Homefront Holiday (4 page)

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 could 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.

C
hurch 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.

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.