Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Blessed Vows

Blessed Vows
Jillian Hart


When waitress Rachel McKaslin reluctantly let Jake McCall move into the apartment above her family's diner, she never dreamed the handsome tech sergeant would be so charming. Soon into their joyful courtship, Jake surprised her by proposing. Now, Rachel prayed their union wasn't just a convenience and that Jake truly loved her.Jake had promised his dying brother he'd care for his little girl, so he needed a wife. But as he wed this beautiful woman and brought her home, he realized his feelings didn't stem from duty. He loved Rachel McKaslin fiercely. Would God's providence enable him to survive his dangerous assignment and return to confess his true feelings?









Jake watched her with serious eyes


It was as if in that brief moment he could see right through her to the places that mattered and held the greatest truths. Rachel’s heart skipped a beat, and her soul brightened the way sunshine did after passing clouds.

The earth seemed to still and she saw the man he was, beyond the warrior and her brother’s friend and Sally’s uncle. Jake was no longer a stranger. She couldn’t say exactly why; it was only something she could feel. Like faith. Or like hope.

She could sense the heart of the man, his integrity and character and strength. And his goodness.

He folded his strong arms over his broad chest. “Come join me.”

That sounded like the best idea ever.




JILLIAN HART


makes her home in Washington State, where she has lived most of her life. When Jillian is not hard at work on her next story, she loves to read, go to lunch with her friends and spend quiet evenings with her family.




Blessed Vows

Jillian Hart







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


My purpose is that they may be encouraged

in heart and united in love.

—Colossians 2:2


Dear Reader,

THE McKASLIN CLAN continues when Rachel meets her brother’s best friend. Jake is on temporary leave from active duty in the Middle East so that he can take guardianship of his orphaned niece. Rachel falls in love with both the man and the little girl, and forsakes the life she knows in Montana to move across the country to where Jake is stationed. Always a romantic, Rachel marries her knight in shining armor and means her wedding vows with every bit of her heart and soul. Love, like faith, takes great belief and trust. But will her love be strong enough to open Jake’s battle weary heart?

Thank you for choosing Blessed Vows. I hope you enjoy Rachel’s story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

I wish you joy and the sweetest of blessings,









Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen




Chapter One


How did she get talked into this? Rachel McKaslin asked herself as she peered into the basement’s deep-box freezer. The answer was easy—because she had a teeny-weeny problem saying no. Especially when it came to saying no to any member of her family.

Which was why she was hanging nearly upside down in the freezer and freezing. Her fingertips were numb from shoving packages around. There was a roast in here somewhere. She knew it was in here. But could she find it? No. She did manage to find everything else, though: packages of hot dogs, boxes of frozen fish fillets, bags of frozen vegetables and a big sack of ice pops. The Popsicles she’d been looking for the last time she’d been searching through this freezer.

Wasn’t that just her luck?

She grabbed a couple of grape Popsicles and heaved herself over the edge of the freezer. Her feet hit the ground—yes, she loved being short—and she rubbed the small of her back. A home-cooked meal, that’s what her brother Ben had requested for his military buddy, who’d apparently been eating more MREs than real food for the last few years.

Okay. Frozen fish fingers probably didn’t exactly qualify as the main course of an old-fashioned home-cooked meal.

It would have helped if Ben had called while she’d still been at work at the diner. She could have made up something right there to bring home. Or she could have stopped by the store and bought a roast like the one she couldn’t manage to find now.

Maybe it was time to call in reinforcements. Maybe her sister Paige could send someone over from the diner with a to-go box. And after putting in a twelve-hour day on her feet, she’d be more than glad to give that a try.

It wasn’t as if she could cook a roast that wasn’t here. Ben would understand. But would his best friend?

She sighed. Well, with her luck, probably not.

She closed the freezer lid, flicked out the overhead light and at the base of the narrow stairs rising up out of the basement, she could hear the briiing of the phone.

Great, how long had it been ringing? She imagined Paige calling, worrying about why Rachel hadn’t answered after the twenty-seventh ring. Paige was a worrier. Or maybe it was her sister Amy checking in from her latest househunting quest. Or Ben—if it was Ben, then she could explain about the failed roast recovery mission.

She tried to dash up the stairs, but her bunny slippers on the narrow steps slowed her down. By the time she flew up and into the kitchen and wrapped her hand around the receiver, the ringing died. The dial tone droned in her ear. And she didn’t have caller ID.

Her cell phone began to chime the opening bars to “Ode to Joy.” Excellent! Whoever had called was trying her other phone. Except, where was it? As the electronic music grew louder and louder, she followed the sound into the kitchen and to the round oak table where her duffel bag sat, still zipped. She dug around until she found it.

And it was still ringing. Whew. She flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Ah, is this Rachel McKaslin?” a man’s gravelly voice asked, as if uncertain he had the right number.

A man’s voice she didn’t recognize. I think I know who this is. “Yep, that’s me.” She yanked open the freezer door on the fridge. “Is this Jake, by chance?”

“That would be me. Your brother told you I was comin’, but did he warn you about me?” There was a smile to Jake’s voice.

Without a doubt a very handsome smile, she thought as she tossed the ice pops into the freezer section of the fridge for later consumption. “Yep, he sure did. The question is, did Ben warn you about me?”

His warm, easy chuckle came across the line. “He did. Ben said that you are the generous and lovely soul who agreed to look after us at the last minute and on a Friday night. I take that to mean you cancelled a date?”

“Who, me? Date?” She bit her bottom lip to keep in the snicker.

“Well, it is a date night, and I understand you’re a single attractive lady.”

Yeah, right. Not since high school. There were a lot of great men in the world, good and decent men. She firmly believed that, but they never seemed to be interested in her. Maybe it was because she was always so busy, and that didn’t leave a lot of time to date. But that didn’t explain why no one ever asked her out. Most men were looking for a more worldly woman and, as she looked down at her fuzzy pink bunny slippers, she was anything but worldly.

“I thought I’d sacrifice a date night for Ben’s best buddy,” she said diplomatically so he wouldn’t know he was wrong, wrong, wrong about her. The reason why she was about to be a bridesmaid for the umpteenth time, and not a bride. “It’s the least I can do for the man who braved machine-gun fire to help haul my brother to cover a while back.”

“He was shot. I couldn’t just leave him there for the enemy to trip over.”

“My family and I, we’re all so grateful to you.” Rachel couldn’t imagine the kind of courage it took for someone to do their job in the military. “Because of you, our brother’s home safe and sound.”

“You’re giving me a lot of credit. I was just doin’ my job. And Ben’s a pretty tough guy. I should know, since we serve together. It takes more than a bullet to stop him.”

Humble, with a sense of humor. Judging by the deep rumbling baritone of his voice, Rachel figured that Jake had a drop-dead handsome face to match his charm, his smile and his voice. Which meant he was far, far out of her league.

Too bad. She sighed, not really disappointed. She had resigned herself to her unmarried status. She trusted God’s plan for her life. Maybe she wouldn’t always be single. Maybe He was simply making her wait for the very best man.

The thing was, she was getting extremely good at waiting.

“Rachel, can I ask you something?” There was a slight hesitation in his attractive baritone, as if something was wrong.

He’s canceling. That’s why he was calling at the last minute—not that she blamed him. From his perspective, he was probably imagining that being with his best buddy’s over-thirty-year-old spinster sister wasn’t the most fun way to spend an evening. As her slippers scuffled along the kitchen floor, she supposed he was right.

It was just as well because the roast she’d planned to rotisserie was missing in action. “I know Ben probably felt he needed someone to meet you, since you came all this way and he ran off to spend a romantic evening with his bride-to-be. But eating supper here probably wasn’t your first choice. I understand if you’d like to cancel.”

