Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy

by Janice Lynn

  “Because of his service and the service of those like your father, we enjoy so many freedoms every day.” Sophie smiled. “Our goal is to honor their sacrifice and offer healing with the wrapping of a Quilt of Valor around those touched by war.”

  “That’s wonderful,” the younger woman said, picking up one of the many photos Sophie had printed and spread out on the table.

  Photos of men and women wrapped in their quilts. Men and women whose lives Sophie hoped they’d touched so that, when needed, the veterans felt the heartfelt hug of love and appreciation that was sewn into every quilt.

  “Being wrapped in a quilt is something I wish every serviceman and woman could experience,” she admitted. “I’ve met so many wonderful people who have sacrificed so much.”

  Just as her father had sacrificed so much.

  Isabelle blamed him for abandoning them. Sophie tried to view his choices differently, knowing her father had left for reasons that went beyond abandonment.

  The utter devastation she’d read in Cole’s journal echoed what she imagined had tormented her father.

  “They each have a story to tell, memories that are precious to them, friendships made that have lasted a lifetime,” she continued. “I’m always in awe at each quilt presentation of the person receiving the quilt. Their accomplishments are extraordinary. We owe so much to our wonderful military and I’m so proud to be the daughter of a man who served his country.”

  “I wish I sewed,” one of the women mused. “I’d love to make a quilt to donate.”

  “If you’re interested in learning, you are talking to the right person. I can teach you to sew. It’s what I do. Our local QOVF group meets once a month to sew for a few hours together at my shop, The Threaded Needle, which is just over that way.” She gestured in the direction of the shop. “If you want to learn, please come. There are some wonderful seamstresses there who’d love to teach you their craft as much as I would, and we always have a great time.”

  How could they not with the Butterflies there for entertainment?

  “Even if you discover sewing isn’t for you, you’ll still have made some new friends and so will we.” She handed each woman a business card and told them the next date and time. “We’d love to have you join us. There’s nothing to compare to wrapping a quilt you’ve made around a soldier. I don’t know how to fully put it into words except to say that it’s the best feeling in the world.”

  Sophie’s gaze went beyond the women to a uniformed man standing just beyond the tent. A handsome man in a fire department uniform rather than a Santa suit or the marine uniform she imagined he’d worn with distinction.

  “Cole.”

  Talk about the best feeling in the world.

  How long had he been standing there and why hadn’t he come on inside the tent?

  Automatically she smiled. Crazy, since he didn’t smile back. Then again, he didn’t most of the time, and that hadn’t dissuaded her yet. With as wonderful as his smiles were on the rare occasions he brandished them, she doubted she ever would quit trying for them.

  Maybe she was more patient that she’d thought.

  Either that, or all the praying for patience she’d been doing was paying off.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cole should have handed the snowflake to Andrew and let his bud deliver the ornament while Cole did anything other than purposely seek out Sophie.

  Instead, Andrew had been the one to bail when Sheriff Roscoe had stepped up and asked if he’d ridden his motorcycle lately.

  Once his friend got to talking about Big Bad Bertha, he’d always lose track of time. He and the sheriff would likely still be talking motorcycles when the whole festival was over and people started taking down the tents.

  Deciding he’d rather deliver the ornament without an audience, Cole had taken off for Sophie’s booth. With each step in her direction, the anticipation had built.

  Being near her flipped a switch inside him that was like existing versus living. Really living.

  With joy. Sophie’s joy.

  But after hearing her conversation with the two women, he wondered if he should have stayed put.

  No. It was better this way. He’d allowed his head to get clouded with thoughts and ideas that had no place outside of fairytales. This brought him back down to earth.

  So for that, he was glad he’d heard her talking to the women. He’d needed the reminder that Sophie’s interest in him stemmed from things other than girl meets boy and girl likes boy despite all the bad things boy has done and all the memories that haunted him.

  Sophie wanted to fix him. Probably by wrapping him in one of her quilts. As if it was that easy. She had no clue.

  “Thanks for the information. We’ll stop by your shop soon,” the younger of Sophie’s two visitors promised, taking a brochure along with the business card Sophie had given her.

  When the ladies left, Sophie turned her gaze back to him and flashed one of her most brilliant smiles. One that he’d swear lifted her whole body until she stood a couple inches taller.

  “Hi,” she said, sounding a bit breathy.

  He stepped to just inside her tent. “Hi back.”

  “I was hoping to get to see you again in your Santa suit.”

  He shrugged. “Can’t have two Santas running around tonight, and the American Legion sponsored a ‘photo with Santa’ booth. Plus, I’m on duty.”

  “Maybe next year.”

  He didn’t bother pointing out that he wouldn’t be wearing the suit next year, or ever again, for that matter. He’d have it cleaned, then he’d bring it back to the firehall for whoever got stuck with it next year.

  “Thanks for my Christmas candy.”

  “You’re welcome.” Cole picked up one of her photos, eyeing the image of a veteran wrapped in a blanket. An older gentleman in full uniform who was decorated to the hilt from what Cole could see that was not covered by the quilt around the man’s shoulders. “I expected to find for sale items from your shop in your booth, not all this patriotic quilt stuff.”

