A Christmas Peril (The Teacup Novellas - Book Five) Read Online Free Page B

wondering why I couldn’t just do something normal for a change. Why
was everything such a challenge? How hard could it be just to talk to him? Then
again, I couldn’t remember ever being this tired. Still, I wasn’t about to
sleep when I finally had time to be with him. To watch over him. To make sure
he was comfortable.
    When I opened my eyes, I noticed Aunt
Lucille’s diary sitting beside my purse. I stuck my fingers through the bed
rails and gently stroked Mark’s fingers. Then, with another glance at his
bruised face, I reached for the diary and decided to spend some time with my
aunt.
    I’d thumbed through a few of the pages,
but purposefully refrained from actually reading it until I could give the
contents the attention it deserved. For the first time I noticed the ink was
green‌—‌the same as every note or letter or recipe my aunt had ever
written. But who knew green ink was readily available back in the forties? I
caressed the familiar handwriting as it beckoned me into its pages.
    I was also astounded by the style she’d
written. Stephen had told me it read like a love story, but I had no idea she’d
used actual dialogue‌—‌quotation marks and all. I smiled, thinking
how easy that would make it for me to write my novella.
    I glanced over at Mark and cleared my
throat. I told him about Stephen sending me Aunt Lucille’s diary and asked if
he would mind if I read it out loud to him. I touched the heart of diamonds
resting against my chest as a moment passed. Nothing.
    “Okay, then. I’ll take that as a yes.
Which doesn’t surprise me. You would have loved her, Mark. I’m glad I can share
her with you. So here goes.”
     
    December 1944
    Dear Diary,
    How perfect. A brand new diary and
something new to write about ‌—‌ or
I should say “someone” new? The most wonderful things seem to happen when you
least expect them. Yesterday, as I boarded the El on my way home from classes, I
dropped one of my textbooks in the aisle. Clumsy, but with my coat and gloves
and armload of books, it just slipped from my hands.
    I turned around and reached down for it
just as a handsome young soldier did the same. “Allow me,” he said, as we both
stood back up, our eyes locked. He slowly removed his cap but never took his
eyes off me. It felt as if time stood still. I don’t think I took a single breath
the entire time. We just stood there ‌—‌ staring
at each other. Even now, I’ve got goose bumps just thinking about it. His eyes
were so blue, and his smile seemed to light his entire face. Little lines
feathered his kind eyes, and his dimples were surely as deep as the ocean. I’d
never seen him before, and yet I felt as if I’d always known him. How is that
possible?
    He took a handkerchief from his pocket
and dusted off my book.
    “There now,” he said. “All nice and
clean.” He tilted his head to read the title. “‘ Teaching High
School English.’ Well,
now. I bet that’s a real page-turner.”
    He smiled back at me, and I could feel
the heat creeping across my face. “You’ve no idea,” I teased, as I took the
book from his hands. “I’m not usually so clumsy, but thank you.”
    “You are most welcome.” The train began
to move, jostling us together. He grabbed my elbow to steady me. “I believe
there’s a seat right here with your name on it.” He stepped out of the way and
motioned me toward the aisle seat.
    I thanked him and sat down, setting my
purse on the floor next to my feet. When I turned, he was still standing beside
me, his hand gripping the bar above him.
    I twisted to look back over my shoulder.
“I’m sure there are more seats in the back.”
    “Oh, I’m perfectly fine where I am. But
thank you, Miss . . . ?”
    I looked over my shoulder again as I
stalled for an answer. I didn’t usually give my name to strangers. But he just
seemed so . . . genuine. Still, how many times had Father warned
me about men in uniform? “Lucille, just because a man