Wrapped Up In Christmas

Bodie’s phone vibrated and, shifting Harry around until he could reach his pocket, he pulled the phone out.

Merry Christmas.

The same fluttery feeling he got anytime he thought of Sarah filled him. He hadn’t expected to hear from her, to have any contact with her ever again. That she’d reached out to tell him “Merry Christmas” fit, though. Sarah wanted everyone to have a good Christmas. It was just who she was.

“Everything okay?” Lukas asked when Bodie remained quiet, staring at his phone.

He glanced up at his friend and nodded. “Fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Lukas pointed out. “That from Kentucky?”

Bodie glanced at his friend. “Since when did being my boss give you rights to my private life?”

“Since when did you have a private life?”

Since he’d gone to thank an elderly lady for his quilt and met a young, beautiful woman who lived to serve others. A woman who smiled and lit up a room. A woman who smiled and lit up him.

Wondering what had happened to the exhaustion he’d felt moments before, Bodie stared at the message, started to type back a message, then hesitated.

He shouldn’t text her, shouldn’t encourage her to remember him.

The sooner they both forgot what they’d shared, the better.

Only, he didn’t want Sarah to forget him. Not ever.

Chapter Seventeen

“Not that I expected otherwise, but it looks like today is going to be a big success.”

Sarah clasped her hands together and smiled at Maybelle. “It does, doesn’t it? Let’s just hope people actually come by.”

She’d been so nervous all morning. She’d stayed the night at her father’s but left early to get everything just so prior to time for guests to arrive.

Maybelle had shown an hour early to help with last minute items needing attention, saying the other Butterflies would be there soon to do their part in helping with the Open House.

“Whether locals come to your Open House or not, Hamilton House will be a success.” Maybelle wiped her finger over a piece of furniture, inspecting to make sure there was no dust. “You going to leave that out?”

Sarah followed Maybelle’s line of vision and nodded. She’d considered packing the quilt away, keeping her secret safe a while longer. Instead, she’d left it right where it was. Right where it had been since the day Bodie had left.

“Everyone in our quilting group is going to recognize it as the one you donated to Quilts of Valor after Jean died.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s why he came here, to find you,” Maybelle mused, then walked over to the quilt, picked up one corner from where it draped over a rocking chair. “Why do you think he left it?”

Sarah knew why.

“He didn’t need, or want, it anymore. He told me once that when he received it, it made him remember why he did what he did. In the end, I think it reminded him of things he’d rather forget, including me.”

Maybelle’s gaze cut to her. Sarah waited, expecting the woman to offer some tidbit of wisdom or some dry remark meant to make Sarah feel better. She did neither.

“I’m sorry he left.”

Sarah was sorry about a lot of things. Like how foolish she’d been the night before when she’d texted him. He hadn’t texted back. Not even a simple “Thanks” or “Merry Christmas back.” Would it have hurt him to have shown that courtesy?

Or maybe he wanted to make sure she got the message loud and clear that he’d left, and that he didn’t want reminders of her.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah waved off Maybelle’s concern. She wouldn’t cry over things she had no control over. Today was Christmas. The best day of the year. She wouldn’t let thoughts of Bodie dampen her joy. Today was a good day. A great day.