A Soldier's Prayer--A Fresh-Start Family Romance

by Jenna Mindel

  Armed with the gas-powered chain saw, which did seem a little puny when he thought about it, Cash walked down the drive. He could feel Monica’s gaze burning holes in his back, but he wasn’t about to turn around or argue. He’d assess the situation and report back.

  It didn’t take long to find the tree. Lightning had splintered the huge trunk, but Cash believed it was the wind that had brought the bulky maple down. He looked at the chain saw in his hand and snorted. Even though Monica was probably right, he’d give it a try. Thinking about that embrace only added more resolve. He had to make an attempt.

  Taking off the blade cover, he pulled the start cord, adjusted the choke and pulled again. The saw whirred to life.

  He stepped forward, kicking himself for wearing his pajamas instead of changing into jeans. If the blade kicked back there was little to protect him.

  Monica was right again.

  He growled and tipped the blade, cutting into the trunk at an angle. It didn’t take him long to realize this wasn’t going to work. After the blade got stuck for a second time and stalled, he pulled it free and considered the situation.

  He could clear a way around the base of the maple, but tossed that idea aside, as it would involve felling other trees that were too big for the puny chain saw. He’d cut down a couple small trees in his day, but he was by no means an expert. His brother had been, and he’d been killed by a tree that had turned on him.

  Cash blew out his breath. Monica was not only right, but she was stuck. Here. With him.

  And the boys. Thankfully.

  They had plenty of food, and the side-by-sides if an emergency arose. He grabbed his phone from one of his pajama bottom pockets and called his sister-in-law.

  “Hi, Cash.” She yawned.

  Realizing it was still pretty early, he apologized. “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “No, no. I’m up and just making coffee. Are the boys okay?”

  “They’re fine and still sleeping. Listen, we got hit pretty hard with the storm that rolled through, and there’s a huge maple down, blocking the driveway to the cabin. Can you get some of your guys on it? It’s too big for me to cut with the chain saw that’s here.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but it won’t be for a few days. Cole’s foreman just called to say they’ve received tons of requests already.”

  “There’s no driving around it, so you’ll have to park and walk in a good stretch.” Cash expected her along with his mom on Tuesday. Would they still make it?

  “Got it. I’ll see what I can do and call you when I know more.”

  “Thanks, Ruth.” He pocketed the phone and then sheathed the chain saw blade. Slowly, he made his way back to the Zelinsky cabin. And Monica.

  The hug they’d shared burned through him as if he were feeling it all over again. The luscious smell of her hair, the delicate width of her pressed against him... She was tall, sure, but oh so slender.

  What was he going to do with her until the driveway was clear?

  Nothing. He’d keep his distance like always and hope his brother’s tree service crew came quickly.

  * * *

  Monica paced the living room, keeping her eyes fixed on the windows so she could spot Cash when he appeared around the curve in the driveway. She didn’t dare call him, which might distract him while using the chain saw. She wasn’t even sure he had his phone on him.

  It was nearing eight o’clock and the boys still slept. Surely they’d wake up soon. She hoped they would. At least the boys drew the focus away from the two of them.

  Finally, she spotted Cash walking toward the house, chain saw in hand and a deep frown pulling down his shapely lips. She knew he couldn’t cut through that thick trunk.

  He set the chain saw on the deck and stepped inside. “You want the good or bad news first?”

  A cold sliver of dread pierced her. “Does it matter?”

  He chuckled. “No, I suppose not. The good news is that I called my sister-in-law and she’ll send a team from their tree service out to clear away that maple.”

  Monica scrunched her nose. “And the bad?”

  “It might take a few days for them to get here. Their area got hit, too, so they’re already knee-deep in cleanup work.”

  Monica’s heart froze. “A few days? I need to be home before Thursday.”

  His gaze narrowed. “What’s going on Thursday?”

  “I have a meeting I can’t miss.” She looked away. How on earth was she going to keep quiet about her cancer diagnosis for the next few days?

