Christmas Presence
By
Lisa J Hobman
5 Prince Publishing
Denver, CO
This is a fictional work. The names, characters, incidents, places, and locations are solely the concepts and products of the author’s imagination or are used to create a fictitious story and should not be construed as real.
5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC
PO Box 16507
Denver, CO 80216
www.5PrinceBooks.com
ISBN-10:1631120735 ISBN-13:978-1-63112-073-2
Christmas Presence
Lisa J. Hobman
Copyright Lisa J. Hobman 2014
Published by 5 Prince Publishing Smashwords Edition
Front Cover Viola Estrella
Author photo by Craig at www.craigphotographystudio.co.uk
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations, reviews, and articles. For any other permission please contact 5 Prince Publishing and Books, LLC.
First Edition/First Printing November 2014Printed U.S.A.
5 PRINCE PUBLISHING AND BOOKS, LLC.
Acknowledgements:
To my best friend and husband, Rich, I would be lost without you. To my beautiful daughter, thank you for letting everyone know how proud you are of your mum and for wanting to follow in my footsteps.
Mum and Dad, your unconditional love keeps me going through the times when I doubt my abilities. Thank you so much.
Thanks to my wonderful Street Team, The Happy Hobman Dancers for your continued support and help spreading the word about my books. You have become great friends and it's a pleasure to know you all.
A huge thank you to Shona who stepped in to the role of my PA on my street team and for being a wonderful friend and support to me.
Thanks to all my friends for being there and for encouraging me to take time away from my laptop.
To all the team (whom I now also consider good friends) at 5 Prince Publishing thank you so much for continuing to let me live my dream.
To the numerous blogs who have supported me, let me take over their pages and have shared my teasers and book details. To name but a few and there are soooo many! ...Island Lovelies, Sneaky Reading, Two Ordinary Girls and their Books, Magic Within the Pages, Fallen For Books, Book Addict Mumma, Elle's Book Blog. You seriously rock!
To Danielle's Dazzling Designs for the amazing swag.
Dedications:
For Rich and Grace. You make every day feel like Christmas.
Christmas Presence
Prologue
Mallory stared out at the Atlantic Ocean from her favourite spot on the bridge. The winter sun glistened on the surface of the water, and she squinted as she watched Greg crouch, one hand still on the pram where baby Sylvie sat, to show little Mairi something on the ground. She guessed it was a bug or a pretty stone like usual. He was such a good daddy. Ever keen to show their daughters the simple wonders of the world. Mairi giggled, the joyous sound travelling on the breeze to warm Mallory’s heart. There was nothing else in the world that she needed. Greg and her girls were all the Christmas gifts she could ever wish for.
As if he felt her eyes on him, Greg glanced up and waved to her. His mouth tilted up at one side in that panties-melting way that made her toes curl. She returned his smile. The butterflies took flight inside her as they often did when she looked at him. He never ceased to affect her that way. He really was gorgeous. Raising her hand, she waved back. His shaggy, dark hair was swept back from his face but flopped forward as he leaned toward the ground. His winter jacket hid the bulk of his biceps—one of her favourite parts of his body.
It was yet another uncharacteristically warm December morning, and the view from the bridge was as stunning as ever. She turned her head, and her gaze settled on the pub where so much of her new life now centred, and she smiled again. Home. She was home. Stella waved from the benches where she cleared Ron’s empty glass from the table. From there Malloryturned again and took in the scene over at the shop where Colin and Christine unloaded packages from the trunk of their car, rolls of brightly coloured paper peeking out from several bags. They must’ve been Christmas shopping. She loved these people like family. Since losing her own parents, she had forgotten what it was like to be cared for so deeply, but these people took her in and made her one of them. One of their own. The village of Clachan-Seil and her beloved bridge were so very special to her now that she could not imagine being anywhere else. The proud Scots pine tree in the parking area danced in the breeze, its branches adorned with red, green, and gold ornaments, and Mallory could smell its fresh, Christmassy scent.
When she turned to look back to where Greg and their girls were, the empty pram was standing abandoned.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Suddenly filled with panic, she gasped and set off running to where she’d last seen her husband and children.
“Greg! Greg!” she tried to call out, but her voice was nothing more than a strangled whisper as it left her throat. Her heart pounded and a sheen of sweat broke out on her skin. He must be in the house. It’s fine. He’ll just be in the house. She struggled up the path to their front door, her feet growing heavier with each step. She peered down at her leaden legs, suddenly feeling like she was walking through quicksand. Looking up again, she found the door wide open. Panic rose anew within her. She tried to call out, but there was no reply to her whispered attempts.