  “The Threaded Needle is an avid supporter of all things patriotic.” Grinning, she saluted him.

  “As are you?”

  “Of course.” Sophie stared up at him, her eyes glittering as she asked, “Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”

  Glancing back at the photo, Cole inhaled a deep breath. “It was just another day.”

  “Did you work?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for the text.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her smile was infectious as she added, “For future reference, it’s polite to respond in a timely fashion.”

  Cole regarded her, taking in her hair spilling from beneath her Santa hat, her still-flashing Christmas lights necklace, and the same puffy jacket she’d worn when they’d gone sledding. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were pink from the cold.

  “Just how long is a timely fashion? Am I still within an okay window?”

  Sophie’s eyes danced with mischief as she said, “Not even close. Anything beyond twenty-four hours is too long and in bad taste. You should make a note of it.”

  “I never was good with social etiquette.”

  “Well, now you know so that the next time I text, you can keep in mind that the clock is ticking.” She tapped her coat covered wrist. “Tick tock.”

  Studying her, Cole asked, “Do you intend to text me again?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, but you best not ignore my text next time if I do.”

  “I didn’t ignore your text.”

  He should just let it go and let her think he had. She didn’t need to know how much he’d agonized over her message and what his appropriate response, or lack thereof, should have been.

  “No? That’s so odd. I don’t recall getting a text back.” She noticed the small white paper bag
he held. “What’s that?”

  “Sarah sent it for you.”

  A smile spread across her face. “Oh! It must be my snowflakes I asked her to hold for me. I’m so glad she remembered. Yay!”

  Cole held out the bag. “I don’t know anything about snowflakes that were on hold for you, but she asked me to give this one to you.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Sophie’s cheeks pinkened as she took the bag, opened it, and gently lifted the ornament. “I’d asked her to put three back for me. When you said…I wonder why…” She stared at the single snowflake, then glanced up at him, seeming to realize why her friend had asked the favor of Cole. Her face flushed a deeper pink. “Oh, never mind.”

  Yeah, this was growing more awkward by the minute.

  “Thanks for bringing the snowflake to me.” She carefully tucked it into the bag she had stowed beneath the table. “I’ll ask Sarah about it later.”

  She wouldn’t have to as her friend would, no doubt, tell her that it had been Cole who’d bought the ornament. Cole was convinced Sarah was either a full-fledged Butterfly or maybe one in training. That Bodie had called them bees fit. They buzzed way too much to be labeled butterflies. The older women probably called Sarah a caterpillar or something just as corny.

  Why else would Sarah so obviously matchmake? Perhaps she thought because Bodie was such a good man, Cole must be, too. She didn’t know his past to know any better.

  Unless Sophie had told her. But no, if Sarah had any idea what he’d been through, what he’d done, she’d want her friend to stay as far away from Cole as possible.

  A woman came into the tent, took a brochure, then asked Sophie a question about how to sign up her grandmother, who’d apparently been an Army nurse once upon a time.

  Answering the woman’s question, Sophie’s smile wattage flashed with her excitement over her answer and her enthusiasm for the organization she was promoting.

  “What is all this stuff?” Cole asked after the woman left, glancing around at the various patriotic quilts displayed around the tent. Three sides of the tent were covered in red, white, and blue quilts, probably to block the wind and cut down on the cold as much as for décor.

  If he’d thought her wattage had been cranked up answering the woman’s question, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Her current smile was so brilliant that Cole felt as if he’d just stepped into a spotlight. So much so that he fought to keep from taking a step back, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Or given the season, should that be a reindeer?

  If he wasn’t careful, Sophie would be hooking him up to a sleigh and saying it was for the benefit of his own Christmas spirit.

  Eyes sparkling, she clasped her hands together. “I’m so glad you asked.”

  Then she launched into a passion-filled spiel about the organization she belonged to that made quilts for the members of the military.

  “Our local group awards in this area, as well as sending some to the organization’s national headquarters to help meet requests they get for quilt awards.” Her eyes took on that about-to-bubble-over, hope-filled look she’d had the first time they’d met, the one packed with so much happiness. But this time, it also held a hint of hesitancy that set warning bells off in Cole’s head.

  “I want to—” she began, causing Cole’s throat to tighten.

  “No.” He cut her off before she could say more.

  Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that spicy chili after all, because he was feeling pangs again. Lots of pangs. Not of jealousy, but of absolute refusal to even consider what she’d been on the verge of saying.

  Everything in him rejected the idea of Sophie awarding him anything. Of anyone “awarding” something to him that was meant to convey honor.

  He’d done his job. And he hadn’t done it nearly well enough—if he had been someone truly worthy of any awards then he wouldn’t have let his men down.

  He deserved nothing more than what the government had paid him.

  They’d given him a medal. He hadn’t deserved that, either, even if they’d insisted that he had. Men died on his watch. There was nothing honorable or award-worthy about that.

  “But you—”

  Every muscle in his body contracted to the point where even breathing was difficult. “No buts.”

