by Jillian Hart
“I see that smirk. Maybe he’s a nice guy who would appreciate some good company for a Friday meal. How about that?” She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I think you should go. He was a hunk in high school, and a kind guy. I’m sure he still is.”
“Okay. I will.” Chessie smiled, but it was short-lived. The church was more crowded, the pews mostly full, so it was simple to spot the brawny-shouldered man hiking up the right-hand aisle.
“Hawk.” Happiness swept through September, a pure streak of joy that, like a sudden flash of sunlight after being in the dark, felt almost too intense to bear. She tried to dial it down, reining in her emotions as she patted the space beside her. “Is that you? I hardly recognize you.”
“It’s been awhile since I’ve put on a shirt and tie. The post’s chapel is more casual.” He slipped into the row and dropped next to her. “You are lovely.”
“It’s just a dress.” She flushed, unable to explain why his compliment affected her or why she was glad he thought she looked nice. “You remember my sister, of course.”
“Hi, Chessie.” He offered her his most charming smile, probably thinking that he would warm his sister’s icy stare.
He would be wrong. Before September could say more the organ stilled, and their minister appeared, friendly and wise as always.
“Good morning, friends,” he greeted the congregation warmly.
“You and I have to talk,” Chessie whispered in her ear, and gave Hawk a pointed look.
Poor Hawk. He had to have caught it, but he remained respectfully unaware as he turned toward the altar. She wanted to say something reassuring to him and let him know how glad she was to see him again, but the minister called out to stand and join hands.
When Hawk’s fingers caught hers and helped her to her feet, something happened. Life trickled into her wounded spirit like dawn after a bleak winter storm, like a promise of peace to come, of laughter and hope. He was doing this to her, drawing her out of the dark, helping her to feel.
Years ago, she and Hawk had been little more than acquaintances. Who would have guessed that the different roads they both walked would bring them here? It seemed like God’s doing. She had been certain all her prayers went unanswered, but standing at Hawk’s side in the sanctuary filled with light and reverence, she saw that God had been walking with her all along. She hadn’t been able to feel it, but that didn’t mean that God wasn’t there. He was showing her that Tim’s loss hadn’t taken her heart. She could feel it beating again.
Thankful, she bowed her head and listened to the minister’s voice lift in prayer.
“I’m glad to see that gutter is holding up.” Hawk paused on the front step to inspect the work he’d done. “Wouldn’t want you to get mad at me for shoddy workmanship.”
“You? Shoddy? Not a chance.”
She stood in the doorway, beautiful even in the T-shirt and faded jeans she had changed into. He’d thought her amazing in the simple blue dress she’d worn, but he preferred this side of her—wholesome girl-next-door sweetness.
“I have to apologize for my sister,” she went on to say. “She isn’t happy about our friendship the way I am.”
“I’m not out to break your heart.”
“Oh, I know.” She waved his concern away, as if she had no idea there was a deeper meaning to his comment. “She knows what I went through. She doesn’t want me to hurt like that again.”
“Neither do I.” He understood what Chessie meant. He had been there, too. Twice—as a kid growing up, and the first time he’d spotted September on that dark mountain. No way could he tell her that Chessie was right on target. The older sister had been able to see what the younger could not. As hard as he tried to hide his affection, it had to show. When he smiled at her, his defenses were down, his soul on display.
He stepped inside, toolbox in hand. The mistletoe hung overhead like a beacon flashing, Remember the Kisses. As if he could possibly forget. That had been a special moment for him, but what had it been for September? The way she blushed and hurried by him suggested she remembered, too, and she wasn’t eager for kiss number three.
He followed her into the kitchen. He’d been pretty devastated yesterday, up some of the night feeling too frustrated to sleep. But in church this morning her face had brightened when she’d spied him in the aisle. He had to wonder. Was he entirely alone in his affections? Was there a chance her feelings could change?
“I made you a sandwich in case you didn’t grab lunch at your apartment.” She opened the refrigerator. “There’s soda, butterscotch pudding, leftover Thai food from last night.”
He resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. He wanted to know what it would be like to hold her against his chest, she who was so very dear to him. He shook his head. “Later. I want to get going in the garage. What do you usually do on a Sunday afternoon?”
“After I’ve changed out of my church clothes, you mean?” She closed the fridge and leaned against it. She’d drawn her hair back into a ponytail, leaving wispy curls to tumble around her face and emphasizing the delicate cut of her high cheekbones. “You know what I do. I spend time with Comanche. I realize you don’t have a lot of free time. So why are you doing this? You need to have some fun while you can.”
“Tinkering with cars is fun.”
She frowned at him playfully, as if she refused to believe him. “When is your next deployment?”
“Mid-January.” He pushed open what had to be the garage door—sure enough, it was—and searched for the light switch. The last thing he wanted to see was the look on her face. “I’ll be gone for six months. It’s a limited thing, we think. I’ll be back sometime in June.”
“So in other words, you are spending one of your last weekend afternoons replacing my truck’s starter?”
“Like I said. Fun.” Light tumbled down on her pickup and her otherwise empty garage. This was, like everything, neat as a pin. That appealed to the Ranger in him. He set down the heavy box. “I’ll be perfectly happy. If you trust me to stay here alone, why don’t you head over to the stables? Give Comanche a howdy from me.”
“Oh, I cannot abandon you here. That’s not right—”
“It is, if I say so.” He drew his keys from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. He was getting used to the sweep of affection that hit him like an undertow every time he was around her. “Take my truck. Go ahead.”
“I’m supposed to play while you work?”
“Like I said. Fun. Besides, won’t Comanche be expecting you?” Overwhelmed by a richer tone of caring, he brushed back a silken curl from her face. Surprise flashed across her features, whether from his touch or his words, he didn’t know. “You don’t want to let him down.”
“No, but I don’t want to let you down, either.”
That mattered to him. A lot. Maybe she cared more than he’d thought, more than she realized. “I’ll be happier knowing you are doing what makes you happiest. Go on, get outta here. I want you to.”
She couldn’t miss the tenderness in his tone. He probably should have tried harder to hide it, but that wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t be sure, but she looked a little dazed as she nodded, his keys in hand.
“I’ll be back later, then.” She retreated, walking backward through the kitchen. “I’ll have my cell on me, so call if you need to.”
“Sure thing.” He fought images threatening to take over his brain—glimpses of a future with her hurrying off to the stables to ride or work. With him working on the trucks or on a honey-do list around the town house. Maybe even getting a horse of his own so they could spend Sunday afternoons riding the mountain foothills.
I want it so much, Lord. Is it possible? Or am I chasing after a dream I can’t have? The front door opened and closed. A few moments later his truck started outside on the driveway and powered away.
He popped the hood and got right to work sorting through the tools and getting out the ones he would need. He had to consider September’s side of things.
She wasn’t ready to let anyone close, much less open her heart. Sure, he understood that. He was guilty of the same thing himself. It was why he’d spent most of his adult life alone, and his few girlfriends hadn’t been around for long. He blamed his job, and that was part of it. It was tough to build a relationship when you were almost always apart and with half the globe separating you. But he had been at fault, too. He’d never let anyone close, not as he’d let September.
He’d opened himself up, and it had to be to the one woman who couldn’t do the same. He grabbed the droplight and hung it on the upraised hood. He uncoiled the power cord as he went, and knelt in front of the outlet. September had shut herself down to survive—surviving was something he knew about. In the heat of battle when a mission went south, you focused on shoring up your defenses, protecting your six and getting your men out alive. Losing wasn’t an option, so that meant that you fought with all you had.
He figured that was how September did it. She had gotten this far in survival mode, but that was only good for so long. When the battle was over, when the turmoil was past, you had to deal and figure out a way to move on with what you learned along the way. He grabbed the drop cloth and gave it a shake to unfold it. He had learned long ago that it was his choices that defined a man, and what he fought for and stood for every step of the way.
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 bi
g 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.
Chapter Ten
“Hawk, 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.
