by Jillian Hart
Sorrow hit him like a freight train, sending him spinning. He shut out the image of Tim’s flag-draped coffin and of the other coffins over the course of his service. He pushed away those feelings, watching as the windshield blurred. Rain smeared on the glass, falling in giant sloppy drops. He flipped on the wipers and caught Giselle disappearing through the doors, safely in her dorm for the night.
If you cared about someone, it hurt more when you lost them. He put the truck in gear and circled around, headlights cutting a swatch of light through the dark. He’d come close to caring about Lexie today. She’d gotten too close to the vulnerable part of him. He wasn’t used to it. He didn’t like it. She made him way too uncomfortable.
That gave him something to think about on the drive back to the hotel.
Thunder resounded through the sky above and echoed in the church vestibule as Lexie balanced on her crutches. Sweet strains from the choir’s opening hymn rose through the open doors to the sanctuary. Hail broke out, dropping like nails on the cathedral roof above.
“We made it just in time.” Amber slipped out of her coat, ignoring the drips as she reached for Lexie’s crutches. “I’ll hold these if you want to take off your coat.”
“I owe you big-time for this.” Lexie’s ankle had swollen so badly, she’d almost considered missing the service. “I’m thankful you volunteered to drive me.”
“I’m just glad I could help you for a change. You’ve done so much for me.” Amber took both coats and hung them up.
The sound of hail reverberated through the sanctuary as they made their way in. The aisles brimmed with students, faculty and families from town. Lexie tried to keep focused on not making too much noise with her crutches, but her thoughts drifted back to last night and Pierce’s touch.
It was not the sweetest moment of her life, really, she told herself. Maybe if she said that enough, she’d believe it. It was worth a try, right? She hopped into a back row, slid her crutches under the pew and straightened for the rest of the hymn. Her ankle was throbbing, but that could work for her. It would keep her mind off Pierce.
Amber opened a hymnal and leaned close, sharing it. Lexie took her side of the book and held it open. Her eyes were supposed to focus on the page and make sense of the notes and the words, but did they?
No. For some inexplicable reason her gaze strayed up the end aisle to where a brown-haired man with impressive shoulders and perfect posture stood attentively singing. A shock of tender emotion zinged through her, both surprising and unsettling because she didn’t want to feel this way.
Don’t look at him, Lexie, she thought, ordering her gaze to the hymnal, but it was too late. She was singing the last notes of the hymn along with everyone else and there was nowhere to look but forward.
Why was he directly in her line of sight? As the minister began to speak and the inevitable rustling filled the sanctuary, she couldn’t help noticing that Pierce wore a black suit. The well-cut jacket complimented his muscular physique. Her pulse gave a little leap, remembering last night, of what he had told her and how close they had been. That closeness scared her.
“Let us pray.”
She bowed her head, welcoming the peace of prayer to her confused heart.
He’d caught sight of Lexie during the service, but with his sister in tow, he had been unable to make a beeline through the crowd after her. By the time he and Giselle had made it outside it was snowing again and she was nowhere in sight.
Right now the stack of blackberry pancakes sat like a lump in his gut. The brunch had been tasty, but the topic of conversation had not been. Giselle had done what he expected, making an all-out attempt to talk him out of returning to duty, once and for all. She’d talked about losing Tim, and how much she missed him, and how thinking about Tim made it feel as if she were dying inside. She didn’t want to go through another loss like that. She didn’t want Pierce to come home in a coffin.
He got that. He did. But it hadn’t changed his mind and now Giselle was angry with him for not seeing reason. He’d done all he could, he told her the truth from his heart. It had made no difference.
He parked in a guest spot in front of the dorm. He didn’t want to break the unhappy silence that had settled between them. If he did, would it make things worse? Frustrated, he didn’t know how to fix the situation. He feared that the one person he could talk to, who might understand, was someone he really ought to avoid.
“I’m too mad at you to talk to you now,” Giselle informed him as she shoved open the door. She might feel mad, but she looked sad. Tears stood in her eyes, hovering, as she slid to the ground. “Have a safe flight home.”
“You take care now.” He stopped short of saying anything more. His chest was knotted up good and tight. He didn’t trust his voice as she shut the door, ducked her head and hurried through the snowfall. The temperature had turned cold again while they had been in the restaurant.
His cell phone beeped. A text message? He dug it out, figuring Hawk was probably keeping him updated on the ski conditions, the lucky dog.
“How did it go?” Lexie had written.
He stared at her name, and the knot in his chest yanked tighter. He began typing. “Good. Considering.”
“Uh oh. How’s Giselle?” her message asked.
“Mad @ me.” And then some, but maybe it was smarter to keep his feelings out of it right along with Giselle’s disappointment. No doubt Lexie would find out about it soon, whenever his sister chose to share it with her.
At least Lexie understands, an unwanted thought reminded him. It should have comforted him, but it only made his trapped, unnamed feelings begin to ache.
“Give her time,” Lexie answered.
He stared at her words on his little screen, bright in the dark, stormy day. He was a man trained to look at a situation and make the right decision. The back of his neck tingled, like it did on the job when he’d missed something vital and was about to make a mistake. His thumbs were on the keys, ready to ask if she could meet him to talk.
