by Jillian Hart
She tucked her phone back into her purse, made sure Ali was snug and safe and pulled back out into traffic. It was 9:35 in the morning and already it felt like a very long day.
Chapter Eight
Mike checked his watch. It was exactly eleven hundred. Where was she? The streets were jammed today. Everyone had errands of their own, and he was no exception. He had ditched his to-do list halfway through just to be here as Sarah asked. As his watch ticked off another minute, he scanned the Christmas-tree lot and the carolers standing on the front steps of the church.
Wait a minute, he sure hoped this had nothing to do with church. Sarah had been trying to get him to join before their breakup.
“Dr. Mike!” Ali’s call across the street noise had him turning around. Relief washed over him. From Sarah’s abrupt message, he had thought something was really wrong. But the kid looked great as he ran a half a step ahead of Sarah, dragging her with him.
“You came!” Ali skidded to a stop.
It was the doctor in him that had him checking Ali’s respiration rate—fast, but then he had been running. Studying his color. Noticing the red rimmed eyes. “Sure I came. Are you okay?”
Ali nodded. “’Cuz you’re here.”
Uh-oh. Mike kept his gaze down, fixed firmly on the child so he didn’t have to look at the woman. But her suede boots came into view and he didn’t have to look up to know she was angry with him. He could feel it like the cold in the wind.
“What’s going on?” He had to ask; he had no idea.
“You and Ali are going to pick out a Christmas tree together.” Sarah’s tone was no nonsense and firm, her teacher’s voice. She meant business. “You are going to pick out the biggest tree that will fit in my living room.”
“I am?” That was news to him.
“Yep, like you said.” Ali took his hand and held on so tight.
Mike, braced against it, could feel that need. It was like the surface temperature of the sun. “I never said.”
“You did.” Ali, all sincerity, began looking worried. “Right? You’re gonna stay with me?”
Bull’s-eye. That was like a bullet to the heart. How was he going to say no to that? Now he was beginning to understand why she was mad at him. “Sarah, I never said. I’ll do what he needs, but just so you know—”
“Oh, I know.”
Mad wasn’t the word. Smoldering mad would be a better description. Sarah was quiet even when she was furious. He had better brace himself.
“You, Michael Adam Montgomery, had better watch what you say to him.” Her eyes sparked blue fire. “English is not his first language. He thinks you said you would pick out a Christmas tree with him, and that is exactly what you are going to do. Do you understand, Major?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He was a smart enough man to know when he was licked. And more important was the little boy clinging to him. Sarah was right. Ali’s need was more significant than Mike had figured. He had things to do, but they could wait.
“I understand.”
“And make sure the tree isn’t too tall.” She reached into her tidy shoulder bag and handed him a fold of twenties. “This should be enough—”
“No, I don’t feel right taking your money.”
“I won’t have you buying my tree.”
Ouch. Gone was the hurting woman asking for his forgiveness. Worse, he understood what she meant. They were no longer in love. They were no longer friends. It was best to be clear about that. He took the money, but he didn’t like it. “Do I get to keep the change?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “No. I’ll expect a receipt, too. I don’t trust you.”
He had almost made her smile. “Yes, ma’am. What do you think, Ali? Think we can find the best tree?”
“We can! Know what, Dr. Mike?”
“I’m not your doctor anymore. Maybe you had better start calling me Mike. Just plain Mike.”
“Mike.” Ali gave it a try and grinned. “Do you know what, Mike?”
“I’m afraid to ask what.”
“I’m wearing the shirt.” The kid patted his chest, where his shirt showed through his partially zipped jacket. “It’s like yours.”
“It is.” Beneath his jacket, Mike also wore a gray shirt with U.S. Army printed across the front in bold letters.
“We match like socks.” Ali laughed.
That was one of Sarah’s sayings. Cute, but the truth was, she read too many children’s books. Her life was fairy-tale worlds with puppy-dog endings. He supposed he always resented that, maybe even looked down on it a little. It wasn’t the world he knew existed.
