A Soldier's Christmas

It couldn’t be.

As realization slowly started to sink in, Emma’s hand slipped from the door and went limp beside her. Her heart picked up a frantic beat in her chest as tears gathered on her lashes.

He really stood before her.

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“Emma?” Logan whispered, and took a step closer.

“Is it really you?” She reached up, and caressed one side of his face. She watched as his eyes closed on a sigh, and he leaned into her.

And that’s when the tears started to fall from her eyes. There was no control over them as they fell down her face. Logan hesitated then reached out and pulled her into his arms. Emma had no trouble embracing him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms held her tightly against him while she cried into his neck.

He was alive.

“You stopped writing,” she whispered. “I thought something bad had happened to you.”

Logan didn’t answer, but kept his face buried in her neck, like she did with him. His scent was delicious, and probably lingered from his shower. She kissed his neck and felt his reaction when he shuddered against her, and held her closer.

Emma was afraid to let go of him in case he disappeared, but gradually the cold had started to seep through her clothes.

She should invite him inside. Where had her manners gone?

Not wanting to break their embrace, Emma stepped back slightly and kept her hands on his arms. When she met his gaze, his eyes were damp. “Come inside.” She stepped backward and Logan followed her through the door, closing it behind him with his foot.

With a watery smile, she stepped around him and reached up to remove his hat; her fingers ran over his short, dark hair and she didn’t want to stop touching him. Her hands slid down to his chest and she unfastened his jacket—helping him remove it along with his gloves. Once she’d placed them on the stand by the door, she turned and found him directly behind her.

His hands cupped her face, his thumbs caressed along her cheekbones. “My Emma.”

Her tears started again at his words, and the obvious emotion behind them.

“Don’t cry.” He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her back into his embrace. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she clung to him.

She wanted someone to pinch her so she knew that it wasn’t a dream and that he was really in her home. Her face tilted up to his and she stared at his generous mouth, wondering what it would feel like to really kiss him. The shadow of his beard gave him a hard edge, but the emotion in his eyes filled her heart with hope, and love.

He brushed the hair from her face with his fingertips, and asked, “What did you mean, I stopped writing? You stopped writing to me six months ago, but I never stopped.”

Emma blinked a few times and tried to comprehend what he said. “How’s that possible? I wrote and mailed so many letters to you these past months, and I’ve never received anything from you.” She frowned.

“Emma?”

Emma glanced to the side, and for the first time, noticed her mom and sister watching from the doorway to the kitchen. Her mom stepped toward them when Emma met her gaze.

The introductions had to happen, even though her first thought was to grab Logan’s hand and take him to her bedroom. She just wanted to talk to him, and keep him to herself a little bit longer. She’d been without him for months, so she had the right to be selfish, and have all his attention on her.

Emma cleared her throat, and with great reluctance, stepped out of Logan’s arms. He obviously felt the same way as she did because he took her hand and intertwined their fingers together—needing the connection between them.

She inhaled and smiled at her family. “This is Logan, my soldier.” Emma frowned when her mom and Bree glanced at each other. “Um, Logan, this is my mom, Martha, and my sister, Bree. Hovering in the background is Bree’s husband, Gabe.”

The introductions made, Emma pointedly glared at her mom for not making Logan feel welcomed. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave, although she had a feeling if he did that, he’d be asking her to leave with him.

Her head was filled with so many questions, but at the front of all the others was just one, if they both wrote to each other these past months, then what had happened to both their letters? Why didn’t either of them receive anything? That didn’t add up.

“Logan, I’m sorry. Where are my manners? Please come through to the kitchen and have some coffee and cake.” Her mom finally said, although she seemed reluctant. She motioned for them to follow her into the kitchen.

Emma winced and glanced at Logan who had a polite smile on his handsome face while he faced her family. But when she met his gaze and smiled, his face lit with pure joy.

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should have called or something first.” He squeezed her hand and let Emma lead him through into the kitchen.