A Soldier for Christmas (5 page)

At the back of his mind, he knew. He had a life, he had a calling, and he had eighteen months left on his contract. So how was this going to work?

“The lady who owns this shop is a good friend of the family—well, of Joe’s family.” Her voice broke on the sound of Joe’s name. “She takes antique gems and resets them in the most beautiful jewelry you’ve ever seen. I don’t know if you’d be interested in something like that for your mom, but Holly’s work is so beautiful, it’s like giving a little piece of love.”

Okay, that was the word he was trying to avoid.

“Do you want to go in and look? Or I have other suggestions. We can just go down the block and there’s—”

“No, let’s start here.” It felt like a definite step on an unknown path in the dark, when there was no light to see by. But he wasn’t bothered by the dark.

When he opened the door, he wanted to take her by the hand. But he figured she wasn’t ready for that. She breezed past him with a rustle of her cotton dress and the tap of her shoes, and he caught again the scent of vanilla and sweetness.

Impossibly, his heart tightened even more.

K
elly couldn’t help leaning closer against the display case to study the brooch Mitch had taken out of its velvet bed. It was an elegant piece of lacy gold with a baguette-cut ruby looking outrageously fragile against Mitch’s broad, callused palm.

Stop looking at the man’s hand, Kelly told herself. She was supposed to be concentrating on the beautiful pieces of jewelry, right? Not noticing the deep creases in Mitch’s palm. Or how capable his fingers looked. The nicks and cuts and scars marred his sun-browned skin. Such powerful hands he had, just like the rest of him.

She
so
remembered the peace his touch had brought her, when he’d helped her from the Jeep.

“What do you think?” His hazel eyes met hers, and in those green and gold depths she saw glimpses of his big heart. He cared about the people in his life—and he cared about her opinion for some reason.

He’s just too perfect. If he wasn’t, then she wouldn’t feel this turmoil seizing her up. Hard lessons learned ought to be enough to make her step away and stay firmly on the path she believed in. The path where God had placed her over and over again.

Mitch waited for her answer, the delicate and expensive brooch resting rock-steady on his palm.

Don’t just stand there, Kelly. Say something. Her gaze shot to the other box he’d chosen from among the many in the display cases. Which one did she like better? The dainty necklace shimmered in the sunlight, the delicate swoop of wings and halo around a thumb-nail-sized fresh-water pearl made her heart stop. “It’s a pearl. What can I say?”

“You like pearls?”

She supposed he was looking for a woman’s opinion on jewelry. “I think your mom might like the ruby better, though.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Which question? Her mind wandered. No matter how hard she tried to stop the caring from creeping into her heart, she couldn’t. She liked Mitch Dalton. She liked him very much.

As a friend. She couldn’t dare think of him as anything else.

“Why pearls?” He studied her, waiting.

Oh, right. Pay attention, Kelly. “Pearls are so simple and unassuming. Everyone knows that a pearl starts with a tiny grain of sand, but to me, it’s like faith. We are like that grain of sand and it’s God’s grace that can cloak us and make us shine, if we are humble and faithful enough. In the end, it’s a thing of true beauty.”

“Yes, it certainly is.”

He wasn’t looking at the pearl. But at her. Somehow his gaze deepened and there he went, somehow feeling too intimate, as if he could see too much. But how could he look past the layers of defense in which she cloaked herself so carefully?

The pieces of her heart stung like salt in a fresh wound, and she felt so vulnerable and wide open. It was Mitch. He made her feel like this. So wouldn’t the smartest thing be to head for the door and never look back?

It would be the safest.

“I’ll take the ruby,” Mitch told Holly, behind the counter. “But could you put the other on hold? I’d like to think about it. Christmas will be here before you know it.”

“Sure.” Holly gladly set the pearl angel aside and took Mitch’s credit card with her over to the cash register.

They were done. Kelly let out a deep breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. This was how worked up she was. But now Mitch had found his gift, and he’d be heading back to his base.

I’ll be back on safe ground.

She probably wouldn’t see him again. She didn’t want to see him again, right? It wasn’t as if she was looking for a man to love—not anymore. Not ever again. It didn’t make any sense.

“Mission accomplished.” The way he leaned both forearms on the counter, coming in close to her, made her want to hope—past the ache where no hope lived.

How impossible was it to start hoping? And for what? That kind of hope, that kind of dream, was not meant for her. She thought of what had happened with Joe, and it felt as if the shadows within her lengthened. No, this was her path and she would not step one foot off it.

