Page 3 of Wyatt the Military Veteran

Still, I worry this may be his way of ghosting me from afar, despite the fact that I gave him an out with my first letter.

The thought brings tears to my eyes.

While my friends are enjoying lives full of love with their spouses and children, I’m not even worth the effort of a ‘thanks, but no thanks’ letter from a man halfway around the world—a man who literally wrote that there’s not much else for him to do except read my letters and write back to me.

Blinking back the waterworks, I force a cheerful tone to my letter.

Maybe this will be the one to encourage a response…

***

Dear Chris,

I hope you’re well! I saw your mom on Sunday, and she’s already talking about having you home for the holidays. Sounds like you have a lot to look forward to upon your return to Suitor’s Crossing!

The lodge is preparing for a wedding this weekend, so I’ve been in nonstop communication with vendors and the wedding planner to ensure everything goes off without a hitch.

Do you know Dominic Stone and Avery Monaghan? Avery used to work at Design Time on Main Street. I guess the lodge is special to them because of some event we held here a while back.

It’s sweet how we get to be a part of so many people’s stories, especially when it results in a happily ever after! Sorry if that sounds mushy, but I am in Suitor’s Crossing—a town all about soul mates and heart sparks.

Looking forward to hearing from you. Stay safe!

Kennedy

CHAPTER THREE

WYATT

Thanks for delivering me! :)

That’s what’s written on the back of Dugan’s fifth letter. I know it’s not meant for me specifically, but it feels like it is.

Because you’ve been reading Chris’s discarded letters, pretending they’re for you.

Ignoring the silent jab of my conscience, I study the pretty cursive and smiley face before handing the letter to Dugan. Stickers of woodland creatures decorate the blue envelope this time. There have been positive affirmations, the solar system, flowers, modes of transportation, and now these cute critters. Kennedy must be a teacher or something to have so many stickers on hand.

Or maybe she purchases them special for Chris as a simple way to brighten his day.

A vein throbs in my temple. Dugan doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Kennedy’s letters. Each time he receives one, he rips it open, scans the contents in a quick sweep, then tosses it. And each time, I conjure a reason to hang around long enough to save it from the trash bin without anyone the wiser.

And if I happen to read the letters, too, who’s going to berate me for snooping through another soldier’s mail? It becomes fair game once it’s been thrown away, right?

Keep telling yourself that, stalker.

Thirty seconds after scanning the page, Dugan shoots the balled-up letter in the trash, and just like the past four times, I reach into the bin minutes later and pull out the crumpled paper, waiting to smooth it out until I'm in my room.

As I learn more about Suitor’s Crossing, a town that sounds idyllic and too good to be true, the more homesick I become for a life I’ve never had. One filled with friendly neighbors and quaint traditions versus shuffling between tired foster parents and harried social workers. The only tradition I had was stuffing my meager belongings in a black trash bag before moving on to the next family.

A therapist would probably say that’s why I joined the military—I was looking for stability. Structure. A career and life built upon years of traditions.

“Major Lincoln.” A private nods as we pass in the hall, and I return his greeting before ducking into my room and sitting at my desk. Flattening my prize over the scuffed wood top, I eagerly pore over Kennedy’s latest musings and smile at her enthusiasm about work.

As the event coordinator at her family's lodge, it's obvious how much she loves what she does. She's passionate about people and her town, and it makes me wonder how that would translate into a relationship.

Not that you'll ever know.

Nor will Chris for that matter. He's too busy blowing her off instead of seeing the gem he has right under his nose.

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