by Janice Lynn
“Well,” Sarah smiled, “that booth is near and dear to both our hearts. I want to help get word out.”
The organization had brought Bodie into Sarah’s life after she’d donated a quilt that had been awarded to him. He’d come to town to thank her and had stayed to fall in love. Sophie’s experience with the organization had been no less impactful. Her efforts had saved Sophie’s life in many ways as making those quilts for soldiers had helped her to deal with her father’s PTSD. She’d been so helpless while he’d been struggling, but by making the quilts, she could feel as if she was giving back, could even hope she could make a difference to other military personnel in ways she hadn’t been able to help her father. If only she’d been old enough to have made him one back when he’d needed it most, the lovingly sewn fabric could have wrapped him in love.
“When Bodie and I finish working our shift selling snowflakes, we’ll stop by in case you need a break.”
“Deal,” Sophie agreed, grateful she had such a good friend to help promote the wonderful foundation. “I bet y’all will sell out again this year. If I don’t make it by prior to you getting low, save me three.” She always gave one of the handmade snowflakes each to her mother and sister and held one back to someday use on a tree in the house she’d eventually get. “I just love them.”
“I’ll pick you out some while we’re setting up the displays and put them aside,” Sarah promised. “By the way, Bodie went out to your fireman’s place for a while yesterday to look at his floors.”
“Cole’s not my fireman, but that’s great.” Sophie fought to keep all visible signs of her interest at a minimum.
“Yeah. He says Cole has a great farmhouse that’s sitting on the prettiest piece of land, even has a pond where he offered to let Bodie fish whenever he wanted to get away. I think my fiancé might have been a little jealous of the wide-open space.”
“I seriously doubt that since Bodie has you, Harry, and Hamilton House.” The bed and breakfast didn’t have acreage but did boast a huge yard that was more than enough room for Harry to stretch his legs.
“Cole invited him to bring Harry back anytime, whether he was home or not. He said that Harry had the best time running and chasing birds.” Sarah smiled. “The farm next to Cole’s has cows and apparently Harry didn’t know quite what to think of them and kept wanting to herd them even though to our knowledge he’s never been around cows—or any livestock at all—in his life.”
Picturing the dog herding the cows, Sophie laughed. “I guess it’s instinctual for Harry to want to herd them.”
“Must be,” Sarah agreed. “Anyway, Harry liked Cole, and so did Bodie.”
“I’d say Bodie understands Cole in ways you and I never could.”
Sarah’s smile faded. “Because of what you read in Cole’s journal? Is it similar to the things Bodie went through?”
Sophie shrugged. “Maybe.” She didn’t know specific details of Bodie’s military stint. On Cole’s end, he’d probably say she knew too much. Maybe she did, since it put him so on guard with her.
“Does he ever talk about his time in the service?” Sarah asked.
“Not to me, but then he wouldn’t. We’re just acquaintances.” She wanted to say “friends,” but she wasn’t sure they were even that. He’d been very clear that he didn’t want to be—but she had a little bit of hope that she’d started to change his mind. The longer she went without hearing from him, though, the more that hope was shadowed by doubt. Did friends have walls the height of Cole’s? “Did he mention anything to Bodie?”
“Not that Bodie told me, but he wouldn’t have said anything if he believed Cole wouldn’t have wanted it repeated.”
Respecting and understanding that, Sophie nodded. “Those military guys stick together.”
“Bodie plans to go back to help him with a few things that are two-men jobs. He was laughing that they were going to have a good, old-fashioned barn raising this spring with some of the guys from the firehall, too.” Sarah laughed. “I’m not sure if building a barn means Cole plans to start farming or what.”
Sophie was grateful Bodie and Cole had hit it off and tried to imagine Cole farming. She could see him out, working the land, and drawing pleasure from his fields yielding crops. It was easy to imagine that he’d find the process soothing, a renewing of life.
“It might be difficult when he works twenty-four-hour shifts at the firehall,” she mused out loud. “At least, it would be difficult if he intends to have animals.”
Although, she supposed he could hire someone to help during his firehall work shifts. Really, what did she know about farming? She’d lived in the house off the square her entire life, and they’d never even had a garden.
Sarah nodded. “I’m glad the sheriff’s department has more regular work hours. Of course, Harry’s right there with Bodie in his patrol car.”
Sophie sighed. “Harry makes me want a pet.”
“Every animal makes you want a pet,” Sarah teased before she asked, “Have you seen your cat recently?”
“Ha. Every night, but only from a distance. You’d think after I risked life and limb—limb, ha ha—that the cat would love me, but no, he’s still playing hard to get. The closest I’ve gotten to him was in that tree—and sitting a few feet away on the front porch while he eats my friendship offerings.”
“Bless him.” Sarah patted her hand. “And bless you for taking care of him. He’ll come around.”
“You’d think he would trust me. I’ve been feeding him for almost a month.”
“Sometimes it takes a while to build trust. Be patient. With the cat,” Sarah’s gaze cut to Sophie, “and with Cole.”
