by Janice Lynn
“Had something to say.”
“And you hadn’t up to that point?” She glanced at her watch. “We’ve been picking up collection boxes for over an hour, and you’ve barely said two words.”
He shrugged.
“See. There you go again. Nonverbal.”
Not talking was easier and way less painful than getting pulled back into the fantasy that something had been happening between them. That something even could happen.
How could he have forgotten all the reasons why that was impossible? If nothing else, her talk about her father leaving should have been reminder enough. Instead, it had taken hearing her admit she was throwing a pity party for him to jar him out of his Sophie sunshine euphoria.
“Don’t be this way.” Her voice held such a pleading quality to it that Cole’s insides twisted.
“What way would you have me be?”
“The way you were when we were sledding, or playing the game at Sarah and Bodie’s. Or while we were at the On-the-Square Christmas festival, or while we were decorating the tree. Or—”
“Let me stop you,” he intervened. “I told you in the beginning that I wasn’t interested in being your friend.”
“I—Yes, you did say that,” she admitted, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and stubbornness. “But I thought…Why would you say that? I mean, who doesn’t want more friends?”
“Me—I don’t. The way things are now is how they need to stay.”
“Says who? Because that’s not what I think you need.”
No, she thought he needed her to make a big deal of his past and wrap him in one of her blankets.
“I don’t need your emotional charity, Sophie. I’m just fine.”
She looked shocked. “I never said you weren’t fine.”
“But you think it.”
“Obviously, you have no clue what I think.”
“I heard you say you wanted to give me one of your quilts.”
Her jaw dropped open a little. “That’s what this is about?”
“You read my journal and rather than be disgusted as you should have been, you felt sorry for me instead, probably because of your father. You’ve made me into a pet project who you want to fix. Thanks but no thanks, Sophie. I don’t need or want anything you have to offer.”
Sophie grew quiet, then said in the most even tone he’d heard her use, “I can’t undo that I read your journal, Cole.”
“I’m not asking you to.” Although if he had it to do over, he’d have destroyed the book so no one could have ever found and read it.
“Then what are you asking of me? Because I don’t understand.”
Cole drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel, wishing he could magically transport himself anywhere other than sitting next to Sophie and having this conversation. “Nothing.”
“But…I…” Her breath caught. “‘Nothing’ doesn’t work for me.”
“This isn’t just about you.”
“Exactly,” she agreed, her expression stubborn. “It’s about us.”
“There is no us.”
“There should be.”
He shook his head. He didn’t even want to hear her say such foolishness. She still thought he could be fixed, but he knew better. His darkness would overpower her goodness and dim her light forever. He wouldn’t allow that.
Sophie deserved better.
She said, “If you’d only—”
He shook his head again. “Let’s just get through collecting these toys and see what we still need, okay?”
“I…you’re not really giving me a choice, are you? Even though this isn’t what I want, you’re going to push me away?”
“No, and yes.” For her own good.
“Then fine, let’s get through collecting these toys. But just so you know, I don’t agree with you and think you’re making a big mistake, because I like you, Cole. I really like you. And not because you’re a ‘pet project’ or because I feel sorry for you, because I don’t.” Her gaze narrowed. “Or, at least, I didn’t. Now, I guess I do because you’re pushing me away and, say what you will, I’m good for you.”
That had never been in question. The issue was that he wasn’t good for her.
“Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” he couldn’t resist asking.
She lifted her chin. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong, Sophie,” he said without hesitation. He put the SUV into park in front of her shop, realizing only after he’d done so that he hadn’t gone to the last business on their list. He’d go by himself later. “Forget whatever it is you think you feel for me, because I’m not interested.”
“You were.”
Now that the car was parked, he held her gaze.
“I got distracted. I never should have let that happen. Not in my line of work.”
Making sure to keep the inner turmoil, the doubts he struggled with hidden, Cole ended what shouldn’t have began
“We aren’t friends. We never have been, and we never will be. The sooner you accept that, the better things will be for all involved, especially me.”
“He didn’t mean it,” Sophie assured Stitches through her open bedroom window.
The cat’s meow in return seemed to sound a little doubtful. Or maybe she was just projecting because, despite her brave claim, she worried that Cole had meant every word.
She’d seen how quickly those walls had gone up, had seen how thick they were, had seen his refusal to let her back in.
“He’s going to miss me,” she said out loud, although her brain’s version went more along the lines of how she was going to miss him.
She glanced over at the quilt she’d yet to finish, neatly folded on her dresser. The quilt she’d put so much appreciation and love into stitching long before she’d admitted she was making it for Cole.
The quilt he didn’t want.
“Meow.”
Sophie glanced up just in time to see the cat make the jump from the windowsill onto the foot of the bed.
“Oh wow,” she breathed softly, almost afraid to say anything, worried she’d scare her guest away. “This is an unexpected surprise.”
