by Jillian Hart
“Where did you learn to cook like that?” She took the coat from him and hung it over the back of one of the breakfast bar chairs.
“My mom.” He took matches out of his pocket and broke one from the book. “She was a firm believer a boy should know his way around the kitchen.”
“Smart woman.” September nodded approvingly, and he didn’t miss the appreciation in her gaze.
“She is a chef.” He struck the match and touched the flame to the first taper. “I was one lucky kid. Mac and cheese took on a whole new meaning at my house. I’ll have to make that for you, too, sometime. The best on the planet.”
“I won’t argue.”
“Good. Then it’s a date.” Why that word popped out, he couldn’t say. Probably his subconscious at work, already well aware of what his conscious mind wasn’t quite ready to admit, even to himself. The candles lit, he shook out the match and set it in the sink. “I ought to have you over to my place, maybe after Christmas. I’ll do the works. A fancy salad, garlic bread and some sparkling grape juice.”
“I’ll bring dessert. I make a pretty good chocolate cheesecake.”
“Great. We could do it for New Year’s Eve, unless you have plans.”
“Not me. Chessie was going to drag me over to her house, but now she’s going out with this guy she’s had a crush on forever.” She was talking a little fast as he pulled out a chair at the table for her. “So that leaves me free.”
“Good for her. Good for us.” He helped her scoot in her chair, trying hard to sound casual. She needed that security, he understood. She wasn’t ready for serious yet. For a Ranger trained to successfully face, execute and complete every mission, he was out of his depth. His training did no good. There wasn’t a force strong enough on this earth to stop the tides of his heart. He had no defense against it. He could only do his best to be what she needed—a friend and nothing more. He circled around to his chair and dropped into it. “I’ll rent a movie and we can make a real evening of it.”
“Perfect, since we both would be home alone otherwise.” She draped the cloth napkin over her lap, dainty as could be. “Part of the mountain trails are open again. It’s safe.”
“Funny, it’s been so long ago that this area was mined for silver. Everyone’s forgotten those old days. You have to wonder how many mine heads were covered over with boards, and time and the forest did the rest.” He held out his hands, thinking that time changed all things. Looking at the amazing woman across the table, he had to wish that her decision never to love again might be left behind and forgotten, too. “Do you want to say the blessing, or should I?”
“Are you kidding? You are the guest and the cook.”
Was it his imagination, or did her fingers tighten on his? Was the warmth in her voice of a deeper tone? Profound tenderness welled up within him, refreshing to a part of him that he didn’t know was wrung out and worn. With hope, he bowed his head in prayer. “Dear Lord, thank You for these blessings we are about to receive and for strengthening our friendship. Please guide us in being your helpful servants in all ways, amen.”
“Amen.”
He liked the way her sincere alto blended with his voice. He adored the reverent way she bobbed her head, a little end to her praying, and flashed him a megawatt smile. Full of life and dazzlingly wholesome. Not the September he remembered from long ago or the sad woman who had lost her true love, but a new woman, more beautiful than she had been before.
“How was your ride?” Since he’d been the cook, he grabbed her plate and dished up a serving of casserole. He did his best to keep it casual. “At least it didn’t rain for you.”
“Unlike yesterday when we were riding.” She sparkled with amusement as she took the plate he offered. “Chessie was there.”
“I didn’t know your sister still rode.” He scooped up a helping for himself.
“Oh, she loves to ride, she just stopped being horse crazy in her teens. Something I have never successfully been able to do.” She spooned out a few pieces of buttered carrots and asparagus, lifted the vegetable bowl and passed it to him. “Otherwise I would have gone to college and become a librarian like my sister.”
“You, a librarian? I can’t see it. That would put you indoors all day.” He dished up a heap of vegetables. “Although I’m sure you would make a fantastic one, if that’s what you decided you wanted.”
“I can’t see myself boxed in all day. I love working with horses and with kids. Even the barn work puts me in a good mood. The horses always do something funny, even Mel.”
“Who’s Mel?”
“He’s this incredibly obstinate horse. He belongs to the stable. Colleen, my boss, heard from the vet about this gelding who was terribly neglected and needed a home. That’s how we get a lot of our rental horses, sadly enough. People either come on hard times and can’t pay for the substantial cost of keeping a horse or they are abusive.”
“So the horse I rode yesterday had been rescued?”
“Yep. He was put in my section of the barn, so I got to befriend him and I was in charge of his care. That was five years ago now.” She poked the tines of her fork into the casserole. “General was grateful for the care and kindness he received. It took him a good while to trust again, but when he did it was with his entire heart. That happens most of the time, but not with Mel. No, Mel has a mind of his own.”
“In a good way, or a bad way?” He leaned toward her as if he really wanted to know.
“It’s sort of mixed.” She took a bite, shocked by the amazing explosion of taste on her tongue. “This is really good. As in, great. This was all in my pantry?”
“I ran to the grocery store in your truck.” His confession came quietly, almost sheepishly. “I had to test it out. Make sure the starter worked.”
“Sure. So you planned this all along?”
