by Janice Lynn
“Keeping me off the ladder. He’s afraid I’ll almost fall again, and he’ll have to catch me. Again. Over just a little to the left, Cole,” Sophie informed, her attention tuned to what he was doing. “Oh, that’s perfect! You’re an expert tree topper, Cole Aaron. Don’t you think so, Isabelle?”
Isabelle sighed, “I’m headed back to the foyer. If you want to be in the group photos, gather up your leftover decorations and come join us.”
“She doesn’t like me much.”
Fighting frustration at her sister’s untimely interruption, Sophie shrugged at Cole’s comment, wondering where to start in explaining Isabelle’s attitude toward him.
Wondering also if she should comment on the almost-kiss, ask him what he’d been thinking, feeling.
She knew what she’d seen shining in those pale eyes.
Eyes she’d once thought of as an icy blue.
They weren’t.
There had been nothing cold about the eyes she’d stared into as he’d caressed her face. They’d been blue fire scorching her insides and flaming her confidence to kiss him. Now, that confidence was gone and looking at him, she wasn’t sure of anything except that his expression was full of regrets.
Oh, Isabelle. Why did you have to interrupt at that precise moment?
“It’s not you,” she began, searching for words to make him understand what she’d never fully understood herself.
Cole snorted. “Maybe you missed it a few minutes ago, but it’s definitely me she doesn’t like.”
“I should have said that it’s about much more than you, personally.” Sophie started over, glancing around the empty dining area. She felt torn, as if she was betraying a secret, but she also felt obligated to attempt to make Cole understand. She didn’t want him judging Isabelle unfairly or making assumptions about her behavior. “Isabelle respects military personnel, past and present. She’s appreciative of all of you, but she doesn’t trust letting any of you get close—to her and most especially to me.”
The confusion on Cole’s face said he didn’t understand. No wonder. She was completely botching her explanation. Taking a deep breath, she went for broke, trying to explain in the most direct way she knew how.
Even if that way hurt.
“My father was in the Army. When we were little, he was gone more than he was home. When I was six, he left and never came back.” She sucked in a deep breath to make up for the lack of breathing while rushing through her explanation.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Sophie winced. “I…Cole, this isn’t easy to talk about. He wasn’t lost in action—at least, not on a battlefield that anyone could see. He was fighting a battle inside his own head that we couldn’t help him with. He left, filed for divorce, and disappeared from our lives. Because of him, Isabelle isn’t keen on having personal relationships with past or present military. And because she’s my big sister and thinks she’s in charge of me, she doesn’t want them for me, either.”
If anyone could understand, Cole would probably be the closest, thanks to what he’d gone through.
His confused expression deepened. “But you’re both involved in your quilts for soldiers organization, aren’t you?”
“Quilts of Valor Foundation,” Sophie corrected. “Isabelle supports me and my work with them because she knows how important it is to me, but she’s never made or donated a quilt to the foundation,” she admitted, sadness hitting her anew at her sister’s resistance to the idea. Sophie firmly believed her sister would find healing in the making of a quilt and wrapping a soldier in it. Believing that was easy, but convincing Isabelle to ever do so seemed an impossible task. “She doesn’t do the sew-ins or that type of thing, but she’s okay with the shop supporting the foundation. We always have at least one sample quilt on display, along with pre-made kits, and information available. Well, you know that,” she laughed a little nervously, “you helped bring the quilts back from the festival booth.”
“I remember. I could see the patriotic fabric display in my head while you were talking.”
“Really?” Part of her wanted to ask what he thought of the display—wanted to talk to him about anything other than her father, and the impact his leaving had had on her and Isabelle. But this conversation needed to be had. Because she wanted him to understand why Isabelle was so distrusting. Mostly, she didn’t want him to not like her sister. That he liked Isabelle was important. “My sister doesn’t mean any harm. She just…”
“Doesn’t trust any military person to stick around because your father left.”
Sophie hated talking about Isabelle’s hang-ups or her father’s choices. Some things just felt as if they were supposed to be kept private. The Davis women always kept quiet about their lives even prior to Cliff Davis’s abandonment.
Talking about him now felt like opening doors that had been kept shut a long time because scary things lurked on the other side.
Finally, she said, “He never wanted to hurt us. That’s why he left, so he wouldn’t. Isabelle has never forgiven him.”
“Have you?”
“Isabelle took his leaving harder than me. Probably because I was younger and had her and Mom showering me with love, making sure I never felt abandoned. Whereas I want to offer every soldier comfort and healing, she sees them all as extensions of Dad.” Sophie sighed. “Any lingering anger I may have had toward him disappeared when I read your journal.”
Sophie glanced around the dining hall, feeling that the space was much too open to be having this conversation.
Sophie took a deep breath, shook off her melancholy, and pasted on a smile. “Help me carry these boxes, please, so we can go join the others. We wouldn’t want to miss being in the group pics.”
“Yep, wouldn’t want to miss that.” His tone implied otherwise.
