Soldier on Her Doorstep (4 page)

“Just call if you need anything. Bathroom's the last room down the hall.”

He nodded.

“Well, good night then,” she said.

“Night,” he replied.

Lisa pulled the door shut behind him. And walked away.

The image of him standing forlorn, bag over one shoulder and hot chocolate in hand, stayed with her, though.

She went back down the stairs, careful to avoid the noisy steps, and flicked off the lights. She reached to switch on a lamp instead.

The paper bag Alex had given her rested on the side table. Her fingers took ownership of it. Lisa found herself wondering whether the bag had come with Alex from war or if it was something he had put the items in after he'd arrived home.

She tipped out the contents. A crinkled photo of Lilly fell on to her lap. Lisa retrieved it and held it up to the light. Lilly was maybe four years old in the shot. Her blonde hair was caught into a tiny ponytail, and she was sitting on the grass.

Lisa remembered the day well. William had been between postings. They'd had an entire summer together—probably the best summer of her life. Lilly had been entertaining them right up until that moment, when she'd gotten a bee sting.

It had been William she'd run to for comfort. It always had been when he'd been home. Like she wanted to spend as much time with her daddy before he left as possible.

Lisa put the photo back on the table. She reached for William's tags this time, and slung them around her neck. The cool hit of metal chilled her chest, but she didn't remove them. Instead she let her left hand hover over them. Feeling him. Remembering him. Loving him.

Then she took the letters out. There were three of them in total. She guessed he had been waiting for an opportunity to send them.

Her heart skipped when she unfolded the first one. Saw his neat, precise writing as it filled the page.

To my darling wife.

He'd always started his letters the same way. He hadn't been one of those soldier husbands who'd been macho and brave with his family. He'd always told her he loved her on the phone,
whenever he'd been able to call, regardless of how many men surrounded him. They'd always been close.

Lisa bit the inside of her lip as a wave of tears threatened. Her bottom lip started to quiver and she pushed her teeth in harder. But every word she read, every sentence that pulled her into his letter, made more tears form, until they rained a steady beat on her cheeks.

She could taste them as the salty wetness fell, trickling into her mouth.

William had died months ago, and in the year before that she'd only seen him once—the six weeks he'd spent at home on leave.

But when she read the words he had so lovingly penned for her it made her feel as if they'd never spent any time apart at all. As if he was in the room, his warm body tucked behind her on the sofa, whispering the words in her ear.

They'd been best friends, her and William. Friends before they'd become lovers.

They were friends first—that was what they'd always said to one another. Friends because they would do anything for one another, comfort one another and support one another through anything. Friends because they didn't want to hold one another back or stop the other from doing what they wanted.

And as his friend she had a strange feeling that he wouldn't be nearly as upset about the tiny flare of attraction she had briefly—very briefly—felt for the man staying upstairs as most deceased husbands would. He was so different from William, but Alex reminded her in so many ways of him. Made her pine for her husband all over again.

William had always said to her, every time he'd left to go back offshore, that if anything ever happened to him she was to move on and be happy. That she wasn't to grieve and stay in a black hole of sadness.

It wasn't that she wanted to move on. Not yet. Not at all. She just didn't want to feel guilty for being mildly attracted
to another man. A flicker of attraction, nothing more, but still something she had wanted to chastise herself for at the time.

With Alex upstairs, she didn't want to feel unfaithful to William. Because she
had
felt a stirring within herself. She couldn't lie. There was no denying it. He had made a tiny beat pound inside her chest.

He was a troubled soldier. She was a widow.

But it didn't mean she couldn't appreciate that he was an attractive man.

Was it right that she'd asked him to stay the night? She hoped so. From his lack of response earlier, it was obvious he didn't have anywhere else to go.

And she'd never turn a friend of William's away.

L
ISA
watched through the window as Lilly tripped along the lakefront, looking over her shoulder every few steps to check that Alex was following. The child had dragged him outside as soon as they'd finished breakfast, and he'd been forced to accompany her. She wasn't talking to him, but her expressions said a million words. Boston trotted along behind, his nose tipped to sniff the air.

Lisa moved away to put her coffee mug in the sink, and stopped for a heartbeat to look out the other, larger kitchen window. The water twinkled at her, comforted her. Then a tree, waving, caught her eye. Made her glance at the little cottage only just visible.

She tried not to smile.

That was it!

She had always believed in destiny, and as the cottage peeked back at her an idea hit her.

It was the perfect solution.

It would give Alex time to fish, and she could get to know the man who had seen her husband gulp his last breath and try to help him.

She looked at the cottage again. When they'd first moved here they'd talked about doing all sorts of things to it. Turning it into guest accommodation…making it into a studio for her to write in. But in the end having strangers to stay for a bit of extra money had worried her more than anything, and the last
thing she'd want would be to work on her recipe books away from the kitchen.

The last time William was home they'd had a poke around out there. Dumped some old boxes and wiped some cobwebs away. Then they'd decided it would be for Lilly—as a playhouse while she was young, and as a teenage retreat for when she was older.