“Backing out isn’t in my nature. The trouble is, I can’t get to your house.”

“Oh, you’re lost.”

“That’s not my problem. I found my way here from the airport just fine. But getting to your house is harder than you’d think. I’m parked down the way in your driveway.”

“You’re here?” No way—she hadn’t heard anyone come up. Then again, hadn’t she just been in the basement nearly upside down in the freezer?

“How long have you been sitting out there without me knowing it?” Rachel headed straight to the sink and yanked the curtain out of the way. She squinted through the long rays of sunlight. The parking area and the gravel lane leading up to it were empty.

“I’m not exactly at the house yet. Look down the road and you’ll see my problem.”

A break-down? A flat tire, what? She scanned the length of the newly graveled driveway, past the lawn’s reach to the point where the tidy white board fencing paralleled the road.

There he was. At least she figured it was him behind the wheel of a bright red SUV. She could barely make out an impression of a tall, dark-haired, wide-shouldered man behind the wheel, but with the glare on the windshield it could have been her imagination filling in the details.

So, why was he just parked in the middle of the road for no reason?

Then she saw the giant ungainly brown creature leap into the middle of the road, between the vehicle and the house. The bull moose lowered his massive four-point antlers, and he meant business. He bellowed an ugly, flat-noted call before he pawed the ground with his impressive front hooves.

Moose attack! Rachel dropped the phone and flew out the back door. She grabbed the first thing she passed by and ran full-out down the path, swinging what turned out to be the old kitchen broom.

“Get! Go on!” she waved the yellow bristles in the direction of the stubborn moose.

The creature didn’t even bother to turn around. He kept his hind end to her, as if he already knew there was no way she was a threat.

Well, as if she’d let her brother’s best friend and rescuer be bullied by a stubborn old moose! “You can’t bully anyone you want. Get out of the road.”

Nothing. The moose had dismissed her entirely. Instead, his unblinking gaze remained on the shiny red vehicle that gleamed in the autumn sun. The animal swung his head as if in a challenge and pawed.

Disaster. All Rachel could see was the animal attacking that brand-new vehicle. That wasn’t going to happen on her watch. She swung the broom closer to his hind end. “Hey!”

The moose didn’t acknowledge her in any way. What he ought to be doing was bolting in fear of a human being with a weapon. Okay, it was a broom, but he was a wild animal. Weren’t they afraid of people? “Go! Shoo!”

Nothing. How was she going to help Jake now?

The driver’s-side window rasped down. That deliciously low male voice called out, “Need any help?”

“Oh, no. I can handle it.”

“I see. You’re doing an excellent job.”

Was he mocking her? The moose shook his head menacingly, and bowed low, as if preparing to charge.

Okay, this wasn’t going well. It would be a shame for the moose to bash up that new vehicle with his antlers, plus scare the city boy half to death. Lord, a little help would be appreciated.

The door of the Jeep whipped open and a lean hulk of a man dropped to the ground as if he’d fast-roped from a Black Hawk helicopter. “Shouldn’t your pet be in the pasture or something?”

“Oh, he’s not a pet. Are you kidding? Who keeps a moose for a pet? He’s a wild animal.”

And that’s why he’s not charging you? Jake didn’t have a whole lot of experience with moose, but he did know they were dangerous. “Why don’t you back off nice and slow?” He caught up a good-sized rock in his hand.

“You’re going to hit him with a rock?” the woman with the broom huffed.

“Only to scare him off. Not hurt him.” What kind of man did she take him for?

Jake didn’t have time to find out because the moose charged. He was a huge creature. Bigger than the Jeep, the moose gained some serious speed with his awkward-looking legs. He could cause real damage if he hit the vehicle…and he’d probably scare little Sally.

Doing what it took to defend his small niece, Jake lobbed the grenade-sized rock. The hunk of granite bounced off the swoop of the moose’s right antler, low enough to give him a slight bonk, but not enough to seriously hurt him. Was it enough to stop the beast?

The great animal shook his head, looking a little cross-eyed. That had to hurt.

For good measure, Jake chose a second rock, peering around the door frame to see if the animal was going to run off, regroup for a second attack or, more possibly, turn around and take his anger out on the woman with the pink furry slippers.

Ben’s unmarried sister. Part of him couldn’t help thinking, no wonder. But that wasn’t fair, because she’d obviously not been expecting him so soon. Had she been lounging after a hard workday, maybe? She wore a big shapeless T-shirt with the faded logo of a local college and baggy shorts.

It was hard to get much of a good impression. Especially with her thick chestnut hair sticking in awkward directions and some of it nearly straight up. She wielded the old broom like a martial arts expert.

One thing he had to say about her was that she was no shrinking violet. She boldly marched toward the angry moose and swatted him on the flank with the bristle end of her broom. “Shoo! Go on! You stop being demanding and greedy. I’ll feed you when it’s time and not a moment sooner.”

This animal wasn’t a pet? Jake watched as the moose shook his head again, no longer threatening. The poor guy looked contrite before he ambled off in the direction of the lawn, as if he were going to wait there for his feed.

Thank the Lord no one was hurt—including the moose. Jake straightened, dropped the rock and considered his unlikely rescuer. Rachel was not what he expected. Ben talked about his sisters a lot, and it had been clear that he was closest to Rachel.

She looked like her picture. Ben had had family pictures in his dorm during their training years and later in his duplex in the years that followed. All of Ben’s sisters were pretty. Rachel’s picture had always given him the impression of a demure and introverted young woman, an innocent and a wallflower. Not someone who bossed moose around or had a sparkle to her soul that made him keep looking.

“Uncle Jake?” a small, candy-sweet voice asked from the back seat of the Jeep. “I wanna pet the deer.”

“It’s a moose, Sally baby,” he answered without taking his gaze off of Rachel McKaslin as she held her broom like an M-4. “It’s a wild animal. We’d be smart to stay back and give it room.”

“Oh. All right.” Her sigh was a wistful sound of disappointment.

He’d been hearing that sound a lot over the past few days since he’d come to take charge of Sally. He’d been pulled off active duty in Iraq, and he was still in shock.

One day he’d been rescuing a pair of captured marines and the next day he’d been on a cargo plane to the States with the news his sister had been in an accident, had died and been buried. And he was not only the executor of her estate, but the sole remaining family that his little niece had.

The trouble was, he’d been stateside four days, and it hadn’t been time enough to settle his sister’s estate, and already his colonel wanted to know when he could get back to active duty.

And Sally…how did he comfort a grieving child? He was a rough-and-tumble Special Forces soldier. As a para-rescue jumper, or PJ, he knew how to jump out of an airplane from twenty-five thousand feet, parachute in and set up a perimeter, execute a mission without a single mishap.

He had Sally, but what was he going to do? It had him stumped.

As if he didn’t have enough on his mind, the moose was still glaring angrily at the Jeep from his field. Maybe it was the color that was making him so angry. While the animal had backed away, he hadn’t backed down. He still swung his head from side to side and pawed the ground. The Jeep was definitely in danger.

But was Rachel?

“You stay belted in, Sally.” He shut the door, leaving her safe and considered Rachel McKaslin, his best buddy’s little sister. She was out in the open and unconcerned. Did she know the threat? He stalked the good five yards separating them, keeping a close watch on that moose.

Rachel lowered her broom. “I’m sorry. I should have anticipated this. Bullwinkle does this every evening.”

“Bullwinkle?”

“It’s just what I call him. I should have fed him and the horse earlier, and you wouldn’t have been so rudely welcomed.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t your pet.”

“Not a pet, no, more like a sometimes friendly, sometimes not, wild animal who’s decided to take up residence around here and chase the horses away from his grain trough. He’s a pushy moose.”

