Jillian Hart - The Soldier's Holiday Vow

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. ThatSeptember 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, openmouthed. 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.”