Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

JILL

Y awning, Jill curled up against her husband’s back, snuggling under the covers beside him, and she flinched as the alarm went off. He grumbled for a moment, hit snooze, and then settled slightly, sighing as she kissed his shoulder blade.

“Why do you have an alarm set when it’s Christmas morning?”

“Cause I’m Santa under this roof,” he chuckled hoarsely, rolling over and putting an arm around her. “Don’t question the why; just enjoy the how.”

“You make no sense before coffee.”

“It’s scary, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes,” she laughed, snuggling against him… only to hear his phone ding. “And now you are getting a text message?”

“Probably Ortega,” he said evasively. “Ignore it.”

“He would do something that ornery, wouldn’t he?”

“Exactly.”

Jill settled down again, determined to sleep in since their down comforter had cocooned them nicely, almost like a warm haven or nest. Yes, between the pillows, the blanket, and her husband – she was downright toasty and had no urge to get up just yet.

And just as she was drifting off to sleep once more, her husband’s phone dinged again. He cursed softly under his breath, kissed the top of her head, and then slid out of bed.

“Rest, Jill. I’m gonna get a shower and see what that knucklehead wants. Can I bring you coffee in bed?”

“I would love that – and yeah, I’m gonna stay right here and steal your pillow, Babe.”

“It’s yours. You never have to ‘steal’ it,” he chuckled, kissing her temple once more before tugging the blanket up to her chin. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said groggily and fell asleep again.

Jill wasn’t sure how long she slept, but when her husband returned with a cup of coffee, the sun was up. His phone had been going off earlier, and it was still dark out, which instantly put her on edge.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly nine.”

“What?” she blurted out in dismay. “I’ve got to make breakfast, and we have guests. Oh my gosh, Babe… how could you let me sleep in like this and…”

“Whoaaaa,” he chuckled softly. “First of all, everyone else has slept in too. Secondly, we have four other very capable adults in this house alone, not to mention the other four— well, three and a half adults who can make their own breakfast while my wife gets some much-needed rest.”

“Three and a half?” she smiled, sitting up and lounging against the pillow as he handed her a cup of coffee.

“Merry Christmas, my love… and happy anniversary.”

“You know our anniversary is tomorrow,” she smiled tenderly, taking a sip of her coffee. This was the same conversation that they had shared nearly twenty times, and each time it was the same. Waiting expectantly, she saw his smile widen as he let out a knowing laugh.

“It might as well be today,” he began, and she joined in, their voices combined as they looked at each other with so much emotion. “Because being married to you is a gift like none other.”

“Happy anniversary,” she repeated softly.

“Gosh, I love you woman,” he breathed emotionally. “Now, get up – and shave your legs.”

Eh?

“What the heck did you just say to me?” she said in disbelief, choking on her coffee. That single sentence was enough of a scratching record in her brain to cause someone to seize up like a porpoise coming out of the water and jumping backward. “How can someone go from so sweet, loving, and romantic… to being an utter troll?”

“It’s a gift,” he grinned and slapped her on the knee through the blanket. “You’ll thank me later. I’ve got you some junk on the counter in the bathroom, too. So, suck that down, get moving, and hurry it up because I’m starving. Hustle, sweetheart.”

He got up and left the room, leaving her sitting there in disbelief and boiling emotions. It was Christmas. It was almost their anniversary. The sweetest man in the world could morph into something so jarring. Throwing back the covers, she dragged her cup of coffee with her as she padded across the floor of the cabin toward the bathroom.

“I’m gonna ‘jar’ him,” she muttered hotly. “I shaved my legs, and it looks nothing like your missing beard and chicken-butt-faaaaa…” her voice trailed off as she stared at the counter of the bathroom in disbelief – and nearly dropped her coffee.

There, beside the sink, was a version of her mother’s pillbox veil that she’d worn during her own wedding. Jill had worn her mother’s yellowed one on her head with a cream-colored dress at the courthouse when they’d married twenty years ago – and unfortunately lost it in the move here. The veil was sitting on a velvet form, stark and beautiful, beaded intricately with tiny sequined flowers on it and beneath it on the counter was a pair of pretty pale blue stockings and a garter to match. A wedding garter with all the ruffles and frippery that would make any blushing bride happy.

He had gotten this for her?

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she dragged in a deep breath and hesitated, seeing a cream-colored dress hanging in a plastic bag behind her on the robe hook. This time, Jill put the coffee cup on the counter before she dropped it, leaning briefly to steady herself and rubbing her eyes.

She wasn’t that young girl anymore. Weight had settled around her middle and backside, her chest had sagged slightly with gravity, and there were frown lines on her forehead from so many nights of worrying about how her husband was doing overseas, waiting for word from him.

Was she dreaming?

Reaching for the gown, she saw that it was fitted at the bodice with a sweetheart collar and flowed with no waist. Her clever, clever man had selected something that would fit no matter what she weighed or how big she got with the baby. He knew she was anxious about her pooch, the pinch-an-inch over her jeans, and was always frowning when she commented on it, but this would make her look like a princess and feel comfortable.

