*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

**Buttons and Bobbins

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

†The Granger Family Ranch

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

*The McKaslin Clan

“Being a soldier was the only thing I ever wanted to be.”

“Why?” She had to know why Hawk had chosen to be a Ranger. “Why do you guys feel so committed to the army?”

“Because I fight for what I believe in. I love this country. I want to do my part.” Not defensive, just powerful. Poignant. “Although it comes at a cost. I’m still single.”

“Why haven’t you gotten married?”

“Why get involved with someone when I knew I had to leave?”

“And yet being alone is the reason you stayed in the army?”

“It’s a circular argument. Don’t think I don’t know that.” He shrugged a shoulder, as if dismissing it, but something that looked like sadness clung to his features. “You’re alone too, September. I don’t have to ask to know the answer. You aren’t dating.”

“No. I don’t have the heart left.” She couldn’t give voice to the loneliness of the past two years and the fears that she had been broken beyond repair. Beyond hope. Beyond God.

“We are two of a kind.”

Books by Jillian Hart

Love Inspired

Heaven Sent

*His Hometown Girl

A Love Worth Waiting For

Heaven Knows

*The Sweetest Gift

*Heart and Soul

*Almost Heaven

*Holiday Homecoming

*Sweet Blessings

For the Twins’ Sake

*Heaven’s Touch

*Blessed Vows

*A Handful of Heaven

*A Soldier for Christmas

*Precious Blessings

*Every Kind of Heaven

*Everyday Blessings

*A McKaslin Homecoming

A Holiday to Remember

*Her Wedding Wish

*Her Perfect Man

Homefront Holiday

*A Soldier for Keeps

*Blind-Date Bride

†The Soldier’s Holiday Vow

Love Inspired Historical

*Homespun Bride

*High Country Bride

*In a Mother’s Arms

“Finally a Family”

**Gingham Bride

JILLIAN HART

grew up on her family’s homestead, where she raised cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book and spending quiet evenings at home with her family.

JILLIAN HART
THE SOLDIER’S HOLIDAY VOW

So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.

—Hebrews 4:16

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

September Stevens fought despair. Not an easy thing to do. The cold damp earth surrounded her like a grave. The jagged, crumbling walls of the mine shaft lifted above her and drank up the faint starlight. She and little Crystal Toppins had been down here for a good twelve hours. Sunset came early, near to four-thirty this time of year. That meant enough time had passed for it to be nearly midnight. If the sky wasn’t partly overcast, typical for the Pacific Northwest in winter, the rising moon might have offered some relief from the suffocating dark and fear.

Maybe then it would have been easier to hold on to hope.

“They aren’t coming, are they?” The ten-year-old girl gulped down a sob. It was too dark in the belly of the shaft to see more than a shadow of the child lying on her back on the earthen floor. Terror made the girl’s voice thin and raw. “Are we going to d-die?”

“No, of course not.” September leaned back against the hard-packed dirt wall and stretched her legs out as far as they would go. She had to believe that was the truth, but privately, she wasn’t so sure. Crystal had been seriously hurt. September’s injuries weren’t as severe, but her left forearm had a compound fracture. With no antiseptic wipes, no sterile bandages and no first-aid kit—all of which were still packed safely in her saddle pack on her horse—she had done all she could.

She couldn’t let her fear win. The horses would have returned to the stable, although it was miles away down Bear Mountain. Comanche was well trained and fond of his molasses snacks. He would have gone straight home and that meant Colleen, her boss, knew they were missing. Search parties would have gone out immediately—probably ten hours ago or so.

“They know where we were headed, so everyone knows where to look,” she reasoned, putting as much reassurance as she could in her voice. Crystal’s condition could be fragile, and she had to give the girl strength. “They are coming. They will be here as soon as they can.”

“What if they can’t find us? What if they stop looking?”

“They won’t do that, sweetie.” September pressed her arm against the girl’s gently, comfortingly. “Do you think your mom would let that happen?”

“No.” Crystal had to almost be smiling. “Mom’s a little intense.”

“Yes, she is, and that’s a great thing. A fantastic thing. She will mow this mountain down to find you. I’m absolutely sure about that, so no more worrying. Got it?”

“Got it.” Crystal sighed, a desolate sound in the dark.

A nearly absolute dark. September looked up through the ragged hole in the earth above to the disappearing stars. A cloud layer was moving in from the coast, blotting out the twinkling lights one by one. The dank chill of the ground crept into her bones, and it was a cold that gripped with talons. She would never be warm again.

Where was their search party? It was the question she had been asking since their horses balked, probably feeling the earth shift beneath their hooves. It was a good hour’s ride back to the stable. That meant a search party should have been passing by within an hour, maybe two. Although she had listened diligently and watched carefully, there had been no sign of anyone riding the trail hunting for them. Did that mean no one would be coming? How long could they last, injured and without food or water or even a blanket for warmth? Was it possible they would die in this thirty-foot grave?

If so, this wasn’t how she wanted to go, afraid and wishing she could change so much of her life. Her mess of a life. She drew in a rattling breath, leaned back against the cold earthen wall and closed her eyes against the thrum of pain inside her head. No one twenty-three years old should die with regrets. It wasn’t right that she had so many of them.

If she had one do-over, it would be to go back in time exactly two years, two months and ten days and force Tim out of the army. To have made her fiancé realize that he had done his part in serving several tours of duty overseas. That he didn’t have to stay in the military.

If she had been adamant, if she had stood her ground, then he would still be alive today and she wouldn’t be in this abandoned shaft with an injured child weakening by the hour, bits of earth crumbling down on top of them.

Please, Lord. Send somebody before it’s too late for Crystal. She sent the prayer heavenward, but feared it was not strong enough to escape this dark hole. Her faith was not exactly rock solid these days. She feared God had given up on her. She didn’t blame Him one bit.

“I’m c-cold.”

“Here, lean closer to me.” She lifted her arm, carefully scootching closer to the injured girl. It was all she could offer.

The little girl leaned against her with another sigh, and September held her. She felt the fine chills of Crystal’s body and feared she was slipping into shock. She could do nothing more for the child, who she feared was bleeding internally. Before the sun had gone down, there had been just enough light to see the growing bruise on the girl’s abdomen. There was only so much basic first aid could do.

“September?” Crystal’s voice sounded feeble, as if she were fading away. “What is it like to die?”

“I don’t know.” She felt the strike of the past, as if she was being pulled back to the cold, lifeless shock two years, two months and ten days ago. She had just turned into her driveway after coming home from the grocery store and seen the army chaplain and Tim’s commanding officer at her front door.

She shut off her feelings to block the pain. After all this time, she still battled the overwhelming wave of grief. What had death been like for Tim? Had he known it was coming or was it so sudden, he didn’t know? Had he suffered? Was his last thought of her? She hated how time had begun to dim his memory. She could no longer pull his image up in her mind as clearly. It felt doubly cruel.

“Jesus is supposed to be in heaven waiting for us, but what if I don’t go there?” Crystal’s voice wobbled. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“Jesus loves you, Crystal.” She didn’t feel equipped to be reassuring anyone’s faith. “Please stop worrying and relax. You need to rest.”

“Okay.” The girl sounded all wrong—as if her condition were worsening, as if she were fading away.

