Mail Order Soulmate

by Jean Oram

  As they walked toward the locked-out hiker, Logan handed Zach the bag of tools he’d need. Old habits died hard. Logan shouldn’t need these things in their current career, but Zach understood how hard it was to resist adding all the old tools of the trade into one’s personal kit. And if he started riding Logan for his stash, he might have to admit that he had himself similarly equipped.

  “My hands are freezing from dealing with those ropes,” Zach said. “Distract him so I can pop it fast.”

  While Logan chatted with the stranded guy, Zach pretended to struggle even after he heard the lock pop a split second after he set to work. The man couldn’t see him from where he stood and Zach slipped his mitts back on, warming his fingers. He waited another minute or two, glad the guy couldn’t tell he wasn’t doing anything.

  “You’re in,” Zach finally announced, his skills making him feel criminal instead of a hero.

  “That was fast.” The man shook his hand, then Logan’s, and thanked them both before diving into the car, finding his keys and starting the engine so he could warm up.

  When Zach returned to his Land Rover Catherine was watching him through the passenger side window with an expression he wasn’t sure he wanted to read.

  Yeah. He was fast. One of the fastest back in training, and one of the fastest out in the field. A tricky door? Give it to Zach. He sent Logan a look as if to say “Thanks a lot, pal.”

  Logan gave him two thumbs-up with a grin, ignoring Zach’s dark look as he opened the door for his wife to climb out of the backseat, where she’d been keeping warm while chatting with Catherine and Xavier. Hand in hand, Logan and Ginger headed to their own car for the ride back to town.

  Zach took the driver’s seat, waiting for Catherine to say what was surely on her mind.

  “You can break into vehicles?” she said, her voice flat, the question a statement.

  “It’s my job.”

  “What exactly is your job?” She’d turned in her seat to face him, her spine twisted.

  “Security.” He glanced at her, hoping to convey that he was someone she didn’t need to fear or doubt. “I keep people safe. I have to know my way around locks and security systems.”

  “But how do you know?” Catherine insisted. “Where did you learn?”

  “I used to install vehicle security alarms.”

  Mostly true, although he’d mostly just dismantled them. But he’d once been trained to install them, as his instructor had explained, “If you know how to make them work, you’ll know how to make them not work.”

  They drove in silence for a few minutes and he made a wish that the doubt in her voice would somehow become as easy to disarm as it seemed to have been to install.

  “I heard there was another break-in last night,” she finally said, as they drove over the bridge into town.

  “Three.”

  “I wish you’d been home.”

  Zach weighed whether she was worried about being alone during an attempted break-in or whether it was more doubt seeping in. He could practically hear her unasked questions. Where were you during the robberies last night? Why did you really learn to break into cars? Can you break into homes, too?

  “We have a good security system,” he said. “You’re safe even when I’m not home.”

  “What if someone knew their way around the security system or broke in anyway?”

  “Scott’s working on catching whoever it is.” Zach focused on the snowy streets more than he needed to, trying to prevent giving himself away or confessing to his full range of skills. He was used to keeping them secret, and simply turning and telling her everything felt like a breach. He was going to have to figure out how to explain.

  “You’ve known him a long time?”

  “I’ve known Officer Malone as long as I’ve lived here.”

  “I heard he’s understaffed.”

  “He is.”

  “So what do I do if someone tries to force their way in and you’re not home?”

  Relief allowed Zach’s shoulders to relax. She was merely concerned about safety. That was what all this was about.

  “I live there,” he said with a laugh. “No thief would dare come and mess with my home.”

  When it came to targeting houses, his would be one of the last ones on the list. He was doing everything right, from a highly visible front door to a high-tech security system. His home was not an easy mark. Sure, someone could try and break into it. But a thief worth his salt wouldn’t choose his as one to start with.

  “Back home, we used to leave our house unlocked.”

  He felt like she was offering something. A story. A snippet from her past. Something he was supposed to bite on.

  “Safe town?”

  “The break-ins have been good for your business,” she said, changing the subject. It was true. There had been an uptick in security system installations.

  But the way she was winding herself tight, that stress from weeks ago cranking up within her, told him her home’s unlocked doors weren’t because of the town’s safety. It was due to something else. And from experience, he figured the safest house in a crime-ridden neighborhood was the crime boss’s house.

  So was she from a crime family?

  Did that explain her preference for morality? His instinct to not reveal his former intelligence training for fear of her pulling away?

  Or was he grasping at straws so he wouldn’t have to consider that maybe she was retreating because she didn’t actually feel they were as good of a fit as he believed?

  12

  Zach studied the tree, his arms wrapped around the thick branches as Catherine tightened the stand’s screws into its trunk. His ability to swiftly enter a locked car had altered the way she viewed him, right before his eyes. Which he understood. How many people knew how to bust into a car, for righteous reasons? She had been burned back at the nightclub, and it made sense that she might be suspicious about things that didn’t add up.

  He should have called Gus to come out in the cold to deal with the car, despite his gout. But Zach was in it now, and she needed for him to let her in on some truths.