She cleared the thick emotion from her throat. Somehow she managed some resemblance of a normal smile. “Your mom should love the brooch. I bet she’d love anything as long as it was from you.”

“Well, she’s biased, being my mom. But you, pretty lady, you saved my bacon.”

“Me? I just pointed you in the right direction.” Why did her heart flutter in her chest? Maybe it was simply the remnants of that old crush. Maybe. She couldn’t let it be anything else.

“I did nothing. You would have done fine by yourself, but I’m glad I could help. I wish your mother a very happy birthday. And you a safe journey back to the base tonight.”

She took a step in retreat.

“What? You’re leaving me? Just like that?”

“You were the one who said mission accomplished.”

“Well, maybe there’s another mission scheduled after this one.”

“Holly gift wraps, so you’re good to go.” She took another backward step to the door. “Bye, Mitch.”

“Wait.” As if he was going to let her escape. She was wrong, his mission wasn’t close to being completed. Mitch scribbled his signature on the slip the shop owner slid toward him. “Kelly, don’t run off on me.”

“I’ve got to study.”

“Flimsy excuse.” Done, he dropped the pen but Kelly was already heaving open the old-fashioned wood-frame door. The cowbell over the door clanked as she tried to evade him.

Emotion struck him hard in the chest, and he remembered the fear he’d seen in her eyes. “Ma’am, could you wrap this for me? I’ll be back.”

He hardly registered the owner’s agreement; he was already out the door and into the blinding burn of daylight. He turned toward Kelly instinctively, as if he could feel the tug of her spirit against his.

She’d gained some distance on him, he had to give her that. She speed-walked in those purple sandals as efficiently as if they were cross-trainers. The hem of her pretty dress swirled around her slender knees, and her long honey-blond hair swung with her gait, like lustrous liquid gold.

Yeah, she was in definite retreat. What had scared her? He puzzled over that as he bounded after her, cutting around a couple holding hands. She had that strict no-dating outlook on things. Was she bolting because he’d gotten too close? What he needed to know was what had happened with Joe. Otherwise, she was going to run off and he’d never see her again.

Maybe that was as it should be. Maybe it would be best just to let her go. His chest tightened. The tenderness and confused emotions inside him tangled up into an unbreakable knot.

What he did was dangerous. There was no denying it. He’d learned the value of making sure to start each day without regrets. To leave nothing unfinished.

If he let her go, he’d regret it. No doubt about that.

So he continued after her. He could have closed his eyes and found her by heart and by the cadence of her gait. In the reflection of a coffee-shop window he could see her profile, her soft mouth downturned, her chin set with determination. Then her slim shoulders tensed more as if she, too, sensed him behind her. She kept going.

There was a clue, but did he get the hint? No. He kept going. “Kelly? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t do anything.” She spun with a swirl of cotton, stark pain clouding her eyes. “I really do have to study.”

“Yeah, but you’re running scared, I think. And I want to know why.” He towered over her like a bear. “Do I scare you?”

She swiped at a shock of blond hair that fell across her eyes, tucking it delicately behind her ear. He knew she was biding time, trying to think of the right answer—one that was still the truth but not the whole truth, either. She wanted to hold that back, the real reason she was afraid. Maybe because it was too personal or too painful.

But if he wanted to have a chance of seeing her again, then he had to know. He folded his arms over his chest and waited.

She stared long and hard down at the crack in the sidewalk between them. “I know you said you wouldn’t mind having a friend, but this doesn’t feel like friendship. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. But there’s something—”

He knew exactly what she meant. It should be a relief that she felt this, too. It wasn’t one-sided. But the tangled mess of emotions in his chest clamped tight enough to make him wince. “You know what we can do? Let’s find a place to sit down, have lunch and figure this out.”

“Figure what out? I don’t want to figure anything out.”

“Running away from this isn’t going to make it go away. Or keep it from happening the next time we get together.”

“The next time?”

“See? That’s something else we can talk about. There’s a taco place right behind you. How about it?”

“No way am I going to let you turn this into a date, Mr. Dalton.” Her words were kind, but strangled. He could see the sadness in her honest blue eyes.

He definitely had to know what had hurt her so much. What had that Joe McKaslin done to her? He thought of all the things that went wrong in the world, in relationships, between two people, that caused that much hurt. Hated to think of her exposed to anything like that. “Why? Why can’t you date me?”

