A Soldier's Christmas Read online

  He’d given up on Christmas a long time ago, if he was honest. His parents had both passed away when he’d been overseas, about six years ago. His parents were older than most; his mom had been in her forties, his dad in his fifties when they had him. He missed them, and Christmas hadn’t felt the same since, but, for some reason, he suffered more this year than any other. And that was why he followed his heart rather than his head when he arrived in town.

  He sighed, and continued to admire the town when he spotted the bed and breakfast that he’d made a reservation in—it was across from where he stood. Good parking on his part.

  The B&B looked bigger than he first thought it was when he’d found it online, and they’d certainly gotten into the spirit of Christmas. Outdoor lights decorated the wraparound porch, both on the ground and first floors. A large Christmas wreath was front and center on the upstairs balcony, and a smaller one was displayed on the entrance to the B&B. Overall, it looked cozy and welcoming. He’d check in soon, but first, he wanted to walk around the town that Emma called home.

  He must have only taken a few steps when the smell of cinnamon hit his senses. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Cinnamon reminded him of Christmases from his childhood when his mom would have Christmas candles burning throughout December. Another memory was of his mom baking cinnamon snickerdoodles because she knew that they were his favorite Christmas treat. He loved all kinds of Christmas cookies, but the snickerdoodles were his favorite.

  “Are you alright, young man?”

  Logan snapped his eyes open and met the concerned gaze of an elderly lady. She was bundled up for the weather and her cheeks were rosy from the brisk air, but she had a look of concern on her face.

  What an idiot he was, standing on the sidewalk with his eyes closed. “I’m fine.” Logan smiled. “I just caught the scent of cinnamon and it reminded me of my mother.” He felt like he owed the lady an explanation.

  “That will be the bakery.” She pointed, and when his eyes followed, they widened when he spotted the display in the window.

  He glanced back at the woman, and gave her a sheepish smile. “I think I need to head over there.”

  She chuckled. “I’m not surprised. Tell Louise that Betty sent you.” She winked, and made her way down the sidewalk.

  He moved over to the bakery window and delighted in the choice of baked goods available. It had been so long since he’d had them that he had no clue what he’d buy first. He’d probably make himself sick.

  There were cookies in all shapes: angels, Christmas trees, snowmen, stars, and they even had a large gingerbread house. The Christmas lights around the displays made everything look even better. And as he stepped inside, it was as though he’d taken a step back in time, as though he’d, maybe, stepped into a Charles Dickens novel.

  “Can I help you?”

  He cleared his throat, and read the nametag of the woman standing behind the counter—Louise.

  “Um, I think so. Betty sent me in here.” He stepped up to the display, and returned Louise’s smile.

  “My mother,” Louise chuckled. “She sends all new faces to my door...what can I get you?”

  There was too much to choose from. “It’s been a while, so I’m not sure what I want.”

  “Is it just for you?”

  He paused, wanting to say no. But until he’d met with Emma, his answer would have to be, “Yes.”

  “Okay, then. How about I give you a selection of the smaller ones?”

  Logan smiled. “I’d like that.”

  Within minutes, he was back on the sidewalk with his sugary treats, boxed and tied with a ribbon, in his hand. He stood in front of the town square that Emma had described as a winter wonderland and grinned as the Christmas spirit started to fill him. Her description had been so accurate. The huge Christmas tree in the center with the nativity scene to one side was spectacular, and he was sure any child who saw it would be giddy with excitement. Just seeing the square and the town itself assured him that he’d made the right decision to visit, even if nothing followed with Emma.

  He was in town, so he had to decide how to approach Emma. Should he pretend to be someone else and bump into her in Elizabeth’s Emporium? He knew she worked there part-time, but he had no idea what her shift was. Or should he just follow the return address on her letters, and show up unexpectedly? His gut told him that she wasn’t married, but he had to be certain before he screwed up.

  He’d never had mixed feelings about something before, and he wasn’t sure that he liked it. He was used to being a man of action, which told him to just go for it—to stop pissing around and go get his girl.

  He rubbed his brow where a headache was taking root thanks to his jumbled emotions, and probably the cold weather. Tomorrow would be a new day, he could decide what to do then. But he knew himself, and he would probably have another restless night thinking about his Emma, and wondering whether she thought about him.

  Chapter 4

  Until her soldier stopped writing to her, Emma had never felt so lonely. She could talk to Logan about anything and, instead of laughing off her ideas, or telling her to do something ‘proper’ like her parents had done, he’d encouraged her to follow her dreams.

  He’d made her feel like anything was possible and, with his encouragement, she’d taken his words to heart and followed her dreams. Logan was the only person to know that she’d made the New York Times bestseller list in fiction. He was also the first person she wanted to tell when she discovered that she’d made the Wall Street Journal list as well. Her books had taken off beyond her wildest dreams, and Logan was the only person to know about her true passion for writing.

  Before she’d started writing to Logan, she’d talked with her family about her writing and mentioned that she thought she’d try self-publishing. They’d more or less laughed in her face and told her not to embarrass herself. Well, not in those exact words, but certainly along those lines.

