Most likely, it was just that he’d enjoyed spending time with Jackson yesterday. One thing he knew: It had nothing to do with the warmth he felt every time he got anywhere near Leah. Sure, she was pretty, with that light hair and those enchanting green-blue eyes, and sure she was easy to talk to―when she wasn’t yelling at him―and sure her smile was the most captivating he’d ever seen. But none of that meant he was interested in her as anything more than a neighbor. Or if he was, he shouldn’t be.
Wouldn’t be.
“Oh look.” That captivating smile was back as she pointed past him. He followed the trajectory of her finger to a large sign that read “Christmas Wonderland.”
His effort to suppress a groan failed, and Leah’s eyes slid to his, the shock on her face almost comical.
“You don’t like Christmas?”
Austin swallowed. That was a loaded question. He’d liked Christmas once upon a time. Looked forward to running downstairs with Chad to tear open the presents their mom had so lovingly picked out. There usually weren’t a ton, but they were always just what Austin and his brother had wanted.
He’d had some good Christmases in the service too. Time spent with his brother and the other men in their unit. Usually, they managed to fashion some sort of Christmas tree or another. And they often received care packages with thoughtful gifts from people they didn’t even know, which was always touching.
But last year had ruined Christmas for him. Losing your leg, your best friend, and the young Afghan boy you’d come to look at almost as a son would do that.
“I’ll wait for you guys over here.” He scraped the words out as he took a step toward a seating area made up of straw bales.
Leah tipped her head to the side, studying him. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it and turned to Jackson, gesturing him toward the Christmas Wonderland.
But the boy shook his head. “I don’t like Christmas either.” He trailed Austin.
“What?” Desperation filled Leah’s voice. “But I wanted to show you the Enchanted Forest and the First Christmas and―”
“I said I don’t want to.” Jackson folded his arms in front of him.
Leah’s eyes met Austin’s, pleading. The war in his chest was more heated than any battle he’d ever taken part in. Everything in him told him to avoid any reminders of Christmas. But then he looked at Jackson, defiant and clearly waiting for his lead. And Leah, broken and clearly needing his help.
He reached up with two hands to pull his knit cap lower over his ears. “Why don’t we all go?”
Leah’s relieved smile almost made the knot of anxiety crawling its way up his esophagus worthwhile.
But Jackson stood unmoving.
“I don’t like Christmas,” the boy repeated.
“This is going to be the best Christmas ever, you’ll see.” Leah took a tentative step toward her foster son. But Jackson shuffled away from her.
The renewed anguish in Leah’s eyes was too much for Austin. “Come on.” He clapped Jackson on the shoulder and led him toward the Christmas Wonderland. He wasn’t sure if Leah’s sigh as she fell into step behind them was one of relief or frustration, but he didn’t turn around to find out.
As he steered them toward the sign, Austin scanned the area. It wasn’t enclosed, so if he got in there and found he couldn’t handle it, there were literally hundreds of escape routes. Some of them went through what looked to be employee-only areas, but that was no big deal. As long as he could always find a way out, he’d be fine.
He hoped.
As they passed under the sign, Austin dragged in a long breath. So far, so good.
They made their way through a trail that led past dozens of trees, each decorated in a different style, some formal, some more festive. One was even decorated in red, white, and blue and had soldier ornaments hanging from its branches.
Austin kept walking, until they reached a life-size stable with actors dressed in nativity garb. He veered in the other direction―he had no need to sit here and watch people swallow this neat and tidy little story about a cute baby who was supposed to be the Savior of the world. If he couldn’t save Isaad and Tanner, how could he save Austin―or anyone else, for that matter?
But Leah’s hand on his arm stopped him. “I’d like to watch this for a minute, if you don’t mind.” Her words were soft, as if she knew he wanted to protest.
He pressed his mouth closed but led the way to a section of bleachers that had been erected to the side of the stable.
“Do you know the Christmas story?” he heard Leah ask Jackson.
“Like about Santa? Yeah, everyone does.” The boy’s tone implied what he thought of Leah’s question. If he kept this up, Austin was going to have to have a talk with him about speaking respectfully.
But Leah smiled at the kid and said gently, “I mean the true Christmas story. About Jesus.”
When Jackson didn’t answer, Leah gestured for Austin to find them a seat in the bleachers.
He scanned the mostly full benches. He could probably get to the top if he had to. But he’d rather not attempt it right now. Instead, he led the way to a section of the front row that had just enough room for the three of them. He sat, and Leah followed, leaving room between them for Jackson to squeeze in.
But the boy stepped to Austin’s other side, gesturing that Austin should slide over so he could sit there. Austin glanced at Leah, the hurt in her eyes lancing his gut, but at her subtle nod, he slid closer to her.
The space was so tight that he had to angle his shoulder behind her to make enough room for Jackson, and their arms pressed against each other.
Leah’s back stiffened, but she gave him a strained smile. Her warm cinnamony smell played with his senses, and he tried to take his focus off of her.
“This is stupid,” Jackson muttered from his other side.
Austin felt the same way, but he owed it to Leah not to show it.
