Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy

by Janice Lynn

  “I…”

  “Are you working at the station?” She already knew he wasn’t. Not unless he’d swapped schedules with someone again.

  “I’m not, but—”

  “But you’re not into helping the elderly who aren’t physically able and need help making one of their last Christmases special?”

  His gaze narrowed as he regarded her. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

  “Not if it means I get to spend the afternoon decorating Christmas trees with you while helping others.” Sophie fought smiling. “I mean, come on, that’s a win-win.”

  Perhaps she shouldn’t have admitted the part about wanting to spend time with him.

  Only, she did want to spend time with him. And what better way than while decorating for the elderly? Plus, she suspected the white knight in him wouldn’t be able to say no. Cole liked to help others. That came through in everything he did, despite anything he might say or think otherwise.

  “I’m not much on church.”

  “Have you actually been to church?” Sophie wasn’t backing down, not when she believed he needed what she was offering him. Friendship, peace, a sense of community and belonging.

  “Not in years.”

  “That’s your problem. But even if you had, you’ve never been to church with me,” she reminded as if that was something great and wonderful. Maybe if she acted as if it was, he’d buy it. Probably not, but she pressed on. “Sitting next to me in church brings the experience up to another whole level. You shouldn’t miss it.”

  “You have me curious,” he admitted, eyeing her. “But I’m not sure. Church really isn’t my thing.”

  “You’ll at least think about it?”

  He took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll think about it,” he promised. “But don’t hold your breath.”

  Sophie wouldn’t. She knew it was a long shot, but that he was considering it made her smile.

  Cole carried another box into the church community room and put it with the other donations that had been collected. “That’s the last of them.”

  Sophie eyed the various toys and games. When her gaze met Cole’s, she looked concerned. “At first glance, it looks like a lot, but we’re going to need way more with taking on the Triple B Ranch for Kids.”

  Cole’s chest tightened at the worry in her voice. “There will be more toys donated between now and the end of the drive. We’ll get the word out about the increased need—maybe it’ll make people want to give a little more. We’ve still got time.”

  “I hope Maybelle doesn’t come by here before then, because there are a lot of kids on our list needing presents.” Her gaze skimmed the toys. “There’s definitely not enough to do as much as we usually do.”

  Seeing the anxiety etched on her face knotted his stomach. Sophie was twinkling Christmas lights and happiness, not frowns and worrying. He didn’t like it. Nor did he like the realization of the lengths he’d go to put the sparkle back into her eyes.

  “What about the cash donations?” They’d collected a few checks on the first day they’d gone around to businesses and had gotten a few more today. “Will those be used to buy more toys to help fill the gaps?”

  Sophie shook her head. “At least, we never have bought toys with the money donations in the past. We use the cash to purchase clothes for each kid. A shirt, pair of jeans, socks, underwear, and a pair of shoes. Plus, it’s used to buy the wrapping paper, ribbons, etc. that we wrap each kids’ gifts in. The toys have always been donated directly and the other things purchased specifically for each child on our list.”

  “It’ll all work out.”

  With one last glance at the stack of donated items, Sophie nodded. “You’re right. No Pine Hill kid is going to go without a magical Christmas morning.”

  Cole suspected that Sophie would personally ensure each kid had plenty of gifts even if it meant emptying her savings account.

  Cole suspected he’d give up quite a bit to ensure Sophie didn’t have to.

  Although worry still shined in her eyes, she smiled at him. “Thanks for going with me today. We’ll keep our fingers crossed that everyone ups their donations this year and that on our last collection, the bins are so overflowing with goodies that we can’t carry them all. I’d say our bins, but hopefully, all the bins will be full. I don’t even care if it means losing your challenge with Andrew and Ben.”

  Cole hoped that, too. And not just for the kids to get a merry Christmas. But because he knew full bins meant a merry Sophie.

  He’d figure something out. Maybe he could talk to the guys at the firehall and see if they could come up with a little extra. Sure, they’d rag him, but seeing the joy that would light in Sophie’s eyes and knowing every kid had a special gift would make it worth their teasing.

  The realization of how much fulfilling this goal of Sophie’s mattered to him, and how much he’d be willing to do to see it happen, made him feel a little as if he were walking into a burning building without his gear.

  Would her belly please quit doing acrobatics? Sophie placed her hand over her stomach for the dozenth time that Sunday morning in hopes it would calm the nervous gurgling.

  Although she rotated out on teaching a children’s Sunday school class, she was currently on an off cycle, so she sat with her mother and Isabelle in a ladies’ class after arriving early at church.

  When class finished, they headed to the auditorium for the main service. Sophie spoke to most everyone she passed as she, Isabelle, and their mother made their way to a pew near the front where they typically sat. Her mother and Isabelle would be fine regardless of where they sat, but Sophie found that if she sat near the back, she got distracted too easily with people watching, baby watching, and mind wandering. People were so interesting, and their church had the cutest kids ever.