Please, Lord, don’t let that happen. It wasn’t fair that Crystal had been so wounded when she had not been. She adjusted her broken arm carefully, where it rested on her thigh, and ignored the sheering pain. Take anything from me, Lord, and give it to Crystal. Please use it to save her life.

No answer came. The last stars winked out. The little girl beside her gave a sob, as if she were running out of hope, too. September’s stomach clamped tight with prickly fear for the girl. The truth was, she felt as if God could not see them and suspected He didn’t care.

And wasn’t that a sad way to feel? Her breath hitched in her lungs with a sharp pain. What happened to the woman she used to be? She dug deep, past the hard, suffocating shell of grief, and tried to see her old self, the one she had lost along with Tim and their dreams. ThatSeptember would not be on the edge of despair. She would be certain God would see her to safety.

She’d had such perfect faith back then and doubt would never have crept in. Nor the certainty that she was forgotten in this grave deep in the earth.

How had she come to this place in her spiritual life? She felt blood trickling down her forehead—the cut must have started bleeding again—and gingerly blotted it with her T-shirt hem. The two years were a blur as she’d fought to put one foot in front of the other and make it through each minute, each hour, each day. Now she found herself here, trapped in the earth, more lost than she knew how to say.

“I feel real bad, September.” Crystal sobbed once, just once.

“Hang in there, sweetie.” She adored her little riding student; she felt useless to help her now. She tightened her hold on the girl. “Close your eyes and rest.”

A snapping branch shattered the vast silence. Hope flared to life. She eased her arm around the girl and sat up, not daring to say anything or to even think the words. After all, it could be a wild animal passing by and not a rescue party. But still, it could be. She carefully rose upward, laying her good hand on the damp clay wall for support. Bright spots flashed in front of her eyes and the pounding in her head felt like the worst of thunderstorms. She kept her thoughts clear and strained for the tiniest sign that anyone was nearby.

“Hi, there.” A man’s rough baritone preceded the shine of a halogen flashlight.

There was something about that voice, both familiar and startling. Her thumping brain couldn’t make sense of it right off. He took a moment to look away, as if signaling to more people out of her sight. Her double vision made it hard at first to recognize the striking, chiseled lines of his face, the high, proud forehead and straight bridge of his nose.

“You two are a welcome sight.” He grinned down at her with an easy friendliness that spun her back in time.

“Hawk.” Tim’s best friend. Her blood went cold. Seeing his shadowed face sent her into another shock wave. Tremors quaked through her as she stared, openmouthed. The last time she’d seen him it had been dark, too, as dark as this mine shaft, the night full of loss and sorrow where no light could reach.

Why did it have to be him? Couldn’t their rescuer be someone—anyone—other than Mark Hawkins?

“September Stevens, you look worse for the wear. Contusion. Concussion, maybe? Your arm’s broken?”

She nodded, struggling to think past her shock. “Crystal’s hurt. I think she needs a helicopter.”

“Got it.” Their gazes met and the force of it was like a punch. She knew without asking that he understood what she couldn’t say, not without panicking the girl. He turned toward the child. “Crystal, hello there. Can you see me?”

“Ye-ah.” She sounded weak. Too weak.

“Good, ’cause I’m comin’ down to fetch you. You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever rescued.” Unruffled, that was Hawk, and beyond the tough-as-bedrock Army Ranger was the heart of a truly kind man. He climbed into a harness and tied off. “Everything’s gonna be fine now. You hear me?”

“Ye-ah.” Even in terrible pain, the girl managed a small, brief smile.

September’s knees were watery, so she sank back down beside the girl, watching as Hawk tested the rope and nodded to the other rescuers somewhere out of her sight. Good to go, he rappelled through the darkness, the rasp of the rope the only sound between them. Their ordeal was over, and they were found. That ought to bring her sheer relief. It didn’t. Knowing their rescue came at the price of seeing Hawk again was no comfort. She winced when his feet hit ground. His presence seemed to draw every particle of air from the underground cave.

“We’ll get Crystal up first,” he murmured, leaning close. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the mix of mountain air, leather and exhaust clinging to his clothes. “We’ve got a chopper coming…” He paused to catch the gurney being lowered on a rope. “And Crystal’s mom knows she’s been found.”

“Good.” What a relief. She thought of Patty Toppins, a concerned, caring mom who had to be frantic with terror. Dully, she realized Hawk was kneeling next to Crystal. She cleared her throat. “Let me help.”

“No need.” His gloved hand caught hers and sent a shock through her system.

Alarmed, she wrenched her hand away, bumping into the earthen barrier. Her breathing came raggedly, her pulse thudded too loudly in her ears. Why had she reacted so strongly to Hawk’s touch? Why had he unsettled her? She blinked, realizing another man was circling around to assist Hawk. Someone else roped down without her noticing. Too much was happening, and she couldn’t seem to focus. It must be because of the concussion.

Hawk had already turned back to business, the wide set of his shoulders visible in the eerie shaft of light from above. It was good to see him. It was horrible to see him. She felt useless as the men started an IV for the girl and strapped her into the gurney. The second man hooked in. She caught a glimpse of Crystal’s face, ashen in the harsh lighting, before the ground team hoisted her swiftly upward into waiting hands. The whop-whop of a helicopter told her help had arrived just in time.

“Let me take a look at you, September.” Hawk’s voice, gentle with concern. “You’re hurt.”

“Nothing like Crystal.” It was too hard to look him in the eye, tougher still to see the shadows of the life and the dreams, which were gone. He reminded her of what was lost. Of the determined, competitive, patriotic man she had wanted to marry. A part of her had died right along with Tim. She wished she could step farther away from him, but there wasn’t room enough to escape him. Stuck against the earth with nowhere to go, she was forced to stand while he inched closer. The cold damp seeped through her shirt and she shivered.

“Look up.” Hawk shone a light into her eyes and flicked it away. He did it a second time, frowning.

She wanted to pretend he was a stranger, a man she did not know. It felt as if parts of her cracked again after she’d worked so hard to keep together. Panic crept through her and she pushed away. “I’m fine, Hawk. I just need to get out of here, that’s all.”

“I don’t think you’re fine. You’re going to need stitches.” His gaze raked across her face like a touch. “You’ve got quite a concussion. And what about that arm? That’s going to need surgery.”

“I’m alive. That’s fine in my book.” Maybe she sounded a little harsh, but it had been a terrible day and a worse night. Seeing him suddenly like this was the last thing she could deal with. She couldn’t risk going back to that dark, broken place. “All I need is one of those harness things. Can you call up for one?”

“Better yet, you can ride with me.” He sounded calm and unwavering. He was a fine soldier; seeing her again and remembering what had happened to Tim wasn’t likely to throw him.

Unlike her. She caught sight of the extra harness hooked into his, and her knees wobbled. His hand shot out, steadying her by the elbow, the strength and heat of his touch seared like a burn. She didn’t want to go up with him. “Maybe someone else—”

“We have to hurry, September.” His gaze turned grim, the only hint at what he might be feeling. His shadowed face became a hard mask, impossible to read. “We don’t want to keep the bird waiting.”

“I don’t need the helicopter.”

“It’s the best way.” He had been calm on the night after they had buried Tim, too, a steady rock in the darkness. “I don’t call the shots.”