“Give it a chance,” he whispered to the boy as music started to play over the speakers.
Jackson gave him a disagreeable look, but Austin’s gaze went to Leah. She was watching as a man and a pregnant woman―presumably Mary and Joseph―walked toward the stable. The look on Leah’s face―it was a look Austin would love to see there all the time. She looked at peace, filled with hope and joy. The look stirred something familiar.
He’d felt that way once, hadn’t he?
He shoved the question aside.
Even if he had, he’d never feel that way again. And there was no point dwelling on it.
“I’m sorry about the Ferris wheel.” Austin’s apology sent a renewed stab to Leah’s belly, but she shook her head as they stood together in her driveway after returning from Rothman’s. It wasn’t Austin’s fault that after the nativity play, she’d suggested they go on the farm’s small Ferris wheel―the first suggestion she’d had all day that excited Jackson. It also wasn’t Austin’s fault that it was a two-person ride. Or that Jackson had insisted on riding with Austin or not going on it at all.
Austin had tried his best to convince the boy to go with her, even resorting to bribery―he’d ride with the boy after Jackson took a turn with Leah―but nothing had worked.
She swallowed past the hurt that had been building for the past four days into a constant ache at the back of her throat and fought off the questions that had been swirling through her mind all afternoon. Why was Jackson resisting her affection? Why did he seem to adore Austin and loathe her? And worst of all, had becoming a foster mother been a terrible mistake?
“Thanks for coming,” she finally managed to say. “It was good for Jackson.”
Austin touched a hand to her elbow. “It will get better.”
She let out a breath. “Yeah.”
In church this morning, sitting next to Jackson, surrounded by her church family, she’d been sure that was true. But now she was less certain than ever.
The front door burst open, and Jackson stepped outside. He’d peeled off
his socks and shoes, but he still wore the sweatshirt Austin had given him.
“Don’t come out here barefoot,” Leah called, though she was pretty sure her reprimand lacked conviction. She was too exhausted to summon any up right now.
To her surprise, Jackson pulled his feet back into the house, though he leaned his torso farther out the door. “You want to see Ned?”
Though she and Austin were standing right next to each other, Leah knew the question was directed to her neighbor.
“Oh, uh―” Austin hesitated, and Leah could feel his gaze slide to her.
She shrugged. “Might as well come in and see the squirrel you roped me into keeping.”
“I’m not sure you could be roped into anything,” Austin muttered. He gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, then stepped past her toward the house.
Leah followed, her feet dragging through what was left of the snow. When was the last time she’d been this exhausted?
Inside, she busied herself heating up leftovers from yesterday’s wedding. She’d make a plate for herself and one to send home with Austin. And a PBJ for Jackson.
She was pulling the last of the food from the microwave when Austin emerged from Jackson’s room.
“You have to admit Ned is cute.” Austin stepped into the kitchen, flashing her a smile that she couldn’t help but return. If she didn’t know better, she’d say today hadn’t been good for only Jackson. It’d been good for Austin too. He still wore that haunted look, but at least he’d started smiling more.
“Don’t even start.” But she couldn’t keep a straight face. Aside from looking like a rat, the baby squirrel was fairly adorable. And the little sounds it made were precious.
“I guess I’m going to head out. Let you guys get some dinner.”
But Leah wasn’t going to have any of that. “You aren’t leaving until I give you your plate, young man. No takeout pizza for you tonight.”
Austin opened his mouth, and she was sure he was going to argue, but then he said, “I was hoping you’d say that. That food smells delicious.”
She couldn’t resist laughing. She passed him the plate that held Jackson’s sandwich. “Would you take this to Jackson? You don’t have to make sure he eats it or anything. He’ll eat it later when no one is watching.”
Austin’s brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“That I haven’t figured out. But for now I’m happy he’s actually eating something.”
Austin’s gaze lingered on her another moment, then he took the sandwich and brought it to Jackson’s room. He was back within a few seconds.
Leah examined the plate she’d made him. “I should cover this, so it doesn’t get cold as you’re carrying it home. Or―” She didn’t know why she stopped. She had friends eat here all the time. It was no big deal if she invited him to do the same. He was becoming a friend, wasn’t he?
Still, what if he took the invitation the wrong way?
Better to play it safe.
“Or I could put it in a container.” She ducked into one of her lower cabinets, sticking her head farther into it than strictly necessary to fetch her favorite large container, mainly to hide the flush rising to her cheeks.
There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, she scolded herself. It’s not like you wanted to invite him as anything more than a friend.
By the time she’d nabbed the container and its matching cover, her face had cooled. She stood and fit the food into it, then snapped the cover on and passed it to him.
“Thank you.” His dark eyes held hers. “I’ll enjoy this.”
She offered a silent nod, and he turned toward the door.
“Austin, wait.” She bit her lip as he turned toward her, eyes searching.
“Why don’t you―” But his mesmerizing gaze made her change her mind again. “Why don’t you take one of these too?”
She opened the box of leftover cupcakes Peyton had left and passed one to him.
“Thanks.” He turned toward the door again, hesitating a second this time.
