by Jillian Hart
The buckle snapped into place, she backed up a step and longing rose up again. She was so close to Mike, she could see the gold flecks in his eyes and the texture of his day’s growth on his jaw. He opened the front passenger door for her, like he used to. Love filled her like a rising tide, sweeping away the hurt and the regret.
Maybe there was hope after all.
“Sarah! Look!” Ali called from the side of the rink. He clutched the rail with both hands, grinning ear to ear. “I’m good.”
“You’re fantastic.” Sarah laid her coat on the bench beside her, safely on the sidelines. Since it was supper time, the rink was quiet, which was perfect for a little boy learning to skate. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me, too!” Ali glanced over his shoulder at the wide expanse of glittering ice. “But I can’t skate as good as Dr. Mike.”
“Who can?” Speaking of which, where had the man gone? He had been right behind Ali the last time she looked.
A pair of skates dangled in front of her. She twisted around on the bench, already knowing it was Mike behind her. He towered over her, and the fall of light from the dome ceiling cast a glow over his head and shoulders. For a moment, he stood as if unguarded.
“No one said you could sit on the sidelines.” He lowered the skates into her waiting hands. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. I know you can skate.”
“Only because you taught me.” She smiled up at him. “I haven’t been on the ice since the last time I came here with you.”
“The New Year’s Eve fund-raiser for Children of the Day.” Mike gave a brief nod, warming to her, as if with the memory. “That was a good time.”
“It was.” A very good evening together.
She bent to yank off her suede boots, trying to forget those warm memories that were more than two years old. The Prairie Springs skating rink had hosted the charity’s yearly fund-raising event. Mike had just returned from a year’s duty overseas, and they had never been closer. He had a year left to serve, and she was planning their wedding. Finally. He was home to stay, having served his last deployment. Her dreams were within reach. She had waited for him since college and then, at thirty-three, she couldn’t wait to be his wife and the mother of his children.
They had skated the rink hand in hand, heart to heart, soul to soul. Life had been so good that evening, knowing she would never spend another day eaten up with fear that the phone or doorbell would ring, bringing word that Mike had been killed in action.
“Dr. Mike! Look!” Ali made sure his hero was watching as he took one hand off the rail and sailed what had to be three inches. His free hand grasped the rail again. “I did good.”
Mike’s chuckle was like music. “You did great, buddy.”
“Look! I gonna do it again.” Ali waited until he had Mike’s undivided attention.
She managed to keep the boy in sight as she slipped on the skates. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mike’s shoulder dip. He hesitated, frozen in place. Had he been about to help her? Had he thought better of it?
She felt his gaze on her as she drew her laces tight and tied them. Don’t think of all this could mean, she warned herself. That he had remembered her shoe size. That he wanted her to join him and Ali. That he had been almost ready to reach out to her.
No, reading too much into this could be disastrous. Her heart had been totally broken. She didn’t want to risk more heartache. She straightened, the rental skates heavy on her feet. His nearness made her shiver with hope. The warm brush of his hand at her nape was as familiar as her own breath.
“He’s quite an athlete.”
Her senses scrambled. Ali. Mike was talking about Ali. She set her chin and cleared her throat. Her mind was nothing but fuzz. “He’s a very active little boy. It’s a blessing, after all he’s been through.”
“I almost agree with you.”
“Almost?”
“I’m no religious man, but sometimes—” He shook his head. “Sometimes you want to believe in something. He’s waiting for us.”
Ali. Right. Sarah wobbled on the narrow skate blades. When she took her first step, she prayed she looked completely normal. Totally unaffected. But how could she be? With every step she took, Mike was right behind her. The pad of his gait was a welcome sound straight out of her memories. The power of his reassuring presence was like waltzing with her dreams.
“Dr. Mike! Sarah!” Ali skidded a few feet, holding on tight all the way. “You can skate, too, Sarah?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time. You may have to help me.”
“Hold on to me, Sarah.”
It helped to focus her attentions on her foster son, the little boy she loved so dearly. The fuzz cleared and the ache of longing stilled as she took Ali’s outstretched hand in her own. “Thanks, sweetie. Look how good you’re doing!”
“I know. Look.” Ali let go of the bar and for a second he was wobbling on his own. She made sure to keep him as steady as she could until he grabbed the bar, still upright. So pleased with himself. “Whew. That was a long time.”
“The longest.” A movement caught her attention. Mike gliding to Ali’s other side. He looked at home on skates, easily athletic, as he had always been.
“Let’s teach him together.” It was as if time had looped backward to that long-ago day when they had been happy and in love. The shadows had vanished from his eyes and the harsh lines from his face and he looked as free and as at peace as he had that day. “Are you ready for your first lesson, Ali?”
“Yes, sir!” He tipped his head back. Sarah gave thanks that the boy was healthy and relatively happy. He was a resilient little guy. Anyone watching him would not guess how hard the nights were for him or how deeply he grieved the family he had lost.
“Look. We’re way out on the ice.” He sounded so proud of himself.
It was actually a few feet, but to a little boy it was a long way. Sarah worked to keep her thin blades balanced. She hadn’t been on the ice in a long time and it showed. “I don’t know about you, Ali, but I’m starting to miss the wall.”
