Homefront Holiday

by Jillian Hart

  Grateful, huh? He never would have guessed it from the look on her face and the shadows in her eyes. Then again, Sarah Alpert had proven to him that he never had really known her. So it ought to come as no surprise not to be able to guess what was going on with her now. “Ali, you and me are hitting the pizza joint on Sunday. Deal?”

  “Deal!” Ali’s grin was back. “Pepperoni is my favorite.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” Holding on to his emotions, Mike ruffled the boy’s dark hair and winked. “Come tomorrow, you won’t forget about me and leave church without me, right?”

  “Nope. I cross my heart.” Ali made a big cross with his free hand.

  The lump in Mike’s throat felt the size of a boulder and he turned away before it could get any bigger. He strode off to his truck, calling his goodbye to the boy over his shoulder.

  Driving away from that little kid was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. And Sarah, oh, Sarah. He was hurting more than he could measure and a whole lot more than he would ever admit. He climbed in behind the wheel and backed the truck out into the street.

  Ali was waving wildly. Man, it had been great to see the little kid. Mike put the truck in gear and put his heart on neutral. There was Sarah with her furry cat cradled in her arms, looking sadder than he’d ever seen her.

  Too bad he was past feeling. He would do what he always did so well—brokenhearted or not—he would carry on. He concentrated on the road until the red and blue blink of the lights had faded from his rearview.

  “Sarah? Know what?”

  “What?” Laughing, she climbed from her knees and pulled back his covers.

  “Dr. Mike’s gonna teach me basketball.”

  “Yes, I heard that somewhere before.”

  “Oh, from me!” Laughing, Ali dove onto his bed and snuggled in, warm in his flannel jammies.

  “Yes, from you, silly.” Her heart swelled. She loved being a foster mom. She prayed that the adoption would work out. She smoothed the covers and tucked the sheet into place. “There. All snug?”

  “Yeah.” Ali pulled his Texas bear onto the pillow next to him.

  Dr. Mike. Would praises for the man ever end? Probably not. Sarah brushed Ali’s dark bangs from his eyes. The twice-weekly phone calls had hardly fazed her, but now that Mike was back in town—She squeezed her eyes briefly shut. Although it might be hard for her, Mike was important to her boy. She would simply have to deal with it. Somehow.

  She turned off the little bedside lamp. She prayed that no nightmares would haunt him tonight. “Sleep well, little one.”

  “I’m too happy to sleep.”

  “Then you just lie quietly and think about all the good things that happened today.” That usually did the trick. Sarah followed the fall of light to the shadowed hallway.

  “There were sure a lot.” Ali sighed, sounding content. In the dark shadows of his cozy room, she saw him give his bear an extra squeeze.

  Sweet boy.

  “You’re gonna stay close, right, Sarah?”

  “Right. I’ll be just out in the living room. Very close.”

  “Good.”

  She waited until his breathing slowed before she eased down the hall and into the light of the living room. Clean laundry tumbled out of the basket she had left on one of the couches. A stack of papers were on the coffee table, awaiting gold stars and smiley faces. She had so much to do, and where were her thoughts?

  On Mike. His eyes had looked almost haunted. He had felt so emotionally remote—more than usual. Something had changed him. Something happened in the desert. Her stomach twisted up so tight she could barely breathe. She sank onto the couch cushion. He might not have a drop of affection left for her, but she could not pretend.

  She cared. She would always care about Mike. He had been more than her fiancé. More than the man she wanted to build her dreams with. He had been her best friend. Her confidant. Her soul mate. She could not pretend that seeing him tonight hadn’t shattered her.

  Love was a powerful blessing. She pulled two of Ali’s tube socks from the basket and rolled them neatly. She had fallen in love so easily with Mike at first sight. He had been playing Frisbee on the tree-shaded common between their college dormitories with his buddies. The dappled sunlight had found him like grace as he leaped into the air, all powerful man and determination. He snatched the blue disc out of the air and he may as well have been grabbing hold of her heart.

