Holiday Op

Chapter Four

Six weeks later Stateside

Sergeant Lou Randle entered the hospital room. As she'd done every day for the past six weeks, Allie sat at Mitch's side. She shot a weak smile across her shoulder at Lou and stood. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Any progress?” Lou asked.

"No, but I'm sure he'll come around any day now."

She leaned over the man in the bed, kissed his brow and then whispered in his ear. Turning on her heels, she gathered her things and headed for the door.

"You do that every time.” Lou smiled. “What do you tell him?"

"My Christmas wish,” Allie said. “I won't be here tomorrow, Sergeant Randle. It's Christmas Eve and I promised to share the time with my father. But, I will return to spend Christmas Day with Mitch."

Lou touched her elbow. “He's a lucky man to have a woman like you."

Allie looked over her shoulder at her wounded soldier. Medical tests showed no definitive answer to why he lay unconscious. The doctor claimed his body had taken such an extreme beating it seemed his system had gone into some sort of dormant state to recuperate. Broken ribs and a bruised lung would heal in time. Would the rest of him? She swallowed hard, hoping for the best. Sadness filled her soul. She'd met the perfect man and didn't know what she'd do if she lost him before they got the chance to explore the feelings ignited between them.

"It doesn't look like he's got anyone else. No one has come to visit him except us and the other Marines in your group. Doesn't he have family?"

"No, ma'am.” Lou shook his head. “Mitch grew up an orphan. He entered the Marines right out of high school. We're the closest to family he's ever known."

Tears threatened to fall, but she blinked them back. Mitch was alone. She glanced at him and smiled. Not anymore. No matter what happened, he had her.

"Watch over him for me.” Allie stared at Lou. “Merry Christmas, Sergeant Randle."

"Merry Christmas, Miss Summers.” Lou paused, then added as she stepped into the hallway, “If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm at your beck and call, anytime of night or day."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

Lou stood and watched her walk down the hall, then turned back toward the bed. As soon as he reached the bedside, a gravelly voice grabbed and held his attention in awe.

"You hitting on my woman, Sergeant?"

"OhmyGod, you're awake. Let me catch her."

Mitch caught his wrist before Lou could move. It took great effort, but Mitch managed to turn his head, open his eyes, and continue.

"I've got a better idea.” He took a deep breath, licked his lips then added, “But I'm going to need your help to pull it off."

Allie took the last tray of cookies from the oven and placed them on the cooling racks. It was the third batch of gingerbread men she'd made that resembled Marines. Oh God, who did she have on her mind? This was the first time in five weeks she hadn't sat at his side, talking to him, reading a book or newspaper to him, praying he'd wake. With a shake of her head, she truly didn't need an answer. Only one Marine-Sergeant Mitch Sinclair-had won her heart and soul.

The ring of the doorbell snapped her from another daydream of the hunky Marine. She issued a silent prayer for his safekeeping and wellbeing as she exited the kitchen and crossed the living room. Her father descended the stairs as she reached the front door.

Swinging it open, her heart skipped a beat and her jaw dropped. Dress blues never looked so good. From his head to his toes, he stood regal and strong. One would never have known he'd lain in a dormant state for the past weeks. Sword at his side, gold buttons shined, and his white hat positioned jauntily, shadowing what she knew were a set of gorgeous brilliant blue eyes. She couldn't speak for fear she may be suffering from some sort of delusion and he'd disappear the moment she opened her mouth.

His words came loud and clear on his thick southern drawl touching her heart and sealing her fate.

"I understand someone in this house asked for a special gift for Christmas."

Allie's voice shook. “How… how are you here? When I left you last night, you were unconscious."

She wanted to touch him, but kept her hands knotted in her apron. Yet, if she reached for him, would he dissipate and this turn out to be a mere dream? She wasn't sure she could handle such a grand disappointment. The last few weeks were tough, between trekking to the hospital daily, to taking care of her father, to dealing with loving an unconscious man and not knowing if she would ever see the wondrous shade of blue again. Everything weighed heavy on her spirit and soul, but a sliver of hope had kept her going. If this was a dream, God, she prayed she'd never wake.

"I had a little help getting here.” Following the direction of his nod, she noticed Sergeant Randle leaning against a car in the driveway. Odd, she hadn't seen him earlier, but her eyesight had been narrowed by a vision from heaven that filled her doorway.

"Oh, my God, it is you.” Allie fell into his arms, crying and laughing at the same time. Her prayers were answered. “This isn't a dream."

Mitch cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. “I'm here because of you. Everyday, a sweet voice whispered to my tired soul. It was you who guided me back and gave me the strength to heal."

He ran his thumb across her trembling lip and brushed the hair from her eyes.

"Allie, it was your Christmas wish that touched my heart and led me to you. I heard your voice every day. You were there for me when I needed someone in my life the most. I couldn't let you down."

Allie swallowed hard against the lump in her throat and stated on a shaky whisper, “All I want for Christmas is a Marine."

Mitch leaned in close, gathered her in his arms, and smiled. Hovering within millimeters of her lips, he stated right before he captured her mouth in a passionate embrace…

"Wish granted."