by Janice Lynn
“But on something else?”
His lips twitched. “I just meant that I won’t ever be sewing or attending a sew-in.”
“Never say never.” Sophie got each quilt situated as she wanted, then turned to him. “Give me a minute, please.”
She took off for the small bathroom in the back, checked her hair in the mirror, pleased to see the pink that being outdoors for so long had added to her cheeks. Or was it being with Cole that had given her face color? She looked happy, excited to be alive.
She was. Because of the man waiting on her.
She hurried back out of the bathroom, planning to set the alarm, but she caught sight of Cole via the lit security camera monitor screen as she passed Isabelle’s open office door.
He stood next to the patriotic materials and had the corner of one of the quilts in his hand, examining the stitching.
Not casually, but really looking, a plethora of emotions on his handsome face.
Sophie’s heart squeezed as he ran his fingertip over the pattern, tracing out the intricate details. A faraway look settled into his eyes as he let the material fall through his fingers.
Then, as if unable to resist, he picked the corner back up and held it tightly in his hand, as if he didn’t want to let go of the red, white, and blue material.
Oh, Cole, she thought. If ever someone needed to be wrapped in one of my quilts, it’s you.
If only he’d let her give him one. She thought of the quilt she’d been working on at home, of the time and effort she put into every stitch, of how much she’d love to wrap it around him and welcome him home.
Because he did need a quilt, even if he didn’t think so.
Just as she suspected he needed her. Even if he didn’t think so on that, either.
As his friend, she added, before she let any other connotation attach itself to her thought.
Cole needed her as his friend.
Chapter Fourteen
Near the shop’s closing time, Sophie and Isabelle set up tables for the Make Your Own Stocking class. Each attendee had the option of using one of their display sewing machines or bringing their machine from home. They’d had to turn away a few interested participants due to lack of space and Sophie wanting to make sure they weren’t too crowded for her to be able to give individualized attention as needed.
Once everyone had arrived and was situated, Sophie went to the front of the open area.
“Welcome, everyone,” she told the friendly faces sitting at the tables. Rosie, Maybelle, Aunt Claudia, Ruby, and Mrs. Harvey were among them. Yeah, those ladies did not need her help sewing, but she still wanted to make sure her class was a lot of fun for them.
She gestured over to their table. “Part of me feels I should go sit down and let one of you teach, as each and every one of you have more sewing experience than I do,” she admitted as she prepared to start the class.
“That doesn’t mean we’re too old to learn a new trick,” Ruby said, smiling at Sophie.
“She’s talking about you,” Rosie stage-whispered to Maybelle.
Maybelle pursed her lips. “That’s odd. I could have sworn she meant you when she said ‘too old’.”
“Who are you calling old?” Rosie complained as she fluffed her blue locks. “Just because I’m an experienced seamstress doesn’t mean I’m a day past forty.”
“Forty? Well, at least you got the experienced part, right,” Maybelle said drily, then checked her perfectly manicured fingernails.
“Good grief, she’s so old, she’s suffering memory loss,” Ruby said at the same time, elbowing Sophie’s aunt.
“Lost a good fifty years,” Aunt Claudia agreed, shaking her head in a sad gesture.
“Fifty years?” Rosie shrieked, completely ignoring Maybelle. “You take that back, Claudia.”
“Think of it this way,” Maybelle continued, giving a prim smile. “You look great for ninety, which is more than you can say if you were claiming to be a single day younger.”
“At least you admit I look great,” Rosie huffed resituating herself in her chair. “We all know you three are just jealous of my youth and beauty.”
The three Butterflies snorted.
“Ladies,” Sophie said, trying to get their focus back on her and not each other. “There are eighteen of us here tonight. I’m going to review the steps we’ll take making the stocking, then we’ll divide up into pairs.”
“Just so long as I’m not paired with certain individuals, that’s fine,” Rosie stage-whispered to Mrs. Harvey, gesturing toward Maybelle.
Maybelle didn’t look concerned, just smiled in that stately way she had that said she knew more than everyone else in the room. She usually did, too. Maybelle made things happen. Sometimes in plain sight, but oftentimes behind the scenes, so carefully and strategically that a person didn’t even realize what she was up to until she’d already maneuvered them toward the direction she’d decided they should have been going to begin with. Her uncle and Aunt Claudia traveling was just one exmaple.
“To make everything go quicker, I’ve precut fabric into the pattern. There are plenty of extras, so hopefully everyone will find one they like, but for those who don’t, see me and I’ll demonstrate how to use the cutting machine to cut your stocking shapes in any fabric you choose. I also made a handout for each of you to take home with you that has a pattern you can use for future stockings.”
Sophie smiled at the group, glad they were mostly familiar faces that seemed engaged.
“Once we’ve all selected our material, we’ll get started at our machines. If anyone wants names embroidered, or the like, on your stocking, see me after you’ve selected your material so we can get that done prior to sewing your stocking together.”