  Summoning his courage, he said, “Catherine?”

  “Hmm?” She was still under the tree, adjusting the screws.

  “Sometimes missions called for me to enter locked vehicles.”

  She was quiet.

  “I’m not used to talking about it,” he said awkwardly.

  “Okay,” she said simply, seeming to accept his answer.

  “Okay?”

  Catherine crawled out from under the tree and knelt with her hands on her knees. She met his eye and he tentatively released his grip on the tree.

  “Yeah. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be able to pop a lock that fast.” She looked down at her hands and picked at a fingernail. “I got caught up in my thoughts.”

  “It’s not a common skill,” he said supportively. “At least among those who aren’t criminals.”

  She rewarded him with a wan smile and he felt his shoulders relax.

  “We’re good?” he asked, offering her a hand up.

  “Of course we are, Zach.”

  This whole letting-people-in thing might be all right, after all.

  She took a look at the tree. “I think that should do it. The screws were supereasy to turn, though. Think it’ll hold?”

  Xavier was safely out of the way, sitting in his swing and idly sucking on his fist. Zach stepped back to stand beside him, just as Catherine did, too, and the tree pitched toward the plate glass window behind it. Catherine let out a little squeak as they both lurched to catch the evergreen, getting their palms stabbed with needles.

  “Ouch!” Catherine said.

  “You all right?”

  “We should have bought a fake tree.”

  He grinned. “Where’s the fun in that?” He bent down to retighten the screws, careful not to spill the water in the bottom of the stand.

  “It smells good in here, though,” Cather
ine said, as Zach stood up. He agreed. There was nothing like a real tree when it came to infusing the feeling of Christmas into a home—and that’s what it was with Catherine and Xavier in it.

  She started giggling.

  The tree was crooked. And there was a bare spot where a branch was missing.

  “I’ll turn it around.” Zach carefully adjusted the tree so it was more upright and the empty space was facing the wall.

  He stood back, arms crossed, as he admired his work.

  “Where are your decorations?” Catherine asked.

  Zach’s arms dropped to his sides. He hadn’t planned that far ahead.

  Catherine laughed again and pulled at his arm. “Come on, my big spender, I saw some for sale downtown. If we hurry, we can get the basics so it doesn’t look like you have a tree growing out of your floor for no reason.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Catherine was smiling, happy, and it gave him hope. He reminded himself that for two people with a lot of walls, they’d made more progress than he’d expected them to. He bet that she likely felt the same way. After all, it was natural for them both to take a half step back every once in a while as they came up against their personal triggers, in the process of learning more about each other.

  “Let’s get a special ornament every Christmas,” he suggested. “One that signifies something that happened that year.”

  “That’s a nice idea,” she said with a dreamy smile. “So maybe an ornament with a baby or one of a bride and groom?” Her cheeks pinked and he loved that she was feeling shy about their new little family, and shy about showing him that what they were building was something that she liked and wanted. She was brave and strong, but she also cared what he thought and wanted, too.

  He pulled her loosely into his arms, giving her a light kiss.

  “Maybe we’ll need to get a few this year. Think there’s one that says Our Family’s First Christmas?”

  She gave him a sideways look. “Does that mean we have to get one of those formal family pictures where we all wear the same color?”

  “Most definitely.” He grinned at her and she returned the smile before throwing back her glossy curls, her throat exposed as she laughed in his arms.

  And in that moment he felt the connection again, and nothing in life had ever felt more wonderful.

  Catherine and Zach had found a few ordinary glass ornaments in the hardware store and were now wandering Blueberry Springs, on the lookout for unique ornaments to mark their year. Xavier was in his stroller, the sidewalks having been cleared enough they could push it without too much difficulty.

  Catherine wasn’t impressed with how she’d allowed herself to revert back to a fearful state earlier in the day, and was relieved she and Zach had already found their way back to their normal selves. It felt right. Bigger and better than the doubts she’d had earlier about his break-in skills. This was Zach. Her Zach. Not some criminal working in the underworld and using his business as a leverage point for crime. She needed to keep her head on straight and quit letting her past rule her future.

  “The florists might have something,” Zach suggested, pointing the way. “They might even be having a Black Friday sale on ornaments.”

  They browsed through the shop, finding some pretty ornaments in the gift section, but not quite what they were looking for. Nevertheless, they came out with a few for their collection, and were continuing on their quest when they bumped into Logan.

  “Did you get that last camera for Mandy’s?” Logan asked Zach, and before long the two men were deep into the logistics of the final touches they wanted to put on the brownie factory’s new security system. The talk was way over Catherine’s head and she wandered on, window-shopping and figuring that Zach would catch up when he was done talking to Logan.

  She came to a bridal shop with gorgeous fur-lined shawls and beautiful winter wedding gowns in the window. She spotted Ginger working inside and waved. The woman beckoned her in despite the Closed sign, and Catherine called over her shoulder to Zach, “Xavier and I will be in here.”

