Free Homefront Holiday by Jillian Hart Page A

never felt that way about her, not truly. Or at least it was easier to believe he hadn’t. Otherwise how could she hold herself together as she listened to the strike of his boots on the tile floor? How could she keep the tears at bay as he paused near the doorway? She could picture him, turning toward her one last time, the apology on his handsome face and the shadows in his eyes.
    She would never know what happened to him over there. She would never know a lot of things, and she hated that she still loved him as he broke the silence between them.
    “Goodbye, Sarah. Take care of yourself.”
    “You, too, Mike.” The words came out rough, and she wished she was strong enough to keep the tears out of her voice. She wasn’t.
    She listened to the knell of his gait heading down the hall, growing distant until she could no longer hear him. Goodbye hovered on her lips, unspoken. She could not say the word. It made it easier to set her chin, gather her dignity and head back to her desk, even as her vision blurred.
     
    “Sarah, are you all right?”
    She looked up, realizing she was walking out of the school building on autopilot, and walking by one of her best friends. Sally Winthrop, first-grade teacher and fellow church member, looked concerned as she stood holding the door open to the crisp, breezy outdoors.
    “I’ll be all right.” That was the truth. And as long as she didn’t think about Mike or say his name, she could stay numb enough to hold it together. Why had she thought that he would love her enough now? He loved the army. While she no longer blamed him for it, it still hurt. Badly.
    “Did I see Mike walking down the hall during lunch?”
    Sarah did her best not to wince at the sound of Mike’s name. She could handle this. She could. “Y-yes. He dropped by to talk about Ali.”
    “That has to be a sticky situation, with the two of them being close.” All kind sympathy, that was Sally. “How are you holding up?”
    “I’m holding.” That was the truth, too. She had to handle this. She couldn’t fall apart. Ali needed her to handle this the right way. So did Mike. She had seen the anguish on his face when she had told him she still loved him. Anguish, when she had suspected he might still love her, too. How could she have been so wrong? “It’s tough seeing Mike again, but Ali is worth it.”
    “Have you heard anything more about your adoption petition?”
    “No, but at this stage no news is good news, or so I’m told.” Sarah breezed outside and into the cold, struggling to put a smile on her face. There was no need to worry Sally. “How did things with your problem child turn out?”
    “He was a perfect angel today.” Sally shook her head, scattering her tidy blond curls, as she fell in beside Sarah on the sidewalk. A serious wind battered the bare branches overhead. “Kids. You’ve got to love ’em. They sure keep us on our toes.”
    “They do.” She pulled her keys from her pocket, wistfully admiring the life her friend had. Sally had three kids—two girls and a boy—and an adoring, devoted husband. Sarah and Sally were the same age. Sarah knew it was wrong to compare herself with her friend, God had a different plan in mind for everyone. She simply wanted a family life so badly, one full of love and laughter and happiness.
    “I would love to chat with you, but I’ve got my kids waiting for me to pick them up.”
    “I have Ali waiting at the church day care, too.” Since he wasn’t in her afternoon session.
    “I’ll see you bright and early.” Sally smiled as she stopped next to her minivan. “Good luck with the Mike situation.”
    “I need it. Thanks.” More than Sally knew. Sarah gave her remote a push. Her locks popped and she pulled open her door. She had a dozen things needing her attention—the press announcements to drop by the newspaper office for the Children of the Day fund-raiser, a quick stop to pick up a few of Ali’s Christmas gifts that had come in on