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Homefront Holiday
Jillian Hart
A heart full of love for the orphaned boy he saved from a war-torn country? Check. Adoption forms filled out? Check.Yet M.A.S.H. surgeon Mike Montgomery is barely back on U.S. soil when his plans are squashed. Someone else has already petitioned to adopt little Ali: Sarah Alpert, the boy's foster mother–and Mike's former fiancée.Sarah broke his heart, but he won't break hers by sticking around. Until a little boy puts his holiday wish–for the mom and dad of his dreams–into adorable action.




“I don’t know if anyone told you, but I’m adopting Ali,” Sarah said.
A muscle twitched in Mike’s jaw, as if he was unhappy about something, but when he spoke, his baritone was light and easy. “I’m glad for you, Sarah. You’ve wanted a child for a long time.”
I wanted your child. She held back the words with all her might. Her spirit was reaching out, leaning toward him like he was her missing half, and why? The distance between them was so vast, the entire earth could fill it. Longing filled her, and she fought that, too. How had they grown so far apart?
Homecoming Heroes: Saving children and finding love deep in the heart of Texas.
Mission: Motherhood—Marta Perry
July 2008
Lone Star Secret—Lenora Worth
August 2008
At His Command—Brenda Coulter
September 2008
A Matter of the Heart—Patricia Davids
October 2008
A Texas Thanksgiving—Margaret Daley
November 2008
Homefront Holiday—Jillian Hart
December 2008

JILLIAN HART
Jillian Hart grew up on her family’s homestead where she raised cattle, rode horses and scribbled stories in her spare time. After earning her English degree from Whitman College, she worked in travel and advertising before selling her first novel. When Jillian isn’t working on her next story, she can be found puttering in her rose garden, curled up with a good book and spending quiet evenings at home with her family.

Homefront Holiday
Jillian Hart


Special thanks and acknowledgment to Jillian Hart for her contribution to the Homecoming Heroes miniseries.
Be kindly affectioned one to another with
brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.
—Romans 12:10

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 Sixteen
Epilogue
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

Chapter One
It was mid-December and the Coffee Break was busy, but not as busy as the street outside. Sarah Alpert drew her gaze away from the view through the wide glass window, where shoppers hurried about their seasonal tasks, to the little boy seated across the narrow table from her.
Ali. Her heart warmed simply from looking at him. She loved children, which was not surprising given she was a kindergarten teacher. But this one was special. She handed a paper napkin across the red plastic tabletop to her five-year-old foster son and student. “Hey, you have some hot chocolate on your chin.”
He grinned, the charmer he was, showing his heart-tugging grin and the dimple in his left cheek. He scrubbed at the wrong spot on his chin.
Adoration filled her like Texas sunshine. She leaned forward, reaching over to rub at the right spot. Two swipes and the kid was clean. This sweetheart had proven to be the balm her wounded heart had needed. “Are you ready?”
Ali hopped down from his chair. “Yep. Can I call Dr. Mike yet?”
Mike. She tried not to flinch at that name.
“He hasn’t called,” Ali added. “He’s comin’ home, you know.”
“Yes, I heard something like that.”
“’Cuz I tol’ you.”
“About a thousand times.” She managed to keep a smile on her face as she stood. “All right, sunshine, we have errands to do.”
“Me and Dr. Mike are gonna get pizza and do lotsa stuff. We’re buddies.”
Sarah focused on her little boy and pretended he hadn’t brought up Mike. Distraction, that was the key. “Which do you want to do first? Pick out our Christmas lights or mail our Christmas cards?”
“The lights!”
Her heart melted a little more. Already he was her family. She couldn’t wait for the adoption to go through. Then he would be hers. Really and truly hers. “Coat on and zipped up. There’s a cold wind out there.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ali hopped down and his bright red sneakers—his favorite color—hit the floor with a squeak and a thump. His salute was the one Dr. Mike Montgomery had taught him. The two had met when Ali came in as a roadside-bomb casualty to Mike’s MASH unit. The child had been injured, but his mother had been killed. Ali had formed a bond with Mike, and Mike had helped arrange to send Ali to the States for lifesaving surgery.
Her heart twisted with an old pain. She and Mike had ended their engagement a year ago, but losing him would always hurt. She tucked that hurt away the best she could and put what she hoped was a big smile on her face.
“I get that.” The little gentleman he was, Ali grabbed their garbage.
“Thank you.” Sarah unhooked her jacket from the back of her chair and slipped into it, unable to take her eyes off the little boy as he trotted over to the receptacle near the door. He had to go up on tiptoe to dump it.
She hefted the shopping bags from beneath their table, slid her purse strap higher on her shoulder and held out her hand to her foster son. She was thankful every day that he was thriving, after all his losses. His grandfather Marlon, who had lived next door, had passed away last month. And while Ali had little time to get to know his grandfather, it was another loss all the same.
There were still shadows of his grief in his eyes that were always there, even when he smiled. Poor baby. She ran her fingertips through his fine, dark brown hair, hoping to comfort what could not be fixed.
“I get the door for you, Sarah.” Ali trotted ahead of her, his sneakers thumping on the tile. He gave the door a mighty push.
“Thanks, kiddo. You are one strong boy.” She complimented him as she sailed into the crisp overcast day and the busy sidewalk.
“I real strong now.” Ali beamed with pride. His little fingers wrapped around her hand, holding on so tight she could feel his need.
She held on tightly, too.
“Sarah, look!” Ali fastened his deep soulful eyes on a soldier in desert fatigues, who was walking down the sidewalk. The little boy turned on his heels to watch the infantryman stride away. “I’m gonna be a soldier and a doctor, just like Dr. Mike.”
Her knees shook with every step she took. How long did it take a broken heart to mend? How long for regret to fade away? It took all her strength to swallow her sadness and hide every bit of her pain. “You couldn’t pick a better man to be like.”
“I know.” Ali’s confidence was simple and unshakable.
Hers was not so sturdy. Life had not been the same without Mike. She missed him more than she cared to admit. Still, she had done her best to make something of her life without him.
She knew Ali’s next question would be about Dr. Mike, too. The boy was nothing if not persistent. Maybe it was best to try to distract him. “What color house lights should we buy?”
“Red.” He thought a minute, tilting his head to one side. “No, wait. I want blue.”
Sarah smiled. Ali lifted the sadness from her heart. Since this was his first American Christmas—and their first one together—she wanted to do it right. That’s what she had to concentrate on: what mattered to her now.
“Dr. Mike!” Ali ripped his hand from hers and barreled down the sidewalk, darting between families and a group of teenagers. He moved fast for a boy who’d just recovered from open-heart surgery! Sarah leaped after him, bags slapping against her knees as she caught up with him two steps before the busy intersection. She grabbed his hand, but Ali, the good, smart little boy he was, was already stopping on his own.
Before she could drag enough air past the panic clutching her throat and the stitch in her side to set him straight about running off like that, Ali jumped up and down, waving his free hand.
“Dr. Mike! There’s Dr. Mike!”
Sarah squinted across the street through the traffic searching the pedestrians for him. For Mike. It took only one second for her gaze to find him. Perhaps she would always recognize his straight, strong back and wide, dependable shoulders, his short, dark blond hair and that confident, lanky stride.