“But I don’t want—” She couldn’t finish. Her skull felt ready to explode from pain. Her stomach cramped with light nausea. She couldn’t keep arguing with him, but how could she let him take her into his arms? She fisted her hands. She was not strong enough.

“You don’t want to cost Crystal valuable time.” Gentleness blended with cold-hard steel. He wrapped the harness around her hips and secured the strap, so close she could see the whorl of dark hair at his crown and smell the clean scent of his shampoo. His gaze latched on to hers with the force of the earth on the moon. “Put your arms around me.”

If Crystal hadn’t been waiting on her, she never would have done it. One thought of the girl had her wrapping her arms around Hawk’s wide, muscled chest. She laid her cheek against his shirt pocket and squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the night she had refused his sympathy and the kind embrace of Tim’s best friend. His heart walloped beneath her ear. The fabric of his BDUs roughly caressed her cheek as the iron band of his arms embraced her. The rope tugged, lifting them off the ground.

She had to will away the memories whispering at the edges of her mind and force them into silence again. Looking back wouldn’t change the truth. It wouldn’t make her whole and strong again. It wouldn’t return Tim to her. Would Hawk understand that? They began to sway, oddly buoyant as the rope drew them upward.

“You doin’ okay?”

She nodded.

“You’re not gonna pass out on me, are you?”

Choosing silence again, she shook her head. Hands were reaching out for her.

“Careful of her left arm,” Hawk called out.

She felt someone grab her good arm to hoist her to her feet. She opened her eyes to see the gloomy bowl of the sky and the brightly lit wooded area. A dozen search-and-rescue team members were busy at work, manning the ropes, running the lights or talking on squawking radios. A search dog barked at his handler, excited by her arrival, as if he had been worried, too. She looked everywhere but at the man with one arm still around her. Even on solid ground, she felt as if she were swaying in midair.

Hawk was talking, rattling off her injuries, unhooking the carabineer connecting them, and her harness fell away. Other soldiers helped her onto a gurney. She didn’t want to, but her head was spinning. She realized the volunteers were from nearby Fort Lewis, where the Ranger battalion Tim had belonged to was stationed. She’d been introduced to some of the men at one time or another, men who were faceless now in the shadowy dark. She let them strap her down and check her vitals.

“You did great.” He knelt at her side, his hair slick with sweat, and his granite face compassionate. “You saved that girl’s life. You knew what to do and you did it.”

“I didn’t do much. I raised her feet. I kept her quiet. I gave her my sweatshirt.”

“It’s the simple stuff that can make the most difference. You kept her as stable as you could until help came.” The gurney bounced as the men lifted her. He stayed by her, carrying his share of her weight. “You did good.”

“I know what you’re doing. You’re distracting me from my injuries so they don’t seem as bad.”

“Someone will splint that arm for you in the chopper. I’m glad you’re okay, September. I’m glad I found you.” He kept his voice casual and easy.

“Thank you, Hawk.”

“Sure thing.” He kept his footing, not easy on the rocky edge of the steep trail. They were closer to the bird now, the engine noise making it too loud to say much. He had enough light to see her better, the silk of her cinnamon-brown hair, her smooth creamy complexion and her lovely, oval face. She was not the same woman he remembered. Gone was her sparkle, her quick, easy manner that twinkled like summer stars. Sure enough, Tim’s loss had been hard on her.

She wasn’t alone with that.

Strange how God worked, he thought, as he ducked against the draft from the blades. While he hadn’t seen her in years, time and the rigors of active duty hadn’t obliterated her from his memory.

Why was it so easy to remember the good times? They flashed through his mind unbidden and unwanted. Seeing her picture for the first time when Tim had dug it out of his wallet after joining their battalion. Meeting her at a bowling party when their scheduled picnic had been rained out—typical Seattle-Tacoma weather. Hearing about her in the letters Tim read when they’d been sharing a tent and griping good-naturedly about their time in the desert. Those were innocent times, before he’d lost one of his lifelong friends. Before he’d had to deal with the harsh realities of war.

“On three,” their sergeant barked, and they lifted her into the chopper. Hawk hopped in after, glancing at Crystal, stabilized and prepped, before his gaze lingered on September’s face. Even in the harsh light, she was beautiful.

“You want me to call anyone?” he asked her, taking her good hand, careful of the IV. “Your mom?”

“Don’t trouble her. I can take care of myself.” That was it, no more explanation. She didn’t meet his gaze.

He could feel the wall she put up between them like a concrete barrier. Was she mad because he had missed Tim’s funeral? His plane had come in late. He’d flown halfway around the world, and military transports weren’t the most on-time birds in the sky. Had she been alone? Tim’s brother, Pierce, had been there, but he couldn’t remember the details, like if her family lived nearby. Anyway, he and Pierce had flown out that night, leaving her desolated in the cold rain.

“Anyone else I can contact?”

“There’s no one.” She turned her head away and swallowed hard, as if she were in emotional pain. The shadows hid her, but he could feel her sadness.

The captain tapped him on the shoulder. Time to go. He hated that he couldn’t say goodbye; she didn’t want to hear it. He hated what his presence was doing to her. Some memories were best left buried. He knew how that was.

His boots hit the ground, and he got clear. Dirt rose up in clouds as the bird took off, hovering off the ground for a moment as if battling gravity, then turning tail and lifting purposefully into the starless black.

“Was that September Stevens, Tim’s former fiancée?” Reno asked as they watched the taillights grow distant.

“Yep.” That was all he could say. Something sat in his throat, refusing to let him say more. He, Tim and Pierce had all been buddies since they were kids. They’d been neighbors back home in Wyoming, running wild in the foothills of the Rockies. They’d called themselves the dynamic trio back then, naive kids in a different world. War had changed that. War changed a lot of things.

He thought of September and her broken heart. There was some serious pain there. He felt for her, but it was why he kept clear of relationships. His life as a Ranger wasn’t conducive to long-term commitment. It was his experience that love didn’t necessarily grow fonder half a world apart. What he did was dangerous. Tim hadn’t been the only soldier buried over the recent conflicts defending this country’s freedom. He couldn’t justify putting a woman through that, waiting and wondering, fearing with every phone call or knock on the door that he was dead. Seeing September was all the proof he ever needed of that.

He couldn’t say why, but she stayed on his mind, a sad and beautiful image he could not forget.

Chapter Two

“How are you feeling today?” The hospital volunteer flashed a sunny smile as she set the bouquet of flowers onto September’s bedside table.

“Better.” In some ways, but not in others. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her hospital gown. For one thing, this had to go. She felt vulnerable in it. She carefully adjusted her casted forearm on the pillow. “I get to go home.”

“Great news.” The volunteer stepped back to admire the small collection of flowers. “I’m going to come by the riding stable you work for. I’ve always wanted to take lessons. I don’t suppose you teach beginners. I don’t even have a horse.”

“You can rent one along with your lesson. It’s done all the time.” September reached for the pen and notepad on the bedside table, ignored the twinge of pain in her skull and the bite beneath her cast. She scribbled down the stable’s phone number. “When you call, ask for me. I’ll give your first lesson free, although you will have to spring for the horse rental.”

