A Soldier's Prayer. Jenna MindelЧитать онлайн книгу.
had the big nose.
“There’s frozen french fries in the freezer.” Cash entered the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed a can of pop, snapping open the tab top with a fizzy click.
“Yeah, so?” Monica tipped her head.
“So, I thought you could make them.” Cash winked at Ethan.
The boy looked at her, then back at Cash with a grin.
“Why can’t you make them?” Monica wasn’t giving in that easily. Especially in front of an eight-year-old watching them with too-wise eyes.
“I’m manning the grill.”
“You’re in here now, with plenty of time to take care of the fries while I set the table.”
“The boys and I eat in the living room.” Cash completely evaded her comment.
“Yeah,” Ethan added, with challenge in his voice.
Monica glanced at Owen, now lying on the couch watching a cartoon on TV, then back at Cash. “What would their mother say?”
Cash rolled his eyes.
Monica had her answer. She wasn’t the boss of any of them, so she merely took plates and set them on the island, while Cash grabbed the bag of frozen fries.
Ha! She’d won that round.
The space between the stove and island was limited. Her breath caught when she turned to fetch the silverware and collided with Cash leaning to throw the empty fries bag in the trash can under the sink.
Cash straightened and gestured for her to go first. “After you.”
Despite her hot cheeks and Ethan’s giggle, she managed a sarcastic-sounding retort, “Why don’t you get out of the kitchen?”
He winked at her. “Exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”
Monica tried to ignore him. She tried even harder to ignore the pesky increase in her heart rate, but that was a lost cause and had been ever since she was twelve.
She opened the fridge to gather condiments, then whipped around to set the bottles on the island. Cash was in her space once again. She dodged left, but he lurched the same way. Bobbing the opposite direction, they did an awkward dance that ended with her dropping the ketchup bottle.
Cash bent to retrieve it at the same time she did and they bumped heads.
“Oww!”
He laughed and gently touched her forehead with his fingers, rubbing where they’d hit. “I’m so sorry.”
She looked into his dark gray eyes filled with mirth and the truth slipped out. “You’re dangerous, Cash Miller. That’s what you are.”
His gaze darkened as it swept her face.
And there it was—that sting of awareness she knew well. Monica could barely breathe as she recalled the one kiss they’d ever shared. It had been her eighteenth birthday party and her parents had hosted a huge cookout. She’d walked Cash to his car because he’d had to head back to base. There, he’d given her the most beautiful crystal stork. To thank him for such a lovely gift, she had hugged him, and that embrace had soon turned into the most wonder-filled kiss she’d ever received.
Did he remember it, too?
She shut down that train of thought quickly. She couldn’t go there. Not now, not ever. She had a nasty medical battle ahead. One that had already chased away one guy she thought she could rely on. There was no way she’d let another man, especially this man, mess her up when she was plenty worried about her future as it was. If she even had a future long enough to enjoy.
Tamping down the panic that crept upon her ever since she received the bad news of her biopsy, Monica set the bottles on the island. Ketchup, mustard, squeezable mayonnaise, ranch and Thousand Island salad dressing all toppled over.
Ethan reached out to help her right them.
That’s when Monica saw the smoke. Glad for the diversion, she hid behind her trusty sarcasm. “Uh, Cash? You better check those burgers.”
He dashed for the deck and opened the barbecue lid. Flames shot up as he flipped the burgers over.
Monica looked at Ethan. “I hope you like yours well done.”
Ethan shrugged.
Monica got busy grabbing cups and the gallon of milk. Anything to keep her focus away from Cash. No way could she stay here the whole weekend. She’d never functioned well around him and it looked as if that still held true.
She’d stay tonight and tomorrow morning tops, then she’d be on her way. Maybe she’d head for a motel in Marquette. It was a pretty college town on the shore of Lake Superior. But Monica didn’t need pretty. She needed to think things through, do more research and jot down a million more questions. She needed to find some kind of inner strength to deal with what lay ahead. Other than her family’s support, she faced this disease alone. Could she beat it? Monica wasn’t sure.
All she knew was cancer waged a war inside her and she was scared. Really scared.
Monica felt a soft touch and looked down into the pleading eyes of Owen. “What is it?”
He pulled on her hand.
“He wants to show you something,” Ethan offered.
No kidding. Monica bit her tongue and played along, following the little boy.
Owen led her to the TV, which had gone blank even though the satellite box dials glowed blue, showing it was still active. The TV was old and the picture sometimes grayed out, needing to be reset. It usually came back on after someone turned the whole thing off for bit, but maybe this time it had burned out for good.
“You know what, how about we turn off the TV for now? I imagine you didn’t come here with your uncle Cash to watch TV.” Monica looked down at the boy. Why were they here? She’d never known Cash to hang around little kids before.
“The burgers are done and not too burned.” Cash entered with the plate.
“The TV’s out, so we might as well eat at the table,” Monica said. “Owen, would you like to help me?”
The boy nodded.
“He sure likes you.” Cash leaned close and whispered teasingly, “He probably thinks you really are a princess. Storks can look regal, you know.”
Monica laughed when she considered her just-over-six-foot frame. “There’s more giant than princess about me.”
“A more beautiful giant there never was, right, Owen?” Cash grinned when his nephew agreed with wide eyes.
Monica soaked in the compliment, but shook her head at Cash’s nonsense. He’d have the poor boy wondering if she really were a giant. If she remembered correctly, giants were to be feared in storybooks. In a few months, she’d look pretty scary from chemo.
With a sigh, she handed Owen a glass of milk, with directions to place it on the table. She did the same with Ethan, who complied, but that’s as far as his help went. He slid into a chair at the table as if he expected to be waited on.
Monica ignored that idea and helped Owen fix his plate as Cash pulled the cookie sheet of french fries from the oven. They were burned a little on the ends, but to her they looked perfect.
Cash started to make a plate for Ethan, but Monica stalled him. “Ethan, if you’d like dinner you’re going to have to come get it.”
Cash stared at her as if she’d called the kid a bad name.
“Really, there’s no need to wait on