by Jill Shalvis
“Yeah,” the kid said, waving a handheld game. “Did you?”
“I don’t know.” Logan looked at Sandy. “Did I?”
“Yes,” she breathed, and threw herself at him. “You got everything you ever wanted. Forever.”
“Does this mean you love me, too?”
“It means I love you. With or without the BMW.” She waited a beat, grinning up at him mischievously. “But with is better.”
I’ll Be Home for Christmas
Baby Jesus wailed loud enough to be heard in the next county. His floodlit manger rocked back and forth while a group of gaily painted plaster wisemen looked on. Staff Sergeant Matt Jasper took a few hesitant steps toward the crèche and wondered if PTSD had finally found him. He peeked into the wobbling manger.
A pair of golden eyes stared back.
He let go of the breath he’d been holding. It was a cat, not a baby. Thank goodness. He knew how to handle a cat. A baby would have scared him silly.
“What’re you doing in there with Jesus?” he said as he scooped up the animal and cradled it against his chest. It sank its claws into the fabric of his combat uniform and ducked its head under his chin.
It started to purr, its body shaking with the effort.
He looked down at the animal. The markings on its face weren’t quite symmetrical—a little patch of brown fur by its white nose made its face look dirty. The cat stared back at him as if it could see things beyond Matt’s vision.
Then it let go of its claws and settled down into his big hands as if it believed it had found a permanent home.
Stupid cat. It should know better than to settle on him. He didn’t have a permanent home. He was as much a stray as the animal in his hands.
He didn’t need a cat right now.
He just needed to deliver Nick’s present—the last one he’d bought for his grandmother. And once Matt finished that errand, he could think about the future—preferably without any animals in it.
Annie Roberts sang the closing lyrics to “Watchman, Tell Us of the Night,” her solo scheduled for tomorrow night’s Christmas Eve service. Dale Pontius, the Christ Church choir director, sat in the back pew listening and nodding his head.
Pride rushed through her. She had a very good singing voice, and she loved this particular carol. She was looking forward to singing it for everyone at tomorrow night’s services. Singing on Christmas Eve was one of Annie’s greatest joys. She’d been singing in the Christ Church choir since she’d returned home from college, almost fifteen years before.
Just as the closing notes of the guitar accompaniment faded, a soldier in fatigues with a big pack on his back entered the sanctuary through the front doors. He strolled down the center aisle a few steps, the sound of his boot heels echoing. He stared up at the choir and Annie in particular.
He had forgotten to take off his dark beret, and a shadow of day-old beard colored his cheeks. He looked hard and worn around the edges.
“Who the dickens are you?” Dale said from his place in the back pew.
The soldier looked over one broad shoulder. “I’m Staff Sergeant Matt Jasper, sir,” he said in a deep voice. “I was wondering if anyone had lost a cat. And also I need some directions.”
It was only then that Annie noticed the ball of orange, white, and brown fur resting in Sergeant Jasper’s hands.
“Good heavens, get that mangy thing out of here. I’m allergic.” Dale stood up and gestured toward the door.
Millie Polk, standing behind Annie in the alto section whispered, sotto voce, “Maybe he’ll have a sneezing fit, and we’ll all get to go home to our gift wrapping and cooking.”
This elicited several chortles of laughter from the vicinity of the sopranos. Annie loved choir practice, but she had to admit that Dale was a real taskmaster this time of year. And, like Millie Polk, she had a long list of Christmas errands she needed to get done before tomorrow afternoon.
“You think a cat in this sanctuary is funny?” Dale said, turning toward the soprano section. “Did ya’ll have any idea how lacking your performance of the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ was this evening? There is nothing funny about this situation.”
Dale turned toward the soldier. “I am very grateful for your service to the country, but this is a closed rehearsal. I would appreciate it if you would leave and take the cat with you.”
It was almost comical the way Dale managed to stare down his nose while simultaneously looking up at the sergeant holding the kitten. The situation was sort of like a Chihuahua playing alpha dog to an adorable collie.