“That would be fantastic. Thank you.” The volunteer brightened and looked younger than September had first guessed. Maybe in her early thirties or late twenties. It reminded her that everyone went through tough times. Everyone had a challenging road to walk. The volunteer padded to the door. “Oh, it looks like you have a visitor. A totally handsome one.”

That could only mean one man—Hawk. She didn’t know anyone else who could be described as totally handsome. She expected dread to build inside her like a river dam, but it didn’t.

“Hey there.” Hawk waited for the volunteer to clear the room before he leaned one brawny shoulder against the doorjamb. He clutched a small vase of gardenias in one capable hand. “Thought I would swing by and check on you. See how you’re doing.”

“Good, considering.” She hugged the bedcovers to her, aware that they were practically alone together. The nurses at the station a few doors down felt very far away.

“You look much better than the last time I saw you. Trust me.” A hint of a grin tugged at the spare corners of his mouth, but his gaze remained serious and kind. “I hear they’re springing you today.”

“Yes, they’re releasing me on my own recognizance.” She wanted to keep things light and on the surface, to hide the fact that she was numb inside, like winter’s frozen ground. It was better that way. This was how she had survived Tim’s burial and moved on. Today was simply another day, like so many had been, one she needed to get through one step at a time, one breath, one moment. Seeing Hawk didn’t change a thing.

“I meant to come by sooner, but you know how it is. Duty calls.” He strode into the room like some kind of action hero, confident and athletically powerful and mild mannered all at once. “I didn’t know if you wanted to see me again, but I had to look at you and know for myself that you are going to be all right.”

It hurt to look at him. Not only because of Tim—but also because of the hardship etched on Hawk’s face. She studied him as he set the vase on the night table with the several other arrangements, the sweet gardenia scent mixing pleasantly with the roses and carnation bouquets. Her skin prickled at his nearness like a warning buzzer going off to announce that he was too near. She could smell the sunshine on his T-shirt and the faint scent of motor oil on his faded denims.

This close, she could see the lines etched at the corners of his eyes, ones that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. She wrapped her arm around her middle like a shield. He’d had his losses, his trials and his sorrows. She was not looking at the same man she’d once known as Hawk, in those long-ago-seeming days before Tim’s death. War and loss had changed him, too.

“You have family coming for you?” The sunlight from the window spilled over him, gilding him. With his muscled frame straight and strong, he resembled the noble warrior he was.

And exactly why was she noticing that? She had no interest in love anymore. She would never fall for another soldier. It was that simple. She stared hard at a fraying thread in the hem of the blanket covering her instead of meeting his gaze. “My sister is running late. She’s taking me home.”

“You still have an apartment near the post?”

“No.” She was surprised he had remembered her little one-bedroom place in a pretty gray building along a greenbelt. He’d attended Tim’s birthday party, the only one Tim had been home for through their entire relationship. “I’ve got a town house now, not far from where I work.”

He didn’t say the obvious, that both she and Tim had been saving up to buy a house after they were married. She had invested her savings in a place of her own instead.

“Look, September. I never thought we’d meet again.” He squared those impressive shoulders of his. “I thought about looking you up and seeing how you were. But I was afraid it would be too painful for you. I can see it is.”

“It’s okay.” She wasn’t the only one hurting. She might not have known him well—he’d been one of Tim’s best friends, not hers—but she could see he had walked a hard road, too. “I’ve thought about finding you or Tim’s brother, on and off. I wanted to, but I could never make myself do it.”

“You wanted to see me?”

She nodded. He and Tim had been together at those last moments. Hawk held the answers to the questions that had kept her wondering. But would asking them bring up as much sadness for him as it did for her? “You missed his funeral.”

“Not my idea, but I made it for the wake. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.” His brows knit together and he leaned back against the wall, pensive and dark. “You could have asked me then, but you refused to speak to me.”

“I was hurting too much. I wasn’t ready to hear about what happened over there. I had lost my one true love. I was torn apart. I couldn’t stand to know the details.”

“Don’t blame you there.”

“But I had questions later. After the first shock of loss faded, I thought of all the things I should have asked, things that I needed to know. And you were far away and unreachable.”

“I’m sorry about that.” He felt helpless. He should have looked her up. He should have made sure she was all right.

“There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to know the answers.” Her confession came as softly as a hymn, resonating deep within him.

Ranger School had taught him how to lead, how to fight and how to accomplish his goal the right way, no excuses allowed. He might have led missions in the most dangerous places in the world, but facing the pretty brunette in front of him, he was at a loss. He was well trained and fearless, but right now all his training meant little. He did not know how to ease her grief. She had loved Tim deeply.

“You let me know which side wins out.” It was all he could do for her. “If you want answers, I will give you what I can.”

“Thanks, Hawk, and the flowers are lovely. My favorite.” Although she sat straight and sweetly, the corners of her mouth fought to hold steady. Shadows dimmed the bronze depths of her eyes, which had once sparkled and twinkled with abundant joy.

It was hard seeing the change in her. She looked like a woman who no longer laughed or who no longer knew how to live. Sympathy squeezed his hard heart. “I picked up a few things hanging out with the Granger brothers. Tim was always sending you gardenias. I figured there had to be a reason.”

“A slight one.” She didn’t need to say how much she had appreciated that about her man.

Hawk could see it. He felt drawn to her in a way that was beyond sympathy. The tightness in his chest was much more than a man’s concern over a woman he had rescued. The past connected them like a bridge across a river, taut and undeniable. He’d been a fool to come; it had been the right thing, but foolish. In the end, he couldn’t stay away. “I made a mistake with the flowers. They’ve reminded you of Tim.”

“Yes, but it was thoughtful.” She tried to put a bandage on her pain with a tentative smile, but he wasn’t fooled.

“I didn’t think. I just remembered—”

“I know,” she interrupted, saving him from feeling in the wrong. She was gentle and kind that way. Lovely, not just on the outside but inside, where it truly counted. “I haven’t received flowers in a long time. Now look at all of this. Fall down an old mine shaft and I get all this attention.”

She was trying to steer away from talk of the past and of everything that hurt, too. Relieved, he went with it and put on a grin. Maybe it was best to leave sad things in the shadows. “How did you get down there, anyway?”

“You don’t want to know.” She played with the blanket hem, her long, sensitive fingers working a blue thread. Her sleek brown hair fell around her face like a shield. “I made a mistake.”

“Who hasn’t at one time or another?”

“I should have been more strict with Crystal, but she’s one of my favorite students.”

“Plus, you are a pushover. At least, that’s my best impression of you.”

“I’ve been called worse.” She twirled a loose thread around her fingers, hating the way her hand trembled. She fought to stay numb, keeping the broken pieces safely frozen as if they were nothing, nothing at all. “Crystal’s mare was sidestepping and acting weird.”

“In my opinion, horses always act weird.”

“That’s because they aren’t always predictable. Even the best-trained horse will surprise a good rider.”

“Even you?” He arched one dark brow. “I’ve heard you are quite the horsewoman.”

“Believe me, I know plenty who are better riders than I will ever be. Especially when Crystal refused to get back on the trail. When her horse balked, I should have insisted she dismount immediately. I already had, and I was reaching for her mare’s bridle.”

“You must have trouble with wildlife on that mountainside.”

