A Soldier for Keeps

by Jillian Hart

  His eyes were luminous as they searched hers, seeing more than anyone ever had. She kept her heart open, more vulnerable than she had ever been, changed by her love for this man. Her fear faded as his thumb traced her bottom lip with a feather-soft question.

  One her heart answered. He must have heard because he leaned closer and closer still, in no hurry, savoring the moment as his mouth hovered over hers. The sunset glow seemed to blind her as his lips found hers, the sweetest warm brush of a kiss, and then another so tender, tears burned behind her eyes. She wanted forever with this man.

  She clung to his shirt, awed by his love, and when he stepped away, the intimacy did not stop. His gaze fastened on hers with a greater impact than any touch, any word, any vow. In that silence, she felt him touch her heart as easily as the last of the sunlight touched her face. Love infused the air, unmistakable and true, an impossible prayer answered.

  She thought she saw a great sadness shadowed in his eyes the instant before he tore away, but how could that be? Maybe it was only the shadows from the setting sun, still sinking behind the mountains, its slow nightly dance winding down.

  As they drove home in silence, she couldn’t be sure.

  Those kisses. It was the only thing Pierce could think about as he navigated the gravel driveway that snaked along the wood and wire fence posts to the Evanses’s ranch house. Twilight had faded, night had come, and stars cluttered the inky sky like dreams he could not give in to. Those kisses shouldn’t have happened. Nope, not at all.

  Where had his self-discipline gone? Where was his resolve? He knew who he was, but when he was with Lexie, he wanted to be someone else. A man who could be all that she needed, all she deserved.

  But he’d signed a contract promising to serve his country for another four years. He was in, all in, and there was no going back. It was nonnegotiable. And even if it were, being a Ranger was integral to him. It was everything he believed in. How could he turn his back on his calling? Worse, how could he turn his back on Lexie?

  No, he couldn’t do that. Their kiss had changed him. He’d been living on cloud nine, carried away by the happiness of the day and the dream of her. Walking away from the grandstand, he never should have taken her hand. He never should have given in to the swell of love and devotion and, worse, he absolutely never should have kissed her. Because in that kiss was the hope for more than he could possibly deliver. His life wasn’t his own. That was the sacrifice of service. Any minute his phone could ring and he would be back on base, reporting for duty regardless of what he wanted or what Lexie needed.

  She deserved to have everything. His love for her doubled when he looked at her. He killed the headlights and pulled to a stop in the driveway. As he cut the engine, he popped open the door so she couldn’t turn to him and draw him in with her soulful blue eyes. His feet hit the ground, and as he circled around the truck, he gathered up his resolve. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him. It was like a tractor beam to his heart. So what if he wanted to kiss her? He wasn’t going to do it. He was going to do the right thing, say good-night and goodbye to her because there was no way on God’s green earth this could work.

  It was time to get real. He whipped open her door, drew himself up to full height and faced the fire.

  “Thanks for such a wonderful day.” Her hand caught his and she slid lightly to the ground. There was enough illumination from the floodlight above the garage and the star shine to see her joy. She glowed from the inside out, radiating a beauty that hooked him harder and at a deeper level.

  How was he ever going to be able to let her go? He shut the door with force, and it ricocheted through the still yard like a gunshot.

  “I had a good time, too.” It was only the truth; it was less than he wanted to say. “It more than makes up for the afternoon of skiing you cost me.”

  “That’s right. I never made that up to you.” She fell in line with him as they headed up the walk to the front door. “Maybe you will have some leave coming next winter and you can visit. I’ll treat you to a day of skiing.”

  “That’s an offer I can’t refuse—” He paused in mid-stride. “But I have to.”

  “You’ll probably be on a tour of duty.” She stopped beside him with the sweep of dark lawn and star-studded sky framing her. “Right, I understand. Then I’ll take a rain check. No biggie.”

  Something had changed for her, too. She sparkled like stardust, quietly, lovely, but it was there all the same. Their kiss stood between them, and he couldn’t take it back. He wished more than anything that kiss hadn’t happened. She felt this, too, this closeness he could no longer deny. He had to fight it. He had to do the right thing. He took her hand in his.

  Best to nip this in the bud before she got hurt, because he was already there. The idea of never seeing her again was like the stars going out and the sun never rising again. He was a tough man and he’d faced a lot of difficulties, but nothing could top having to break this off.

  “No.” He hardened his heart, gathering up his armor. “I can’t do a rain check, either.”

  “You don’t plan on coming back to the States for a long time?” Confusion etched her lovely face. “You never said if you were going overseas. It must be for a very long deployment.”

  “No, I’m talking about us, Lexie. Our friendship.” There, he’d gotten that much out without stuttering or changing his mind. So far, so good. He straightened his spine, ready to face the rest of what had to be done. “Don’t get me wrong. This time getting to know you has meant everything to me—”

  “To me, too.” Her hand squeezed his gently, an invitation of the heart.

  One he had to gently decline. It was going to kill him.

  “I’m so glad you could come by.” Affection warmed her words, made the evening beyond compare. “I know you’re leaving in the morning, but we can keep in touch with e-mail. Maybe a phone call now and then.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Careful, he let go of her hand, let go of her. “Tonight with you, kissing you, it’s not what I signed on for.”

