The Soldier's Holiday Vow

by Jillian Hart

  She hung her head, realizing that was one question she would not have answered. Remembering the look on his face, it was over. She was too late.

  Sorrow hit her with a bleak punch, unfair on an evening so beautiful in a sanctuary fraught with light and glorious in song.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.” Frank Granger, Pierce’s uncle, drew up a chair and hunkered down beside him at the cloth-covered table. The extended family had moved into the living room to pour over old wedding albums.

  Hawk didn’t have the will to join them. All through the wedding talk, rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, he couldn’t help wondering about his future—the one he wanted more than air to breathe. An impossible future. He should have known that all along. He could have saved himself a passel of disappointment.

  “Just got a lot on my mind.” He grabbed the can of root beer he’d been working on and upended it. Drained the last of the soda in three gulps.

  “When a man looks like you do, it’s always woman trouble.” There was no pulling the wool over Uncle Frank’s eyes. He was a widower who ran a successful ranch north of Jackson Hole. It was hard not to like Frank. He was the sort of man who looked you in the eye when he talked to you, a man who always did the right thing. Hawk had known him since he was a boy and respected him more with each passing year.

  “If I tell you you’re right, that I’ve got some major woman trouble, then you will want to know about it.” He set down the can and pushed back his chair.

  “We don’t have to talk about it.” Frank reached across the table to steal a carrot stick left on the vegetable plate from dinner. “Sometimes it’s best to let things simmer. If you think on it long enough, the right answer will come to you.”

  “I appreciate that. But I doubt there’s a right answer.”

  “There’s always a right answer, son.”

  “No, it’s definitely over.” Miserable, Hawk snatched a carrot stick, too, and crunched on it. “She dumped me.”

  “That hangdog look on your face can only mean one thing.” Frank looked as if he had seen it all. “I was a married man for a long time. I know what a woman can do to a man’s heart.”

  “It’s my fault. Not hers.” That was the worst part. He’d known how she felt and yet he went charging ahead like a good Ranger. But he forgot sometimes you got further by sitting tight. “I fell in love with Tim’s ex-fiancée.”

  “You sure know how to find trouble, don’t you?” Frank finished off his carrot stick and stole a radish off the platter. “It takes time to get over a loss like that. The more the girl loved him, the longer it’s gonna take and the harder it is.”

  “I know. I moved too fast. I thought she felt the same way, or close enough.” His guts twisted and he tossed the carrot stick onto his abandoned dinner plate.

  “The thing about women is that you can never tell what they’re thinkin’. They will surprise us men every time. I can see this girl means something real to you.”

  “As real as it gets.” The conversation in the living room crescendoed into a roar. Laughter, playful shouting and Mrs. Granger’s drill sergeant voice echoed through the house. Even Roger, the old sheepdog, added a woof! woof! as if cheering someone on. Pierce and his brother were probably wrestling in the house—something crashed to the floor. Yep, and now they were getting into trouble.

  “That’s no way for you boys to behave on the night before a wedding. Your wedding, Pierce. I’m not sure you are mature enough to get married after this.” Beneath the firm layer of stern in Mrs. Granger’s tone was suppressed laughter. “Sean, I can’t believe you. Get off the floor and pick that up. You’re lucky nothing broke. Now straighten up, both of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” two voices answered in unison, stuttering laughter.

  Hawk shook his head. Time passed, one year blurring into the next, but some things stayed the same. The Granger family would always be just like this, even without Tim. It heartened him to know love went on, and that families could survive. Maybe if he gave her enough time—

  “This girl you’re in love with. You want to marry her?” Frank broke into his thoughts.

  “More than anything on this earth.”

  “You’re the man. It’s up to you to convince her of that.” He leaned back in his chair, nibbling on the radish. He nodded in the direction of the kitchen doorway. “Hello there, Giselle.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Pierce’s little sister padded into the room. The dark-haired college-age sweetheart was going to break a lot of hearts one day. “I wanted to get a start on the dishes. Mom and Lexie did all this cooking and baking. Mom’s tired, and Lexie is getting married tomorrow. They should not have to do the dishes.”

