by Jillian Hart
“At least you aren’t the last person on your block to get a tree,” he quipped, leaning a little closer. “When I get back from Wyoming, how about I help you plant it?”
“I’m pretty good with a shovel, but not so much with this cast, so I accept your offer.” She couldn’t help leaning into him in return.
Careful, September, she told herself, or you will start to depend on him. And then the next thing you know, you will start needing him with every fiber of your being.
“Look at the stars. It’s a perfect night to see them, clear from horizon to horizon.” Hawk gazed upward like a man comfortable with watching the heavens. She remembered that knowing how to use the stars as reference points was part of his job requirements. He turned to her, not the heavens. “It sure is beautiful tonight.”
He could not be talking about her, although it felt as if he were. His caring opened her up, and she was as vulnerable as an exposed nerve. Open and tingling, overwhelmed by the emotions she could not hold back.
It is the stars, she told herself, and not this moment. Not Hawk. Not new wishes rising from the winter of the old. She simply hadn’t stood out beneath the skies on a December night like this, feeling all the shades of starlight. The black sky had never looked so rich, like the perfect hue of ebony. The platinum sprinkle of stars scattered across the zenith. If she watched long enough, absorbing the brightness, she could see hints of color—of yellow, red, blue.
The kiss of the moonlight spilled from a nearly full moon, casting a shimmering path through the nearby forest and onto the blacktopped street. She felt every beauty of the mountains ragged against the sky. The beauty of the night scraped against her raw senses, blissfully welcome. She remembered the girl she used to be, who believed in dreams and happily ever afters.
That girl might be worse for the wear, but she was still here, still alive, that the essential, truest part of her had not perished. She had survived the loss of a true, deep love. And while loving wasn’t something she would ever risk again, she was thankful to be here beneath the magnificent sky and to have an understanding friend like Hawk. His endless kindness, his sense of humor and every good thing he had done for her made it impossible not to care about him in return. But what could come of that?
Nothing more than this moment beneath the stars. Hawk was a Ranger, as Tim had been. She could not believe her heart would ever be truly whole again. And even if by the grace of God that miracle did happen, then she would never fall for a soldier. No, not ever again.
She eased away from him, breaking their connection, shattering the moment. The stars went on burning bright anyway, and so did Hawk’s friendship for her.
“I’d best get on my way and leave you to your evening.” He opened his door, but his voice was no longer casual, his tone no longer easygoing. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” she mumbled, stumbling up the walk. She did not wait to wave him away from her porch step. Instead, she hurried inside to close the door on what she had seen in his star-blue eyes—honest and unmistakable love for her.
Chapter Eleven
“We were lucky she’s a fast healer,” Patty Toppins said as she accepted a cup of tea and sat down on one of the chairs facing Colleen’s desk. “She’s already complaining about being stuck in the house, so I thought a little outing might perk her up.”
“Good idea. I’ve been keeping her in my prayers, Patty.” September swiveled the office chair around to face the happy mom. “You have to be incredibly relieved. I can’t imagine how terrified you must have been.”
“I’m better now that she’s up and around. For a while there, I feared the worst. It doesn’t help with the well-meaning doctors letting you know everything that can go wrong. I was a nervous wreck, but God has been watching over my girl.”
“Proof prayer makes a difference.” Colleen slipped into her desk chair. “The rest of the mountain is still closed. The inspection company believes there are no more covered-over mine shafts, but I’m having a second company come in just to be sure. It’s not worth risking anyone’s life.”
“I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for all you two have done. Colleen, covering the hospital bills like that, and you, September. I hate to think what would have happened if Crystal had been down there alone. I’ll never be able to thank you for taking such good care of her in a bad situation, although I’m sorry you got injured, too.”
“I only wish I could have done more.” She took a sip of hot tea, wondering how events worked out the way they had. Maybe Hawk’s arrival into her life hadn’t been a coincidence. God was present in her life, and He had brought them together. Why? She might argue that Hawk needed her friendship as much as she needed his, but after what she’d glimpsed last night, she was pretty sure he felt more than friendship for her.
After more well-wishes, Patty left to check on her daughter, who was spending time saying hello to her beloved mare. Colleen made a call, talking seriously to the feed suppliers about price changes on their upcoming order. September signed out of the computer, one eye on the clock. Three minutes to three. Panic zinged through her veins at the thought of seeing him again.
Should she call Hawk and cancel? Pretend she hadn’t noticed what looked like love in his eyes? Hope there was some other explanation for it? These questions had kept her up much of the night and plagued her all the day through. She felt torn, not knowing what to do.
She felt his presence before she saw him loping up the front steps. He gave an impressive appearance in a heather-gray army sweatshirt, jeans and combat boots and with the wind ruffling his short, dark hair. His incredible baby blues blazed a welcome as he pulled open the door. Casual, easygoing, friendly as always Hawk. Definitely not the same look as last night.
Whew. Talk about relief. She would have stood up, but her knees wouldn’t work. Tension rolled through her, a sign she had been more worried than she’d realized. It must have been a trick of the moonlight, she decided. Everything looked more romantic and fanciful beneath starry skies.
