A Soldier for Christmas (14 page)

And it was impossible. She was in someone else’s living room, with the cold November night pressing in around her and she was alone.

Always, endlessly, alone with a dream that could not possibly come true.

Dear Mitch,

I haven’t heard from you since last week when you called. I’m keeping you and your friend Luke in my prayers. And sending warm thoughts your way. The first snow of the season fell today—late for Bozeman—but no one is complaining. Here’s a list of good things in my day.

One-dollar movie night at the Garland. We watched
Pride and Prejudice
and ate a vat of fake buttered popcorn. (Lexie says hi.)

Sadly, that was the only good thing in my day.

Sending my very best wishes, Kelly

My Dear Kelly,

What do you mean you only had one good thing in your day? Maybe you should add the bad things, too, because I’m not getting an accurate picture here.

Good things in my day: Word is that Luke is gonna pull through. I’m back from stealthing around, but we’re going right out on another mission. We had recognizable chow today—at least, we
think
it was chicken.

Sending my prayers, Mitch

Dear Mitch,

I’m so glad for your friend.

The best thing about today was that I recognized everything I ate.

The worst thing about today was that a call came in from the county jail, which Lexie rejected (I wasn’t home at the time).

Wherever you are, I hope you’re safe and, if not warm, then not too cold.

Keeping you in prayer, Kelly

Dearest Kelly,

I’m sorry about your mom. If I don’t get back in time, Happy Thanksgiving. Eat some pie for me.

Always, Mitch

Over the next week, a certain theme had started to emerge in her morning devotional and it was really starting to annoy her. Kelly wished she could take the passage to heart.

This was not helping her stay realistic with her expectations in life.

In the morning quiet of her apartment, she rubbed the pad of her forefinger over the text in her devotional. That is
so
not my life, she thought.

She had to prepare herself for the inevitable, Mitch moving away. And maybe this was it? She’d had no word from him, nothing. The logical side of her brain said that he was busy, that was the nature of his work, to be away from his base camp for days, or for more than a week at a time.

But the totally non-rational side of her knew that good-byes were inevitable. She was not going to give in to the temptation to believe otherwise. With a thump, she closed the devotional and set it aside. She concentrated on her second cup of coffee on this leisurely holiday morning.

She had the apartment to herself. Lexie had driven home to have Thanksgiving with her parents, and the bookstore was closed today, of course. It was a rare thing to have nothing to do and nowhere to go for an entire morning. She intended to enjoy it while she could.

The trouble was that loneliness seemed to creep into the corners of the apartment like the cold air from outside. Why did her mind automatically switch to thoughts of Mitch? Of the warm, cozy rumble of his baritone, of the comforting brush of his heart against hers when she talked about her past, and of the way his chuckle, so kind and good-natured, chased away the shadows.

She was letting a wish for Mitch’s love and a happy life with him take root in her soul. That was wrong, wrong, wrong. The realization sent fear zinging through her veins. What was she going to do about that? It was simple. Don’t think about him. Don’t go there. That was the only solution.

She took another sip of her coffee. Where did her thoughts go? To the devotional open on the table in front of her—no, of course not. Her thoughts were thousands of miles away with Mitch, wondering if he’d gotten the rumored turkey for his Thanksgiving Day dinner.

You absolutely have to stop thinking about him, Kelly. She sighed, frustrated at herself. This man was already too far into her heart for safety’s sake.

Maybe she’d just get online and send him a happy holidays wish. Then she’d be able to get her mind off him, right? It was worth a try.

While her laptop dialed in, she poured another cup of coffee. But the memory of their last talk remained. How close he’d felt, how carefully he’d listened, how he’d somehow made the past less painful, the shadows less dark. That made no sense whatsoever.

An electronic beep from her laptop interrupted her thoughts. She brought her cup with her to the table, attention on the screen, her pulse skipping, because what if that was Mitch?

There, on the instant message screen, was an electronic note from Mitchell Dalton.

Kelly

Happy Thanksgiving. And thanks. That was some care package you sent.

Mitch

Happiness filled her up and buoyed her spirit. She dropped into her chair, already typing.