  “I agree. Let me pitch in. Make myself useful for a change.” Wry-humored, Frank pushed out of his chair. “Hawk, listen. I’ve thought this through. You are a Ranger. Tim was a Ranger. Is that the problem?”

  “It sure is.” His guts coiled tighter. “Plus, I think she’s afraid to love anyone again.”

  “Most of us don’t want to walk a path that we’re afraid of alone.” He grabbed a few plates to stack. “Maybe she needs you more than you think.”

  “Maybe.” Stoneware clinked and clattered as Giselle rinsed dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. He pushed away from the table, scooped up as many glasses as he could carry and followed Frank to the sink. Music vibrated from the front room—Mrs. Granger was playing the piano. The simple melody of “Silver Bells” was drowned out by the Granger family’s singing.

  He wished September were here. Regret choked him. He wished he had held back on that kiss. He wished he could change her fear. He didn’t know how to fix it. Uncle Frank had to be right—he was always right. What was the solution? How was he going to try to win back a woman who’d admitted she would never love him?

  He missed her so much, it was a physical pain. A blade-sharp incision digging into his guts. An emptiness in his soul he couldn’t heal. She touched him deeply, where no one ever had before. She turned him inside out and upside down, and yet her softest touch made peace settle within him. She was the reason he drew breath. This was no ordinary love. Not for him.

  This was a divine gift. The chance for a truly special love. How could he walk away from that?

  “Hey, Frank, get in here!” Mr. Granger called out to his brother, when the song ended. “You and Carol can play duets, and we’ll all sing along.”

  “Oh boy, I knew this was gonna happen.” Pretending to grumble, Frank carried one last load to the sink. “You look like a man who needs a dose of Christmas spirit. C’mon, Giselle, Hawk. We’ll do these later.”

  Looked as though he wasn’t going to be able to avoid the family—usually the one thing he looked forward to the most when he came home. Mom was sitting on the couch, cradling a cup of tea, the fireplace crackling merrily in the hearth nearby. She smiled at him and patted the cushion at her side. As Mrs. Granger made room on the piano bench and Frank gave the ivories a tickle, he gave the sheepdog a head pat and dropped down next to his mom.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” she observed. “You aren’t coming down with something, are you?”

  “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.” That was true enough. He’d hardly slept a wink last night. He feared tonight he would be doing the same. Twisted up over September, unable to fix what was wrong, looking at his future without her.

  The piano burst into life, cheerfully banging out the first notes to “Jingle Bells,” and everyone in the room sang along with the melody. The room was crowded—besides Pierce’s family, all of Frank’s grown kids circled around the piano. The younger cousins from the other uncle had settled on the floor. The fire crackled, the Christmas tree glistened and snow gusted against the big bay window.

  In the center of the room sat the happy couple. Pierce, looking pretty satisfied, had his arm around his bride. Tomorrow at two o’clock in the century-old church in town, they would join their lives as one. T
hey were going to be happy. He was happy for them. Couldn’t happen to a better couple, but all this true love and happily ever after made him think of what he had lost.

  September. Somehow he would go on without her, not that it would be easy. She hadn’t lost her heart, the way he had. He still loved her. It was as if his heart could not help feeling hers, and his caring unstoppable. What was the right thing to do? Did he turn away from her or help her?

  He lifted his voice in song with the others, but his spirit wasn’t in it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rain pinged off the windshield of September’s truck as she pulled into the riding stable’s graveled lot. It was still early on Christmas Eve morning and the place was quiet. She eased to a stop next to Colleen’s SUV. Sitting in this truck was a constant reminder of Hawk. Every time she started the engine and it turned over without a hitch, she had him to thank.

