Wrapped Up in Christmas Joy

“Oh. Okay.” Sophie’s cheeks pinkened as she took the bag, opened it, and gently lifted the ornament. “I’d asked her to put three back for me. When you said…I wonder why…” She stared at the single snowflake, then glanced up at him, seeming to realize why her friend had asked the favor of Cole. Her face flushed a deeper pink. “Oh, never mind.”

Yeah, this was growing more awkward by the minute.

“Thanks for bringing the snowflake to me.” She carefully tucked it into the bag she had stowed beneath the table. “I’ll ask Sarah about it later.”

She wouldn’t have to as her friend would, no doubt, tell her that it had been Cole who’d bought the ornament. Cole was convinced Sarah was either a full-fledged Butterfly or maybe one in training. That Bodie had called them bees fit. They buzzed way too much to be labeled butterflies. The older women probably called Sarah a caterpillar or something just as corny.

Why else would Sarah so obviously matchmake? Perhaps she thought because Bodie was such a good man, Cole must be, too. She didn’t know his past to know any better.

Unless Sophie had told her. But no, if Sarah had any idea what he’d been through, what he’d done, she’d want her friend to stay as far away from Cole as possible.

A woman came into the tent, took a brochure, then asked Sophie a question about how to sign up her grandmother, who’d apparently been an Army nurse once upon a time.

Answering the woman’s question, Sophie’s smile wattage flashed with her excitement over her answer and her enthusiasm for the organization she was promoting.

“What is all this stuff?” Cole asked after the woman left, glancing around at the various patriotic quilts displayed around the tent. Three sides of the tent were covered in red, white, and blue quilts, probably to block the wind and cut down on the cold as much as for décor.

If he’d thought her wattage had been cranked up answering the woman’s question, he hadn’t seen anything yet. Her current smile was so brilliant that Cole felt as if he’d just stepped into a spotlight. So much so that he fought to keep from taking a step back, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. Or given the season, should that be a reindeer?

If he wasn’t careful, Sophie would be hooking him up to a sleigh and saying it was for the benefit of his own Christmas spirit.

Eyes sparkling, she clasped her hands together. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Then she launched into a passion-filled spiel about the organization she belonged to that made quilts for the members of the military.

“Our local group awards in this area, as well as sending some to the organization’s national headquarters to help meet requests they get for quilt awards.” Her eyes took on that about-to-bubble-over, hope-filled look she’d had the first time they’d met, the one packed with so much happiness. But this time, it also held a hint of hesitancy that set warning bells off in Cole’s head.

“I want to—” she began, causing Cole’s throat to tighten.

“No.” He cut her off before she could say more.

Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that spicy chili after all, because he was feeling pangs again. Lots of pangs. Not of jealousy, but of absolute refusal to even consider what she’d been on the verge of saying.

Everything in him rejected the idea of Sophie awarding him anything. Of anyone “awarding” something to him that was meant to convey honor.

He’d done his job. And he hadn’t done it nearly well enough—if he had been someone truly worthy of any awards then he wouldn’t have let his men down.

He deserved nothing more than what the government had paid him.

They’d given him a medal. He hadn’t deserved that, either, even if they’d insisted that he had. Men died on his watch. There was nothing honorable or award-worthy about that.

“But you—”

Every muscle in his body contracted to the point where even breathing was difficult. “No buts.”

Frowning, Sophie wasn’t ready to give up on what she’d obviously given a lot of thought to long before tonight. He could see that truth shining in her eyes—saw it and felt frustrated by it.

Widening his stance, bracing for her rebuttal, Cole crossed his arms. He wouldn’t back down on this.

He didn’t want her giving him things. Not quilts. Not pity. Not anything.

“Just hear me out,” she persisted.

“Cole!” Rosie said, coming up to the booth in a swirl of perfume and colorful winter attire that made the blue spikes of her hair poking out from beneath her hat seem tame. The older woman dropped an equally colorful purse beneath the table, then turned back to him. “Are you here to take Sophie to get something to eat during her break? Lord knows she probably hasn’t eaten a bite all day.”

Sophie was about to go on break? And hadn’t eaten a bite all day?

Maintaining his stiffened posture, Cole shook his head. “I should get back to Andrew. He’s probably wondering where I’m at.”