Mitch

You got it? Great. I thought it might have been sent to Mars by mistake.

Kelly

Kelly

I think I saw Mars stamped on the package. I had to beat off the rest of the guys. Apparently candy corns are a great hit with Force Recon marines. Second only to the candy made in the shape of garbage cans.

Mitch

Mitch

I personally love the bottle-cap ones. Lexie went with me, and we hit every candy counter around the university. I hope you don’t get too sugar-buzzed. Katherine contributed the candy canes and the tin of chocolate sugar crunch cookies.

Kelly

Kelly

Thank her for me, would you? I’m vibrating from eating all the candy corns. Apparently I didn’t learn my lesson when I was six. Hey, are you gonna be home for a while?

Mitch

Mitch

I’m here for a few more hours. I’m not needed at the church’s kitchen until ten-thirty.

Kelly

Kelly

Then log off and I’ll give you a buzz. Deal?

Mitch

Deal. She hit Send and signed off. She was way too happy that he was calling her. But did she try to hold back her heart? No. She didn’t have time to try, because the phone rang and she snatched it up before it could ring twice. “Mitch?”

“It’s me.” Yep, he was hooked, Mitch thought, the instant he heard her voice. He felt every inch of the distance that separated them as he leaned back in the metal chair. “Why the church kitchen? Most folks just want to take it easy, not have to work on Thanksgiving.”

“I started the year Joe died, when there was an announcement in the church newsletter asking for volunteers. It sounded better than spending the day with Joe’s family or alone with wishes of what could have been. I liked it, actually, so I’ve done it ever since.”

He wasn’t surprised. Classic Kelly, he thought, kindness and sincerity and the greater good. That was just another reason why he was falling in love with her. “Your mom hasn’t called again?”

“No, thank goodness. I expect she’ll try.” Her voice went thin. “I try not to think of her, except when I have to. Did you get a nice dinner?”

“We had meat that was supposed to be the rumored turkey. When we slathered it with the pasty gravy, who could tell? It might have been turkey. I’m happy enough with that. You’re a long way away. Tell me what you’ve been up to. What haven’t you put in your e-mails?”

“Like with school?”

“Yeah, school, work, social life.”

“What social life? Finals are coming up, so I have a close personal relationship with my textbooks. I’m seeing them exclusively.”

“Ah. Still not dating, huh?”

She sounded choked. “You like to get right to the point, don’t you? I’ve given up on dating forever.”

“There’s some poor man somewhere who is probably pretty broken up to hear that.”

“I don’t think so. In fact, I’m pretty sure there isn’t. There can’t be.”

A spear of sorrow arrowed through him, it was her pain, he realized, and his pain for her. “Why not?”

“It’s not meant to be. You said your friend Luke was doing better?”

“Yeah.” He understood why she’d changed the subject. He’d gotten too close. He’d noticed that pattern before. She wanted to keep him at a friendly distance, where she felt safe.

Well, fine, but he was going to push that, if not now, then later, because she would always be safe with him.

But he was coming home in about three weeks’ time. He had to know where she stood. The last thing he wanted between them was regret.

“Luke’s still recovering. He got hurt pretty bad. Are you thinkin’ that I might be next?”

“It crossed my mind.”

“Don’t let it worry you. I won’t be. Besides, just living is risky business.”

“Yeah, but we’re friends. That gives me the prerogative to worry about you.”

“Then I’ll worry about you and we’ll be even.”

“What risky things do I do? Oh, I know. You’re going to say that I drive.”

“Yep, you get in a car every day. That’s risky stuff, too.” He hated the distance between them, the miles that kept him from reaching out to her and pulling her into his arms and holding her until she believed. Until she could see he had no plans to break her heart. “Is that why you aren’t dating? You’re afraid of caring about someone and losing them again?”

“Something like that.” Her voice sounded sturdy, strong.

But he could feel the waver of emotion; he could feel how vulnerable she was. “The package you sent, it meant a lot.”

“Good, because I wanted it to. You helped me when I really needed it.” Her tone was friendly, but her heart betrayed her.

