Joanna Sims - The Sergeant's Christmas Mission

“Hi, there.” The redhead had dark green eyes and a lovely oval face. “I’m Savannah. And this little sweet pea is Amanda.”

“Rebecca Adams,” she said. “And these are my boys, Carson and Caleb.”

“Rebecca Adams,” Savannah repeated. “Why does that name sound so familiar to me? Are you new to Bozeman?”

She nodded. “This is our first full week here. I inherited a house from my aunt and I thought, why not give Montana a chance.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Savannah bounced Amanda a little to keep her smiling. “What was your aunt’s name?”

“Ginger Martin. Everyone called her Ginny.”

Savannah’s expression lit up like a light bulb had just gone off in her head. “ That’s why your name is familiar. My brother-in-law is your tenant.”

“Shane?”

Savannah nodded. “I’m married to his brother, Bruce.”

“Small world.”

“Small town.”

The pastor brought everyone’s attention back to the front of the church.

Savannah reached out and touched her arm. In a whisper she said, “We’ll talk more after church.”

At the end of the service, and against her harshly whispered words, Carson bolted out of the church with Caleb tagging behind. Savannah fell in beside her as they slowly milled out into the sweet afternoon sun-filled air.

“So, what did you think?” Savannah asked.

“About the service?”

A nod. “I hope you liked it. I’d love to have someone to sit with on Sundays; not that Amanda isn’t great company.”

“I couldn’t believe how good she was; she didn’t make a peep the whole time.”

“I know. It’s the strangest thing. She cries plenty the rest of the time. But during church service, not a peep.”

“Well, I liked it. I want to come back.”

“Oh, that’s good news.” Savannah stopped at the crosswalk. “Then let’s sit together next Sunday.”

“Okay.” Rebecca felt heartened that she might have already met a potential friend in Savannah. Making a connection to the community was one of the reasons she had wanted to find a church to attend.

They waved goodbye and Savannah headed off in the opposite direction. When she heard her name called, Rebecca turned around to see that Savannah was walking quickly toward her.

“A thought just hit me, and I felt like I needed to say this to you.”

Rebecca waited for the words.

“I don’t know if you were aware of the fact that Shane is a veteran.”

“I am.”

“He did a lot of tours.” Savannah’s expression reflected her concern when she spoke of her brother-in-law.

“My father was a Vietnam vet.” Rebecca wanted to reassure her new acquaintance that she understood, on a deeper level, what it was like to live with a veteran who may not have returned from war the same as they had left.

“Then you understand.”

“Yes. I really do.”

“Well.” Savannah ducked her head toward her and lowered her voice as if she was sharing a secret. “I know Shane can seem a bit off-putting, but I want you to know, that man truly has a heart of gold.”

* * *

Shane had played a gig the night before and had slept off his hangover, so when he awakened on Sunday afternoon, he felt as if all had been set right in his world. He started his day by taking care of Recon’s needs, which included a wrestling match on the floor. And then he cracked open a beer for brunch.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get some work done.”

Recon followed him to the garage. He had managed to get his hands on a 1943 Indian 841, one of the one thousand that had been built to spec specifically for the US Army during World War II. Shane didn’t mind living in a small apartment because he could pour more of his money into restoring the vintage motorcycle.

Shane rolled the motorcycle out to the paved area right in front of his apartment. He’d been working on the restoration for several years. He had completely disassembled the bike, checked every part and then reassembled it. The motorcycle had also been restored to its original army camouflage green. He felt proud of his accomplishment, but also a little sad. Restoring this motorcycle had been his focus for years; what was he going to do with his time once the job was complete?

He was tinkering with a lug nut when Recon started barking at the sound of a car pulling in the driveway. He’d figured Rebecca and her boys were gone because it was quiet over at the main house.

“Stay.” Shane gave the command to the dog. Recon whined a little, looked back at him, but sat down and stayed put.

The quiet he had been enjoying was interrupted by the sound of Carson and Caleb chasing each other up the driveway, their laughter, surprisingly, not annoying him all that much. The two boys ran toward the back of the house, but when they spotted Recon, they made a sharp right and headed his way. Recon wagged his tail and barked a greeting.

“Hey.” Carson was wearing a suit, but the tie was draped around his neck, and he was barefoot, carrying his shoes and socks in his hand.

“Hi, guys,” Shane responded.

“Hi.” Caleb waved his hand in front of his body, like he was drawing a rainbow, and grinned at him, his head tilted to the side, squinting against the sunlight. “Can I pet Recon?”

“He’s been waiting all day for someone to give him some attention,” Shane said. “Go for it.”

Caleb fell to his knees beside the large dog and wrapped his arms around Recon’s neck. Recon didn’t move, letting the young boy hug him tight.

“Cool,” Carson said.

The boy’s appreciation for his motorcycle made Shane smile fleetingly. “Do you know what a lug wrench is?”

Carson nodded.

“My tool kit is right over there.” Shane nodded.

Carson dropped his shoes, jogged the short distance to the toolbox and then hurried back with the lug wrench.

“Good man,” Shane said. “Thank you.”

“Are they bothering you?” Rebecca appeared around the corner.

Shane glanced up from his work, glanced down, and then his eyes, almost beyond his control, went straight back to Rebecca. She was wearing a pretty sundress with a wide belt that emphasized her small waist and curvy hips. The dress was modest, and yet, Shane found it to be very sexy on Rebecca. As she drew closer, he could see that her cheeks were flushed, her pretty eyes were shining and her copper-brown curls framed her face in the most enchanting way. Today, Rebecca was happy.

“We’re helping,” Carson said.

“They’re helping.” Shane winked at Rebecca’s eldest son.

Caleb was lying on his back in the grass, giggling and being licked on the face by Recon.

“Oh, my goodness.” Rebecca’s attention was captured by the vintage Indian. “Is this an original 841 or a replica?”

“It’s no replica.” Shane stood.

She circled the motorcycle, admiring his work.

“Did you restore this yourself?”

He nodded. “Most of the parts are original. I’ve been at it for years. I only use reproductions when I can’t find the real deal.”

“Your grandfather would have lost his mind over this, Carson,” she said to her son. Then to him, she added, “My father was an Indian fanatic.”

“What’s so special about it?” Carson asked.

Shane was about to respond, but Rebecca put her arm around her son’s shoulders and said, “This is one of only a thousand that were made specifically for the army during the Second World War. This could be in a museum, that’s how special it is.”

“Why’d they only make a thousand?” her son asked.

Rebecca gave a little shrug. “The Jeep came along and the Army didn’t order any more.”

Shane knew he was staring at her; he couldn’t seem to help himself. He’d never known another woman to know the history of his prized motorcycle.