by Annie Rains
He moved forward and took her by the shoulders. “I’m sorry I missed it. I was called to the clinic.”
“Oh,” she said on a long breath. “I should have realized.”
“You missed me?” He couldn’t help but smile. Maybe the mysterious angel had been put there just for him. Just to make him take a chance.
She nodded and then brushed away a tear. “Who was sick?” she asked.
“Not sick. Hurt. Elbert Rhodes. He was in a bad motorcycle accident. We had to fly him up to the trauma center in Columbia.”
“Oh, my goodness, is he going to be okay?”
“He should live, but he’s got a long road to recovery. He’s in surgery right now. You know, it was funny. He was conscious for a short time when he got to the clinic. And he was talking about angels. I guess that’s not anything remarkable when it comes to Elbert Rhodes.”
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity before Tom screwed up his courage. “Teri, can I come inside?”
A tiny smile tilted her lips. “Yes. And I’ll tell you a secret.”
“What’s that?”
“Savannah Randall as much as told me today that you and I belong together.”
He chuckled. “Teri, the flowers were her idea.”
“And the note?”
“Well, I wrote the note and, no, she didn’t tell me what to say. I’m really, really sorry I couldn’t meet you for a romantic Christmas rendezvous.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Now that I know the reason, I’m glad you were there for Elbert and not with me. Tom, I’ve been an idiot. Tonight I just feel as if somehow God has blessed us in some way. I think the angels did visit the little town of Last Chance tonight.”
“Me too.”
And then he kissed her under the mistletoe that hung in the door’s threshold.
And it was a fairy-tale kind of kiss. The kind of kiss that makes a woman believe in angels and happily ever after.
About the Author
Hope Ramsay is a USA Today bestselling author of heartwarming contemporary romances. Her books have won critical acclaim and publishing awards. She is married to a good ol’ Georgia boy who resembles every single one of her Southern heroes. She has two grown children and a couple of demanding lap cats. She lives in Virginia where, when she’s not writing, she’s knitting or playing her forty-year-old Martin guitar.
You can learn more at:
HopeRamsay.com
Twitter, @HopeRamsay
Facebook.com/Hope.Ramsay
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