  “What time?”

  “What does that matter?”

  “What time is your meeting?” he pressed.

  “Afternoon, but still, I don’t want to be strolling home that morning. I have to prepare and, well, it’s in Petoskey—a good half-hour drive or more even in end-of-summer traffic.”

  “Ruth misses her boys, so I’m sure she’ll get the guys here in time.”

  Monica nodded, hoping he was right. After taking a deep breath, she blew it back out. She needed something to keep her busy, and physical labor was a good enough cure for being antsy. “Might as well start clearing the grounds around here.”

  Cash smiled as he took in her sparkly T-shirt and Levi’s. “You might want to change into something you can get dirty.”

  “These are old, so it’s fine. Shouldn’t you put on some jeans?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, probably should. I’ll be right out.”

  She swung her thumb toward the boys’ room. “Should we wake them?”

  Cash shook his head. “Let them sleep. They’ll find us outside soon enough.”

  Monica fished in the downstairs closet for a pair of work boots and changed out of her tennis shoes. The boots were roomy, so she grabbed another pair of socks before stepping outside.

  Once in the yard, she breathed in the cool morning air. The sun shone from a cloudless blue sky. It was as if yesterday’s storm hadn’t even happened. Until she looked around.

  Branches, leaves and downed limbs littered her uncle’s property. A scraggly pine had been blown down, just missing the pole barn. Trudging to the barn, she opened the door and fetched a wheelbarrow, loppers and work gloves. She and Cash had their work cut out for them, but it would keep them busy until the driveway was clear.

  She got started picking up the smaller stuff, filling the wheelbarrow a couple times while wondering what was taking Cash so long. She had her answer when he stepped out the sliding glass door with his nephews in tow. Owen munched on a piece of toast.

  “Monica, put them to work while I get the chain saw.”

  “Let’s get you boys some work gloves.” She waved them over. When they stood before her, she knelt and touched each boy’s shoulder. “Listen close. You need to stay away from your uncle while he’s using the chain saw.”

  Owen nodded.

  “We know. Our dad taught us what to do. We used to help him gather wood, too, you know.” Ethan puffed up his chest.

  “Okay, good.” Monica’s heart twisted as she handed each boy gloves that were a little big.

  She’d been here only a couple days, but she loved these two little boys. How quickly they’d sneaked into her heart, and being stuck here would only make it harder to say goodbye. She might not get the chance to duck out like she’d tried this morning. Who knew when or if she’d ever see any of them again? More heavy thoughts to drag her down.

  “Alright then, let’s tackle this mess.” Monica forced a smile, glad the boys didn’t complain.

  All of them spent a good part of the morning clearing branches. Cash cut the fallen pine into logs that he stacked next to the barn. They would work well in the firepit. The top of the pine he dragged into the tall grass beyond the backyard, but not too close to the woods. Cash had promised the boys that they’d burn the pile when they were done.

>   Monica stretched and her stomach growled. It wasn’t quite time for lunch, but she wanted something. Scooping up their empty water bottles littering the firepit area, she figured they needed a break. “Anyone hungry for a snack?”

  “I am!” Ethan raced for the deck.

  Owen followed, tripped and fell in the grass, then got back up. No tears and nothing hurt.

  Monica looked for Cash, shading her eyes from the bright sunlight. The day was growing warmer by the hour and sweat trickled down her back.

  Inside the cabin, the air still felt cool from the night before. She spotted Cash, chain saw in hand, making quick work of another large branch that had fallen from a maple in the front yard. The back of his T-shirt showed a damp line of sweat and his muscles flexed as he worked. The jeans he’d put on had smudges of mud and chain saw grease along his backside. He looked at ease even while working hard.

  When he turned off the saw and wiped at his brow, she stepped out onto the front deck and hollered, “Cash, we’re taking a break. Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.” He gave her a crooked grin that knocked her for a loop.