  He saw the exact moment when his words dawned. The star shine faded from her like the last light going out. He stood in darkness.

  Chapter Fourteen

  His words echoed within her, and like a quick, breaking blow she felt nothing but shock. Had she been wrong? No, she’d felt his love in their kiss. She’d witnessed it in his touch and in his tenderness. He loved her, but he didn’t want her?

  “I’ve told you that love is one battlefield I intend to stay off.” He seemed like part of the night, like a lost soul at world’s end. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get this far.”

  “Neither did I.” She held herself very still. Maybe if she didn’t breathe and if her heart didn’t beat, then the shock wouldn’t wear off. Maybe she could stay in this numb place, still reeling from his rejection and never feel the crash. “It snuck up on us.”

  “Yes. I sure didn’t plan this. I came to see you because staying away was torture. I thought I could see you, convince myself I was better off without you. I could go on with my life, leave you to go on with yours.” His words rang harsh, but his tone resonated with kindness. That kindness lured her, creeping through her numbness, forcing her to feel.

  “You came to get rid of me?” She knew that wasn’t what he was saying, but it’s what she chose to see. It was easier to see one side instead of both. Her heart would break less if she thought he was cruel rather than knowing it was torturing him, too. No longer numb, pain sideswiped her, knocking her as if to her knees. Air caught like a sob in her throat. It all made sense. The long silences. “You stopped writing to me. I should have known.”

  She should have protected her heart better. She should have listened to that part of her warning her to be wary, to protect herself, to stay distant instead of getting close. That’s what she should have done. Instead, she had fallen for his tender charm and caring gestures, for the sense of rightness that formed between them whenever th
ey were together. She had fallen for the wrong man, when she had known it all along.

  Tears burned behind her eyes and she blinked hard, defying them. Anger simmered in her midsection, anger at him for making her love him endlessly, beyond all reason.

  “I’m no good at this, Lexie.” He sounded hollowed out, as if he were hurting, too. “I told you that. I can’t deny that I was hoping maybe, just maybe. But I’m a realist. I don’t have time for anything else. This is never going to work.”

  “Sure, if you say so.” She retreated backward down the walk, knowing the house was behind her somewhere.

  Hold it together, Lexie, she told herself, swallowing against the stubborn tears balled in her throat. It was only five steps up to the porch. Five steps across the porch to the front door. Ten steps. That’s how long she had to keep the tears out of her eyes and her soul from shattering. Once she let the door click shut and she was safely by herself, she could let the tears come. She could let the devastation fall. But not one moment before.

  She fisted her hands, hardly hearing what Pierce was saying. Something about being gone, how it hadn’t worked before.

  “I can’t see it working out.” He came toward her, moving out of the darkness until he was glossed by star shine, standing tough and self-contained, so strong he didn’t need anyone. Especially her. He kept talking, as if trying to make her see. “We could probably make it work for a while, but you’ve got your program to finish and I’ve got deployments. We’re going to spend more time apart than together. You’ll start dreading a knock at the door or the phone ringing because it could bring bad news.”

  “I know this.” The anger inside of her was building, which wasn’t really anger at all. She took another step back. Eight left to go. A sob caught in her windpipe. “These are just excuses, Pierce. I know, because I went through them, too. I’ve gone through every reason why we should stay apart. Every single one, so I don’t need to hear them from you.”

  “I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want to hurt you.” His baritone dipped with unmistakable affection. “I think it’s best for us to end this now, before we both get our hearts broken.”

  “Speak for yourself,” she croaked out the words, fighting down another sob. “It’s too late.”

  “No, it can’t be. You can’t fall for a man like me.” He sounded certain, as if that were an established fact.

  “What kind of man would that be? The kind who carries an injured woman to safety? Who brings her lunch and text messages during Bach? Who shares his secrets with her? Who makes her feel safe enough to push past every fear and fall in love with him?”

  “What did you say?” He shook his head. Something must be wrong with his hearing. He wasn’t getting something right. “You’ve fallen in love with me?”

  “Not anymore.” Her chin shot up. In the shadows of the porch, she was darkness itself, but her voice revealed everything.

  He heard the held back tears and the stifled sob. He felt the edges of her pain. Head hung, he chastised himself. He never would have said it that way if he’d thought she loved him. She was in love with him? He’d thought he was alone with that particular emotion. That he had been the one falling for her, and it was his heart, his soul, on the line.

  But he’d been wrong. “Lexie, I’m sorry—”

  “Sure you are.” She sounded angry, but he knew she was hurting. He could feel the twist of it in his chest and the bleak darkness of what was now lost. Her chin shot up. “You have all these reasons, and I know they’re good ones. I have them, too. All I know is that I made a mistake. You’ve said what you need to, so just go.”

  “No, I can’t leave you like this.”

  “I’ll be fine. I need you to leave.” She retreated into the shadows. There was the faint rattle of a doorknob, and the night stretched between them, wide and dark and impossible to breach. She had withdrawn her heart, leaving him alone in the shadows. Hinges whispered, her sneakers padded on the hardwood floor.