“Yes, and if a horse sees a predator, there’s no guarantee you can hold them. Crystal is a strong-minded girl, I adore her, but she was testing my patience by not listening. Then the ground gave out. Her mare must have sensed the earth wasn’t steady. She took off, threw Crystal. I hit a back hoof on the way down. We fell a long way. My horse had already taken a few steps off the trail and had calmed down.”

“Both horses wound up back home okay.”

“Yes, and I’m grateful. Comanche is a good boy. He’s the reason you found us.”

“Yes. It’s the reason we knew where to start looking. At first they thought Crystal’s dad might have abducted her. That threw everyone off for a bit.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t considered that. She knew a little of her students’ private lives, but not too much. She was aware the family had been through a bitter divorce. “I can’t imagine how terrified Patty must have been.”

“We were called in around chow time to help with the search.” Hawk pushed away from the wall and grabbed a hard-backed chair by the top. He swung it toward the bed, seating himself on it like a motorcycle.

“I should have realized they would have called over to Fort Lewis for help with search and rescue.”

“Then, what, you would have been better prepared to see me?” Kindness warmed his intense blue gaze. “You couldn’t have known I would be on post at all. Just like I couldn’t have known when I took a look at who we were searching for that they would hand me your picture.”

“No.” She swallowed hard, as if not pleased they had circled back around to the past, which was an impossible river between them.

“It’s going to be all right, September.” He reached out, his warm callused hand settling on her forearm. “We don’t have to talk or think about it. We’ll chalk it up to divine providence and go on from here.”

“Good plan.” She tried to think straight, but the sunlight blazed strangely bright until she could not see. Maybe it had something to do with her concussion. When the sun faded to its usual midmorning glow, Hawk gazed with concern at her, appearing as solid and as unyielding as a granite mountain. She swallowed hard, trying to act normal. “You must be up for deployment soon.”

“I’ll be Stateside for a while, but you know that can change at a drop of a hat.”

“I do. You’ve been a Ranger for a long time. You like the lifestyle.”

“Seven years.” He shook his head, scattering what there was of his short dark hair. “You’re doing well for yourself. I hear you have a reputation at what you do.”

“A good one, I hope.”

“Very good, from what everyone at the stables told me. You’ve done an admirable job, September. I wish I could say I’ve got my life together the way you have yours.”

“Why do you say that? I thought you loved your job.”

“Now, I never said that exactly. I love being a Ranger, but it comes at a high cost. I almost opted out. Losing my best friend was hard on me. In the end I feel committed to what I do. I don’t think I will ever give up the military. Although you have a nice peaceful life here. Spending your days doing what you love. It’s got to be a good gig.”

“I like it.” She tried to resist the pull of his kindness. “It’s not saving the world.”

“There are many ways to save the world. Teaching kids to ride and show their horses, that’s a good way for them to spend their time. Instead of some alternatives.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way. There are a lot of good life lessons in caring for a horse and establishing a trusting relationship.”

“Maybe that’s where I went wrong in life. I didn’t have a horse.” He winked at her, but she got the feeling he was covering up something that saddened him. He rose from the chair and swung it back into its original place. “Well, I don’t want to take up more of your time. I’m glad you’re doing well, that’s what I had to know.”

“Thanks to you.” Her throat tightened, and if she didn’t say it now, then she never would. “It was easier seeing you again this time, when I expected it.”

“You knew I would drop by?”

“Yes. It’s something a man like you would do.” She blushed at the compliment she paid him, feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable when she didn’t want to feel anything at all. “When we were in the mine and I first saw your face, I knew everything was going to be all right.”

“That has to do with you, September, the woman you are. I did my job, that’s all.”

How she wished she could turn back time and work it so her life and Tim’s could have turned out differently. She would give anything to fix what had been broken, both in her and for Hawk, as well. He’d lost one of his best friends, a friend he hadn’t been able to protect.

She didn’t know what to say to him as he crossed toward the door. A knock startled her. Her sister hurried into the room with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and gave Hawk a narrow look.

“And here I thought you would be bored waiting for me.” Chessie backtracked. “I didn’t know you had a visitor. I can come back. I’m dying for a cup of tea.”

A seed of panic took root between September’s ribs. Panic, because her sister had jumped to the wrong conclusion—that she and Hawk were interested in each other. Even the thought of opening herself up like that again terrified her. “No, stay.”

A little too abrupt, September, she told herself. Hawk had to have heard the sharpness in her tone. What was he thinking?

“No need.” His rich, buttery baritone rang reassuringly. “I’m on my way out. September, you take care now.”

“You, too, Hawk.” The words squeaked out of her throat.

His gaze fastened on hers, making the room and her sister’s presence fade away. She saw something akin to her own wounds shadowed there, hiding in his eyes. Her pulse skyrocketed over the fact that she wanted something she no longer believed in.

“I hope you find that happy ending you always wanted. You deserve it, September.” His voice resonated with sincerity. Saying nothing more, he nodded in acknowledgment to her sister and strode from the room. The pad of his boots on the tile faded to silence, but his presence somehow remained.

“Good-looking guy.” Chessie poked her head around the door frame to get another look. “Who is he?”

“One of the Rangers from Fort Lewis who found Crystal and me.” She breathed a sigh of relief, troubled by the man and his shadows. At least he understood. He had his wounds, deeper and more severe than hers could ever have been. War could do that to a man.

“There was road construction. Sorry. I should have remembered, but you know me, too much on my mind.” Chessie plopped the duffel on the foot of the bed and unzipped it. “So, are you going to date him?”

“Date Hawk?” There was a picture she couldn’t quite bring into focus. “Hardly.”

“I had to ask. You never know. Time heals all wounds. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but one day things will be better.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She didn’t believe it, but she didn’t want to drag her sister down. “Did you remember to bring shoes?”

“Are you kidding? There’s nothing more important than shoes.” Chessie pulled a pair of snazzy boots from the bottom of the bag. “Ta-da. See, your big sister won’t ever let you down.”

“You’re one blessing I’m grateful for.” She smiled, trying too hard to find the normalcy her life had once been. It didn’t work, but she hoped she looked as if it did. She feared she would always feel out of sync, as if she were looking at her own life through a foggy mirror. She thought of Hawk and wondered what he was doing with his day off. She wondered how he managed to walk in the light with so many wounds in his soul.

Hawk strode through the automatic doors and into the blinding sunlight. The cool kiss of the mid-December breeze felt pleasant against his skin. He’d stopped by to see the little girl, Crystal, but she was in ICU and not taking any visitors. He’d met her mom, though, and learned that they expected to move her out onto a floor that afternoon. Things were looking up. He’d left a balloon bouquet with Patty, and that was that. He had no more reason to think about September Stevens. So, why was she on his mind?

It was a mystery. Loose ends, maybe, or just the fact that their paths had crossed. He hauled his bike key from his pocket, fiddling with it as he hiked toward the parking lot. If only he could have stayed away. Seeing her again tied him up in knots, and he was afraid to look at those tangled threads too closely.

He straddled his Harley and plugged in the key. While the engine rumbled, he hauled his helmet off the backrest and that’s when he saw her. His gaze drew to her like fate. September, in a mandatory wheelchair, emerged from the automatic doors onto the concrete walkway, with his gardenias in her arms.