Mike. Her pulse ground to a halt. All the ways she’d fallen out of love with him paled next to all the reasons she had fallen in love with him. He hadn’t heard Ali’s call above the rush of traffic as he stopped to look at a shop’s window display. She could see his profile now; his handsome face was still the same with that square, honorable jaw and well-cut features.
What a relief it was to see him again. Her toes tingled with happiness, warring impossibly with her sadness. He was back safe, unharmed and whole.
Thank You, Lord. She sent the little prayer up with a piece of her heart. Just because Mike wasn’t hers anymore didn’t mean she couldn’t pray for him. His happiness was more important than her own—even now. She had tried to talk herself out of her feelings, but they hadn’t budged over the last year that he’d been away. Perhaps because of the way they had broken up right before he had gone off to war.
And now that she knew he was back home and unharmed, maybe she could let go of this sorrow. She planted her feet, hitched her purse back up on her shoulder and tightened her hold on Ali’s hand. The light chose that moment to change to yellow and on to red. The traffic slowed and quieted, and Ali’s “Dr. Mike!” must have reached the other side of the street because Mike looked up at the sound of his name. His eyes fastened to hers, just the way they used to do.
It was just nostalgia; that’s what she told herself as she jerked her gaze from his. That’s the only reason she could give to explain the startle in her heart that felt, impossibly, like joy at seeing him again.
I do not love him, she told herself. She wouldn’t let herself again. She wished Mike well and that was all, nothing more. She would walk Ali right over to Mike and prove it to him.
And to herself.

Sarah. Mike stared in disbelief and then in dread as she started heading his way, with Ali’s hand in hers. As she crossed the busy crosswalk, he had time to take her in. She looked different somehow. Her auburn hair was the same deep color and shone like silk in the afternoon sun. She was still as lovely as he’d remembered with her big blue eyes and soft, ready smile. She was wearing the wool coat she’d bought new around this time last year, right before they’d broken up. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly was different, but everything about her appeared a little brighter.
At the back of his mind came a small voice, one he didn’t want to listen to. It was saying She looks so good to you because you missed her so much.
No, that was one voice he could not afford to listen to or encourage. He held his heart firm, dissolving away any lingering emotion. It was over and done with between him and Sarah. What he needed to focus on instead of their past was his little buddy—the boy he’d come to think of as a son.
It was a gift that Ali had come into his life. They’d had an instant connection in triage, when the nurse had called him over with worry in her eyes. Worry for a child caught in the middle of warfare. Ali had become his family over the last five months.
He thought of the paperwork he had on his truck seat, ready for his lawyer. Ali’s adoption papers. He wanted the little boy with everything he had left. This last tour had taken out a big chunk of him, but that didn’t matter now.
“Hello, Mike.” Sarah’s quiet, sweet voice could reach right in and grab hold of his heart if he let it.
“Hello, Sarah.” He couldn’t look at her. Time had not healed his wounds. He squared his shoulders, at a loss. Maybe he ought to just concentrate on Ali. The little dark-haired, dark-eyed boy was running toward him. True joy lit that little face.
“Dr. Mike! You came! You came!”
“Sure I did, buddy. Just like I promised. I didn’t forget you.” All the pain and exhaustion from this last year seemed to fade as the little boy flung out his arms and launched into the air. The world felt right as he caught the little fella in midair and swung him high before snuggling him to his chest.
Thin arms wrapped around Mike’s neck so tight, it hurt. He set the boy on the ground. “Let me get a look at you. You’re gettin’ big.”
“’Cuz I eat my veggies. But not broccoli.” He shook his head. The two of them shared a great mutual dislike of that green vegetable.
“I told Sarah you come.” Ali danced in place he was so happy. “You didn’t call. I waited and waited. There was no ringing.”
“Sorry about that.” Mike swallowed, battling down the last of his emotions.
“I told him you were probably busy.” Sarah spoke up in that quiet way of hers.
Her serene tone could lure him closer if he let it.
“I heard Whitney is back home and in the hospital.” Sarah tried again to make conversation.
“You know Whitney Harpswell?” He spoke to her, but he kept staring at the crack in the sidewalk.
“Two girls in my class chose her and her husband for the Adopt a Soldier program, and we were writing to them before they disappeared.” Sarah was genuinely concerned. “I heard that you found her.”
“She was found by a villager woman. They brought her to my MASH unit. I just recognized her.” He resisted the need to look at Sarah and studied the boy instead. Ali’s color was good. So was his energy level. His respiration clear and even. He’d heard reports through Dr. Nora Blake, the local surgeon handling Ali’s case, and had talked to the boy as often as he could, but seeing was believing. There was nothing like being able to watch Ali hop eagerly in place to make the knot of worry relax in the center of his chest.
He wasn’t a religious man, but he gave thanks right then and there standing in the middle of the street. He thanked God the boy had pulled through his risky surgery two months ago. He thought of all the others he’d treated—both soldier and civilian alike—who had not been so fortunate. Right from the start there had been something incredibly special about this plucky boy.
Ali stared up at Mike with his wide soulful eyes. “How come you didn’t call? Why?”
Talk about feeling like a heel. Mike jammed his fists into his coat pockets and did his best to ignore Sarah standing protectively behind the boy. “I couldn’t. I was on a plane flying home. I wanted to talk to you. You understand, right?”
“Okay. You gonna call me today?” Hope brightened the boy. “When?”
“I’m seeing you right now.” Mike laughed as he scrubbed his hand over the kid’s short brown hair. “Isn’t that enough?”
“You gonna see me?” Hope lit the boy up like Christmas. “When?”
The kid wasn’t understanding him. Mike shook his head, finding gentleness for the boy, though gentleness wasn’t something he was good at. He felt awkward as he knelt down. He could feel the weight of Sarah’s gaze and he ignored it. He focused on what mattered—this kid was going to be his son. “Sorry, buddy, this is it.”
“But you said today.” Ali cocked his head. His forehead scrunched up in thought. “You can come see me later. For supper? Sarah’s gonna make my second favorite.”
Macaroni and cheese, hot dogs and green beans. Mike didn’t even have to ask. It had been his plan to stop by the commissary on the way to his duplex. Those foods were at the top of his shopping list. He didn’t know how long it would take to get custody of the boy, but Mike liked being prepared. Now, if only he could keep ignoring the sensation of Sarah’s gaze.
No such luck. He drew in a breath, gathered his courage and turned to face her. It took all his strength to keep the past from flashing through his mind, but it did anyway. Remembering that rainy October night as he’d stood huddled beneath her porch roof, wet with rain and ripped apart by her quiet words telling him it was over. Pain hit him, as fresh as a new wound.
Let it go, man. He squared his shoulders, met her gaze and held his heart cement-still. Let her see the man he was today. Resolute, unaffected and completely over her.
Was that a hint of panic flitting across her delicate features? He shifted his weight and stared down the sidewalk. Folks kept swerving around them, hurrying on with their lives. It felt surreal to stand here on a safe, Texas street when a few days ago he had been surrounded by helicopters and artillery fire.
He started walking back a step. Unaffected, that’s what he was. As cold as stone. “Don’t worry, Sarah. I’ll explain it to him.”
