Merry Christmas, Lincoln (A Take Care, Sara Christmas Novelette) Read Online Free PDF Page A

alive.
    ***
    The garage had been turned into Lincoln’s workshop. It was where the wood usually spoke to him, telling his hands what it wanted to be. It was where he went when he needed to think or to be alone. It was where he went when he was bothered by something. And it was where Sara found him Sunday night, staring at the pile of lumber he built small furniture out of when inspiration struck. Divine guidance hadn’t deemed it necessary to pummel him for a while. He sat on a wood bench he himself had made, hands clasped between his knees, shoulders hunched.
    That pile of wood wouldn’t obliterate the listlessness he felt no matter how hard he looked at it. His hands were useless, unable to create. It was cold in the white-walled garage, his breath visible puffs of air each time he exhaled. There was one prevalent thought in his head as he sat there: What kind of father was he going to be? Farther back in his mind was: Why him and not Cole?
    He felt like he’d done something wrong, like he’d taken something meant for his brother, and he didn’t want to feel that way, he really didn’t. If he knew how to take the self-inflicted blame away, he would. Cole wasn’t around, but what if his son or daughter could still be? And he was so happy that a part of him and Sara would live on in a little being and that had the remorse rising up as well, because there was nothing of Cole left to live on.
    Sara eyed him, not speaking for a long time. “I brought you some coffee,” she finally said, nodding to the steaming mug in her hands.
    “Thanks.”
    “ What’s going on?” She set the mug down beside him, brushing hair from his eyes.
    When he didn't respond, she said, “Your hair is getting long and hiding your gray eyes. We can’t have that.” She smiled. “I hope he or she has your eyes. They’re beautiful, like stormy gray skies.”
    Lincoln fisted his hands. “You need to go to the doctor, Sara.”
    She dropped her forehead to his, resting her hands on his shoulders. He closed his eyes, breathing her in, calm slowly seeping into him. “I know. I will. I should have gone as soon as I found out. I just—I have a hard time getting excited about this when I know how easily it can be taken away.”
    “That’s the wrong way to think about it.”
    “ I know that too. And what about you? You’re brooding. What are you thinking about?”
    He sat up straighter, rubbing his face. How did he put into words the inadequacy hovering over him, the guilt he felt? “Nothing. I’m just tired.”
    When he got to his feet and walked toward the door, Sara snagged the hem of his green sweatshirt. “What part of your speech to me did you not think applied to you as well? What’s got you scowling? I demand to know.”
    “ You demand ?”
    Sara grinned, her brown eyes twinkling as her face went from pretty to striking. Her smile was like the sun and it warmed him every time she graced him with it. “Yes. I demand. I’m your wife. I can do stuff like that.”
    Lincoln sighed. “I’m just…scared,” he admitted. It was true, partially.
    The curve of her lips softened and she cupped the side of his face, pressing her cheek to his. “I’m glad you’re scared. If you weren’t, I would worry. Everything’s going to be okay. You said so yourself. And if it isn’t, well…we’ll deal with that together, like you said. So suck it up and be positive, like you always tell me to be.” She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
    Hands clasped, they made their way through crunchy snow to the inviting warmth of the house. The air, thick with the scent of burning wood, froze any body parts not covered and seeped through his clothing to those that were until he was shivering.
    “ Is Dana coming back for Christmas?” he asked, the twinkling white Christmas lights lining the deck and roof giving the night life.
    “ New Year’s.”
    He raised an eyebrow at that.
    Sara laughed. “She wants to get