“I told you we’re just acquaintances,” Sophie insisted.
“I know what you said,” Sarah gave a knowing smile, “and I know what I said.”
Be patient, Sophie thought later that night, sitting on her bed.
She hand-stitched a block together for the Quilt of Valor she was making, pushing the needle through the navy material and pulling it to the other side, then repeating the process over and over. Most of the blocks were machine-sewn, but the very center one, she’d decided she wanted to hand-piece.
The personal touch was important to her. She could be patient for this and put in the extra, time-consuming effort, even if patience wasn’t her virtue.
Which made her smile as the memory of Cole saying her virtue was joy flashed through her mind.
She’d had a great day, a day truly filled with being thankful for all her many blessings. Still, she couldn’t say she felt particularly filled with joy just now.
Because she was preoccupied wondering about Cole.
She regretted not inviting him to Aunt Claudia’s Thanksgiving dinner. Which was silly. Why would she have invited him? Why would he have accepted? He’d barely even met her aunt.
Then again, her uncle and aunt’s home had always been open to anyone and everyone during the holidays, whether family or friend. No one would have said anything had Cole attended other than to welcome him with open arms and a big plate of turkey and dressing with all the fixings.
Okay, so Sarah and Isabelle would have questioned her, and Maybelle would have given a raised eyebrow or two, but other than that…guilt nagged at her.
What if Cole had sat home alone? How awful was that? That someone who’d put their life on the line defending her freedom and safeguarding her ability to gather with family and friends might have had to spend the holiday by himself?
No one should be alone on the holidays, especially not someone who had risked his all and given such big chunks of himself for his country.
Guilt ate at her. Why hadn’t she invited him?
Isabelle wouldn’t have been happy, as she worried Sophie was getting too invested. But her sister wouldn’t have wanted Cole home alone on Thanksgiving anymore than Sophie would hav
e. Isabelle had a good heart, even if she was all business most of the time.
Sophie pushed the needle into the fabric—then, not able to stand inaction a moment longer, she set the quilt to the side and reached for her phone.
Should she call Cole and wish him a happy Thanksgiving?
Why did her belly knot at the thought? Maybe she’d just text him instead, let him know she was thinking about him and hoped he’d had a good holiday.
That didn’t quite feel right, either. What she really wanted was to give him a smile.
And, as she often did, she gave in to the impulse to do just that.
Chapter Eleven
“Aren’t we a pathetic trio, swapping schedules so we could spend the day at work together?”
Cole snorted at Andrew’s observation. Thankfully, it had been a slow day at the firehall, and they were just hanging at the station. Earlier, they’d helped with a minor traffic accident, but otherwise, they’d not had a single call.
Cole worked on a crossword puzzle. Ben and Andrew were yet again saving a video game world from an alien takeover. Overall, the firehall was as quiet as the day had been.
Sometimes, Cole got antsy when there were no calls. He liked to be busy, to be working. When he reminded himself that a call coming in meant someone somewhere was having a bad, bad day, it pulled his wayward thoughts back in line. Quiet was good. Only, sometimes it wasn’t as it gave Cole too much time to think.
Thus, the puzzle book.
“You thought I swapped so I’d get to spend Thanksgiving Day with you two?” Looking up from his crossword, Cole shook his head. “You just keep on believing that, buddy.”
Andrew laughed. “More like you hoped it would be slow enough that we could go by my grandma’s for a plate.”
“There is that,” Cole agreed. This was Cole’s first Thanksgiving in Pine Hill, but he’d heard several of the guys mention how Andrew’s Grandma Ruby always made extra so the crew on duty could swing by and get a plate—or two. He’d been with Andrew and had gone by for Easter dinner and the Fourth of July cookout where he’d first set eyes on Sophie. Grandma Ruby’s cooking skills were worth working holidays, and tonight’s homecooked meal, complete with her famous potatoes, had exceeded expectations.
“That’s why I volunteered,” Ben assured, repeatedly zapping a grotesque-appearing being and high-fiving Andrew when the alien exploded. “It had nothing to do with your ugly mugs.”
“You volunteered because Susan wanted you to come to Thanksgiving dinner with her parents,” Andrew teased, gearing up for their next big battle as more aliens appeared on the television screen.
“You may be on to something,” Ben agreed. “I like her, but I’m not ready to meet her family, especially not at a holiday get-together.” He grimaced. “As much as I’d like her to be, I don’t think she’s the one.”
“What makes you think that?” Cole asked, curious as to what Ben meant. Susan had seemed nice enough. The few times Cole had been around them together, they’d seemed to enjoy each other’s company. And Ben made no secret of the fact that he hoped to marry and have kids, so this couldn’t be a question of not wanting a commitment.
“That she’s not the one I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with? Susan’s just not—and it doesn’t feel right to do things like go to her parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. She’s a great person, though, and I don’t have the heart to end things right before Christmas.”
Cole started to remind Ben that he and the girl had only been going out a few weeks but held his tongue. If Ben didn’t want to end things until after the holidays, that was between him and Susan.