How pretty she looked. She wore a light pink T-shirt that said Ride for the Cure, jeans and black riding boots. Her softly bouncy hair shone like cinnamon in the sunshine. She was still as sweet as ever. She’d always been delicate and kind, and not even life’s hardships had changed that. He surely hoped that God had been watching over her specially, as he’d kept her in prayer. He would never forget seeing her after the funeral, an image of perfect grief. He’d been in awe of her. What would it be like to love so much? To have been loved like that?

He tugged on his helmet and yanked on the straps to secure them. Across the way, a light blue SUV crawled to a stop at the curb, and September’s sister emerged from it. With a hurried gait, she started loading the flowers several hospital volunteers were carrying. They scolded September for standing and trying to help out. He spotted a few arrangements already in the back of the SUV.

He grabbed the grips and fed the engine. The bike gave a satisfying roar. Something kept him from leaving. Maybe it was the sight of September, pale and fragile with a bandage on her forehead and a pink cast on her left arm. Yep, that got to him. He couldn’t hold back the pounding need to look after her. He wanted to be the one to take care of her. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It simply came into being.

With one last look, he rolled the bike backward out of the parking space and released the clutch. The Harley shot forward, taking him away from September, but not from the thought of her.

Chapter Three

Chessie set the last vase of flowers in the middle of the breakfast bar and fussed with it, turning the vase to get it just right. “So, time to fess up. What’s the deal?”

“About what?” September looked up from her position on the couch, sorting her mail. A surprising amount of junk had accumulated during the two days she’d been in the hospital.

“Not what. Who.” Satisfied with the way the flowers looked, Chessie dropped into one of the bar chairs. “What was Mark Hawkins really doing in your hospital room?”

“The obvious. Bringing flowers. Seeing how I was.”

“I didn’t know you had anything to do with that life anymore.”

She meant army life. September sighed, remembering the tough time her sister had given her over her decision to date a Ranger and then accept his marriage proposal. She tossed a handful of advertisements into the paper-recycling bin. “I haven’t seen Hawk since the funeral.”

“Talk about coincidences.”

“You have no idea.”

“Not a good coincidence.”

“No.” Her heart twisted hard, remembering how Hawk had changed. What had happened to him? “I’m trying to move on with my life, and it’s not easy. Something always pops up to pull me back.” Something forced her to remember when life had been bright and her dreams shiny and new.

“He should know that. He should have left you alone.” Chessie, protective big sister, folded her arms across her chest. “Want me to talk to him?”

“No. He meant well. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to see him again. As if. He will probably be TDY by the end of the week.”

“You mean on a tour of duty?” Chessie relaxed and propped her chin on her fists. “All right, I won’t hunt him down. But that doesn’t mean you’re okay. You didn’t need a reminder of your losses.”

“True.” She tossed a few more envelopes thick with coupons she would never need. “He looks hardened. No longer the carefree guy I remember.”

“War will do that, I suppose. It’s his choice to do what he does, carrying a gun and shooting people with it.” Chessie had a strong opinion on that. She had strong opinions on just about everything. “Don’t worry, I will stay off my soapbox, but what kind of man does that year after year?”

The kind who cares about others more than himself. September kept quiet. She wasn’t up to any kind of serious discussion about the rights and wrongs of war. Nor did she remind her sister that those words maligned Tim’s memory. Tim who had died trying to save innocent embassy hostages. Hawk had been wounded on that mission, she remembered. The hows and whys were a mystery to her.

“I’m going to swing by and pick up some pizza. That ought to put a smile on your face.” Chessie slid off the chair and hooked her purse strap over her shoulder. “I’ll get a dessert pizza, too. The Stevens girls are going to totally carb out.”

“Sounds just like what I need.” Comfort food all the way. She flung the last junk mail envelope into the bin. There, done with that chore. Not that there weren’t a dozen more needing to be done around here. Clutter was accumulating. She needed to give her family room and kitchen area a serious going-over. Keeping busy would keep her mind off her troubles, right?

“What are you doing?” Chessie scolded from the doorway. “I see you getting up. You’re going to do housework, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that like an accusation?” September swiped a stack of books off the coffee table and tucked them into the crook of her good arm. “I have pizza coupons you can use.”

“I have some in my car.” Chessie closed the door and crossed through the living room. “That’s it, I’m calling for delivery. Someone needs to keep an eye on you. Now lie down. Do it now, or I’ll make you.”

“This sounds exactly like my childhood,” she quipped, reluctantly putting down the books. “No one can understand the hardship I went through as your sister.”

“Ha, ha.” Chessie tapped her foot, pointing to the arm of the couch where she’d propped two fluffy down pillows earlier. “Feet up. I mean it—”

The doorbell rang. She was saved. She kept her feet firmly on the hardwood floor. “Should I get that?”

“As if.” Chessie huffed out a frustrated sigh as she pivoted on her Mary Janes and marched through the town house. “You stay right where you are, sister dear. You just got out of the hospital and you’re going to take care of yourself even if I have to—”

She opened the door and fell silent. Curious, September leaned forward far enough on the cushions to see a uniformed delivery dude holding pizza boxes.

“Got a delivery for Hawkins,” he announced.

“Hawkins?” That had her moving across the room. She was halfway to the door before she saw the black motorcycle pulling up to the curb out front. Hawk swung off his bike, unbuckling his helmet.

“I’ll sign for it.” He slung his helmet over the backrest while the delivery guy handed Chessie the pizzas. The look on her sister’s face wasn’t a good one.

What was Hawk up to now? Why was he here? She hadn’t recovered from seeing him in the hospital. She hadn’t recovered from seeing him at all. Why did he have to show up looking so alive and vital?

“What aren’t you telling me?” Chessie asked as they watched Hawk sign the charge slip with an efficient scribble.

“Not one thing.”

“I hope you’re right. I’ll take these to the kitchen.” Chessie tapped away, her tone cool.

The sunlight graced him, but he was a man who walked as if he did not notice. He’d turned grim over the last hard years, and his strong, granite face, which had always been quick to grin, was serious.

She held the door for him, watching as he strode up the walkway. She couldn’t stop from caring. Well, not the serious kind of caring. What she felt was sympathy, she told herself, understanding for the man who had rescued her. Nothing more complicated than that.

“Hope you don’t mind.” He slipped the receipt into his wallet. “I figured you wouldn’t be up to cooking and your sister might appreciate a little help.”

“It was nice of you.” She didn’t need to wonder if there was a deeper motive or a hidden agenda. He was a straightforward guy. She liked Hawk; she had always liked him, and why wouldn’t she? He had been a good friend to Tim. He was a good man. That’s what she would concentrate on and not the past, not the hurt. She pulled open the door a little wider in welcome. “Why don’t you come in and have lunch with us?”

“I don’t mean to impose. I wondered if there was anything I could do for you. Run some errands or something.” He crossed the threshold, towering over her. “I’m good at fetching.”

“Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do?”

“Positive.” His humble grin reassured her.

He was merely being kind, the way Tim would have wanted. That realization made her heart squeeze shut. There was the past, yawning wide open, full of everything she had lost. Best to pretend it wasn’t there, a void between them. Dully, she let him take charge of the door and close it.

“I didn’t know what kind of pizza you like,” he explained, “so I got a couple different combos.”

“It smells delicious. When it comes to pizza, I’m not picky. As long as it has a crust and cheese, I’m happy. Thanks, Hawk.”

