What if she was the light bright enough to illuminate the inner darkness that never truly let go of him?
“Be leery of candy from strangers and good-looking firefighters dressed as Santa,” Isabelle warned from beside Sophie as they made their way back to Sophie’s booth just opposite from the quilt shop. The courthouse yard was covered with garland and ribbon-draped tents and the space was full of vendors selling various wares.
Isabelle was splitting her time between the church’s bake sale and ornament sale. Each year, the Butterflies made plastic canvas snowflakes that were sold to raise funds for Sarah’s special community charity projects. Sophie supported the snowflake cause but didn’t volunteer for the booth because she felt the Quilts of Valor booth needed her more. Her sister felt otherwise. Isabelle never complained about the amount of time Sophie put into the cause she whole-heartedly believed in, but her sister rarely volunteered to pitch in herself with Sophie’s Quilts of Valor activities.
Isabelle’s reasons for not being as involved were the exact same as Sophie’s reasons for wanting to be as involved as possible. Their father.
“You’re just jealous because I got the Rudolph the red-nosed gumball from Santa,” Sophie accused, blowing a bubble with her gum, and, laughing, quickly sucking it back in when Isabelle went to pop it.
Santa Cole had waved. Silly, but that simple wave had flip-flopped her belly with pure giddiness.
Isabelle wrinkled her own nose. “You know I haven’t chewed gum since before I had braces—and I was fifteen when they came off.”
“Your loss,” she assured her sister, then added, “Besides, you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Cole.”
“Other than how emotionally involved with a former military man you’re becoming, you mean?”
Bingo.
“Not that we’re involved, not like you’re inferring, but his being a former military man is a plus to me.”
“You’ve forgotten how our father was?”
Sophie blew another bubble because she knew it would annoy Isabelle almost as much as her sister’s question annoyed her. Isabelle knew Sophie hadn’t forgotten.
A kid didn’t forget that her father had just packed up and left.
“You can’t blame me for worrying about you,” Isabelle reminded as they entered the tent where Sophie had quilts displayed, including ones attached to each side of three sides of the tent to block the wind, along with a table spread with brochures and pamphlets.
Most of the goods on display in the various tents were Christmas themed or decorated, but not Sophie’s. She was all red, white, and blue.
A Quilts of Valor Foundation banner draped the front of the table and Isabelle winced as she stared at it.
“I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
“I know,” Sophie relented. “And, I appreciate how much you love me and have always looked out for me. But where Cole is concerned, stop worrying. We’re barely more than acquaintances.”
“You don’t expect me to believe that, surely?”
Shrugging, Sophie straightened a stack of brochures. “Believe what you want.”
“You’d like there to be more between the two of you,” Isabelle accused, obviously not ready to let the conversation go.
“Of course, I’d like there to be more.” She met her sister’s gaze. “Why wouldn’t I? Cole’s a great person. I’d like to be his friend.” Maybe more. Maybe a lot more. “I’d think you’d feel the same as me, that we should reach out to him, make him feel welcome.”
Isabelle sighed. “I can’t stand the thought of you being involved with someone who is destined to hurt you.”
Isabelle was wrong. Cole wouldn’t hurt her. Yes
, he was a bit hot and cold, but it wasn’t out of malice. He was just dealing with his own defensive issues.
Leaning over, Sophie hugged her sister. “I’m very lucky to have you to love me and watch out for me. Thank you.”
“Just…be careful, okay?”
“That is some good chili.”
A de-Santa-fied Cole nodded at Andrew’s comment after they’d each finished eating a bowl apiece from Lou’s food truck. The hot, spiced-up soup he’d chosen had been some of the best Cole had ever eaten. One thing was certain, Pine Hill had great food.