The cat meowed again, then, seeming content at the foot of her bed, lay down and watched her.
“Um, yeah, so am I supposed to not move now for the rest of the night for fear of scaring you off?”
Just as she’d scared Cole off.
“Seriously, he’s an ex-Marine. Nothing I do should scare the man,” she mumbled to herself, to the cat, to the wall.
This was pathetic. She was pathetic.
“I guess if it means you staying in here with me, listening to me pour my heart out, then I can do my best to lie here and work on these puzzles the way he never did. Why buy crossword puzzle books, then never do them? Tell me that.”
None of the ones she’d seen in his SUV had contained a single filled-in space.
The cat just blinked.
“Obviously, he can’t even commit to penciling in his answers.”
Sophie piddled with the crossword puzzle book for another ten minutes or so before sitting it on her dresser.
Cole might not be able to commit to even answering a crossword puzzle in print, but Sophie didn’t have that same fear.
Her fears went just as deeply as his, though. Her fear was caring about a man who could never let himself care back because of all the protective walls shielding his heart.
It wasn’t a new fear. When she was a child, it had been her father. Now, it was Cole.
Closing her eyes, she lay back on the bed and prayed Cole someday found peace and met someone he deemed worthy of tearing those walls down for.
Even if that person wasn’t meant to be her.
She’d be just fine. The past month with Cole had opened her eyes to a lot of things about herse
lf. She was strong enough to care for him. And strong enough to let him walk away if that was what he needed to do.
She’d be fine. It hurt, but she would be fine.
If only she could convince herself that he was doing the right thing when her heart insisted that he wasn’t.
“What’s up with you and Sophie?”
Not looking up from his crossword puzzle, Cole shrugged at Ben’s question. “Nothing, as far as I know.”
“You weren’t at church Sunday.”
Cole snorted. “I haven’t been at church a lot of Sundays.”
“You’ve been a pain lately,” Ben added.
“Who wouldn’t be, having to put up with all these questions?”
Ben shot him a serious look. “You don’t plan to see her again?”
“It’s a small town. I’m sure our paths will cross.”
“We’ve still got the ‘wrapping and delivering the presents’ party. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll forgive whatever your sorry self did.”
Cole shrugged. Sophie forgiving him wasn’t the issue. Never had been. From the beginning, she hadn’t judged him harshly. He’d prefer her anger and disgust over pity. Pity was the one thing he couldn’t deal with.
“You must have done something if you and Sophie are no longer a couple,” Ben pushed.
“We were never a couple.”
“Sorry, man.” Ben slapped him on the back. “I really thought she was the one for you.”
Andrew came back into the room, carrying an envelope that he handed to Cole. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
Andrew shrugged. “How would I know? Open it and see.”
Cole took the business-sized envelope, noted his name written in bold print across the front. No address, no return address, no postage. Just his name.
“Someone hand-delivered it?”
Andrew shrugged. “I guess. It was in the office, and I was asked to give it to you.”
Cole frowned. He’d seen Sophie’s flowy, curvy handwriting, and this wasn’t it.
Not that he had any reason to automatically assume it might be from Sophie…except that who else would send him mail at the firehall?
Aggravated with himself for the direction of his thoughts, he opened the envelope and pulled out two slips of paper.
One was a cashier’s check for more money than he made in a month. The other was a note that simply said, “Have fun shopping for the toy drive. Make the donations from the fire department.”
Stunned, Cole turned the check to where Ben and Andrew could see.
“I know you want to beat us, but come on man, a cashier’s check made out to you?”
“I didn’t do this,” Cole assured, racking his brain to decipher who had.
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “Who do you know that we don’t know?”
“Do you recognize the handwriting?” Ben asked.
Cole shook his head. “Why would anyone send this to me rather than directly to the committee?”
“Maybe they heard how you rallied our crew to pitch in money to buy the items still needed, so when they decided to donate to the cause, they thought you’d be the best one to handle it,” Ben suggested.
Andrew crossed his arms, pretending to be annoyed. “Whoever it is wanted you and Sophie to win our competition. Don’t think I’m not grateful for the donation, but I’m not amused it was sent to you.”
Cole snorted. “I don’t know anyone with this kind of money.”
Andrew shrugged. “It seems that they know you.”
“Apparently.”
“You may need help spending all that and getting the gifts to the church tomorrow evening.” Ben’s smile was wide. “You want some shopping buddies?”
“Why not?” His brain was racing. The check was a lot of money. He wanted to spend it wisely but wasn’t sure what was needed. Who would know?
Sophie.
No. He…he just couldn’t.
Maybelle Kirby. She was head of the committee. She’d know what was needed.
He glanced down at the check in his hand, wondering…no, it wouldn’t make sense for Maybelle to have been the person who sent the check.
But she’d be able to let him know what was needed, might even have a list of the Triple B kids’ genders and ages and wish lists—or at least be able to get one to him in a hurry.