“No, uh, Mike, I’m just—” She looked a little helpless, as if she were having a hard time wrestling with all of this. Her hand went to Ali’s shoulder, a protective, motherly gesture, and he had never seen her eyes so sad.
He had to fight the natural urge to make it easier for her. He stormed over to the hardware store’s glass door and yanked it open. All he’d ever wanted to do was to make things easier for her, but it was no longer his duty. This was the woman who hadn’t wanted him. “Forget it, Sarah. You don’t owe me any explanations. Ali, I promise I’ll call you tonight, buddy.”
“No, you’re comin’ to eat mac ’n’ cheese, remember?”
Mike let the door swing closed. As much as he had to walk away from Sarah, he had to set things right with the kid. He owed that to the boy. He ran his hand over Ali’s dark brown hair and ruffled it. “I can’t make it tonight, buddy.”
“You can’t?” Some of the sparkle slid from the boy’s midnight dark eyes. “How come?”
Mike gulped, seeing the disappointment set in. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay.” The boy’s shoulders slumped. “Can you come tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?” Mike crooked one eyebrow in surprise. How could he make the boy understand? He knelt down so he was eye level with the kid. But where did his gaze go?
To Sarah, standing on the busy sidewalk, next to the hardware store’s front window displaying Christmas paraphernalia, keeping just enough distance to make it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
“Dr. Mike?” Ali tugged on Mike’s coat sleeve. “You don’t like mac ’n’ cheese?”
Mike gulped. He was capable of long, unrelenting shifts in the E.R., he didn’t bat an eyelash when mortar rounds vibrated through the floor in his operating room, but having to see the hurt etched on the boy’s face made his knees weak.
“I think there is only one solution and you’re not going to like it.” Sarah shook her head slowly, looking beautiful with the wind in her soft auburn hair and sadness vibrant in her jeweled blue eyes.
Remember, she means nothing to you. He glanced at his to-do list as if that were much more important than she had ever been to him. “I can’t come to supper. I just got back.”
“Today?”
“Midmorning.”
“You probably have a lot to do to get settled.”
“I do.” His answer was clipped; as if he thought she was dismissing him.
“You probably have to run errands. Buy groceries.”
“Right.” He jammed both hands into his coat pockets.
There was no avoiding the truth that Mike was back, that they would be running into him inevitably from time to time, for Prairie Springs was a small town. Ali would never stop adoring his hero, the man who had saved his life when he had been all alone.
It was hard for her, too. Every time she looked at this man, she saw that hero, too. She also saw the man she had once given everything in her heart to—and it hadn’t been enough. It was hard to breathe past the ache that put in her throat.
The past is over, Sarah. You have to accept it. She took Ali by the hand. She had to be practical now. She had to accept that he adored Mike. Denying the doctor who had been his rock would only hurt Ali. That was not something she would do. But the alternative—the solution—was going to be hard for her. Terribly hard.
She eyed the doctor standing before her as objectively as possible. Travel fatigue lined his strong, handsome face and bruised the skin beneath his eyes.
Just say it, Sarah. She took a breath, gathered her courage and prayed that she sounded composed. Indifferent. Over him. “You may as well come for dinner tonight—”
“Yaaaaay!” Ali whooped, already looking just like any other American kid with his fist in the air and happiness on his face.
“Hold on there. I haven’t answered yet.” Mike chuckled in that warm, low rumble she had once loved so well. He was careful not to look directly at her. “Are you sure, Sarah?”
“It’s for Ali’s sake. We both understand that.” Ali may be jubilant, but Sarah felt the thunk of dread. She had been trying to prepare herself for this and there was still no way around it. Seeing how Mike was careful to keep distance between them, to be polite to her and reserved, made her think of all that had changed between them.
Handle this as you would any other guest coming to supper, Sarah thought. If Mike wasn’t Mike but anyone else, what would she be saying right now? How would she be acting? Warmly, that’s how. Friendly. She managed a small smile that she hoped was both. “We usually eat around five. Is that too early for you?”
“Nope. I’ll be there.” He gave her a curt nod.
Nothing personal in that nod. They would look like strangers standing on the street to anyone passing by. Strangers. The way it had to be, apparently. Nothing could make her sadder.
Mike smiled at Ali in that genuine, amazing way that made his hazel eyes golden. “I’ll see you when the big hand’s on twelve and the little hand’s on five. Deal?”
“Deal.” Ali’s grin couldn’t be any wider.
“You be good for Sarah until then, ya hear?” His voice dipped kindly, rumbling deep in his chest.
Sarah held her heart very, very still.
Ali held up one hand to wave. “Bye, Dr. Mike. See you later alligator.”
“I’ll see y’all later,” he called over his shoulder, striding away fast.
Sarah didn’t know why that struck her. Mike had been so far away for so long that distance between them was nothing new. It had happened well before he had decided to tear their love apart.
Of course, it had all been her fault. Hers. She had laid down the ultimatum for him to marry her or reenlist. She had known how committed he was to serving his country. Hadn’t she known down deep that Mike had never loved her that much?
The proof of it was walking away, taking a part of her with him.
No amount of determination, dignity or willpower could change the truth—the truth she was just now seeing. She wasn’t over Mike Montgomery after all. Not a little bit, not even close.
“Sarah?” Ali’s hand caught hers and held on so tight. “Dr. Mike is great. I love him.”
She tore her gaze away from the man, still visible among the sidewalk full of holiday shoppers. She turned her back and she still felt that awful longing.
Sarah drew in a shaky breath. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Two
He was just doing the right thing, Mike told himself as he pocketed the change in the hustle and bustle of the busy florist’s. It wasn’t as if he could show up without a hostess gift, right?
Across the small counter, Mrs. Neville, who had been a friend of his mom’s back in the day, shut the cash register drawer and offered him a smile along with the bouquet of daisies trimmed and wrapped in festive paper.
“Are these for a young lady?” Mrs. Neville handed over the flowers with her question. “Next time I would recommend roses.”
“It’s not what you think.” He took the flowers. He had avoided the roses on purpose. He didn’t want Sarah to get the wrong idea—he had moved on. “I’ve been invited to dinner. Not the romantic kind.”
“What a shame. A doctor like you,” Mrs. Neville said with a tsk. “I can’t believe a nice woman hasn’t snapped you right up.”
“Maybe I’d rather not be snapped.”
“Oh, you young men. You’ll want to settle down one day. You know, your mama, rest her soul, would be so proud of you.”
“Thank you, ma’am. You have a good day.” He gave her a quick salute and left the store.
He couldn’t help thinking about his mom, who had been gone a long time. Cancer had taken her not long after his dad was killed in action. Mike had always thought that she died of a broken heart, for she had loved his dad too much. That had been a tough time in his life. He had been finishing his bachelors in chemistry, already of legal age and on his own. Sarah had been there for him. He wondered what his mama would think of what he’d made of his life. Would she understand what had happened with Sarah?
He was halfway to her house when his foot kept easing up on the gas pedal. It wasn’t hard to figure out the reason why: Sarah. The past weighed like ballast. Over the last year he’d been busy enough with an all-consuming job, hoping to forget her.
