Midnight Clear by Debbie Macomber

Author:Debbie Macomber [Macomber, Debbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Anthologies (Multiple Authors), Short Stories
ISBN: 9780373484515
Google: YcC0Tg7bRTYC
Publisher: Silhouette Books
Published: 2001-10-01T07:52:12+00:00

“I…well, I was…but it was more than that, Abbie.” Colt nervously cleared his throat. “Well…men just don’t cry. At least, I don’t. And I enjoyed the hell out of our kiss.” He closed his eyes momentarily and then reopened them, looking up at the rafters, which were hung with swags of fresh pine and red ribbons. “I didn’t see it coming. One moment I was kissing you and enjoying every second of it. The next thing I realized, this stuff was running down my face.”

Gently, Abbie said, “Do you know what the tears were about?” She thought she knew, but wasn’t going to say. Colt had to give voice to his trauma, not her.

Struggling mightily, Colt looked around. His mouth became a slash. Damn, it was happening again! He could feel that fist of pressure tightening around his heart, and he could feel the heated prick of tears at the back of his eyes. Just Abbie’s voice was triggering all of this. Colt fought his feelings savagely. It seemed like he stood there an hour instead of just a minute grappling with the knot of emotions and tears that so badly wanted to vomit out of him. Finally, he got a handle on himself. Giving her a narrowed look, he rasped, “Yeah…it’s about those missions over in Kosovo.”

Abbie nodded, feeling as if she were walking on fragile eggs with Colt. He looked unhappy, his eyes burning with unexpressed emotions. How many times had Abbie seen this in Ted’s eyes when he would come home after a traumatic mission? This was no different. Taking a huge risk, she walked up to Colt and placed her hand tentatively on his, which was balled into a tense fist at his side.“Sometimes I hate our society, Colt. I see the damage it has done to men and women. Little boys are taught that it’s not okay to cry, to show their feelings or talk about them. And so you go through life believing that if you do have feelings or tears, everyone will think you’re weak and unmanly.” She grimaced. “What a crock. If God hadn’t given you tear ducts and a heart to feel with, that would be one thing. But he did.”

She squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t surprised at your tears, Colt. I can feel such pain and suffering around you. I figured it probably had to do with those missions you were on. All I could hope for was that you might trust me enough to let all that darkness spill out of you, let me be a shoulder to cry on…a set of ears to listen without judgment to what you went through and survived. That was all I wanted.”

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