  It wasn’t only the truck. Every time she walked beneath the gutter, it didn’t leak. Every time she turned on her Christmas tree lights. Every time she saw those stars lighting up her front yard at night. She thought of him, the man she had sent away. He’d gone home to his family. Soon he would be deploying to a war zone. He was out of her life for good.

  That was what she wanted, right? She didn’t know anymore. The thought of never seeing him again killed her. An iron band had cinched around her ribs, squeezing tighter and tighter with every memory he’d left her.

  Pain she had not been able to drive from her heart. She had sent him away thinking it was the one way to protect herself from pain, but she had been wrong. She yearned to see his rugged face, to hear the deep notes of his voice, to feel safe and protected and whole again whenever he towered at her side.

  Stop thinking of him, September. She launched out of the truck and closed the door with a bang that echoed like a gunshot in the nearly empty lot. A few vehicles were parked near the barn’s entrance. The car and SUV she recognized as belonging to owners dropping by to ride their horses, but the white pickup sure looked like Hawk’s.

  Don’t be silly, she told herself. All she could see was the top of the cab and the truck’s bed. Plenty of people drove white trucks. It wasn’t his. Hawk wouldn’t come back to Fort Lewis until after Christmas and his trek in the backcountry. Gravel crunched beneath her boots, and she swiped rain from her face. Disappointment sank through her. Proof how badly she cared for him.

  Be honest, September. You don’t just care for him.

  A movement caught her eye, a flash of red in the gray rain. A man’s shadowed form swaggered out of the barn. Her palms went damp. Her knees turned to gelatin. Only one man had ever had that effect on her—one wonderful man.

  Hawk. Joy exploded through her at the mere sight of him shouldering out into the rain. She drank in the sight of his cherished face, his blue eyes. His stalwart, noble presence made her feel alive.

  “Figured I would find you here.” He jammed his fists into his pockets. He didn’t look like a man who was glad to see her.

  No, he wouldn’t be, she reminded herself. You broke his heart, remember? You hurt him to save yourself. She wasn’t proud of it, but she could see now that she was still letting fear rule her. She might as well be back in that mine shaft, trapped in a grave of fear and darkness. That was no way to live. She squared her shoulders, steeled her spine and tapped down the concrete walkway, splashing in his direction.

  “Hawk, what brings you here?” She was pleased with how normal she sounded, not at all like a woman who had been battling regrets or another lost chance at love. She hiked her chin higher, digging deep for every scrap of courage. Facing him was like seeing the littered remains of another lost future, more impossible dreams. She was stronger than loss, tougher than sorrow.

  “I came to say goodbye to Comanche.” No hint of emotion on his face. No warmth in his words. No welcoming smile softening his granite face.

  “Comanche?” Her footstep faltered, her knees went weaker. She froze in place on the walkway, halfway between Hawk and the barn. The wind swirled rain and stirred the grass near her feet and the trees lining the walkway moaned with the wind.

  He hadn’t come to see her at all, she realized. Disappointment turned to torture. She wanted to dart straight for the office door. After all, work was waiting. But she would not use an excuse to avoid him or anything, not any longer. She fisted her hands, determined to see this through the right way. “I hope you two had a good chat.”

  “He seemed glad to see me. I’m short three peppermints.” Hawk did her the courtesy of not smiling—of not reminding her of the dimples she loved and the tiny crinkles that dug handsomely into the corners of his eyes.

  Whatever she did, she refused to acknowledge the memories trying to flood her brain. She would not remember him offering her his heart. She would not remember riding horses with him, or standing in front of a Christmas tree’s glow or how her hand fit perfectly within his. The one thing she could not do—that she could never do—was remember the bliss of his kiss, the gentleness, the sweetness. Or her strength would falter. He looked all warrior, not like a man who had come to hope for a second chance at love.

  “Seems I’ll be shipping out earlier than expected.” He sounded impersonal, as if they had never been more than passing acquaintances. As if the last few weeks hadn’t happened and she hadn’t obliterated his feelings.

  “But you were on leave.”

  “I’m probably going to cut it short.”