Is that what he really wanted? To talk with her? He set the phone on the seat, staring at her words on the screen. Lexie’s advice was meant as nothing more than a friend. They both knew it. But something had changed for him. Something he wanted to push aside and ignore, but that was never smart. That was no good solution to a problem.
He had to examine the tangled knot in his chest, hurting like a set of bruised ribs. What did he really want?
To see her again. The answer came quickly and quietly, as if spooling up from his soul. He could deal with his family. He would probably go back to active duty with their disapproval, but it had happened before.
No, he had a harder time accepting what was truly eating at him. Not only did he want to see Lexie, he needed to see her. He longed to see her sweet smile and her lovely face and the peace he’d felt with her. He missed her company and companionship and the gentle way she made him smile.
A headache began to throb, and he rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand. You aren’t looking for anything serious, buddy. That was his number-one rule. Why did it feel as if he were in real jeopardy of breaking it? He wasn’t looking for disaster. And while Lexie was a friend now, he could look down the path and see how his feelings could deepen for her. That was something he couldn’t risk. He could only get hurt. That was a fact.
Maybe it was time to do the right thing for them both. He grabbed up his phone and typed a return message. “I’m heading out tomorrow.”
It seemed an eternity before her answering message popped onto his screen. Her words were friendly. “To Wyoming?”
“Yep.” He hit Send. He could have said more, but he didn’t. He glanced through the streaks on the windshield to the warm lights of the cozy dorm. Snow landed on the glass, gathering until the wipers swiped them away.
His phone beeped. He looked down at her message. “Have a safe trip.”
The ache in his chest doubled. He winced, knowing what he was walking away
from. “Thanks. Take care of that ankle.”
He hit Send and waited before his phone beeped.
“Goodbye.” Her one word said it all.
She wasn’t feeling this way. He would never be a contender for a girl like Lexie, if he was looking to be. The ache in his chest became a pain that took his breath away.
He pocketed his phone, put the truck in gear and headed away from the dorm. As he drove through the campus and onto the main street through town, he banished all thoughts of her. But the feeling, and the hurt, remained.
Lexie heard the knock on her partly open door and looked up from her homework. The desk, wedged in the corner by the window, gave her a good view of the snowy trees and courtyard, but she had to twist around in her chair to see who had dropped by. “Come in.”
The door swung open wider, revealing Giselle in a pair of navy blue MCU sweats. Tears stood in her eyes. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you, I have more than a minute.” She closed her book and saved her computer file. “I thought you might drop by. I hear your brother is leaving for Wyoming.”
Giselle nodded, lingering in the doorway. She must have been trying to study, too, because her dark hair was tied back, out of the way.
Lexie gathered up her crutches. “If you want something to drink, I’ve got soda in the fridge.”
“No, thanks.” The girl bit her lip, as if she were thinking hard, or as if what she had to say was difficult.
“Come sit down.” She eased into her overstuffed reading chair and leaned her crutches against the bookcase. The pipes clanked as the radiator came to life, spewing out warm air. Lexie waited as the girl closed the door.
You’re not thinking about Pierce, she reminded herself. She had to be disciplined about this. At least, until she was clear about why she was feeling this way.
“I was hoping to ask you for a favor. A really big one.” Giselle slumped onto the couch. “It’s about my brother.”
“What about Pierce?” Her thoughts shot to his text messages and their conversation in the rain. All it took was a single thought and a spear of panic burrowed into her heart. She had gotten too close to him. If that wasn’t impending doom, then she didn’t know what was.
“He’s going to go back in for another four years,” Giselle explained, her worry for her brother evident in her voice, on her face, in her posture. “I don’t want anything to happen to him. He can’t see it. He thinks he’s invincible or something.”
“I’m sure he knows the cost of his sacrifice.” She remembered the stalwart man standing as if alone in the rain. “You never told me about Tim.”
“I can’t stand to.” Giselle bowed her head, the picture of pure grief.
“A brother’s life is a lot to give for this country.” She saw again the raw sadness that had etched into Pierce’s face. She ached for him, too. “It’s understandable you don’t want to give another.”
“I’m just so mad at him. He’s macho, that’s what this is. And headstrong. He just wants his way.” Giselle sounded angry, but as she reached for a tissue from the box on the end table, her tears meant something else.
“You don’t believe those things about your brother for a second.” She thought of the responsibility and discipline it took to do his job, and of the irresistible gentleness he’d shown her—an impressive combination. Her chin tingled with the memory of his touch. “Pierce is a rare, truly trustworthy man.”
“He is.” Giselle sniffled into the tissue, fighting her tears. “I think he should go to college, get his degree and get a nice, safe job. What’s wrong with that? Lots of people do it every day.”
“True.” Lexie remembered what he had said about his commitment to duty. Something stronger than admiration sparked to life within her. Something she simply could not let herself look at. “He’s made his choice. He’s not the one conflicted over this. You are, Giselle.”
“I th-thought you would help me. You don’t understand.” Her words vibrated with heartbreak.