So, why hadn’t he? Time had helped, but not completely. When thoughts of her surfaced, it was like being battered by hurricane winds at sea. It was hard to keep bitterness from taking him down. He’d loved her with all he had to give, and it hadn’t been enough.
Well, he hoped she found what she wanted.
Her little yellow house on the tree-lined street looked changed, too. A bicycle with training wheels was parked on the front lawn. A ladder was pushed up against the outside wall of the garage. The wicker love seat on the small porch held Clarence the cat. He sat on alert, watching through slitted eyes as Mike pulled into the driveway.
Well, some things did stay the same, Mike thought, as he cut the engine and climbed out of his truck. Clarence, apparently remembering him, laid his ears flat against his head.
Fortunately, the screen door chose that moment to slam open and there was Ali pounding down the steps. “Dr. Mike! Dr. Mike! I got every color ones!”
“That’s good, buddy.” Mike pocketed his keys. “Every color what?”
“Lights. For the roof.”
Sarah stepped out onto the porch and ran a comforting hand over her cat’s orange head. She said nothing, but the breeze swung the curled ends of her hair and the sunlight framed her with gold.
Don’t feel a thing, man. He squared his shoulders and managed to take what he hoped looked like a solid, confident step toward the little boy.
“I gotta pick ’em out. I got all the colors.” Ali’s fists pumped as he ran down the walkway. “They flash like police lights.”
“Lucky me.” Sarah gave a wry grin.
The sound of her voice, sweet and low, still got to him. Mike swallowed hard. Coming over had been a mistake. He nodded toward the garage wall. “Is that the reason for the ladder? You’re going to put up Christmas lights?”
“Guilty.”
“I’ve never known you to climb a ladder.”
“I have had to learn to do a few new things since I’ve been on my own.”
Her quiet answer surprised him; she seemed calm and steady, centered, although she was watching him with the saddest eyes.
He had to try again.
Careful now, he thought. He took the daisies and the shopping bag he’d brought with him and shut the truck door. “Maybe I’d best stick around and climb that ladder for you.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—” She held up one hand, which had been petting the cat, and the cat glared at him again.
“Dr. Mike?” Ali’s gaze was glued to the gift bag and the flowers. “Who is those for?”
“The bag is for you.”
Yet as dear as the boy was to him, it was the woman standing in the background that seemed to draw Mike’s gaze and to keep it. The blue cable-knit sweater she wore complemented her creamy complexion and the soft red of her hair, making her look like a summer rose out of season.
The unveiled look of love on her face as she gazed at the small boy made him feel humbled and somehow ashamed. He loved Ali, but now he realized he hadn’t considered that Sarah, as his foster mother, would have to give him up if he adopted him.
“Wow!” Ali’s excitement carried over the sound of rumpling shopping bag. “A soccer ball!”
“Can you give these to Sarah?” He fought to say her name without inflection. He made sure his voice carried to where she stood on the porch. “A gift for the cook.”
He wanted it to be clear.
“Okay!” The boy’s happiness was contagious as he hurried to do as he’d been asked. He grabbed the daisies in both hands and ran the small bouquet to Sarah.
“Thank you, Ali. Mike, thank you, too.” Judging by the unaffected tone of her voice, she was at peace over their breakup.
He was, too. He turned his back, so he wouldn’t see her walking away with his flowers in her arms.

Daisies. Sarah tossed the paper they had come in into the kitchen garbage can. Mike was thoughtful; she had to give him that. She never thought she would be looking over the counter to see him standing in her living room, a pure soldier out of place against her chintz and gingham decor. How could she ever have thought she could get over that man?
Because telling herself she could had gotten her through life without him.
“Dr. Mike, I can kick good.”
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.” Mike ruffled Ali’s hair. “If it’s all right with Sarah, why don’t you take me out in the backyard and show me?”
“Can I, Sarah?”
She looked into the pleading, delighted eyes of her foster son and couldn’t say no. “You’ve got time before dinner is on the—”
Sneakers beat against the hardwood floors and the French door in the living room was wrenched open.
“—table,” she finished.
“It’s good to see him so active.” Mike took a more leisurely pace, his presence filling the small room. “The first time I saw him in triage, hurting and little and scared—” He fell silent, keeping his emotions to himself.
Sarah’s knees weakened at the picture that created in her mind—a picture she squeezed out as soon as it lodged there. It was too much to imagine Ali like that. What she could see was Mike watching over the boy, one hundred percent committed to saving him. Maybe that was the message God had been trying to get into her head.
She set the vase on the counter. “It must be rewarding for you to see him happy and playing.”
“He’s more than that. He’s thriving, Sarah. After all he’s been through—” Mike swallowed hard and looked away, clearly emotional.
Or as emotional as she had ever seen him. “You had a hand in his recovery.”
“I didn’t do much.”
“You performed the emergency surgery that patched him up and got him here. Dr. Blake told me what a fine job you did.” So many emotions were swirling around inside her that she couldn’t begin to separate them. She stepped around the edge of the counter, wanting to be closer to him. “I don’t know if anyone has told you, but I’m adopting Ali. I’ve fallen in love with him. I couldn’t help it.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as if he was unhappy about something, and when he spoke his baritone was strained and raw. “You’re adopting him?”
“I filed the papers last week.”
“Last week?”
“You look surprised. I’m sorry if you don’t approve, Mike—”
“No, it’s not that.” He couldn’t seem to make his thoughts move past her words. His usually clear, crisp, problem-solving mind had broken down. He shook his head, but it didn’t help.
“I just love him so much.” Sarah, so sweet and bright and beautiful, turned on the water at the sink. She pumped soap into her small, slender hands. The fall of the overhead light seemed to spotlight her, drawing his gaze and his heart, forcing him to remember how dear to him she had always been.
His ripped-out heart hurt beyond bearing. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. He shouldn’t have to look at her like this, being tied up in knots. He didn’t love her, not anymore. But it surprised him that his memories of her were still alive and dear. Memories of the quiet evenings they had spent together in this kitchen fixing meals, laughing over nothing, their conversations easy.
Maybe what hurt was that she had never loved him enough, the way he had always loved her. Her affection for the boy was plain to see. It transformed her. She was glowing.
He yanked open the French door and the agony hit. Ali was not going to be his. Bleakness battered him like a desert windstorm. He tried to tell himself that he’d lost nothing, at least not anything that hadn’t been his at the start.
The trouble was, it didn’t feel that way. He wrestled down the last of his feelings. He caught a glimpse of Sarah as he closed the door. Sarah’s big blue eyes filled with regret and sadness. Pain clutched in his chest. She could still get to him.
The sinking sun hit him square in the eye as he crossed the little stone patio.
“Dr. Mike! Look! I’m the best kicker.” Ali dropped the soccer ball and gave it a boot with his sneakers.
Who was he kidding? He had lost everything. He had lost his chance for this child. It was another hard blow in a year full of them.
“That’s the best kick I’ve ever seen,” he told Ali, and ran to retrieve the ball.

What had come over Mike? Sarah’s heart felt heavy as she pulled the steamer package from the microwave. She had asked him over to dinner for Ali’s sake, definitely not for hers. She tore open the package and poured the piping hot green beans into a serving bowl. She wanted to be over him. She prayed to be over him. So why wasn’t she?