  Her family knew that as long as she was up front, Pastor Smith would hold her attention. Usually.

  Today, that might be difficult for the pastor to do.

  Would Cole show?

  Of course, by the time Pastor Smith started his lesson, Sophie would know whether or not he’d come, so maybe she could focus. Until then, though, she was a bundle of nerves.

  She told herself not to get her hopes up. Cole had never said he would attend.

  He never said he wouldn’t, either, she countered, determined she was going to think positively. Wasn’t that why she’d taken extra time in choosing what she was going to wear today? She’d ended up in a comfy red dress decorated with a cute penguin with a Christmas scarf around its neck, paired with black tights and boots, and a pair of dangly Christmas wreath earrings that would be great for decorating later.

  “What’s up with looking behind you?” Isabelle turned to try to see what Sophie was looking at. “Expecting someone?”

  Sophie’s face heated. She needed to stop checking. If he arrived, he’d find her. Any of the ushers could direct him toward where she and her family always sat.

  “Isn’t that just the sweetest?” she asked, ignoring her sister’s question as she gestured toward the front of the church.

  “Holy, holy, holy,” one of the church’s little cuties sang from where he stood near the front podium, singing and waving his hand along with his song.

  Despite being on edge with wondering if Cole would show, Sophie smiled. She adored watching the toddler’s love of singing.

  “Precious,” Isabelle agreed, smiling, too.

  Once her sister was occupied with watching the child, Sophie’s mind went back to Cole. Maybe he would visit. She hoped so. If not, she’d invite him again. She’d text him another invite that afternoon, let him know she’d missed seeing him.

  “Sophie?”

  Knowing she was antsy and had almost turned to look over her shoulder again, Sophie nodded at her sister and told herself to settle down. “Sorry. Just thinking abo
ut what I’m planning to do this afternoon.”

  Isabelle seemed to accept her answer, then turned to listen to something their mother was saying. Thank you, Mom.

  Sophie’s thoughts went right back to Cole.

  As she often did, she’d thought about him a lot the night before while she’d been working on her quilt and talking to the cat watching her from her window ledge. Stitches hadn’t offered up any ideas on how she could make Cole’s Christmas better when he truly didn’t seem to see the holiday as anything more than another workday. Still, she’d appreciated what a good listener he’d been. Lately, the cat had been keeping her company nightly, even if from the other side of a glass barrier. She only wished that Cole was as constant of a presence in her life.

  The more she got to know Cole, the more she wanted to make every day better in his world—and to include him in her world.

  When it was time for services to start, Sophie let out the breath she’d been holding.

  Cole wasn’t coming.

  Had she really thought he would? That he’d walk into church and sit beside her and listen to Sarah’s dad talk about the most amazing and loving God who was the reason why Sophie believed in ultimate goodness?

  Part of her had believed he would.

  Because she felt this crazy connection to Cole, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, she was certain that he felt it too. The way he’d looked at her when she’d invited him...

  It was likely the journal that made her feel so close to him: the fact that she’d read it and gotten that inner look at such raw emotions combined with her knowledge that her father had suffered a similar torment. Whatever, she just knew the connection between them existed and that it seemed as fragile as a butterfly’s wing and yet as powerful as a raging river.

  It was both.

  The only positive to his not showing up was that she didn’t have to explain her invitation to Isabelle, who’d been suspicious all morning, commenting on Sophie taking much longer in the bathroom than she typically did while getting ready.

  It was no wonder her sister thought something was up since Sophie had spent ages doing her hair and make-up.

  Too bad her efforts to dress up had been wasted. Because she’d wanted to dress up for Cole and see that spark of male appreciation flare in his pale blue eyes.

  Sophie bit into her lower lip and reminded herself that she only wanted to be friends with Cole.

  Except she was in church so she really shouldn’t lie to herself that way.

  What was Cole doing at church?

  He certainly didn’t belong inside these hallowed walls. Not because he didn’t believe in a higher being, but just because the things he’d done had permanently tainted him inside. Some things were unforgiveable.

  He was unworthy to have stepped foot inside the doors.

  And yet, here he was. Cole wasn’t a man who felt fear often and gave in to it even less, but Sophie sure had a way of pushing him outside his comfort zone. Not that he was necessarily afraid of being at church; it was more the woman who had motivated his donning his only pair of dress slacks and a white button-down that made him nervous. He’d topped his best attempt at “church clothes” with a black dress coat that had belonged to his uncle and somehow made him feel less vulnerable in his unaccustomed attire.

  Or at least, it had until he’d actually walked inside the building.

  He shouldn’t be here.

  “Welcome,” a thin, mostly bald man who had to be knocking ninety said, holding out his frail hand to Cole. Smiling, he introduced himself, then leaned in close so he could hear Cole’s name. “We’re glad you’re here, son. Go find yourself a seat. It’s just about time for services to start.”