“I told you right up front. I have a no-dating policy—”

“And I’m asking why. What happened to you?”

“Life. Just like it happens to everyone else.” She lifted her chin, as if determined to hold back her secrets and onto what she felt was private. “Surely you’ve seen enough of life to know what I’m talking about.”

“I have.” He pushed aside too many images of the world he’d seen up close. Images so far removed from the safe streets of this little college town and luxury unimagined in some of the places he’d been. But young or old, rich or poor, Christian or not, here or in some desperate country, life happened, and there was no stopping the pain that came right along with the living. “This has to do with Joe.”

She took a step back, then another, as if wanting distance. “He’s at the Mountain View Cemetery. He’s buried there.”

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.” Kelly’s chest clogged tight, as if she were buried under a mountain of snow instead of the pieces of her broken dreams.

She left him standing there, in the middle of the sunswept sidewalk, with life teeming all around him. Students from campus were pacing the sidewalks now that the shops were open. People fresh from church were looking for a place to have lunch and discuss the service. Young mothers pushing strollers and young married couples holding hands, their backpacks heavy on their shoulders as they sought out places to sip coffee and study.

Life swirled all around him, and yet he seemed darker than the shadows.

Kelly felt the same shadows in her soul, and she kept on going, woodenly forcing one foot in front of the other until she’d reached the end of the block. When she turned the corner, he was out of her sight.

But, strangely, not out of her heart. She could feel him there, like the shadows.

And the light.

Okay, that wasn’t the answer I expected, Mitch thought, still troubled hours later as he helped clear the dishes from the table. He hadn’t forgotten the look in Kelly’s eyes—not one of grieving as would be expected—but of hopelessness.

He heard the waltzing rhythm of his mom’s gait in the kitchen behind him. As he gathered up a stack of dinner plates, he tried to put his thoughts aside. His mother could probably sense that he was thinking about a woman, possibly daughter-in-law material. “Don’t even think about asking.”

“Why? What was I going to ask?” Barbara Dalton paused in the archway and planted a hand on her hip, but the gleam in her eye clearly said, “Fine, I’ll just ask later.” “Come out onto the deck. Your father is setting up the ice cream maker.”

“This’ll only take a minute.” Like he was going to leave the dishes for his mom to do. “Go help Dad. Go on.”

“Who do you think you are, giving orders?” She hefted the stack out of his hands—she was stronger than she looked. “You might be part of an elite force, Sergeant, but in this house you’re still my boy and you’ll do as I say.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He liked it when she pulled rank. He loaded up another pile of serving bowls and joined her in the kitchen, where she was stacking the plates in the dishwasher.

“I love my brooch, Mitch.” She beamed as she worked. “Wherever did you find it?”

“A little shop near the university.”

“You did good.” She studied at him as he went in search of the plastic containers she stored leftovers in. “So, is she a nice girl?”

“What makes you think there is one?”

“Mother’s intuition.”

“Either way, that’s filed under the topic of not-your-business.”

“Well, I had to try.” Mom went back to loading the dishwasher. “I am praying for you to find someone. I would so love a daughter-in-law to spoil.”

“I’m still not going to discuss it.” He dug a spatula out of a nearby drawer. “Do you remember Joe McKaslin?”

“He went to high school with you, didn’t he?” She rinsed flatware beneath the faucet before plunking them into the basket on the bottom rack. “There was something about him in the local paper years ago. He passed away fighting forest fires.”

Wow. No wonder he’d felt Kelly’s sadness so powerfully.

“So sad, to lose someone that young,” his mom went on. “I worry about you every day. You’re the reason behind all this gray hair.”

“It looks stunning on you, and you shouldn’t worry. I can take care of myself.” He dropped the container of leftovers in the fridge. “There. Done. What next?”

“Go take those bowls out to your father.” She nodded toward the counter. “He should be about ready to dish up.”

“Then leave the dishes, Mom. I’ll do them later.”

“You’ll do no such thing. Now go, before I get out my switch.”

He laughed at the joke between them, a threat she’d been using for as long as he could remember and a promise she’d never made good on. He grabbed the bowls and headed to the deck where his dad was fiddling with the lid of the ice cream maker.

Beside him his sister, Suz, a corporate lawyer in Seattle, was out of her area of expertise. “I don’t know, Dad. You’ll have to ask Mom.”