“No problem. I’m glad to see you doing better.” He jammed his hands into his jean pockets, matching his stride to hers as they crossed through the living room. “You gave me a good scare when I first saw you in that mine.”

“I was pretty scared myself.” She ignored the look her sister gave her and reached up into the kitchen cabinets for three plates. “But it was only a few stitches.”

“Don’t forget the surgery. What do you think you’re doing?” Hawk sidled in behind her and took the plates before she could lift them from the shelf. “Go sit down. I’m thinking your sister will agree with me.”

“That’s right,” Chessie answered curtly from across the room.

“I’m fine.” Sure, her arm hurt, but she wasn’t about to be waited on. She could take care of herself.

“You had best stay off your feet, September. You need to heal.” His warm, caring baritone wrapped around her like a wool blanket, soothing and tender. Caring was in the layers of his voice, in the lines crinkling pleasantly at the corners of his eyes, in the space between them.

He really is a nice man, she thought. She simply had to be careful so the memories couldn’t hurt her. So he couldn’t hurt her. She slipped away from the counter and from him. “Nobody needs to worry about me. It was a hard fall, true, but I wasn’t hurt like Crystal. Did you hear? She’s doing better. I heard from her mom that she was already asking when she could go riding again.”

“That’s a good sign. She’s a trooper. I hope she’s back in the saddle before long.”

“Me, too. You were great with her. I know all about your training, of course, but to see it in action, it was impressive.”

“Just your tax dollars at work.” He opened the box tops for Chessie, so she didn’t have to put down her plate to dish up, but his gaze remained firmly on September. “You kept the girl alive until help came. You made a real difference.”

“I didn’t do much, and you already said that earlier.”

“That doesn’t make it less true.” He took the next plate, watching her carefully. “Ham and pineapple or the works?”

“A slice of both, please.” She was ashen, all the color drained from her cheeks, her wide brown eyes too big for her face. Had his presence done that to her? Or her ordeal? She looked fragile with her casted arm in a sling.

“I’ll dish you up. Go ahead and sit down,” he told her. “Join your sister.”

She nodded once in acknowledgment, watching him closely with appreciation or caution, he couldn’t tell which. Maybe a little bit of both. He chose the largest slices and slid them onto her plate, aware of every step she took through the kitchen of granite counters and white cabinets to the seating arrangement in a sunny bay window nook. Her sister spoke to her in low tones, and the murmur of women’s voices was a strange, musical sound he wasn’t accustomed to. But he liked it. He was more used to the sound of plane engines, gunfire in the shooting range and barked orders rising above it all in a no-nonsense cadence.

He reached for the last plate and served himself two slices of the works. Why was he here? He couldn’t quite say. He wanted to believe he’d come because Tim would have wanted him to make sure September was well.

That wasn’t the whole of it. He had to be honest. He closed the tops to the pizza boxes and crossed over to the women. His boots knelled as loud as a jackhammer on her wood floor, or at least it felt that way because when the women looked up, their conversation silenced. One studied him with suspicion, the other with a hint of care. That surprised him. Her caring couldn’t be personal. He’d never had the chance to know September much, it was hard to get to know any civilian with his job, but he knew she was gentle and kind to all she met—even to a guy like him. Emotion tugged within him, distant and unfamiliar, and he dismissed it. He was simply glad for the luxury of her company, that’s all.

“The motorcycle is new,” she began after her sister said the blessing. “I didn’t know you rode.”

“Since high school, but I sold my Honda after I enlisted.” He tried not to look at her. Maybe it would make the unaccustomed feelings within him fade instead of live. “Last year I realized I missed riding, so I got another bike. I figured why not?”

Small talk. That’s what this was. It was uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn’t have stayed, he thought, as he took his first bite of pizza. The taste of spicy sauce, cheese, dough and pepperoni ought to overpower everything he was feeling, but it didn’t come close. He cared about her. He hadn’t planned on it, but his feelings were there just the same. The threads knotted up inside him tightened; he didn’t dare look at those hidden feelings.

“I had forgotten.” She set her pizza on her plate. The tiniest bite had been taken from the end of the slice. “You, Tim and his brother, Pierce, had dirt bikes when you were kids.”

“My mom didn’t like the idea of me speeding around on the back of a motorized bike, as I was prone to getting hurt on the regular two-wheeled variety, but I didn’t relent and she finally gave in. Tim, Pierce and me, we rode far and wide. I think at one point we knew every trail and old forgotten logging road in two national forests.”

“It sounds similar to how we grew up, right, Chessie?” September glanced across the table at her sister, and her look said, Play nice.

He appreciated that. The table was a small round one, and that meant there wasn’t much room between him and either lady. He could feel icy dislike radiating off September’s sister like vapor off dry ice. The only thing worse was the awareness of September, how she was close, how he wanted her to be closer. He wanted to comfort her. Even he could see that she’d hit a rough patch.

“Instead of dirt bikes, we had horses.” When she spoke of times past, the shadows in her eyes softened. The corners of her mouth upturned with a hint of a smile.

“Those had to be good times,” he found himself saying, as if to urge her on. As if he wanted to hear more.

“They were. We had the sweetest little mare to learn on. Clyde was twenty-two years old. Our dad was worried about us getting hurt—we were in grade school—so he would only let us get a very old and even-tempered horse.”

“Sounds like he was a good dad.”

“The best.” Dad was the reason she’d grown up living her childhood dream. He and Mom had sacrificed a lot so she could have Comanche. “He wanted us to live our dreams and he did all he could to help us work for them. Right, Chessie?”

She looked to her sister, maybe to include her in the conversation and also for an unspoken need for sisterly support. He had the distinct feeling she was uncomfortable with him. She kept avoiding direct eye contact. Maybe dropping by hadn’t been his smartest idea ever.

“Dad is stellar. They don’t make men like him anymore.” The older, sterner sister’s tone implied that Hawk fell short. Very short.

“There are plenty of good men,” September said gently. “Chessie and I were fortunate enough to take riding lessons. When we were older, we both worked in the barn to earn board for our show horses. We were suburb girls, but Mom drove us the twenty-three-mile trip each way twice a day. Sometimes more.”

“Sounds like a good mom.” His mom had suffered from depression after his dad’s passing, which was why he’d practically grown up with the neighboring Granger boys. He would have explained it all to September, but that would mean bringing up a past she shouldn’t have to deal with. Instead, he kept it simple and in the moment. “She obviously loved you both.”

“And we love her. After the divorce, she remarried and moved to San Francisco. We don’t see her like we used to, but she’s happy.” Longing weighed down her voice. Clearly she was close to her mother.

“My dad died when I was in third grade.” The words were out before he could draw them back. Once said, they couldn’t be unspoken. So much for his decision not to mention the past. He shrugged a shoulder, as if that past couldn’t hurt him anymore. “She never got over it.”

“Sometimes a woman doesn’t.” The shadows in her beautiful eyes deepened, like twilight falling.

The human heart was a fragile thing, capable of great, indestructible love and yet able to infinitely break. He bit into his second slice of pizza, crunching on a few green peppers, thinking. He didn’t believe in coincidence; he’d seen it too many times in the heat of battle and had felt God’s swift hand. He had to consider that reuniting with September was God at work. Maybe she needed a little help. Maybe he was being given a mission to be that help.