They had called it a cottage, but it wasn't really worthy of the name. Maybe a cabin was more fitting? There was one large room that doubled as the living and sleeping quarters, plus an old bathroom and a measly kitchenette.

Alex caught her eye. He glanced into the house at her. She raised a hand in a wave. He didn't smile back, but she saw recognition in his eyes. Like he was reaching out to her.

He was afraid.

She decided to go out and rescue him.

She was no therapist, but she could tell when people needed healing, and Alex Dane needed a lot of rest and recovery.

So did Lilly.

Lisa just had to convince him to stay.

 

Alex felt lost. It wasn't that he didn't like it here—the place was magical. A silent lake bordered the property, and it felt as if it belonged exclusively to this parcel of land. But he could see it was huge in size. The neighboring properties would border it too. And on the other side a huge state forest or something equally large loomed.

But even though the place felt magical he still felt uncomfortable. It had been so long since he'd been around people who weren't soldiers. So long since he'd been able to just relax, act like a normal human being.

He looked back to the house again and saw that Lisa was outside now, walking toward him. She was hard not to watch. There was an openness, a kindness about her face that seemed to draw him in. But these days that kind of face was more
terrifying to him than armed insurgents. It made him more nervous, more unsure, than any wartime scenario.

“You like it out here?” she asked as she approached him.

He looked back at the water. “It's pretty special.”

She moved to stand right next to him. He didn't look at her.

“I've lived in Alaska all my life, and when I saw this place I knew I'd live here forever,” she said wistfully.

He envied her that—having a place to call home all your life. He'd moved from town to town into different foster homes before he'd been old enough to escape that life. Having a house, a place, anything that remained the same, was something he'd always wished for.

“You mentioned you wanted to do some fishing?” she prompted.

Alex nodded. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder to point. “I've got my rod, a sleeping bag and some camping equipment in the car. Thought I'd just see where the wind took me for a while.”

He could feel her eyes roving over him. It made him feel uncertain.

“But you were planning on staying in Alaska?”

He shrugged. Perhaps.

Lisa turned away and started walking. He didn't want to watch her but he couldn't help it. She had tight jeans on that hugged her legs, ballet flats covering her feet, and a T-shirt that skimmed her curves. He swallowed a lump of…what? It had been so long since he'd felt attracted to a woman that he didn't know what to think.

He ground his teeth. What he had to think of was that she had belonged to someone else—to the very man who had taken a bullet for him. And she was also someone's mommy.

He determinedly averted his gaze.

“Alex, there's something I want to show you.”

His head snapped up. Maybe if he'd been better at sticking to the plan he wouldn't be torturing himself like this.

Still, it would be rude not to follow her.

He started to walk. Then stopped when he saw her standing at the foot of a hodge-podge-looking cabin perched behind a cluster of low trees. He hadn't even noticed it before. Although if you weren't looking it wasn't exactly visible for all to see.

Lisa pushed at the door, and he watched as it slowly fell open. She stood back and gestured to him with one hand. “Come have a look.”

He obeyed. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he had a scout around with his eyes. The interior was dim. Light filtered in through grubby windowpanes, it smelt a touch musty, and there was an old bed lying forlorn in the corner.

He looked at her for an answer.

She smiled. “If you're looking for a place to bunk down for a while, we'd love to have you.”

Alex looked from Lisa, where she stood on the grass outside still, back into the cabin. Stay? Here?

She must have seen the scared rabbit look on his face.

“I mean, just until you figure out where you want to go. A couple of weeks, perhaps?” she offered gently.

He kept staring at her incredulously. He couldn't help it.

“It's not that I wouldn't want you to stay in the house. I just thought you'd prefer some space,” she went on.

He shook his head. A slow movement at first that built up to something faster. “Lisa, I…”

“No, don't refuse.” She ignored his frantic head-shaking and started to walk back toward the water. It was only meters from the cabin—so close you could practically swing through the trees and land in it.

She swung back around to face him. “I need to fix the cottage up, and it's not like I'm ever going to be able to do it myself. Please. You can stay, fish, help me out, then move on once it's done.”

He didn't know what to say. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of staying here. The place was great. But how could he take up this kind of hospitality knowing that her husband
wasn't coming home because he'd chosen to save Alex's life? How could he look at that little girl every day and know that he was the reason she wasn't going to see her daddy ever again?

“I can't stay.” His voice was gruff but resolute.

“Alex.” She moved closer to him. He saw her hand hover, as though she was about to touch him, and then she crossed her arms. Perhaps she'd already sensed he was damaged goods. “Please. It would mean a lot to me.”

Until he braved telling her the truth.

He ignored the familiar trickle of guilt. It had followed him his whole life, was something he was used to living with. But he still recognized it.

“I don't…” He clenched his fists in frustration at not knowing the right thing to say.

She waited patiently.

“You don't want me here,” he finally gritted out.

She looked surprised. This time she did reach for him.

