Jenna Mindel - A Soldier's Prayer

She’d always come back with a sharp retort to his teasing. He liked that about Monica. She’d never been a wimp. She had a stubborn streak and didn’t like to show any weakness. More tomboy than princess, her choice of swanky clothes and makeup seemed at odds with the girl he’d grown up with. But then again, maybe he held onto his youthful memories of Monica too tightly because he didn’t want to notice how beautiful she’d become nor accept how attractive he found her.

Tipping his head, he asked, “Why’d you come up here alone?”

“Just needed to get away for a few days.” She took another sip, but didn’t glance up from the fire.

“Everything okay back home?”

“Everyone’s fine.”

“But not you?”

She looked at him with those expressive blue eyes of hers reflecting anguish. “I’ve got some decisions to make.”

“Ahh. Is there a guy involved?”

She uttered a short bark of laughter. “Not anymore. He broke it off. We weren’t serious or anything.”

It was Cash’s turn to chuckle at the cavalier tone in her voice. “Monica, Monica, Monica. What’d you do?”

Her face turned grim. “Absolutely nothing.”

“And yet he broke it off—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “I’m not in a good place for a relationship, anyway.”

He leaned forward, curious. “Why not?”

She finished her drink and crumpled the can, then stood. “Not something I really want to talk about, either.”

Warning bells went off inside his brain. Monica wasn’t one to hide anything. Worse, where was that sharp tongue of hers? She looked defeated and that wasn’t at all like her.

Cash tried again. “If you do want to talk about it, I can listen.”

She patted his shoulder. “I know you can. Thanks.”

He grabbed her hand and gave it a friendly squeeze.

She surprised him by hanging on tight. “Good night, Cash.”

“See you in the morning. I hope you stick around for breakfast. I make pretty mean pancakes.”

She let go of his hand. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good.” He listened as she made her way inside the cabin, closing the slider door with a whoosh.

He stayed by the fire, watching the low flames awhile longer. He’d do what he could to convince Monica to stay on for a bit. Cash needed her help, and maybe she needed them, to give her mind a rest from whatever decisions she faced.

He wouldn’t pry into her situation, but he’d pray for her. He’d been praying a lot lately when he wasn’t yelling at God for taking yet another person he cared about from him. As for Monica, he shouldn’t know too much and it’d be better if she didn’t tell him. He was leaving soon, so he didn’t want any entanglements with a woman back home. Getting too close wouldn’t work for him. It might cost him his edge.

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