Home for Christmas (Willow Park #5)

by Noelle Adams

  She closed her eyes and prayed, vaguely aware of the sitcom blaring on the television, until she finally went to sleep.

  ***

  The next afternoon, Sophie was arguing with her grandfather about the bookstore, something they often did.

  “But, Grandpa,” she said, trying not to sound impatient, “We wouldn’t have to get rid of very many books. We could keep all the sections—just reduce the number of books in each one a bit—and then there would be room for the coffee bar right here at the front of the shop.”

  He frowned at her. “This is a bookstore. Not a coffee house. If people want coffee, they can go to the doughnut shop across the street.”

  “I know they can. But you don’t seem to understand that, nowadays, people want coffee drinks everywhere they go. We could make it really cute, and folks would come in just to get some coffee, but then they would stick around and buy books.”

  “You’ve already made me put all those armchairs in and get all those knickknacks in the front. What more do you want?”

  The bookstore had been losing money steadily until Sophie had come and started instituting some changes, but even now it was barely breaking even. If her grandfather didn’t have a lot of money in savings, they never would have gotten by.

  “I want coffee,” she said. “I’m telling you, there isn’t a real coffee shop downtown here, so there’s a gap that we could fill. I think it would really get good business, and it wouldn’t take that much of an investment.”

  Her grandfather grumbled, but she could see he was starting to cave.

  Willow Park was a small town, but it did have a fairly steady stream of tourists, particularly in the fall when the leaves changed, coming through for the quaint atmosphere and the lovely mountain scenery. The most successful businesses in town were those that took advantage of tourists’ desire for anything cute and charming. Sophie knew that, if she were to make the bookstore cuter and more appealing, it would get more business.

  Before either of them could add to the discussion, the bell on the front door of the shop rang.

  Sophie turned around with her automatic smile for a new customer.

  Except it wasn’t a new customer.

  She recognized the two people who entered immediately. The man was Roger Wilson, Mark’s boss at the cable news station. The woman was the representative from the White House. Both of them had showed up on her door that horrible night in D.C. to tell her that Mark was kidnapped.

  Sophie’s heart dropped to her gut as she stared at them.

  Roger smiled at her, his expression very strange. “Sophie. It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes,” she managed to say, coming out behind the desk and reaching an arm out to shake his hand. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Fine. Good. You remember Paula Hilton?” Roger definitely sounded odd.

  Sophie shook Paula’s hand too, barely focusing on the other woman’s face. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  Her hands were starting to shake.

  Fortunately, Roger didn’t waste any time. “We’ve got him back.”

  Sophie froze. The whole world froze for a very long time. Finally, she managed to gasp, “What?”

  “We’ve got him back. They were finally able to negotiate a deal for his return. He’s safe. So are Jim and Peter. We’ve got them all back.”

  Sophie couldn’t see anything. She started to sway. Her grandfather hurried over with a folding chair they kept behind the cashier’s desk.

  After a minute, she was sitting in the chair, although she had no idea how she’d even gotten there. “He’s….he’s safe?”

  “Yes. He’s safe,” Roger said. “They’ve taken him to Germany. He’s in a hospital there now.”

  “Ger-many? He’s in a hospital? Is he okay?”

  “He hasn’t had an easy time, of course,” Paula said softly. “And it will take some time for him to…to get back to full health. But they say he’s going to be okay.”

  Sophie’s breathing was fast and shallow. She couldn’t seem to take a full breath. She leaned forward, trying to catch her breath, to process what was going on, how it could be happening like this without any warning.

  Her grandfather was rubbing her back, muttering, “Thank you, Jesus,” under his breath.

  If Sophie had any breath, she might have been saying it too.

  “You can go to him,” Roger said, sounding rather emotional himself. He’d always been a kind man. “You can take a flight to Germany right away to see him.”

  “Now?”

  “Right now, if you want.”

  Of course, she wanted to go right now. She’d been waiting for this news for 913 days.

  Two

  Whenever Sophie had dreamed of seeing Mark again, she’d always imagined herself joyful, thrilled, ecstatic.

  She’d never imagined she’d be terrified.

  But, as she rode up the elevator in the hospital in Germany, she was more scared than anything else.

  She was sure he’d changed. Anyone would have changed, after going through what he had. But she might not know him anymore. He might not know her. He might not feel for her the way he used to. Their marriage might never again be what it was.

  It was wrong to feel this way—to feel anything but happy about his return—but forcing the feelings away didn’t really work.

  Since Roger and Paula had walked into the bookstore yesterday, her life had turned into a whirlwind—talking to people, flying across the Atlantic, meeting more strangers than she could possibly remember, and then finally being driven onto the airbase in Germany and walking into the hospital.

  She hadn’t had any time to process, and now she was here before she could even think clearly about what it meant. She knew she was about to see Mark, and several people had warned her not to expect too much from him right away, since experiences like he’d had take their toll on a person.

  All she knew was that he was her husband and she was finally about to see him again.