Without hesitation, she set about to get ready. Her husband had a surprise up his sleeve for their anniversary – and she knew it now. If he was having her dress up, she couldn’t wait to see him, and time was wasting!

Less than an hour later, Jill was pinning the veil to her head when she heard a knock at the bedroom door. If someone was knocking, then it wasn’t her husband. Hurrying, she padded barefoot over to the door and opened it slowly, peering around the corner in curiosity only to see a strange boy standing there.

“Well, hello,” Jill said in disbelief. “Where did you come from?”

“The sky,” he replied, smiling up at her, and handed her a long-stemmed red rose. Jill accepted it with something across from horrified disbelief to panic starting to take over. Whose child was this, and where did he come from? Where were his parents? Was she seeing a ghost in her beloved cabin?

“Where’s your Mommy?” she whispered as he extended his hand, waving it pointedly as if to say, ‘I’m waiting’ and then stomped his foot. “Am I having some weird psychotic break…”

And she heard a laugh in the distance.

Then a curt and hushed ‘ shhhh’ from Rose…

“All of you, please be quiet.”

“She’s coming out of there sometime today, right?”

Logan, John, and someone else’s voice carried, bouncing against the walls of her cabin. She hesitated the moment her hand touched the child’s, realizing it wasn’t an angel or a changeling but an actual child belonging to someone who had arrived at her home on Christmas morning.

Why in heaven’s name would someone come… and she paused mid-thought as she rounded the corner of the short hallway. There, in the living room of their cabin, was her husband standing in his dress uniform beside Logan and John. The trio were standing just to the right of a man holding a Bible before him - complete with this arrogant smirk on his face that immediately bothered her. Panic was standing silently a short distance away and kept looking at the pastor. Ortega was standing silently, his eyes on Lena the entire time. Lily, Juliet, Lyndsey, and some strange woman with dark hair were standing on the left – beaming at her.

Rose, Michael, and Griffin were all sitting on the couch in their pajamas, holding a present in their laps and squirming impatiently. It was written clearly on the children’s faces that they had been told to just hold the boxes – and not to open them yet.

“What’s going on?” she whispered in disbelief, her voice hoarse with emotion and confusion. “Are you… are we…?”

“My name is Caleb, and we’re spending the night in a cabin,” the little boy volunteered happily, tugging on her hand. “My Daddy is here to do his thingie with the special book I’m not supposed to touch yet.”

Jill met her husband’s eyes in wonder, seeing the love shimmering in his gaze. Her eyes traveled from person to person in amazement, as she let out a tearful laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. This was extraordinary and her husband had obviously been planning this for a while.

“Mrs. Houghton,” the man holding the Bible began. “My name is Joshua Parr, but my call sign is Paradox. This is my wife, Mallory – and my son, Caleb. My boss is a friend of your husband’s and Panic knows me from my time in Ghazni on the airbase. Harley said you are in need of a pastor to say a few words. I would be honored to speak over you both as you renew your vows – and we brought Christmas presents for everyone to celebrate the Joy of the Season.”

Her eyes met her husband’s once more as he smiled at her.

“So, do you think the prettiest girl in the universe can put up with an ol’ grouch like me for another twenty years?” Her sweet Babe’s voice cracked slightly, and she knew it had to be killing him because he’d always been so proud. For him to have included John and Logan, meant that maybe that bond between the trio went deeper than she ever imagined.

“I would love another twenty years with you,” she whispered and smiled at Caleb. “Are you walking me down the aisle, young man?”

Caleb looked at his father curiously, as he nodded, and Caleb gave a casual shrug, walking her toward them all. Juliet and Lily were dabbing at their eyes, their knowing smiles brilliant. Lena hugged her tightly and so did Lyndsey. As Jill moved to her husband’s side, she looked at each of them in understanding.

“You all knew?”

“Oh yes,” Logan grinned, elbowing John. “We eat this stuff up – breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“Truth!” John chuckled, reaching over to shake her husband’s hand. “Good job, brother. You’ll have to help me pull this off someday…”

“John!” Lily laughed – and Jill saw the affectionate couple share a knowing smile.

“Not me, Dasher,” Juliet volunteered. “I wanna lay on a sandy beach with an icy drink in my hand on some deserted island or cabin over the water.”

“You’re on – and we’ll have the Houghtons or the Griffins check on the kiddos.”

“Just get us to the twenty-year mark without us driving each other nuts, and I’ll be a happy camper,” The other woman, Mallory, spoke up and looked at her husband, raising an eyebrow and giving him a lofty look – to which the man presiding as their pastor, looked at Houghton, smirking.

“You’ll have to share your secret someday.”

“Friendship, trust, and understanding,” her husband said quietly, holding Jill’s gaze. “Everything that matters falls into those three categories, and I’m lucky enough to be married to someone who embodies it with everything fiber of their being.”

“I love you,” Jill whispered tearfully.

“I love you, too – and always will.”

“Then let us begin,” Joshua said, opening his Bible and nodding. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here before God…”