Homefront Holiday. Jillian Hart

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      Special thanks and acknowledgment to Jillian Hart for her contribution to the Homecoming Heroes miniseries.

      Be kindly affectioned one to another with

       brotherly love; in honor preferring one another.

      —Romans 12:10

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Epilogue

      QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

      Chapter One

      It was mid-December and the Coffee Break was busy, but not as busy as the street outside. Sarah Alpert drew her gaze away from the view through the wide glass window, where shoppers hurried about their seasonal tasks, to the little boy seated across the narrow table from her.

      Ali. Her heart warmed simply from looking at him. She loved children, which was not surprising given she was a kindergarten teacher. But this one was special. She handed a paper napkin across the red plastic tabletop to her five-year-old foster son and student. “Hey, you have some hot chocolate on your chin.”

      He grinned, the charmer he was, showing his heart-tugging grin and the dimple in his left cheek. He scrubbed at the wrong spot on his chin.

      Adoration filled her like Texas sunshine. She leaned forward, reaching over to rub at the right spot. Two swipes and the kid was clean. This sweetheart had proven to be the balm her wounded heart had needed. “Are you ready?”

      Ali hopped down from his chair. “Yep. Can I call Dr. Mike yet?”

      Mike. She tried not to flinch at that name.

      “He hasn’t called,” Ali added. “He’s comin’ home, you know.”

      “Yes, I heard something like that.”

      “’Cuz I tol’ you.”

      “About a thousand times.” She managed to keep a smile on her face as she stood. “All right, sunshine, we have errands to do.”

      “Me and Dr. Mike are gonna get pizza and do lotsa stuff. We’re buddies.”

      Sarah focused on her little boy and pretended he hadn’t brought up Mike. Distraction, that was the key. “Which do you want to do first? Pick out our Christmas lights or mail our Christmas cards?”

      “The lights!”

      Her heart melted a little more. Already he was her family. She couldn’t wait for the adoption to go through. Then he would be hers. Really and truly hers. “Coat on and zipped up. There’s a cold wind out there.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Ali hopped down and his bright red sneakers—his favorite color—hit the floor with a squeak and a thump. His salute was the one Dr. Mike Montgomery had taught him. The two had met when Ali came in as a roadside-bomb casualty to Mike’s MASH unit. The child had been injured, but his mother had been killed. Ali had formed a bond with Mike, and Mike had helped arrange to send Ali to the States for lifesaving surgery.

      Her heart twisted with an old pain. She and Mike had ended their engagement a year ago, but losing him would always hurt. She tucked that hurt away the best she could and put what she hoped was a big smile on her face.

      “I get that.” The little gentleman he was, Ali grabbed their garbage.

      “Thank you.” Sarah unhooked her jacket from the back of her chair and slipped into it, unable to take her eyes off the little boy as he trotted over to the receptacle near the door. He had to go up on tiptoe to dump it.

      She hefted the shopping bags from beneath their table, slid her purse strap higher on her shoulder and held out her hand to her foster son. She was thankful every day that he was thriving, after all his losses. His grandfather Marlon, who had lived next door, had passed away last month. And while Ali had little time СКАЧАТЬ