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Fighting frustration at her sister’s untimely interruption, Sophie shrugged at Cole’s comment, wondering where to start in explaining Isabelle’s attitude toward him.
Wondering also if she should comment on the almost-kiss, ask him what he’d been thinking, feeling.
She knew what she’d seen shining in those pale eyes.
Eyes she’d once thought of as an icy blue.
They weren’t.
There had been nothing cold about the eyes she’d stared into as he’d caressed her face. They’d been blue fire scorching her insides and flaming her confidence to kiss him. Now, that confidence was gone and looking at him, she wasn’t sure of anything except that his expression was full of regrets.
Oh, Isabelle. Why did you have to interrupt at that precise moment?
“It’s not you,” she began, searching for words to make him understand what she’d never fully understood herself.
Cole snorted. “Maybe you missed it a few minutes ago, but it’s definitely me she doesn’t like.”
“I should have said that it’s about much more than you, personally.” Sophie started over, glancing around the empty dining area. She felt torn, as if she was betraying a secret, but she also felt obligated to attempt to make Cole understand. She didn’t want him judging Isabelle unfairly or making assumptions about her behavior. “Isabelle respects military personnel, past and present. She’s appreciative of all of you, but she doesn’t trust letting any of you get close—to her and most especially to me.”
The confusion on Cole’s face said he didn’t understand. No wonder. She was completely botching her explanation. Taking a deep breath, she went for broke, trying to explain in the most direct way she knew how.
Even if that way hurt.
“My father was in the Army. When we were little, he was gone more than he was home. When I was six, he left and never came back.” She sucked in a deep breath to make up for the lack of breathing while rushing through her explanation.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Sophie winced. “I…Cole, this isn’t easy to talk about. He wasn’t lost in action—at least, not on a battlefield that anyone could see. He was fighting a battle inside his own head that we couldn’t help him with. He left, filed for divorce, and disappeared from our lives. Because of him, Isabelle isn’t keen on having personal relationships with past or present military. And because she’s my big sister and thinks she’s in charge of me, she doesn’t want them for me, either.”
If anyone could understand, Cole would probably be the closest, thanks to what he’d gone through.
His confused expression deepened. “But you’re both involved in your quilts for soldiers organization, aren’t you?”
“Quilts of Valor Foundation,” Sophie corrected. “Isabelle supports me and my work with them because she knows how important it is to me, but she’s never made or donated a quilt to the foundation,” she admitted, sadness hitting her anew at her sister’s resistance to the idea. Sophie firmly believed her sister would find healing in the making of a quilt and wrapping a soldier in it. Believing that was easy, but convincing Isabelle to ever do so seemed an impossible task. “She doesn’t do the sew-ins or that type of thing, but she’s okay with the shop supporting the foundation. We always have at least one sample quilt on display, along with pre-made kits, and information available. Well, you know that,” she laughed a little nervously, “you helped bring the quilts back from the festival booth.”
“I remember. I could see the patriotic fabric display in my head while you were talking.”
“Really?” Part of her wanted to ask what he thought of the display—wanted to talk to him about anything other than her father, and the impact his leaving had had on her and Isabelle. But this conversation needed to be had. Because she wanted him to understand why Isabelle was so distrusting. Mostly, she didn’t want him to not like her sister. That he liked Isabelle was important. “My sister doesn’t mean any harm. She just…”
“Doesn’t trust any military person to stick around because your father left.”
Sophie hated talking about Isabelle’s hang-ups or her father’s choices. Some things just felt as if they were supposed to be kept private. The Davis women always kept quiet about their lives even prior to Cliff Davis’s abandonment.
Talking about him now felt like opening doors that had been kept shut a long time because scary things lurked on the other side.
Finally, she said, “He never wanted to hurt us. That’s why he left, so he wouldn’t. Isabelle has never forgiven him.”
“Have you?”
“Isabelle took his leaving harder than me. Probably because I was younger and had her and Mom showering me with love, making sure I never felt abandoned. Whereas I want to offer every soldier comfort and healing, she sees them all as extensions of Dad.” Sophie sighed. “Any lingering anger I may have had toward him disappeared when I read your journal.”
Sophie glanced around the dining hall, feeling that the space was much too open to be having this conversation.
Sophie took a deep breath, shook off her melancholy, and pasted on a smile. “Help me carry these boxes, please, so we can go join the others. We wouldn’t want to miss being in the group pics.”
“Yep, wouldn’t want to miss that.” His tone implied otherwise.
His phone rang just as they entered the main lobby where the others were gathered. Pulling it out, he glanced down at the number, then excused himself to go outside to take the call.
