The Sergeant's Christmas Mission. Joanna Sims

really appreciate you trying to fix this for me,” she said. “My sons make a ton of laundry.”

      “Boys tend to do that.” Shane pulled the dryer from the wall.

      “Yes, they do.”

      Before he opened the back of the dryer, Shane pulled the discharge line—the large silver tube hooking the dryer to the vent—out of the wall. “Well, here’s some of the problem.”

      “Oh, my gosh.” Rebecca peeked over his shoulder. “Is that all lint in there?”

      “It’s packed.” Shane began to pull the tightly packed lint out of the line.

      “You know, I had a brand-new front-loading washer and dryer, but I sold them because there was a washer and dryer listed in the will. I had no idea that they were the same washer and dryer that Aunt Ginny had when I was a kid.”

      “Your aunt liked to hang on to things, that’s for sure.” The memory of Ginny brought a brief smile to his face.

      Shane sneezed several times, and once the discharge line was unclogged, he pulled some tissues out of his pants pocket and blew his nose. He was still sneezing from Top and his eyes were driving him nuts because they were so itchy.

      “Is that from the lint or the kitten?”

      He sneezed again. “I’ve never been allergic to lint.”

      “Shane.”

      “Yeah?”

      “Have you seen your eyes?”

      “No.” He blew his nose again. “But they itch like crazy.”

      “They are swollen. And red.”

      “That explains it, then.” Shane pushed the dryer sideways so he could remove the back.

      “I’m going to get you some over-the-counter allergy medicine. I always have some on hand because of Carson.”

      “No need to bother.” He knelt down by the dryer. Rebecca heard him, but ignored him. She disappeared into the house while he unscrewed the back of the dryer.

      Once the back was off, Shane was sure he’d found a second cause of the problem. He had cleaned a large ball of lint out of the discharge line connection that was located inside of the dryer when Rebecca returned.

      “That’s disgusting,” she exclaimed. “How has this dryer not caught on fire?”

      “Luck.”

      “Here—take these. Generic Benadryl.”

      Shane decided just to go along with Rebecca; she had that motherly look on her face and he knew better than to fight those instincts.

      “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome. Do you think the problem’s fixed?”

      “I’m thinking it is,” he said while he unscrewed a second cover that connected to the lint. “But I want to check this first.”

      By the time Shane was finished, there was a large pile of lint, decades in the making, on the ground. He put the dryer back together, used a pair of her son’s jeans as a test garment and turned it on. Rebecca stood next to him, her fingers threaded together as if she was praying for a miracle. Standing next to this woman made him feel strong for some inexplicable reason; she made him feel capable. How could a stranger make him feel like the Shane he was before his first tour to Iraq?

      Shane took a step away from his new landlady, not wanting to feel anything, much less the loss of the man he could no longer be.

      Rebecca didn’t notice that he had moved away from her; instead, she was focused on the dryer. She opened the door and let out a happy noise, which signaled to Shane that he had successfully fixed the problem.

      Rebecca turned to him with a broad smile on her face and her pretty eyes shining. She looked up at him as if he had done something amazing. He supposed for a woman with two boys and a basket full of dirty laundry, perhaps he had.

      “Thank you, Shane.”

      He liked the way her two front teeth crossed just a little, drawing his attention to her full rosy lips.

      He nodded and began to gather up his tools. When he stood upright, she was looking at him as if she had something to say. So, instead of turning to leave the porch, he waited.

      “What you did for me today—helping with the kitten and now this—it means a lot to me.”

      “I always helped your aunt. I don’t see any reason why I can’t help you if you decide not to give me the boot.”

      “I think we could all share the space,” she said, thoughtfully.

      There was something she was hesitating to say to him—he could see it on her easy-to-read face.

      “But there is something that is a deal breaker for me.”

      He waited for her to continue; his fingers tightened on the handle of the screwdriver, but other than that, he didn’t show her how tense she was making him.

      “I know that...” Another pause and a throat clear. “I know that cannabis is legal in some states now. But it’s not legal in Montana.”

      Rebecca looked him straight in the eye then. “I won’t have my boys exposed to anything illegal. Do we understand each other?”

      His fingers loosened their death grip on the screwdriver’s handle. “We do.”

      His response got a nod from her and she seemed satisfied with the exchange. He said goodbye then and walked down the porch stairs. Rebecca finished loading the dryer and the washing machine and then headed to the screen door, where she stopped and called after him. Shane stopped walking.

      “Hey. I meant to ask you. Why did you name that kitten Top?”

      Something twisted in his gut and he had to swallow several times before he said, “Because that’s what I was. First Sargeant. My men all called me Top.”

      * * *

      After she said goodbye to Shane, the rest of the afternoon flew by for Rebecca. She only had time to get a few more boxes opened and organized by room before it was time to pick Carson and Caleb up from school. Caleb had already started to make friends; he had always been more outgoing than his older brother. Carson, on the other hand, seemed to have a dark cloud over his head all the way home.

      “I want to start riding the bus.” Carson said his first words as they were pulling into the driveway.

      “You do?”

      “Yeah.”

      Rebecca worked to keep the sadness she was feeling from showing up on her face as she parked her car by the house and turned off the engine. Driving back and forth to school had always been their time together. She arranged her work schedule around the twice-a-day event.

      “What about you, Caleb?”

      Caleb grinned at her, making her smile at the space where his front tooth used to be. “I go where Carson goes.”

      She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly. “All right. I’ll go to the office tomorrow and see what I have to do to get you on the bus.”

      They did their homework at the kitchen table, one of the only uncluttered areas, while she fixed dinner. The TV wouldn’t be hooked up with cable until the next week, so the boys played video games after they all worked to clear the table, clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. She made sure both boys took their showers, brushed their teeth and then got into bed for the night before she poured herself a glass of her favorite wine. On the second glass, she remembered the laundry and went outside, onto the back porch. There, she was captivated by the sound of an acoustic guitar playing nearby. Quietly, she went down the steps and leaned forward to look around the corner. Sitting in front of the garage apartment, a single yellow light overhead, Shane was playing his