A Soldier's Prayer. Jenna Mindel

into a shiny dress. Taking in the sequins on her T-shirt, he figured she liked the sparkle. She didn’t need all the glam. She shone from within and always had.

      He cleared his throat. “My nephews. The older one is Ethan, and this little dude is Owen.”

      “Hello.” Monica smiled.

      Cash’s pulse kicked into high gear. That smile of hers always had the power to knock him off-kilter.

      She scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would be here. Should I leave?”

      “No.” Hadn’t he just prayed for help? It was as if God had answered that prayer by bringing her here. Bringing help until the boys’ mom and grandmother arrived. No way could she go. “Stay. Please. We’re going to grill out for dinner.”

      Monica’s bright blue eyes narrowed. She looked torn, as if staying or leaving played a tug-of-war inside her head.

      Cash wouldn’t blame her if she left, but he didn’t want her to. Not only could he use her help, but it’d been a long time since he’d seen her. He wouldn’t mind catching up a little.

      She crouched down so she was eye level with Ethan. “What do you think? Do you mind if I stay for dinner?”

      Ethan still gazed at her as if he expected a crown to materialize on her head. “I don’t mind.”

      Monica stood and faced Owen, smiling once again. Her teeth were perfect and bleached white. She’d been one of two Zelinsky kids who had needed braces. “And what about you? Owen, is it?”

      Owen hid his head against Cash’s neck, but he nodded.

      “He’s sort of quiet these days.” Cash gave her a look that said he’d tell her later.

      “Owen won’t talk. He hasn’t since our dad died,” Ethan answered.

      “Oh. I’m so sorry.” Monica looked sad. Really sad.

      Her bright eyes had always been expressive. Her smart mouth, too. He remembered that there wasn’t much Monica wouldn’t say, and that’s what had endeared her to him when they’d first met. He’d been fourteen and she’d been ten.

      Cash set the boy down and spread his arms. “There you have it, the Miller dilemma. Why don’t you guys go wash up and then we can get the burgers made for the grill. Ethan, see that Owen changes his shirt.”

      The boys ran for their room, feet stomping and door banging.

      Monica smirked as she poked a spot of melted ice cream in the middle of Cash’s T-shirt. “I see you had ice cream before dinner.”

      He tensed under her touch. “That’s what uncles are for.”

      She cupped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry about Cole.”

      “Thanks.” Tempted to draw her to him, he stepped back instead.

      Other than a shared embrace when she’d turned eighteen, Cash hadn’t hugged Monica since his father died when he was sixteen. Not only was she four years younger than him, making such things a little awkward, but any guy worth his salt didn’t mess with his best friend’s little sister. Not ever. Growing up, she had been resolutely off-limits.

      Fast forward several years and his change of career from an enlisted marine to the Marine Corps Forces Special Ops Command made serious relationships with women off-limits, as well. At least for him. Becoming a Marine Raider had been his choice, just like steering clear of Monica ever since that one kiss they’d shared on her eighteenth birthday...

      “Cash?”

      “Huh?” Had she been talking?

      “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to Cole’s funeral.” Monica tipped her head and all that gloriously long and stick-straight blond hair slid over her shoulder.

      She had always been taboo, and it sure felt like she should be now. He experienced that familiar nip of awareness and like always, he brushed it aside, refusing to let the attraction grow.

      “It’s not like we live close anymore. A five-hour drive round-trip makes for a long day.” Although Cash had been glad to see her parents there at the church. Matthew had made it because he was catching his freighter at port in Marquette the following day.

      Ethan and Owen came tearing into the kitchen.

      “Give it back!” Ethan chased his little brother who scooted out of reach waving a fidget spinner.

      “Guys, tone it down.” Cash ran his hand over his whiskered chin. He’d shave when he had to, when he returned to duty on Labor Day, in a little over a week.

      The boys tore into the living room.

      Owen threw the fidget spinner at Ethan. Then the boys launched themselves onto the couch and clicked on the TV. The fight was over as quickly as it began.

      He glanced at Monica and caught the turmoil in her face. “You okay?”

      She nodded. “What can I do?”

      He narrowed his gaze. “Not much you can do. These things happen.”

      Again, the teasing smirk. “I meant dinner. How can I help?”

      He blew out his breath, glad for a reason to click off the trip down his pain-filled memory lane. “You can help by making patties while I get the grill going.”

      “Deal.” Monica looked into the living room. “Ethan and Owen, do you want to help?”

      Ethan groaned, but Owen slipped off the couch and tiptoed toward Monica.

      Cash exited the cabin onto the deck. The sun hung low in the sky, but it wouldn’t set for another couple hours. He turned on the gas valve, then lit the grill and shut the lid.

      Leaning against the railing of the deck, Cash wondered why Monica would come up here by herself. He’d have to ask her later, if she stayed beyond dinner. Part of him hoped she would. The other part worried that being around Monica for very long was asking for trouble.

      * * *

      “Thank you, Owen.” Monica’s heart melted when the boy smiled, then walked the plate of hamburgers outside for Cash to place on the hot grill.

      He might not speak, but the little boy was a charmer, with rich red hair and thick eyelashes that framed dark gray eyes. Eyes a lot like his uncle’s.

      Through the sliding glass door to the deck out back, Monica watched Cash cup his nephew’s cheek as he took the plate from him. Despite his rough-and-tumble ways, Cash was a gentle guy. Even though he’d been Matthew’s friend, he’d always taken time to talk with her. He’d made her feel awkward, sure, especially the year she grew to be taller than him by a couple inches or so, but he never made her feel unwanted. Never the annoying tagalong that she’d often been.

      The last time she’d seen Cash Miller was two and a half years ago, at her brother Matthew’s wedding. There hadn’t been any dancing and Cash had pretty much ignored her after a brief greeting. He’d hung out with her brothers and then left before she’d had a chance to really talk to him. She wouldn’t mind spending a little time with him now, just to make sure he was okay, and hear what he’d been up to.

      “How do you know Uncle Cash?” Ethan climbed onto the stool on the other side of the island.

      “Your uncle is friends with my brother. I’ve known him since I was a little older than you.”

      Ethan gave her a haughty glare from golden-colored eyes. He, too, had a mop of red hair, although lighter than his little brother’s. “I’m eight.”

      “I was ten when I first met your uncle Cash.” Monica grabbed the bag of spring mix she’d purchased, along with some veggies.

      She would never forget the day Matthew had brought Cash home with him from school for the first time. Cash had taken one long