Holiday Heroes (Wingmen Warriors 13)

“Right.” He shrugged past that guilt pinch again. “When they went shopping to pick out a crèche, it took them forever. Somebody didn’t like the sheep in one or the angel in another.” He paused by a shelf of toy planes. “I was TDY, and they about drove their nanny crazy searching. Then Alicia figured it out. Why buy a matching set? They each put together an eclectic nativity.”

“I like that.”

“We were never a family for the coordinated decorated tree. Alicia, my child of the unmatched flair, would have painted all the glass decorations different colors anyway.”

“Then she definitely won’t want this little dirndl dress for her daughter. How about a polka dot fur jacket?”

“Perfect.” He glanced at his watch and out the shop window. “Time to go.”

“Of course.” Her face sobered as she passed the tiny coat to the cashier to wrap.

He hated that this trip had turned so wrong. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re donating this crèche when it obviously means so much to you.”

“It’s just a material possession.”

“Just a thing? More like a priceless antique.”

“You know I don’t like to talk about money.” She took the wrapped package from the cashier.

“Spoken like a woman who has cash to burn.” He made a more than comfortable living as a general and had invested wisely over the years. But he didn’t have millionaire attached to his name like the Landis family—nor had he ever aspired to such. He’d always kept his eyes focused on missions rather than mansions.

To be fair, he’d never seen any sign of materialism from Ginger. “You get tears in your eyes every time you look at that bag. It’s obviously priceless for more reasons than the money.”

“It’s been in the Landis family for fifty years. There are certainly some sentimental memories attached.”

“Like the Senator Klaus story.”

“Exactly. Matthew and Kyle used to argue every year over where to put the wise men.” She strode past the mulled-wine stand back into the bustling crowd. “Matthew is such a traditionalist, like his father. He wanted them right there in the manger. Kyle, however, pointed out that the wise men really didn’t show up until two years later, so they should be positioned somewhere outside the manger.”

“Careful.” He reached to slide his hand between the velvet bag and a trio of children rushing past. Ginger was carrying around a flipping mint, for God’s sake. What if one of those kids had been a purse snatcher?

He frowned.

Another possibility hit him. Why had he never considered that Ginger might not be the target, but rather the priceless artifact she’d been carrying? He slid his arm around her shoulders and tucked her closer to his side, making faster tracks through the press of humanity.

Ginger shot a quick, startled glance up at him before continuing, “Every year, my little smart-aleck son would cradle those three porcelain antiques and shake his head, saying, ‘Two years, for Pete’s sake. That makes them the three wise slackers, if you ask me.’”

“That certainly sounds like Kyle.” Hank could envision the boy saying something like that, except Kyle wasn’t a boy anymore. He would be turning twenty-seven soon.

Her boys had grown up in a blink. He’d tried to help out when he could, but being on the road so much, he’d barely been there for his own kids. Ginger had done a damn fine job with her sons while launching her own political career.

She was one helluva strong woman. He’d taken her presence in his life for granted for a long time.

Why had he needed a scrap of red satin to open his eyes to the fact that perhaps they had something to offer each other besides friendship? For a supposedly world-class military strategist, he’d certainly missed an obvious answer right in front of his eyes.

He and Ginger could offer each other something more if only he could get them both home safely.

He glanced down the road to see if their car had been pulled around to the front of the garage yet as the mechanic had promised to do when finished, but no luck.

Damn it, what was taking so long to fix a simple flat? The hair on the back of his neck stood up in that battle-honed sense that something wasn’t right.

Screw waiting around for the mechanic to pull his car around front. He was going to light a fire under the man. The risk of staying out in the open was too high. He needed to get Ginger to that safe house now.

And pray the all clear was authentic.

Chapter 5

And just when she’d thought they were in the home stretch.