  She’d confided in Logan about her dream and told him how her family had reacted. He’d seemed annoyed that they would treat her the way they had, and he’d encouraged her and never once seemed to doubt her.

  Emma’s family still had no clue as to what she did in her spare time. At first, she’d kept it to herself because of the lack of support she’d received from them, but once her books had taken off, she had no idea how to tell them, so she’d kept it quiet.

  Her pen name was R. Logan, and it made her feel close to the man who’d offered her encouragement, not ridicule. Support, never putting her down or making her feel inadequate. Logan was touched when she’d asked him permission to use the name, R. Logan for her books, and he was the only person to have a full set of signed copies from her.

  She sighed, and stretched on the sofa where she’d been lost in thought instead of concentrating on the Christmas movie that was on the TV.

  Outside the snow was falling, so when she’d gotten up, she’d showered and pulled her pajamas back on to spend a cozy day holed up indoors. She loved the snow but had no enthusiasm for it at the moment.

  “You need to get dressed instead of lounging around the house.”

  Emma groaned. “Mom, the weather is really bad outside. No one is going to visit today, so why does it matter if I stay in my pajamas? I’ve showered at least.”

  Her mom took the seat opposite, and looked worried. Her brows were drawn together into a frown and her hands twitched in her lap. It was as though she had something to say but didn’t know how to say it.

  “What’s wrong now?” Emma sat up and waited. She was getting tired of the constant interference, which was why she was desperate to move. Her parents hadn’t always been so annoying, but lately, they had been at her constantly. It had been so bad that it even crossed her mind that she had the problem and not them.

  “Honey,” her mom hesitated, “I know you’re upset the soldier hasn’t written to you, but you need to get out of this sadness. It isn’t like you to be so down. You’re usually the one maki
ng sure everyone else is happy.” Her mom sighed, and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It’s as though you’ve had your heart broken, and I don’t, for one minute, believe it was Seth who did the heartbreaking.”

  Emma felt raw emotion run through her because her heart had been broken, and all she wanted was to cry on her mother’s shoulder. Instead, she inhaled and admitted, “I don’t want to talk about Logan.” That was a lie because she was totally consumed with him, and felt as though her insides had been ripped out.

  “Why don’t you go and get dressed? I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows and we can sit and watch the snow together. They’re your favorite, right?” Her mom smiled and, before Emma could answer, dashed into the kitchen.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that she was no longer a child, and that she planned to move out—she was too old to be living with her parents at twenty-Seven.

  The cursor on her laptop blinked repeatedly while Emma sat at the desk in her bedroom. She had drained the cup of hot chocolate a couple of hours ago when she’d sat down at the screen. The page had been blank then and was still blank now. Words wouldn’t come for the first time since she’d started to write, her head and heart not able to clear the unhappiness that she’d been feeling since she realized that Logan wasn’t going to write back. Sure, she’d managed to get some writing done in the last few weeks but now, it seemed too difficult.

  She had numerous works in progress, but couldn’t settle on one. She really shouldn’t let Logan’s silence affect her as much as it did, but she had no idea how the hell to pull herself out of it. She’d started to drive herself nuts, and not in a good way.

  Perhaps she needed to write to him. Not send them, but write what she was thinking with his silence. Put it all down into a diary. Write about her heartache over her loss of his friendship. And perhaps write how she truly felt about him because her heart had certainly been involved.

  Was there something wrong with her because she’d fallen in love with a man she hadn’t really set eyes on? The picture she had of him was grainy, taken with a cell phone, and all she could really make out were his eyes. His beautiful eyes really stood out. They were a deep blue and like nothing she’d seen before. A girl could get lost in them, and she had.

  She had to stop dreaming and take action, do something.

  Closing the lid of her laptop, Emma grabbed her diary and her favorite pen, before lying on her bed. She flipped the diary open to the back where there was a tablet of lined paper and let the words flow from her heart.

  Chapter 5

  Logan stood outside on the porch and watched the thick flurries fall to the already covered ground. Nobody would be going anywhere, at least, for a while. But as he watched, the cold started to seep through his warm fleece and chill his body. Eventually his face felt frozen and he knew it was time to head back inside. He had no idea how long he’d stood out there, but the fresh air felt good, and it reminded him of Emma. She loved the snow. Would she be out sledding, because he knew how much she loved that? He’d love to go sledding with her. He couldn’t remember ever doing that as a boy, and he certainly hadn’t gotten the opportunity as an adult.

  Turning, he walked back into the B&B and felt a blast of heat warm his body straightaway as he stamped his numb feet against the mat in the entrance.

  “Are you ready for breakfast?”

  Logan focused on the voice and smiled. “I think I am now. Thank you.”

  Adele, the owner, turned and led him through to the dining room.

  Inside, he looked around the Christmas themed dining room. The tables had been covered in red and white-checkered tablecloths. A Christmas tree stood in one corner and was full of handmade decorations, which hit him with a sense of nostalgia. When he was a young boy, every Christmas, his mom would buy art supplies and they’d spend a few nights, after homework was finished, making decorations for the tree.

  “Would you like to sit over there?” Adele offered, and he accepted by making his way to the chair.