  The butterflies in her belly threatened to overtake the hunger pangs. So sharp was the sensation of longing for a life with Cash that she grabbed her midsection as if to quiet all the rumblings there.

  She hurried into the kitchen. Pulling lunch meat and cheese from the fridge, she went about the task of making sandwiches, but looked up when Cash entered the cabin.

  He headed straight for the kitchen sink to wash his hands, passing by her. He smelled like the outdoors and sweat and the two-cycle engine fuel mixture from the chain saw.

  Monica did her best to ignore the heady scent of him. Ignore his presence behind her at the sink. She handed Ethan and Owen, both seated at the island, paper plates with half a turkey sandwich and potato chips on each. “If you want more, I’ll make it.”

  “Yes, please.” Ethan sank his teeth into his sandwich.

  “You haven’t finished that one yet.” Cash leaned against her to grab a handful of chips from the bag she held.

  The warmth of him standing so close made her shiver.

  “You can’t be cold.” His deep voice held a challenge.

  “No.” Far from it, but she’d never admit to what he did to her. What he’d always done. Clearing her throat, she managed to ask in a normal sounding voice, “What do you want on your sandwich? There’s turkey, salami or ham.”

  “Salami and ham, please. I think there’s sub rolls in there, too.”

  Monica looked at him. “So you want a sub?”

  He grinned and grabbed another handful of chips. “Please. With lettuce, tomato and onion and Italian dressing. And provolone.”

  “Anything else?” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

  He looked completely unrepentant. “That ought to do it, but if I think of something else, I’ll let you know.”

  She pushed him out of her way and reached in the fridge to fetch the rolls and other ingredients needed. When she returned to the island counter, thankfully, Cash was gone.

  He had moved into the living room, switching on the TV to the station that broadcast round-the-clock weather. “It’s supposed to stay warm the next couple of days. Why don’t we take the side-by-sides out to that waterfall near Munising?”

  “Yeah!!!” Ethan cheered.

  Owen grinned with a milk mustache.

  “What if there are trees down along the route?” They could use the rugged trail opposite the driveway that ran north, the one they’d returned on yesterday.

  Cash stretched out on the couch. “I’ll take the chain saw with us. Worst case, we turn around and come back.”

  “Okay, sure, let’s go,” Monica agreed.

  Anything was better than being cooped up on such a lovely day, and they needed a break from clearing the yard. And Monica needed a break from Cash. In the side-by-sides, they’d pretty much be apart for the rest of the afternoon.

  * * *

  Well, that didn’t work out the way he’d planned. Cash stood next to the side-by-side, staring at another large tree that blocked their path to the waterfall. It was too large for the chain saw, which he’d wrapped in a heavy plastic bag and strapped into the back storage space.

  So much for getting away from the cabin and Monica’s feminine presence. She was a constant reminder of how nice it was having her around. Whether she made him a sandwich or shared coffee with him, she wrapped him in a sense of home that he liked far too much.

  He rubbed his neck and then headed back to Monica and Owen. Bracing his arms against the roll bar of their utility vehicle, he explained the situation. “There’s no getting through this way. We can take that smaller path we passed and see where it goes.”

  “I think we should head back. I’m cold and—” she gestured toward Owen “—I think he is, too.”

  “Got it.” They’d hit several puddles on the way. Their jeans and shoes were all soaked, except for Monica’s dry toes in her rubber boots. The warmth of midday was fleeting, as early evening crept upon them with a promise of a beautiful sunset.

  “You lead.” Monica nodded.

  He grinned. “Always.”

  She grinned back.

  Cash didn’t know how he’d stay away from her when every inch of him wanted to hold her again. If he had those crayons handy, he’d cover a sheet of paper in softer colors ranging from blue to purplish pink. If only longing were as simple as the hues on a color chart.