After dashing through the cottage and checking every room, she stumbled, sobbing, back toward the bridge and across to the pub. Yanking the door open, she stepped inside to find the place deserted. What the hell? It was like a scene from some scary movie in which everyone had disappeared into thin air. She spun around, searching each dark corner, her heart hammering as if trying to escape the cage of her ribs. Dizziness overtook her, but she clambered forward, stumbling as fabric began to tangle around her legs. Music began to play as if out of nowhere… She thrashed, trying to discover the source of the song, but suddenly felt paralysed. What’s going on? The familiar music got louder and louder…
Chapter One
Mallory’s eyes fluttered open as the noise to her left registered in her fuzzy, sleep-fogged brain as the song “I Predict a Riot”. Confusion niggled at her mind as she realised she was in bed. Her own bed in her own room. Greg moaned beside her and rolled over, trapping her under his muscular, tattooed arm and nuzzling her neck. The quick pounding of her heart began to calm as delicious tingles awoke on her skin where Greg’s breath had settled. It had been just a dream. A sense of relief replaced the rush of adrenaline, and she smiled as she snuggled closer to her man. Glancing at the illuminated display on her clock, she squinted at the numbers. Five o’clock? Urgh… too early.
“Are you going to answer that, Mally? It’s a bit too early for the Kaiser Chiefs, don’t you think?” he mumbled into her skin, ending his sentence with a kiss. A shiver traversed her body, making her sigh in contentment. Ahhh! Ringtone… that explains it. Oh shit, Brad’s ringtone.
She grappled with Greg’s heavy arm and pushed it off her body. Stretching out her arm, she reached for her phone. “Hello?” she said as a feeling of panic washed over her and her heart began to race.
“Mal, oh, thank God. It’s started. It’s early!” a very worried voice gasped down the line.
She sat bolt upright. “Oh, no, Brad! Is she okay?”
“She’s terrified. They’ve said… there are… there are complications. We’re at the General right now. I’m really sorry, but Le Petit Cadeau will have to stay closed today.”
“Brad, I couldn’t care less about the shop, all I’m worried about is Josie
and the baby. She shouldn’t have been working this late into her pregnancy anyway. This isn’t the best way for things to go.”
“I know. I know. Shit, Mal, what if things go wrong and—” Brad’s voice broke and a lump lodged in Mallory’s throat.
She made a concerted effort to sound calm. “Stop it right now. Nothing is going to go wrong, Brad. So this is all happening a month early. So what? Hospitals are well equipped to deal with these situations nowadays. You’ve got to stay positive. Do you hear me? For Josie.”
Greg sat up and put his arm around her, taking her free hand in his, a frown etched on his rugged features. She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb, turned to face him, and shook her head, hoping he would understand the seriousness of the situation. He closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, squeezing her into his firm chest and kissing the top of her head. With the phone still pressed to her ear, she was grateful to be in Greg’s strong and warm embrace. Memories of the loss she had felt in her dream came flooding back, and she bit down on her lip in a bid to abate the threatening tears. Brad must be experiencing similar fears right now and she wanted—no, needed—to help.
Brad sniffed down the line, making Mallory’s heart ache. “You’re right, I’m sorry… I just… I don’t know what I’d do…”
“Look, I’m going to come down. I’ll… I’ll sort it so that I can come down today.” Greg pulled away, nodded his agreement beside her and kissed her shoulder.
Brad huffed out a breath. “No, don’t do that. The roads are terrible up there right now. We saw it on the news last night. Honestly, please don’t, we’ll be fine.”
“Brad, you’re my best friends. You need me. I’ll get a train. And I won’t take no for an answer, so don’t bother trying to argue.”
“But… it’s a week until Christmas, Mal. Greg and the girls need you to be there.”
“And I will be. I’ll come down for a few days, and I’ll be back here in plenty of time for Christmas. Don’t worry.”
Brad heaved a long, shaking breath. “Well, I have to admit, having you here would be good. You have such a calming effect on Josie. And me, for that matter. And knowing you’ve been through all of this… twice… it’s… reassuring. Look… I should go. I need to get back to my girl.”
“That’s that, then. I’ll text when I get a ticket sorted so you know what time to expect me.” She said her goodbyes and set the phone on the nightstand. But when she turned back to Greg, her lip began to quiver as tears welled in her stinging eyes. “Something’s wrong, Greg. She’s gone into early labour, and they’ve said there are complications.” A sob broke free from her throat as he pulled her into his arms.
“Oh, shit, sweetheart. You should go. You’re right. Me and the girls will be fine. She needs you right now.”
Pulling away, she looked into his chocolate-brown eyes and saw such understanding. Could this man be any more perfect? “Thank you. I know it’s so close to Christmas and—”
“Hey, stop. Like I’ve said. We’ll be fine. Go and be with our friends.” He touched her face tenderly and then stood. She trailed her gaze down his sculpted, naked form. She would never tire of his masculinity. She watched as he pulled his lounge pants up the length of his muscular thighs, and when her gaze met his, he smiled knowingly. “I’ll go and stick the kettle on whilst you have a look online for a ticket, okay?” He reached over, grabbed the tablet from his nightstand, and handed it to her.
Suddenly, excited high-pitched squealing could be heard along with the pitter-patter of little feet. “Mummy, Daddy! Santa!”
