Джоанна Рок – A Soldier's Christmas: I'll Be Home for Christmas / Presents Under the Tree / If Only in My Dreams (страница 5)

The woman reached over and patted her hand, as if hearing the genuine misery in Ellie’s voice. Or maybe it was the mention of a baby. Ellie didn’t point out that it wasn’t her own child’s holiday she’d be missing; right now, she’d take whatever help she could get.

“Listen, you may not have any luck at this point, but a lot of people have gone to the car-rental counters hoping to get an SUV or something so they can drive out of the city ahead of the worst of the storm.”

Hope blossomed in her chest. Yes, it was a long way from New York to Chicago. But if she got on the road within the next hour or so, she should, indeed, be able to get ahead of the storm. Driving through the night, she ought to be able to find clear roads all the way home and arrive by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.

It was worth a try, anyway.

“Thank you so much,” she said, meaning it. “I’ll go there right away.” She glanced at the queue behind her, which had edged closer and closer as people pushed for their chance to hear the same bad news in person. “And good luck tonight. I hope you make it home to your family for Christmas.”

Hurrying away, she followed the signs through the terminal, searching for the car-rental area. As she came down the escalator and saw it, she also saw that the lines were probably at least double what they were upstairs.

Hell.

There weren’t enough SUVs in all of Manhattan to service this many people. Or even standard rental cars. Still, she wasn’t going to give up yet.

Heading for the counter that she gauged to have the shortest line, she didn’t notice that someone had stepped into her path. Not until she came within a step of walking right into a broad, camouflage-wearing chest.

“Ellie? Is it really you?”

That voice. Oh, God in heaven. Could this really be happening?

She looked up and saw The Face.

What did they say about déjà vu all over again? How many times in her life was she destined to run into this man at a moment and in a place where she least expected him?

It was Rafe. Older—pale, visibly exhausted—but still so handsome her heart forgot to beat and her brain cells began to leap and spark. He was dressed in rumpled fatigues and appeared unshaven, with eyes that were faintly bloodshot and a few fresh scars that immediately carved themselves into her soul.

“It is you.”

“Hello, Rafe.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Ditto.”

“Small world, huh?”

“Very.”

“What are you doing here? You don’t live in New York now, do you?”

She shook her head. “No, I was here for a conference. I was supposed to fly home this afternoon, but that didn’t work out too well.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you stranded, too?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m heading over to that rental counter to try to get a vehicle capable of getting me back to Chicago.”

He glanced over and slowly began to shake his head. “I’m sorry, you’re not going to have any luck.”

She frowned. “How do you know that?”

“I just came from there. That was the last counter I tried...and they just rented me their very last vehicle. It wasn’t even supposed to be rented in this weather, but the company apparently likes to help soldiers out, so they let me have it.”

That was great for him. But not for her.

“I’m not sure if it’s capable of getting me home for Christmas, but I’m damn sure going to give it my best shot.”

Uncertain, she glanced up at him, hearing something in his voice, something that both excited and confused her.

An invitation, perhaps?

He made it clear. “Want a lift?”

She gulped, swallowing so hard her throat wobbled. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, that intense, dark-eyed gaze never leaving her face. Her heart twisted as she noted the circles beneath those eyes, the almost bony leanness of his cheeks, the stubble, the scars, the...the sadness. There was no other word for it.

If Rafe had appeared weary the last time she’d seen him, after he’d been in the military for four years, now, after seven, he seemed almost broken. As if he’d been to the edge of the world, witnessed the worst it had to offer and only barely managed to crawl his way back toward sanity and civilization.

Of course, she wasn’t entirely sure you could call the day before Christmas Eve at a snowed-in airport either sane or civilized. Still, it had to be better than where he’d been living.

Outwardly, she maintained her poise, but deep inside, she wept for him, for what he’d seen and what he’d done and what he’d missed.

What they’d missed.

Damn it, how could he always affect her this way?

“What do you say, El?” he asked.

“You’re seriously going to drive all the way to Chicago?”

A faint grin widened that sexy mouth, but it didn’t seem entirely natural, as if he wasn’t used to smiling much anymore. “I haven’t been home for Christmas in three years—since the last we ran into each other. I promised my folks I’d be there this Christmas, and I intend to keep that promise.”

He shifted his heavy pack from one powerful shoulder to the other, and she couldn’t help appreciating the way the soft fabric of his fatigues hugged every ridge of muscle, from flexing arms down to thick, strong legs. He might be tired and careworn, but oh, God, was he still hot. The most masculine man she’d ever seen in her life.

This is not a good idea.

Being closed up in a car with him as they drove halfway across the country? It could take a whole day to reach their destination, and that was if they were lucky and got ahead of the worst weather. And every minute of the trip, she’d be trapped in a confined space with the one man she’d never been able to forget—the one whose very memory had cost her so much and had made her so drastically alter her plans for her life.

Could she really put herself through it?

“Come on, El. I could use the second pair of eyes, not to mention the company to keep me awake. Coffee might not cut it. I’ve been traveling for almost forty hours.”

“Couldn’t get them to fly you those last three, huh?”

“Don’t I wish. Military transport got me all the way from Kabul. I never imagined a bunch of damned snowflakes would stop me from getting the last eight hundred miles home.”

“Me, neither.”

“So, are you in?”

Another pause, another second to realize she would be making a huge mistake. But then there was one more thing. One more crazy thought whizzing through her head.

Maybe this was, instead, the luckiest moment of her life. It could be the chance she’d been waiting for...the one she’d feared she’d never have again.

The chance to discover if, after all these years, after time and distance and other relationships, she and Rafe Santori really were meant to be together after all.

She’d have to protect her heart from making the same old mistakes. She couldn’t let her guard down right away. For all she knew, he had moved on, had totally forgotten about her. Maybe he’d even changed and was no longer the tender, noble man she’d once loved. War could certainly alter people. So it wouldn’t do to let him get too close, too quickly. She had to keep up some walls, had to be cautious and go slowly. Mostly she had to avoid falling hard and fast and irrevocably in love with the man again.

Until she figured out whether she could trust her feelings for him, her heart was under lock and key. And the future remained as uncertain and elusive as it had since the day they’d said goodbye all those years ago when he’d gone off to war.

But for the first time since that New Year’s Eve three years ago, she began to feel something that resembled hope. Hope for a future she’d been absolutely certain was forever lost to her.

“Okay, Rafe,” she finally said. “I’m in.”

* * *

RAFE WASN’T SURE what he had been thinking to offer Ellie a ride to Chicago. He’d never been a masochist, never enjoyed testing himself with pain the way some of his fellow soldiers did. So why on earth would he inflict emotional torture on himself for a good eighteen hours? Because sitting in this small car—they called it a subcompact, but considering the way it skidded and slid all over the damned highway, it should have been called a sleigh—with her for eight hundred miles was sure to be torturous.

You can’t abandon her in an airport so far from home. Not on Christmas.

Maybe not. But did he really have to suggest she ride with him? The last time he’d seen her, Ellie had been engaged and happy, planning her September wedding with her nice-guy fiancé. Rafe had spent the past three years picturing her at that wedding, dressed in white lace, smiling and joyous. He’d tormented himself with mental images of her and her perfect, nice husband. Had mentally seen her painting their house in the burbs, adding a nursery when she became round and pregnant.

He had kicked himself whenever he let his imagination go down that road. But in the darkest nights, when he was bone tired and missing life in the States so bad he swore he’d go crazy if he had to inhale another mouthful of sand, she was all he thought about.