  For once, he drove slowly. He was in no hurry to return the cabin and face the temptation of holding Monica. The whole way back to the cabin, he inched along. Even through the mud puddles, he didn’t floor it, but Ethan didn’t seem to mind. He looked chilled, as well, and Cash was pretty sure neither boy would balk at the idea of a hot bath. Cash wouldn’t either. His body ached from using the chain saw.

  When they finally reached the cabin, the sun hung low in the sky. Parking the side-by-sides in the pole barn, they all moved a little slower than normal.

  “I need a hot shower.” Monica rubbed her bare arms.

  None of them had bothered to put on the jackets they’d packed for the ride.

  “Go ahead. I’ll get the boys in the tub.” Cash kicked off his wet tennis shoes at the back door, instructing his nephews to do the same.

  Owen’s teeth chattered.

  “Come on, young’uns. Time to get clean and get warm.” He looked at Monica. “We’re going to drop these clothes in the washer, so if you don’t mind...”

  “Oh, sure thing.” She dashed up the stairs.

  He noticed that her socks were still white and dry. Why hadn’t he thought to bring rain boots for the boys? “Okay, peel off everything and head for the bathroom,” he told them.

  Cash drew a bath, making sure the water wasn’t too hot. He added some bubble bath and handed his nephews each a washcloth when they climbed in. “Scrub behind your ears.”

  He left the door open a crack and then went into his room and slipped into a different T-shirt and a pair of sweats. He’d shower after. Gathering up his dirty clothes along with the boys’, he dumped the pile into the washer in the laundry room. Adding soap, he turned the knob for a heavy-duty wash and clicked start.

  In the living room, he built a fire in the woodstove to chase away the chill. Late August nights grew nippy in the UP, announcing that fall was on their heels. Winter would soon follow and this part of the state saw its fair share of snow.

  Part of him missed Michigan, with its distinct seasons. Growing up in the northwest “Tip of the Mitt,” he’d looked forward to snow. He liked to ski, loved to snowmobile and as he recalled, he’d enjoyed quite a few snowball fights in his day. He’d even thrown his share of packed white stuff at Monica. She’d retaliate with a thrown snowball or punch to his arm. He remembered that she had a pretty good right hook, too.
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  Hearing footsteps, he looked up to see Monica descending the loft stairs. Her long blond hair was wet, her face scrubbed clean, and she wore a white, long-sleeved T-shirt over soft gray sweats that made her legs look a mile long. He sucked in a breath of air as if a fist had punched his midsection.

  She made straight for the woodstove and held out her hands to it. “The fire feels nice, thanks. Are the boys still in the tub?”

  Cash chuckled at the sound of splashing coming from the bathroom. “Ah, yeah. I better check on them.”

  “I’ll get dinner started if you want to shower upstairs.”

  He cocked his head. “I can skip it and help with dinner.”

  She made a face and fanned her nose. “You should rethink that.”

  “That bad?” He was used to going without a shower for days while deployed or in training exercises. Not a big deal.

  “Well.” Monica scrunched her nose. “Uh, yeah.”

  He laughed and walked toward the bathroom, grabbed a towel and snapped it in the air. “Okay, boys, outta that tub and into warm pajamas. My turn to shower.”

  He helped them dry off, but then his nephews squealed and ran bare-bottomed into their room, laughing the whole way.

  Cash couldn’t believe the tub water was so dirty that, once drained, it left behind a filthy ring. He’d have to clean this place pretty good before his mom and sister-in-law arrived.

  By the time he jumped out of the shower, the smell of something really good reached his nostrils, causing his stomach to rumble. He changed quickly and met Monica near the stove.

  Peeking over her shoulder, he breathed in sautéed chicken with peppers and onions. “Smells amazing.”

  “It’s going to be fajitas.” She elbowed him out of the way and fetched a can of refried beans from the pantry.

  “When did you learn to cook?”

  She gave him a look as if he’d asked the silliest question on Earth. “I’ve always cooked. All of us kids learned how.”

  “What can I do?”

  She shook her head. “Stay out of my way.”