“I had hoped to help you out, that’s all, like friends do for one another all the time.”
“I can’t argue with that. This is amazing.” She took another bite.
“Back to Mel,” he prompted, although he looked pleased with her compliment. “You can’t leave me in suspense.”
“Mel likes to amuse himself at our expense. He’s figured out that he isn’t going to be hit or beat or abused no matter what he does. As if. Anyway, at first, I thought he was just testing. When I had him tied in the aisle while I cleaned his stall, he would unlatch other stalls with his teeth. I would look up and a horse would be loose—a serious thing—and he would be in their stall eating their grain.”
“Sounds like a little ingenuity to me.”
“I finally figured out he could untie his lead, so I had to use one with a metal hatch. Then he started nipping me when I had my back to him. When I turned around, he always stood there so innocently. So I had to tie him farther down the row, and he would practically incite a riot with the other horses while I mucked out his stall. I would have to put down my pitchfork and go see why a half dozen horses were rearing and neighing in their stalls like fire had broken out.”
“He wanted your attention.”
“It took me longer than you to figure that out. He was such a handful. Always knocking over any bucket he came across, making sure I got as wet as he did at bath time. I would take him out for a ride to stretch his legs and he’d take the bit between his teeth, ignore me completely and charge like a lunatic over the nearest fence. Then he would walk around, still ignoring me, arrive at the gate to be let in only to do it all over again. This was all with his good-old-boy attitude. I couldn’t stay mad at him.”
“He ought to jump those obstacle things. Like in competitions.”
“I finally figured that out, too. He’s blissfully happy carrying little students on his back over the jumps in the arena. He’s a character.”
“I’m not surprised you helped him to be happy again.”
“I think it was his indomitable spirit.” She was blushing as she speared an asparagus tip. She stared at her fork, because it was easier
. If she saw the regard on Hawk’s handsome face, it would affect her. She wasn’t ready for that.
“Either way, it’s a good story. I suppose those stables are full of them.”
“Every horse, every rider.” She wasn’t about to bore him with a hundred horse tales. “Your turn. Tell me something about Mark Hawkins. Something that no one else knows.”
“I am a walking mystery,” he quipped, showing off that sense of humor she was fond of. The candlelight softened the hard planes of his rugged face, making him twice as striking. It was easy to imagine him in a tux and equally simple to see him suited and booted for a mission. He took a swig from his juice glass. “I want to trek through Nepal. I want to learn to play the guitar. I want to marry the love of my life and grow old with her.”
“You’re a romantic.” The words caught in her throat. His confession moved through her, and a strong and new image tried to wedge its way into her brain, but she could not let it. She absolutely could not allow it. She reached for her juice glass to wash away all traces of emotion. “I can see you sitting on the porch with a pretty woman, both of you gray and wearing spectacles.”
“I’m glad you can see it. That makes one of us. Hoping is different than believing.”
Her grip slipped on her glass. The contents splashed dangerously, but she was able to set it on the table without incident. Whew. For a moment there, she thought he was talking about the two of them. But no, that was her mind at work, not his. “I’m sure it will happen for you. One day you will meet the right woman and you will know she’s meant to be on that porch with you.”
“I pray that you are right.” He looked forlorn for a moment, as if he were afraid he would never find that right woman. As if he would never be loved. “If I can let any woman close, that is.”
Sympathy rushed through her. She knew exactly how it felt to look at the future and see nothing of what once had been her deepest desire. No loving marriage, no children, no happily ever after. Life would be good and wonderful, of course, but it wouldn’t be as rich without a lifetime of love and family. She didn’t want that for him. “I’ll keep you on my prayer list. I’m sure God has the right woman for you all picked out. It’s just a matter of when.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” He pasted on a smile, but it was only a superficial one. She was surprised love meant so much to him.
Hard not to like him more for that. She swirled her fork and spooled pasta in slow twirls. “I tell you what. Until you find that special someone, I will be your date every New Year’s Eve to come, unless you’re away on a deployment, of course.”
“I would like that.” His grin widened, but his eyes continued to look sad, as if doubt were weighing him down. Maybe a little loneliness, too.
She knew what that was like. Her feelings took a dangerous dip. I do not care about Hawk, she told herself, but it was no longer the truth. She did care.
Far too much.
“I am looking forward to going back home.” Hawk gave the nonstick pan a good swipe with the dish towel and pronounced it dry. He hiked over to the cabinet next to the stove and piled it into place on the shelf. “I’m especially psyched to see Pierce get married.”
“You get a kick out of that, don’t you?”
“I do. It’s the real thing. This will work out for them. Pierce will be happy.” He rejoined her at the sink and waited for the strainer she was in the middle of rinsing.
“How do you know?” She was curious. She’d only met Tim’s brother twice, but he seemed like a nice guy.
“Pierce lives for his fiancée.” He took the pot lid and gave it a good rubbing. “You would like her. Her name is Lexie and she’s into horses, too. She grew up with them, or something. I’ll have to pay more attention next time I hear her talking about it.”
