The Christmas Piano Tree: What's Christmas without a tree? (A Kissing Creek novel Book 1) (9 page)

Like striking a match, its spark taking him out of the darkness.

Here, finally, the acute silence allowed his brain to form the words. Here he could focus his mind without the whir of hospital noise, the incessant questions from the doctors, the chatter in his own head. He couldn’t make sense out of what Scott told him that day. Now he knew why. Being here in Kissing Creek was the catalyst he needed to solve the puzzle.

After months of trying,
begging
his internal self to kick into gear, this time something snapped together in his brain.

Click.

Out here in the woods, the full meaning of what Scott had tried to tell him sank in, making him shake his head in amazement. He couldn’t believe it. It was the answer he needed to make everything right for Kristen.

Giving thanks, Jared got down on his knees in the snow and bowed his head. A comforting peace anointed him, refreshed his spirit. Then he prayed like hell he’d find the little girl before it was too late.

* * * * *

The constant banging of the shutters outside broke into Kristen’s thoughts, her prayers. How long had the sergeant been gone? Twenty, thirty minutes? Why wasn’t he back yet?

Desperate to do something, she spied the sergeant’s olive drab duffel bag. Did he have a cell phone inside? Some homeless vets carried prepaid cell phones they got from the shelter. Should she look inside? He’d left the hooks unsnapped, leaving the top flap open—

Before she could stop herself, Kristen dug her hand inside his canvas duffel bag, the familiar act reminding her of times past when she’d helped Scott get ready for a deployment. A strange shiver went through her as she automatically counted down her mental list as she did every time. She knew it by heart. Ear plugs, extra pair of shoelaces, insect repellant, toilet paper. She’d pack his personal stuff last, like his socks and extra skivvies—

But this
wasn’t
Scott’s bag, she reminded herself. The gravity of her rash behavior hit her hard. The sergeant had secrets, she’d surmised by the faraway look on his face, secrets that were none of her business.

This is wrong. What am I doing? I have no right to pry.

She pulled her hand out quickly, as if she’d burned it.

Shaking, sweating, her whole core coming undone, Kristen sank down on the rug. Okay, so everyone has secrets, not just him. Why
shouldn’t
she look inside? Her child was missing and this man was her only hope in finding her.

Come to think of it, what did she know about him? Nothing. She’d invited him into her home, she’d kissed him, dammit, she had a right to dig. Who knew what she’d find? What if she discovered he was lying to her? That he wasn’t a vet but a poser, a professional hustler who preyed on helpless women?

Did she really want to know
?

Kristen shook her head in denial. She noticed he hadn’t marked the sides and bottom of the duffel bag with red duct tape like Scott did, making his bag easy to find. As if the owner had no identity. Wow, that set her off in a different direction. Seeing him in a new light, her anger dissipated a little.

A sudden sadness gripped her, taking her mind off Rachel, wondering what personal sorrow had set the sergeant on his wandering quest. Did he lose someone? A girlfriend, a wife? So many guys got Dear John emails, Scott told her. Once the glamour wore off, they couldn’t understand or embrace the life of a soldier’s wife.

Or they didn’t want to.

Kristen had to admit it was hard at times. The long deployments and God knows the base housing had its trying moments, though families stuck together and offered help when needed. And a girl learned real fast that her soldier would do anything for his brothers. Drop their own lives if they were home on leave to help him, share the load if he was hurt, and give his life to save him.

She closed the top flap. She couldn’t look inside. Whatever the reason for his sadness, it was none of her business.

This duffel bag belonged to a stranger.

Then why
did
she let him kiss her? And why did
she
kiss him back? Thrown herself at him with such passion she would have jumped on him and loved him with every inch of her being. Was she
that
horny for sex she had no morals? After all, she was still a married woman—

No, Kristen thought sadly, shaking her head. She wasn’t. Not anymore. Her life had changed since the day she sent her childhood sweetheart off to war and he’d come home a man, filled with tales of guts and glory and pride. Eager to serve his country. Then years later he died in that service. She knew that if it had to be, Scott wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Giving his life for his country, for freedom.

But it didn’t end there. Not for her.

She was constantly wondering what his last moments were like, thoughts that haunted her with an intensity that bordered on both curiosity and fear. Late at night when Rachel was asleep and she was huddled under the covers in the old four poster she shared with Scott, those thoughts took on a life of their own. Frightening, wild images flew before her eyes in the dark. Fiery explosions, cries of men suffering, and then finally, silence.

Scott was dead.

Her heart stopped every time.

Kristen looked down and tugged on her simple gold wedding band. Loose, but still shiny even if she wasn’t a married woman anymore. She’d just never accepted it until now.

With those words sinking in, she felt like crying, but she didn’t. Something in her had changed. She’d shed tears every night for months, cried her eyes out until they burned. She couldn’t, not anymore. She’d always get a lump in her throat when she thought of Scott. My God, he was her first love, the father of her child, but in a moment of freedom she never saw coming, she let go of her pent-up emotions and embraced without guilt the pure joy of knowing she
could
fall in love again.

She’d let him kiss her, didn’t she? And she kissed him back.

Why the sergeant?

She’d had chances to date, friends on the base tried to fix her up, but she had no desire to let another man touch her. To know the intimate secrets of her womanhood, to smell her desire, taste the salt off her skin, love her.

Until Sgt. Jared Milano walked into her life.

