by Janice Lynn
The feel of the place spoke of times long gone; simpler times when life was good and dark shadows didn’t haunt him.
“Mrs. Harvey’s soup is the best I’ve had,” he continued. Realizing how Sarah might take his comment, he added, “No offense to your own cooking, of course.”
“Of course,” she mimicked, a smile toying on her lips that he recognized from when they’d been painting and she’d dabbed him with paint. Sarah liked to tease him.
Bodie didn’t mind. Sarah was…fun.
In a different time, a different world…no, he wouldn’t go there, either. Just because he was inside a cozy country barn straight off a Christmas card didn’t mean anything had changed. Not really.
She might have called the tree farm enchanted, but there were some things no amount of Christmas magic could fix. His messed-up head and body being two of them.
“You should consider serving Mrs. Harvey’s soup to your customers at Hamilton House.”
“Her peanut butter fudge isn’t bad, either.” Sarah took a bite to prove her point. “Mmmmm.”
Watching her eat one of the candies she’d insisted they had to have, Bodie smiled. If a person was what he or she ate, it was no wonder Sarah was so sweet. The woman loved desserts.
“You sure you don’t want a bite?” she offered, holding a piece out to him.
He nodded. “I’m sure.”
“You shouldn’t be.” She tsked. “You just admitted that I was right about the soup. I think you should trust me on this and at least have a taste of peanut butter fudge.”
Sarah might be sweet as sugar, but she was also as stubborn as a mule.
“One bite, then.”
She rewarded him with a smile and a piece of fudge. “You won’t regret this. It’s delicious.”
The fudge stuck to her fingers when Bodie attempted to take the bite from her fingers.
“Here,” she offered, holding the bite up to his mouth, but Bodie managed to get most of the fudge in his grasp and popped the candy into his mouth.
The sweet peanut butter flavor practically melted in his mouth, but even though the fudge was good, Bodie thought Sarah had Mrs. Harvey beat. He preferred Sarah’s oatmeal chocolate chip cookies any day.
He started to tell her so but noticed a flurry of green outside the window.
“Aren’t those the moths?”
“Butterflies,” Sarah corrected, frowning at the ladies in the window. “Nosy Butterflies.”
Seeing that they’d been spotted, the three women waved, then came into the building. Harry lifted his head, eyed the trio, then laid his head back down on his front paws. His gaze never left them, though, as they made their way to where Bodie and Sarah sat.
“Brrrr, it’s nippy out there.”
“Nothing a little hot chocolate won’t cure.”
“Didn’t you already have hot cocoa?” Sarah reminded, her gaze going back and forth between the women.
“On our way back up here, we found my tree and had to make arrangements for it. That sweet boy of Carrie’s who works here offered to deliver it when he finishes his shift,” Maybelle pointed out. “Now we’re cold and need a round to warm us up.”
“There’s not an empty table,” Rosie stated the obvious, giving Sarah and Bodie an expectant look since there were empty chairs at their table.
Wincing at how painfully obvious her friends were, Sarah met Bodie’s gaze. Her eyes were full of pleading that he’d understand and not judge the women too harshly.
In all actuality, he found them entertaining, if a bit annoying. And he admired their dedication to Sarah. How many women out there had people who cared so much about them that they’d go out in such ridiculous get-ups? He’d venture to guess not many.
Sarah gave him an apologetic look, as if she expected him to be furious. That surprised him. Did she have any idea how often he spotted one of them around town? If he was going to get angry, surely she knew it would have already happened by now.
Leaning back in his chair to more fully eye them, he asked, “Maybe you’d like to sit at our table?”
All three women nodded their approval. As they began peeling off green layers, Bodie stood and helped them with their coats, putting the hideous combinations on the chair backs.
When they’d finished unloading their outerwear and had headed to the counter to order, Sarah sighed.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.” He’d been interrogated by worse.
“See if you’re still saying that by the time they’re through with us. They don’t understand the concept of subtle.”
No. That much was obvious.
“What exactly is it they’re doing?”
She shrugged. “Spying. Matchmaking. Who knows what all they’re up to?”
The spying, Bodie was fully aware of. The blue-haired one had even pretended to be out running one morning, complete in a purple velour jogging suit. He’d managed to evade having to say more than a quick hello to her by keeping his head down and his headphones cranked up.
He understood why they’d want to know more about a man who was spending so much time at Sarah’s home alone with her. The matchmaking, though… that one had him puzzled. Why would the women who obviously cared for Sarah try to match her with a stranger who wouldn’t be in town long?
“Why are they matchmaking?”
“Because I’m twenty-five and single, and they believe it their duty to marry me off to the first willing man in Pine Hill.” Realizing how he might take her words, Sarah’s cheeks flushed as brightly red as Mrs. Harvey’s apron.
Bodie tried to think of something to say that might ease her embarrassment, but what? Her friends were wasting their time if him settling down with Sarah was their hope. Bodie wasn’t the sticking-around-in-one-place type, much less the marrying kind.