“Pushy, huh?” Jake paced closer to protect Rachel, watching as the moose lowered his head and started to charge. Great. On a mission, Jake was prepared for every contingency. He just hadn’t thought he’d have to be on alert on a simple trip down a gravel driveway. “Want to give me that broom? It looks like he’s coming in for round two.”

“I can take care of him.”

Jake’s hand shot out and he had the broom before she could blink.

“Hey! You took my broom.”

“I did.”

“But it’s my moose. I can handle him.”

“I’m trained to serve and protect, so I might as well make myself useful.” The handle was solid hardwood. He’d excelled at hand-to-hand combat. “Rachel, stay behind me.”

“You’re a little bossy, too. It’s a moose, not war.”

“Everything’s war, pretty lady.” He timed the moose’s gait, waited until the huge ungainly creature was coming head-on and then shot out and rapped him on the nose.

Big nostrils flared, the moose skidded to a stop and shook his head.

“That smarted, didn’t it?” Jake kept the broom at the ready. “Do you need another smack?”

The moose’s eyes rolled in anger.

Uh-oh. “Maybe that wasn’t the best course of action. It works with sharks who get a little too aggressive.”

“Smacking them in the nose?”

“Yep. It works every time.”

“He’s pushy, but mostly harmless. All I need to do is get him some grain. Wait here. With you at my back to cover me with a broom, I feel perfectly safe.” She sauntered away, as if without a care in the world.

He was a soldier with fifteen years of experience spent in parts of this world few Americans saw. He’d seen evil, touched evil and battled it. Real evil. And he had the scars to prove it. Even remembering made his heart ache.

He was glad that Rachel McKaslin’s biggest problem at the moment was her semi-pet moose. There was peace and goodness in this world. It didn’t hurt that he got to see a rare glimpse of it before he headed back to guard this country’s freedom.

It didn’t hurt to see what he was fighting for.




Chapter Two


Could she see Jake from here? Rachel absently unsnapped the grain barrel’s lid and stood on tiptoe. Her attention was elsewhere, straining to see across the aisle, through Nugget’s box stall and past the open top of the half door.

Nope. No such luck. She saw plenty of sky and maple trees and the lawn in front of the house. But no Jake.

Pity, since he was such a sight. She had the right to look because he hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring. He was pleasing to the eye, pleasing in the way God intended a man to be. But there was more to him, and that was the attractive part—Mr. Jake Hathaway, Special Forces hero, defending and protecting.

He sure had seemed to be in control. He had to be to participate in all kinds of secret missions in the military. Handling a moose was no challenge for him. He’d tossed that rock as easily as if he’d been skimming stones on a pond and expertly enough so that he’d winged the animal on his antler and hadn’t caused any real harm.

And just what did he think of her? Please, don’t let him think I’m a nut bar. She rolled her eyes as she removed the lid and reached for the scoop. She was still wearing her fuzzy bunny slippers!

She hadn’t had a chance to run a brush through her hair or change out of her comfy after-work clothes. So she wasn’t exactly looking her best; she was more like looking her worst.

Great way to make a first impression.

This was the reason she didn’t have a boyfriend. She kept scaring them off. That was why she made sure, when she prayed for the right man to come along, that he have a sense of humor.

He would definitely need it.

She grabbed a pail from the shelf, dumped in three scoops of sweet-smelling grain and sealed the bin. Nugget was leaning over the side doorway, nickering in hopes of an early supper, poor guy. After leaving him with promises of grain to come, she hurried with the small bucket down the aisle and crawled through the paddock fence that faced the driveway.

Jake was still wielding the broom defensively, but the moose was a little farther off with his head down and snorting. Obviously there had been some action while she’d been in the barn. Before the big creature could charge again, she held the pail high and shook it.

The resulting ring of grain striking the side of the bucket brought the moose’s head up. He studied the bright red Jeep gleaming like a big bull’s-eye, and then turned to look at the bucket she held. To help him along with his decision to choose the grain over the vehicle, she shook the pail harder and hurried toward him.

“Give that to me and stay back.” Jake seemed to take his self-assigned role of defender seriously.

Maybe it was because he thought a woman wearing big long-eared slippers might not be tough. Well, she wasn’t afraid of a wild moose. She ignored Jake’s advice, she was sure it was well meaning, but really, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t dealt with this situation before. She marched across the road and upended the bucket on the ground. The grain pellets tumbled and rushed into a molasses-scented pile in a bed of wild grasses, and the moose came running.

With her empty bucket banging against her knee, she hurried back onto the graveled lane as the moose attacked the pile as if he hadn’t eaten in five weeks.

“A little theatrical for a moose, but he’s mostly harmless,” she told Jake, who’d rushed to her side looking pretty angry. “He didn’t take a liking to your Jeep, though. I’d move it into the garage if I were you, while he’s distracted.”

“I can’t believe you did that.” He stood between her and the moose. “You could have been killed. More people are killed every year in the Iditarod by moose than by all other predators combined, including wolves and mountain lions. You might treat him like a pet, but he’s still dangerous and unpredictable.”

She grabbed hold of her broom and was surprised at how worked up he was. She could sense how he’d been afraid for her safety, that was why he was all agitated. She didn’t know why she could feel his emotions or his intent. Maybe she was reading a lot into his behavior, but it was hard to be upset with a man who only wanted to protect her. Even if it was unnecessary, it was well-intentioned.

And wasn’t such goodness what she’d been praying for in a man? Not that he was The One, but still, a girl had to hope. “I’ll run ahead and open the garage door for you, and I’ll fix you a supper to remember. Is it a deal?”

“That’s a pretty tall order, but I’d sure appreciate it.” He didn’t take his steely gaze from the gobbling moose. “I don’t get home-cooked dinners very often.”

“Then I’ll see you at the house.”

His attention remained on his adversary as he backed toward his vehicle. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride? You’d be safer.”

“I don’t think so.” How could it be safer to be in close quarters with the handsome, hunky, Special Forces soldier?

She glanced over her shoulder before she stepped into the garage through the side door. She could barely see the driveway over the top of Mom’s Climbing Blaze, the shower of red roses nearly hiding Jake’s SUV as he guided it forward at a slow pace, as if expecting the worst.

She couldn’t see through the glare on the windshield as the Jeep hugged the lazy curve of driveway along the edge of the lawn, but she imagined Jake was watching the road out of the corner of his eye and keeping a close watch on the moose.

All was well. The wild animal stayed crunching away at his diminishing pile of grain, his jowls working overtime. It looked as if the Jeep was out of danger for the time being, so she hit the button and the garage door groaned upward.

Jake’s vehicle was right outside, waiting as the door lifted the last bit. The glare on the windshield had lessened and she could see his silhouette behind the wheel. He was tall. Now that she had a chance to think about it, she remembered looking at the upper span of his chest when she’d stood facing him.

He was really tall, she amended. At least six, six-one.

The vehicle rolled to a stop and she hit the button again. The garage door hid the moose from sight. It didn’t hurt a girl to dream, Rachel decided as she backed through the threshold that led through the utility room and into the kitchen, sizing up the man.

He definitely looked like a beef-and-potatoes guy. Maybe she’d take another pass through the freezer and find that roast she knew was in there—

The vehicle’s door opened, but it wasn’t Jake’s door. It was the one directly behind it. What? That didn’t make any sense. Jake was still clearly sitting behind the wheel. She could see him perfectly through the windshield with the dome light backlighting him. He sat soldier-straight and commando-powerful.

There was someone else with him? Her brother hadn’t mentioned a second buddy coming in for the wedding that she’d have to feed, too. Not that she minded, but… Her thoughts stopped dead at the sight of a little girl climbing down from the back of the SUV.

