A Knights Bridge Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

Bridge. He’d loved his grandfather, but when he’d died two years ago, Logan had realized how little he knew about Tom Farrell’s life. His father had left Knights Bridge for college and life as a lawyer in the Boston suburbs. No one had been more surprised than Logan when his parents had decided to retire to the Farrell farm—just not right away. They were presently on a Christmas Market cruise in Europe.
    Logan stood in his living room and looked out at the city lights. When his phone rang, he was surprised to see it was his father. “Is it snowing?” he asked when Logan picked up.
    “Not at the moment.”
    “We have just enough snow here to keep things festive.”
    “It’s six hours later there. What are you doing up?”
    “I’m somewhere between East Coast and Austrian time. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help your grandmother move. I called at eight. She said she was about to tuck herself into bed. She seems content.”
    “I think so.” They chatted for a few minutes about the move. Logan remembered the photograph his grandmother had pinpointed in the album. “Do you know if the Christmas of 1945 has any particular meaning for Gran?”
    “It was the end of the war. Her father survived. He served in the Atlantic in the navy. He died when I was twelve, but he never talked about his war years—I’m not sure he would have with me, since I was just a kid. He and my grandmother lived with us. She died a couple of years after he did. The war...”
    “A long time ago,” Logan said.
    “For us. For Mom, it must feel like the blink of an eye.”
    Logan stepped back from the window and its familiar view. “The local librarian is going to help me decorate the house.”
    “Good, because one thing we Farrell men have in common—Pop, you and me—is not having an eye for decorating. You’ll need the help.”
    “Do you ever wish you’d become a firefighter?”
    “Many times. Pop was proud when I decided to go into the law—Mom, too. They said they understood I needed to be in Boston, but I’m sure they secretly wished I’d opened up a practice in Knights Bridge.” He chuckled. “Well, in Mom’s case, not so secretly, but she got over it.”
    “No regrets?”
    His father was silent a moment. “Not when I see you and your sister, no. You’ve taken on a demanding career. The burnout rate for emergency physicians is pretty high. Take time to have a life, son. The work is good, but it will always be there. My pop used to tell me that. I wish I’d done a better job of listening.”
    Logan shifted the subject to his parents’ cruise, but it was obvious his father was fading. After they disconnected, Logan took a shower, which he wouldn’t have time for in the morning, his head swimming with memories. His grandfather’s funeral, the church overflowing with well-wishers, Gran stoic but ever so sad. She was doing fine health wise, but given her advanced age, anything could happen anytime. She knew it, too. But she would tell him every day mattered, regardless of one’s age.
    By the time he collapsed into bed, he was happy that he had three twelve-hour shifts before his return to Knights Bridge.
    * * *
     
    Friday arrived faster than Logan had anticipated. He’d left clothes and toiletries at his grandmother’s house and only stopped at his apartment long enough to grab a pair of winter boots. He didn’t know why he’d need boots to visit his grandmother and decorate her house, but it seemed like a good idea to have them for a December weekend in Knights Bridge. He hadn’t checked the forecast. For all he knew, they could be in for a blizzard.
    The drive west was uneventful, with reasonable traffic and no snow or the dreaded “wintry mix.” By the time he wound his way into Knights Bridge, the stars were out. Every house and business on the common was lit up for the holidays—except his grandmother’s house. He didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed before that it wasn’t decorated. He’d been