lining the walkway moaned with the wind.

He hadn't come to see her at all, she realized. Disappointment turned to torture. She wanted to dart straight for the office door. After all, work was waiting. But she would not use an excuse to avoid him or anything, not any longer. She fisted her hands, determined
to see this through the right way. “I hope you two had a good chat.”

“He seemed glad to see me. I'm short three peppermints.” Hawk did her the courtesy of not smiling—of not reminding her of the dimples she loved and the tiny crinkles that dug handsomely into the corners of his eyes.

Whatever she did, she refused to acknowledge the memories trying to flood her brain. She would not remember him offering her his heart. She would not remember riding horses with him, or standing in front of a Christmas tree's glow or how her hand fit perfectly within his. The one thing she could not do—that she could never do—was remember the bliss of his kiss, the gentleness, the sweetness. Or her strength would falter. He looked all warrior, not like a man who had come to hope for a second chance at love.

“Seems I'll be shipping out earlier than expected.” He sounded impersonal, as if they had never been more than passing acquaintances. As if the last few weeks hadn't happened and she hadn't obliterated his feelings.

“But you were on leave.”

“I'm probably going to cut it short.”

“Probably?” Realization dawned across her face. “Oh, you've decided to head out.”

“I haven't made it official yet, but that's my plan.” He stopped, unable to bridge the rest of the distance between them. Raindrops danced on the concrete he could not make himself cross. “I'm just tying up loose ends. Saying goodbye to friends.”

“I hope you have a good tour.” The wind blew a
shock of hair into her face and she brushed it back. “Just come back safe and sound.”

“I'll do my best.” Being here hurt him something fierce, but he had come to say something, and he wouldn't leave until the job was done. “How's the truck running?”

“As good as when it was brand-new.”

“I'm glad. An afternoon's job well worth it.” Seeing her forlorn and hurting was like a bullet to his chest. He didn't want to make this harder for her. If he put in his paperwork, then he had to head off to Afghanistan knowing there were no second chances. No maybes. That he wasn't destroying a remote chance with her because of it. He wanted more for his life, and he was not afraid to fight for it.

“Thank you for all you have done for me. I can't begin to tell you.” She hesitated.

For a moment he thought he saw something change on her face, the quietest wish, the deepest longing for him. But then it was gone, and he couldn't be sure. Then he wasn't sure at all.

He was standing like an idiot in the rain, praying for a sign—any sign, the smallest sign—that he hadn't been wrong. That he hadn't mistaken friendship and gratitude for something grander. Everything within him wanted to ask her if there was a way they could make this work, if he had a chance of capturing her heart. But he could not do it yet. He could not risk frightening her away a second time. He had to tread carefully.

“It was nothing.” He shrugged off her thanks for the few odds and ends he'd done. “A few nails here, an adjustment there, a new part to install. It was my pleasure.”

“I wasn't talking about things. You helped
me.”
She laid a hand over her heart. “I will never forget what you gave me.”

At her words, everything went still. Even the rain seemed to stop falling. “What did I do?”

“You reminded me that there are precious gifts in this life and they are worth the cost.”

For a moment—just a split second—he thought he saw a question in her beautiful brown eyes. A silent plea that settled in his soul. Hope resonated throughout his entire being. “How did I do that, sunshine?”

“I don't know. It's as if I came back to life the moment you first took my hand.” She took a step closer. “I'm sorry for what I said. I hurt you, and I regret that more than you know. Please forgive me.”

“Done. Don't worry about it. It's already forgotten.” The shadows had slipped away from him, along with the tension of pain on his face. He stood straight and tall, invincible and every last bit of her only dream.

If he was anything less of a man, then she wouldn't be hurting like this. She wouldn't be falling apart over having lost him. She wouldn't be prepared to risk her heart again. But how did she tell him? She didn't have the words. All she had was emotion carrying her toward him. “I never wanted to see you again. I wanted to mean it, but you made me love again.”

“I
made
you?”

“I couldn't stop myself.” She fought to hold back her feelings. She told herself to be sensible. She couldn't afford to love him. He would go off on mission after
mission, risking life and limb and her heart. She'd done it once and lost. Losing like that again would be too much. She knew the cost. She knew how much it would hurt. “I didn't want to love anyone again. I couldn't help loving you.”

“You don't know how good that is to hear.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if giving thanks. When he opened them, she could read his devotion. “The moment I looked down into that mine and saw your precious face, I was a goner. I love you, September, with all I am and all I will ever be. I was miserable back home facing the dreams I'd lost.”

“What dreams?”

“The ones with you at my side every step of the way. Starting family traditions, singing around the piano, family get-togethers and our wedding.” He cleared his throat, as if overcome by emotion. “I stood up for my best man. I was happy for him. Don't get me wrong. I want him and Lexie to live happily ever after. But I want one of those, too. I want forever with you, September.”

Forever. Panic lashed at her. If she wanted to start believing in fairy tales again and in the kind of love that remained true and everlasting, then she shouldn't fall in love with a Ranger. But her heart refused to listen.

“I need to know if you want that, too.” Hawk's plea warmed the rain and chased the sting from the wind. “If there's any possibility, any at all. I have to know.”

She was breaking apart, the reasons why she couldn't love Hawk crumbling into dust. She had no shields left, no safeguards, no way to stop loving him. Love was a
risk, for anyone, anytime. She knew the cost of loving a soldier. The endless worry. The sacrifice. The hardship. But was Hawk worth it?

The answer stood in front of her, a man of noble strength she could not live without. One word filled her mind, without doubt, without condition. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Uncertainty turned to joy. His eyes twinkled, his grin flashed, dimples dug deep as instead of hugging her, which she expected, or doing something like punching his fist into the air, he went down on one knee. “Then I have another question for you. It's one I've been rehearsing most of the night, on the flight and during the drive here. September, will you marry me?”

“Marry you?” She went weak. The blood drained from her face. Her legs turned to rubber.

He rose, taking her into his arms, offering her the security of his chest and the shelter of his arms. His lips brushed her temple in light, tender kisses. Each one a silent promise, a promise no words could do justice to.

“I love you so much, Hawk.” It was terrifying to think of opening her heart fully again, but a smart woman learned from the lessons in her life. “Yes. I would love to be your wife. On one condition.”

“What? Name it.”

“That we don't waste a moment of the time we have together.” She adored Hawk. The power of her feelings terrified her, but she was certain of her choice. “No long engagements. No big wedding to plan. No putting off what we want to do.”

“I like the sound of that.” He pulled a ring from his
pocket and cradled her left hand in his. The platinum band glided over her finger. The square-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds glowed. “Maybe we can start planning on our next date.”

“Date?” She felt full to the brim and overflowing with love and hope. She couldn't think what he was talking about. “You just said you were being deployed—”

“I'm dropping out of the Rangers for you.”

“No, Hawk. I'm not asking you to give up the job you love.”

“I love you more, sunshine.” He brushed the damp hair away from her face, his touch affectionate and comforting. “You have been hurt enough. I don't want to put you through that again. I talked to my commanding officer and since you've agreed to marry me, I'm going to stay. I will be helping with training right here at Fort Lewis.”

“And that would make you happy?”

“Happier than I can imagine. That's what I want to do for you, September. To live for you. I promise you this. I will do my best for you every day of my life. You are my light.”

“And you are mine.” Never had she felt so blessed. She had received the best Christmas gift—one of true, everlasting love. She was a girl who could believe in dreams again, because she was holding one in her arms. Her amazing husband-to-be drew her tightly against him and covered her mouth with his. Their kiss was triumphant. As if heaven thought so, too, the wind gusted and the rain turned to snow.