Read Online A Weldon Family Christmas: A Southern Steam Novella (Weldon Brothers) by Jennifer Saints - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Saints
Tags: Romance, Christmas, alpha male, love, vietnam, southern bad boy, southern steam, weldon brothers, novels alive
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bad. From the looks in their eyes. From the screams of their nightmares in the hospitals. And from the stories of evil that kept creeping to the surface. War gave the depraved a license to kill and the power to reign. It could also steal the heart of good right out of a man.
Like John. She wondered how he was. Had he gotten her letters? Were they having a decent Christmas dinner at his outpost? She thought back over every minute they’d shared from the moment her gaze had connected with his across the Christmas Party in Saigon. The time they’d been together had been almost nothing, but the connection between them seemed stronger than anything she’d known before. And his kiss...that had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Suddenly the helicopter rocked violently, knocking her into Ginny and smoke billowed into the cockpit. Dear God! Help! Eyes wide with terror, Ginny grabbed for her, screaming, but Emma couldn’t hear anything but the roar of the engines.
Emma’s stomach lurched sickeningly as the helicopter began to spin. They were going to crash. She was about to die, and her one regret was that she hadn’t had more time with John. Maybe she should have stopped him from leaving the Christmas party. Or have asked him to stay longer the next day. She wished she had kissed him again. Had held him longer. Had been able to gaze into his eyes one more time.
Present Day
“M om?”
Emma blinked as James reached over and shook her shoulder. She looked down to see that she’d eaten most of the hamburger. She set the last bite down, her stomach still careening from the memory of the crash.
“You’re as pale as a ghost. I’m sorry my questions sent you back to a bad time. You don’t have to say more. I think I get it. In the middle of a war, facing death every day, I can see how you and Dad fell in love so quickly.”
Emma clasped her necklace charm, feeling the cool, hard metal of the Huey press into her palm. “That Christmas was made up of my greatest highs and my lowest lows.”
“Mrs. Weldon.”
Heart thudding, Emma turned to see John’s nurse. She shot to her feet.
James was already crossing the room. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Vietnam
December 1971
J ohn woke on Christmas morning, surprised to find he’d slept through the night. It had been a long time since he had. It was Christmas Day and Emma’s letters were stored next to his heart. He had to read them again. Her words last night had weighed on his heart. He barely made a sound as he slipped from his bunk to face the early morning light streaming through the jungle foliage. Fingers of steam drifted upward as the humid heat beamed in with the rising sun. The scents of coffee and Christmas dinner teased his senses, making his stomach ache with an eager anticipation he’d thought forever lost. He hurried to his favorite spot. He wanted to hear Emma’s voice in his mind again before the day’s toil began. A Christmas ceasefire had been called, but rather than lessening his sense of doom, it only made it stronger, like a heavy weight pressing upon his chest, making it almost impossible to draw an easy breath.
They were in a horrific war with no front line where success was measured by the number of dead and the sanctity of life had lost all meaning. A ceasefire meant nothing. For the only soldier who ever believed a word of what the enemy said was a dead soldier.
Even though he’d read them once, his heart still thudded like a boy on his first date about to kiss a girl. He inhaled the lavender scent with relish as he focused his gaze in her flowing letters.
Dear John,
I pray this letter finds you well. We spent the day at the hospital writing letters for those too injured to write themselves and delivering care packages to the other patients. Being there is the hardest and yet the most rewarding work.
Fate seems
Like John. She wondered how he was. Had he gotten her letters? Were they having a decent Christmas dinner at his outpost? She thought back over every minute they’d shared from the moment her gaze had connected with his across the Christmas Party in Saigon. The time they’d been together had been almost nothing, but the connection between them seemed stronger than anything she’d known before. And his kiss...that had been unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Suddenly the helicopter rocked violently, knocking her into Ginny and smoke billowed into the cockpit. Dear God! Help! Eyes wide with terror, Ginny grabbed for her, screaming, but Emma couldn’t hear anything but the roar of the engines.
Emma’s stomach lurched sickeningly as the helicopter began to spin. They were going to crash. She was about to die, and her one regret was that she hadn’t had more time with John. Maybe she should have stopped him from leaving the Christmas party. Or have asked him to stay longer the next day. She wished she had kissed him again. Had held him longer. Had been able to gaze into his eyes one more time.
Present Day
“M om?”
Emma blinked as James reached over and shook her shoulder. She looked down to see that she’d eaten most of the hamburger. She set the last bite down, her stomach still careening from the memory of the crash.
“You’re as pale as a ghost. I’m sorry my questions sent you back to a bad time. You don’t have to say more. I think I get it. In the middle of a war, facing death every day, I can see how you and Dad fell in love so quickly.”
Emma clasped her necklace charm, feeling the cool, hard metal of the Huey press into her palm. “That Christmas was made up of my greatest highs and my lowest lows.”
“Mrs. Weldon.”
Heart thudding, Emma turned to see John’s nurse. She shot to her feet.
James was already crossing the room. “What is it? What’s happened?”
Vietnam
December 1971
J ohn woke on Christmas morning, surprised to find he’d slept through the night. It had been a long time since he had. It was Christmas Day and Emma’s letters were stored next to his heart. He had to read them again. Her words last night had weighed on his heart. He barely made a sound as he slipped from his bunk to face the early morning light streaming through the jungle foliage. Fingers of steam drifted upward as the humid heat beamed in with the rising sun. The scents of coffee and Christmas dinner teased his senses, making his stomach ache with an eager anticipation he’d thought forever lost. He hurried to his favorite spot. He wanted to hear Emma’s voice in his mind again before the day’s toil began. A Christmas ceasefire had been called, but rather than lessening his sense of doom, it only made it stronger, like a heavy weight pressing upon his chest, making it almost impossible to draw an easy breath.
They were in a horrific war with no front line where success was measured by the number of dead and the sanctity of life had lost all meaning. A ceasefire meant nothing. For the only soldier who ever believed a word of what the enemy said was a dead soldier.
Even though he’d read them once, his heart still thudded like a boy on his first date about to kiss a girl. He inhaled the lavender scent with relish as he focused his gaze in her flowing letters.
Dear John,
I pray this letter finds you well. We spent the day at the hospital writing letters for those too injured to write themselves and delivering care packages to the other patients. Being there is the hardest and yet the most rewarding work.
Fate seems
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