Jake had a daughter? She was the cutest little thing, all spindly arms and legs and a cloud of chocolate-brown curls. She had to be about seven or eight and stylish in her matching pink-and-teal shirt and shorts set. Matching sandals with tassels decorated her feet, and a pair of pink barrettes were stuck into her thick, beautiful hair. Costume jewelry dangled from her wrist and her neck, and she held a tattered purple bunny that had seen much better days.

Oh, she was a sucker for kids. Suddenly it made sense that she’d found the Popsicles. It was as if one of God’s angels was giving her a clue. Now there was a treat waiting for this adorable little girl. Determined to be friends, Rachel gave a little wave. “Hi there. I’m Rachel.”

The little girl stared with big, wide, shy eyes and ducked back behind her open door for safety.

I know just how you feel. Rachel had been shy every day of her life. Her heart squeezed for the little girl, who had to be feeling out of her element.

Then Jake emerged, shrinking the cavernous size of the triple garage with his sheer magnetic presence. He held out one big hand, gentle despite his size. “C’mon, Sally baby. This is Ben’s sister I told you about.”

“’Kay.” She took Jake’s hand and let him lead her through the garage. The little girl looked resigned and not happy.

Determined to cheer her up, Rachel offered the child her friendliest smile, but the girl intentionally sent her gaze upward, looking around at the various shelves of tools, lawn stuff, Ben’s old hunting gear and every imaginable outdoor activity stored overhead in the rafters—from the canoe to the cross-country skis.

Jake, however, did return her grin. He had a nice grin, one that softened the hard granite of his chiseled face and etched dimples into his lean cheeks. “I don’t know if Ben mentioned I had Sally in tow with me. I had planned on picking her up after the wedding, but things didn’t work out that way.”

Oh, divorce, Rachel guessed. Shared custody. That couldn’t be easy for anyone involved. “No problem. Life rarely works out the way you think it will. I was just about to defrost a roast.” If I can find it. “So that will be enough for all three of us. Sally, may I ask you something?”

The little girl nodded, her pretty emerald eyes wide and somber.

“Do you and your bunny want to help me pick out what kind of potatoes to make?”

Another shy nod.

“Excellent. Are you a mashed-potatoes kind of girl? Or do you like Tater Tots?”

“Tater Tots!” Some of her reserve diminished, and she hugged her bunny tight. “Uncle Jake don’t know how to make ’em right.”

Uncle Jake? Rachel shot a glance at the unlikely uncle closing his door and nudging the child along in front of him. “It takes talent to know how to get Tater Tots just right. Do you like ’em soft and crumbly or crisp?”

“A little crisp but still kinda all soft in the middle, but not so it’s still cold.”

“Me, too.” Since it was hard not to like a man who took the time to spend with his niece, especially on his limited stateside visit, she’d ask his opinion, too. “Are you a Tater Tot man or a mashed?”

“Strictly French fry, but I can make an exception.”

“Maybe I can rustle up a few fries for the man who defended us from the dangerous wild moose. A man needs a reward.”

Okay, he could tell when someone was amused at his expense. “You could have told me the thing was more of a pet than a wild dangerous animal. I did ask.”

“He’s not a pet. He’s just…” She shrugged.

“Got your number.” It wasn’t too hard to see that Rachel was a genuinely nice person. “Okay, I went a little commando. I had Sally to protect. She’s been through enough.”

“I’m not blaming you, City Boy. I just wondered if you had fun playing with poor Bullwinkle.”

“Not so much.”

He liked her. He liked the twinkle of humor in her eye. That she was as friendly as could be without batting her eyes at him like a marriage-minded woman. He did not have a great neon sign pasted to his forehead that blinked, “Not married!” He liked that she was easygoing and that she was pretty up close. Very pretty.

And here he’d been dreading this. He’d originally planned to fly in tomorrow morning, bright and early, and do the wedding and fly home, but Sally had changed things. Here he was in town early, and Ben wasn’t here to meet him.

He didn’t blame his friend. Instead of a rehearsal dinner, the groom had reservations at one of the nicest restaurants in the area to spend a quiet pre-wedding evening with his bride-to-be, and there was no way Jake wanted him to cancel that. But when Ben had suggested this, Jake had felt obligated to accept this invitation. A home-cooked meal would be good for Sally.

Her hand in his felt so small and held on so tightly. There was a surprising strength in her fingers—or maybe it was need. The way she clung to him was an undeniable reminder of the promises he’d just finished making to her. From the day she’d been born, she’d had a sweet little spot in his heart and now that he was the only one left to look after her, he was only more committed. How he was going to keep those promises to her, he didn’t know. Not when his job took him to dangerous corners of the world and kept him there.

Rachel had disappeared through a connecting door on the other side of a laundry room—it was a nice set-up. A closet lined one wall and a washer and dryer covered the wall on his right. Through the window he caught a glimpse of the backyard filled with lush green grass and blooming red roses and big yellow-faced flowers in tidy beds. Trees stood on the far side of the lawn, and that’s all he saw before he tugged Sally into the kitchen after their hostess.

“Let me get you something,” she said from across a spacious country kitchen.

Nice. He didn’t know why he thought so, maybe it was because he’d been on Temporary Duty way too long. Home had become a desert base with a tent over his head and food served on a tray.

Everything smelled so good. The floor of fresh pine and the air like cookies. A chipped coffee mug sat on the granite counter stuffed with red roses from the vines outside. Their old-fashioned fragrance took him back to his grandma’s house when he was a kid, where he ran wild during the summers on their San Fernando Valley farm. Maybe that was why he felt at ease with the pretty woman in the kitchen, who looked as if she were in her element as she yanked open the fridge door.

“We’ve got milk, soda, juice. What’s your pleasure?” She looked to Sally first. “I have strawberry soda.”

“Strawberry!” Sally gave a little leap, taking his hand with her. “Can I, Uncle Jake?” She beamed up at him with those big green eyes and he was helpless. They both knew it.

“Sure.” He’d have to figure out how to say no to her eventually; being a parent was a whole world different than being an uncle.

Sorrow stabbed him, swift and unexpected. He couldn’t get used to Jeanette being gone. He dealt with death a lot in the military; he’d lost close friends and team members and soldiers he’d admired. But to lose his sister crossing the street on the way to her office, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair to Sally.

“I’ve got two cartoon cups to pick from.” Rachel held the cupboard door open wide, displaying characters he didn’t even recognize.

He hadn’t watched cartoons since he was a kid. But Sally lit up and chose one with a big dinosaur on it while Rachel took the other one. She popped one can, filled it, foam and all, to the top of the plastic cup and set it on the round oak table to his right.

It was strange, this big kitchen and eating space, with kids’ school pictures framed on the walls—the clothes and hairstyles from decades ago. Through the picture window next to the table he saw half of an old-fashioned metal swing set and slide, in good repair, as if someone had painted it not too long ago. “Ben didn’t say. Do you live here alone?”

“Yep. It’s way too big for me, but the memories here are good ones. What would you like to drink?”

“Ben said you were a waitress. I can see you’re probably an excellent one.”

“It’s a hard job, tougher than people realize. But it’s the family business, and I like it because I get to make all the chocolate milk shakes I want.” She waited, hand on the refrigerator door, one slim brow lifted in a silent question. “What’ll it take to wet your whistle, sir?”

“If you’ve got root beer in there, I’ll be eternally in your debt.”

“I’ll hold you to that, soldier.” With a wink, she reached inside the well-organized fridge and withdrew two more soda cans.

Before she could snag him one of those breakable glasses neatly organized in the cupboard on the shelf above the cartoon cups, he stole the can out of her hand. “I’m not used to being waited on. Put me to work.”