Matt Jasper wasn’t intimidated by Dale though. He simply stared down at the choir director out of a pair of dark, almost black eyes. His eyebrows waggled. “Sorry to bust up your choir practice, sir, but I found this cat in your manger. If I hadn’t picked it up, it probably would have broken your baby Jesus. So I figure the cat’s yours. I need to get going. I’ve got an errand to run, and I—”
“Well, it’s not my cat.” Dale turned to the choir. “Did any of you bring your cat to choir practice?” There was no mistaking the scorn in Dale’s voice.
The choir got really quiet. Nobody liked it when Dale lost his temper.
“See? The cat doesn’t belong to anyone.” Dale gazed at the bundle of fur in the soldier’s hands and sniffed. “It’s probably a stray. Why don’t you leave it outside and get on with your errand?”
“He can’t do that,” Annie said, and then immediately regretted her words. She did not want a cat, no matter how lonely she felt sometimes.
On the other hand, she wasn’t going to stand by and let Dale Pontius and Sergeant Jasper drop a stray in the churchyard and walk away. That was inhumane.
Dale turned toward Annie, his displeasure evident in his scowl. Dale could be a tyrant. She should keep her mouth shut. But for some reason, the little bundle of fur in the big soldier’s hands made her brave. “It’s cold outside. It’s supposed to rain.”
She pulled her gaze away from Dale and gave the soldier the stink eye. She wasn’t intimidated by that uniform or his broad shoulders. He needed to know that she frowned on people leaving stray cats in the neighborhood.
Jasper’s full mouth twitched a little at the corner. “Ma’am,” he said, “you can rest easy. I’m not going to leave it outside to wander. I’d like to find it a good home.” His gaze never wavered. His eyes were deep and dark and sad, like a puppy dog’s eyes.
She didn’t need a puppy either.
The cat issued a big, loud meow that reverberated in the empty sanctuary. The church’s amazing acoustic qualities magnified the meow to monumental proportions.
“Get that thing out of here.” Dale was working himself into a tizzy.
“Uh, look,” the soldier said, “can anyone here tell me where I might find Ruth Clausen? I went to what I thought was her address, but the house is all boarded up.”
The choir shifted uneasily. “Ruth’s in a nursing home,” Annie said.
The soldier’s thick eyebrows almost met in the middle when he frowned. “In a nursing home?”
“Yes, she’s very old and quite ill,” Dale said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a choir practice to get on with.” Dale strode past the man in the aisle and back to the front of the church.
“That was very nice, Annie, Clay.” Dale turned toward Clay Rhodes, the choir’s main instrumentalist. “I’d like one more run-through on the Handel.”
Annie resumed her place with the altos, and Clay put his guitar in its stand and took his place at the organ. He flipped through a few pages of music and began the opening chords of the “Hallelujah Chorus.”
Annie sang her part and watched as the cat-packing soldier ignored Dale’s request and took a seat in the back pew. Halfway through the choir’s performance, Sergeant Jasper must have remembered that he was in a church, because he finally took off his beret. His hair was salt-and-pepper and cut military short.
For some reason, Annie couldn’t keep her eyes off him. She wondered if he
might have been one of Nick’s friends.
It seemed likely, since he’d come in here asking after Ruth, Nick’s grandmother. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him that he’d come on a fool’s errand.
Matt settled back in the pew and listened to the music. This little town was way in the boonies, but the choir sounded pretty good. Not that he was a student of religious Christmas music. Matt had never been to church on Christmas. In fact, he’d pretty much never been to church in his life.
Not like Nick Clausen. If Nick’s stories were to be believed, his folks had practically lived at church.
That’s why Matt had come here to the church after he’d discovered that Ruth’s house was boarded up. He’d known that someone at this church would know where to find Nick’s grandmother.
Just like he’d known that the altar would have big bunches of poinsettias all over it, and the stained-glass window would have a picture of Jesus up on his cross.
