The Soldier's Holiday Vow

by Jillian Hart

Overview

Trapped in a mine shaft with a little girl, September Stevens prays for someone to save them. When help arrives in the form of army ranger Mark Hawkins, the best friend of her late fiancé, they both feel God's hand at work. Together they help each other rebuild their lives. As they let the spirit of the holidays into their hearts, feelings of new love start to take hold. But September is afraid to risk her heart on another soldier. Until Mark offers a Christmas vow, one that could last a lifetime.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781426845147
Publisher:	Steeple Hill Books
Publication date:	12/01/2009
Series:	Granger Family Ranch
Sold by:	HARLEQUIN
Format:	eBook
Pages:	224
Sales rank:	204,369
File size:	165 KB

About the Author

Jillian Hart grew up on the original homestead where her family still lives, went to high school where Twin Peaks was filmed, earned an English degree, and has travelled extensively. When Jillian’s not writing her stories, she reads, stops for café mochas, and hikes through the pine forests near her home in Washington State.

Read an Excerpt

September Stevens fought despair. Not an easy thing to do. The cold damp earth surrounded her like a grave. The jagged, crumbling walls of the mine shaft lifted above her and drank up the faint starlight. She and little Crystal Toppins had been down here for a good twelve hours. Sunset came early, near to four-thirty this time of year. That meant enough time had passed for it to be nearly midnight. If the sky wasn't partly overcast, typical for the Pacific Northwest in winter, the rising moon might have offered some relief from the suffocating dark and fear.

Maybe then it would have been easier to hold on to hope.

"They aren't coming, are they?" The ten-year-old girl gulped down a sob. It was too dark in the belly of the shaft to see more than a shadow of the child lying on her back on the earthen floor. Terror made the girl's voice thin and raw. "Are we going to d-die?"

"No, of course not." September leaned back against the hard-packed dirt wall and stretched her legs out as far as they would go. She had to believe that was the truth, but privately, she wasn't so sure. Crystal had been seriously hurt. September's injuries weren't as severe, but her left forearm had a compound fracture. With no antiseptic wipes, no sterile bandages and no first-aid kit—all of which were still packed safely in her saddle pack on her horse—she had done all she could.

She couldn't let her fear win. The horses would have returned to the stable, although it was miles away down Bear Mountain. Comanche was well trained and fond of his molasses snacks. He would have gone straight home and that meant Colleen, her boss, knew they were missing. Search parties would have gone out immediately—probably ten hours ago or so.

"They know where we were headed, so everyone knows where to look," she reasoned, putting as much reassurance as she could in her voice. Crystal's condition could be fragile, and she had to give the girl strength. "They are coming. They will be here as soon as they can."

"What if they can't find us? What if they stop looking?"

"They won't do that, sweetie." September pressed her arm against the girl's gently, comfortingly. "Do you think your mom would let that happen?"

"No." Crystal had to almost be smiling. "Mom's a little intense."

"Yes, she is, and that's a great thing. A fantastic thing. She will mow this mountain down to find you. I'm absolutely sure about that, so no more worrying. Got it?"

"Got it." Crystal sighed, a desolate sound in the dark.

A nearly absolute dark. September looked up through the ragged hole in the earth above to the disappearing stars. A cloud layer was moving in from the coast, blotting out the twinkling lights one by one. The dank chill of the ground crept into her bones, and it was a cold that gripped with talons. She would never be warm again.

Where was their search party? It was the question she had been asking since their horses balked, probably feeling the earth shift beneath their hooves. It was a good hour's ride back to the stable. That meant a search party should have been passing by within an hour, maybe two. Although she had listened diligently and watched carefully, there had been no sign of anyone riding the trail hunting for them. Did that mean no one would be coming? How long could they last, injured and without food or water or even a blanket for warmth? Was it possible they would die in this thirty-foot grave?

If so, this wasn't how she wanted to go, afraid and wishing she could change so much of her life. Her mess of a life. She drew in a rattling breath, leaned back against the cold earthen wall and closed her eyes against the thrum of pain inside her head. No one twenty-three years old should die with regrets. It wasn't right that she had so many of them.

If she had one do-over, it would be to go back in time exactly two years, two months and ten days and force Tim out of the army. To have made her fiancé realize that he had done his part in serving several tours of duty overseas. That he didn't have to stay in the military.

