Christmas In Cedar Cove: 5-B Poppy Lane. Debbie Macomber

had the distinct feeling that she wasn’t going to mind falling, not one little bit.

      Six

      Helen Shelton

      5-B Poppy Lane

      Cedar Cove, Washington

      April 23

      Dearest Charlotte,

      Forgive me for writing rather than calling. It must seem odd, since we’re neighbors as well as friends. It’s just that sometimes writing things out makes it easier to think them through….

      I have some news, by the way. You haven’t met my granddaughter, Ruth, but you’ve heard me speak of her. Well, she was over last week with a soldier she’s been writing to, who’s on leave from Afghanistan. He’s a delightful young man and it was easy to see that her feelings for him are quite intense. His name is Paul Gordon. When Ruth first introduced us, I’m afraid I embarrassed us both by staring at him. Paul could’ve been Jean-Claude’s grandson, the resemblance is that striking.

      For the past few weeks, I’ve been remembering and dreaming about my war experiences. You’ve encouraged me for years to write them down. I’ve tried, but couldn’t make myself do it. However…I don’t know if this was wise but I told Ruth and her young man some of what happened to me in France. I know I shocked them both.

      My son phoned later the same day, and John was quite upset with me, especially since I’d told Ruth and not him. I tried to explain that these were memories I’ve spent most of my life trying to forget. I do hope he understands. But Pandora’s box is open now, and my family wants to learn everything they can. I’ve agreed to allow Ruth to tape our conversations, which satisfies everyone. I’m afraid you’re right, my dear friend—I should’ve told my children long ago.

      Do take care of yourself and Ben. I hope to see you soon.

      Bless you, dear Charlotte,

      Your friend always,

      Helen

      “I want you to meet my family,” Paul said a little more than a week after their first date. They’d spent every available moment together; they’d been to the Seattle Center and the Space Needle, rowing on Lake Washington, out to dinner and had seen a couple of movies. Sitting on the campus lawn, he’d been waiting for Ruth after her last class of the day. He stood when she reached him, and Ruth saw that he wasn’t smiling as he issued the invitation.

      “When?”

      “Mom and Dad are at the house.”

      “You mean you want me to meet them now?” Ruth asked as they strolled across the lush green grass toward the visitors’ parking lot. If she’d known she was meeting Paul’s parents she would’ve been better prepared. She would’ve done something about her hair and worn a different outfit and…

      “Yeah,” Paul muttered.

      Ruth stopped and he walked forward two or three steps before he noticed. Frowning, he glanced back.

      “What’s going on here?” she asked, clutching her books to her chest.

      Paul looked everywhere but at her. “My parents feel they should meet you, since I’m spending most of my time in your company. The way they figure it, you must be someone important in my life.”

      Ruth’s heart did a happy little jig. “Am I?” she asked flirtatiously.

      A rigid expression came over him, betraying none of his feelings. “I don’t know the answer to that yet.”

      “Really?” she teased.

      “Listen, Ruth, I’m not handing you my heart so you can break it. You don’t want to be involved with a soldier. Well, I’m a soldier, and either you accept that or at the end of these two weeks, it’s over.”

      He sounded so…so military. As if he thought a relationship could be that simple, that straightforward. Life didn’t divide evenly into black and white. There were plenty of gray areas, too. All right, so Paul had a point. In the back of her mind, Ruth hoped that, given time, Paul would decide to get out of the war business. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d be content to sit at home while the man she loved was off in some faraway country risking his life. Experiencing dreadful things. Suffering. Maybe dying.

      “You’d rather I didn’t meet your family?” she asked.

      “Right.”

      That hurt. “I see.”

      Some of her pain must have been evident in her voice, because Paul came toward her and tucked his finger beneath her chin. Their eyes met for the longest moment. “If my family meets you, they’ll know how much I care about you,” he said quietly.

      Ruth managed to smile. “I’m glad you care, because I care about you, too,” she admitted. “A lot.”

      “That doesn’t solve anything.”

      “No, it doesn’t,” she said, leaning forward so their lips could meet. She half expected Paul to pull away, but he didn’t.

      Instead, he groaned and forcefully brought his mouth to hers. Their kiss was passionate, deep—honest. She felt the sharp edges of her textbooks digging painfully into her breasts, and still Ruth melted in his arms.

      “You’re making things impossible,” he mumbled when he lifted his head from hers.

      “I’ve been known to do that.”

      Paul reached for her hand and led her into the parking lot. “I mentioned your grandmother to my parents,” he said casually as he unlocked the car doors.

      “Ah,” Ruth said, slipping into the passenger seat. “That explains it.”

      “Explains what?”

      “Why your family wants to meet me. I’ve brought you to my family. They feel cheated.”

      Paul shook his head solemnly. “I really don’t think that’s it. But…speaking of your grandmother, when can we see her again?”

      “Tomorrow afternoon, if you like. I talked to her this morning before my classes and she asked when we could make a return visit.”

      “You’re curious about what happened, aren’t you?” Paul asked as he inserted the key into the ignition.

      “Very much,” Ruth said. Since their visit to Cedar Cove, she’d thought about her grandmother’s adventures again and again. She’d done some research, too, using the internet and a number of library books on the war. In fact, Ruth was so fascinated by the history of the Resistance movement, she’d found it difficult to concentrate on the psychology essay she was trying to write.

      She’d had several days to become accustomed to the idea of Helen’s exploits during the Second World War. And yet she still had trouble imagining the woman she knew as a fighter for the French Resistance.

      “She loved Jean-Claude,” Paul commented.

      Ruth nodded. Her grandmother had loved her husband enough to kill him—a shocking reality that would not have made sense at any other time in Helen’s life. And then, at some point after that, Helen had met her Sam. How? Ruth wondered. Helen said he’d rescued her, but what were the circumstances? When did they fall in love? Family history told her that Sam Shelton had fought in the European campaign during the Second World War. He’d been in France toward the end of the war, she recalled. How much had he known about Helen’s past?

      Ruth could only hope her grandmother would provide some answers tomorrow.

      The meeting with Paul’s family was going well. Ruth was charmed by his parents, who immediately welcomed her. Barbara, his mother, had an easy laugh and a big heart. She brought Ruth into the kitchen and settled her on a stool at the counter while she fussed with the dinner salad.

      Paul