Christmas Delights 3 (60 page)

“Are you okay, soldier?” an elderly man asked as he looked
away from his box.

Trace looked from the postcard to the concerned man. His
hand gripped the cane he needed sometimes to help his balance. He walked fine
with the prosthesis, but the explosion and injuries caused PTSD, occasional
vertigo, and horrible migraine headaches. His dog-tags were out in the open and
his t-shirt was camouflaged. “How do you know?” He shifted the postcard to his hand
holding the cane, which crumpled the precious card, but needed to touch the
dual-sided patron saint charm between his thumb and forefinger. One side was
Saint Christopher, patron of travelers, while the opposite was Michael the
Archangel, patron of soldiers. The small charm was tucked behind his dog-tags,
placed there by the man he loved before leaving home.

“There’s a certain look to you, soldier, one I recognize in
myself. As one soldier to another, young man, I was in World War II. The dark
haunting and ghosts in our gaze never disappears.”

“Were you on the European or Asian front?”

“Europe. I entered a few weeks after D-Day thanks to my
birthday,” the man said. He held out his hand and Trace dropped his fingers
from the charm to shake hands. “How about you?”

“I spent most of my time in the deserts.”

“Army?”

“Marines.”

“Ah, well, you’re forgiven, devil dog, sorry about the
‘soldier’ quip,” the man said with a smile. “Now, are you feeling okay,
youngster?”

“A note reminding me of a promise before my last tour,”
Trace said, lifting the postcard.

“Those have a tendency to bring us back to the reality
outside our brothers-in-arms. Are you on leave?”

“Medical discharge thanks to an unidentified IED.” Trace
tapped his cane against his lower leg.

The man shook his head. “Damn those devices. They took too
many of our boys.”

“Yes, sir, in a way, I guess I’m one of the lucky few.”

“What are you going to do about the note? Ignore it?”

Trace rubbed his hand over the card and writing. “I’ve
ignored it for over two years since I came home less than when I left. I didn’t
want to aggravate anyone with my various issues and disabilities.”

“Is the one who sent you the card family?”

“I hoped to become a family.”

“They wouldn’t be aggravated, just concerned and willing to
help. Give them a chance.”

“I know they would do anything to help. Don’t think I can
ignore it much longer.” He glanced out the window and saw the gray cloud-filled
sky. Christmas decorations covered the store windows, the streets, and filled
everyone’s ears with music.

“Go home for Christmas, son. It’s the season for family,
forgiveness, and new beginnings,” the elderly man said. “Take it from an
old-timer, don’t get lost in the past and memories. You survived. Now you need
to live.”

Thinking over the words and the card, Trace smiled at the
older soldier. “Thank you. I think I will head home. Have a Merry Christmas.”

“Same to you, devil dog, and thanks for your service. I hope
you find what you’re searching for back home.”

* * * * *

On the long drive back home to Colorado, Trace stopped off
at the rehab center to get an adjustment on the socket and the various pins and
fittings since his stump changed since the last visit. It took an extra day for
a new socket, socks, and gel liners to be fitted, but nothing was jabbing into
sensitive areas and his stump wasn’t angry and swollen. With less than a week
left before Christmas and Camden waiting, he got back in the truck and drove
west.

The scenery went from flat plains to mountains over the two
days of travel. On the morning of the third day, he saw the sign—

Welcome to Misty Pines Park, Colorado

Town of the Misty Evergreens

Population: 8,740

He’d made it home. The place he blew out of here the moment
he turned eighteen and graduated and signed up for the Marines. The one regret
he had about his exit was leaving Camden Ross in the small, homophobic town.
Thinking about Camden made him reach up and touch the charm Cam chose for them.
Cam didn’t think one saint would do the job of protecting him, so he created a
charm with both images. After getting it blessed, Cam positioned the charm in
place behind the dog-tag.