His phone rang just as they entered the main lobby where the others were gathered. Pulling it out, he glanced down at the number, then excused himself to go outside to take the call.
Sophie watched as he paced the sidewalk, talking to whomever was on the other end of the line.
During all the times they’d been together, he’d never gotten a call or taken a message, she realized, wondering who the caller was.
“He’s cute, Sophie,” one of the other volunteers praised as they packed up the Christmas decoration boxes into a plastic bin they’d tuck out of the way until it was time to repack everything after New Year’s.
Cute. Bleh. Dragging her gaze away from the window, Sophie shrugged and wished her friends would come up with a better way of describing Cole. She wasn’t going to call him cute when to do so felt as if it would be an insult rather than compliment. Cute was for bunny rabbits and puppies. Cole was…Cole.
“A bit quiet, perhaps, but definitely cute,” the volunteer continued. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“We’re just friends,” she said, not sure if that was true. Were they friends? More than friends? She’d almost kissed him.
“Seriously? Y’all were so fun sledding, and then when I saw him show up at church and come sit right next to you, I thought the two of you must be an item. I was like ‘Go you, Sophie Davis.’”
Sophie smiled at her friend’s encouragement but wasn’t sure what to tell Laura, wasn’t sure what Cole would want her to say. Something wonderful was happening between them, but she didn’t fool herself into thinking that she knew how to label it. If he believed he wasn’t good for her, would he ever really embrace a relationship between them?
The answer wasn’t one she wanted to acknowledge.
“He’s new in town,” she commented, knowing her friend was waiting on her to say something. Cole had been in Pine Hill less than a year. That counted as new, right? “He doesn’t know a lot of people. I thought it would be nice for him to come to church and meet all of you today. You know, get involved in the community a
nd make friends.” She tried to look casual, as if their conversation wasn’t a big deal. She didn’t want to trigger a lot of gossip. Any discussion about their relationship should first occur between her and Cole. Only, she’d seen Cole’s face after Isabelle interrupted. His regret at what had almost happened had been obvious.
“That’s great.” Laura sounded genuinely pleased by Sophie’s answer, then asked, “You’re sure there’s nothing more to it? You looked so happy to see him when he sat down beside you this morning.”
How many people had zeroed in on her reaction to Cole joining her at church?
“I was happy he came to church. He told me hasn’t been in a while.” Ecstatic. “Shouldn’t we all have been glad he was there?” She gave her friend a pointed look. “Seriously, he’s a bit of a loner, so I was pleased that he came this morning.”
Isabelle had been listening with interest. Sophie had been all too aware of that fact, so she wasn’t surprised when her sister joined the conversation.
“Sophie’s interest in Cole stems from the fact that she feels sorry for him because of what he went through during his military career.” Isabelle’s tone brooked no argument. “You know how she is about wanting to wrap every soldier in one of her quilts.”
Sophie frowned at her sister. She didn’t feel sorry for Cole. Hearing her sister say that she did just didn’t ring true.
“I do feel badly for what he’s been through,” she began, meaning to continue explaining from there—that she was saddened by all the hardships he’d faced, yet that she admired his strength and resilience—but Laura interrupted when she paused to collect her thoughts.
“You gave him a quilt?” Laura sounded impressed. “That’s great. I love all the charity projects you do. I just don’t know where you find the time, though.”
“Um, no, I haven’t given a quilt to Cole.” Sophie didn’t point out that people made time for the things in life that were most important to them. For Sophie that was family, church, work, and Quilts of Valor. “Not yet. I hope to award him a quilt someday. He needs one so badly but doesn’t think he does because he doesn’t really understand what it is we do, how our quilts heal. He doesn’t believe he deserves to be wrapped.”
Because Cole didn’t believe he deserved anything good. He might not have said the words out loud, but she was sure they were true.
He thought he was no good for her. He was wrong about that, too.
“I just have to convince him to let me award him one.” She sighed, then resolved herself. “I’m working on convincing him, slowly but surely. Someday, I will give him one and he will feel better.”
A quilt with prayers set into every stitch she’d sewn. The quilt she’d designed and was making currently. A quilt she was making specifically for him, even if she was just now truly admitting it to herself.
As she sewed, her head, and her heart were filled with thoughts of Cole and how the material would soon wrap him in a forever hug.
“That’s wonderful,” Laura said, placing the last of the ornament boxes into the bin. “I’m sure he appreciates all you’re doing to help him get acclimated to Pine Hill. If you truly aren’t interested in more than friendship, send him my way.”
Still distracted by her thoughts, it took a minute before Laura’s comment sank in. When it did, Sophie fought to keep from frowning at her friend.
Um, no. That wouldn’t be happening. Laura was a great person, but Sophie wouldn’t be sending Cole in any direction that involved another woman.
Because the thought made her a little crazy.
A lot crazy. Crazy jealous.
Because she thought Cole belonged to her? He didn’t. Not even close.
And yet, she had almost kissed him. And he had almost let her.
Their almost-kiss had been more special than the few real kisses she’d experienced, although, to be fair, those few instances hadn’t been anything spectacular.
