Jenna Mindel - A Soldier's Prayer

Losing Cole, who’d been in the prime of his life, to a freak logging accident wasn’t something Cash had expected, much less prepared for, and it hurt. It hurt real bad.

He’d taken leave for his brother’s funeral, but now faced the task of helping his nephews accept that their dad was gone for good. Ethan acted out, while Owen had retreated. Regressed, Ruth had called it. Cash had some experience with brothers in arms who’d reacted similarly, but he was no expert. All he knew was that grief had a way of leaking out in strange forms.

Like now. Hearing that Dogman legend tore him up pretty good. The fictional spooky creature was said to linger in the woods of the Lower Peninsula, but folks liked to spread tales of sightings in the Upper, as well. Cole was probably one of them spreading those rumors, considering he’d spent a lot of time in the woods. Owning a forestry business, Cole had been an expert woodsman. He shouldn’t have died like he did, toppling a tree that had twisted backward and fallen on him.

Cash gritted his teeth once again until he got control. He had a job to do and that was keeping two little boys busy with fun for the next four days.

As Cash pulled into the driveway, he spotted a sporty blue Subaru and his thoughts skidded to a halt. They had company.

“Who’s here?” Ethan was out of the car in seconds, running toward the door.

Owen moved much slower, looking wary.

Cash scooped up the five-year-old and followed Ethan inside the cabin. He nearly ran the kid over, because Ethan had stopped cold and was staring ahead.

“Is she a princess?” he whispered.

Owen inhaled sharply.

Cash also stared at the ethereal vision before them, of sunlight pouring in a window behind a tall female with long blond hair. Her slender outline glowed golden in the late afternoon light and the sequined T-shirt she wore shimmered like diamonds.

She made quite the royal vision in jeans and that T-shirt, but one he recognized well. “No, boys. That’s no princess, it’s Monica Zelinsky. How are you, Stork?”

“Nice.” She sneered at the old nickname he’d given her when they were kids. “Cash Miller, is that really you under all that facial hair?”

“In the flesh.” He hadn’t shaved since he’d left base and had a bit of a beard going. He tried to let Owen down, but the kid clung to him.

“It’s been ages.” Monica stepped forward, out of the haze of golden sunlight. “Who do you have there?”

He’d always thought her attractive, even when she’d been a long-legged, skinny teen. The last time he’d seen her was over two years ago, at her brother’s wedding. Monica had been overly made up and stuffed into a shiny dress. Taking in the sequins on her T-shirt, he figured she liked the sparkle. She didn’t need all the glam. She shone from within and always had.

He cleared his throat. “My nephews. The older one is Ethan, and this little dude is Owen.”

“Hello.” Monica smiled.

Cash’s pulse kicked into high gear. That smile of hers always had the power to knock him off-kilter.

She scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would be here. Should I leave?”

“No.” Hadn’t he just prayed for help? It was as if God had answered that prayer by bringing her here. Bringing help until the boys’ mom and grandmother arrived. No way could she go. “Stay. Please. We’re going to grill out for dinner.”

Monica’s bright blue eyes narrowed. She looked torn, as if staying or leaving played a tug-of-war inside her head.

Cash wouldn’t blame her if she left, but he didn’t want her to. Not only could he use her help, but it’d been a long time since he’d seen her. He wouldn’t mind catching up a little.

She crouched down so she was eye level with Ethan. “What do you think? Do you mind if I stay for dinner?”

Ethan still gazed at her as if he expected a crown to materialize on her head. “I don’t mind.”

Monica stood and faced Owen, smiling once again. Her teeth were perfect and bleached white. She’d been one of two Zelinsky kids who had needed braces. “And what about you? Owen, is it?”

Owen hid his head against Cash’s neck, but he nodded.

“He’s sort of quiet these days.” Cash gave her a look that said he’d tell her later.

“Owen won’t talk. He hasn’t since our dad died,” Ethan answered.

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Monica looked sad. Really sad.

Her bright eyes had always been expressive. Her smart mouth, too. He remembered that there wasn’t much Monica wouldn’t say, and that’s what had endeared her to him when they’d first met. He’d been fourteen and she’d been ten.

Cash set the boy down and spread his arms. “There you have it, the Miller dilemma. Why don’t you guys go wash up and then we can get the burgers made for the grill. Ethan, see that Owen changes his shirt.”

The boys ran for their room, feet stomping and door banging.

Monica smirked as she poked a spot of melted ice cream in the middle of Cash’s T-shirt. “I see you had ice cream before dinner.”

He tensed under her touch. “That’s what uncles are for.”

She cupped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry about Cole.”

“Thanks.” Tempted to draw her to him, he stepped back instead.

Other than a shared embrace when she’d turned eighteen, Cash hadn’t hugged Monica since his father died when he was sixteen. Not only was she four years younger than him, making such things a little awkward, but any guy worth his salt didn’t mess with his best friend’s little sister. Not ever. Growing up, she had been resolutely off-limits.

Fast forward several years and his change of career from an enlisted marine to the Marine Corps Forces Special Ops Command made serious relationships with women off-limits, as well. At least for him. Becoming a Marine Raider had been his choice, just like steering clear of Monica ever since that one kiss they’d shared on her eighteenth birthday...

“Cash?”

“Huh?” Had she been talking?

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to Cole’s funeral.” Monica tipped her head and all that gloriously long and stick-straight blond hair slid over her shoulder.

She had always been taboo, and it sure felt like she should be now. He experienced that familiar nip of awareness and like always, he brushed it aside, refusing to let the attraction grow.

“It’s not like we live close anymore. A five-hour drive round-trip makes for a long day.” Although Cash had been glad to see her parents there at the church. Matthew had made it because he was catching his freighter at port in Marquette the following day.

Ethan and Owen came tearing into the kitchen.

“Give it back!” Ethan chased his little brother who scooted out of reach waving a fidget spinner.

“Guys, tone it down.” Cash ran his hand over his whiskered chin. He’d shave when he had to, when he returned to duty on Labor Day, in a little over a week.

The boys tore into the living room.

Owen threw the fidget spinner at Ethan. Then the boys launched themselves onto the couch and clicked on the TV. The fight was over as quickly as it began.

He glanced at Monica and caught the turmoil in her face. “You okay?”

She nodded. “What can I do?”

He narrowed his gaze. “Not much you can do. These things happen.”

Again, the teasing smirk. “I meant dinner. How can I help?”

He blew out his breath, glad for a reason to click off the trip down his pain-filled memory lane. “You can help by making patties while I get the grill going.”

“Deal.” Monica looked into the living room. “Ethan and Owen, do you want to help?”

Ethan groaned, but Owen slipped off the couch and tiptoed toward Monica.