  The store’s warmth enveloped her, and she realized she was slowly getting used to the mountain weather, enjoying the winter conditions and the cold. It wasn’t as dark and dreary as London often was at this time of year, and she found she didn’t miss its dampness and chill. Here, when it wasn’t snowing, the skies tended to be bright, and there were days she needed sunglasses when she went out.

  “I thought you were taking the day off?” Catherine asked. While they’d been choosing trees earlier, Catherine had understood that Ginger’s store wasn’t taking part in Black Friday with a big blowout sale, and that she’d given all her employees the day off.

  “I am,” Ginger assured her. “Sort of. Olivia wanted to tweak a dress, so I figured I’d come in, too, and take care of a few things.” She pointed toward two women in an adjoining room. There was a small stage, with mirrors lining the walls in front of it. Windows that overlooked the street were covered with gorgeous floor-length curtains. A bride was standing on the stage, a curvy blonde in front of her pinning up the hem of her gown. The whole scene was like a dream.

  Ginger’s eyes were bright, her smile wide. “Logan and I live above the store, which enables me to have such bad work habits. I do love it though. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. So? Are you looking for a wedding dress? Is that why you’re full of smiles?” The woman’s eyes gleamed.

  Catherine shook her head, but knew she was smiling. And it felt good. She could see herself with Zach, staying here with him long-term. Raising Xavier together like a real couple. Even being in love. It was still hard to believe that this man she’d met online was quickly becoming someone she thought of as a soulmate. Something wonderful sent to her after years of darkness. She’d thought she’d had a life back in London, but now she could see how closed off she’d been, how little she’d truly let people in.

  “Zach and I are just looking for a bride-and-groom Christmas ornament for our tree,” she told Ginger. “I thought maybe you’d have one?”

  “I have a few things over by the register if you want to take a peek.” She began leading Catherine over to a small display toward the back of the showroom. The store was amazing. Racks of dresses and accessories filled the space without it feeling crowded, and she longed to wander the aisles, feeling the different fabrics, dreaming of the different weddings that would fit each dress’s style. The simple sheath on display to her left would call for a simple wedding, but elegant and sophisticated. The off-the-shoulder number beside it would work for something big and fun, with lots of kids running around and filling the dance floor.

  “By the way,” Ginger said, “Jill told me that if you drop your skillet and knives off she’ll have them back from the sharpener guy in a few days. She’ll get them back to you when they’re done.”

  She led Catherine to the main counter, where a small tree by the cash register was sparsely covered with ornaments.

  “I might have to check the back,” Ginger said, eyeing her little display. “We had a bit of a run on these the other day.”

  Behind Ginger, screens were lit up with photos of brides. There were a few faces she recognized from around town, and she realized these weren’t stock photos, but rather ones of real-life customers.

  “You like the display?” Ginger asked, craning her neck to look behind her. “I was just updating some of the photos before you came in.”

  “They’re beautiful.” A picture of a dark-skinned flower girl flipped past, making her heart swell. Then one of a family all dressed in formal wear, arms around each other, followed by one of a bride and groom grinning at each other with so much love Catherine had to look away.

  She would never have a reason to shop in a store like this and become immersed in the dream of happily ever after, where the dress was a representation of all that her life was—perfect and beautiful. Yes, things were great with Zach and she couldn’t imagine them being better than they were, but a wedding
? The two of them were already married. She was a mum. They hadn’t married for the show. And just because there was a chance their marriage might become what most people hoped for, the wedding dream just didn’t fit. They were having a reception, and there was no call for anything fancier than a semiformal dress. No gown. No veil. No hairdresser making her look like a goddess.

  As Ginger hustled to the back to find what she swore was the perfect ornament, Catherine found herself drawn to a small display to the left of the counter. There were tiny tuxedos, meant for children Xavier’s size. Adorable little bow ties and cummerbunds attached to the outfit.

  Perfect for a wedding.

  “Aren’t those so adorable?” Ginger asked, returning with a small brown box.

  Catherine nodded, unable to speak. She was stroking the fabric of a little suit jacket, and she realized her longing was probably obvious to the woman whose job it was to outfit women like her. Women who wanted a wedding.

  She couldn’t be that person.

  “I know you and Zach are already married, and your reception is going to be fairly informal, but maybe you can find an excuse to put Xavier in one of those.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” Catherine said, forcing herself to release the outfit, not take it to the cash register. It was too easy to picture what her wedding would look like. The dresses, tuxedos, cake, flowers…everything.

  She shook her head when she started imagining Xavier as a ring bearer. Her son couldn’t even walk. Plus, there was the small fact that she was already married.

  “Definitely create an excuse to have him wear a baby tux,” the blonde who’d been working on the dress said as she joined them. The bride she’d been working with was in a changing room, switching back into her street clothes. “I’m Olivia Mattson, by the way.”

  “Catherine Tisdale,” she said as they shook hands, wondering how Olivia managed to look so beautiful and simply elegant in her jeans and sweater.

  “Olivia designs wedding gowns,” Ginger said.

  “Married to Devon?” Catherine asked. “Thank you for the loan of the bassinet.” She involuntarily found her gaze drifting to Olivia’s midsection.