  “Probably?” Realization dawned across her face. “Oh, you’ve decided to head out.”

  “I haven’t made it official yet, but that’s my plan.” He stopped, unable to bridge the rest of the distance between them. Raindrops danced on the concrete he could not make himself cross. “I’m just tying up loose ends. Saying goodbye to friends.”

  “I hope you have a good tour.” The wind blew a shock of hair into her face and she brushed it back. “Just come back safe and sound.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Being here hurt him something fierce, but he had come to say something, and he wouldn’t leave until the job was done. “How’s the truck running?”

  “As good as when it was brand-new.”

  “I’m glad. An afternoon’s job well worth it.” Seeing her forlorn and hurting was like a bullet to his chest. He didn’t want to make this harder for her. If he put in his paperwork, then he had to head off to Afghanistan knowing there were no second chances. No maybes. That he wasn’t destroying a remote chance with her because of it. He wanted more for his life, and he was not afraid to fight for it.

  “Thank you for all you have done for me. I can’t begin to tell you.” She hesitated.

  For a moment he thought he saw something change on her face, the quietest wish, the deepest longing for him. But then it was gone, and he couldn’t be sure. Then he wasn’t sure at all.

  He was standing like an idiot in the rain, praying for a sign—any sign, the smallest sign—that he hadn’t been wrong. That he hadn’t mistaken friendship and gratitude for something grander. Everything within him wanted to ask her if there was a way they could make this work, if he had a chance of capturing her heart. But he could not do it yet. He could not risk frightening her away a second time. He had to tread carefully.

  “It was nothing.” He shrugged off her thanks for the few odds and ends he’d done. “A few nails here, an adjustment there, a new part to install. It was my pleasure.”

  “I wasn’t talking about things. You helped me.” She laid a hand over her heart. “I will never forget what you gave me.”

  At her words, everything went still. Even the rain seemed to stop falling. “What did I do?”

  “You reminded me that there are precious gifts in this life and they are worth the cost.”

  For a moment—just a split second—he thought he saw a question in her beautiful brown eyes. A silent plea that settled in his soul. Hope resonated throughout his entire being. “How did I do that, sunshine?”

  “I don’t know.
It’s as if I came back to life the moment you first took my hand.” She took a step closer. “I’m sorry for what I said. I hurt you, and I regret that more than you know. Please forgive me.”

  “Done. Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.” The shadows had slipped away from him, along with the tension of pain on his face. He stood straight and tall, invincible and every last bit of her only dream.

  If he was anything less of a man, then she wouldn’t be hurting like this. She wouldn’t be falling apart over having lost him. She wouldn’t be prepared to risk her heart again. But how did she tell him? She didn’t have the words. All she had was emotion carrying her toward him. “I never wanted to see you again. I wanted to mean it, but you made me love again.”

  “I made you?”

  “I couldn’t stop myself.” She fought to hold back her feelings. She told herself to be sensible. She couldn’t afford to love him. He would go off on mission after mission, risking life and limb and her heart. She’d done it once and lost. Losing like that again would be too much. She knew the cost. She knew how much it would hurt. “I didn’t want to love anyone again. I couldn’t help loving you.”

  “You don’t know how good that is to hear.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if giving thanks. When he opened them, she could read his devotion. “The moment I looked down into that mine and saw your precious face, I was a goner. I love you, September, with all I am and all I will ever be. I was miserable back home facing the dreams I’d lost.”

  “What dreams?”

  “The ones with you at my side every step of the way. Starting family traditions, singing around the piano, family get-togethers and our wedding.” He cleared his throat, as if overcome by emotion. “I stood up for my best man. I was happy for him. Don’t get me wrong. I want him and Lexie to live happily ever after. But I want one of those, too. I want forever with you, September.”

  Forever. Panic lashed at her. If she wanted to start believing in fairy tales again and in the kind of love that remained true and everlasting, then she shouldn’t fall in love with a Ranger. But her heart refused to listen.