  She tried to visualize him in her mind, putting him in a hospital bed, and could barely do it. That just scared her even more. She was his wife. She was supposed to love him no matter what. She did love him no matter what. But how could she really love him if she didn’t even know him anymore?

  Her whole body was shaking as she walked down the hall with Paula, who had accompanied her on the flight and had clearly been sent as the official representative of the U.S. government.

  Sophie had been told all kinds of details about the Syrian group who had captured him and how the U.S. had managed to get him back. Peggy, the wife of Jim, the producer, and Mike, the long-time boyfriend of Peter, the cameraman, had both appeared to follow the background and care about all the details. Sophie didn’t. Her mind couldn’t work that way. She couldn’t bear to hear the politics of why her husband had been captured, since it made the situation scarier, more brutally painful.

  At the moment Sophie was barely aware of Paula beside her. Her stomach was churning, and she tightened her hands into fists so they wouldn’t be trembling so obviously as she approached Mark’s door.

  A few people were gathered outside, but Sophie didn’t recognize any of them.

  She stood like a statue, staring at the partially closed door. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, and no idea how she was supposed to do it.

  “He dozed off a little while ago,” someone said. Sophie guessed the woman was maybe a nurse. “But he’ll wake up easily enough. No need for you to wait any longer to see him.”

  The nurse was smiling at Sophie, fondly and full of affection. Everyone was smiling at her. They were happy for her—finally able to see her husband again.

  Sophie was happy too. Wasn’t she?

  Swallowing hard over her nerves, she pushed open the door and walked into the room very slowly.

  It was a hospital room—just like all the others she’d seen in her life. With a bed, a lot of equipment, a side chair, and a very ster
ile atmosphere. There were four bouquets of flowers on the long windowsill—all of them large and expensive. She wondered who had sent them.

  Sophie had nothing for Mark. She’d brought him nothing. She hadn’t even thought about it until this very minute.

  Then her eyes found the figure lying in the bed, and she forgot about failing to bring a gift.

  The man in the bed was one she barely recognized.

  She’d always feared that, when Mark finally returned, he’d be a different person after his experiences. She was afraid he’d act different, feel differently, see her differently.

  She’d never actually believed he would look different.

  But he did.

  Maybe her memory had grown fuzzy over the last years, but the man’s face didn’t look right. It was thinner, far too gaunt. And the lack of flesh accentuated the finely chiseled cheekbones, the distinctive nose, the shape of the jaw.

  His hair had always been brown and very thick, but she’d never seen it as long as it was now. It didn’t hang smoothly either—it stuck out all over his head, even though it was clear that someone had tried to tidy him up this morning. He had a full beard, and his dark eyelashes looked startling against his skin.

  For some reason, she’d imagined he’d have a tan, since he tanned easily and he’d been in the desert. But he was pale—far paler than she’d ever seen him.

  Of course, he was. He’d been imprisoned for more than two years. What the hell had she expected?

  His eyes were closed. He was asleep. She was glad, since it meant she’d have a minute or two to pull herself together. She didn’t want him to see her like this—a bewildered, emotional mess. She wanted him to see her be strong.

  She might be scared, but he didn’t have to know that. He was the one who had really suffered, so she was going to be strong for him now. Stronger than she’d been when he’d known her before.

  She took a shuddering breath.

  She hadn’t thought the inhale was very loud, but he must have heard it. He adjusted his position in the bed and slowly opened his eyes.

  He blinked at her a few times. His eyes were dark and lovely, but now they looked overly large for his face. He looked haunted, somehow.

  She saw the moment he registered her presence because his whole demeanor changed. He’d been sleepy, almost relaxed, but now he suddenly stiffened, his body tensing up as he pushed himself into more of a sitting position against the pillows.

  “Hi,” she said, rather stupidly.

  “Sophie. You’re here.” He sounded almost surprised, but that didn’t make sense. Surely he’d expected her to come to him as soon as she possibly could.

  “Yeah. They flew me over here as soon as I…I heard.” Even her knees were shaking now, and she wasn’t going to be able to stand up for much longer, so she hurried over to sit down in the chair beside the bed. “How…how are you?”

  It was a silly question, but she had to say something—and she had no idea what else to say.

  “I’m fine.” Mark sat up even straighter, pushing down the sheet he’d been covered with. He wore nothing but a flimsy hospital gown, but he started to drop his legs over the side of the bed. “I don’t need to be in here. I don’t know why they’re making me stay here.”

  “Mark, no,” she cried, when she realized he was starting to get up, trying to put on a pose of nonchalance of her. “Don’t get up.” She reached over to try to hold him in the bed. “Don’t get up for me.”

  He stopped his attempt to rise, but she didn’t pull her hands back. He sat on the side of the bed, her hands flattened against his chest. He looked down at them there, like he didn’t recognize why she was touching him.

  And she just about lost it. Emotion ripped through her, and she had to fight to hold onto her composure and not burst into sobs. But she wasn’t going to cry like that now—not when she finally had Mark back.