  With the breeze in his dark blond hair and laughter in his hazel eyes, she had been rendered speechless. Her library books had slipped out of her hand. He had come to help her and the moment he smiled at her, the world felt right.

  Nothing had been right without him. She had to admit that. It was why she had decided to become a foster mom. First with Carlos, who had gone back to his biological mother five months before Ali had come into her life. Maybe part of her decision to foster had been a deep need to fill the emptiness that Mike had left. It was as if her soul knew that no matter how happy her future may be, something would always be missing. Mike would be missing. She would never be completely whole without him.

  It was time to face that. She pulled a T-shirt from the basket—an olive-green army shirt that Mike had given Ali—and folded it carefully. Seeing the past and feeling the broken pieces of her dreams with him was not good for her. He had chosen the army over her. He had wanted to be everyone else’s hero but hers. That wound would never stop hurting.

  After all this time, her feelings for him were just as strong, if a bit different. She pulled a towel from the laundry and gave it a shake. Clarence wandered in from the kitchen and gave her a rusty purr.

  Her life had gone one way. Mike’s had gone another. It wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what she had meant when she had asked him not to extend his tour of duty. She would pray on it tonight and she would trust that the Lord would show her the way.

  He hefted the last box from the back of his truck onto his shoulder and hoofed it up the walk. The post was a family neighborhood. The windows up and down the street were squares of light against the pressing darkness, and the colorful glow of Christmas lights blazed joyfully. Only his windows were dark. He was the only house without a single Christmas decoration.

  He kept his heart cool and his thoughts on the task at hand. If he wasn’t so good at self-control, he would be thinking about Ali right now and remembering the fun they had putting up those strings of red and blue lights. If he wasn’t a man who prided himself on his unyielding self-discipline, he might be remembering how sad Sarah had looked when he drove away.

  He shouldered the door open and stacked the box on top of the others. There. The stack was neat and tidy and relatively out of the way. He gave the door a slight boot, sending it gently closed. The faint light from the kitchen fell through the pass-through into the entry hall, casting just enough to see the empty rooms.

  His furniture would come first thing Monday morning. For now, he was content enough just to have a real roof over his head and a place to call his own. After sharing a tent with half a dozen other doctors, this modest little home seemed a luxury.

  The adoption papers he had carefully filled out were on the counter. He didn’t look at them as he picked them up and ripped them carefully in half. Just like that, his hopes were gone.

  Alone, he crossed to the refrigerator, refusing to listen to the hollow sound of his boots echoing in the empty house. There was no one for him to call. Most of his buddies were either in the Mid East or spending the first night home with their families.

  He didn’t mind so much. He’d gotten used to being alone. He yanked open the door and hauled out a can of flavored iced tea. He popped the top and took a long slow slurp. Another luxury. It didn’t seem to hit the spot, though. Maybe because this last tour had put a hole in his soul. Staying connected to Ali had helped mask that some, but now—

  Mike shook his head and set the can on the counter. He walked away into the darkness. Sarah was going to adopt him. How cou
ld he have guessed that? He thought she was the perfect foster mother—in spite of all their differences he had to be honest about that—but adopt him? Why? She had been set on having her own children, and soon. Wasn’t that the reason she had set down her ultimatum? Why hadn’t she found someone else to walk down the aisle with?

  The memory of her shadowed eyes cut him in two. She had avoided looking directly at him. She had talked to him as little as possible. She didn’t seem to care how ruthlessly she had hurt him.

  He unrolled his sleeping bag with a hard shake. Yes, that was his breath huffing in the silence. He pressed his hand to his forehead and took a few slow mouthfuls of air. What was he doing? Blaming Sarah wasn’t going to change a thing. He didn’t really think it was her fault to begin with.

  She hadn’t loved him enough, but he didn’t blame her for that. Even through his bitterness, he could clearly see she always had the best of intentions. She was pure sweetness with her chocolate cupcakes for dessert and her living-room shelves stuffed with children’s books. She didn’t live in his world. She didn’t understand what he was fighting for day in and day out. That wasn’t her fault.