For that matter, he wasn’t marriage material. Certainly not for Sarah, who deserved so much better.
“That’s not what I meant,” she attempted to clarify, her face growing more flushed. “I, you, I mean—”
“It’s okay.” He knew what she had meant and he would have said more but the blue-haired butterfly rejoined them.
Rosie leaned over to give Sarah a hug before sitting down in the chair next to Bodie. “Did you get that gorgeous tree you were looking at?”
Fortunately for Sarah, the Butterflies joining her and Bodie was the perfect distraction from her blunder. She and Bodie both knew he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Neither was she. They’d only met a couple weeks ago.
Not to mention that Bodie planned to leave Pine Hill as soon as he finished her job. She held no false hopes that he might want to stay. Boring Richard hadn’t wanted to stay. Why would someone as travel-seasoned as Bodie want to stick around?
“Mr. Lewis,” Maybelle greeted as she returned to the table with her order, her blue eyes studying him as she sat down.
Bodie didn’t look the slightest bit intimidated by Maybelle’s stare. Leaned back in his chair, he held her gaze. “Maybelle.”
“I see you got my name right this time,” she said drily, as she arranged the items on her food tray.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m a quick learner.”
He made his claim with a smile that made an approaching Claudia exclaim, “Look! He really is a quick learner.”
“Or our Sarah is a good teacher,” Maybelle countered, her tone still dry, as if she wasn’t willing to give Bodie more credit than he deserved.
“Smiling never looked so good,” Rosie said with an appreciative sigh.
The Butterflies had bought a half dozen cookies and a cup of coffee apiece.
Bodie’s gaze shifted to Sarah questioningly.
Eyeing all three women innocently taking sips of their coffee in sync, Sarah shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”
&
nbsp; He also probably didn’t want to know all the things he’d learn over the next several minutes.
Why Rosie and Claudia felt it necessary to tell him all about her was beyond Sarah. Once he’d flashed his smile a few more times, they had warmed up and were now recounting tales from her childhood she’d just as soon they kept to themselves.
Maybelle, on the other hand, sipped her coffee and watched him with suspicion.
“Then there was the time she decided she was going to take up a special collection for the Johnson family after their house burned down,” Claudia told him, sounding very much like a proud family member. “Right in the middle of church services she walked up to the front and told the congregation about the little girl in her class whose house had burned. She insisted the family needed our help.”
“She borrowed my handbag, dumped its entire contents on the pew, and passed it around for collection for the family,” Rosie added, laughing at the memory.
“Never seen Rosie move as fast as she did that day, trying to keep prying eyes from taking note of her belongings,” Claudia said, laughing at the memory. “Doubt those church pews had ever seen the likes of some of the items in her bag.”
Sarah met Bodie’s gaze and gave a little shrug. “Bethany Johnson was my best friend. I had to do something to help her even if it did get me grounded.”
“You were grounded?” Bodie asked, looking amused at the story.
Grateful he wasn’t bored, Sarah nodded. “It’s not a good idea to interrupt the preacher during sermon, especially when he’s your dad.”
“Don’t let her fool you. She has William wrapped around her finger and always has,” Maybelle assured, her voice clearly trying to sound disapproving, though her gaze was indulgent when she glanced toward Sarah.
Sarah smiled. Her father loved her and had always provided for her every need. Yes, he’d often leaned on Aunt Jean and the women surrounding her, but raising a daughter alone couldn’t have been easy for him. She’d never begrudge him accepting the help they offered as she cherished those times.
Just as she cherished the women embarrassing her with their tales.
When they started in with another story, she shook her head, but let them run with it. It wasn’t as if she could stop them if she’d tried.
She’d heard their stories before, but while listening to them, she realized she didn’t recall their having told them to Richard or any of her past boyfriends. She marveled that they’d opened up so quickly to Bodie. Without even trying, Bodie had them eating out of his hand.
Well, two of the three. Maybelle seemed intent upon withholding her approval.
When an attendant came in to say her tree was ready, a round of disappointment sounded.
“So soon?” Rosie pouted as Sarah and Bodie stood to leave the table.
Bodie pulled his coat off the back of his chair and began putting it on. “Got to help Sarah get this tree in the house and then get back to work. Nice running into you here.”
As Sarah went to slip her arms into her jacket, Bodie came over to help her.
“Yeah, nice running into you here,” Sarah repeated as she zipped her jacket. She met each of the Butterflies’ innocent-appearing gazes. “Such a coincidence that we bumped into each other.”
Maybelle picked up her coffee, brought it to her lips, said, “Isn’t it, though?” then took a sip.
When Bodie’s back was to them, Sarah made a gesture to show she was keeping her eyes on them, too.
All three women laughed.
Thanks to the help of a neighbor, Bodie got Sarah’s “perfect” tree inside Hamilton House. No way could he and Sarah have gotten the tree out of his truck and inside without additional help. He’d mentioned as much to Sarah at Harvey Farms, but, smiling, she’d said they’d figure something out.