  Frowning, Sophie wasn’t ready to give up on what she’d obviously given a lot of thought to long before tonight. He could see that truth shining in her eyes—saw it and felt frustrated by it.

  Widening his stance, bracing for her rebuttal, Cole crossed his arms. He wouldn’t back down on this.

  He didn’t want her giving him things. Not quilts. Not pity. Not anything.

  “Just hear me out,” she persisted.

  “Cole!” Rosie said, coming up to the booth in a swirl of perfume and colorful winter attire that made the blue spikes of her hair poking out from beneath her hat seem tame. The older woman dropped an equally colorful purse beneath the table, then turned back to him. “Are you here to take Sophie to get something to eat during her break? Lord knows she probably hasn’t eaten a bite all day.”

  Sophie was about to go on break? And hadn’t eaten a bite all day?

  Maintaining his stiffened posture, Cole shook his head. “I should get back to Andrew. He’s probably wondering where I’m at.”

  Rosie waved her hand. “I just left him and Sheriff Roscoe. I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think they’re missing you.” She gave a little laugh, then patted his cheek with her gloved hand. “Go, be young. Take this hard-working girl to get some of Lou’s chili before it’s all gone. I swear that man puts magic into that pot when he makes his Christmas batch.”

  Cole narrowed his gaze at the older woman. Did everyone in the whole place think they were small-town Cupids?

  Scratch that, small-town Butterflies?

  “I’ve already eaten.”

  Rosie gave him a duh look. “Which is why I didn’t say for you to go get some of Lou’s chili but to feed our girl. Sophie, have you had anything to eat, dear?”

  Our girl? Sophie might be Rosie’s girl, but she wasn’t his.

  Looking a bit sheepish, Sophie shook her head. “I haven’t.”

  “Just as I suspected. You work too much,” Rosie clicked her tongue. “Now, go and see Lou. Make sure he’s behaving himself because I swear, that Alberta keeps coming over there as if we don’t all know what she’s doing.” Rosie’s gaze shot imaginary daggers in the direction of Lou’s booth. “It ain’t like she’s actually eating all that chili she keeps buying and giggling over.”

  Cole gave Sophie a blank look.

  Laughing, Sophie linked her arm with his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t.

  “Come on,” she said, “and I’ll explain on our way to Lou’s. Sometimes it’s easier to not argue, and I am hungry. All I’ve had since lunch is a piece of gum a firefighter tossed out to me during the best Christmas parade ever.”

  Sophie was right. Sometimes it was easier to just not argue.

  But his sense of self-preservation was arguing right and left that he should not have his arm linked with Sophie’s, that he should step away, that he shouldn’t be looking into her smiling face.

  That he shouldn’t be going soft inside just because she walked with her arm hooked with his and seemed oblivious to everything and everyone except him as they strolled toward Lou’s food truck.

  That her arm linked with his, her warm presence next to him, felt right even when he knew it wasn’t.

  Sophie talked non-stop while they made their way to where Cole had gotten his chili.

  “Mmm, everything smells heavenly.” She inhaled deeply, then smiled at the older gentleman in the food truck. “I’ll take one bowl of your Spicy Hot Chili and a hot chocolate, please.”

  Surprised she’d chosen the spicy version of Lou’s offerings, Cole got out his
wallet. He was still full, but the chili did smell good enough to make his own stomach growl.

  Sophie’s gaze dropped to where he was pulling out some cash. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t think Rosie meant for you to buy my dinner.” Thinking on what she’d said, she grinned and acknowledged what he’d already known. “Well, she might have, but I didn’t mean for you to.”

  “Rosie sent y’all over here?”

  Sophie’s gaze shifted to Lou.

  “Of course. Don’t you recognize spies when you see them?” She winked at Lou. “We’re taking notes on how many bowls of chili Alberta buys while we’re here.”

  Lou grinned. “Be sure to tell her that Alberta bought a few dozen, and that I threw in a pie for free. That should get Rosie’s goat good.”

  “Now, Lou,” Sophie mock-scolded. “You wouldn’t be purposely trying to make Rosie jealous, would you?”

  “Darn tootin’ I am. It’s past time for her to make an honest man out of me.”

  Sophie sighed. “Agreed. I’ll make it sound good and tell her about the twinkle I saw in your eyes.”

  “Thatta girl.” Lou grinned, then gave her the total for her items.

  “Here. I’ve got this,” Cole stepped forward, handing the man a twenty.

  “Cole,” Sophie began again, but when her gaze met his, she paused and seemed to come to a conclusion, because rather than argue further, she smiled and said, “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

  Sweet. Not an adjective used to describe him possibly ever. It was enough to make Cole laugh as he took his change from Lou and put his wallet back into his pocket.

  He took the bowl from her while she grabbed some packs of crackers and her hot chocolate.

  Rather than go to one of the few tables set up to try to squeeze in around folks already eating there, Sophie went to the garland-and-white-lights-draped gazebo with its big red bows at the top of each section. A fully decorated Christmas tree was in the center of the gazebo. Several people sat around on the seats along the perimeter, so Sophie sat down on the steps.