A Texas Soldier's Christmas

And not a moment too soon, it appeared. At the other end of the hall, a determined Russell Pierce was slapping a jaunty brown felt fedora on his head. In a safari shirt, khaki cargo pants and a worn leather jacket, he bore a striking resemblance to Harrison Ford. With a physical vigor belying his eighty-five years, he was arguing with the night charge nurse, Inez Garcia. “I’m telling you, nice as this visit has been, I have to go close up The Book Nook, and then get home to have dinner with Esther and the baby.”

Wordlessly, Nora directed Zane to take Liam into the community room, where help awaited him. “Hey, Mr. Pierce,” Nora said, sauntering closer.

“Well, hello there, young lady!” he said. “I was just about to call you. The rest of your special order came in.”

“Great.” Nora smiled and gently took his arm, attempting to orient him. “Do you know where we are?”

He looked around. Suddenly confused.

“Laramie Gardens, Home For Seniors,” she said.

He squinted, uncertain.

“Will you let me walk you back to your room so we can take your blood sugar and talk a moment?”

Mr. Pierce hesitated. “I still need to get home to Esther,” he said more urgently than ever.

“I know you miss her and want to be with her,” Nora said softly.

He nodded. Tears glistened.

Nora fought the lump rising in her throat. She put her arm through his, and together, they walked back toward his room.

An hour later, all was calm.

Nora went in search of Zane and the baby, hoping they were still in the community room. Only to hear sounds of what had increasingly become the norm.

“Yes, but it isn’t fair,” Wilbur Barnes said.

“All the activities are female oriented,” complained Kurtis Kelley.

“We want an equal-opportunity holiday around here!” Buck Franklin reiterated gruffly.

“Hey! We gave you fellas ample time to weigh in on the scheduled activities,” the always-elegant Miss Sadie said.

“You all refused,” retired librarian Miss Mim pointed out.

Nora crossed the threshold.

Zane stood in front of the fireplace, a wide-awake Liam cradled in his arms. The two of them were a picture of contentment. Leading Nora to secretly wish for the impossible...

“What do you think, Zane? You’ve got enough distance to lend perspective,” Darrell Enlow, the resident peacemaker, said.

Zane squinted at the group gathered around him. “I’m not sure you want to hear what I have to say.”

“Yes, we do!” everyone cried in unison.

Zane looked at Nora. Figuring it couldn’t hurt to get an outside opinion, she encouraged him with a nod.

He drew a breath, his attention focused solely on the thirty or so seniors gathered around him. “Well, when I hear you argue about whether hand-painting ornaments is an appropriate activity for guys I can’t help but think about all my fellow soldiers stationed around the world right now who are away from their families, who would give anything to be home with their loved ones. In fact,” he admitted, in a low, gravelly voice, “they’d be so damn grateful, they wouldn’t care what they were expected to do as long as they could spend time together.”

The ache in Nora’s throat came back, full force.

This was the Zane she had loved.

The big, strong guy with the heart as vast as the Lone Star State. The man who never let her—or anyone else who was depending on him—down. The soldier who was always ready and willing to render aid to someone else in need.

Who was helping her out with her son, even now.

Several throats cleared. More than one resident dabbed their eyes.

“You’re right,” Wilbur Barnes said finally. “We can do better.”

Zane shifted Liam a little higher in his arms. Her son reacted by resting his blond head contentedly against Zane’s broad chest. “Which isn’t to say I don’t understand your frustration,” he continued empathetically. “The holidays are a time when it’s just as easy to think about what you don’t have as it is to count your blessings.”

How true, Nora thought, aware right now she was acutely cognizant of how much she had missed him. And maybe always would...

“I also know that you-all would feel a lot less lonesome if you were helping someone else,” Zane concluded, his gaze softening as Liam yawned sleepily and cuddled even closer against him.

Smiling down at him, Zane stroked Liam’s downy soft head.

The moment so affectionate, so unexpected, it brought tears to Nora’s eyes.

Zane continued in a tone that was both pragmatic and gentle, “And I’ve got just the idea on how to make that happen.”

* * *

“THAT WAS BRILLIANT, getting them involved with the West Texas Warriors Assistance nonprofit,” Nora complimented Zane, as they walked out to the parking lot. Aware this was beginning to feel like a date, when it most certainly was not, she forced herself to put aside her increasingly warm feelings for the sexy soldier.

He opened the door for her, then stepped back to give her room to settle the sleeping Liam back in his car seat. “My family and the others running it can use the help, especially this time of year.”

Nora straightened and shut the door. To her relief, Liam continued sleeping.

Tilting her head back, she looked Zane in the eye. “I know Bess Monroe, the nurse who runs the rehab unit. I’ll call her tomorrow and see what we can do to set things up between us.”

Zane flashed another flirty grin. “I can help with that, you know.”

Awareness swept through her. Fighting the urge to touch him, Nora took a step back. “I appreciate your Good Samaritan spirit.”

“But?” The street lamps brought out the wheat-gold hue of his hair.

Resisting the urge to run her fingers through the thick strands, Nora frowned. “I can’t go down this road with you again, Zane.” And working closely with him, on anything, would lead to just that. A fact he seemed to know all too well.

He regarded her with barely veiled bemusement. “Our relationship doesn’t have to end badly. In fact—” he shrugged his broad shoulders laconically “—it doesn’t have to end at all.”

Nora tossed her bag into the car. “I think, given the very different things we want in life, that it already has,” she said, casting him a probing sidelong glance. “In any case, Thanksgiving is tomorrow. It will be a very busy day at Laramie Gardens, with all the guests and family coming in.”

“I’m guessing it won’t be a happy occasion for everyone.”