Would Cole’s kiss have been spectacular?
Sophie thought so. Knew so. Cole was spectacular. She didn’t want to share him with Laura. Or anyone.
Realizing she was staring off into space, daydreaming, Sophie reined in her thoughts and her gaze. Unfortunately, the latter landed on her sister.
Isabelle eyed her suspiciously, as if she’d read every thought that had popped into Sophie’s mind.
Heat flooded her cheeks, because they both knew that no matter how much Isabelle protested, no matter how much either of them said otherwise, Sophie was hooked on Cole Aaron.
Isabelle opened her mouth, but whatever she’d been going to say was forever lost as her gaze flickered behind Sophie. Without looking, Sophie knew Cole had come back into the room.
Wondering who his call had been from, happy he was back, Sophie turned, smiling and planning to make sure he knew she was glad he was there.
The chill from his time outside had his cheeks and nose a bit pink, but those indications of the cold didn’t compare to the frosty edge to his pale blue gaze.
Sophie’s smile faded. “Everything okay?”
Chapter Sixteen
Cole had overheard everything—all about how he was Sophie’s latest charity project.
He’d known.
From the beginning, when she’d shown compassion and pity rather than disgust after reading his journal, he’d known.
He’d also known better than to let his emotions get all tangled up with an impulsive, do-gooder, church-going, got-to-fix-the-world, bright-eyed, big-hearted small town girl. Yet that’s exactly what he’d done.
“Cole?” She stared at him with those hazel eyes that threatened to pull him in.
Good thing he’d gotten splashed with a bucket of frigid reality.
“That was the fire hall. I’ve got to go.”
Sophie’s disappointment was palpable as she searched his face. “Oh. Okay. Can you stay for the group photo?”
Was she kidding? He hadn’t wanted to do the group photo even before he’d gotten the call asking if he’d cover for someone needing to go home.
Before he’d overheard a conversation confirming what he’d known but had let himself ignore, wanting to enjoy the moment because he’d gotten sucked into Sophie’s the-world-is-a-happy-snow-globe bubble.
No more.
“No, of course not,” she corrected herself before he could answer. “You’ve got to go.”
Everyone in the room seemed to be watching them as if his leaving were some drama playing out. Perhaps it was. Because whatever insanity had possessed him to go to church with Sophie, to think maybe they could be friends, was gone.
She wanted to wrap him in a quilt because she thought it would fix him. But there was nothing that could fix him—and if that was all she was after, then they might as well end things between them now. Without another word, because none were necessary, Cole tipped his head a little in acknowledgement, then turned to go.
Once outside the assisted living facility, he sucked in a deep breath of air, the cold hitting his lungs hard. He blew out slowly as he made his way to his Jeep.
What a fool he’d been.
“Cole!”
As he was opening the door, she rushed up to his SUV.
Why didn’t it surprise him Sophie had followed him outside? It was just the kind of impulsive thing she’d do despite the fact everyone, including her sister, was probably watching them through the windows.
Hand on the handle, he paused.
“Please be careful.”
Careful? Did she think he was headed out on a call?
“Always.”
She stared at him, her eyes begging him to say something, to acknowledge things he never would.
“I’m glad. I—”
“I’ve got to go,” he interrupted, knowing it was true for so many reasons.
Sophie swallowed, nodded, then steppe
d back from his vehicle.
A thousand things he could say hit him, but he held his tongue.
Some things were better left unsaid.
“You have to talk to me at some point,” Sophie insisted the following day, from the passenger seat of Cole’s truck.
Cole had been doing his best to keep his eyes on the road and not on where she fidgeted with her seatbelt. She’d chatted non-stop from the moment he picked her up at her shop, smiling and acting as if nothing had happened at the nursing home. Nothing had. “It’s making for a long trip with you not talking.”
Should he point out that they were almost finished collecting the boxes and their Christmas charity ‘partnership’ was coming to an end? Just one more business, then he’d drop her back off, and he’d take the toys they’d collected to the church. Alone.
The toys, along with the funds donated by the fire department crew. Cole wasn’t sure how much was needed, but the crew had come through generously. Hopefully, it would be enough to cover gifts for the kids at the Triple B Ranch.
Maybe it wouldn’t be as much as what Sophie had mentioned they usually did for the kids, but each kid could get a gift, surely.
He’d thought about canceling this last toy collection pickup with her, but each time he’d told himself he’d see this through. Initially, he’d approached the toy drive as a mission. One where he did his job, and then he walked away. He was back to seeing it that way again—and now, it was a mission that was nearly complete. After today, the toy drive would be over, other than wrapping and distribution. He shouldn’t have reason to be alone with Sophie again.
“Cole, talk to me.”
“You seem to be doing just fine by yourself,” he pointed out. She had talked enough for the both of them, chatting about anything and everything as if nothing was wrong until she’d apparently had enough of his silence.
“Ah-ha. You said something. Finally.” Her face took on a proud look as if she’d accomplished some grand feat in pulling the words from him.