But he had never wanted anything more. He clamped his mouth shut, just in case momentary weakness took him over. He was not going to reminisce. He wasn’t going to long for a long-ago sweetness.
“You have an hour to find a tree.” She pushed up her coat sleeve to check her watch.
“Got it.” He studied her for a moment. “I’ll take Ali to lunch, and then we’ll report home around one o’clock. I’ll get the tree inside for you and be on my way. How does that sound?”
“Fine.” Since there was nothing more to say, Sarah took a step back. “Ali, you have fun with Mike. I’ll see you soon.”
“But you need to come.”
“You and Mike will have a fun time together. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Ali nodded, then shook his head.
She knew what the boy wanted. He needed as much adult security and care as he could get. He needed to know he wasn’t alone in the world, after losing his entire family. He also needed to know that wherever he went or whatever happened, she was going to be waiting for him. “Guess what I want you to do?”
“What?” Curious, Ali leaned close, eyes wide.
“I want you to have the best time ever with Mike.” She knelt down and brushed dark brown hair from his eyes. “You find the best tree. And when you come home, I want you to tell me all about it.”
“Everything?”
“Everything.” She kissed his cheek. “Have fun. I’ll see you at thirteen hundred hours.”
“How many is that?”
“Ask Mike.” It wasn’t easy to stand. Her knees were wobbly. She wanted to believe it was the after effects of her little bout of temper, but she knew better. It was Mike. She wasn’t immune to him. She would never be immune to him. Her heart had a mind of its own, and there was nothing she could do to stop loving him.
So the wisest course was to simply walk away and keep walking.
“I want this one!” Ali tilted his head all the way back to see to the very top of the giant spruce. He flung his arms wide. “It’s really big, Dr. Mike! I mean, Mike.”
What was he going to do with the kid? Mike shook his head. “That looks to be the biggest one in the whole lot. Trouble is, it won’t fit in Sarah’s living room.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He bit his tongue to keep from adding buddy. Whatever happened, this was nothing more than a rescue mission. He had come because the boy had been upset. He was the kind of man who did the right thing. This excursion with Ali was nothing more than a step away from the friends they used to be. He didn’t like it, not one bit, but that was the way life was sometimes. “Let’s look for something a little smaller.”
“Yep.” Ali blew out a breath of air, scrunching up his face, button-cute. The little guy tromped to the next grouping of trees, bright with wonder, as he studied each fir and spruce and pine imagining which would be his perfect Christmas tree.
“Not these two,” Mike pointed out, gesturing toward a pair of the Douglas firs. “Too tall.”
“How about this one?” Ali tugged on a lower branch of a spruce. “It’s almost as tall and it’s real soft. It’s got lots of arms.”
“Branches—” buddy. He bit off the word. “Let’s keep this one in mind and keep looking.”
“Someone else might get it.” A line of worry crinkled his forehead.
“I’ll take care of i
t.” Mike grabbed a sold tag from the kiosk and told the fellow there, “We’re still looking.”
“I get that all the time.” The older man winked. “You and your son take all the time looking you want.”
Your son.
“Thanks.” Not bothering to correct the man, he trailed after the little boy who darted from tree to tree. Protective urges roared to the surface.
What he felt was more than wanting to protect and provide for the boy. It was a soul-deep commitment to Ali’s life.
“Look at this, Mike!” The boy danced with excitement in front of a tall slender tree.
“I s-see.” The word stuck in his throat. He had to get his emotions under control.
“It’s not as good,” Ali decided after serious contemplation. “It’s too short and it’s pointy.”
“It’s a ponderosa pine. Their needles are stiffer.” Clinical, that was the way to handle this. “What else do you see?”
“Hmm.” Ali wandered off, staring up at the tops of the trees. “Is that one too tall?”
“You know it.” Mike winked. “We would have to cut a hole through Sarah’s attic and roof to get that tree to stand upright.”
