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Sophie might not have her tree up at home, yet, but the shop looked amazing. She’d stayed late several nights putting up more decorations for the town’s biggest Christmas event. For their window display, she’d done a red pillows-and-fabric fireplace display by pushing two thin shelves together and running a board across the top where she’d placed a row of brown and gray fabric bolts turned on their sides to look like layered bricks as a mantle on which she’d hung several of the stockings she’d made for her class. Next to it, as a tree, she’d created a Christmas-fabric-and-pillows display that she’d placed on a tall tiered triangular-shaped shelf that had the shape of a tree. She’d even put a giant bow on top and draped it downward. A Christmas quilt was draped over a wooden rocking chair in front of the “fireplace.” She’d been quite pleased with the overall look.

She loved how every business on the square decorated. The overall effect was a Christmas-card-worthy square that she was proud to be a part of.

As for their personal, family tree, she’d recruit her mother and Isabelle to help, and they’d get their tree up at home soon.

“You’re lost in thought. Wouldn’t be thinking of a certain firefighter, would you?” Sarah interrupted her thoughts.

Sophie felt heat rush to her face, then shook her head. “I was thinking about the shop and the parade and tree lighting this weekend. I hope I’ve done enough decorating. It’s important for every business to show our support for such a great community event.”

“Are you kidding me? I was in there yesterday buying fabric and was blown away by the window display that Isabelle told me you’d designed. Girl, it looks amazing and should be on a magazine cover.”

Sophie beamed. “Thank you. I love coming up with different ways to display our fabrics and sewn goods for sale.”

“Do you need me to do anything to help with the booth Saturday night?”

Sophie shook her head. “You’re already volunteering with the ornament hunt for the kids and the snowflake sale for the church. The last thing you need to do is volunteer to work the Quilts of Valor booth, too.”

“Well,” Sarah smiled, “that booth is near and dear to both our hearts. I want to help get word out.”

The organization had brought Bodie into Sarah’s life after she’d donated a quilt that had been awarded to him. He’d come to town to thank her and had stayed to fall in love. Sophie’s experience with the organization had been no less impactful. Her efforts had saved Sophie’s life in many ways as making those quilts for soldiers had helped her to deal with her father’s PTSD. She’d been so helpless while he’d been struggling, but by making the quilts, she could feel as if she was giving back, could even hope she could make a difference to other military personnel in ways she hadn’t been able to help her father. If only she’d been old enough to have made him one back when he’d needed it most, the lovingly sewn fabric could have wrapped him in love.

“When Bodie and I finish working our shift selling snowflakes, we’ll stop by in case you need a break.”

“Deal,” Sophie agreed, grateful she had such a good friend to help promote the wonderful foundation. “I bet y’all will sell out again this year. If I don’t make it by prior to you getting low, save me three.” She always gave one of the handmade snowflakes each to her mother and sister and held one back to someday use on a tree in the house she’d eventually get. “I just love them.”

“I’ll pick you out some while we’re setting up the displays and put them aside,” Sarah promised. “By the way, Bodie went out to your fireman’s place for a while yesterday to look at his floors.”

“Cole’s not my fireman, but that’s great.” Sophie fought to keep all visible signs of her interest at a minimum.

“Yeah. He says Cole has a great farmhouse that’s sitting on the prettiest piece of land, even has a pond where he offered to let Bodie fish whenever he wanted to get away. I think my fiancé might have been a little jealous of the wide-open space.”

“I seriously doubt that since Bodie has you, Harry, and Hamilton House.” The bed and breakfast didn’t have acreage but did boast a huge yard that was more than enough room for Harry to stretch his legs.

“Cole invited him to bring Harry back anytime, whether he was home or not. He said that Harry had the best time running and chasing birds.” Sarah smiled. “The farm next to Cole’s has cows and apparently Harry didn’t know quite what to think of them and kept wanting to herd them even though to our knowledge he’s never been around cows—or any livestock at all—in his life.”

Picturing the dog herding the cows, Sophie laughed. “I guess it’s instinctual for Harry to want to herd them.”

“Must be,” Sarah agreed. “Anyway, Harry liked Cole, and so did Bodie.”

“I’d say Bodie understands Cole in ways you and I never could.”

Sarah’s smile faded. “Because of what you read in Cole’s journal? Is it similar to the things Bodie went through?”

Sophie shrugged. “Maybe.” She didn’t know specific details of Bodie’s military stint. On Cole’s end, he’d probably say she knew too much. Maybe she did, since it put him so on guard with her.

“Does he ever talk about his time in the service?” Sarah asked.

“Not to me, but then he wouldn’t. We’re just acquaintances.” She wanted to say “friends,” but she wasn’t sure they were even that. He’d been very clear that he didn’t want to be—but she had a little bit of hope that she’d started to change his mind. The longer she went without hearing from him, though, the more that hope was shadowed by doubt. Did friends have walls the height of Cole’s? “Did he mention anything to Bodie?”

“Not that Bodie told me, but he wouldn’t have said anything if he believed Cole wouldn’t have wanted it repeated.”

Respecting and understanding that, Sophie nodded. “Those military guys stick together.”

“Bodie plans to go back to help him with a few things that are two-men jobs. He was laughing that they were going to have a good, old-fashioned barn raising this spring with some of the guys from the firehall, too.” Sarah laughed. “I’m not sure if building a barn means Cole plans to start farming or what.”

Sophie was grateful Bodie and Cole had hit it off and tried to imagine Cole farming. She could see him out, working the land, and drawing pleasure from his fields yielding crops. It was easy to imagine that he’d find the process soothing, a renewing of life.

“It might be difficult when he works twenty-four-hour shifts at the firehall,” she mused out loud. “At least, it would be difficult if he intends to have animals.”