Blessed Vows (15 page)

He'd had to leave her on their wedding night. That couldn't be a good sign. Not at all. What if she doubted his commitment? The knots in his chest that thinking of her always brought him stretched so tight, he couldn't breathe.

What defense did a man have against the power a woman could have on him, and against the strength of love that he could feel for her?

“Hathaway. Focus, man.”

He looked up to see his squad leader snapping his fingers at him.

Not good. They were at the mock LZ, and his team
members were standing, preparing to fast-rope down under simulated hostile fire. He brought his mind to the task ahead, but his heart was heavy. Something was going to go wrong, he could feel it. Very wrong.

 

With Sally's cold hand tucked safely in hers, Rachel held the screen door and helped the girl find her way into the dark house. She hadn't thought to leave a light on, mostly because she'd been so disappointed she hadn't thought too far ahead. She fumbled along the wall for a light switch and didn't find one.

Sally let go in a hurry and her footsteps sounded impatient as she crossed the living room. Faint shadows crept between the blinds to give the furniture shape, enough to navigate around. There was a click and a lamp turned on, illuminating the wariness on Sally's usually cute face. Rachel had the feeling Sally wasn't going to be cute tonight.

She's lost a mother and had to move away from everything she knew, Rachel reminded herself. Her heart softened for this child who was hers now to nurture. She trusted the Lord to guide her through this, because she was going to need some big-time help. Jake getting married must be a scary change for a little girl who'd already lost her stability. It made sense she would be worried. “Tell you what, you run up and change into your jammies and I'll whip up some cocoa and be up to read to you.”

“It's too hot for cocoa.”

“Okay, how about some chocolate milk? I noticed a carton in the fridge. I'll—”

“No.” Sally glared at her and crossed her hands over her chest, as if preparing for a fight. “I want Uncle Jake to get it for me.”

Uh-oh, this is going to be harder than I thought. Rachel headed to the kitchen anyway. “I'm going to make some for myself.”

Sally's answer was to storm upstairs. Rachel found two blue glasses in a pretty bare cupboard, wondering how to help Sally the most. She was afraid, and Rachel knew something about that. Me, too, kiddo. Love was an act of faith, that was for sure. She poured a cup of milk and sipped it. The comforting chocolate and blessed cold did wonders for her. It was still warm at nine-thirty at night. Florida weather was nice, but it would take some getting used to.

The empty kitchen echoed around her with promises of tomorrow. Things would be better in the morning. Jake would be back, she felt sure, and she'd be frying up breakfast. If there was food to prepare.

A quick inventory of the pantry told her there was a half-used bag of pancake mix, and the prerequisite syrup and jam to go with it. She found half a carton of eggs in the door of the fridge and a half-pound of bacon in the freezer. She set that on a refrigerator shelf to thaw and, satisfied, locked up, turned off the lights
and snatched Sally's overnight bag on the way to the stairs.

No light shone down the short and narrow hallway. She knocked on the first door on her right—no answer. “Sally?” She cracked the door a little and saw the faint dusting of moonlight sifting through half-slatted blinds.

The silver glow fell on a mattress on the floor, made up with fresh sheets and a blanket and a plump pillow. A man's clothes hung in the open closet and fatigues were neatly folded on the floor. Jake's things? No, that didn't make any sense. Maybe the mattress was for guests. It would be handy if one of her sisters could come down to stay. And those were extra clothes of Jake's. That's all.

“Sally?” She went in search of the girl's room and stopped outside the next room. A faint glow that crept beneath the door told her a television was on. She knocked and turned the knob. “Sally? I've brought your bag.”

The only answer was friendly electronic music beeping and bopping from the TV. Rachel pushed the door open enough to see a child's video game flashing on the screen. Sally sat crossed-legged on her bed, still in her cute turquoise shorts set, not at all ready for bed. And with the way she stared intently at her game, working the controls with concentration, she wasn't interested in bedtime just yet.

Okay, she's testing me. This was normal, typical kid
behavior. After all, the two of them didn't really know one another. Sally didn't know that it was okay to trust her, and that already Rachel loved her so much. With patience, she'd figure it out. “Bedtime. Let's get out your pajamas.”

“I'm not tired.” Sally didn't move her eyes from the screen. She spoke more like a robot than the sweet kid she was in Jake's care.

Rachel unzipped the bag and tossed the pink jammies onto the bed. “Suit up, and we'll settle down to read.”

“No.” Sally gave the pretty garments a shove off the bed and then went right back to her game. “I don't have to do what you say. You're not my mom. You're not even my real aunt. Uncle Jake just made you come here to take care of me.”

