Merry Christmas, Lincoln (Take Care, Sara Novelette)

By Lindy Zart

Lincoln and Sara Walker have gone through their share of heartache, but through it all, they had one another, and that was enough to make it past the turmoil and into the calm.

But the calm has gone, and with it, Lincoln's security that all is okay with him and his wife.

Sara is keeping something from him, something big, and every day that she remains close-lipped about it is a day he wonders if her love for him is fading, if she regrets being with him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lindy Zart
• Release date: Oct 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223791393

Lindy Zart

Lindy Zart is the USA Today bestselling author of Roomies. She lives in Wisconsin with her family. Lindy loves to hear from people who enjoy her work.

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Copyright © 2023 Lindy Zart

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Cover design by: Lindy Zart

Printed in the United States of America

This is dedicated to everyone who loved Lincoln and Sara enough to beg, heckle, and demand that I write more about them. I also have to thank Kristy Louise at Book Addict Mumma who asked for a Christmas excerpt about Lincoln and Sara.

That Christmas excerpt turned into this.

Merry Christmas, Lincoln

Take Care, Sara Novelette

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

LINDY ZART

1

Lincoln turned to his friend. Sara isn’t acting right.

That admission made it real, and that in turn made Lincoln feel sick. He rubbed his face and dropped his hands, eyes burning.

Spencer Johnson raised a lone dark eyebrow at him and took a swig from a bottle of Busch Light. Isn’t acting right as in?

I don’t know. The frustration was evident in the harshness of his tone, and Lincoln lowered his voice and repeated in a calmer tone, I don’t know. She’s acting funny.

The bartender, a blonde with enough cleavage to make thirty men happy—just not Lincoln—stopped before them. Need a refill, boys?

His eyes swept over the woodsy, rustic interior of Double J’s, not even glancing at the well-endowed woman. Instead, he saw Sara’s drawn face in his mind as she slammed the bathroom door in his face that morning. Helplessness washed over him.

Christmas music played from a jukebox, and it annoyed him how much it annoyed him. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet. Why was everyone in such a hurry to get to Christmas? He was aware his bad mood was a product of his ineptitude to get Sara to open up to him, but knowing that didn’t make the bad mood go away. What if she was thinking of Cole, missing him? Three years had gone since his passing, not that time really did anything to alleviate the loss; it just made it more bearable. 

He knew she missed him. Hell, he missed him. But what if something had changed with her, with her feelings for Lincoln, and she regretted being with him? He didn’t want to think that—the thought made everything inside him tighten up—but why else would she be acting so strange? He couldn’t think of alternatives. Those were even more terrifying than what he was already thinking.

Spencer nudged him. You want a refill or what?

Lincoln shook his head, causing his bangs to cover his eyes. No. I need to get home.

He stood up and shrugged on his gray Carhartt jacket. Winters usually didn’t affect him that much—he’d wear hoodies for the majority of the season, foregoing a heavier jacket, but lately—and he thought his current mind frame had something to do with it—he was cold all the time; cold with dread; cold with frustration; cold with fear.

The off-duty cop asked for their bill and reached into his jean’s pocket for cash. He tossed a twenty on the counter and looked at Lincoln. Look, if you’re worried about her, just ask her.

"I have. She won’t tell me anything." 

Make her.

Lincoln snorted. You know Sara. You can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. She’s stubborn. And she hides. When she’s hurting, she hides. Every time I try to ask her what’s going on, she gets mad or weepy or runs away. She probably thinks she’s protecting me somehow by not telling me whatever is going on, but really, she’s driving me insane.

Tell her that.

With a sigh, Lincoln turned toward the door. He swung back around to ask, How are the wedding plans going?