  Adele looked to be in her late fifties or early sixties and he wondered if she’d ever been in law enforcement because her interrogation when he’d checked in yesterday had been difficult to ignore. She’d asked a lot of questions in a roundabout way, but, luckily, he’d been able to ignore them. Something told him that he wasn’t going to be so lucky over breakfast.

  “Thank you.” He sat at the table next to the tree and smiled when she poured him a large cup of coffee.

  He was partial to the dark brew and was used to drinking the thick sludge they served in the mess tent. As he drank the strong coffee, he felt his insides begin to thaw out.

  “No cream or sugar?” Adele raised a brow.

  “No, ma’am.” He took another sip of the steaming brew.

  Adele’s face lit up. “Please say that again.”

  “Ma’am.”

  Adele sighed.

  “I could listen to you calling me that all day. I bet that charm works with the ladies.” She put her hand to her chest and fluttered her eyes, “If only I was ten years younger.”

  “Try thirty, Mom.”

  Logan chuckled as Adele’s son, Greg, came up behind her.

  She swatted at him. “I’ll go and bring your breakfast out. Full American?” she questioned.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Oh.” She fanned herself on the way out of the room.

  Greg dropped into the chair opposite. “Do you mind?”

  Logan shook his head.

  “Ignore my mom. She loves theatrics.” Greg grinned.

  “Was she ever in law enforcement?” Logan couldn’t resist asking. His voice held a trace of amusement as he drank from his cup of coffee.

  Greg paused for a minute and roared with laughter. “I take it she tried to get your life story when you checked in.”

  “She did. She was good too.”

  “I bet she was, and no, she’s never worked in law enforcement. But she does spend all her spare time watching re-runs of Murder She Wrote. She imagines everyone has something to hide.”

  “Well, she’ll be disappointed to discover that I’m boring.”

  “Here you go.” Adele placed his breakfast in front of him just as his stomach rumbled. “And a fine young man like yourself isn’t boring. I’m sure there’s something that I can uncover.” She winked, and walked away.

  Logan shook his head at the spirit of the woman, and started to eat his breakfast while Greg seemed happy enough to just sit and keep him company.

  Greg was around his own age, and, with his over long blond hair and whisker-covered jaw, would probably be a hit with the ladies. A wedding band was missing, but that didn’t mean anything with a guy, although, if Logan were married, he’d be sure to wear his ring. He’d want the world to know that he was married to the woman he loved. Emma.

  “You married?”

  Greg laughed. “More blunt than my mother, she has a subtleness about her that catches most people unaware. And the answer is no. Never. You?”

  “Never.” But he hoped to be in the near future.

  “There aren’t that many single girls around here. Usually when they get to a certain age, they leave for college and don’t bother coming back.” He shrugged. “There is one special lady, but she’s damn stubborn.”

  “Aren’t all women stubborn?” Logan shoveled the hash browns into his mouth, and savored the taste. They were delicious. In fact, the breakfast was an experience, and it was obvious that whoever cooked was proud of the food they made.

  “They are, but this one is…well, she’s giving me the run around.” Greg leaned in close. “We had a couple of nights together and now she’s not interested. If you ask me, her mom has said something to her. Her mom had a bad fall a while back and is still struggling to get back on her feet, which is why Anna came home.”

  “Have you asked her what’s going on?” Logan asked, and wondered why he couldn’t keep his mouth shut instead of sounding like a girl. Guys did
n’t shoot that shit, right?

  “I will. Let’s get back to you.” Greg smirked, and Logan realized he caught him. He’d been avoiding talking about himself. “A man who looks like he belongs in the military suddenly arrives in town, and doesn’t know how long he’s planning on staying. I’m curious. I told my mom to leave it alone, but I have you pegged. You are a soldier or recently out.” He raised a questioning brow.

  Logan nodded. “Current.”

  “Hmm, so what are you doing in our small town?”

  Logan stayed silent.

  “I’m guessing you don’t have family around here because you’d be staying with them.”

  “Correct.”

  Greg chuckled. “I’ll find out. I always do.”

  “Not until I’m ready for anyone to know.” Logan pushed his empty plate slightly away from him, and drained his cup of coffee. “Thank you for keeping me company over breakfast.” He stood. “Tell your mom that was the best cooked breakfast I’ve had, and I’ll see you around.”

  He patted the guy on the shoulder on his way past to let him know that he wasn’t offended by his questions.

  He was impatient to start his day, and needed to find a way of getting out to the farm where Emma lived.

  Over breakfast, he’d been tempted to ask Greg about the Kellers, but that would tip his hand as to why he was in town. The last thing he needed was for word to get back to Emma that a soldier was in town asking about her family before he’d had the chance to talk to her himself…if he decided to approach her. He knew more than anyone did about her, except what she really looked like or felt like to the touch.

  The weather had let up some, but Logan had been advised not to venture out in his truck until the main roads had finished being cleared. Apparently, the locals didn’t listen to this advice because there were people about, and some appeared to be doing last minute Christmas shopping. One or two women that he’d watched while he drank more coffee had come out of a couple of the stores with neatly wrapped presents under their arms.