It struck him, sitting there, that Nick had gone to Sunday school here. Nick had been confirmed here. He’d come here on Christmas Eve.
Matt took a deep breath. Boy, Nick sure had loved Christmas. Matt could kind of understand it, too, listening to the choir.
Matt’s Christmases had been spent in a crummy apartment in Chicago while his mother and father got drunk.
He closed his eyes and let the music carry him away from those memories. He’d gotten over his childhood. He’d found a home in the army. He’d made something of himself.
He buried his fingers in the stray’s soft fur. It licked his hand with a rough tongue.
He needed to find the local animal shelter, followed by the nursing home. Then he planned to get the hell out of Dodge before the urge to stay overwhelmed him. Because a guy like him didn’t belong in a place like this. This was Nick’s place, not his.
The music ended, and the choir director finally let everyone go. Matt stood up and slung his pack over his shoulder. Maybe the brown-haired woman with the amazing voice could help him. He’d heard her singing from out on the lawn, after the cat had stopped howling. The sound had called to him, and he’d followed it right into the church.
The choir members seemed thrilled to be dismissed. Probably because the choir director was a jerk, and they had shopping, and cooking, and a lot of other holiday crap to do. People in Last Chance would be busy like that, cooking big meals, wrapping presents, decorating trees, and stuff.
He found the brown-haired woman who’d spoken up in the cat’s defense. “Ma’am, I was wondering, could you help me, please?”
She was shrugging into a big dark coat that had a sparkly Christmas tree pin on its collar. She gazed at him out of a pair of dark blue eyes. She had very pale skin, a long nose, and a thin face.
“I’m not taking your cat,” she said in a defensive voice. “But if you’re looking for Ruth, she’s in the Golden Years Nursing Home up in Orangeburg.”
He frowned. “Where’s that?”
“You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, ma’am. I’m originally from Chicago. Since I joined up, I’m from wherever they station me.” Except, of course, that wasn’t true anymore. He hadn’t re-upped this time, and he had nowhere permanent to go. He’d come to deliver Nick’s present, and then he had some vague plans for spending New Year’s on a beach somewhere—maybe Miami.
“Well, Orangeburg is about twenty miles north of here. But I need to warn you, Ruth’s been in the nursing home for the last year, and she’s pretty ill. I know because I work for her doctor.”
“I see.”
“Are you a friend of Nick’s?” she asked.
He smiled. “Yes. Did you know him too?”
“I went to high school with him. I had a bit of a crush on him.” She blushed when she said it.
“And you are?”
“I’m Annie Roberts.”
He blinked and almost said I know you. But of course he didn’t know Annie, except from the things Nick had told him. Annie had been Nick’s girlfriend in high school. They had broken up the night of their senior prom.
“You studied nursing at the University of Michigan,” he said.
“How did you—Oh, Nick told you that, didn’t he?”
He grinned. “He told me you were looking forward to going someplace where it snows.”
She frowned at him. “Why are you here? Nick died more than a year ago.”
“I know. I was with him when it happened.”
“Oh.”
He shouldn’t have said that. People always got that look on their faces when he spoke about this crap. No one back home really understood.
She squared her shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Are you a member of the Army Engineers K-9 team too?”
He continued to stroke the cat. “I was. As of yesterday, I’m officially a civilian.”
The words came out easy. It took everything he had to hide the emotions behind them.
“And you came here? Right before Christmas? Don’t you have a family someplace?”
He shrugged. “I have Nick’s last Christmas present—you know, the one he intended to send home to his grandmother. I need to deliver it.”
Her gaze pierced him for a moment. It was almost as if she could read all of his thoughts and emotions. A muscle ticked in her cheek, and she seemed to be weighing something in her mind.
She must have decided that he wasn’t a threat because she let go of a long breath and gave the kitten a little stroke. “Poor thing. She looks half starved.”
“How do you know it’s a female?”
