A Soldier's Christmas (2 page)

Two days after arriving back in the States,
Logan found himself in Boston with a belly full of nerves at the thought of
seeing
his
Emma.

Instead of a rental, he chose to purchase a
truck. He had no idea when he would be heading back, whether it would be in a
few days or just before he had to report back for duty in three weeks. He’d
bought a one-way ticket so he could travel whenever he needed to. It would take
him a couple of days to drive back to base, but he didn’t mind. He wasn’t
deploying again, and the purchase of his new truck was the start of him creating
something permanent in his life.

He wouldn’t be a drifter anymore. He’d
settle down and, hopefully, find a good woman to settle down with. That thought
had
his
Emma popping back into his
head, although she was never very far from it. As he drove toward her small
town, outside of Stowe in Vermont, he hoped that he wasn’t making the biggest
mistake of his life.

Once he’d gotten the idea into his head, he
hadn’t really stopped to think. It had briefly passed his thoughts that perhaps
she finally opted to settle down with the guy she was dating, although Logan
knew that she would have settled if they’d married. The way she talked about
the guy told him that they weren’t suited. The guy was an idiot if he thought
Emma would sit around and take his shit for long. She hadn’t told Logan much
about the relationship, but he read between the lines and knew that Emma’s guy
didn’t give on any issue. It seemed to be all about him taking, and doing what
he wanted without any regard for Emma.

His
beautiful Emma.

Logan had no idea about what he was going
to do when he arrived in town. He’d thought about watching her from afar to see
how she was before he introduced himself. If she was with another man, or
seemed happy, he would leave without ever bothering her. But, the more he
thought about it, the more he wanted to meet her.

He wanted to come face-to-face with the
woman who he was certain held his heart. No matter how much he’d tried to rationalize
things—how he didn’t even know her…how he couldn’t possibly connect to
her that way—the thoughts wouldn’t leave him. That was why he needed to
meet her. He hoped this trip either cured him of his dream about her, or the
dream became so much more. He had his heart set on the latter, but who knew how
that would work out.

He shook his head and focused on the snow-covered
roads. The first town after Boston—covered with deep snow—Logan stopped
long enough to have the tires checked to make sure they matched the weather.

After about an hour, he made a right turn, and
found himself on the main street through town. He smiled as a feeling of warmth
filled him; the town felt like…home. Everything was familiar and he owed that
familiarity, to how descriptive Emma had been when she wrote about it—from
the snow-lined sidewalks to the lights that twinkled in the trees along the
side of the road. He came to a stop in a parking space in front of Coffee &
Books, a brick and mortar bookstore. He found the store was another reminder of
Emma. The paperback books that she’d mailed to him had been his bible during
the lonely evenings on base.

Grabbing hold of his cell from the drink
holder, and his hat and gloves from the passenger seat he jumped out of his
truck.

The air froze as it left his mouth, and he
was glad that he purchased a new coat and winter clothes. It was freezing and
the sun was just starting to set, so he was positive it would get a lot colder.
He hurriedly put his hat and gloves on before he stepped onto the sidewalk, and
then he gazed around him. The town was beautiful, and he felt some of the
excitement of Christmas returning.

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.

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 making 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.