  No, he was angry at himself because he still cared for her. That’s what this anger was. It was distracting him from a whole lot of hurt. His anger was spent.

  In the silence of the comfortable bedroom in the pleasant neighborhood on this safe army post, the silence threatened to suffocate him. He could still hear the distant pop of artillery, and beep of monitors from ICU. Exhaustion clung to him. He sank to his knees, alone and lost.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Four

  Church may have brought her peace and refreshed her spirit, but it hadn’t given her an easy answer. Sarah stopped her SUV outside the post’s security entrance and gathered her papers from the front seat. She lowered her window and smiled to the strapping young soldier who approached her.

  Once, she had known nearly everyone who had stood guard because she had visited Mike on post so frequently. Now a stranger in uniform squinted at her and the interior of her vehicle. So much had changed.

  “Good afternoon.” She handed the guard her papers and pass, squinting in the low sunlight. “I’m visiting Dr. Mike Montgomery.”

  “You’re on the list. One moment.” After a curt nod, the soldier marched to the booth and made a call. A pair of soldiers, one with a German shepherd and another with a mirror, walked the length of her vehicle. It was good they took such precautions in these uncertain times. Sarah’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, thinking of all the men and women who sacrificed for this country.

  She understood how much that sacrifice meant. It was more than service to one’s country. It meant forsaking time with family and friends, with hobbies and pastimes, and even one’s personal dreams to make others safe. She had always known that, but ever since she had met Ali, what soldiers did for their country and the world had taken on a whole new perspective.

  “Good day, ma’am.” The soldier waved her through, opening the checkpoint gate.

  She thanked him, but she was thinking of Mike. She was thinking of all the good Mike had done and continued to do. She never should have forced him to choose between her and the army. She should have been more understanding when he wanted to go back.

  Her cell rang. She grabbed the phone from the outside pocket of her shoulder bag and hit the speaker button. “Hello?”

  “Sarah?” Mike’s rich voice filled the passenger compartment.

  Why did her heart sigh at the sound?

  “Hi, Mike. I’m on my way.” She prayed her voice was as calm as she wanted it to be. “I’m running a few minutes late. I’m sorry about that.”

  “No prob. Ali and I are shooting hoops. If you turn at the second left, you should—”

  “I see you.” Since she traveled at the slow speed limit, she was able to spot the towering basketball hoops and the busy court. She flipped closed her phone. Her gaze went straight to the tall, square-shouldered figure standing beside a little dark-haired boy dribbling a ball.

  Every roll of the tires brought her closer to the man, and as his features came more into focus, so did the stirring in her soul. A stirring she could not deny.

  “Sarah!” Ali raced up to her as she hiked around to the sidewalk. “I made ten whole baskets and I winned.”

  “That’s because you are the best ballplayer I know.” Seeing him made her heart warm, and she loved how bright he looked from hanging with Mike. But it was the man striding toward her, with the ball under one arm and the breeze ruffling his short hair that made her pulse catch.

  Her foot hit the ground too soon, and the sudden jarring ricocheted up her leg. How could he still have that effect on her? She brushed her hair out of her eyes, but that only made her see him more clearly.

  He had changed. Gone was his quick and easy smile, the one that made dimples bracket his mouth and his hazel eyes twinkle with mischief. It wasn’t only because of their breakup. She knew there was more. It was as if something had taken a big bite out of his soul. Shadows haunted his eyes, shadows that faded when he looked at Ali.

  “He’s quite a ballplayer.” Mike winked. “Ali, what do you say we have another rematch? I need to try to win next time. I have a reputation to protect.”

  Ali laughed, pure sunshine. “Not now, right? ’Cuz we still gotta do the promised thing.”

  “What promised thing?” She glanced at her watch. “I thought you boys would be done by five.”

  “Apparently not.” Mike tossed the ball to Ali, who caught it easily. The man was looking everywhere but at her. “The kid knows how to work me.”

