The Soldier's Holiday Vow by Jillian Hart

fascia.”
    â€œMy what?”
    â€œThe board beneath the roofline.”
    â€œOh. No idea. I haven’t looked up in a while, but there are a few drips when it rains.”
    â€œThis is the Pacific Northwest. It tends to rain a lot here. Hello.” He was chuckling, knowing full well what she was doing. Downplaying the problem because she knew what was coming next. “There’s no avoiding it. We’re friends now. You have to accept my help.”
    â€œIt’s a law? Written into the Constitution?”
    â€œI’m sure it is. I’ll put it on my to-do list.” She wasn’t getting rid of him easily. He wasn’t a man who walkedaway from a mission or regrets. He spotted a trio of cardboard boxes next to the big front window. Indentations in the carpet showed that a piece of furniture had been recently moved. “That would make a perfect spot for a Christmas tree.”
    â€œWhich is why I moved the couch. Don’t give me that look. I did it before the accident. Last weekend.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid to ask about that expression on your face. You are planning something.”
    â€œI’m a planner. It’s who I am.” He didn’t deny it. Regrets could haunt a man when he was belly down in the sand, taking fire. That meant he couldn’t afford to back off now. “Since we’re friends and all, I have a few thoughts to help you out while you are down and out.”
    â€œIn case you haven’t noticed, I am getting around just fine. My arm is casted, that’s all. The rest of me is good to go.”
    She tried to hide it, but he wasn’t a fool. He knew how loss could strip you of your heart, breaking it off piece by piece until there was no light, no love and no hope left. Sometimes a person needed a hand up, that was all. More than anything he wanted to be that hand for her.
    â€œGetting a tree. Putting up lights. Decorating.” He had reached the door and turned, drawing out his time with her. “Seems like doing all that is going to be hard with that cast.”
    â€œThen it’s a good thing I’m not going to go all-out for Christmas. I’m going to haul out my little plastic tree—”
    â€œPlastic? Sorry. No. I can’t allow that.”
    â€œThe last time I looked, you were not in charge ofme.” She planted her good arm on her hip. “I’m used to you pushy alpha types. You don’t intimidate me, Mark Hawkins.”
    â€œI’m not trying to intimidate you.” He grinned, bringing out his dashing twin dimples. He had a smile that could charm glaciers into melting. “I’m helping out a friend. Remember, that’s what we are?”
    â€œI owe my life to you. How could I forget?” Yes, he really was far too charming for his good—and hers. “I know what you’re up to.”
    â€œJust trying to help spread Christmas cheer. Do unto others. Help the less fortunate.” He sure appeared innocent.
    â€œSure you are.” She could see right through him to the pure kindness beneath. Hard not to appreciate that. “If you really have nothing else to do with your free time.”
    â€œI’m on leave. The rest of the year is mine.”
    He didn’t need to say the words, because she understood. He was lonely, too. One of his best friends was gone. She knew just what that was like.
    â€œHow about I drop by tomorrow?” He gave the knob a turn. Damp, chilly air puffed into the room. “We’ll see if we can do something about your lack of Christmas spirit.”
    â€œI may need help.” What she needed was a friend. She liked the idea that maybe he needed her.
    â€œThen prepare yourself. I fully intend to put you in a festive mood. Consider it fair warning.”
    â€œYes, Sergeant.” She couldn’t resist saluting him. He eased onto the front porch, reminding her of the man she’donce lost and the