“How do you know it’s not?”
He shifted the animal so he could actually inspect it. “Well, you were right. It’s a girl. Means she’ll have to be fixed. Is there an animal shelter somewhere?”
“Yes. In Allenberg. But it’s probably closed.”
His frustration with the situation mounted. “Uh, look, Annie, I just got in on the bus from Charlotte. I don’t have a car. And now I need to find a home for this kitten, as well as a place to stay for the night. It’s probably too late to go visiting at a nursing home twenty miles away.”
She buttoned up her coat. “Boy, you’re in a fix, aren’t you?”
“Is there a hotel somewhere?”
Her cheeks colored just the slightest bit. “Well, the only place in town is the Peach Blossom Motor Court. They would probably allow you to keep the cat.”
“I’ve heard about the Peach Blossom Motor Court,” he blurted and then remembered the story. “Oh, crap. That was stupid.”
Annie’s cheeks reddened further. “I guess guys in the army have nothing better to do than talk.”
“Yes, ma’am. And believe me, being in the army can be really boring at times. Guys talk about home all the time. I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Don’t be sorry. What happened between me and Nick the night of senior prom happened almost twenty years ago.”
“I guess he never told you about me, did he?” Nick asked.
She shook her head. “Why would he? He and I parted ways that night. He went off to join the army and see the world. I went off to college to see the snow. I guess I saw him that Christmas right after he went through basic training, but I wasn’t speaking with him at the time.” She hugged herself, and Matt noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.
So the girl Nick had never forgotten was unmarried.
She gave him a smile that didn’t show any teeth. A few lines bunched at the corner of her eyes. She wasn’t young. But she was pretty.
And Matt knew that she was sweet. He had a lot of Nick’s stories filed away in his head. Nick had been a real good storyteller when things got slow.
Annie studied the cat sleeping in his hands and then nodded her head as if she’d come to a decision. “Look, you can’t stay at the Peach Blossom. It probably has bed bugs. It’s just an awful place. So you might as well come on home with me. I’ve got a perfectly fine guest room where you can sleep, and i
n the morning, we can figure something out. I’m sure I can find someone to run you up to Orangeburg, or I can do it myself.”
“How about a friend who wants to adopt Fluffy?” He held up the cat in his hands.
“Fluffy?” She gave him a funny look. “That is a stupid name for a cat.”
“Why? She’s kind of fluffy.”
“Yeah, but everyone names their cat Fluffy. There must be five Fluffys living here in Last Chance, and they all belong to single women. Please don’t name the cat Fluffy.”
“Okay, I won’t,” Matt said. “I thought you didn’t care about this cat.”
“Well, no, but you found it in a manger a couple days before Christmas, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then, it needs a better name than Fluffy. Something holiday-related, like Noel.”
He looked down at the slightly scruffy kitten. “That’s a pretty pretentious name for this particular cat, don’t you think? Of course, if you were going to adopt it, you could name it anything you wanted.”
She scowled at him. “I’m not adopting any cats, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Annie should have her head examined. She could almost hear Mother’s voice outlining all the reasons she should send Sergeant Matt Jasper off to the Peach Blossom Motor Court. Mother would start with the fact that he was male, and then move right on to the worry that he was secretly either a pervert or an ax murderer.
Mother had trust issues.
But Annie could not, for the life of her, believe that a man with Matt’s warm, dark eyes was either a pervert or a murderer. And besides, he knew how to handle the cat. His hands were big and gentle. And that uniform seemed to be tailor made for him.
She led him down the aisle and out the door and into the blustery December evening.
“Feels like snow,” he said.
She laughed. “I don’t think so. We don’t ever get snow here.”
“It seems like you should.” They headed across Palmetto Avenue and down Julia Street.
“Snow in South Carolina? Not happening.”
He shifted the cat in his arms. “Nick used to talk about Christmas in Last Chance all the time. I always kind of imagined the place with a dusting of snow.”