She’d given him the biggest grin when the neighbor had pulled in right across the street. When she’d asked for his help, “Robert” had about fallen all over himself doing her bidding and had produced a furniture dolly that had been a godsend.
“You sure this is where you want the tree?” Bodie asked while Robert and his furniture dolly were still there.
Big brown eyes full of question, Sarah looked at him. “You don’t think it looks good here?”
What could Bodie say? It was a tree. It belonged outdoors.
“Looks great, Sarah,” Robert said, looking at Sarah with googly eyes. She’d said they’d gone to school together. Had there once been more than friendship between them?
But that wasn’t any of Bodie’s business.
“My aunt always put her tree here because you can see the lights from outside thanks to the big window,” Sarah continued, her gaze going back and forth between Robert and Bodie. “Where do you think we should put it?”
Bodie glanced around the room. Near the window was the only place the tree could go without doing major furniture shuffling.
“I think this spot does it.”
The tree actually had him feeling a little anxious. What would it be like seeing the tree every day, a constant reminder of what had almost happened at the Christmas tree farm before her friend had interrupted?
What was he thinking? Nothing had happened at the Christmas tree farm. They had picked out a tree that a salesperson had helped load into his truck. They’d had soup and fudge at Mrs. Harvey’s kitchen, followed by some chatting with her friends, and then they’d come back home. End of story.
Not that Hamilton House was home. Or that he thought of Pine Hill as home. He didn’t.
What he did think was that he needed to get back to work.
While Sarah was seeing Robert out, Bodie made sure the tree was secure. He couldn’t have it toppling over on her. Once he was certain it was steady, he straightened, annoyed at the pain that shot to his hip. Without thought—and quite stupidly, since Sarah could walk back in at any moment—he rubbed the area.
“Did you hurt yourself?”
Bodie turned towards the door and saw Harry and Sarah standing there. “Robert gone?”
“He is.” Her eyes were full of concern. “You didn’t answer my question. Did you hurt yourself carrying in the tree?”
Great. He couldn’t have her worried that she’d caused him pain. He shook his head. “It’s nothing more than an old injury.”
“From your time in the service?”
Although he’d rather not go there, he wasn’t going to lie to her, so he nodded.
“How old?”
This was what he got for giving in to the pain, for rubbing the area that was hurting. He should have known better.
“Is your injury why you’re not in the military anymore?”
Her voice was so gentle, so full of empathy, that he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t deserve her empathy and he sure didn’t want her pity.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
She sighed, but rather than push, she put her hands on her hips. “Okay, fine. We won’t talk about your hip injury. Or your time in the military. Or anything else you don’t want to talk about.”
“Good.”
Her expression said she didn’t agree. Shifting her gaze, she looked at the tree and her eyes took on some of their usual light.
“It really is a beautiful tree.”
As it got her to change the subject, Bodie was happy to agree. “Best tree ever.”
Surprised by his comment, she turned, smiled, then took on that eager-for-life, full-of-energy expression she usually had. The expression of a dreamer. “It’s going to look even better when we get through decorating.”
We? There was no “we” decorating her tree.
“I should get back to the bathrooms now. Those vanities aren’t going to install themselves.”
Frustration shone on her face. “You don’t want to decorate the tree?”
“Not particularly.”
“Okay. Back to the vanities.” She sighed. “If that’s what you want.”
Hating that he’d yet again dimmed that dreamer light in her eyes, Bodie headed toward the bathroom.
Sarah had decorated a tree with Aunt Jean for many years. But because of the grand opening, she’d chosen a tree that was much larger and grander than any tree she could remember ever being at Hamilton House.
Then again, maybe her choice hadn’t been because of the opening, but because of how happy she’d been that Bodie had gone with her to pick out the tree.
Despite the almost-kiss, their moment of awkward conversation, and the Butterflies’ persistence, she really had had a great day with him.
Right up until she’d asked him about his leg, and he’d clammed up.
She’d noticed his leg bothering him before, a slight hesitation sometimes when he first stood, but she’d never mentioned it. She knew whatever had happened to him, whatever caused his pain, was why he was no longer in the military.
It wasn’t that he didn’t still want to be a soldier. It was that he couldn’t be.
Why hadn’t he told her what had happened? Maybe he had been on some top-secret mission he couldn’t talk about. More likely, Bodie didn’t like talking about anything personal.
Regardless, that something had wounded him so irreversibly triggered an ache deep in her chest. The thought that he had been hurt, possibly seriously…that he could’ve died, and she wouldn’t have even known…had her taking a deep breath.
As she went outside to get the small stepladder out of the small storage shed, Harry at her side, she contemplated how much she actually knew about Bodie.
Or more accurately, how little she knew about him.
If she wanted to know more all she had to do was mention it to the Butterflies. They’d no doubt be happy to hand her a whole dossier on him, probably with color-coded tabs.
But Sarah didn’t want the Butterflies to tell her more about Bodie. She wanted Bodie to tell her. She wanted him to want her to know who he was, what made him tick, his likes, his dislikes.