“Unfortunately for you, and us,” Andrew teased, rapidly pressing a button on his controller, “you’re with the ones you’re meant to spend your life with. May as well face it.”
Cole snorted, but thought to himself that he was okay with Andrew’s observation. Much as Cole had felt about his brothers in arms in the Marines, Andrew and Ben were family. For the most part, Cole was at peace with his lot in life. It was what it was and could be much worse.
“What about you, Cole?” Ben put him on the spot.
Cole looked up from his crossword puzzle again—just as well as he was stuck on a seven-letter word for “strips in geography.” “What about me?”
“You and Sophie.”
“There is no me and Sophie, unless you’re talking toy drive partners. Unlike you, I am not interested in meeting anyone, much less ‘the one’.”
Quite the opposite, he thought, as he mentally answered “isthmus” on his puzzle.
“So you keep saying, but we were there, remember? We saw you two together snow sledding and playing word games.”
They were never going to let him live that down. He’d known that even at the time, but the temptation of playing with Sophie in the snow had been irresistible. Much about her was irresistible.
Like thoughts of her. They kept slipping into his head, had even invaded some of his dreams, which beat the nightmares that occasionally haunted his sleep.
“Not to mention snowball fighting,” Andrew added. “All’s fair in love and snow.”
Glancing back down at the blank puzzle, mentally filling in that the second letter was an “r” on a seven-letter word meaning “caught”, Cole snorted. “Shows how much you two know, or don’t know. I haven’t seen Sophie since that night.”
That night that had been fun and almost carefree at times. He’d enjoyed sledding with Sophie, had enjoyed their snowball fight and then drinking hot chocolate with her while her Butterfly friends kept suggesting they wrap up in a shared quilt together for warmth. Yeah, right. Cole had shot that down real fast. But playing the board game hadn’t been so bad. She’d been so ecstatic that they’d beat the other team and, well, he’d enjoyed that, too.
None of which was good. Not when a darkness resided deep within him that could take hold at any time and pull him beneath its depths.
He needed to stay away from her for so many reasons. But when Sophie smiled at him, it wasn’t easy to remember that nothing more than pity motivated her kindness, especially when that light sparkled in her pretty eyes as it had when she’d tossed snowballs at him.
“Have you talked to her?”
Ben didn’t look away from their game, seemingly fully focused on the television screen, but Cole didn’t fool himself. If he ignored the question, both of his buddies would be all over it, accusing him of holding out on them. It was much better to address things directly with them.
“No. There’s no need for me to talk to Sophie. Like I said, there’s nothing between us other than the toy drive.”
Sophie had read his journal. That he had to keep reminding himself of that when he thought of her, because it wasn’t what automatically came to mind anymore, said a lot, considering the gravity of what she’d read in that blasted book, considering what motivated her friendliness.
What came to mind first now was her quick smile, her bubbly personality, her exuberance for life, and how the world looked brighter when she was around, as if she somehow had the ability to help others to look at the world through the rose-colored glasses she viewed life through.
Probably because she glowed with happiness and anyone near her couldn’t help but be affected with joy.
“Yeah, that’s been a whole, what, week?” Ben joked, not sounding impressed by the time gap.
“Not even,” Andrew added from where he leaned back in his chair and killed bad guy alien after bad guy alien.
“I mean, if you haven’t seen her or talked to her in five days, then clearly you must be telling the truth and there’s nothing between the two of you,” Ben continued.
“Clearly,” Andrew nodded.
Cole rolled his eyes. “With friends like you…”
“Hey, I provided you with Thanksgiving dinner, didn’t I?”
Maybe mention of the pie Grandma Ruby had sent with them would change the current course of the conversation.
“You leave my buttermilk pie alone,” Andrew warned, glancing away from the game long enough to shoot a narrow-eyed glare Cole’s way.
“I was there,” Cole reminded. “I heard her say that pie was for all of us.”
“She handed it to me, and I’m blood. I get dibs.”
“Trapped,” Cole mumbled out loud, the solution to his seven-letter word clue finally hitting him. Rather than writing the word onto the crossword puzzle, he read the next clue. He never wrote the answers in but used the games to help keep his mind sharp, to make himself remember each answer and where it fell on the page. He liked the extra challenge.
“What?” Ben asked, confused at Cole’s non-sequitur.
“Nothing.” Cole shook his head just as his phone dinged, indicating he had a text message.
Pausing their game, Ben and Andrew exchanged looks, then turned toward him wide-eyed.
Cole’s phone never went off. There was no reason for it to when he was at the firehall. He was only ever contacted by his fellow firefighters, and there was no reason for them to contact him on his cell phone when he was already there. The firehall was the only reason he even had a phone in the first place as he had no qualms with living off the grid and had done so in the past. But it was against policy not to have one in case there was an emergency that meant additional manpower was needed.
“My money is on that being from a certain toy drive partner,” Ben guessed.
“One who’s nothing more than that,” Andrew added.
While pulling his phone from his pocket, Cole frowned at his friends. “You two are crazy and have overactive imaginations. Sophie has no reason to text me.”