He returned once before his last tour in response to Cam’s
postcard about his father’s, Tobias LaPointe’s, stroke. By the time he arrived,
his father was dead and the funeral done. Trace could stare down at the marble
headstone at the man who made his childhood hell. Seeing Cam appear out of the
mist clenched his heart so tight he couldn’t help but embrace the smaller man
and kiss him as if the years apart never happened. Of course, the years
heightened Cam’s masculine grace and beauty, growing and filling in the gangly
frame. The dark thick glasses were replaced by more sensible wireless ones.
Still, it was all Cam in his arms and he agreed to Cam’s promise to return for
Christmas after his tour. Part of him had every intention of following through
with the promise, until his security patrol group got pinned down by enemy
fire, and getting blown apart by an IED screwed with his life.

Slowing the truck and shifting to neutral, he stared at the
sign as memories rose and took over his head. He was forced to shift into park
as his anxiety shot up beyond control. Trapped within the memories for several
minutes, he gripped the steering wheel until the ancient leather creaked under
his hands.

There was a knock on the window, dragging him out of the
anxious moment. He clicked the button to put the window down and saw the local
sheriff’s uniform coat and hat before he saw the face.

“Sorry, sir, but you can’t stay parked here. I need you to
move on from this place. If you need a place to park, there are several places
farther up the road. Holy crap! Trace LaPointe! What the hell are you doing in
town? Damn, I haven’t seen you since high school,” the deputy said, laughing
hard as he nudged up the broad-brimmed hat and stared at Trace. “I heard you
went into the Marines to serve after grad.”

“I did, serve several tours, and was discharged.”

“Damn, can’t believe you became a leatherneck. I got as far
as Denver, met and married my girl, and came home.”

“It’s better than humping the desert as a soldier or taking
a dive for the Navy boys. I came home a few years back for my father, but I was
too late,” Trace said, glad to know one of the decent guys who didn’t terrorize
and harass him and Cam was on the force. “You’re married…” Trace caught sight
of the gold ring. “Damn, you mean a woman accepted you.”

“My Valerie scooped me up when I was a rookie cop and we
have three kids.”

“I’m impressed. Congratulations,” Trace said.

“Thanks, man, and thanks for your service. Seen some nasty
shit out there?”

“It was more than I expected or wanted, but I chose the life
and kept re-upping.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I came home to fulfill a promise to be home for Christmas.
I’m a few years late though and hope the opening is still there.”

“If you’re talking about Camden Ross, I’m sure the door is
open. He never backed down against the town and the homophobes. You won’t find
him in the old house, though.”

“Where is he?”

“Cam moved into the mayor’s house on the hill. Man got
himself on the ballot and to everyone’s surprise, he’s won the last two
elections running. A homophobic town has a gay mayor and things are changing.
The papers loved it. We had news crews all the way from Chicago, the Twin
Cities, and other places after the first win.”

“The mayor? Cam is the mayor?”

“Yup. Your boy did well and is changing the laws.”

“Holy crap…”

“Have you been up there?” When Trace shook his head, the
deputy fixed his hat and pointed. “Head straight down this highway, turn right
on Whispering Pineview Road, and turn right on Mayor’s Hill. His place is at
the end of the road against the mountains. Enjoy yourself, Trace. I’ll catch up
with you at the Pine Bar. Cam will get you there. Tonight at eight.”

“Umm. Sure. Pine Bar tonight.”

“I know lots of folks will want to see you. Drive careful,
we had a bad storm blow through a couple of days ago. “The deputy banged a hand
on the top of the car and backed away. He answered a call on a radio, but Trace
couldn’t hear as he rolled up the window and shifted the truck into gear.

The mayor? What the hell…

Chapter 2

Driving through town, grateful he wasn’t stopped again,
Trace followed the directions and wondered what the hell was happening. Why did
Cam run for mayor? What the hell possessed him to try such a thing? Last he
knew Cam was busy managing the several stores his family owned and kept an eye
on Misty Pine Resorts on the edge of town. Why would he take on this role?

Turning up Mayor’s Hill, the road long ago renamed when the
town built the new mayoral house on the top decades ago, Trace noticed the
evergreen and flickering decorations across the sign which said Mayor of Misty
Pines Park. The road was edged with paper bag lanterns, colorful and lit
against the snow, with swags of twinkle lights draped between the trees and
other cheery signs of the season. Cam always did love to decorate. It seemed he
carried it with his move to the house on the hill.