  “The best ones do.” Her words sounded strained. Her stomach was clamping tight. She laid a hand on Ali’s shoulder. She was definitely uncomfortable. The faster she could put some distance between her and Mike, the better. “Toss the ball back. It’s time for us to go, sunshine.”

  “No, it’s not.” Ali, nothing if not persistent, gave her his best puppy-dog look.

  How was she going to say no to that?

  “I meant to call,” Mike explained. “Ali and I got to talking and it seems like I promised that we would do a lot of things when I got back. And so that means I owe the kid. He seems to think I meant we would do all these things the minute I got back.” Mike rubbed the back of his neck, the way he did when he was either nervous or contemplating a tricky problem.

  She hated to think that she was a problem to him. She took a step back. “Hey, don’t let me stand in your way. Give me a call when you need me to come pick him up.”

  “No, I’ll drop him off.” There was a hint of strain in his words.

  “Maybe that would be better.” She let the crisp wind blow through her, and she felt it clear to her bones. Being near Mike was never going to get easier, she realized. She loved him, she had a mountain of regrets, and she wanted what she could not have. There was nothing to do but to walk away. “Fine. Just give me a call.”

  “Wait!” Ali dashed after her, the ball rolled out of his arms and he grabbed her by the hand. He dug in his heels, trying to stop her. “Don’t go, Sarah. It’s gettin’ dark.”

  “It’s all right.” She knelt to give him a hug. “You don’t have to worry. You’re not going to lose me, okay?”

  “’Kay.” Ali gulped.

  “What’s all this about?” Mike strode closer, hands on his hips, looking ready to protect and defend. He was definitely one of the good guys.

  She was definitely still in love with him. She would have to deal with that. She rose, set her chin and faced him. The moment her eyes met his steely gaze, a sharp pain razored through her midsection. Longing, she realized, the wish for his love.

  “Ali gets a little nervous in the dark. You didn’t notice it when you were over stringing the lights, because he was home. It’s to be expected.” She paused, waiting for him to understand.

  He nodded once, and sadness pinched in his eyes. Sympathy for Ali changed him. His
iron defenses melted and there was the man she adored. Big hearted and concerned for everyone.

  Ali took Sarah by the hand, and then grabbed one of Mike’s. “Sarah can come, too. She can watch. I’m gonna skate good.”

  She watched Mike’s throat work, and emotions played across his rugged face. “Maybe another night,” she offered.

  “No.” Mike’s answer was abrupt. “That’s not good for me. I start back tomorrow.”

  “Surely you have leave coming.”

  “I had it. Didn’t want to take it.”

  “But why not?”

  He gave her a cool look. He had closed up.

  “Fine, it’s not my business. I didn’t mean to pry.” She blushed, helpless, realizing what she had done. “I’m concerned about you, Mike.”

  “That’s not your right, Sarah. You gave that up.”

  “I know.” She hated the pain that sounded thick in his voice. She knew Mike. He hid most real emotion, and so this hint of it was a sign of much greater pain.

  She took a step back. Was it possible that he felt this way, too? That he was full of regret for how he handled things between them. That he was sorry they had broken up?

  “Come with us, Sarah.” Mike’s voice dipped low. “I want to talk to you about this.”

  About Ali. Yes, she knew he was concerned about him. She had a few things to say, too. “Then I’ll tag along with you boys.”

  “Goody.” Ali’s relief was visible. He clung to her, his need palpable.

  He made it easy to love him. She let him cling to her, comforted that she was doing at least this one thing right. If only she could say the same with Mike.

  He scooped the ball from the grass and loped after them. It felt familiar to have him nearby, to hear the beat of his gait and the rustle of his movements as he whisked open the backseat door and held it. Always a gentleman.

  “Thanks.” Longing filled her. She fought against it as she helped Ali with his car seat buckles. Memories rushed into her mind’s eye—of how he always held the door for her, of how safe it felt to be held in his arms and how easily they used to laugh together over everything and nothing.