Sophie took two precut pieces of fabric of varying colors and sewed them together inside out, flipped them right side out via the small area she’d left unstitched near the toe of the stocking. She then did the same for a second piece. When done, she ironed both pieces, pinned them together inside out, then sat down at a machine and stitched them together, while explaining what she was doing to the women. When done, she turned it right side out and folded the top down, revealing a wide swath of the second colored fabric.
“Voila. You have your stocking.” She continued to push against the seams to remove any puckers as she showed the women what she was doing. “But let’s be real. As beautiful as this is, it’s not overly exciting. So, as I mentioned earlier, we could have embroidered a name or a saying across the top prior to attaching the two pieces.” She picked up an example that she’d made earlier. “Or we can add rick-rack or a fuzzy trim.” She picked up further premade samples. “Or you can get creative and come up with your own way of making your stocking fun and unique.”
The next hour passed quickly as the women picked their material, embroidered, sewed, and decorated their stockings.
Maybelle’s forehead scrunched as she stared at Rosie’s stocking. “Did you seriously make a stocking that says, ‘Fourth of July’?”
“What about it?” Rosie flung back.
“Other than that you put a summer holiday on your Christmas stocking?” Maybelle snorted, then cut her eyes to the woman on the other side of her who was happily sewing and had been ignoring her friends’ bickering with the ease of long experience. “Ruby, call Doc Evans tomorrow. We need to get our girl in for a checkup. She’s off her meds again.”
Rosie smiled, pretty as you please. “You’re the one who’s off her meds. I know exactly what I embroidered, and it was intentional.”
“You purposely put America’s Independence Day on your Christmas stocking?” Maybelle arched a brow.
“It may be America’s Independence Day, but it’s my anti-Independence Day. Lou’s, too.” She gave a little laugh and flip of her blue hair. “Not that the lucky devil knows yet, but he will after I give him this.
”
“Rosie!” Sophie exclaimed, realizing what her friend was implying.
Understanding dawned in Maybelle’s eyes. “It’s about time you put that man out of his misery.”
“That’s great,” Ruby said. “Being married to the right man is such a blessing, and Lou’s a good one. Not as good as my Charles, mind you, but Lou’s a keeper.”
“I’ll send you my travel agent’s name and number,” Aunt Claudia offered. “You’ll want to start looking at honeymoon spots immediately. I can make a list of travel do’s and dont’s that George and I have picked up over the past year.”
The women continued back and forth. Sophie half-listened, fighting a smile every so often as she helped one of the other ladies attach gold trim to her stocking.
“By the way, Sophie,” Maybelle said, snagging her attention, “Triple B Ranch For Kids called. We’ve added thirty more kids to our list.”
Sophie’s gaze cut to Maybelle’s. “Thirty more kids? At this late date?”
They were already worried about having enough toys and contributions to buy the usual necessities they gave. Adding thirty more kids…Oh, wow.
“Why not?” the older woman asked, clearly not seeing it as a problem. “The ranch asked for help providing their kids with a good Christmas experience. We’ve never turned away anyone asking for help. Why would we start with thirty foster children?”
Rosie, obviously thinking the same thing Sophie was, opened her mouth, then clamped it closed. She and Sophie locked gazes, then both gave little shrugs at the same time.
Maybelle knew about the decreased donations last year. But maybe she knew something they didn’t know and had a reason for not sharing their concerns on having enough gifts for the kids.
Regardless, thirty more kids needed a Christmas morning.
They’d make it work. Somehow.
“Hi,” Sophie said a bit breathily as she climbed into Cole’s Jeep. “Sorry I’m running late. We had several customers, and one needed multiple pieces of material cut. I took care of her order as I didn’t want to leave Isabelle and Thelma in a bind.”
“Not a problem.”
She snuck a look at where he sat in the driver’s seat. He wore a white pullover that loosely hugged his broad shoulders, arms, and chest. She wanted to touch the material, find out for herself if it was as soft as it appeared. The urge was so strong that she slid her hands beneath her legs. Maybe being tucked between her outer thighs and the leather truck seat would help her remember to keep her hands to herself.
He had to sense her watching him, but he didn’t say anything.
“Thanks for doing this with me today,” she told him while buckling her seatbelt then sticking her hands back beneath her legs for safekeeping.
He started the engine. “Just because I’ve dropped my Santa suit off at the cleaners, you thought I’d say no to helping out when there’s a possibility we won’t have enough toys?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She stole another glance at him, realized he was half-grinning. “You’re teasing me.”
His brow lifted. “You think?”
The stress from her busy morning melted away into a giddy fluffiness. Cole was teasing her. She liked his teasing. It made her happy and the smile on her face let him know.
What didn’t make her happy was how worried she was about making sure they had enough donations for the toy drive.
Which was why she’d called her toy drive partner and asked for his help.
“Okay, Mr. Santa Smarty Pants,” she was smiling, “we’ll go around to the businesses that have collection boxes and pick up what’s been donated thus far. We still have almost two weeks before collection ends, but at least we’ll have an idea of what’s come in so far.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, he nodded. “Have you ever not had enough toys in the past?”
“No, but Maybelle just agreed to add thirty more kids to the list. The total number now is higher than it’s ever been before.”
