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Cole was happy that Bodie had managed to make a good life for himself in Pine Hill but couldn’t help the pang hitting him.
What was Cole thinking? He did not feel a pang of jealousy.
That pang had been nothing more than heartburn from Lou’s chili.
Besides, Cole had made a good life for himself in Pine Hill, too.
Any jealousy he felt toward Bodie would be over Harry. He’d like a dog like Harry.
As if he sensed what Cole was thinking, the dog nuzzled his head against Cole, then licked his gloved hand.
“Everyone does need a snowflake,” Sarah insisted, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Bodie’s cheek.
Nope. That was not jealousy.
“Some folks just don’t realize they need one. It’s our job to enlighten them.” Sarah’s expression said that Bodie could voice no argument that would convince her otherwise. “We’re doing them a favor by selling them a snowflake and adding Christmas magic to their holiday season. Plus, they’re doing a good deed in helping fund church charity projects.” She gave Bodie a pointed look. “Remember that and you’ll do a much better job in selling these snowflakes.”
One side of his mouth hiking up, Bodie turned back toward Cole and Andrew. “Sorry, guys, but you heard the lady. Prepare to be enlightened. You may not realize it, but you do, after all, need a snowflake. Your entire holiday season will be lacking in Christmas cheer if you miss out on these extraordinary, genuine Bumblebee-made, snowflakes.”
“Butterfly-made,” Sarah corrected with an amused eyeroll before turning back to Cole. “But other than that, he’s right. Besides,” she said, directing her gaze to Cole, “surely you want a snowflake as a reminder of the other night, don’t you?” Her eyes twinkled. “Weren’t the sledding and games just so much fun?”
Cole didn’t need a reminder of that night. Far from it.
“Got to help a brother out,” Andrew said, handing over a folded bill to Bodie and taking a snowflake even if he didn’t look as if he knew quite what to do with it.
Cole pulled out his wallet, too. “How about I make a donation and you give the snowflake to someone who really does need it?”
Sarah awarded him a smile, took his money, then gave a sly look. “That’s an excellent idea. I know just who needs one. It would totally make her night. Would you deliver it for me?”
“Say no,” Andrew half-coughed, half-whispered as he slipped Bodie his snowflake back to be resold to raise more funds.
Cole narrowed his gaze at the smiling woman he’d liked until that moment. She wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all him. Maybe she was one of those Butterflies, too, only yo
unger.
“Let me guess, Sophie needs a snowflake?”
“I always did say you military boys were quick to catch on.” Sarah grinned, then turned to choose a snowflake, her gaze pausing only a moment on the snowflake Bodie had rehung, staring at it just long enough to let them know she knew what they’d done.
“Told you to say no,” Andrew said, shaking his head.
Once she’d picked a snowflake, Sarah placed it inside a paper bag, then handed it to Cole with a big smile.
“Thank you so much for your support and for passing on holiday cheer. Merry Christmas!”
Sophie beamed at the two women who’d stopped at her tent and asked for more information about the Quilts of Valor Foundation.
“I’m so glad you asked,” she said, meaning every word. She loved talking about the organization that did so much good. “Back in 2003, Catherine Roberts started the organization after she had a dream about wrapping a dejected soldier in a quilt. Since that time, the organization has awarded thousands of quilts and strives to wrap thousands more around past and present military.”
Sophie handed the woman a brochure and continued to gush a little as she explained the patterns for some of the quilts she had on display. Although Sophie volunteered her longarm services to quilt others’ quilts to be awarded, and though she had several of those at the shop, Sophie had made all the ones she’d brought with her tonight.
“My father was in the Navy,” the older woman said. “He served during World War II. I would love for him to have been wrapped in a quilt.” Memories of her father shone in her eyes. “He’d have loved that. Despite the hardships he faced, he was so proud of his time in the military.”
“My father served, too,” Sophie told her. “Not in World War II, obviously.” She smiled. “He served in Desert Storm.”
And was never the same afterward, according to all who knew and loved him. Still, he’d come home long enough to marry and father two girls prior to taking off for parts unknown.
“Because of his service and the service of those like your father, we enjoy so many freedoms every day.” Sophie smiled. “Our goal is to honor their sacrifice and offer healing with the wrapping of a Quilt of Valor around those touched by war.”