“Looks like we’re shopping.” He glanced at the figure on the check and shook his head in disbelief. “Lots of shopping.”
Ben rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be fun.”
Ben was right. But what Cole looked forward to most was seeing Sophie’s look of surprise when he and the guys walked in tomorrow laden down with toys.
Or maybe, right or wrong, he most looked forward to seeing Sophie, period.
“Can you hand me a piece of tape?”
Without looking up at Maybelle, Sophie tore off a piece of tape and handed it to the older woman. “Here you go.”
Volunteers were lined up, wrapping and sorting presents that would be delivered on Christmas Eve. They’d ended up with enough donations for the original requests.
But not enough to meet the needs of the Triple B Ranch for Kids.
After Rosie and Sophie had a long heart-to-heart, Rosie had contacted Triple B earlier in the week to let them know that they would be delivering presents, but not as many as they’d hoped. Still, they’d make sure each child had something to open.
“So many children who are going to be so excited on Christmas morning,” Ruby said, finishing with the package she held. “It’s going to be so wonderful.
“Agreed,” Aunt Claudia added. “Almost as wonderful as the trip I’ll be taking come January. We’re headed to Greece, you know.”
“We all know because you won’t be quiet about it,” Rosie said, rolling her eyes. “How about you find something different to talk about? Like Sarah and Bodie’s honeymoon.”
“Ha. If you had any sense about you, we’d be discussing where you and Lou are going on your honeymoon,” Maybelle said drily.
Ruby looked up from where she was wrapping a gift. “Any luck on getting a location out of either of the happy couple?”
“I have Sheriff Roscoe on it,” Maybelle assured. “But so far, he says Bodie isn’t talking.”
“I can hear you,” Sarah called from a nearby table where she placed wrapped gifts into large plastic bags labeled with each child’s name and address.
“We know, child,” Rosie assured. “We’re hoping if you hear us bring it up enough, you’ll feel bad and tell us.”
Sarah gave her friends an amused look. “I don’t know where we’re going, so you won’t be getting any information from me.”
Sophie smothered a smile.
“And good luck on getting a clue from Bodie,” Sarah told them. “His lips are sealed, and not even the Butterflies can get him to crack, because as much as he loves you all, he doesn’t want you accompanying us on our honeymoon.”
Maybelle harrumphed. Rosie snorted. Ruby just smiled. Aunt Claudia was still talking about her upcoming trip to Greece even though no one was really listening.
“Is this everything?” Maybelle asked when she picked up the last toy. “We’ve still got the foster kids from Triple B Ranch. We’ve not crossed any of them off our list.”
Sophie’s stomach plummeted. Rather than divvy up the gifts they had, leading to them being more thinly spread, Sophie had decided to proceed as normal, then see what was still needed. She’d hoped more toys would come in, that her estimates would prove to be much lower than the reality and there would be plenty for all.
With a sinking heart and her eyes threatening to spill tears, Sophie stepped forward, then paused. No, she wasn’t giving up. She wouldn’t let those kids not have a Christmas. No way.
> “Not yet, but we’re working on more last-minute donations.” She would get them, too. Even if it meant going to every business in town and begging for additional contributions. Plus, she’d raffle off one of her quilts. She’d find a way. “No worries, Maybelle. Every child will have a gift and—”
The church community door opened and Cole, Andrew, Ben, and several other firemen came in carrying boxes and bags.
Huge, overflowing boxes and bags.
“What’s all this?” Sophie asked, her eyes still blurry with unshed tears, but her gaze not able to leave Cole.
She hadn’t seen him since they’d collected the last boxes and he’d told her he didn’t want to be her friend. Again.
Her stomach twisted at the memory.
Oh, how she’d missed this man who had come to mean so much to her so quickly.
And oh, how amazing he looked in his uniform as he said, “The rest of the donations.”
“These were at the firehall?” Sophie asked, stunned. Where had Cole and the crew gotten all the gifts?
“They’re from the fire department,” Andrew clarified. “There was a flurry of new items right at the end, thanks to a friendly rivalry on getting donations.”
Sophie fought choking up with emotion. The guys had bought these? Thank goodness Cole had tossed out that challenge, then. She wanted to hug them all.
“Perfect,” Maybelle praised, never having looked overly worried.
“This is wonderful,” Rosie clasped her hands together. “There’s more than enough for all the Triple B Ranch kids.”
“With extras in case we have last minute requests.” Ruby beamed at her grandson.
Sophie’s gaze stayed on Cole. He hadn’t looked her way, but she knew he was aware of her, was aware that she was watching him, that she couldn’t pull her eyes from him.
Seeing him was almost as wonderful as seeing the gifts they’d brought in.
Eventually, he met her gaze. Sophie smiled, holding her breath in hopes he’d smile back.
He gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, then looked away.
No. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t push her away.
She stopped what she was doing, marched over to where he stood with the other firemen and wrapped her arms around him.