Somewhere The Bells Ring (Christmas) by Beth Trissel

Author:Beth Trissel [Trissel, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2011-11-07T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

“All the way to the top.” Scaling the stepladder beside the aromatic pine, Bailey stretched out her hand to place the magnificent star at the utmost height, ten plus feet off the floor. “There!” She smiled down at Eric triumphantly, her eyes luminous, adorably Scots in her tartan skirt…with no idea how powerfully she affected him. The saying, “fell in love” made perfect sense to him now, though on an instinctive level he felt he’d known her forever.

Masking just how much that unnerved him, he saluted her from the ornate gold sofa made in the style of a fainting couch and leftover from days of old, as was most everything else in the house. “Mission accomplished, Ma’am.”

She returned his salute. “Yes sir, Captain Burke. Now for the rest of the tree.”

She scurried down the ladder and sifted through the box of ornaments Ella had left on the marble top coffee table. Some of the glass balls predated Eric’s childhood and one of the angels originated in the previous century. At their right, the lofty evergreen exuded the fragrance of oranges and Christmases past.

Choosing a red velvet bow, Bailey fastened it around her ponytail. “What do you think?”

“The perfect compliment to the décor.”

She ran her appreciative gaze over the room. “It’s a Christmas wonderland.”

The fire in the hearth crackled cheerily, fresh greens and holly festooned the mantel in between the clock and porcelain figurines and the ancestral portrait of the lovely lady who hung above it, hair up on her head, creamy shoulders displayed above her mid-nineteenth century gown. Greenery decorated every piece of antiquated furniture, and a mistletoe ball hung in the doorway between the living and dining room. Wrapped presents spread over the wide piano, their bright bows glinting in the light.

“I wasn’t at Maple Hill last year,” she said.

“Neither was I.” This festive scene was as far removed from the hard slog through treacherous rice paddies as anything could be.

Eric thought of that hot, humid Christmas in Nam, the mess tent full of homesick Marines, and the jolly lieutenant who’d played Santa Claus to cheer the troops and the injured. All those sweat-soaked and at times bloody days seemed another lifetime ago, but Eric had the leg to show for his efforts and a half dozen medals. A pang ran through him at the memory of the buddy he’d carried to safety who lost both his legs. At least he’d lived. The second man Eric went back for didn’t survive his wounds. Despite all the hardship, though, he missed those friends still living and gone, and the camaraderie he’d left behind. A part of him always would.

Bailey touched his shoulder. “You’ve gotten somber on me. What are you thinking?”

He met the question in her eyes. “Nothing I want to talk about. Ever.”

A sense of understanding passed between them, and she didn’t press him. Some things were just too raw to discuss.

“Upset about me taking over your job?” She asked instead.

He appreciated her attempt to lighten the mood; he was easily drawn into dark introspection.

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