She dropped a spoon into the bowl and carried it to the table. Maybe the reason why wasn’t such a mystery. Outside in the thinning daylight Ali kicked the ball to Mike, who gave a gentle return kick, sending Ali running and laughing. The faint sound of it warmed the air with joy.
It was like something out of her lost dreams to see Mike playing with a little boy in this backyard. How many times had she pictured that over the years she had been waiting for him to commit? She set the bowl on the table, filled with remorse. She had meant to push him closer to her, when all she did was push him away. She had let go of her dreams when she watched him board the transport plane that had carried him off to war.
Now, those dreams taunted her once again with what she could never have.
Don’t think about it, she told herself as she crossed to the French door. Ali had kicked the ball again and Mike pretended to miss, making the little boy clap his hands and laugh with glee. Her feet came to a stop and she stood there watching the man with her broken heart on her sleeve. Mike would be a great dad one day. She had always known that. His concern for children was one of the first things she had loved about him.
You weren’t going to think about that, remember? She shook herself, gathered her fortitude and opened the door. “Dinner is ready.”
“Aw, just one more kick,” Ali pleaded.
As if she could easily say no to that sweet face. She knew Mike was watching her; she could feel the burn of his gaze.
“One more, kiddo, then in you come,” she called out. “I have mac ’n’ cheese waiting.”
“Yay!” Ali dropped the ball, gave it a kick and sent it reeling into the fence.
Mike’s low rumbling voice as he commented on that professional-style kick stuck with her as she retreated into the safety of her little house. Why did she feel choked up? She went to the sink, set out an extra hand towel for the two of them and fetched milk from the fridge.
Mike and Ali burst into the living room. The crisp evening air blew in with them, and their happiness warmed the place like fire in a hearth.
“Something smells good,” Mike complimented as he shut the door behind them.
“Yum.” Ali raced through the house, his sneakers thudding on the wood floor, beaming with excitement. “We put up the lights after, right?”
“As soon as your plate is clean.”
“Yippee.” Ali went up on tiptoe at the kitchen sink. It was their evening thing for Sarah to scoop him up so he could reach the faucet to wash his hands.
But Mike was there, chuckling deep in his throat. “Let me help you, little buddy.”
“I can almost reach,” Ali insisted, although he had a long way to go.
“I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten.” Mike grabbed the boy around the middle and hefted him up.
Ali laughed, a blessed sound. Sarah tore her gaze away from the man and child, so natural with one another. She set the milk carton on the edge of the table. Her hand was too shaky to pour. Memories she had tucked away came back to her—of Mike’s deep baritone rumbling in her kitchen, talking of his work and of his dreams, captivating her then just as surely as she was now.
The distance between them now was so vast, the entire earth could fit in it. He was no longer hers to love. She had blown any chance with him. He stood military straight, with tension hard in the line of his jaw. His shoulders were rigid. His rugged face tight with tension. She still knew him so well, she could read how unhappy he was to be here. How unhappy he was to be near her.
She filled three glasses with milk, holding her feelings still as the man and boy toweled off and tromped her way.
“I see Clarence is still ruling the roost.” Mike took the chair across the table from her—his chair.
She swallowed hard, determined to stay in the present. The trouble was, the man who sat across from her looked changed, too. The year had been a hard one. He didn’t need to say a word for her to know. Sympathy wrapped around her heart, taking it over. What happened to him? She waited for Ali to climb into his chair, the cutie. Mike wasn’t the only one who had changed. The little boy looked ten times happier with his hero at the table.
Life had a way of changing everyone, she realized. The last year had been hard for all three of them. Ali had lost his family and survived heart surgery. Mike had the Army and all that he had seen in a war zone. And she had learned how to live without the man she loved. Without a major piece of her soul.
“We say grace, Mike,” she said gently as he reached for his glass of milk.
“Grace?” Surprise momentarily chased away the hardness on his face. “You say grace now?”
“I’m a Christian now.” She wondered if he remembered the few times they had attended Sunday services at the church in town.
“That’s a change.” His tone was neutral and his face as unreadable as stone.
“A lot of things have changed since you’ve been gone.” She wished she could be the strong, unaffected woman she wanted to be. But the truth was, she would always be vulnerable and moved by Dr. Mike Montgomery.
She bowed her head, folded her hands, and said the blessing.

“What do you think, buddy?” On top of the ladder perched against Sarah’s roofline, Mike waited patiently for the boy down below to appraise his handiwork.
Ali’s face scrunched up as he thought. “I like the red ones.”
Mike considered the gigantic red bulbs that glowed like Rudolph’s nose in the gathering twilight—or about fifty Rudolph’s noses. “Do you want me to put the multicolored strings up on the porch?”
“No. I want ’em here.” Ali padded over to point up at the roofline. “I want ’em both.”
“Up here, together?”
“Yep.”
Mike noticed Clarence was still on his cushion. The cat’s ears had gone back as if he understood the conversation perfectly. “Any chance I can change your mind?”
“No.” Ali’s charming grin clinched it.
“Fine. You’re the boss.” Mike grinned back. “I’m comin’ down for them.”
He had no sooner touched his boots to the ground when Ali, bouncing in place, held up a handful of the smaller twinkle lights. The kid radiated so much joy that his feet were leaving the ground. Mike was glad he’d decided to come. He loved the boy like a son. What was that, compared with his own awkwardness around Sarah? He was a soldier; he could handle it.
“These are blinkers,” Ali explained. “Sarah said that was special.”
Mike chuckled, fighting the instinct to glance to the house where the front windows might afford him a view of her. It was habit, nothing more. He took the string of lights Ali offered. He could picture Sarah standing in the store saying “that was special,” with a roll of her eyes, putting a bright face on everything, even her personal dislike of flashing things.
After he unplugged the extension cord, he tested the ladder just to be sure before climbing back on it. Sarah might not like blinkers, but he wasn’t overly fond of heights.
He had to keep his gaze down, on the porch, as he made his way back to the top of the ladder, fighting to keep from looking for her through the windows. Clarence grimaced at Mike and gave him a disgruntled hiss.
“I’m not steppin’ on his tail.” Ali tipped his head back to explain seriously.
“I see that.” Mike braced his body against the roof and plugged the new string into the outlet of the red.
“I did that once when I first come.” Ali had kept up a steady stream of talk all the while the first layer of lights had gone up. Looked like he was about to do the same the whole evening through.
Mike grinned. “I bet Clarence didn’t like that.”
“Nope. He didn’t get hurt, but I didn’t mean it.” Ali gulped. “So’s I look down now. So I don’t trip on him.”
“That’s mighty thoughtful of you.”
“Yeah.” Ali sighed, as if pleased with himself.
Mike felt his grin stretch wider across his face. His chest hitched a notch, but Ali’s place was with Sarah. And if there was one place that Mike didn’t belong, it was here. How was he going to explain that to the kid?
He was at a loss. He hooked the coated wire through the plastic hook he’d inserted earlier beneath the edge of shingles and went onto the next. He didn’t want to think about a future without Ali. It was as bleak as the one without Sarah. Sadness flattened him.
No emotions allowed, Montgomery. Remember? Mike hooked in the next length of wire, stretched it out. He peered down through the space between his feet to the little supervisor down below. “How does it look, boss? Okay?”