“I'm not trying to replace your mother, sweetie.”

“Don't call me sweetie.” Sally tossed down the hand control to her game and turned her back.

Rachel ached for the little girl. She wished she knew how to take away her pain. What if by coming here, she'd caused Sally even more pain? Troubled, she made her way down the dark hall, praying for the Lord to heal the child's broken heart.

Intending to give Sally a little space before trying again, Rachel shouldered open the master bedroom door. Seeing the wide bed all made up and waiting steadied her. Sally's words hadn't rattled, her, had they?
No. The wedding dress shimmered like rich ivory, bringing back the memories of the day.

Rachel studied her new wedding band, glittering as pure and true as the vows she and Jake shared today. She remembered the affection in Jake's gaze, the comfort of his touch, the steady promise in his voice as he'd sworn to cherish her through this life.

I'm just feeling sad because he's not here, she realized, reaching for the dress. While she'd hoped for a much different night, she'd married a soldier and as a soldier's wife she realized there would be a lot of ways she would need to be extra supportive of him. Being okay about his call tonight was one of those ways.

She nudged the closet door open and searched for a hanger, which wasn't difficult considering the entire closet was empty. There wasn't a shirt or a hanger in sight on the bare rod.

Sally's words rolled back into her mind as she hustled across the hallway to the room where Jake's clothes hung.
Uncle Jake just made you come here to take care of me.

That's not true. Rachel knew in her heart that it wasn't. So why then, had Jake planned for separate rooms for their wedding night?

J
ake hauled his duffel out of the truck, slung the bag's thick strap over one shoulder and squinted against the rising sun. Exhausted, sweaty and limping, he hobbled up the steps to the back door. The first thing that greeted him was the scent of freshly brewing coffee and the greasy, meaty smell of cooked bacon. The second was fresh-faced, lovely Rachel in the kitchen.

His wife. That was hard to believe. The impossible knots tangled inside him yanked even more tightly—a warning sign. Danger ahead. He'd better get his emotions under control.

She was turned away from him, flipping pancakes. Her thick chestnut hair was swept back in a bouncy ponytail that swooped past her shoulder blades. She wore a pink tank top that showed off the graceful lines of her arms and her back, and wash-worn cutoffs hugged her
slender hips. Her feet—toenails painted a pearled pink—were in a pair of pink flip-flops.

He'd never seen her like this. Relaxed, moving easily as she plated the pancakes and slipped them into the oven to keep warm. His heart turned over like an adoring dog and lay there, belly up and exposed.

Definitely danger ahead. He would not be weak. He would not be vulnerable. Panic set in because he didn't want to feel this way. Not in combat, not in life and never in love. Combat he was trained for but this— Lord, he didn't know how to leave the most vulnerable part of him exposed.

“You're back.” He could tell that he'd startled her again, for her hand was over her heart and she sagged against the counter. “You're very good at being a stealthy Special Forces guy. I'm going to have to get used to that. You look exhausted. How about some coffee?”

Her hand was shaking as she poured a cup. Shaking. That's when he noticed she wasn't smiling. He didn't think he'd ever seen Rachel like this. Dimmed, as if she were holding back that light that always shone within her. She slipped the cup on the breakfast counter, pulling away before their fingers could meet. Turning away before he could do more than notice how sad she looked.
Sad.

Then it was gone so fast, he wondered if he'd seen it at all. She looked tired, he realized. The stress of
moving and leaving the responsibilities of her old life behind. And picking up those of a new one. He wanted to make this as easy on her as he could. “Coffee would be good. Figure you and I can take Sally to school, I'll show you around Fort Walton Beach. Show you where the grocery store is. The post office. That kind of thing. Maybe we can get in the walk I promised you last night.”

“That sounds fine. Do you want breakfast?” She returned to the stove, where she poured more batter on the griddle.

She didn't seem fine; she didn't seem angry either. What did that mean? He didn't know. He was too tired to think. Every muscle he owned was killing him, he'd gotten out of shape since he'd been gone. It didn't take much. The ten-click run in full gear last night had taken a toll. “Is Sally up yet?”

“She's still sleeping. I think. She's refusing to talk to me.”

“
What?
I thought she was looking forward to you being here.”

“This is going to take some adjustment, Jake. I'm not her mother, and yet I'm telling her what to do and taking care of her. It's going to be hard.”

“She wasn't rude to you, was she? She was so glad on the nanny's last day. I'll talk to her.”

