Читать книгу The Soldier's Holiday Vow - Jillian Hart - Страница 32

“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.