“Okay.” Ali gave him a thumbs-up. “They gonna blink, right?”
“When I plug ’em in they will.”
“I can’t wait.” Ali danced in place, unable to keep still, getting close to Clarence, whose ears returned to their normal position. The cat lifted his head expectantly.
How about that? Mike mused as he descended the ladder to move it over a few feet. The prickly feline liked five-year-old boys. Through all the years he had dated Sarah, he had always thought Clarence was opposed to all human males in general. Apparently it was just him.
Yep, he thought as his boots hit the ground and the cat’s ears went back. It’s just me.
The good news for Clarence was that after tonight, he would never need to be disgruntled over Mike visiting again. He hiked the ladder over and started back up. “Are you and Clarence good buddies?”
“He loves me.” Ali gave the fuzzy cat a gentle squeeze.
Clarence squinted his eyes, tolerating the affection. Mike shook his head, grasping the next ladder rung, and his gaze fell on the front window. This was a different angle, and there was Sarah setting a serving tray on the coffee table. He caught a glimpse of decorated chocolate cupcakes on plastic cartoon plates, bright yellow paper napkins and a small dish of Christmas-colored candies, and Sarah.
She was still as enchanting as ever with her floral-patterned furniture and ruffles everywhere, of her favorite books—children’s books, of course—on the built-in bookcase next to the fireplace, nearby so she could read them anytime. She moved to the fireplace and hit a light switch. Gas flames curled over logs, the soft light haloing her like the dream she used to be for him.
She was a hard habit to break. He’d thought he had accomplished that. That had been the best thing about his deployment—he didn’t have time to think about her and dwell on what he’d lost. He’d gotten over her.
Or so he’d thought. But not enough, apparently. He pried his gaze away and carefully worked the kink out of the light string. Now he could see there was still debris left from the breakup. Debris he had to clean out like shrapnel from an open wound. With each cut of his scalpel, he had to remove every last bit. It was that simple. Sad, true, but it had to be done. There was no other way.

Chapter Three
“Can they blink now?” Ali was craning his neck, trying to see as much as he could from the driveway. Mike had finished putting up the second string of lights at the far end of the house.
“Wait till I come down, ya hear?”
“Yes, sir.”
As he climbed down, Mike listened to the thump, thump of Ali’s sneakers on the cement as he bounced up and down, unable to hold back his excitement.
Ali caught his hand and tugged. “C’mon. Hurry!”
Mike’s lungs seized up. The images of what he had let himself think about back in the desert took him over—images of what it would be like to have Ali for his son. Cooking dinner, taking him to school, taping crayon masterpieces to the refrigerator, hanging Christmas lights from the roof.
Not possible now, Mike thought as he knelt down at the gutter spout. Looks like he would have to carve those feelings out, too.
One end of the orange extension cord snaked up behind the downspout, and the other half was on the ground, just as he’d left it. He handed the plug to Ali. “You do the honors.”
“Can I? Oh, boy!” Ali’s eyes widened and grasped it fast. He wasted no time getting the short distance to the outside outlet. Mike knelt down beside him to hold back the outlet’s cover and helped him position the plug. It connected, colored light flared like fireworks against the dark sky and Ali clapped. “Looky. It’s blinkin’.”
“Good job, soldier.”
Ali straightened up and lifted his hand to his brow to salute. “I’m gonna be just like you.”
His throat closed and he stared at the flashing lights adorning Sarah’s little house until they no longer blurred. But now, he realized what he had lost. This little boy. He would never have him for a son.
“I love it. I love it.” Ali clasped his hands together, transfixed. “I love it! I want more. Can we do more, Dr. Mike? Pleeeease?”
“You want more?” He hoped his voice sounded normal. “Isn’t this enough?”
“No, sir.” Eyes wide, face happy, dancing in place, Ali was obviously thriving here with Sarah.
Could he fight for the right to adopt Ali? Should he? Maybe that was the bigger question. Ali had lost everyone he had loved; he did not need to lose Sarah, too.
Mike shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. Turn off your heart, man. Just turn it off. He didn’t let his gaze stray to the golden light of the window, where he might see Sarah. “You need enough lights for the Christmas tree, don’t you?”
“But I want lots.” Ali jumped in place. “So they flash and flash.”
A chuckle broke loose. “If I were you, I would beg Sarah to put the Christmas tree right at that big window there, so you can see the lights from the front of the house, too.”
“Yeah. Cool.” Ali clasped his hands together. “Those lights flash. That’s what Sarah said.”
It amazed him how fast the boy was acclimating to his new country and new life with Sarah. Sure, being in school now with kids his own age helped, but it also said a lot about Ali’s resilience and Sarah’s love for him. Mike wrestled down his bitterness.
“Sarah!” Ali bounded away, full of energy and pounded up the porch steps. “Sarah!”
“Who’s making all this noise out here?” Sarah’s gentle voice was full of laughter. “I can’t believe it’s you, Ali. For a minute there, I thought it was Clarence.”
Ali laughed and it was a precious sound, full of glee. “No, it’s me! You gotta come see.”
Mike had forgotten Sarah’s charm. Maybe because it tore him apart to remember. But there it was, in the sweeping smile and brilliant eyes as she scooped her cat into her arms like a furry baby. She lugged him with her as she padded down the steps, washed in the jeweled glow from the lights. He could hear the cat’s rusty purr as Sarah breezed near.
“You boys did a great job,” she praised. “Ali, do those lights blink enough for you?”
“No! I want more.”
“Those are the flashiest lights we could find in the store, silly boy.” Warm gentle love, that was Sarah’s voice. It was no surprise why Ali’s gaze was one hundred percent pure adoration. Even when she was upset, which she had to be having him here, she was kind. “Mike, thanks for helping out. I never could have done such a good job.”
“No problem.” His voice sounded choked as the air pressure changed and the steel walls around his heart buckled. The several feet separating them seemed to vanish as they gazed up at the lights together, as if shoulder to shoulder.
You don’t feel a thing, Montgomery, he ordered himself. You will not feel one single thing.
“Do you boys want to come in and warm up?” Her voice moved through him like a melody. “I’ve got chocolate cupcakes and cocoa for you.”
“Oh, boy. I do!” Ali clapped his hands. “That’s my favorite.”
“Yes, I know, cutie. It used to be Mike’s favorite, too.” Her gaze pinned him with a quiet question. In the silence settling between them she was asking him to stay.
“Dr. Mike.” Ali grabbed his hand and tugged. “We’re alike.”
Emotion lodged in his throat, burned behind his eyes. He wanted to stay for the boy’s sake, but how would this end? Ali would soon belong to Sarah legally, and there was no future for Mike here. He thought of the span of life he had traveled without her. He had covered too much ground to go back. He had too much pride to keep looking the woman, who had ripped him to pieces, in the face.
He took a backward step. “I sure would like to stay with you, Ali, but I gotta get back.”
“I don’t want you to go.”
Looking into those honest eyes made the lump in his throat harder to swallow. He missed the boy. Months ago when he had sent the boy off for his flight to the States, the desert outpost had been lonely without him.
All gone now. He squared his shoulders and put away those memories, those feelings. “I have to go. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. How’s that?”