Rachel realized Jake didn't understand. Because he'd never been in Sally's position? Or because he saw his
new wife as just another nanny with housekeeper skills? He couldn't be that cruel, right?

She flipped the pancakes, considering this man she'd thought was so wonderful. He
was
wonderful. Strong and decent and tender. His kisses were tender. A bad man didn't kiss like that, at least, she didn't think one could. His kisses felt like a perfect sunrise on a cold morning, chasing away the night shadows and giving light where there was none. They made her spirit lift like those quiet sweep of clouds at dawn, washed in a heavenly gold.

“Do I have a few minutes before breakfast is ready?”

She nodded as she checked the pancakes with the edge of the spatula. It was easier to concentrate on her cooking. Strange, this felt more like working in the diner than cooking for her family.

He set down his cup. Maybe he was going to kiss her now and hold her tight. Tell her how much he'd missed her. “Then I'm gonna grab a fast shower. Do I have ten minutes?”

She forced a nod, unable to believe her eyes as her new husband pivoted on his boot heel and bounded up the stairs, all soldier. But not a newlywed.

She already knew where he was going. As she sipped her coffee, she listened as his heavy step on the stairs without hesitation turned right and sounded directly overhead. He was not in the master bedroom, but the one where his clothes were. His room.

His room. She didn't understand. The diamonds on her left hand sparkled as if in celebration, tearing at her even more. He didn't use the shower in the main bathroom upstairs. She could hear the boards overhead squeaking slightly beneath his weight as he came and went. She heard the door to his room close, and she didn't understand. Married people shared a room. They were together. They were loving. If he didn't want to be with her, then what did that mean?

It means you may have made a mistake, Rachel. The sick feeling she'd been fighting all night returned. She flipped the last batch of pancakes, plated them and turned off the burner. She was hardly aware of anything but the footsteps overhead as Jake dressed and then ambled down the hallway. Coming closer.

She set out the last of the butter, moving woodenly, feeling cold inside because she knew what was coming. Whether they talked about it now or later tonight, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the truth.

The ring glittered, mockingly this time, taunting her as shame gathered in her stomach. She was married. That was a final, done deal. She'd vowed to honor this man before God, and so she would. The question was, what kind of marriage would this be? She'd been so eager to fulfill her dream that she'd accepted Jake's proposal without asking questions that now seemed vital.

He emerged from the shadows in the stairwell, looking heart-stoppingly handsome, striding easily toward
her like a well-honed athlete. His cropped hair was jet-black, still wet from his shower, and his jaw was smooth-shaven. Even in jogging shorts and a tank, he looked fierce and capable, as though there wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

He did not look like the man who'd rescued her from Bullwinkle. Or who'd cradled a little grieving girl against his wide chest. Or a man who'd romanced her with roses and kindness and charm. That man was gone, she realized. A warrior was in his place, and she did not know this man. Was her Jake in there somewhere, she wondered, deep inside the toughness and steel?

“You are awesome, Rachel.” He grabbed the syrup bottle she'd placed on the breakfast bar and upended it over his plate. One hard squeeze of his mighty hand was enough to make the maple sweetness shoot out like water. “I can't tell you how great this is. I'm starving. I am so glad I married you.”

She felt the cup slip out of her clumsy fingers, but she didn't hear it hit the floor. Blood rushed through her ears, and like an ocean's tidal wave surging up to wash her away, it drowned out every sound. Jake looked startled, but she waved him away, emotion wedged in her throat so she couldn't speak. She grabbed at the roll of paper towels but tugged too hard and the roll jumped across the counter, unrolling as it went.

Her vision blurred as hot tears filled her eyes. A
voice inside her was saying, “He didn't mean that the way it sounded. This isn't as bad as you think.” But it was.

She hadn't been married twenty-four hours and it was so different from what she'd thought. It fell so far short of what she'd imagined. There was no companionable happiness, no affection and conversation and togetherness, and the dream of it shattered at her feet and lay in pieces, right along with the cup.

“Baby, let me get that—”

“I've got it,” she croaked, her voice sounding raw and broken as her dreams. Blinding hot tears scalded her eyes as she gave the paper towels another yank and this time the paper tore away. She had way too many lengths, but she didn't care. She wadded them up quite as if she saw them, as if everything were perfectly fine, and knelt at Jake's feet to swipe up the mess. Ceramic edges clanked together as she swiped. “Go on and finish your meal.”