Mallory wiped at her eyes and turned toward her daughter. “Good morning, princess. I’m sorry, but Santa hasn’t been yet. It’s a little early. He doesn’t come until next week.” Little Mairi jumped onto Mallory’s lap, her brown curls bouncing. Mallory cuddled her daughter and planted a kiss on her head. Mairi yawned and stuck her thumb in her mouth. Giving her a squeeze, Mallory told her, “I think maybe you need to go back to bed for a little while. It’s very early. Sylvie’s still sleeping, and so should you be.” She scooped up the little bundle and carried her back to the girlie pink bedroom along the landing and placed her back under her duvet. Mairi rolled over, grabbed her teddy, and closed her eyes.
Mallory walked over to the cot in the corner of the room. She gazed down at the baby girl sleeping soundly. A mop of dark hair spiked up from every angle. She kissed her finger and stroked it down her baby’s cheek.
Sylvie had been a little surprise that had arrived when Mairi was only eighteen months old. It had been a huge shock for Mallory, discovering that she was pregnant again so soon after giving birth to her first daughter. Greg, however, had been like a child on Christmas morning all over again. His enthusiasm had been contagious and shock had soon become excitement for the happy couple. And now that he had a house full of girls, he and Angus—the yellow Labrador—were outnumbered four to two when Ruby the little black Patterdale was included, which, of course, she was.
Making her way back to the bedroom she shared with her husband, Mallory revived the sleeping tablet and located the rail website, where she searched for the next available train from Oban to Leeds. She would have a couple of hours to shower, get ready, and travel to the station. Plenty of time under normal circumstances, but the roads were treacherous at the moment after the latest heavy snowfall. She glanced out the bedroom window over the front garden. A blanket of white covered everything except for the Atlantic Ocean where it flowed in its icy glory just a few hundred yards in front of the little cottage. Glancing up to the right, she smiled as her gaze settled on the pretty arched bridge. Flakes of snow had gathered in the dents and striations of the stonework, creating a vista worthy of any Christmas card.
The bridge over the Atlantic had been the location of so many memories for her; some wonderful and some still painful. But her heart had no intention of allowing her to live elsewhere. She was still drawn to the place after all these years, and no matter how long she was away from it—whether a week, a weekend, or just a day—she still felt the pangs of homesickness. The sense of relief when returning home and crossing the bridge toward the cottage still resonated deep within her.
As she stood watching a fresh batch of snowflakes flutter to the ground, Greg walked into the room. She turned to face him as he carefully carried two steaming mugs, a look of concentration on his face. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee accompanied him.
“There ya go, gorgeous. That should help clear away the wee cobwebs,” he said as he held the mug toward her. His broad Scottish accent still made her tingle.
She smiled. “Thanks. I’m all sorted. The train leaves at eight. Do you think you could drive me to Oban if we ask Christine to look after the girls?” Driving in adverse weather conditions had terrified her since losing Sam, and Greg was far more experienced at driving than she was.
He crossed the room, placed his cup on the nightstand, and took her face in his palms. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t want you driving in this weather. You’re too precious. And the Landy will cope with the roads now that the snow tyres are fitted.” He leaned in and kissed her lips gently and she melted into him. He pulled away and tapped her nose with his finger. “Now you drink your coffee, get showered, and I’ll go light a fire. I’ll give Chrissy a call and see if she’ll come over ASAP.” He gazed down at her, a combination of adoration and worry in his eyes. “It’ll all be fine, you know. I can just… feel it.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied with a wavering voice. Knowing that Josie had suffered a previous miscarriage and how that had affected her friends so deeply played on her mind. They’d been through enough already. She wasn’t sure how they would get through this if it happened at such a late stage in the pregnancy.
Chapter Two
Once she was ready, Mallory made her way downstairs. The heat from the fire had already warmed the early morning air, and Greg had switched on the tree lights, giving the room a warm and cosy glow. Christ
mastime always reminded her of the day she’d first viewed the house with Sam. It seemed like an eternity ago, but the memory was still fresh in her mind.
“Okay, imagine this…” She walked over to the fireplace. “The log burner is crackling away with a fresh pine log… there’s an evergreen-and-berry garland stretched across the mantel…” She gestured wildly to where the adornment would sit, and then she skipped to the corner of the room. “Over in this corner is a real Christmas tree, not one of those plastic artificial things…” She scrunched her nose at the thought. “No, a real tree trimmed with baubles and beads, filling the air with its fresh scent.” Glancing over to where Sam stood in the centre of the room, she crouched. “Under the tree are little brightly coloured packages, tied up with ribbons, waiting to be opened…” She rose again and sauntered back over to the fireplace and waved her hands at the empty floor space. “There’s a rug in front of the fire and Ruby is curled up fast asleep…” Crouching again, she reached out her hand. “Eventually there will be a mini Sam or Mallory sitting wide-eyed, waiting for Santa to come… although explaining how he’ll get through a stove may be tricky.” She laughed as she imagined that scenario. Standing again, she danced over toward the door that led through to the kitchen and closed her eyes. “There’s a delicious aroma of spiced fruitcake floating through the house”—her fingers flickered around in the air—“and in the background Bing Crosby is singing about snow.” She brought her arms around her body and sighed. Breaking herself from her vision, she turned to Sam. “Hey, are you okay, honey?” His eyes had misted over.
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