“When tomorrow?” Ali’s grip grew tight enough to cut off circulation. “What time are you gonna call?”
He saw pain for the boy soft on Sarah’s beautiful face, but he did what he had to do. The boy wasn’t his to love. The woman never really had been. He did an about-face and plucked his truck keys from his pocket. Tomorrow was Sunday. “How about lunchtime? Before noon.”
“But I wanna see you, Dr. Mike.” Ali’s happiness dimmed, and the grief that his smile had been covering up was heartbreaking. “I waited and waited. Just like you said. We are gonna get pizza right away. You promised.”
“I did.” Pressure built behind his solar plexus. It wasn’t just guilt. It wasn’t just disappointment. How much had Ali been counting on getting together? Mike thought of all their phone conversations, and all the veiled suggestions he had made to do things with him. At the time, he had been feeling out the idea of adoption and picturing himself in the role as dad. Now he saw that Ali may have heard them as promises.
He winced. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt the boy. How on earth was he going to be able to fix this? If he saw Ali, then he would have to see Sarah, too.
“Mike, this doesn’t have to be difficult.” She kept her loving gaze on Ali, not on him. “How does Sunday work for you? You can pick Ali up after church services.”
“Church?” He wasn’t going to be dragged to church again like Sarah had done the last few months before their breakup. He didn’t doubt the presence of God. He just doubted the relevance. And the truth is, he wasn’t a man to get all touchy-feely over something he couldn’t touch or see. He didn’t need it. “I’m not going to attend with you two.”
She held up one hand as if to ward off his argument. Her voice as always was mild. “I said after the service. You two can go out to a nice lunch and have a great afternoon together.”
Oh. He couldn’t object to that. He straightened his shoulders and stared hard at a hairline crack in the concrete. “It’s good of you to let me see him, Sarah.”
“Please don’t feel that way. I know you are a tremendous part of Ali’s life, and you should be. He’s alive because of you. He’s here because of you. You saved him. Can’t you see how grateful I am to you?”
Grateful, huh? He never would have guessed it from the look on her face and the shadows in her eyes. Then again, Sarah Alpert had proven to him that he never had really known her. So it ought to come as no surprise not to be able to guess what was going on with her now. “Ali, you and me are hitting the pizza joint on Sunday. Deal?”
“Deal!” Ali’s grin was back. “Pepperoni is my favorite.”
“You don’t think I know that?” Holding on to his emotions, Mike ruffled the boy’s dark hair and winked. “Come tomorrow, you won’t forget about me and leave church without me, right?”
“Nope. I cross my heart.” Ali made a big cross with his free hand.
The lump in Mike’s throat felt the size of a boulder and he turned away before it could get any bigger. He strode off to his truck, calling his goodbye to the boy over his shoulder.
Driving away from that little kid was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. And Sarah, oh, Sarah. He was hurting more than he could measure and a whole lot more than he would ever admit. He climbed in behind the wheel and backed the truck out into the street.
Ali was waving wildly. Man, it had been great to see the little kid. Mike put the truck in gear and put his heart on neutral. There was Sarah with her furry cat cradled in her arms, looking sadder than he’d ever seen her.
Too bad he was past feeling. He would do what he always did so well—brokenhearted or not—he would carry on. He concentrated on the road until the red and blue blink of the lights had faded from his rearview.

“Sarah? Know what?”
“What?” Laughing, she climbed from her knees and pulled back his covers.
“Dr. Mike’s gonna teach me basketball.”
“Yes, I heard that somewhere before.”
“Oh, from me!” Laughing, Ali dove onto his bed and snuggled in, warm in his flannel jammies.
“Yes, from you, silly.” Her heart swelled. She loved being a foster mom. She prayed that the adoption would work out. She smoothed the covers and tucked the sheet into place. “There. All snug?”
“Yeah.” Ali pulled his Texas bear onto the pillow next to him.
Dr. Mike. Would praises for the man ever end? Probably not. Sarah brushed Ali’s dark bangs from his eyes. The twice-weekly phone calls had hardly fazed her, but now that Mike was back in town—She squeezed her eyes briefly shut. Although it might be hard for her, Mike was important to her boy. She would simply have to deal with it. Somehow.
She turned off the little bedside lamp. She prayed that no nightmares would haunt him tonight. “Sleep well, little one.”
“I’m too happy to sleep.”
“Then you just lie quietly and think about all the good things that happened today.” That usually did the trick. Sarah followed the fall of light to the shadowed hallway.
“There were sure a lot.” Ali sighed, sounding content. In the dark shadows of his cozy room, she saw him give his bear an extra squeeze.
Sweet boy.
“You’re gonna stay close, right, Sarah?”
“Right. I’ll be just out in the living room. Very close.”
“Good.”
She waited until his breathing slowed before she eased down the hall and into the light of the living room. Clean laundry tumbled out of the basket she had left on one of the couches. A stack of papers were on the coffee table, awaiting gold stars and smiley faces. She had so much to do, and where were her thoughts?
On Mike. His eyes had looked almost haunted. He had felt so emotionally remote—more than usual. Something had changed him. Something happened in the desert. Her stomach twisted up so tight she could barely breathe. She sank onto the couch cushion. He might not have a drop of affection left for her, but she could not pretend.
She cared. She would always care about Mike. He had been more than her fiancé. More than the man she wanted to build her dreams with. He had been her best friend. Her confidant. Her soul mate. She could not pretend that seeing him tonight hadn’t shattered her.
Love was a powerful blessing. She pulled two of Ali’s tube socks from the basket and rolled them neatly. She had fallen in love so easily with Mike at first sight. He had been playing Frisbee on the tree-shaded common between their college dormitories with his buddies. The dappled sunlight had found him like grace as he leaped into the air, all powerful man and determination. He snatched the blue disc out of the air and he may as well have been grabbing hold of her heart.
With the breeze in his dark blond hair and laughter in his hazel eyes, she had been rendered speechless. Her library books had slipped out of her hand. He had come to help her and the moment he smiled at her, the world felt right.
Nothing had been right without him. She had to admit that. It was why she had decided to become a foster mom. First with Carlos, who had gone back to his biological mother five months before Ali had come into her life. Maybe part of her decision to foster had been a deep need to fill the emptiness that Mike had left. It was as if her soul knew that no matter how happy her future may be, something would always be missing. Mike would be missing. She would never be completely whole without him.
It was time to face that. She pulled a T-shirt from the basket—an olive-green army shirt that Mike had given Ali—and folded it carefully. Seeing the past and feeling the broken pieces of her dreams with him was not good for her. He had chosen the army over her. He had wanted to be everyone else’s hero but hers. That wound would never stop hurting.
After all this time, her feelings for him were just as strong, if a bit different. She pulled a towel from the laundry and gave it a shake. Clarence wandered in from the kitchen and gave her a rusty purr.
Her life had gone one way. Mike’s had gone another. It wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t what she had meant when she had asked him not to extend his tour of duty. She would pray on it tonight and she would trust that the Lord would show her the way.

He hefted the last box from the back of his truck onto his shoulder and hoofed it up the walk. The post was a family neighborhood. The windows up and down the street were squares of light against the pressing darkness, and the colorful glow of Christmas lights blazed joyfully. Only his windows were dark. He was the only house without a single Christmas decoration.