“Work?” She looked him up and down, taking in the strong and capable look of him. “Don’t tempt me, or I’ll take you up on it.”

He perused her big pink slippers and her comfy clothes and the fact that she hadn’t had time to do up her hair into anything remotely involving hair spray and gels or whatever it was women put in their hair. That said everything. “Did you have other plans before Ben strong-armed you into doing this tonight?”

“Plans with the couch and an old movie. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow night. Or the next night.” She poured the contents of her can into the plastic mug, and the sweet-smelling pink liquid fizzed. “Wait!”

He had hold of the cup the instant she stopped pouring.

“Hey, what are you doing taking my strawberry soda?”

“What? Do you think I’m stealing it from you?”

“That’s what it looks like. I call things like I see ’em.”

“And what, that look of outrage is because you didn’t know you were letting a strawberry soda bandit into your house?”

“That, and you’re setting a very bad example for Sally.”

“Is that true, Sal?” He sent a wink to his niece, who’d seated herself at the table and was sipping from the cup with both hands.

Her solemn gaze met his over the wide rim. Strawberry soda stained her mouth as she said the words of betrayal. “Stealing’s wrong, Uncle Jake.”

“Hey, I’m one of the good guys. Or at least that’s what they tell me.” And because he knew what it was like to put in a long hard workweek, he wasn’t about to give up the glass of soda. “How about I wait on you? You said you had a date with the couch?”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“I never joke, ma’am. I’m an air force commando. Duty is my name.”

“Yeah, yeah, you forget I have a brother who spouts that macho stuff all the time.” She waved him off as if she knew better, as if she had his number.

Fine. The trouble was, now that he wasn’t worrying about a rampaging moose, he could get a real good look at her. He liked what he saw. She was petite, there was no other word for her. Delicate, for lack of a better word. She had the clearest, creamiest skin he’d ever seen, and the gentlest manner.

A real nice woman. He wasn’t about to impose on her like a deadbeat. No, he wasn’t that kind of man, although he read her look of skepticism loud and clear. That was okay. He wasn’t bothered by it.

“Follow me,” he said, trusting that she would.




Chapter Three


She did follow him. Jake monitored the pad of her slippers against the carpet a good two to three paces behind him. “That’s it. Keep coming.”

“I want my strawberry soda back in the kitchen where it belongs.” She didn’t have a sharp voice or an angry edge. No, she was all softness and warm humor, as if he were amusing her to the nth degree.

He wasn’t used to softness and humor, not in his life of duty and service. So, he thought he’d enjoy the chance to amuse her some more. “Is there a house rule about keeping all food and beverages in the kitchen?”

“There is, as a matter of fact.”

“Funny. I didn’t see a sign.”

“It has to be a sign?”

“Sure. If it’s not written down, it’s not a law I have to follow.”

“Yeah? Then for you I’ll make an exception.”

He liked the rumbling music of her chuckle. It was an appealing sound, one a man could get used to. Nice.

And so was the house, he thought as he stepped inside the sizeable living room. Spacious. Comfortable. It was the kind of place a guy could get used to putting his feet up on that scuffed coffee table that sat in the middle of a big sink-into-me sectional. The TV was big and new, and in the winter this would sure be a great spot to sit and watch football with a fire in the gray rock fireplace.

He used an old television guide as a coaster and left the drink on the coffee table within easy reach. “Sit there. Put your feet up.”

“That would be rude considering I’m supposed to be cooking you dinner.”

He held out his hand, palm up and waited for her to take it. “C’mon. I’m the guest, right? So humor me.”

“My mother taught me to be wary of men wanting to be humored.”

“Sounds like your mama raised you right. And so did mine. It may be hard to believe to look at me, but I’ve got a few manners.” He shifted closer to her with his hand still out, still waiting. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to do what I ask? Or am I gonna have to make ya?”

“Men.” Rachel sized up the commando in her living room, with his dazzling grin and his hand held out, palm up, waiting for her to place her fingers there. “Suddenly I remember why it is that I’m single.”

“Those bunny slippers?”

He clearly thought he was a comedian, but he wasn’t nearly as funny as he thought. “No, judging by my slippers you might be misled to think men have avoided me on purpose.”

“I don’t think that, believe me.”

“But it’s been my choice. Most men are bossy.”

“We’re made that way.”

“Sadly.” He didn’t seem the least bit sorry about it. He was incorrigible, and she liked that in a man, too. He had nice eyes—kind ones—and she was a sucker for a good-hearted man. How was she going to ever say no to this one?

Willpower, she directed herself. “I’m supposed to be the hostess. You’ve flown all this way to be Ben’s best man. The least I can do is talk you into sitting down and putting up your feet.”

“Good luck. But let me warn you, I’m stubborn.”

“I’m stubborn, too.” There was no way she was going to give in to the temptation to place her fingertips on his big rough palm.

Oh yes, she wanted to. His palm was wide and relaxed, and calluses roughened the skin at the base of his fingers. He worked hard. She liked that in a man too.

His hands had scars—not big ones, just nicks that had long healed over, and those calluses. She imagined him fast-roping from a helicopter or carrying wounded on a litter. Essentially male, wholly masculine, everything a man ought to be.

And suddenly she felt it in the pit of her stomach. A little tingle of anxiety. Her shyness seemed to rear up and leave her speechless. It was one thing to have her brother’s military buddy drop by. It was another to be alone with a smart, brave and warm-hearted soldier.

If only she could untie the knot her tongue had gotten itself into and say something wonderful to make him laugh some more. To show off the dimples in his hard, carved cheeks.

“I’m waiting.” He arched one brow, but he wasn’t intimidating in the least. He should be—he was a big man, and the slightest movement made muscles ripple beneath his sun-bronzed skin.

But he was a gentle giant down deep, Rachel was sure of it. “How about you and Sally sit down with me? We’ll find something on the tube that all three of us can enjoy and after a while, I’ll sneak into the kitchen and start supper.”

“There’ll be no sneaking on my watch. I’ve got a sharp eye.” His hand hovered in a silent question.

And she answered just as quietly by placing her fingers in the center of his palm. Wow. It was all she could think the instant they touched. An energy jolted through her like a lightning strike—or heaven’s touch.

She felt seared all the way to her soul. It was as if her entire central nervous system short-circuited—she couldn’t seem to talk. She could barely manage to be coordinated enough to sit down.

Wow, was all her poor fried brain could think. Wow. Wow. Wow. Lord, he can’t be the one. He can’t be. Look how he acted as if nothing had happened. It probably hadn’t on his end. She searched his clear dark eyes and the calm steady way he moved away from her with sheer athletic grace as he ambled out of sight.

She’d read about moments like this, that instant punch of something extra that said this man was special. Above the ordinary. Meant to last. Okay, she read inspirational romances one after another. She always had her nose in one, but she’d never believed, never thought once that it could happen to her.

Not that it was a life-changing moment. It was just a snap of something extra, making her more aware of this man’s goodness than others she’d come across.

Why? He couldn’t be the one. He lived on the other side of the country and he worked in faraway places on other continents. Plus, he was leaving after the wedding.

He’s not the one. She was imagining all this, right? She was tired, she hadn’t eaten since she’d been able to work in an early sandwich before the lunchtime rush. She was feeling the weight of being a bridesmaid for the umpteenth time. Not that she minded, no way. And especially because this was her brother’s wedding.

But she wanted to be a bride. She wanted the real thing, a sweet storybook wedding with the man she would love for all time. That’s why she was feeling this…wishful thinking. Pretty powerful, but wishful thinking all the same.

The pleasant rumble of his voice from the kitchen drew her attention. It was like a tingling warmth in her heart, and she’d never felt that before either. She could hear Sally’s answer and then the faint scrape of the wood chair on tile.