  Cole entered the auditorium, hesitated in the back as he scanned the room. A young boy, probably close to two, swayed in rhythm to his song at the podium in front. He held a song book and enthusiastically sang until his mother scooped him up, kissed his forehead, and carried him to a seat a few rows back.

  Cole’s gaze lingered as he watched her hand over her still-singing boy, still clutching his song book, to a man whom Cole assumed was the boy’s father.

  Something inside Cole shifted as he watched the young family.

  Something that felt a lot like longing.

  That couldn’t be right, though. He’d never wanted that. Not really.

  Only, he couldn’t lie to himself, not inside a church, and say that he didn’t feel envy at the wholesome goodness and love he sensed surrounding the three.

  Then again, those emotions overwhelming him might have less to do with the young family—and a whole lot to do with the woman sitting in the pew in front of them.

  Sophie. Sweet, full-of-Christmas-sparkle Sophie.

  Of course, she would sit in the front of the church. In order to join her, he’d have to walk all the way down the aisle. Everyone would see him sit beside her. Ben would see. There would be no slinking into the back row and hoping no one noticed he was there, that no one realized he didn’t belong.

  Not that he thought anyone would ask him to leave. But wasn’t he scuffing up something clean and perfect just by being here?

  Eyeing the aisle that would take him to where Sophie sat, Cole swallowed. Logically, he knew the distance wasn’t more than forty or so feet, yet it felt miles away. Miles and miles that were laden with obstacles all along the way.

  Obstacles? Or emotional traps? Cole gulped back the bile rising in his throat.

  He should leave.

  He turned, planning to do just that, but when his eyes collided with the older greeter’s, he froze.

  “There’s several open seats to choose from, son. You’re welcome to sit anywhere you like.”

  Cole’s temples throbbed as he nodded awkwardly, berating himself for being a coward. Because why else would he have tucked tail and planned to run?

  He was there to attend church, then help decorate Christmas trees for the elderly at a nursing home of some sort. No big deal. He volunteered all the time via the firehall. This was similar.

  Just in the house of God.

  Maybe lightning wouldn’t strike him for daring to step inside the sanctuary.

  Then again, if it did, that would save him from having to go forward, from being embarrassed that he was there at Sophie’s bidding. Not to mention, the shame that he felt so unworthy.

  To be in church. To sit beside someone as good as Sophie.

  Sucking in a deep breath, Cole reminded himself that she had invited him, that she wanted him there, that when she looked at him, she saw someone worth inviting, someone she deemed worthy of spending time with, someone she frequently smiled at with so much warmth shining in her pretty hazel eyes.

  Her light called to him, warmed him, calmed his need to turn and leave. Just the thought of her smile gave him enough strength to forge forward.

  Like a ship lost at sea, he kept his gaze trained on the back of her head. Using her inner light as a beacon to guide him, he made his way to her pew without looking around to any of the other parishioners. He didn’t want to know who was there or wasn’t there.

  It didn’t matter. Sophie was right in front of him. Sophie was who mattered.

  Admitting that was scarier than being inside a church.

  When he stood beside her pew, she looked up. Upon seeing him, her entire face transformed with delight.

  “Cole,” she whispered, scooting closer to her sister to make room for him to sit down beside her.

  Relief filled him.

  It hadn’t been any altruistic motivations of helping others that had brought him to the church. Sure, he wanted to help others. Always had. But he was there because Sophie had asked him, because she wanted him there.

  Because whether he should or shouldn’t, he liked how her face had just lit up brighter than any Christmas tree they’d decora
te later that day when she’d seen him.

  She’d said he needed a Christmas tree. Did she have any idea she was his Christmas tree? That it was her that had already made this holiday season brighter and sweeter than any he could recall since early childhood?

  He liked that seeing him was what triggered the pleasure shining on her pretty face and made her look as if she was going to bubble over with happiness.

  He liked it much more than he should, as a man who’d sworn to never be in a serious relationship due to what lurked inside him.

  Only, where Sophie was concerned, “should” didn’t seem to be enough to keep him away.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You’re here,” Sophie whispered as Cole sat down next to her on the church pew. Pure joy filled her. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”

  “You asked me to be here,” he reminded, his gaze locked with hers. She could see the mix of uncertainty, embarrassment, and something more in his eyes.

  “I can’t leave those assisted living residents Christmas treeless,” he continued. “You’d never let me live that down.”

  “There is that, Santa Cole.” She grinned, automatically reaching to take his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Warmth filled her at the strength in his callused fingers and rather than let go, her gaze dropped to where she held his hand.

  It was one of the few times she’d intentionally touched him. She liked touching his hand.

  She also didn’t want to let go. Because holding Cole’s hand left her a bit in awe, as if she were holding a precious gift and should cling to it for as long as he’d let her.

  Her gaze lifted to his, perhaps asking silent permission, perhaps wondering if he felt that warmth coursing between them, too. Sophie wasn’t sure, so she waited for his response, for something letting her know that he was okay with holding her hand.