He kept his heart cool and his thoughts on the task at hand. If he wasn’t so good at self-control, he would be thinking about Ali right now and remembering the fun they had putting up those strings of red and blue lights. If he wasn’t a man who prided himself on his unyielding self-discipline, he might be remembering how sad Sarah had looked when he drove away.
He shouldered the door open and stacked the box on top of the others. There. The stack was neat and tidy and relatively out of the way. He gave the door a slight boot, sending it gently closed. The faint light from the kitchen fell through the pass-through into the entry hall, casting just enough to see the empty rooms.
His furniture would come first thing Monday morning. For now, he was content enough just to have a real roof over his head and a place to call his own. After sharing a tent with half a dozen other doctors, this modest little home seemed a luxury.
The adoption papers he had carefully filled out were on the counter. He didn’t look at them as he picked them up and ripped them carefully in half. Just like that, his hopes were gone.
Alone, he crossed to the refrigerator, refusing to listen to the hollow sound of his boots echoing in the empty house. There was no one for him to call. Most of his buddies were either in the Mid East or spending the first night home with their families.
He didn’t mind so much. He’d gotten used to being alone. He yanked open the door and hauled out a can of flavored iced tea. He popped the top and took a long slow slurp. Another luxury. It didn’t seem to hit the spot, though. Maybe because this last tour had put a hole in his soul. Staying connected to Ali had helped mask that some, but now—
Mike shook his head and set the can on the counter. He walked away into the darkness. Sarah was going to adopt him. How could he have guessed that? He thought she was the perfect foster mother—in spite of all their differences he had to be honest about that—but adopt him? Why? She had been set on having her own children, and soon. Wasn’t that the reason she had set down her ultimatum? Why hadn’t she found someone else to walk down the aisle with?
The memory of her shadowed eyes cut him in two. She had avoided looking directly at him. She had talked to him as little as possible. She didn’t seem to care how ruthlessly she had hurt him.
He unrolled his sleeping bag with a hard shake. Yes, that was his breath huffing in the silence. He pressed his hand to his forehead and took a few slow mouthfuls of air. What was he doing? Blaming Sarah wasn’t going to change a thing. He didn’t really think it was her fault to begin with.
She hadn’t loved him enough, but he didn’t blame her for that. Even through his bitterness, he could clearly see she always had the best of intentions. She was pure sweetness with her chocolate cupcakes for dessert and her living-room shelves stuffed with children’s books. She didn’t live in his world. She didn’t understand what he was fighting for day in and day out. That wasn’t her fault.
No, he was angry at himself because he still cared for her. That’s what this anger was. It was distracting him from a whole lot of hurt. His anger was spent.
In the silence of the comfortable bedroom in the pleasant neighborhood on this safe army post, the silence threatened to suffocate him. He could still hear the distant pop of artillery, and beep of monitors from ICU. Exhaustion clung to him. He sank to his knees, alone and lost.
It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Four
Church may have brought her peace and refreshed her spirit, but it hadn’t given her an easy answer. Sarah stopped her SUV outside the post’s security entrance and gathered her papers from the front seat. She lowered her window and smiled to the strapping young soldier who approached her.
Once, she had known nearly everyone who had stood guard because she had visited Mike on post so frequently. Now a stranger in uniform squinted at her and the interior of her vehicle. So much had changed.
“Good afternoon.” She handed the guard her papers and pass, squinting in the low sunlight. “I’m visiting Dr. Mike Montgomery.”
“You’re on the list. One moment.” After a curt nod, the soldier marched to the booth and made a call. A pair of soldiers, one with a German shepherd and another with a mirror, walked the length of her vehicle. It was good they took such precautions in these uncertain times. Sarah’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, thinking of all the men and women who sacrificed for this country.
She understood how much that sacrifice meant. It was more than service to one’s country. It meant forsaking time with family and friends, with hobbies and pastimes, and even one’s personal dreams to make others safe. She had always known that, but ever since she had met Ali, what soldiers did for their country and the world had taken on a whole new perspective.
“Good day, ma’am.” The soldier waved her through, opening the checkpoint gate.
She thanked him, but she was thinking of Mike. She was thinking of all the good Mike had done and continued to do. She never should have forced him to choose between her and the army. She should have been more understanding when he wanted to go back.
Her cell rang. She grabbed the phone from the outside pocket of her shoulder bag and hit the speaker button. “Hello?”
“Sarah?” Mike’s rich voice filled the passenger compartment.
Why did her heart sigh at the sound?
“Hi, Mike. I’m on my way.” She prayed her voice was as calm as she wanted it to be. “I’m running a few minutes late. I’m sorry about that.”
“No prob. Ali and I are shooting hoops. If you turn at the second left, you should—”
“I see you.” Since she traveled at the slow speed limit, she was able to spot the towering basketball hoops and the busy court. She flipped closed her phone. Her gaze went straight to the tall, square-shouldered figure standing beside a little dark-haired boy dribbling a ball.
Every roll of the tires brought her closer to the man, and as his features came more into focus, so did the stirring in her soul. A stirring she could not deny.
“Sarah!” Ali raced up to her as she hiked around to the sidewalk. “I made ten whole baskets and I winned.”
“That’s because you are the best ballplayer I know.” Seeing him made her heart warm, and she loved how bright he looked from hanging with Mike. But it was the man striding toward her, with the ball under one arm and the breeze ruffling his short hair that made her pulse catch.
Her foot hit the ground too soon, and the sudden jarring ricocheted up her leg. How could he still have that effect on her? She brushed her hair out of her eyes, but that only made her see him more clearly.
He had changed. Gone was his quick and easy smile, the one that made dimples bracket his mouth and his hazel eyes twinkle with mischief. It wasn’t only because of their breakup. She knew there was more. It was as if something had taken a big bite out of his soul. Shadows haunted his eyes, shadows that faded when he looked at Ali.
“He’s quite a ballplayer.” Mike winked. “Ali, what do you say we have another rematch? I need to try to win next time. I have a reputation to protect.”
Ali laughed, pure sunshine. “Not now, right? ’Cuz we still gotta do the promised thing.”
“What promised thing?” She glanced at her watch. “I thought you boys would be done by five.”
“Apparently not.” Mike tossed the ball to Ali, who caught it easily. The man was looking everywhere but at her. “The kid knows how to work me.”
“The best ones do.” Her words sounded strained. Her stomach was clamping tight. She laid a hand on Ali’s shoulder. She was definitely uncomfortable. The faster she could put some distance between her and Mike, the better. “Toss the ball back. It’s time for us to go, sunshine.”
“No, it’s not.” Ali, nothing if not persistent, gave her his best puppy-dog look.
How was she going to say no to that?
“I meant to call,” Mike explained. “Ali and I got to talking and it seems like I promised that we would do a lot of things when I got back. And so that means I owe the kid. He seems to think I meant we would do all these things the minute I got back.” Mike rubbed the back of his neck, the way he did when he was either nervous or contemplating a tricky problem.
She hated to think that she was a problem to him. She took a step back. “Hey, don’t let me stand in your way. Give me a call when you need me to come pick him up.”

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