  This was his last look at her, his last chance to say the right thing, but he didn’t know what it was. Even if she was in love with him, how could it be enough? She had all this, roots, family and friends and goals to pursue. She could have any man she wanted, she was fantastic, gorgeous and deeply good. She deserved to have a man there for her. He wanted with all of his soul to be that man.

  As he backtracked to the truck, his loss hit deep. He was too nail-tough for tears, but they burned in the back of his eyes anyhow. He wrestled them down, stilling his feelings, putting back on his armor. The night wind puffed hot against his face as he opened the truck door. Her scent of lilacs and summer sunshine and sweetness tormented him as he settled behind the wheel.

  Every bit of him longed for her, to have her beside him on that seat. He ached for the sanctuary he’d found in her arms. He yearned for her brightness with all the scarred places in his soul. His love for her beat through him as infinite as the sky, as endless as eternity and he could not make himself turn the key in the ignition. Somehow he had to find his common sense and the strength to drive away.

  He didn’t have it. He sat there, hand on the steering wheel, his forehead on his hand, his pulse hitting like a mace against his ribs, the night sounds surrounding him. Somewhere a coyote howled. A barn owl swooped low over the truck’s windshield, dark wings spread wide.

  I’m a stubborn man, Lord. Please help me do this one thing. Please give me the strength to walk away. He didn’t feel an answer on the breeze ruffling through his hair, but he did look into the future. What did he see? A happy courtship, a nice wedding with Lexie, beautiful in a white floor-length gown, maybe even a year or two of happiness. But what then?

  The image of months on end of e-mails and an occasional phone call, that’s what made him turn the key. The engine roared to life, blasting unnaturally loud in the still night. But there would come a time, he knew, when that contact wasn’t enough. She would need him and he would be half a world away, and then what? Her disappointment would add up, her hurt would mount, and she would fall out of love with him.

  That destroyed him down to the quick. He backed around and nosed the truck down the driveway, refusing to let his gaze drift to the rearview mirror. He needed to see her, he wanted it with his entire being, but he had to keep going. Because if he caught sight of her, just one tiny glance, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk away and he would doom them to disaster, an untenable situation.

  He wheeled the truck around the first bend, the headlights slicing shafts of light along the fence-lined road. Every inch, every foot, every yard he drove took him farther away from her. He wrestled with an unnamed pain. The tangle of emotion in his chest, knotted up all this time, unraveled strand by strand. He needed her. He loved her. His devotion to her was strong enough to withstand everything.

  If only that was enough. He hated the burning lump in his throat and the hurt hammering through him. If pain was weakness leaving the body, then he was surely purging an entire reserve of it tonight. Nothing in his life had hurt so much. Not shrapnel wounds, not a bullet wound, not one single experience in Ranger school when he’d gone without sleep, food, rest or comfort of any kind, and not even losing Tim. Nothing—not one thing—had prepared him for the agony cutting through his soul.

  He’d lost her. Forever. He was supposed to have been protecting himself from this kind of pain, and yet he’d walked right into an ambush. He’d never seen it coming, this love for her that would not end.

  Lights swept around the next bend and into his eyes. He slowed to a crawl and wheeled onto as much of the shoulder as he could drive on, and the other vehicle did the same. He wasn’t surprised to see the oncoming white truck stop next to him.

  He stopped, too. The dashboard lights were enough to see Bill and Julie.

  “Hope you enjoyed the rodeo,” Bill called out. “Noticed you and Lexie left early.”

  “She needed to get home because of the calves.” Their conversation in town seemed a millennium ag
o.

  “Yep, four-thirty in the morning comes around awfully fast,” Bill agreed, as Julie talked right over him.

  “You’re coming to Sunday service with us?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. I’m driving up to attend church with my folks.” He did his best to focus, but he was too torn up. All he wanted was to get as far away as possible. The wound ran deep, as if mortal. “Good night, and thanks again for your hospitality.”

  “It was our pleasure.” Julie beamed. Anyone could see she thought he and Lexie were a couple.

  What he would give if they could be. Armor up, he did his best to deflect his feelings. It wasn’t working. There was a hollow in him where her love used to be.

  “Hope to see you again soon, son.” Bill lifted a hand in farewell, put the truck in gear and rolled forward into the night.

  Alone, Pierce waited on the side of the road, breathing deep, drawing the fresh country air in, willing the pain out. He could stay in the Army, he thought, but change jobs. He could find something that would keep him mostly on his base, it wouldn’t satisfy him quite the same way, but at least he could have a chance with her.

  He leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, confused, coming apart, and yet knowing his job was more than just a job. Did he go back to her and give up his calling in order to keep her? Or did he continue driving alone in the dark?

  A little help, Lord, please. He opened his heart to heaven, craving God’s grace, but he was in too much turmoil to feel an answer. He only knew that he loved her.

  Well, it wasn’t as if he could sit here all night. He lifted his head, feeling wrung out and in pieces. He eased his foot off the brake, letting the truck roll forward. Something flashed in his peripheral vision. The taillights from Bill’s truck glancing across the side view mirror. But it wasn’t the light that caught his attention.