He’d awakened something buried so deep in her, Kristen didn’t stop him when he claimed her mouth with his. She couldn’t deny his presence overwhelmed her in a pleasant way,
and
got her dander up when he wouldn’t let her have her way when she wanted to go after Rachel. He was right, of course. And when he leaned down to kiss her again, she clung to him.

If she’d been a smart cookie instead of a cookie baker, she thought, smiling, she would have pulled away. But she didn’t. She
wanted
to kiss him back.

Let him love her.

All the while in her heart praying he’d find her little girl and bring her home.

Oh, God, where is she
?
Where’s Rachel
?

* * * * *

The falling snow chilled him, but Jared didn’t feel it. Sweat dripped down his face. He was on the move again, trekking deeper into the woods. The joy of remembering Scott’s words, knowing he was going to rock Kristen’s world with what he had to tell her, was short-lived. It didn’t mean a damn if anything happened to Rachel.

He blinked, and then blinked again. How long had he blacked out? No more than a few minutes, but every second counted. The temperature was dropping fast.

He had to find the child
now
.

He flipped on his flashlight, the bright light making a wide sweeping arc over the tall pines. A few feet back, the trees were easy to scan, but here they were surrounded by thick bushes. The rural landscape took on a gnarly-witch-in-the-woods setting with creepy vines and hanging tree limbs long and spindly. He almost expected to find a black cauldron and bottles of witches’ brew strewn about the high snowdrifts.

But no little girl in pigtails
.

Jared wished he had his night vision goggles. As far as he could tell, the kid must have run along the trail leading into these backwoods. Wet and slippery. It was unlikely a deer or other large animal had come this way, no broken brushes. A small child was a different matter. She could easily slip through without leaving footprints. A thin layer of ice covered the stone path. That should slow her down. Fortunately, the dense fog from earlier had cleared.

He kept going, swinging the flashlight everywhere.

He found nothing.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Something was wrong. A bad feeling came over him, whether it was because he could see
no
sign of her coming this way or his own intuition told him time was running out. He looked at his gloved hands, the black leather nicked and sliced by yanking on sharp bushes to clear the path. If the little girl came this way, she’d have cut herself, but there was no sign of blood.

What if he’d gone the wrong way?

It would be hours before he found her.

Jared nearly lost it then. Never had he found himself so vested emotionally in a mission. Sure, each man in his unit had each other’s back, did his job. They were trained professionals, knew what to expect if they were separated from the team. But this was an innocent kid, for chrissakes, her heart twisted up in a knot, her emotions jumping all over the place.

Where was her daddy
? she asked.

Why was her mommy kissing that man
?
Didn’t her mommy want her anymore
?

It ate him up inside. Put him off his game. He had to stop thinking like this, go about the search logically. Rachel was angry and hurt when she ran, then frightened, and by now, downright cold and hungry. Making it worse for the child, the play of moonlight and shadows on the oddly-shaped trees would turn into scary creatures. She’d wander aimlessly, looking for a place to hide from the mythical ghosts and demons that lived only in her mind.

Most likely she was holed up under a large bush or she climbed into a hollow tree trunk. Either way, she couldn’t take the cold for too long. The seduction of laying her head down on a blanket of snow would be too tempting for her to resist.

That unbearable thought came to haunt him again. The sight of finding her in the snow, her eyelids closed, white crystals resting on her long lashes, her breathing stilled.

Jesus.

Then what
?
How are you going to tell Kristen she’s lost her little girl, too
?

The thought of holding her in his arms while she sobbed her eyes out put him in a place more horrific than any war zone. Jared had seen his share of horror and misery while deployed, racked up more than the usual battle scars, but he’d always been up front with his men. Told them what to expect, no stepping around the truth with a lot of b.s. This was the first time he’d be at a loss for words if he didn’t find that little girl.

I’ll find her. I have to, or I’ll die trying
.

How many times did he bargain with God out in the field to find a man alive after an attack?

This time he prayed harder than ever that He would hear him.

He turned to head off in a different direction, call it instinct, where he thought he saw movement. The sky rumbled overhead, giving him a clear signal another storm was coming.

Damn it to hell
, he cursed under his breath. Not much time left before the snow came down thick and heavy. He was in a strange state of mind, half living in the past, the blood boiling in his veils as it had on so many patrols, the other half of him so fiercely determined to find the child, he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.

He nearly jumped out of his own skin when a noise startled him.
There
. By the tall pines. He swore he heard muffled sounds. Close by, he was sure of it. Like a small animal moving about in the brush.

Or a little girl.

At that moment, a rustling breeze came up behind him, its loud whisper vying for his attention but he stayed focused, shining his light low on the ground.

“Rachel,
Rachel
!”

Silence.

Either it
was
a small animal or she was afraid to show herself. He listened again, careful not to make the slightest sound. His own breath was the only thing he heard in his ears.  No soft whimpers. No footsteps disturbing the crusted snow.

Several long seconds went by, the air becoming very still as if the wayward breeze was curious, too.

“Rachel, it’s—”

He stopped. What was he going to say?
It’s Sgt. Milano, I knew your daddy. I’m a soldier, too. Please come out.

That might frighten her even more.

Frustrated, trying to decide his next move, he kept scanning the area with his light when the twinkle of a bright star in the sky caught his eye. He’d almost forgotten it was Christmas Eve.