“No, you aren't fine.” He knelt and she could feel the tender wave of his concern. He was so close, she could lean forward a few inches and she'd be able to lay her cheek on the chest she knew felt as solid as steel. But she would not lay her troubles there. She could not find the words to tell him her fears. Or how foolish she'd been.

“This is about me leaving last night. It was unfortunate timing.”

“Trust me, that is not an issue. I told you I under
stood. I knew about your commitment to this country when I agreed to marry you.” But what about his commitment to her? This was a man who'd swept her off her feet, told her how wonderful she was, told her everything she'd wanted to hear. It was a man who'd stood before God and vowed to honor and cherish her, to love her and care for her. Surely he'd meant that. Surely he had.

She blinked back every tear. Swiped up every piece of ceramic and coffee spill, feeling as if she were mopping up what was left of her lost dreams, too.

“Tell me. Please.” Jake took the sodden paper towels and broken shards from her and set them on the counter. He towered over her, so strong and distant and remote. Then held out his hand to help her up.

Oh, it felt right when her palm met his. The twist of her heart. The sigh of her soul. It was a new day, this would be their first full day as man and wife. Surely, she could trust him. She came into his arms, he folded her close, and she was home. “I guess I need reassuring.”

“Then I'm you're man. What do you need, baby?”

Oh, she liked it when he talked like that, with his voice a low rumble in his throat. “I noticed how your things were in the extra bedroom and then Sally had said you'd married me just to take care of her.”

She felt him stiffen. She heard his heartbeat flutter. He wasn't saying anything.

This can't be right. She pushed away from him and kept going. A cold chill swept through her, and she shivered as hard as if she'd stepped out into a Montana blizzard without a coat on. “You didn't marry me to be a nanny, right? This is a real marriage. You'll be with me, tonight, forever, right?”

“Rachel, I thought we would both need our space. That's all. I can move my stuff back.”

“That's not what I want. Not like this. You're acting as if this is a convenient arrangement, something practical and sensible because you're leaving in two weeks and you'll be gone for the next six months. Tell me that's not true.” She watched his eyes harden. Felt the answer in his silence.

The tiniest hope within her faded. Despair shrouded her like a cocoon. Everything around her seemed distant and dim and muffled. Everything within her turned to ice until there was no pain, only a void where no wishes live, and no dreams prosper.

“It's not exactly true.” His words sounded choked, as if he were in great pain, too. “I can't lie to you, Rachel. I value you too much.”

“Value me? You married me to watch your niece and cook your meals. You sent me roses. You romanced me. You made me fall in love with you and believe that I was special to you. That I was your one true love.”

He broke at the sight of her tears. What had happened? He would never want to hurt her. He hadn't hurt
her, not really, and yet tears pooled in her eyes and he could feel her heartbreak as mightily as if he'd taken a bullet in the chest for her. He would take a bullet for her, he would protect her with his life. But he could not make her understand. “There is no such thing as true love. I've been all around the globe, and I haven't seen it.”

She recoiled as if he'd slapped her in the face, and he couldn't say why but he could feel the shock of it in her battered heart—her heart that he was hurting.

That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to keep her safe and protect her. To shelter her and make her happy. He'd married her, he would give her all he could.

Except your heart, a tiny voice inside him whispered. And it was the truth. A truth he could not deny. He'd shielded up his heart so well, that not war or evil or the horrors he'd witnessed could touch it. Only this woman and her gentle kindness had come close. He'd protected his heart so long, he didn't know if he could do anything else.

All he knew for sure was that he could feel Rachel's hurt as surely as the ocean breeze on his face and hear her heartbreak in the brittle sound of the palm leaves overhead. The bright blue Gulf shimmered like jewels in the first sunlight and he swiped the pain from his eyes. He had to fix this. He took a step toward her, sure that all he needed to do was to comfort her in his arms.

She took two steps back, looking up at him as if he was a stranger she didn't know.

He definitely had to fix that. “You are special to me. More than I know how to say. Don't you know that I'd do anything for you, anything you need?”

“Then tell me that you love me. Really love me. Tell me the truth.”

He could not say the words. He was afraid that they would diminish him, tear down the core of steel he had to have to be a good soldier. But he wanted to. He wished he could surrender. “I've loved you more than I've ever loved anyone.”

“That's not the same.”

“I'll do my best to be a good husband to you, but you know that it's not roses and horse rides and starlight, right? Any marriage is a practical arrangement.”

“A practical arrangement?” She said the words with a look of horror twisting across her beautiful face. A face that did not stop gazing up at him with all the light draining from her loving eyes, and taking that affection with it.