Joanna Sims: A Baby For Christmas

“What do you have?” Sophia peeked into his pocket. “A kitten? You have a kitten? Where’d you get him? Or her?”

Luke leaned his cane against the wall and used both hands to scoop the kitten out of his pocket. “It’s a ‘he.’ Billy suckered me into taking him. That ride from the airport wasn’t free.”

“Ah, yes. I’ve heard about Billy and his strays.” Sophia moved closer, her face delighted. She loved kittens. So had Daniel. “Hi,” she said to the kitten. Then, to Luke, “What’s his name?”

Luke examined the kitten, took in his coal-black fur and his giant golden eyes. Black and gold were Ranger colors. “Ranger.” The name popped out of his mouth, and it seemed to fit.

“Ranger,” Sophia repeated. Daniel had been a ranger in the army. Briefly. “I like it. Daniel would have liked it, too. He loved cats.”

Luke put the kitten on his shoulder. “Yes, he did.” He supposed that was the real reason he had decided to keep the little guy. It’s what Dan would have done.

Luke reached for his cane, accidentally pushed it, and the stupid thing slid down the wall and landed on the ground. Sophia and Luke both eyeballed it. With her hands on her hips, Sophia finally said, “I can get myself down there, but I’m gonna need help getting back up.” She patted her bulging belly with a self-effacing smile. “I’m a little top-heavy nowadays.”

Luke used one hand to hold the kitten on his chest. “I’ll get you back up.”

Sophia tilted her head. “Teamwork, then.” She carefully lowered herself down onto her haunches and picked up the cane. With her other hand she reached out and clasped Luke’s outstretched fingers. Luke braced himself and used the strength of his biceps to bring her up steady and smooth. As he pulled her up, while her eyes were averted, Luke took the opportunity to admire the angles of her beautiful face. How many times had her image kept him company while he was away? He knew her face well. He had memorized every landmark years ago. The slightly upturned tip of her nose, the smattering of freckles across the bridge. The honey tone of her skin that perfectly matched the honey highlights in her long, straight hair. Her full mouth. She had married his brother, but he had seen her first. Fell in love with her on the spot. Had loved her ever since; secretly and from a distance. Always from a distance.

“Here ya go.” Sophia handed the cane over and then scratched the back of Ranger’s neck. “Why don’t you leave him with me while you take a shower? I could use the company.”

Luke had been wondering how the heck he was going to get himself, his bag, and now the kitten all upstairs. Her suggestion sounded like a good one. “What about the whole pregnancy-and-cat thing...”

Sophia waved it off. “Oh, please. We’ll just trim his nails so he won’t accidentally scratch me and you’ll handle all the kitty-box duties. My mom had cats when she was pregnant with me, and I turned out fine. Not to worry...”

“All right.” Luke tried to pull Ranger from his shoulder, but the kitten was determined to stay put. Ranger used his claws to cling to Luke’s overcoat as if it was Velcro.

“Here, let me help you.” Sophia carefully extracted Ranger from Luke’s coat. She held him in the crook of her arm and gave Luke the once-over. She moved her finger up and down. “Why do you still have your coat on, anyway? Here, take it off and I’ll hang it up. No sense in you taking it upstairs.”

Luke shrugged out of the overcoat, glad to have it off, and handed it to Sophia. She nodded her approval and hung it up on the coat rack by the door.

“One more thing,” Luke said with a gruff tone. He checked himself and adjusted his tone. “If you don’t mind.”

“Hmm?”

“Drag my bag over here for me, will ya? I’ll get it on my shoulder from here. I don’t want you lifting it. It’s too heavy.”

“No prob.” Sophia dragged the bag over to Luke. She smiled up at him. “Teamwork!” That smile of hers was rarely aimed his way. It caught him off guard, made his stomach clench in response. Without a word, he bent over at the waist and lifted the bag up with a grunt. Once he hooked it onto his shoulder, he headed up the stairs.

“Take your time,” Sophia called after him. “I’ll just close the door to the kitchen so he has to stay in there with me. We’ll see you when you come down.”

* * *

Luke awakened from his nap, groggy and disoriented. At first he didn’t know exactly where he was; it took him a minute to figure it out. He had no idea how long he had slept. All he knew is that it had been light outside when his head hit the pillow and now it was dark. He reached over and fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table. Then he squinted at his watch. It was still on Afghan time. His fuzzy brain calculated the time difference and figured it was closing in on 9:00 p.m.

He couldn’t believe he had slept so long. Nearly six hours. He had popped a couple of pain pills before he crashed on the bed. Those pills must have done the trick; he usually could sleep for only an hour or two at a time.

Luke hung his legs off the side of the bed for a moment before he slid off the mattress. He stripped off the rest of his clothes, undressed his wound and headed for the shower. He examined the antique claw-foot tub, with unreasonably high sides, and worked out the most practical way to get himself in it. Once in the shower, he pressed his hands against the back of the wall and let the steaming water run down his back. The water stung as it hit the wound, but it was a good pain.

As the water pummeled his skin, Luke’s mind drifted, as it often did, to Sophia. She had surprised him. Honestly, he had expected to find a sniffling, hormonal, wretched woman who spent her waking moments blaming him for Dan’s death. He blamed himself, after all, so why shouldn’t she? If he hadn’t chosen a military life, perhaps Dan wouldn’t have joined the army out of the blue. And if he hadn’t joined, he’d still be alive today.

He’d thought for sure that Sophia would blame him. He had counted on it. Planned for it. But she didn’t seem to. And she certainly wasn’t wallowing and weeping. That was a major relief. There were a lot of things that Luke knew how to do. If he had to jump out of a plane to get the job done, he could do it. If something needed to be blown up, not a problem. But comfort a hysterical female? Not his area of expertise.

Luckily for him, Sophia had her act together. He should have known she would. He had no idea what possessed him to doubt her in the first place. Sophia had always been headstrong, determined and upbeat. In the ten years he had known her, he’d never once seen her let life get her down. It was one of the things he had always loved about her. So had Dan, for that matter. Dan and he had disagreed since they were kids, about everything, all of the time. But they had always agreed about the merits of Sophia.

Out of the shower now, Luke dressed the wound, pulled on jeans and a white undershirt. He was starved. He headed downstairs to raid the fridge and see how Sophia and Ranger were getting on.

Sophia was sitting at the table, writing. Ranger was sitting on the table next to her pad of paper, legs tucked up beneath him, eyes closed. He opened his eyes when he heard the kitchen door open, stood up, stretched into a back arch and then sat down on his haunches.

“Mom would have a fit about that,” Luke said. Sophia knew he meant Ranger sitting on the table.

Sophia wrinkled up her nose. “I know.” She sighed, heavily. “I know. But to tell you the truth, I was so impressed with his determination to get up here, I didn’t have the heart to tell him no.”

Luke remembered Ranger’s valiant escape from the box. He had felt the same way. “He has that effect.” Luke moved to the table and reached out to stroke Ranger’s fur. The minute he touched the little guy, he started to purr.