  She was going to be strong. As strong as he had always been. She was going to take care of him now, the way he’d always taken care of her.

  She lowered her hands to grab at his, and she held them both in hers. “I…I’m so glad you’re back.” She looked up to meet his eyes.

  His gaze held her for just a moment before he looked down at their entwined hands. He muttered, “Me too.”

  She focused down at their hands too, and she realized he was looking at her left hand, where her wedding ring and engagement ring were on her finger. She looked at his and gave a little jerk when she didn’t see a ring there.

  He wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. Maybe he didn’t have it anymore. Maybe they’d taken it from him.

  The thought hurt like a wound.

  He must have noticed what she was staring at because he gently pulled his hand away. “I still have it. They took all my possessions for processing or something, but I’m supposed to get it back.”

  She took another shaky breath. “Okay. Good.”

  She had absolutely no idea what to say.

  “How have…how have you been?” Mark sounded like he was trying to act natural, and she completely understood the attempt.

  She felt exactly the same way.

  “I’ve been okay. I’ve…missed you all the time, of course, and I’ve been so worried about you.”

  “I hate that you worried about me.”

  She looked up at him in surprise and saw that he was frowning. “Of course, I worried. I was terrified. But I’ve been holding up okay. I moved to Willow Park.”

  “That’s what they said. Why did you move there?”

  “I just needed to…to get away from D.C. I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I couldn’t stay in our apartment. Grandpa was having trouble with the bookstore, so I moved to Willow Park to help him out with it. It’s been…it’s been good.”

  “I never pictured you as a small town girl.” He didn’t seem to want to hold her eyes. He’d look up at her quickly and then away.

  “I’m not. I guess I’m not.” She’d been born and raised in D.C., and that was where she’d gone to college and gotten her first job. “But folks are really nice there, and Grandpa needs me.”

  “Good. I’m glad it worked out for you.”

  “But I’ll move back to D.C., of course,” she said quickly, “if that’s where you want to be.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me.” The words were bland, matter-of-fact.

  “Of course, it does!” She reached out for his hand again. “If your job is in D.C…”

  “I’m not sure what my job is anymore.”

  “But they wouldn’t…they wouldn’t fire you.”

  “Of course, not. No one has said anything. It’s just a matter of what I’m capable of doing.”

  She studied his face closely, but she couldn’t read his expression at all. “Obviously, it’s going to take some time, but soon enough you’ll…you’ll be...” She wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence, and his face didn’t change. “But we can save all that for some other time.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did they say anything about what happens now?”

  “Yeah. I guess there’s a lot of transition stuff they want to do with me.” He looked wry now, slightly annoyed. “To make sure I haven’t lost my mind and that I don’t spill any international secrets, I guess.”

  “I’m sure that’s not what—”

  “Anyway, it’s transition stuff. It sounded like it was going to take a while.”

  “That’s fine. I’m sure it will go quickly. You’re home, now. That’s what matters most.” She squeezed his hand.

  He didn’t pull his hand away, but he didn’t squeeze her hand back. She noticed the absence.

  He hadn’t hugged her or kissed her or initiated any touch at all.

  She told herself not to be foolish. He’d been through a lot. It might take a little time before he felt like touching anyone, including her. It wasn’t personal. It didn’t mean he didn’t love her anymore.

  Things weren’t going to go back to normal overnight, bu
t they would get there.

  Both of them were strong, and they loved each other. They could do this.

  She was sure they could do this.

  ***

  Four days later, they flew back to D.C.

  Mark hadn’t been kidding about the transition stuff. Evidently, it was going to take a few weeks for him to have all the meetings he needed to have, have all the check-ups and treatments they wanted to give him. Maybe, if he’d resisted, they would have set him free to do what he wanted, since he wasn’t a government employee and they didn’t have any real claim on him, but he didn’t put up any resistance, except for the occasional grumbling.

  There was counseling offered to Sophie too. Evidently, they realized the transition would be hard for her as well, and she was willing to do anything to help smooth over Mark’s return.

  At least Mark was out of the hospital now. They were going to stay at a nice hotel in D.C.—at the government’s expense. Maybe they could even have a little privacy.

  They’d had no privacy at all since she’d arrived in Germany.

  At the moment, she was being dropped off at their hotel, while Mark was still meeting with someone. He was supposed to join her later, and they’d have the evening together.

  That would be nice. She hoped.

  Their room was actually a suite, and it was elegant and comfortable both. Sophie felt very small in the large room by herself, and she sat down next to the window without unpacking or making herself more at home.

  She was so restless and worried that she called her parents and talked to them for a half-hour. They were supportive and comforting, but she couldn’t tell them all of her worries. They’d get concerned about her and would probably immediately fly up here, which would make the situation even more complicated. She tried to think of someone she could talk to, and she decided to call Abigail.

  Abigail might be busy with her family, but she could still have a few minutes to chat.

  “Sophie!” Abigail said, sounding excited. “I’m so glad you called. How are you?”