“Hey, there.” He ambled over to her desk. “Sergeant Hawkins reporting for duty.”
“Duty?” She turned off the monitor and grabbed her purse. Funny how her knees were still quaky. “I thought we were going to the mall.”
“Think of the traffic.”
“True.” She shuddered remembering the long lines to get in and out. She pushed out of the chair. Her knees felt tricky, but they held her weight. Odd. “This time of year, the place is packed.”
“I’m a Ranger, remember?”
“As if I could forget.”
“I go where all men fear to tread.” He held the door for her.
Macho. She shook her head, waved goodbye to Colleen, who was still busy on the phone, and walked past him through the door. She definitely had been star-struck last night to think Mark Hawkins would fall in love with her, or with anyone. Look at him, tough as iron, undaunted and mission-focused. Hadn’t he admitted last night that he had troubles letting others close?
Maybe the problem was with her, she thought. It troubled her through the drive to the freeway and the perilous ride on I-5. Hawk drove like a NASCAR racer, fast, sure and steady, competently zipping between cars, changing lanes. When the traffic slowed to a crawl near the mall, he made one final switch and she could catch her breath.
“You don’t like my driving?” Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t going more than a few miles an hour over the speed limit. Gotta keep up with traffic.”
“Let’s just say I would rather be on a horse. I would love to drive to the store in a horse-drawn wagon.”
“It would take a whole lot longer.”
“Sure, but your truck is just a machine.”
“Hey, it’s a very nice machine.” His dimples deepened, far too attractive for the man’s good.
He could stop the earth with those dimples. She shook her head, hoping to dislodge the effects of his smile. What had they been talking about? Her b
rain seemed to have turned to fog for some inexplicable reason. Oh yes—horses versus vehicles. “I didn’t say your truck wasn’t nice, just that it was a machine.”
Even as the sound of the words hit her ears, she blushed. Great. Now she wasn’t making any sense. She sounded like an idiot. What was wrong with her today?
Lack of sleep, she decided stubbornly. “Your truck doesn’t miss you when you’re gone. It doesn’t snuggle with you and make you laugh. It’s not your best friend. It can’t love you.”
“No, but I do love it.” Trouble, that’s what he was, and he knew it. “My truck doesn’t kick me, doesn’t decide to roll over in a mud puddle with me and it always does what I tell it to.”
“You’re using my funny stories against me.” She laughed. How could she not? The man was definitely trouble of the best kind. “So you are saying convenience and control are more important than relationships.”
“Do you think I’m going to say yes to that?” He kept one eye on the creeping traffic. “That is an ambush waiting to happen. I’m not about to step into that argument.”
“Then that is what you think?” She could tease, too.
“If we are talking about cars, yes. I liked riding with you the other day, I won’t say that wasn’t one of the best days in recent times, but it would take hours to get to the mall if we decided to ride the horses.”
“And you are an impatient man?”
“I can be as patient as Job if I need to be.” She had no idea that was what he was determined to be. He would wait for her if it took all the days of his life. “But I’m not a fan of shopping.”
“I could have guessed that. Hence, the mission talk. We get in, get out, objective accomplished.”
“And no man left behind.” He winked to make her laugh again, and to hide the deeper meaning, the one he could not let her guess. He would wait forever for her, he would never leave her behind. Doing his best to ignore the ever-expanding depth of his tenderness for her, he turned up an aisle of parking. “Keep a sharp eye out. Phase one in progress.”
“Phase one?”
“Secure parking, then proceed to the mall.”
“Phase one might take longer than the actual shopping mission.” She had no idea how adorable she looked, leaning back in the seat, her hair tumbling everywhere, wearing boot-cut jeans and a Save the Whales T-shirt. “There isn’t a spot anywhere.”
“And a lot of competition looking.” He wheeled around the end of an aisle and drove straight down the far lot. “We have an advantage.”
“Oh, sure we do.” She laughed at that, a musical trill that he wanted to hear forever. She twisted to get a look up the jammed aisles. “I suppose you are the advantage?”
“I was talking about being in a truck, which puts us up high so we have a better view, but sure. If you want to think of me as an advantage, I won’t argue.”
“You, an advantage? If I had a snowball, I would throw it at you.”
“I don’t think that would teach me a lesson. It would only encourage me.”
“You’re an incorrigible kind of guy?”
“I try to be.” He caught a set of taillights flashing to life way down the row and he wheeled into the aisle. “Looks like we’ve got a live one.”
“Could you have found a spot farther away from the mall?” Adorable how she was teasing him. You could even call it bantering. And bantering implied a certain emotional intimacy, didn’t it?
A good sign, he decided as he idled in the row. The sedan inched out of the spot, the driver peering out carefully and her view probably impeded by the enormous pile of shopping bags in the backseat, and motored off. Other cars lined up, some of them oncoming, trying to beat him to the punch. He charged into the spot, beating the competition. Victory.
September shook her head as if she couldn’t believe him. “I am putting that on my faults list.”
“Why? What did I do?” He cut the engine and helped her with her seat belt. “I got us a spot, that’s what.”
“You are a barracuda, dude. I’m keeping my eye on you.”
