A Soldier for Christmas by Jillian Hart

I are going up into the national park next Friday to spend the night. I want to do that before I head out. With this thing going on in the Middle East, I’m gonna be hard-core, and I don’t know…I might not make it back until I’m discharged eighteen months from now.”
    She’d known that, so why did it feel as if she were choking on disappointment?
    “It’ll mean a lot to Dad, and to me, too. But I’ve got Sunday afternoon free. You’re gonna need to take a study break, right?”
    She cleared the emotion from her throat, but her voice sounded thick anyway. “Are you kidding? Finals start in a week. I’ll be half-comatose. I’ll need a serious study break.”
    “Something fun.”
    “What does a guy who hangs off of mountains for a living do for fun? ”
    “There’s hang gliding.”
    “Are you serious? I can’t do heights.”
    “How about BASE jumping?”
    “ What? I’d have to be insane, and I’m not there yet.”
    “Ice-climbing is out?”
    “Don’t go there, I’m warning you.” Although she sounded almost stern, the hint of a dimple at the corners of her mouth showed, even when she was doing her best to keep from grinning.
    “All right. How about this: if you get an A on your test, I pick. You get a B or less, then you can pick what we do.”
    “I’m only agreeing to this because I don’t think there’s any way that I’ll actually pull an A. The only problem is that I have a babysitting gig at six.”
    Mitch realized they’d stopped in the shadow of her building. There was his Jeep parked a few car lengths up the curb. Disappointment set in. He didn’t like the idea of having to leave her. “We’ll have you to your babysitting thing on time.”
    “How about I’ll meet you at the city park around noon, and I’ll bring my graded test. We’ll take it from there.”
    “The west entrance.” He jammed his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys. Sorting through the ring gave him something to focus on when he really wanted to do nothing more than brush his lips with hers, gently kiss her soft, rosebud mouth so she would know how he felt.
    But she wasn’t ready for that. She wasn’t ready for more.
    Yet.
    He didn’t blame her. He could relate. This was a scary, unknown path. Especially to a marine who was trained to be swift, silent and deadly, but when it came to this —matters of the heart—he wasn’t so capable.
    He walked backward so he could keep her in his sight. “Thanks for a good evening.”
    “I should be thanking you. Safe journeys, Mitch.”
    “Night.” He could walk away, but he couldn’t stop his tenderness for her that burned like a rocket’s glare in the dead of night.
    He didn’t know where this was leading. He only knew that God was leading him.
    He would trust in that.

Chapter Eight
    “A re you having fun yet?”
    Fun? Kelly studied Mitch over the rim of the giant inner tube she held on to for dear life, although the cool lapping eddy of the river’s edge only came to her knees. Fun? That settled it, he was definitely certifiable.
    The trouble was, he looked anything but. In running shorts and a military-green tank top, he radiated complete ease and self-assurance as he waded ahead of her into the deeper pull of the current.
    I’d have to be crazy to follow him.
    She took another step along the rocky river bottom—putting her sanity in serious question.
    She squinted through the blinding sunlight bouncing off the wide river’s surface at the intrepid man who obviously had no common sense. “This can’t be your idea of fun.”
    “You’d better believe it.” He stopped waist-deep in the mountain-fed river and took hold of her inner tube. “That’s some death grip you got there. Relax. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
    “Promises, promises.” She cast her gaze down river, contemplating all the ways she could drown.
    “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of water, too.”
    “Okay, I won’t tell you.” She bit her bottom lip to