“I’m not!” Ali held tight, secure between them. “I wanna go fast. Can we, Dr. Mike?”
Mike chuckled. “You’re askin’ me because you figure of the two of us, I’ll be the one to say yes.”
“Ye-ah.” Ali dragged out the word, his eyes rolling upward as he thought. “But I still wanna go fast. Like him.”
A teenaged skater whizzed by.
“Ready?” Mike was saying to the boy. “Just scoot your right skate forward. C’mon, give it a try.”
Sarah dug in with her left skate, keeping her place in the ice as Ali hesitated. He gulped and stared down hard at his toes. She dug in with her tip, waiting for him to gather his pluck and take that first startling slide into the expanse of the ice. Whatever happened, she was going to hold him steady. She would make sure he didn’t fall. It felt good knowing the man on Ali’s other side felt the same way.
Mike didn’t have to say it—it was in his stance, protective and strong. It was in his steady patience as he waited for Ali to shift his weight on his skates. For a moment the boy wobbled and then his left skate went back as his right skate went forward.
She moved and Mike moved and together they kept him upright, flawlessly. Safe and secure, he was laughing. “I’m skating fast!”
“You sure are, buddy.” Mike’s rumbling chuckle was the dearest sound to her. Still.
Sarah tried to keep her eyes focused clearly on Ali as he scooted his left skate forward, in danger of each skate going a different way. But as she pushed off to keep up with him and used her toe pick to stop and hold him steady, she saw the faint image of her lost dreams so clearly. Maybe her lost hopes were not gone, after all.
“Right foot.” Mike’s amused instruction was punctuated with his low rumbling chuckles. “That’s it. You’re gettin’ it, buddy. Left foot. Right foot.”
“Good job, Ali.” Sarah cheered as they turned a shaky corner. The length
of the ice rink spread out before them, glossed with light and shimmering as if with hope. There were the remembrances of her dreams, images she could see once again. Of how she had once envisioned being with Mike, teaching their son to skate one day, just like this, side by side with a child between them. With love between them.
Did Mike feel this way, too?
“We can make it all the way to the wall down there, don’t you think, buddy?” Mike’s confidence was tempered by his affection for the boy. The man she loved so much looked transformed, as if he could see his buried hopes.
“Y-yeah.” Ali clearly tried to be as confident. “I’m a good skater.”
“Yes you are.” Her voice was thick and laced with emotion, but she didn’t bother to hide it. Adoring the boy, adoring the man, she held on tight. Patiently she skated one choppy glide at a time, her heart so full it hurt.
Chapter Five
For a while there, Mike had almost forgotten that the last year had passed. As they skated like the amateurs they were around the public rink, he had almost forgotten that the woman laughing with him was the same one who had devastated him. Now, as he took a bite of the pizza, he took a good look at the woman who had torn him apart.
She sat across from him, looking as pretty as ever, with the fall of light on her red hair and flawless complexion. She took a napkin from the dispenser on the table and gave Ali’s face a few swipes.
“Sarah!” The boy protested. “I like pepperoni juice.”
“But you’re wearing it.” She bit her soft bottom lip to keep from laughing. Love radiated from her. It was plain to see that the match was as good for her as for Ali. She was one lucky lady, getting to love and raise the boy.
He knew there was no place for him in their new family.
You promised me, Mike. He could hear the pain vibrating in her voice crisp and touching in his memory. You said this was your last tour. That you were getting out.
That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. In memory, too, he could still feel the conviction of his words and the weight of his decision. There are still threats to our country, and this is my duty, Sarah. I serve the men and women who put their lives on the line for our freedom.
But she hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t understood. He had always suspected that it was because she hadn’t wanted to. She wanted her way. He wanted everything with her. That is, until he saw the real Sarah Alpert. The woman who hadn’t loved him enough to wait. She hadn’t even bothered to come see him off. To say goodbye.
Pain cut through him. He winced and set down his half-eaten slice of pizza onto the plate in front of him. That was something he couldn’t deny or ignore. Bitterness spilled across his tongue, sour and relentless. She hadn’t cared about him, not down deep. It had nearly killed him to board that bird and leave her behind.
She obviously hadn’t felt the same way.
“Mike, are you all right?”
He blinked, bringing the room back into focus. He was in the present again with the agony of that tough day. Somehow he had to get his defenses up and his heart walled off or he would be vulnerable to that sweet concern on her face. The most beautiful face he had ever seen.
“Sure. You know how I feel about pizza.” It was an old joke between them.
She turned her attention to him, sitting there with her perfect posture. When their gazes met, his heart flat lined.
It was the wrong thing to say.
Seconds passed, and he didn’t know how to break the silence. If he knew what to say, then he could make light of how he always used to say that pizza was his favorite thing on earth, next to Sarah’s smile.
“I need more.” Ali picked up his plate and presented it. “Please.”
“More?” It was easier to joke. He shook his head. “Nope. No more for you, mister.”
“But I’m hungry.” Ali grinned, stifling a giggle. “And there’s lots left.”
“Sure, but it’s all for me.”