“You can’t save him, Giselle. Only God can do that.” She couldn’t explain why she was hurting, too. Why Giselle’s fears felt real to her, too. Maybe because she already cared too much for the man. “I’m going to help you, Giselle. Okay?”
“Okay.” She sniffled harder.
Lexie handed her another tissue. “You’ve kept Tim’s grief bottled up for too long.”
“But I don’t want to talk about him. I just c-can’t.” Giselle hung her head, so lost.
At least they had gotten to the heart of the problem. Lexie reached for Giselle’s hand, offering sisterly comfort. Later she would call the student counseling center hotline for the particulars on their weekly grief support group. For now, she would offer what friendship she could, sitting with Giselle while she cried.
It had been a bad night, and the morning wasn’t going much better. Pierce tossed his rucksack on the floor of the truck. His morning flight to Wyoming was delayed, and he’d gotten only a few winks of sleep. Last night’s precipitation had iced dangerously to every surface and the rental truck didn’t come with an ice scraper. Not that any of this qualified as a hardship in his opinion, but he was on vacation and his heart was troubled over Tim, over his family and over Lexie.
He knocked the snow off his boots and hopped behind the wheel. The defroster blazed heat, and only the most stubborn ice remained. He had some time to kill before he had to be at the airport. Hawk was already headed off to their air base, and there wasn’t enough time to drive up to the ski resort.
He buckled in, debating what to do. Scratch that. He was debating over finding a way of avoiding what he ought to do. Lexie had been on his mind, the way she’d drawn him in, the way she smiled, the way he lit up when he was with her. He’d panicked yesterday. That was the plain truth. He wasn’t proud of it. A bad feeling had wedged into his gut. He didn’t like leaving things this way. He wanted a proper goodbye.
He put the truck in gear. The tires spun, caught, and he backed out of the parking spot. It wasn’t as if he was going to fall head over heels for her, he thought as he straightened the wheel. He had learned his lesson about falling for a civilian. So, did that mean he went straight to the airport and waited around for hours? Or did he make that detour?
He didn’t know what made him decide to nose the truck down the main road through town toward the university instead of away from it. It wasn’t rational. He was simply following his gut. It didn’t feel right to say goodbye to her in a text message. She meant more to him than that.
By the time he’d paid for parking and found a spot, the campus was quiet. Classes were in session, which meant Lexie was probably in one of those brick buildings, copiously taking notes. As he strolled along the main pathway to the quad, he could picture her at a desk, head bent over her keyboard, typing away with her fingers in a blur and her black hair falling over one shoulder.
He took shelter in the annex off the library, where a candy stand sold newspapers and hot drinks. After commandeering a bench, he punched in a text message. “Where R U?”
For all he knew, she had back-to-back classes all morning long, but he had to try. He hit Send. A pair of girls that reminded him of his sister emerged from the library and were debating over candy choices at the stand.
Giselle was wrong. He wasn’t meant to be here. He tried to picture putting on this life. It looked pleasant with a backpack slung over one shoulder, grabbing a hot cup of tea between classes, chatting on the way with a few buddies. Maybe grabbing lunch at the cafeteria a few doors down, talking about books and professors.
He couldn’t see it. It didn’t fit. Since he was a little boy, the black and gold Ranger tab had been his dream. He had always wanted to be a Ranger. For better or worse, it was who he was. Tim had understood that. It was why he carried on, for himself and for his brother’s memory. It was his calling.
God, he prayed, if You want me on another path, then I will be waiting with eyes peeled for You to show me the way. Otherwise, I
will remain committed.
His cell beeped. He thumbed the read button, pulse kicking.
“I’m @ the libe. Where R U?” she’d written.
“Outside the libe. Want lunch?” he sent, half worried that she would turn him down. He popped off the bench and took a stroll. It wasn’t nerves or anything, well, maybe a little. He was surprised how much he wanted to see her. Why wasn’t she texting back? Had he made a mistake?
Chapter Six
“Pierce?”
Her gentle voice surprised him. He looked up, happiness lighting him at the sight of her. Her hair was down, spilling over her shoulders like liquid ebony. She wore a blue ski cap and her winter coat, crutching in careful steps across the wet brickwork. He raced to meet her. “It’s got to be divine intervention. You don’t have a class?”
“Not until after lunch.” She paused to let him take her backpack. “Thanks. Seeing you was the last thing I expected. Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane?”
“They put me on a later flight. I have some serious time on my hands.” He slung her backpack over his shoulder. It was heavy, and kept by her side as they ambled down the breezeway. “I had nothing to do and the only other person I know in town, whom I’m not related to, is you.”
“I’m glad I won out by default. I’m not complaining.” She let him open the heavy glass door for her. Tables, mostly empty, were pleasantly spaced around the roomy dining area. They faced the ceiling-to-floor windows looking out at the crisply white campus grounds. “I’m happy to help you waste some time.”
“Excellent.” He nodded toward the tables. She was fully aware of a number of women’s heads turning as she led the way through the room and grabbed a table. Oh, it wasn’t her that was garnering all the attention, but the six-foot-one hunk at her side.