If she had been adamant, if she had stood her ground, then he would still be alive today and she wouldn't be in this abandoned shaft with an injured child weakening by the hour, bits of earth crumbling down on top of them.

Please, Lord. Send somebody before it's too late for Crystal. She sent the prayer heavenward, but feared it was not strong enough to escape this dark hole. Her faith was not exactly rock solid these days. She feared God had given up on her. She didn't blame Him one bit.

"I'm c-cold."

"Here, lean closer to me." She lifted her arm, carefully scootching closer to the injured girl. It was all she could offer.

The little girl leaned against her with another sigh, and September held her. She felt the fine chills of Crystal's body and feared she was slipping into shock. She could do nothing more for the child, who she feared was bleeding internally. Before the sun had gone down, there had been just enough light to see the growing bruise on the girl's abdomen. There was only so much basic first aid could do.

"September?" Crystal's voice sounded feeble, as if she were fading away. "What is it like to die?"

"I don't know." She felt the strike of the past, as if she was being pulled back to the cold, lifeless shock two years, two months and ten days ago. She had just turned into her driveway after coming home from the grocery store and seen the army chaplain and Tim's commanding officer at her front door.

She shut off her feelings to block the pain. After all this time, she still battled the overwhelming wave of grief. What had death been like for Tim? Had he known it was coming or was it so sudden, he didn't know? Had he suffered? Was his last thought of her? She hated how time had begun to dim his memory. She could no longer pull his image up in her mind as clearly. It felt doubly cruel.

"Jesus is supposed to be in heaven waiting for us, but what if I don't go there?" Crystal's voice wobbled. "What if I'm not good enough?"

"Jesus loves you, Crystal." She didn't feel equipped to be reassuring anyone's faith. "Please stop worrying and relax. You need to rest."

"Okay." The girl sounded all wrong—as if her condition were worsening, as if she were fading away.

Please, Lord, don't let that happen. It wasn't fair that Crystal had been so wounded when she had not been. She adjusted her broken arm carefully, where it rested on her thigh, and ignored the sheering pain. Take anything from me, Lord, and give it to Crystal. Please use it to save her life.

No answer came. The last stars winked out. The little girl beside her gave a sob, as if she were running out of hope, too. September's stomach clamped tight with prickly fear for the girl. The truth was, she felt as if God could not see them and suspected He didn't care.

And wasn't that a sad way to feel? Her breath hitched in her lungs with a sharp pain. What happened to the woman she used to be? She dug deep, past the hard, suffocating shell of grief, and tried to see her old self, the one she had lost along with Tim and their dreams. That September would not be on the edge of despair. She would be certain God would see her to safety.

She'd had such perfect faith back then and doubt would never have crept in. Nor the certainty that she was forgotten in this grave deep in the earth.

How had she come to this place in her spiritual life? She felt blood trickling down her forehead—the cut must have started bleeding again—and gingerly blotted it with her T-shirt hem. The two years were a blur as she'd fought to put one foot in front of the other and make it through each minute, each hour, each day. Now she found herself here, trapped in the earth, more lost than she knew how to say.

"I feel real bad, September." Crystal sobbed once, just once.

"Hang in there, sweetie." She adored her little riding student; she felt useless to help her now. She tightened her hold on the girl. "Close your eyes and rest."

A snapping branch shattered the vast silence. Hope flared to life. She eased her arm around the girl and sat up, not daring to say anything or to even think the words. After all, it could be a wild animal passing by and not a rescue party. But still, it could be. She carefully rose upward, laying her good hand on the damp clay wall for support. Bright spots flashed in front of her eyes and the pounding in her head felt like the worst of thunderstorms. She kept her thoughts clear and strained for the tiniest sign that anyone was nearby.

"Hi, there." A man's rough baritone preceded the shine of a halogen flashlight.

There was something about that voice, both familiar and startling. Her thumping brain couldn't make sense of it right off. He took a moment to look away, as if signaling to more people out of her sight. Her double vision made it hard at first to recognize the striking, chiseled lines of his face, the high, proud forehead and straight bridge of his nose.

"You two are a welcome sight." He grinned down at her with an easy friendliness that spun her back in time.

