Page 86 of Mistletoe

Felix had faced the impossible dilemma of betraying his family or lying to his commanding officer. Once Emma’s anger cooled, she’d find sympathy for him, possibly forgiveness.

“You didn’t report Hal,” Agatha said. “That counts for something. Right, Emma?”

“Yes,” Emma reluctantly agreed. Felix kept his word in that regard.

“Thank you for understanding.” He glanced over his shoulder to check on his retreating company. The last one was nearly out the gate. “I have to leave.”

Emma wagged a finger at him. “I’m still hopping mad.”

“I know. I can only beg for your forgiveness.”

“Don’t ask me. Ask Hal,” Emma said.

Every head turned toward the orc, who seemed surprised to be the center of attention. “Give us time,” he said.

Felix shoved the hat back on his head. “I need to catch up with my unit, or I really will be court-martialed.”

In a moment, he was mounted on the horse and leaving. He glanced back, looking remorseful, and gave a small wave.

Emma returned the gesture, still fuming but certain that she’d forgive him. Just not tonight.

Oscar broke the silence. “Do we form a bucket brigade? Is there anything worth saving?” He ran his hands through his hair, staring in the direction of the fire.

“It’s too far gone, Pa.” The bunkhouse was a complete loss.

Agatha took her husband’s hand. “There’s no wind tonight. It shouldn’t spread. That’s a mercy.”

Clover twisted herself around Emma’s feet. She scooped up the cat and buried her face in fur, thankful to hear that rumbling purr again.

The purr did her in.

So much happened so quickly that her body finally caught up. She had been remarkably calm only minutes ago; now, her heart raced. Her breath hitched in her throat, threatening to choke her. With tears in her eyes, Emma turned to Hal.

He opened his arms. She rushed in, cat and all, for the comforting embrace.

“Tell me you are well,” he said, rubbing her back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You’re fine. We’re fine,” she said, voice wobbling.

“Adrenaline crash. It’s normal.”

She sobbed into his chest, cradled against him. Part of her was mortified as she wasn’t a crier. A building was on fire, and she had stood between a literal army and Hal, so the situation was exceptional and tears were allowed.

When her sobs slowed, Hal asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Rattled. Better.” Clover squirmed in her arms and demanded to be released.

“Your lip?—”

“I’m fine. You’ll have to kiss it and make it better.” She tilted her face up, and he obliged.

At some point, Emma grew aware of Nina staring at them. Not in disgust, but intrigued.

Emma stepped away from Hal’s embrace and asked Nina, “Why did you help us? We’re not friends, and you made it crystal clear that you don’t do favors.”

Was it her imagination that Nina flinched, as if hurt by the statement? How odd.

“That base caused me nothing but headaches,” Nina answered. “The soldiers come into town on leave, looking to drink, gamble, and visit brothels, which is all fine and good. Keeps the local economy vibrant.”

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