He tried to ignore the flicker within him at her touch. There was something too intimate, too close, about seeing her fingers over his forearm. He didn't want to be touched by her. “I
do
want you here,” she insisted. “To be honest, I'd appreciate the company. And fixing this place up was meant to be William's task once he came home.”

He fought not to grind his teeth. There was the guilt again. If William hadn't sacrificed his own life for Alex's he'd be here, home, attending to the cabin himself.

“Think on it. If you do decide to stay you'll be helping me out, and you'd have somewhere to fish,” she wheedled with a smile.

Her grin was infectious. He didn't know when he'd last wanted to laugh, but she was having some sort of effect on him.

“I don't know,” he muttered, but he saw a flicker of something cross her face. She knew he was cracking.

“Just say you'll think about it,” she insisted.

He nodded. Just a hint of a nod, but she didn't miss it.

“You think it'll take just two or three weeks to fix this place up?” he asked warily.

She nodded, a gleam of obvious triumph in her eyes.

Alex sighed. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. And he owed it to her to help out. “Okay, I'll stay for a while,” he said.

“Great!”

He still wasn't completely sure about it, but at least he could do something for her. He had no plans. No direction. He'd just wanted to give her William's things and then spend some time alone. Find himself. Think.

He looked around. The water twinkled at him. The trees seemed to wave. The cabin looked sturdy, albeit rundown.

There were plenty of worse places he could have ended up.

Besides, it was just a few weeks.

“It feels like the right thing, you know, having you here for a while. Makes me feel like part of William is here with you,” she said softly.

“Thanks, ma'am. I really appreciate it.” He did. Even if he found it hard to show. Foster care did that to you. Stripped you of emotion. Besides guilt and anger, that was. The army hadn't helped much either.

She just smiled.

“I'll make sure to stay out of your way,” he added.

Lisa shook her head. “You don't need to stay out of my way. But you might want to stay in the house again tonight, until we've had a bit of a tidy up in here.”

He nodded his agreement.

“Come on—I'll show you around,” she offered.

Alex fell into step beside her. “You been here a long time?”

Lisa slowed so their steps matched. “We moved here before we were married. It's the kind of place you find and never want to leave.”

He liked that. The idea of having a place that you knew would make you happy for life.

“You have a place that you want to settle now that you're a civilian?” she asked.

He shook his head politely, but it was hard to unclamp his jaw to find words.

She glanced at him. Made eye contact briefly. He read her face, knew that she hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable.

“I grew up here. Alaska born and bred,” she continued.

Much better. He could listen to her talk all day so long as he could keep his own mouth shut about his past. Some things were better left forgotten.

Like where he was from. Family. And why he had no one in his life besides the army. Army life
was
family life for him. It was virtually all he'd ever known.

 

Lisa didn't know quite what to feel. Had she pushed Alex too hard? The last few hours had passed pleasantly, but she was worried about forcing him if he wasn't ready.

Maybe she had been a touch insistent. But that was beside the point. He needed a place to stay—somewhere to just be himself and work through the issues he'd brought home with him.

She could do with the company, and Lilly could do with whatever it was that Alex did to her. Her face hadn't lost the shine it had enjoyed all morning. Not a word had been said, but her actions had been more than obvious. The girl was happy and, lately, that was rare.

Alex was a mystery, though. Why did he have nowhere to go? No family? At least none that he wanted to talk about?

She hoped he'd tell her. Eventually. But she only had a few weeks to coax it out of him—unless he decided to stay on longer. But the flighty look in his eyes told her that staying put was not part of his plan.

 

Alex hacked at the over-hanging branches as if they'd done him some serious harm in the past. He had acquired a good
pile already. A body of leaves, branches and debris littered the ground beside him.

It felt good to work up a sweat.

The morning air was coolish, but nice against his hot skin. His stomach was growling for breakfast but he ignored it. Even when it hissed and spat like a cougar.

Yesterday he'd had mixed feelings about staying. Issues about hanging around. But this morning everything seemed different. Maybe it was the good night's sleep—his first in a while—or maybe the fresh air was doing something to him, but he just felt different. And it was good to be doing something positive.

It was still unnerving. Being around William's family. Staying in another man's house. But William was gone now, and Alex had made him a promise. He might have fulfilled that promise, passing William's widow the items and telling her the words, but what kind of man would he be to come all this way and not help a woman in need? He owed it to the man. Owed him his life, in fact.

Even without this drawing them together, making him feel closer to William even though he had passed away, he and William had shared a bond. They had been in the same small unit more than once, and being posted to the places they had been sent meant they'd shared a kind of trust that was hard to explain. It was what made being here even harder—because he knew how much William had cherished what he'd left behind to serve his country.

Alex might have lost his family young, but honor and integrity were high on his list of morals. Of values. He knew how different his own life might have turned out if he'd had his family, if he hadn't lost everything as a child. Even the memories he'd clung to all these years didn't make up for what he'd lost. So he knew how important this little family was.