Page 693 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

She put her arms around him and held him tight. It felt good to be needed. If they could just hold each other long enough, maybe the storm would pass.

39

“THE HEART OF HIM THAT HATH UNDERSTANDING SEEKETH KNOWLEDGE.” —PROVERBS 15:4

Grief settled like a blanket of fog over Stoney Creek and residents mourned the loss of their golden quarterback. A double whammy came when Stoney Creek lost the quarterfinals and all hopes of winning the state championship went down the drain. For Sydney and Kendall, it was their own personal losses that welded them together, the merging of two souls that experienced tremendous loss.

For Sydney, the hurt was all too familiar. How many times had she promised herself she would never laugh again, never celebrate another holiday, never open herself up again to hurt? Perhaps she would have had a chance if only time had stood still. But it grinded on and on and she was forced to run along behind it, always trying to catch up.

Before she realized it, Thanksgiving had come.

The aromaof turkey and dressing, mingled with freshly baked apple pie, filled the air as Sydney stepped into Mrs. Fletcher’s kitchen.

“Hey Sydney.” Emma sniffled, looking up. She used the back of her sleeve to wipe away the stream of tears, pouring down her face.

“Emma, it’s okay. You don’t have to cry about it,” Sydney teased. She pointed to the onions Emma was chopping.

“Gee thanks,” Emma said and then started sneezing repeatedly.

“Are those onions causing you to do that?”

Emma shook her head. “No, it’s my allergies.”

Sydney remembered the case of allergy medicine she’d seen at Kendall’s cabin. “It must run in the family. Kendall has bad allergies too.”

Emma cocked her head. “Kendall? Allergies? Humph! Kendall has never had an allergy problem a day in his life.”

Sydney wrinkled her nose. “What?”

“No, he’s the lucky one. I’m the one with all the problems.” Emma motioned to the pan Sydney was holding. “What’s that?”

“Ta da!” Sydney proudly unveiled the cake that Stella had painstakingly instructed her how to bake over the phone. “It’s Mississippi Mud Cake. Kendall said he likes chocolate cake.”

“Wow, that looks good,” Emma said, dumping the chopped onions into a bowl.

“What are you making?” Sydney took a handful of walnuts and stuffed them in her mouth.

“Broccoli casserole, sweet potato casserole, and seven-layer salad.” Emma put a cup of shredded cheddar cheese into the broccoli mix.

Sydney looked at the freshly baked pies, the gigantic bowl of fruit salad, and the mashed potatoes that were heaped a mile high. “What can I do to help? It looks like you’ve already fixed enough food for an army.”

“Well, first you can get me a couple of casserole dishes from the top of the cabinet.” Emma pointed. “On the right.”

“Okay.”She handed a dish to Emma. “Where’s Kendall?”

Before Emma could answer, Mrs. Fletcher came into the kitchen carrying a basket of freshly cut mums. “Sydney, I didn’t know you were here.” She smiled and set the flowers on the counter. She came over and gave Sydney a hug. “How are you doing?”

“Great. I was looking at the leaves on my way over. They’re absolutely breathtaking. I can’t remember the last time I saw an autumn this beautiful. In Texas there are only two seasons. Summer and winter.”

Mrs. Fletcher chuckled. “We’re so glad you could spend the day with us and that Emma and I get you all to ourselves this morning.”

“Where is Kendall, by the way?” asked Sydney.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He and Walter go quail hunting every Thanksgiving morning. It’s a tradition. The men go out and hunt while the women slave over a hot stove.” Mrs. Fletcher laughed. “It doesn’t seem fair, but I can’t imagine having to eat a Thanksgiving meal prepared by Kendall.”

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