After the last bend, Trace drove through the iron gates,
kept open due to the piled snow, and the driveway to what he hoped was the
parking area. He couldn’t quite tell. Turning off the truck, Trace studied the
massive three-story log and stone structure that fit in the surrounding areas
with nature and elegance. The entire place was decorated with evergreens,
ribbons, and lights. Several small decorated trees rose on either side of the
front steps. Still, it didn’t have an overdone look. Everything was like a
picture-perfect Christmas card, typical of Cam’s taste.

Gathering his knapsack from the passenger side, he locked
the door and pocketed the keys. Tugging the cane from a pocket, he unlocked and
straightened it. Though he didn’t want to see Cam with the damn thing, he
didn’t want to take the chance on the snowy ground. With the extra support, he
slung the backpack on his good shoulder and made his way toward the double
front doors. He smiled at the festive wreaths covering both glass windows. He
hit the button twice.

Several dings and musical notes rang throughout the house,
and a shadow appeared behind the doors. He heard the locks unclick as one door
opened from the inside. A gray-haired man in a sharp gray suit stood in the
opening.

“Good evening and happy holidays, sir. How may I assist you?
Appointments to see the mayor are set for day hours through the central office
in downtown. The first available time will be the second week in January. I
could give you directions to the nearest resort or hotel for lodging,” the man
said.

Trace pulled the folded postcard from his back pocket.
“Could you tell the mayor Trace is standing outside and kept his promise?” He
held out the card. “You could give this to him.”

“Give me one moment,” the man said, taking the card and
closing the door.

Folding his hands over the cane, Trace turned to look across
the manicured decorated lawn. The door opened again.

“Trace?”

Closing his eyes at the sound of his name, Trace turned to
face his first best friend, boyfriend, and lover. So many years passed, yet
they stood before one another. Remaining on the lean side, wireless glasses in
place and golden hair cut stylishly, Camden hadn’t changed from the last time
he saw him.

“Holy shit. It is you,” Camden said when Trace moved. His
hand moved to a chain with the matching patron charm.

“Hello, Cam, am I too late to keep my promise?”

“No, never, and you’re right on time, soldier boy,” Camden
said as he lowered his hand. “You’re here. You made it home to me.”

“I was a proud member of the Marines Corps, not the Army,
big difference. Stick with devil dog if you must give me a nickname.”

“How about jarhead?”

“How about not,” Trace teased back, as they always did when
meeting up again.

“Yeah. Yeah. Wait, you
were
a member?”

“Medical discharge dropped me from Gunny to civ div.
Unemployed civilian at that,” Trace said with a shrug.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as you’re here, I don’t care.” Cam
pulled his head back. “How did you find me up here? I didn’t put all that on
the card.”

“A deputy found me by the sign. I can’t believe someone let
Ray be a deputy. Anyway, he told me about your unexpected job change and where
to go.”

“He’s a good guy, impressive with his work, could be Sheriff
one day. What else did Ray tell you?”

“You need to take me to the Pine Bar by eight tonight for a
get-together.”

“Does the man not understand you’ve been away longer than
you been home? I swear…”

“Guess it didn’t fit into his brain since he gets married
sex every night,” Trace said as he rocked the cane on the pivoting base.

“Shit, sorry, standing out here in the cold.” Cam
straightened and shook his head. “Do you have everything you need? There’s
going to be a blizzard coming in later tonight.”

“I have my larger duffel in the back of the truck. I’ll get…”

“No, no need. Stephen, where’s your son?”

“In the kitchen with Chef, I’ll send him outside to fetch
the duffel bag,” the older man said as he moved behind Cam.

“Thanks, Stephen. Have him put the bag in the room next to
mine,” Cam said.

Without a word at the request, Stephen nodded.

“Chef?”

“The cook who took control of the kitchen and we can’t call
the man anything else. Since he’s a muscular 275-pound, six-five man, we do
whatever he says.”