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Although, she supposed he could hire someone to help during his firehall work shifts. Really, what did she know about farming? She’d lived in the house off the square her entire life, and they’d never even had a garden.

Sarah nodded. “I’m glad the sheriff’s department has more regular work hours. Of course, Harry’s right there with Bodie in his patrol car.”

Sophie sighed. “Harry makes me want a pet.”

“Every animal makes you want a pet,” Sarah teased before she asked, “Have you seen your cat recently?”

“Ha. Every night, but only from a distance. You’d think after I risked life and limb—limb, ha ha—that the cat would love me, but no, he’s still playing hard to get. The closest I’ve gotten to him was in that tree—and sitting a few feet away on the front porch while he eats my friendship offerings.”

“Bless him.” Sarah patted her hand. “And bless you for taking care of him. He’ll come around.”

“You’d think he would trust me. I’ve been feeding him for almost a month.”

“Sometimes it takes a while to build trust. Be patient. With the cat,” Sarah’s gaze cut to Sophie, “and with Cole.”

“I told you we’re just acquaintances,” Sophie insisted.

“I know what you said,” Sarah gave a knowing smile, “and I know what I said.”

Be patient, Sophie thought later that night, sitting on her bed.

She hand-stitched a block together for the Quilt of Valor she was making, pushing the needle through the navy material and pulling it to the other side, then repeating the process over and over. Most of the blocks were machine-sewn, but the very center one, she’d decided she wanted to hand-piece.

The personal touch was important to her. She could be patient for this and put in the extra, time-consuming effort, even if patience wasn’t her virtue.

Which made her smile as the memory of Cole saying her virtue was joy flashed through her mind.

She’d had a great day, a day truly filled with being thankful for all her many blessings. Still, she couldn’t say she felt particularly filled with joy just now.

Because she was preoccupied wondering about Cole.

She regretted not inviting him to Aunt Claudia’s Thanksgiving dinner. Which was silly. Why would she have invited him? Why would he have accepted? He’d barely even met her aunt.

Then again, her uncle and aunt’s home had always been open to anyone and everyone during the holidays, whether family or friend. No one would have said anything had Cole attended other than to welcome him with open arms and a big plate of turkey and dressing with all the fixings.

Okay, so Sarah and Isabelle would have questioned her, and Maybelle would have given a raised eyebrow or two, but other than that…guilt nagged at her.

What if Cole had sat home alone? How awful was that? That someone who’d put their life on the line defending her freedom and safeguarding her ability to gather with family and friends might have had to spend the holiday by himself?

No one should be alone on the holidays, especially not someone who had risked his all and given such big chunks of himself for his country.

Guilt ate at her. Why hadn’t she invited him?

Isabelle wouldn’t have been happy, as she worried Sophie was getting too invested. But her sister wouldn’t have wanted Cole home alone on Thanksgiving anymore than Sophie would hav

e. Isabelle had a good heart, even if she was all business most of the time.

Sophie pushed the needle into the fabric—then, not able to stand inaction a moment longer, she set the quilt to the side and reached for her phone.

Should she call Cole and wish him a happy Thanksgiving?

Why did her belly knot at the thought? Maybe she’d just text him instead, let him know she was thinking about him and hoped he’d had a good holiday.

That didn’t quite feel right, either. What she really wanted was to give him a smile.

And, as she often did, she gave in to the impulse to do just that.

Chapter Eleven