That’s why I feel so wowed by him. It all made sense now. She loved a man who was good with children. And his niece was a cutie, that was for sure. It was sweet he was spending time with her. And now that she knew why she was so taken with him, it would be easier to keep things in perspective.

“Hey, Rachel.” Jake rounded the corner with Sally at his side, her small hand engulfed by his huge one. “Mind if she uses the facilities?”

“First door on the right.” Rachel stood, but Jake waved her back and deftly disappeared beyond the edge of the fireplace. In a few seconds, a door closed down the hall.

What she really ought to do was to take another crack at finding that roast. The soda would keep—it was fizzing and bubbling merrily in the cartoon cup.

As for her aching feet, she could get a few more hours out of them, she thought as she cut through the dining room and dashed down the basement steps. Her guests would be busy for a few moments, and if she could just find that roast—

“Running away from me?” Jake’s baritone was filled with friendly, warm amusement.

Good thing she wasn’t affected. “Not running any farther than the freezer. Why don’t you help yourself to the remote? I don’t mean to be a bad hostess, I’m just digging stuff out for supper.”

“Suppose I help you with that?” His steps sounded behind her on the stairs.

“Oh, I can get things just fine.” Actually, what she needed was someone who was tall enough to reach all the way to the bottom of the freezer. Was she going to admit that to him? No. “I’ll be right up, okay?”

No answer was forthcoming, although the approaching rasp of sneakers on the cement floor trailed her to the freezer room. Rachel yanked on the light.

And there he was, he’d caught up to her, and let out a breath of awe. “Wow. Did you do all this canning?”

“My sisters lent a hand.” She supposed the floor-to-ceiling shelving and all the jars sitting on them did look impressive. “We like to can.”

“I’ll say.”

“It’s something our mom used to do. She’d get all of us to help her, even Amy when she was just a preschooler. We’d all peel and cook and fill jars.” She reached to open the freezer lid, but his hand was already there, lifting the lid and exposing the icy contents to the glare of the light.

That’s how she felt, illuminated in the deep reaches of her self. How could talking about the preserving jars on the shelf do that? Simple, she realized. “It was everything good in our childhoods. Maybe that sounds corny, but the memories are good ones. The kind that really matter.”

“That make you who you are?”

His comment surprised her, this tough commando who had lobbed a rock like a grenade in the driveway as if at war. He was understanding, and she decided she liked him even more. “When my sisters and I do our yearly frenzy of making jams and canning, it always brings us back, makes us part again of that time in our childhoods when Mom was alive and her warm laughter seemed to bounce around the kitchen like sunbeams.”

Sometimes it hurt to remember, but it hurt even more to forget. And so she remembered. “When Dad would come home with packed meals from the diner because he knew Mom would have been so caught up she’d have forgotten the time. The whole house would smell like the strawberry jelly simmering on the stove, or the bushels of fresh peaches we’d have spent all day sitting around the table slicing.”

“Ben said you lost your folks when you were young.”

“It was like the sun going out one day.” And that was the part of remembering that hurt most, like a spear through the heart. “But Paige was just sixteen then and she took care of us.”

“You were alone?”

“We didn’t want to be split up, and no one could take on the four of us.” Well, the spear remained lodged in her heart and the past was just going to keep hurting if she kept talking about it. She turned her attention—and the conversation—to the freezer. “You wouldn’t want to reach down with those long arms of yours and dig around for a roast, would you?”

“A roast. Why, ma’am, I’d do nearly anything for a good roast. We don’t get those much in the deserts where I’ve been spending my time.” He leaned down as if to thrust his arm deep into the frosty mists, but stopped in mid-plunge. “I can’t believe this. You have my absolute favorite fish sticks. I mean, these are the best.”

“I love those, too. They’re the best with the tartar we make at the diner. I’ve got a jar—”

“Forget the roast. Let’s whip up a cookie sheet of these, bake up some Tater Tots and I’ll be happy as a— Oh boy, you’ve got real apple pie in here.”

“Homemade. If you want—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He loaded up with the pie and the fish sticks before closing the lid. “You really don’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been on my feet all day. Tell you what, how long are you staying in town tomorrow?”

“Uh… Don’t know. We’re on a standby flight back to LA. I’ve got the last of the estate stuff to settle, it’s a long process.” The look on his face, one of grief, one of bewilderment kept her from turning off the light.

Estate stuff? Rachel’s stomach twisted. Before she could ask, Jake reached up and snapped off the light, leaving them in shadows. “Sally’s mom died—my sister. Hit by a bus on the way to work one morning.”

No. That poor little girl. Rachel’s heart wrung in sympathy. She knew just what that felt like for a child to lose a mother. “And her father?”

“Nonexistent. Ran off long ago and never wanted to be responsible. No one can even find him now. That’s why I have her.” He took off abruptly, speaking over his shoulder, sounding normal but his movements looked jerky and tense in the half-light drifting down the staircase. “That’s why she’s with me. If I hadn’t taken her when I arrived home, then she would have had to stay in foster care while I came here. And she asked me not to leave her. So I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you brought her.” Well, that was about the saddest thing she’d heard in a long time. “How long was she alone while you were in the desert?”

“Nearly seven weeks. That’s a long time.”

“Too long.” Rachel’s quiet agreement said everything.

I wish I could have gotten to her sooner. There was no getting around that fact. Or the logistical problems of hunting him down in the middle of a covert deployment and getting him back to the States again.

Jake felt the weight of impossible guilt, dragging him downward. He’d done all he could, but it didn’t change the fact that Sally had been left alone to grieve in a stranger’s home, under a stranger’s care, and she wasn’t the same little girl he remembered. It was as if something essentially her had died too, of sorrow. How was he going to fix it for her? He didn’t have a single answer.

Maybe the Lord would give him one, since he was all out of ideas. All out of everything.

“I’ll do what I can to make sure she has some fun,” Rachel said.

So much understanding lit her voice, and it struck Jake like a bullet to the heart. He hadn’t registered his worries about bringing Sally—about everything. He didn’t want to go there. He would handle it, things would work out. He was Special Forces trained to assess, adapt and overcome. He’d succeeded at every training exercise, every task and every mission. But a child was not a mission.

He headed up the stairs, box in hand, not sure if he could look Rachel in the eye. “I figured that since Ben had a nephew about Sally’s age, she might not be too out of place.”

“Oh, of course not. I happen to be in charge of the kids’ activities. You know, receptions are so boring for the little people. All that sitting still and vows and kisses and then the manners at the sit-down meal. So we’re going to have our own party outside. I’ll take good care of Sally for you. I’m sure you and Ben will want to hang out for a while at the reception.”

Jake nearly missed the last step up. “I hadn’t thought about pawning her off on anyone. That wasn’t what I meant—”

“I know. But I was simply informing you of our plans. If you want her to be with the other kids, we’re going to have a lot of fun.” Rachel shut the door and followed him to the counter where he’d dropped off the fish box. “We’ll have games and races and our own cake. We’re having hot dogs and burgers. It’s going to be such a blast, I can’t wait.”

Ben was right. His sister Rachel was the nicest person ever. And she didn’t seem to know it, didn’t seem aware that she was as incredibly beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside. Her loveliness shone outward like sunlight through clouds, and it dazzled.

He had to turn away, blinking hard, affected and he didn’t know why. He was used to keeping his feelings under lock and key. Why his emotions were staging a breakout, he didn’t know, but he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Rachel clicked on the oven and there was a clatter as she dug a cookie sheet out of the bottom cabinets. Her “Oops!” was good-natured as she put away the other racks and cookie sheets that had tumbled out with the first one.

