The Soldier's Holiday Vow by Jillian Hart Page B

roughing it.”
    â€œYou’ll freeze this time of year. Are you nuts?”
    â€œBeyond a doubt.” He laughed along with her. “This is fun for us. We get to test our mettle. We bundle up in goose down and build fire like cavemen. We eat beef jerky and complain about how cold we are. It’s a blast.”
    â€œIt certainly sounds appealing. Remind me to never go on a vacation with you.”
    â€œFor you, I could make less challenging plans. I’m flexible.” He hefted his toolbox, feeling as if he had not accomplished what he had set out to do, although he couldn’t begin to explain what that was. Unsettled, wanting more and knowing he couldn’t have it, he headed for the door. “When you head back to work, say hi to Comanche for me. I think he and I bonded.”
    â€œI’ll be sure and mention you to him.” She followed him to the door. “Want me to pick out a ride for you?”
    â€œA ride? You mean, like a horse?” His hand lingered on the knob. One turn, and he would have to walk out the door. It was getting late, but did he want to go? No way.
    â€œYou agreed to go on the benefit ride. You promised, remember?” She could talk him into jumping to the moon, he figured.
    â€œI’ll be there.” Probably not a good idea, because of his impulsive kiss. It stood between them right now. September wasn’t as easygoing; there was something she held back just beneath the surface. She kept a few more paces between them than was necessary. When she smiled, her eyes didn’t dance and sparkle.
    Yep, the kiss was to blame. He opened the door,hooked one arm around the ladder and hauled it onto the porch. Rain speared under the porch roof, background music on a cold winter’s eve.
    â€œI’ll call and leave the details on your answering machine.” She hung in the doorway, probably not wanting to get wet or cold. Although it could be she was afraid he might plant another kiss on her.
    Cool, Hawk. Real cool.
    â€œYou forgot your brownies. Let me go wrap them up for you—”
    â€œNo,” he interrupted. “You keep ’em. I appreciate the meal. You’re a good cook.”
    â€œYou say that as if you were surprised.”
    â€œNo. Maybe one day I’ll cook for you.”
    â€œI would be brave enough to eat whatever you prepare.”
    â€œI’ll hold you to it.” His gaze slipped to her mouth. He couldn’t help it. He thought of that kiss again, like peppermint and Christmas morning and a Sunday hymn all rolled together. “Good night, September.”
    â€œGood night, and thank you.” She beamed up at him, quiet and shy, a wholesome combination. “I appreciated your help tonight. I appreciate you.”
    â€œBack at you, cutie.” Call him an idiot, but he apparently hadn’t learned his lesson. He leaned down to slant his mouth over hers. One soft brush was all he allowed himself before he pulled away. He had only one explanation for his rash action. “Mistletoe.”
    â€œIt’s not directly over the door.” She sounded amused, not really protesting at all.
    â€œClose enough.” He grabbed his tools and his ladder and hoofed it down the steps. “I’ll call you when I get back.”
    â€œBe careful on that glacier.”
    â€œCount on it.”
    â€œBetter yet, I’ll pray on it.” She waved her good hand in goodbye. Night had fallen, and as he left, Hawk was a shadow against the dark curtain of rain, so it made no sense why she could see him clearly. Maybe she wasn’t looking as much with her eyes as with her heart.
    The big, strapping man striding confidently through the storm was no longer a reminder from the past, Tim’s Ranger buddy or a passing acquaintance. He was her friend, the man who had chased away her shadows and brought color and light back into her life. The tree lights blinked as if in perfect agreement as she