He liked that his comment was met with an amused shake of her head. September smiling was what he lived for.
“I’ll have to introduce you.” He squinted at the lid—dry—and stowed it in the cabinet. “She’s transferring from a university in Montana to go to school in Tacoma, after they get back from their Hawaiian honeymoon.”
“I would love to meet her.” She bent over the sink to give it a good cleaning with the dishcloth. “We could go riding together.”
“See? You two will be fast friends.” He hung the towel to dry on the oven handle, watching September at the sink. He grabbed the dry-erase pen hanging from the board hung by magnets on the fridge and scribbled down the right digits.
Tonight had been nice. It was as simple as pie to see how life with her would be: easygoing evenings sharing the cooking, a meal and the cleanup. They had an amicable accord, as if their personalities fit together without effort or pretense. He couldn’t ever remember being this happy and centered. He had never felt so sure.
She is what I want, Lord. If it’s possible. If it’s Your will. The power of the prayer left him reeling. Emotion hit him harder every time he looked at her. Every time he heard her voice.
“When do you leave?”
“Tuesday.” In two days. It didn’t seem possible that he could tear himself away. “He hated to think of it. “Hey, you wouldn’t want to help me find them a wedding gift?”
“I suppose.” She looked up from scrubbing. “I promised Colleen I would help out in the office, but I could meet you in the afternoon.”
“Great. I could come pick you up and drag you around town.”
“As long as you don’t mind me doing a little shopping, too.” She turned on the faucet to rinse the edges of the sink. “I’ve left way too much to the last minute.”
“So have I.”
They walked together into the living room where the Christmas tree blazed. She had added more decorations, making the scraggly tree look noble and majestic. Garlands reflected the colorful tones of the twinkle lights. A tree skirt draped over the planter added the perfect background for the small stack of wrapped gifts on the floor beneath. He had already hid his gift—a necklace of diamonds and gold in the shape of a horse—in that pile for her to discover come Christmas Day.
“I’ll walk you out.” She had snagged her coat from the back of the chair, and he helped her into it. Tenderness deepened again as he did this small thing for her, holding the garment, slipping it over her shoulders, gently gathering her hair to free it from the coat’s collar. He wanted to always be there for her, doing what he could to make her life better.
He grabbed his coat from the entry closet where he’d hung it earlier after coming home from the grocery store, and shrugged into it. They walked out into the chilly shadows together. Walking along beneath the glow of the porch lights, he decided nothing could be nicer than to be at her side. She wasn’t ready to love again, and he had a deployment scheduled in less than a month. How would this work out? He only knew one thing—he was committed to her, heart and soul, and always would be.
“I better hand over these.” She scooped his keys out of her pocket. “Tell your mom when you see her that she did a good job raising you. I’m impressed.”
“You really liked the tuna casserole.” He chuckled, a comforting sound on a cold night. “Maybe I’ll show you how to make it one day and let you discover the secret ingredients.”
“What’s so top secret?”
“I’m not telling you yet. You’ll have to stick around to find out.” He rested against the side of the truck, as if in no hurry to leave. “Look at the street. I should have asked if you wanted me to put up houselights for you.”
“I don’t have any. I didn’t buy any last year, and this is only my second Christmas in my town house.” She joined him, leaning against the pickup to gaze down the long stretch of the cul-de-sac.
Bright, colorful bulbs rimmed the rooflines of houses, dangled like icicles from porch eaves and draped over bushes and shrubs. Shining reindeer grazed and holy stars hung in front windows. A tasteful, poignant manger scene gleamed from the front lawn across the street. How had she not noticed the beauty? On some of the
shortest and darkest days of winter, there was one day of perfect light.
“When I’m gone, you’ll write me, won’t you?” He shifted a little closer until their elbows bumped. “I noticed a computer in your family room. Hard not to notice it on the desk.”
“You mean on your deployment.”
“If that’s not too much to ask.” He cleared his throat, as if he were a little unsure. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to bring up anything painful for you.”
“You mean all the corresponding Tim and I did when he was overseas?”
“Yep.” He appeared vulnerable, something she would have thought impossible given his tough-guy character.
“No worries. I would miss you if I couldn’t keep in touch. I’ve grown strangely fond of you.”
“Strangely?” That made him laugh.
“Maybe the better word is unexpected.” A little warning buzz sounded within her, but did she listen?
No. She charged right on, saying what rose on the tide of her emotions instead of sensibly censoring it. “You’ve changed my world, Hawk.”
“The best friendships do that.” His arm stayed pressed against hers, an innocent touch and a powerful connection. One that made her feel as if her heart were threatening to open wide.
She could not let that happen. Staring off down the street, she searched for something to say that would draw back the moment, but not end it entirely. Except the silence between them felt companionable and comfortable. Maybe it would be best not to say anything more. Hawk understood they could only be friends, so why weren’t her feelings agreeing?
A minivan ambled down the road and pulled into a driveway two houses down. Doors opened and a family tumbled out, the excited voices of the children ringing like carillon bells. The mom went ahead to open the front door while the dad untied the tree tied to the top of the van.