She had a patience about her, an inner harmony that he admired. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she was probably great with kids. “I’m sure Sally would like to hang out with you tomorrow. Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” She rose, a petite willow of a woman who moved like poetry, like grace, like all that was good in the world.

It was nice, it was normal. He wasn’t used to nice and normal, he’d been away from a normal life for so long, he didn’t feel as if he quite fit anymore. It was heartening to see, it gave a man pause, to watch a woman in a kitchen preparing supper and to know all was safe here, all was right in this tiny piece of the world.

Maybe he could lay down his responsibilities, the constant on-guard duty he carried, and rest for a short while. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, but it washed over him like a warm rain.

“Jake, I’ll whip you up some homemade fries,” she said as she hauled real potatoes out of the pantry. “It’ll only take a second. Sally is welcome to have her soda in the living room. Why don’t I take that in to her before I start getting busy in here?”

His throat closed entirely. Unable to know what emotions were whirling around free inside him, and just as unable to speak, he held up his hand, stopping her with what he hoped wasn’t too harsh a gesture and grabbed Sally’s cup and his soda can.

He walked out of the kitchen and didn’t look back, but he swore he left a part of himself standing there, awed by the woman and her kindness.




Chapter Four


It always made Rachel happy to be in the kitchen. With the hum of the TV drifting in through the dining room, she popped the tray of fish sticks and Tater Tots into the oven and plunked the small hill of hand-cut potatoes into the deep-fryer. Cooking was comforting, maybe because she associated it with her mom and dad.

Few things in a day made her happier than having someone to cook for, even temporarily. The fatigue that had built on her in layers throughout the day began to fade. As she set the timer, a new burst of energy lifted her up. The fryer’s oil sizzled and snapped and the sound was a friendly accompaniment while she dug through the shelving inside the refrigerator’s door and picked out the appropriate condiments.

After loading up a tray with napkins and flatware, she set out for the living room. The rise and fall of voices from the television grew louder, drawing her closer. On the couch in front of the colorful screen and washed in the glowing light, the big man and little girl sat side by side, intent on the old family movie.

Wow. It was awesome Sally had an uncle like Jake who would take her in without question. Otherwise, she’d hate to think of what the child might face. She’d been exposed to that fear as a kid. But probably Sally had it worse losing her home and having to move across the country to the house where Jake was stationed. While Sally battled her grief over her mom, at least she had Jake to love and protect her, to keep her safe from this world that often did not think of children.

Rachel set the tray in the center of the coffee table, leaning just right so she wouldn’t block their view of the tube.

Jake stirred from his TV watching. “I ought to get off my duff and help you.”

“There’s nothing left to do.”

Heaven save me from this man. It would be nothing at all to simply fall fast and hard in love with him. Well, not real love, that was something that deepened forever between a man and woman, but the initial tumble, that wouldn’t take too much if she kept seeing more of his good heart.

Nope, she needed to handle things from here by herself. It was a matter of self-preservation. “You stay right there with Sally. She needs your company. I’ll be back with supper.”

“You eat in here?”

“Why not? It’s Friday. It’s the tradition in this house.”

As she turned her back on the cheerful movie flashing across the screen, it was the past and its cherished memories that came with her. This was why she loved living in this house so much. The four of them together as kids, crowded onto the two couches that used to be in this room, pushing and shoving and laughing in good humor so that it was hard to listen to the movie.

Dad would be manning the grill outside if it was summer, and he’d pop his head through the slider door and shout at them to stop hitting one another. As she set up the TV trays, Mom would be laughing, reminding him that he was the one who wanted four kids, remember?

As often as not, one of them would jump off the couches to help her. Soon their favorite meal of cheese-burgers and Tater Tots would be served up on the trays, they’d all be eating and watching the TV. All through the show, Dad would make funny comments meant to make them all howl with laughter.

Yeah, she thought as she whipped the fries from the hot grease, this was the reason she hadn’t settled down yet. Because she hadn’t settled. How could she want anything less than the family life she’d had growing up? One day, the good Lord willing, she would know that brand of happiness again.

Until then, it was nice to dish up plates with everything just right for her guests. Tater Tots done just right—crispy on the outside and warm and chewy on the inside. Fresh fries still steaming, both heaped on half of the good stoneware she’d gotten for Christmas from her sisters, and plenty of golden crispy fish sticks. Small bowls of coleslaw, made fresh at the diner that morning, added the required vegetables to the meal.

The loaded tray made hardly a clatter as she carried it through the dark dining room and into the living room where the bold animation on the screen flashed enough color to light her way. Careful not to disturb the movie-viewing, she handed off Sally’s plate, setting it right in front of her on the coffee table and adding the little bowl of coleslaw. She meant to circle around and slip Jake’s plate onto the other side, but he held out his hand. “If that tastes as good as it smells, I’m gonna be the most grateful man in Montana.”

“You really must be hungry. To be the most grateful man over a pile of fish sticks.” She avoided his fingers as she gave him his plate heaped with steaming-hot food and then slid the bowl of slaw onto the coffee table before he could reach.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a home-cooked meal?”

“This isn’t home cooked. It’s straight from the freezer.” It was funny he thought so, though.

“These fries look homemade.”

“They are, but, well, the rest used to be frozen. But, hey, as long as you’re happy.”

“Happy? I’ve spent the last two years nearly straight in the desert. Eating MREs and mess-tent food, and let me tell you, this is the best. Just the best.” He sounded as if she’d set an expensive, four-star meal in front of him.

“I’m glad you think so.” That was what mattered. If Ben’s best buddy was happy, then she was, too. “If your flight doesn’t work out, I’ll make you that roast dinner tomorrow.”

“Deal. You want to say grace?”

“You’re the guest.” She unloaded her plate onto the corner of the coffee table and set the tray out of the way. “Please, you go right ahead.” She was pretty interested in what he’d say. A tough guy, just like her brother, would probably be to the point. Her brother’s favorite prayer, she guessed: “Good food, good God. Amen.”

Jake’s head bowed and his big hands steepled. Definitely not what she expected, but she liked what she saw—the sincere tilt of his profile as his eyes drifted shut.

“Dear Heavenly Father, “he began in his steady baritone. “Thank you for the blessings we find at the end of this day. That Sally and I are together. We have had a safe journey from California and a peaceful solution to Bullwinkle’s attack. And most of all, thank you, Lord, for bringing us a new friend in Rachel, and I’m especially grateful for the fish sticks.”

His genuineness sounded somehow richer when mixed with his gentle humor, and as Rachel sat with her head bowed, she sneaked a glance at Jake through her eyelashes. He looked totally at ease and comfortable in prayer, and it was clear he had a solid relationship with the Lord.

If he hadn’t been sitting next to her on the couch, all one-hundred-percent flesh-and-blood man, she would have figured him to be a daydream she’d woven of the perfect guy. A courageous warrior who served his country. An honest man of strong faith. Kind to children. Funny and handsome and…

Whoa, there, Rache. He’s just visiting. As she managed to get out an “Amen” without sounding too distracted, she opened her eyes all the way, unfolded her hands and tried to remind herself that Jake wasn’t looking for romance. He was leaving for good after the wedding and she’d never see him again.

Too bad. It was hard not to feel disappointment or a little bit wistful as Jake helped himself to generous spoonfuls of their secret-family-recipe tartar sauce, dragged four fries through it, and took a bite. He moaned even before he started chewing.

“I should have added the tartar to the list of blessings,” he quipped, looking about as handsome as any man could with those dimples carved into his lean, sun-browned cheeks.

Her heart gave a little tumble. Of admiration, she firmly told herself, and not of interest. She fastened her gaze firmly on the TV screen and did her best not to look at Jake and his dimples.