“I always thought it was a great loss that Mom never learned to live or to love again.” He kept out his experiences of growing up underneath that dark, hopeless cloud. When his father had died in a logging accident, it was as if he had lost both parents. Understandably, his mother was never the same. But she had never been a mother again. He’d grown up a lonely kid, taking care of his younger sister and finding belonging and acceptance in the neighboring Grangers’ house. “I don’t think Dad would have wanted her to be alone like she is. He would have wanted her to be happy.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“We were on the topic. My mom would never have driven me anywhere once, let alone twice, every day of the week.” His tone was indifferent, as if his past was something he’d learned to deal with long ago. “Sounds like you have an awfully nice mom.”

“We do,” Chessie answered, regarding Hawk with a narrow, terse look, which she reserved for possible swindlers and fraudulent door-to-door salesman. “What I don’t get is why you’re here. Sure, you were on the search-and-rescue team the base sent out. I get that. But you could have let this go.”

“Perhaps I should have.” He straightened his shoulders, sitting ramrod in the chair, looking as tough as nails and nobler than any man ever.

“Can’t you see this is causing September more pain?” Chessie pushed away from the table and stood, protective older sister and something more. Her distrust was showing. “She shouldn’t be reminded of—”

“Stop, Francesca.” Her stomach tied up in knots and she took a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m glad Hawk is here. Please don’t chase him off.”

“I’m going to the grocery store, then.” Chessie didn’t look happy with her chin set and her mouth clamped into a firm line. “I won’t be long. Hawk, I’m guessing you won’t be here when I get back. Thank you for finding my sister. And for the pizza.”

“Not a problem.” He was the kind of man who showed respect, even to a woman being rude to him.

She had to admire him a little more for that. Hawk was a very good man. She simply had to think that and nothing else—the past, Tim or what could have been. She waited until the door had closed behind her sister before she turned back to him. “She’s overprotective. I’m sorry.”

“She loves her sister. Who can blame her for that?”

At his kindness, the tightness within her chest coiled tighter, cutting off her air. It made no sense why his kindness troubled her more.

“Is it true?” His voice dipped low and comforting. “Is it better for you if I go?”

This was her chance for safety. He was offering her away out. She could say yes, walk him to the door, thank him for his thoughtfulness and never see him again. The past could remain buried, where it couldn’t harm her.

But she had learned to survive. She had become good enough at it to fool everyone else and some days herself. Not today, but some days. Possibly, right now, she could cope instead of simply survive. “No, Hawk. I’m glad you’re here. Remember I told you I had wanted to look you up?”

“Sure.” He grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table and swiped his mouth and rubbed his hands, looking busy, as if the act was what held his attention, although she could feel his interest, sharp and focused.

“You’re here, and this is my chance. I need closure.” She thought of the prayers she had given up on and of her need for God’s comfort that she had been too lost to feel. Maybe having Hawk here would help as much as anything could. “I’m stronger now than I was after Tim’s funeral. Could you tell me what happened to him? Could you tell me how he died? You were there.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this?” His hand covered hers, and everything within her stilled.

“Yes.” It wasn’t the whole truth. She was afraid that it would be better to stay in the dark, to leave the last moments of Tim’s life a mystery. She didn’t want to hurt again, yet how could she let this chance slip by? Finally she could lay to rest the broken shards of the questions that had troubled her. With the answers, maybe she could have closure.

“I want to know, even if it’s difficult.” She set her shoulders, braced for the truth. “I know you had been shot, too.”

“Caught a ricochet. Nothing serious.”

“Can you tell me what he said?”

He didn’t answer right away. Moments ticked by and the heater clicked on, breezing warm air across her ankles and teasing the curtains at the window. Hawk sat like a seasoned warrior, his face set, his shadows deepening and his truth unmistakable. He was a man who fought for others and who protected them. He looked every inch of it.

She leaned forward, pulse fluttering, both dreading what he would say and hungering for it.

Chapter Four

“He didn’t have a pulse when I got to him.” Hawk sounded distant, as if that was the only way he could cope with the memory.

“He was already gone?”

“His brother was closer to him and got there first. He started CPR. The machine guns, the grenades, the shouting, it all faded to silence. Everything went slow motion. I pulled a corpsman over to help because he wasn’t coming fast enough.”

“You fought for Tim’s life.” She read the emotion twisting his face and saw what he could not say. This loss had been a turning point in his life, too. “You fought with everything you had.”

“We all did.” He swallowed hard, the tendons in his neck working with effort. It had to be torture remembering.

She was sorry to put him through that. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. “At least he didn’t suffer. That’s what I had to know. That he wasn’t afraid.”

“Tim? Never. We got him back for a minute or so, but the bullet caused too much damage.” He reached across the distance separating them, both physical and emotional, to take her hand.

His touch alarmed her. Her spirit flickered and warmed, like dawn’s first light. She withdrew her hand, and the brightness dimmed. She sat as if in shadow.

“He gave Pierce a message for his family,” he went on as if nothing had happened. “That was all the time he had. He died in his brother’s arms and in a circle of friends. The last thoughts he had were of you.”

“How do you know?”

“His last breath was your name. Didn’t you know?”

She shook her head. She wanted to stay unaffected, to gather the information logically and heal from it. Impossible. Tim’s life had ended—all that he would be, all that he would do wiped away. That’s what she wanted to change. “If God could give me one wish, I would go back in time and have forced Tim to get out. I would never have let him serve a second hitch in the army. He wouldn’t have been sent overseas. He wouldn’t have died.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t torture yourself with that guilt.”

“How do you know?” She stared at him in amazement, this big, capable man more wise than she had given him credit for.

“I know how you feel,” he confessed. “I did everything I could. Everything I knew how. I couldn’t save him, either.”

Everything within her stilled. Their gazes collided and the force of it left her paralyzed. The honest sincerity of his gaze held a power she had never felt before, one strong enough to chip at the frozen tundra of her shielded heart. “How do you go on?”

“I struggled for a long time.” Honesty softened the planes of his rugged face and revealed more of his character. One of strength and deep feeling. “I almost opted out and thought about finding a civilian job.”

“You were soul-searching, too.”

“Not that I want to admit it to anyone.” He squared his shoulders. “I had to question what one life is worth, and what cost? I had a hole in my life as a reminder. I had to figure that Tim would want me to make good choices for me, so I turned down my uncle’s offer to find me a job and signed for another two years.”

“That was your idea of a good choice? Going back into danger?”

“I want to make a difference.”

“There are a lot of ways to do that without risking your life.”

“Are you questioning my decision?” Not defensive, but curious. He looked as if he wanted to take hold of her hand again.

She kept them tightly folded together. “I’m just asking, that’s all.”

“My sister is happily working in San Diego. She doesn’t need me. My mom is safe and living her life the way she wants to in Wyoming. They are the only family I have, and neither of them really needs me. I’m not married. I don’t have any strong calling to do charity work or anything like that. The military is what I believe in. Being a soldier was the only thing I ever wanted to be.”

“Why?” It was Tim’s decision she was asking about, not Hawk’s. But she had to know why Hawk had chosen to be a Ranger. “Why do you guys feel so committed to the army?”

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