At least, he wanted to think it was her heart he felt, even half a world away. “Are you talking about the little bit of help I gave you on quadratic equations?”

“It made the difference between an A and a B. I know that doesn’t sound like very much, but it does to me. I have a four-point grade average, and I’d like it to stay that way, since I’m looking at graduate school next year.”

No, this was more than a thank-you. He looked down at the good-sized cardboard box stuffed with candy. Candy shaped like garbage cans, like pop-bottle tops, fruit and people. There was taffy and bubble gum and jawbreakers in every color, gummy bears and gummy worms and long red ropes of still soft and still mealy licorice.

And not only candy, but animal cookies and cheese snacks and gum and the latest military suspense he’d been wanting, cupcakes and Twinkies and packages of beef jerky. At the bottom of the box was an MSU T-shirt, extra-large. She’d sent books of word jumbles and crossword puzzles and a travel-sized chess set.

Not an ordinary care package. He knew, because his mom sent them all the time. Shoeboxes stuffed with homemade brownies, not boxes full of all kinds of stuff that took time and thought to put together. Kelly might say they were friends, but her actions and the emotion in her words said more.

Good to know, since he was walking without cover. Heaven knew he was feeling out of his depth. He was a Force Recon marine, he knew how to be patient, when to wait and when to take a step forward. “You want to go to graduate school there in Bozeman, or are you looking to go somewhere else?”

“I’d like to stay here. I have to be accepted to the program first.”

“You will. I believe in you, Kelly.”

What on earth could she say to that? Kelly squeezed her eyes shut. Did he have to say those words as if with all the tenderness in his big heart? He made her feel like a new, twinkling star; he also stirred up pain. Like a powerful river’s current, scudding along the bottom of the river bed, scraping up raw places and exposing them, the places within her that longed to love again.

But Mitch was right. It hurt too much to let someone in—especially him. What she had to do was stop this, before she’d taken another step on a path leading to where she didn’t want to go. How could she let him into her heart any farther? It already hurt too much.

“Mitch, I don’t think—” She bit her lips, torn apart by pain. By fear. “I value our
friendship,
but—” That’s all I can do, she thought.

“I value you pretty highly, too.”

The certainty in his voice frightened her as much as the tenderness in his words. It was a tenderness she could feel as if his emotions were coming right through the long-distance line, too, and into her heart.

I could love him so much.
If
things were different. If I were different.

How did she tell him that?

There was a rustle, as if he’d dropped the phone, and in the background it sounded like men were shouting. “I gotta go.” It was all he said before he hung up, leaving her with an empty line.

What had happened? Was he okay? She tried to banish all the images of war she’d seen on televised news reports and told herself maybe it was a high wind, knocking out the phone connection. It didn’t mean something horrible had happened.

She tasted fear as she hung up the phone. Her fingers trembled as she pulled the cup of lukewarm coffee into her hands. Fear for him double-beat through her veins and into her soul.

Please, keep him safe, Lord.
It was the only thing she could do for him, so she prayed.

She could not stop the sick cold dread that had followed her all through her day and crept into her like the night’s chill. Shivering from the bitter winds and covered with snow, Kelly gratefully turned the deadbolt on her apartment door behind her. The roads had been terribly icy, but she’d made it home safely in one piece.

Her day had been a busy one, but Mitch had stayed in the forefront of her thoughts, where he was still as she shrugged off her coat and hung it over the back of a chair to dry.

She pulled her cell from the pocket. No calls. She knew it hadn’t rung, but she had to check anyway. It was another sign that she already cared dangerously too much for this man.

As she turned up the thermostat, she noticed the time. Eight fifty-three. No way was she going to be able to wind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Her mind was spinning with all the horrible possibilities she wouldn’t quite let herself imagine—and her stomach was one nauseated knot, as it had been all day.

I’m afraid for him. She couldn’t deny it. She’d sent so many prayers skyward, surely every angel in heaven had heard them by now. She dropped her stuff on the floor and sank onto the edge of the couch. What was she going to do? She ached with regret. With all the ways she would never be able to care for this man.