"Hawk." Tim's best friend. Her blood went cold. Seeing his shadowed face sent her into another shock wave. Tremors quaked through her as she stared, open-mouthed. The last time she'd seen him it had been dark, too, as dark as this mine shaft, the night full of loss and sorrow where no light could reach.

Why did it have to be him? Couldn't their rescuer be someone—anyone—other than Mark Hawkins?

"September Stevens, you look worse for the wear. Contusion. Concussion, maybe? Your arm's broken?"

She nodded, struggling to think past her shock. "Crystal's hurt. I think she needs a helicopter."

"Got it." Their gazes met and the force of it was like a punch. She knew without asking that he understood what she couldn't say, not without panicking the girl. He turned toward the child. "Crystal, hello there. Can you see me?"

"Ye-ah." She sounded weak. Too weak.

"Good, 'cause I'm comin' down to fetch you. You are the prettiest girl I've ever rescued." Unruffled, that was Hawk, and beyond the tough-as-bedrock Army Ranger was the heart of a truly kind man. He climbed into a harness and tied off. "Everything's gonna be fine now. You hear me?"

"Ye-ah." Even in terrible pain, the girl managed a small, brief smile.

September's knees were watery, so she sank back down beside the girl, watching as Hawk tested the rope and nodded to the other rescuers somewhere out of her sight. Good to go, he rappelled through the darkness, the rasp of the rope the only sound between them. Their ordeal was over, and they were found. That ought to bring her sheer relief. It didn't. Knowing their rescue came at the price of seeing Hawk again was no comfort. She winced when his feet hit ground. His presence seemed to draw every particle of air from the underground cave.

"We'll get Crystal up first," he murmured, leaning close. She could feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the mix of mountain air, leather and exhaust clinging to his clothes. "We've got a chopper coming…" He paused to catch the gurney being lowered on a rope. "And Crystal's mom knows she's been found."

"Good." What a relief. She thought of Patty Toppins, a concerned, caring mom who had to be frantic with terror. Dully, she realized Hawk was kneeling next to Crystal. She cleared her throat. "Let me help."

"No need." His gloved hand caught hers and sent a shock through her system.

Alarmed, she wrenched her hand away, bumping into the earthen barrier. Her breathing came raggedly, her pulse thudded too loudly in her ears. Why had she reacted so strongly to Hawk's touch? Why had he unsettled her? She blinked, realizing another man was circling around to assist Hawk. Someone else roped down without her noticing. Too much was happening, and she couldn't seem to focus. It must be because of the concussion.

Hawk had already turned back to business, the wide set of his shoulders visible in the eerie shaft of light from above. It was good to see him. It was horrible to see him. She felt useless as the men started an IV for the girl and strapped her into the gurney. The second man hooked in. She caught a glimpse of Crystal's face, ashen in the harsh lighting, before the ground team hoisted her swiftly upward into waiting hands. The whop-whop of a helicopter told her help had arrived just in time.

"Let me take a look at you, September." Hawk's voice, gentle with concern. "You're hurt."

"Nothing like Crystal." It was too hard to look him in the eye, tougher still to see the shadows of the life and the dreams, which were gone. He reminded her of what was lost. Of the determined, competitive, patriotic man she had wanted to marry. A part of her had died right along with Tim. She wished she could step farther away from him, but there wasn't room enough to escape him. Stuck against the earth with nowhere to go, she was forced to stand while he inched closer. The cold damp seeped through her shirt and she shivered.

"Look up." Hawk shone a light into her eyes and flicked it away. He did it a second time, frowning.

She wanted to pretend he was a stranger, a man she did not know. It felt as if parts of her cracked again after she'd worked so hard to keep together. Panic crept through her and she pushed away. "I'm fine, Hawk. I just need to get out of here, that's all."

"I don't think you're fine. You're going to need stitches." His gaze raked across her face like a touch. "You've got quite a concussion. And what about that arm? That's going to need surgery."

"I'm alive. That's fine in my book." Maybe she sounded a little harsh, but it had been a terrible day and a worse night. Seeing him suddenly like this was the last thing she could deal with. She couldn't risk going back to that dark, broken place. "All I need is one of those harness things. Can you call up for one?"