Of course, Sophie agreed with Maybelle’s decision, and would’ve done the same thing. No way could they have said no to helping with those kids’ Christmas.
“Donations were down last year. We had enough, but barely,” Sophie admitted. “Plus, several of the On-the-Square Christmas Festival vendors reported that their sales this year were down from past years. That’s the first time I recall that ever happening, so yes, I’m a little worried.”
“Not sure what the ones in the past were like, but it looked busy.”
“The parade and the tree lighting were hits, as was the whole evening, really,” Sophie agreed. “I don’t think the number of attendees was down, just that people weren’t spending as much money as in past years.”
Cole shrugged. “Maybe they already had all the Christmas stuff they needed.”
“Bite your tongue. A person can never have enough Christmas stuff.”
Cole half grinned. “If you say so, Santa Sophie.”
Sophie practically floated off the SUV’s passenger seat. What was it about the man that a simple smile from him lightened her insides so completely?
And what could she do to return the favor? She wanted Cole to be happy. She wanted…
“Ha. I’m not the one who wore that red suit during the parade,” she reminded. “Do you have a tree, Cole?”
Not glancing her way, he shook his head. “Do you?”
“Of course.” Sophie studied his profile. He looked relaxed and ready to take on whatever she threw at him. “Will you put up a tree?”
“Nope.” He focused on the road as they made their way through town.
“Why not?”
“Why would I?”
“You deserve a Christmas tree, too, Cole.”
He laughed. “Why’s that?”
“Because everyone deserves to enjoy the miracle of Christmas.”
“Not that I buy the idea that a tree is any guarantee that I’ll be able to enjoy the miracle of Christmas, but it’s just another day in my world.”
Sophie gasped, covering her mouth with her hand and shaking her head. “Say it ain’t so.”
Cole laughed at her exaggerated reaction. “When I’m home, I’d rather focus my energy on things other than putting up and decorating a tree just for me. It would be a waste of my time.”
Sophie couldn’t hide her disappointment. His “just for me” echoed through her heart. Didn’t he think he deserved to experience the magic of the holidays?
“Giving yourself the gift of Christmas is never a waste of time. Life is about celebrating every moment, but especially times of goodwill toward mankind.”
“That’s what Christmas is?”
“It’s what it should be.”
He glanced her way. “You seriously think I should have a tree for no one other than myself to see, knowing it’ll just be a bunch of work putting it up and then having to take it down again when I care nothing about having it up in the first place?”
He obviously didn’t think he should, but Sophie nodded anyway.
“I’m positive you should.”
Christmas filled a part of one’s soul in a way that no other time of year did. He just had to embrace the magic to feel its powers spreading joy throughout his being. Cole needed Christmas.
Which made Sophie wonder where his past Christmases as an adult had been spent. Had he been alone? Stationed somewhere on a military base? Or on one of his assignments off base?
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be working on Christmas Day.”
“Actually, it does make me feel better.” Because she wouldn’t be worried about him sitting at home treeless. Everyone should have a Christmas tree. At least they had one up at the firehall. “Wait, you had to work on Thanksgiving Day and on Christmas day, too? I thought the firehall rotated who was on shift for the holiday
s?”
She knew this from Ben’s involvement in church activities over the years. If he worked one holiday, he was always off the other.
“They usually do, but several of us single guys volunteered to swap so those with families can be home with their wives and kids on both Thanksgiving and Christmas day. It’s not a big deal.”
Sophie’s heart swelled at his admission.
“It’s a big deal to the firemen who get to be home with their families, and for the kids whose parents are there when they wake up.”
Her dad had always managed to hold it together on the Christmases he was home, which was likely one of the reasons Sophie liked the holiday so much. Or maybe it was just that it was such a great time of year when everyone seemed to go out of their way to be kinder.
And the decorations. She liked the decorations, too. Especially the lights. The more lights, the better.
“That’s a nice thing to do,” she pointed out. A lot of the things Cole did were nice. Although she suspected “nice” wasn’t an adjective he’d use to describe himself. Having read his journal, she knew the thoughts he associated with himself. They weren’t pretty.
The more time she spent with him the more she believed the things he’d written weren’t really a true reflection of him. Obviously, they had been once upon a time, but the anger and anguish she’d read on those tragic pages weren’t what she saw when she looked at Cole. Weren’t what she imagined him feeling.
Obviously, he had. But not ever again, her heart whispered. Not ever did she want Cole to return to that grim place he’d once dwelled within.
Nor would she let him. She’d surround him with goodness and light so bright, his thoughts would never step in the shadows again.
Which gave her an idea.
“You should come to church with me on Sunday.”
Cole pulled into Lou’s Diner’s paved lot and put the engine into park. “What?”
“On Sunday. Come to church with me.” It was a brilliant idea, one she should have thought of sooner. She clasped her hands together in excitement as she flashed her biggest smile. “Afterwards, several of us are going to the assisted living home to decorate trees for the residents. If you don’t want to decorate a tree for just you, then help decorate a tree for someone who isn’t able to decorate their own tree but wants one all the same.”