Ali laughed, a happy, carefree sound. It was a tribute to Sarah and her loving heart that Ali was doing as well as he was. That he could set aside the hardships of his earlier life long enough to dance through a tree lot, imagining twinkle lights and Christmas angels hanging from branches.
What he couldn’t let himself admit was that he missed Sarah and her loving heart, too. He swallowed hard against a lump of emotion rising in his windpipe. Best not to feel that, either. Boy, she had been mad at him. He caught himself smiling as he followed Ali to the far edge of the tree lot. He could still see her standing in front of him, her temper flaring. It was a rare occurrence, but she was never lovelier than when she was putting him in his place.
“Do you still like the first one?” he asked the kid.
“Yep. That’s the bestest.”
“Then let’s buy it, get it loaded and stop for some pizza. What do you think of that plan?”
“It’s a good one ’cuz I’m hungry.” Ali’s grin could tempt a man to want to love and protect the little guy even more.
Another wave of mortification washed over her when she spotted Mike hiking up her walkway hefting an eight-foot fir. She heard Ali fumbling with the knob and had just enough time to grab the bags of unwrapped presents and squirrel them away into the pantry closet before the front door swung wide and in came a clapping Ali.
“Look, Sarah. We got us the tallest one that we didn’t have to cut a hole for.”
That sounded like Mike’s sense of humor. She rescued Clarence, who was looking alarmed, from the back of the couch and cradled him. Branches rustled, Mike’s breathing rasped and then the tree whisked into the house.
“Right here!” Ali hopped up and down in front of the space she had cleared. He sure looked like one happy boy. Judging by the looks of things, he had a good time.
Calling Mike had been the right thing to do. Knowing that made some of the tightness in her stomach ease, but not all of it. She had been so angry with him. She still was, as a matter of fact. Keeping his back to her as he worked the tree into the stand she had left out right in front of the window, acting as if everything was just peachy. It wasn’t. Not even close.
Fortunately for him, the phone rang. Since he and Ali were busy, she carried Clarence with her and caught it on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Sarah, glad I found you in.” It was Olga from the church grief center and her bubbly voice was like spring in full blossom. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get back to you sooner. Everything is crazy here. So much to do! How is Ali?”
“Right now he is running in circles around our Christmas tree. We just put it up.”
“Excellent.” Olga’s laugh was contagious and caring, as if she could just picture how cute that really was.
Sarah had a hard time keeping hold of her anger. Mike had stepped back to survey his work while Ali zipped faster and faster, his sneakers beating a loud rhythm. Clarence apparently had enough of the noise and wanted down, so Sarah let him onto the counter. He flicked his tail, perhaps at Mike’s presence, and leaped onto the top of the refrigerator, one of his favorite spots.
She stepped into the kitchen, so Mike wouldn’t overhear. “He’s a little fragile today, but doing well. He had another tough night.”
“Nightmares, poor boy.” Olga sympathized. She was a woman who understood grief, having lost her husband in the Soviet war in Afghanistan nearly twenty years ago. “Do you want to bring him in this afternoon?”
“I was hoping that we could talk.”
“Absolutely. You name the time and I’ll come over for a visit. That way Ali can stay and play where he’s secure and you and I can have a heart to heart.”
“I would love that, Olga.” She needed guidance on all fronts. Prayer, she knew, would help, and so would Olga’s experience. “I’ll make a pot of tea and some brownies.”
“Oh, brownies. The magic word. You will be sorry when you can’t get rid of me. Or at least until every crumb is gone.”
Sarah laughed, relieved she was not alone. It wasn’t as if she could turn to Mike. “Please come anytime that’s good for you.”
“In an hour or so. You need time to bake. I have a good feeling about our talk. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten you said no to my last singles activity.” Olga also managed the church’s single’s events. “We’re having another session of match-making trivia night this week right before our singles Christmas party. Should I expect you?”
“I’m sorry. That’s the night of our school concert.”
“There’s always next time!” Olga hung up laughing.