Impossible. He leaned close so that their shoulders were almost touching. Only a scant hairbreadth of air stood between the curve of her shoulder and the hard line of his arm. “The tartar’s even better on the fish sticks. I owe you, Rachel.”

“Well, I didn’t plan on charging for the meal,” she joked.

And brought out the warm rumbling chuckle. “I’m doing the dishes and I don’t want a single argument from you. Got that, ma’am?”

“Sorry. You’re outranked.”

“How can you outrank me? You’re not a commanding officer. You’re not even in the armed services.”

“But I have the power to take away the tartar sauce.” How she could banter so easily with this man, she didn’t know.

She only knew that her chest and heart felt warm when Jake gave her a smile with those full-wattage dimples and leaned close to her ear, so close, his breath tickled hot against the curve of her ear. “Go ahead and try.”

“Okay. I will. You watch out, soldier boy.” She dunked a Tater Tot into the pile of tartar on her plate, surprised how she didn’t feel shy at all. It was as if she’d been bantering with this man all of her life.



The brilliance of the September sunset came like peace to the evening. Rachel paused at the sliding door just to take in the awe of magenta streaks painting the sky and bold purple splashes staining the underbellies of the clouds. The colors glowed so brightly in the off-blue sky that the shadows streaking across the back lawn from the tall stand of trees at the property line were amethyst and an incredible rose light graced them.

Why this evening’s sunset seemed particularly glorious, she couldn’t rightly say. Especially when she’d been so beat after a long rough workweek and those last-minute, nerve-racking wedding preparations. Maybe it was the fish sticks and Tater Tots, which were one of those childhood favorites Mom used to make for them when Dad was working late at the diner. Good memories from her childhood always heartened her.

But having Jake and Sally here in this house had lifted her up, too. Having a child in this house, watching an animated movie and now swinging on the swing set in the big backyard stirred a longing inside her. Cooking for a man and child, even people she would never see again after tomorrow, made her wish for her own husband and child.

Maybe it was that over-thirty thing—the biological clock everyone talked about—but watching Jake give Sally a hard push on the swing, sending the girl soaring up high, made her realize how lonely her life was.

Sure, she had a great family, she had a great job and she loved this life God had given her, but her heart was lonely for a man, someone strong and kind and good like Jake, and a little child to love and care for.

She knew if Jake and Sally hadn’t come tonight, the sounds of laughter wouldn’t be shimmering like the rosy light in the air. She would have come home, collapsed in front of the TV and eaten leftovers from the diner, then she would have done a few loads of laundry, caught up on the housework and probably started watering the yard. All the while the big house would have been echoing around her with the memories of family happiness in the past and none for the future.

She was beginning to think the Lord had forgotten about her deepest, most precious prayers. Or maybe He meant for her always to be alone. She hadn’t minded it so much because she’d been so busy helping her sister Amy take care of her son Westin; having a nephew to dote on had filled her heart and her life enough that she didn’t hurt for her own family so much.

And now, Amy had gone and gotten married, which was a great blessing to their family. She’d found a good man who cherished her and Westin, and was always eager to help with anything the family needed. Amy’s new husband Heath spent a lot of time with Westin, and while Rachel was utterly thankful for that, she didn’t see Westin as much.

Why tonight the loneliness felt so keen, like the crisp edge of light too brilliant to look at, she didn’t know. Only she had tears burning behind her eyes and a pain like a blade slicing her heart, and there was no reason for it. Not when she had so much already in her life.

Jake gave Sally another push and paused to watch his niece shrieking with delight as she swept up toward the sky. “Rachel McKaslin. Have I told you why you’re my most favorite person?”

“It wouldn’t be because I’m holding grape Popsicles, would it?”

“Pretty much. You just know where to hit a guy.”

“Oh, you’re wrong there. I never hit. So, are you telling me that there’s truth to the old saying? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

“I don’t know about the heart, but a grape Popsicle will put you at the top of my list.” He stepped back in time with Sally’s swing as she zoomed backward between them.

There was something awesome about a big tough man being tender with a child. Rachel waited tongue-tied as he gave Sally a big push.

The little girl squealed with joy. “Are those grape?” she shouted as she swept backward between them.

Rachel managed to nod, and the fact that she couldn’t seem to speak didn’t matter as Sally dug the heels of her little sandals into the grass to slow the swing.

“Is that for me?”

“Yep. I hope you like grape.”

“It’s only like my very most favorite!”

Rachel’s heart melted at the sight of the little girl, an orphan and grieving the loss of her parent. Finding the Popsicles in the crowded freezer had seemed like a small thing at the time, and yet Rachel could see God working in her life as clearly as the tentative grin on the little girl’s sweet face. “Grape is my favorite, too. Here you go. Be careful, because it’s already melting.”

Sally took the plastic bowl eagerly with one hand and grabbed hold of the wooden stick handles with the other. She’d been such a quiet little girl until now, more of a shadow than a child, and it was good to see the hint of the child Sally must have been before her mother’s death.

And because she knew exactly how that felt, she added a silent prayer. Dear Father, I know that you’re watching over her. Please keep watching over her.

When she opened her eyes, she realized Jake had stepped away from the swing and was sitting on the closest picnic table bench, watching her with serious eyes.

It was as if in that brief moment he could see right through her to the places that mattered and held the greatest truths. Her heart skipped a beat and her soul brightened the way sunshine brightens the day after passing clouds.

In that moment it was as if the earth stilled and time halted and she saw the man he was; she saw beyond the warrior and her brother’s friend and Sally’s uncle. Jake was no longer a stranger. She couldn’t say exactly why; it was only something she could feel. Like faith. Or like hope.

She could sense the heart of the man, his integrity and character and strength. And his goodness.

He folded his strong arms over his broad chest. “Come join me.”

That sounded like the best idea ever. Her feet were moving her forward before she made the conscious decision. “Sally seems to be having a good time. I’m glad you brought her.”

He took the bowl she offered him. “Being here seems to have done her a world of good. I haven’t seen her smile since I came to pick her up. Now I owe you.”

“For what?” She eased onto the far end of the bench. “I didn’t do anything. Just made supper and apple pie and now I handed her a Popsicle.”

“Ben told me you were humble, too. Not just nice and sweet and funny—”

“My brother is biased, plus he spends most of his time far away from here. You know that. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and dulls the memory of a person’s faults.”

“Sure, okay. I don’t buy that.” He bit off the end of his Popsicle. “You are funny.”

“Me? I haven’t said anything funny since you got here. I wish I were funny. You know, like a comedian.”

“Well, you are the only woman I know who wears big pink rabbits on her feet.”

“What?” She stared at her slippers. She was still wearing them? “I’d forgotten all about them.”

“And you’re nice. You could have let your pet moose attack me and Sal.”

“It was tempting.” She slurped the melting goodness off the top of her grape pop. “Like I said, I owed you for saving Ben when he was hurt.”

“He seems to be doing better. They say he’ll be back on base after his honeymoon.”

“He’s pretty psyched about being able to return to active duty.”

“We’re pretty psyched he’s coming back. He might get back to work before I do.” Jake nodded to where Sally sat twirling in the swing while licking the dripping goodness of the iced treat. There was a whole lot he didn’t know how to say. His job wasn’t just any job. He was a para-rescueman; he put his life on the line so that others might live. And he couldn’t do that living near the base and being home every night to take care of Sally.

And yet if he didn’t take her, then there was no one else but social services. He wouldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t. He loved her too much and he could never break the trust his sister had placed in him for Sally’s sake.

Lord, I know this is all in Your plan. So please, show me the way to help Sally through this. Show me what I’m supposed to do with her and for her.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jillian-hart/blessed-vows/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.