“I was here first.” He could banter, too. “I didn’t cut anyone off. I didn’t try to steal the spot like that sports car guy. And yet you are objecting to my methods?”
“Not objecting. Just keeping watch. I think there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to you.”
“You have no idea.” More than meets the eye? That was the truth.
He hopped down, circled around the truck, pleased to find her waiting for him. She was an independent lady, but she was letting him be her gentleman. In time, she would want more from him. He felt it all the way to his soul. He loved her. More than there were stars in the universe. Truer than there were words to say.
He hated the moment her boots touched the ground, because she let go of him.
It wouldn’t always be like this. He stayed at her side as they made the trek through the parking lot, laughing all the way.
Spending time with Hawk melted her resistance. What she thought she might have seen on his face last night was forgotten. Being with Hawk in the mall was not what she expected. He was like a big kid pointing out the mall decorations lining the walkways and stopping to look in all the store displays. They’d admired endless numbers of Christmas trees, mangers, Nutcracker scenes, piles of beautifully wrapped gifts and hand-painted windows.
“This ought to add to our Christmas cheer.” Hawk sauntered over from a coffee kiosk with two reindeer-decorated paper cups in hand. “I got an eggnog latte and a peppermint mocha. Your choice.”
“There’s no contest. Peppermint mocha.”
“Then this is yours.”
He handed her the cup with a manly flourish, and if her knees went weak again, she refused to notice. She neatly avoided contact with his fingers—just in case the strange knee reaction happened again—and took a sip of the steaming drink.
“Whipped cream. You know how to celebrate, Hawk.”
“That’s something I’m proud of.” He joined her at the store window.
“I think that goes on the list, too.”
“Not the list!” He pretended to smack the heel of his hand against his forehead. “If you keep this up, you’re going to know my every shortcoming.”
“True, but if you’re lucky I won’t hold them against you.”
“Good, because I would like to stick around for a while instead of getting kicked to the curb.”
No woman in her right mind would give Hawk the boot. No, certainly not judging by many appreciative looks she’d noticed other women giving him as they cruised the mall’s corridors. In fact, there was another one from a woman leaving the bookstore. September sympathized. It was very hard not to notice a man who exuded honor instead of conceit, kindness instead of brashness. He studied the colorful children’s books paraded up and down a stairway display. Covers of many beloved classics brought back memories.
“My dad used to read to us.” He must have been feeling the same way. “He was a logger, but I think if he could have afforded college he would have been a great literature professor. Every weekend afternoon he could manage, he would be in his chair with a classic open in hand. As far back as I can remember, he would read me to sleep. He would start the Christmas stories on the first of December, my birthday. It was our tradition. Our favorite was How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”
“One of my faves, too.” It had to be the memories spearing sharp and sweetly. Overwhelmed by the intensity, she wanted to step away, put distance between them and tuck old memories back in the safe compartment she had stored them in. Surely Hawk wasn’t having this effect on her emotions. “Chessie would always do the out-loud reading. She insisted. To this day, The Night Before Christmas does not sound right to me unless my sister is reading it.”
“After my dad died, Christmas sort of fizzled in my house. Mom stopped baking and cooking. There was no Christmas candy. Liz and I had to make our own holiday. Of course, living next door to the Grangers helped.”
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“Tim’s family.” It didn’t hurt to talk about them now. She meandered over to the wide breezeway where rows of books beckoned. “Tell me about your Christmases with them.”
“Two Christmas trees in the house. Garland everywhere. The Grangers hang twinkle lights like you do, except on every available surface. The house smells like fresh-cut pine, baking bread and molasses cookies. Christmas music is constantly playing. Then there is the old upright piano. Everyone gathers around it on Christmas Eve and we sing until it’s time to head off to the candlelight service.”
“You’ve become part of the family.”
“I needed one and they were there.”
She thought of Hawk as a little boy, devastated by loss and a broken home. Her eyes burned for him. Caring spiraled within her, growing with every turn, affection she could not control. “I’m glad you have them.”
“Me, too. I’m lucky they put up with me. They could take objection and put me out on the street.”
“Very tempting, I’m sure.”
“Hey!”
She loved how he could make her smile, how he could touch her deeply. She felt as hopeful as the stars twinkling from the overhead skylights. A mom ambled by with two small children in tow. Shopping bags crinkled, the baby clapped her hands and shouted, and the brown-haired boys toddled by, talking excitedly about Santa Claus. Want ribboned through her. She tore her gaze away and studied a book display without seeing it.
“I think I’m going to look for a home design book Chessie wants. I haven’t gotten all of her gifts yet.” She didn’t know why she felt maudlin. Being alone was what she wanted. It was safer. She never wanted to go through the wreckage of loss again. Safer was better, even if it meant no children to fuss over and adore. Even if it meant no wonderful husband with Hawk’s sense of humor and stalwart gentleness.
“Great. I’m going to need something to read for my flight.” He browsed the bestsellers and chose a paperback to browse through.
She sidled over to the hardcover bestseller rack and spotted the book her sister had been salivating for. She grabbed a copy, but when she looked at the cover it was the wrong book. How had she done that?