But she held her tongue, and after a moment, he was gone.
Chapter 13
The resistance band pulled taut as Austin finished his last set of leg lifts. He swiped at his forehead, then picked up his dumbbells, glancing at the clock on the wall. Four thirty. That gave him just enough time to finish his workout and shower before Leah stopped by with dinner.
At least if she continued the pattern they’d fallen into over the last few days.
Austin tried to feel guilty for taking advantage of her kindness. But she truly seemed to enjoy giving him food―which probably explained her career as a caterer. And, maybe he shouldn’t admit it, but he’d come to look forward to the few minutes they spent together each day as they exchanged dishes, his empty ones for her freshly filled ones.
Those were the few moments each day when he could let himself focus on something other than his rehabilitation and getting back to Afghanistan. When his thoughts didn’t track to what had happened over there―what could still be happening to his brother.
When Leah was here, he could think about other things. Like her sparkling laugh. And her swirly eyes. And her easy kindness.
Austin shook his head at the dumbbells, resting motionless in his hands.
He was acting like a kid with a crush.
Which was the furthest thing from what he was.
He was simply a man who appreciated a friendly neighbor―and good food.
One of these days, he’d have to start cooking for himself again. But how could he? After what Tanner had said the last time he cooked?
If this is the last meal I ever eat, I’ll die happy.
What was he supposed to do with the fact that it had been the last meal Tanner ever ate?
The blare of a video call nearly made him drop the still uncurled dumbbell on his toes. He set the weights down and dove toward his computer. Thursdays were Chad’s day to call. If someone was calling on a Wednesday―Austin’s throat closed.
No, not Chad. Please don’t let anything have happened to Chad.
The moment he clicked to answer and Chad’s face appeared on the screen, Austin crumpled onto the couch.
Chad was alive. He was in one piece.
“Why are you calling?”
“It’s good to see you too, brother.” Chad wagged his eyebrows.
But the scare of the call hadn’t worn off, and Austin wasn’t ready to joke.
“Seriously, Chad. What’s wrong? Why are you calling early?”
“I’m hurt.” Chad pressed a mock hand to his heart. “Can’t a guy just want to talk to his little brother?”
Under the joking, Austin heard what his brother wasn’t saying. He was going on an assignment and wanted to call in case―
Austin couldn’t let himself go there. He worked hard to match his brother’s joking tone. “A guy can. You can’t.”
A flash of relief crossed Chad’s face. He knew Austin had caught on.
“So, how’s Hope Springs?”
“Pretty quiet. Kind of peaceful, actually.”
“Good. And have you met some actual people? Other than the mailman this time?”
“Yes.” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to leave it at that.
Chad’s eyes narrowed. “Name two people.”
“Leah, Jackson, Sophie, Spencer, Peyton, Jade, Dan.” He paused, trying to remember the names of the others he had met at Leah’s house.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Chad’s eyes went wide. “Are you making up names now?”
Austin snorted. “No. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Where did you possibly meet that many people in under a week?”
Austin shrugged. “Just my natural charisma.”
Now it was Chad’s turn to snort. “No, seriously.”
“My neighbor dragged me over to her house when she had some friends over.”
“She?” Chad’s eyebrows lifted toward his slightly receding hairline.
“Knock it
off.” But Austin couldn’t deny the heat radiating from his face. Hopefully Chad’s connection wasn’t good enough to detect it from the other side of the world.
“Aw, does little Austin like a girl?”
“Seriously, Chad. Knock it off. It’s not like that.”
“Like what?” Chad blinked at him innocently. “Seriously, though, Austin. I hope you do like her.”
“Why? For all you know, she’s hideous.”
Chad gave him a knowing look. “Is she?”
Austin groaned. He’d walked right into that one.
“No.” The word came out begrudgingly. But Leah was the farthest thing from hideous. “She’s actually kind of gorgeous.”
“I knew it.” Chad’s chortle shot through the computer.
“Don’t get too full of yourself.” Austin had to find a way to change the subject. “Just because she’s pretty doesn’t mean I’m interested.”
A knock at the door made him lift his head. On the other side of the front window, Leah was waving at him, wearing a bright smile.
“Ah, look at your face.” Chad’s amused voice yanked Austin’s attention back to the computer screen. “It’s her, isn’t it? You are such a goner.”
Austin rolled his eyes. “I’m not a goner. She has food, and I’m hungry.”
“Wait, you two are having dinner together? And you say there’s nothing going on?”
“We’re not having dinner together.” They kept their relationship strictly neighborly. “She noticed that I was getting takeout all the time and apparently made it her mission to give me good food. She’s a caterer, so―”
“Are you going to keep the poor girl out in the cold all night, or are you going to answer the door?”
“I’ll answer the door if you ever shut up for a minute.”
“Actually, I’d love to stick around to see how this goes, but I have to fly.”
“Oh.” Much as Austin didn’t want Chad hovering in the background of his conversation with Leah, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to his brother yet. Not if it might be the last time―
Stop thinking like that.
“Take care of yourself, bro.” He swallowed down all the other things he should say but couldn’t.
Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5) Page 8