A singles party. Sarah hung up, knowing it was going to be hard to get out of going eventually. But the sight of Mike standing in her living room made her reconsider. Since they had left the door wide open, she walked over to quietly close it. Somehow she was going to have to get used to the idea of dating again. Someday.
“Sarah!” Ali, tiring of his laps around the tree, stopped to drag in a dramatic breath. It was good to see him so happy and active. “The lights, please. So Mike and me, we can put ’em up. Like outside.”
Uh-oh. Sarah turned to Mike and their gazes connected. Longing jolted through her, unwanted and unbidden. When was this going to stop?
Mike cleared his throat. “Sorry, Ali. I don’t think that’s what Sarah had in mind. This is your first Christmas with her. You two should do the decorating together.”
“It’s my Christmas with you, too.” Confusion crinkled across his forehead. Wide, honest eyes stared up at her. “Sarah, Mike’s gotta stay, right?”
“Mike has his own things to do.” She prayed that she sounded sure and calm and her heart was safely tucked away. “The two of us can put up our new ornaments together. Won’t that be fun?”
“But what about Mike?” Ali looked anxiously to his champion. “He’s gotta stay, too!”
“No, kid. It’s time for me to go.” Mike yanked the boy’s hat off by the ball on top. “But will you do something for me?”
Ali nodded gravely, grabbing on to Mike with both hands.
“You have to take care of Sarah. Make sure she has a good time getting the tree just right.” Mike dropped the hat on the arm of the nearby couch and knelt to help Ali out of his coat. “It’s an important job. Think you can do it for me?”
“N-no. Y-yes.” Ali’s bottom lip trembled. “Don’t leave, Mike. Don’t go.”
“I’ve got to. This isn’t my tree. This isn’t my house.” And you’re not my son. Mike bit back those words and the surprising bitterness with them.
If anyone besides Sarah had started adoption procedures, he would be in there, fighting tooth and nail. He wished he could do that to Sarah, but he couldn’t. He stood instead, doing what was right, doing what had to be done. Excising every last bit of his heart, he strode pa
st her to the door. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t think he had the strength to. Having him around was hurting her as surely as it was hurting him. There was only one thing to do. Ali didn’t really need him. He had everything he needed here with Sarah.
“I’ll call you next week, Ali.” He stopped on the top step. Something held him back. He hated to think it was emotions he had no right feeling. “Tell you what. You can come help me pick out and decorate my tree.”
Instead of being glad at the prospect, Ali’s eyes filled. Why? The little guy stood there, fists clenched at his sides, his mouth in a downturn and tears rolling silently down his cheeks, then he stormed out to this bedroom. Mike felt helpless. He’d thought the boy had loved going to the tree lot.
“You.” Sarah came at him like a four-star general. “That’s twice now you have made him cry, and I won’t have it. You can’t treat him like that.”
“Like what?” He felt as if his chest was being cracked open. “I’m doing what’s right. Are you going to tell me that you want me to stick around?”
“What I want you to do is not to treat him the way you do the rest of us. Making him care. Making him promises. He expects you are going to be here for him, but you’re doing what you always do. You’re keeping him at arm’s length and acting as if you don’t have a clue when it breaks his heart.”
“Whoa, there.” He held up both hands. “That’s not what I do, Sarah. You’re the one adopting him. Not me.”
That stopped her. There were tears in her eyes, too, shimmering and vulnerable. “I can’t say that I want you here. I wanted to pick the tree out with Ali. I want to decorate it with him, just the two of us. But look at him.”
“I see.” Ali had pressed his face to the front window, tears rolling down his face, so little and vulnerable. “I didn’t think he would react like this.”
“Me, either. He’s more attached to you than either of us realized.” Sarah turned away, shaking her head, scattering the fall of her red hair that gleamed like a dream as she went back inside the house to comfort her foster son.
Mike’s throat went scratchy. He didn’t mean to pry, but he couldn’t seem to look away. The picture she made as she went down on both knees to pull the boy into her arms was something he had envisioned more than a few times. Once, when he pictured his future, he had always seen Sarah and their child, just like that.