“No.” Ali giggled. “It’s for me and Sarah, too. You’re supposed to share, Dr. Mike. Sarah says so.”
“Well, if Sarah says.” He rolled his eyes, earning another laugh from his favorite buddy and grabbed the pie server. “What piece do you want?”
“The biggest!” Ali leaned against the table and studied the pizza tray. “Wait. The biggest one with the most pepperonis.”
“That would be this one.” He served it. “There you go. Sarah? How about you?”
“I’ll take that small one, if you don’t mind.” She scooted her plate toward him, and he kept his gaze down. Maybe if he could avoid looking at her, he could keep the memories down where they belonged and all the unwanted feelings with them.
The trouble was, as he slid the smallest piece onto her plate, she was still in his field of sight. The delicate line of her hands, the splash of her reflection in the window beside him and the dulcet lull of her voice as she spoke with Ali.
“Thanks, Mike.”
“Sure.” He took another piece for himself. Whatever happened, he could not start letting himself think of what might have been. What he had to focus on was why he was here. He had to let Ali go, and he needed Sarah’s help to do it.
“Mike?”
He blinked, realizing too late that she had asked him a question. “Sorry, I missed that.”
“I asked if you were settled in to your new place.”
“Getting there.” He took a sip of root beer. He was no longer hungry. He didn’t want to make small talk with Sarah. No, that’s not what he wanted at all.
“Dr. Mike?” Ali was working on that big piece of pizza and making good progress. “What are we gonna do now?”
“Now?” He put down his glass. “You think there’s more to do?”
“You said lots. Remember?” Ali bounced up onto his knees on the booth cushion. “You said football. You said I could come see you at work. You said about a Christmas tree. You said I would have a room, too.”
“You remember all that?”
“Yep. I remember really good.”
“I’ll say.” He shook his head, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “I promised to do all that with you?”
“No.” Ali pulled a pepperoni disc off his pizza slice. “You promised lots more.”
“You are in big trouble, Mike.”
“So I see.” He braced himself but nothing could prepare him for the impact of Sarah’s smile. It was as if she had reached inside and touched his soul.
Uncomfortable, he looked away, but nothing could diminish the feeling that the rift between them had changed.
“Dr. Mike.” Ali tromped through the front doors of the pizza parlor and onto the twilight sidewalk. “You’re comin’ for hot chocolate, right?”
Sarah swept past Mike, who held the door open for her, waiting for his answer. Tonight had been confusing. On one hand he had scarcely looked at her. He had been withdrawn. And on the other, there were moments that had felt like old times when they had laughed together and everything between them felt effortless.
What was Mike going to say to Ali? She stepped out into the cool night and drew her coat tight around her. Was their evening going to continue? “It’s early, Mike. You might as well.”
“No, I have things to get done.” The shadows seemed darker around him as he joined them. He seemed darker. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll have to pass on the cocoa.”
“How about with lots of marshmallows?”
“Nope, I just can’t.”
“Why, Mike?” Ali skipped to his hero and clung to his hand.
“I’ve got to get laundry done if I want clean clothes to wear to work tomorrow.” Mike didn’t look happy turning the boy down.
Of course not. Sarah padded after them on the sidewalk. The man and boy had an undeniable bond. Maybe this situation didn’t need to be so awkward. She caught sight of their reflection in the candy store’s window. With the man and little boy hand in hand and her a pace behind, they looked like a family to any passersby.
&nbs
p; A family. Her step faltered. Emotion gathered within her as she forced herself to keep up with the quick-walking duo. Isn’t that what she had been praying for so hard and for so long? It was as if her dreams were coming back to life.
“Guess this is where we part ways.” Mike halted between two vehicles parked side by side, her SUV and his truck. “It was great spending time with you, buddy. You be good tonight for Sarah, ya hear?”
Ali grinned.
“You’ve got that right.” She couldn’t help ruffling his hair, sweet baby.
He laughed, taking her hand and holding on tight. “Are you sure you don’t want cocoa, Dr. Mike? It’s real yummy.”
“I’m sure it is.” Mike’s sadness was obvious, even in the shadows, even in the night’s darkness. The flash of Christmas lights did not seem to touch him as he wandered between the vehicles.
He was waiting for her to unlock the passenger door, so she hit the remote. The locks popped.
Sure enough, Mike opened the door. “Up you go, kid.”
Ali’s delight was tangible as he was lifted into the air, turned upside down and then gently torpedoed into the backseat. His laughter was a cherished sound.
Maybe it was simply the golden glow from the overhead Christmas star adorning a lamppost, but joy filled her. She had to hope, no, she had to believe, that God had a plan for all of them.
“There. You buckled up safe?”
“Yes, sir!” Ali’s voice was muffled from inside the vehicle, but nothing could muffle his enthusiasm. “About that cocoa—”
Mike laughed, deep and tender and kind. Always a good man. Why hadn’t she seen that before? Even when he was wanting to put off their wedding one more time, she should have known. She should have trusted him. She should never have let him go.
“If you’re trying to wear me down about coming over tonight, it’s not gonna happen.” Amused, he grabbed the door, getting ready to close it. He hesitated, and no darkness or shadow could hide the affection on his face.
