by Jillian Hart
“That’s a very good idea.” Her boots squeaked on the polished hardwood. It took all her willpower to keep her heart still when she slipped by Michael.
“On Christmas Eve before I go to bed,” Macie chattered on, kneeling before the tree, “I’m gonna put out a bowl of milk so my kitten won’t get hungry. She’ll have to wait for me all the way until morning.”
“That’s thoughtful, Macie.” She couldn’t help brushing a light brown shock of hair from the girl’s face. Gentle affection for the child filled her up, brimming over. “You are going to make a great pet owner. That’s a very important thing to be.”
“I know,” Macie said in her singsong voice, beaming with hope brighter than the Christmas tree. “Do you know what? First, I’m gonna hold her and hug her. Then we’re gonna open the rest of my presents together. I’m gonna love her and love her.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan.” The sweet little black and the darling little calico were getting more than a home. They were getting a great child to love. “Do you have a name picked out?”
“Um, I can’t decide.” Macie scrunched up her face, thinking hard, as she smoothed the blanket lovingly. “First I thought Princess, but that’s when I wanted a white kitty. I just might wanna name a striped kitty Tigger, but I need to think up more striped names.”
“There’s Bee, as in honeybee. And Jailbird.” Chelsea did her best to focus on the job at hand, kneeling down beside the girl. But her ears picked up the muffled pad of Michael’s footsteps in the kitchen, she heard the microwave humming and the tap of phone keys as he texted someone.
“Not Jailbird.” Macie laughed.
“Let’s see. What else is striped? Candy canes.” Her voice sounded tinny and distant to her ears. The strengthened awareness between her and Michael came to the forefront, blocking out all else. Her senses fine-tuned to catch his every movement, his every breath. “You could always go with a nonstriped name. Duchess. Clementine. Leopold.”
“Leopold? That’s a boy’s name!” With a giggle, the girl bounced to her feet, shining in the jeweled lights of the tree. “Maybe Christmas. Kitty Whiskers. Jingle Bell.”
“Brilliant. I like the holiday theme.” She felt the tractor-beam tug of Michael’s gaze. He stood with phone in his hand, a kettle on the stovetop rumbling behind him, three mugs lined up on the counter in front of him.
He’s the one, her heart whispered. The one and only. She wasn’t ready for this, she was panicking big-time, but she couldn’t stop the quiet and abiding love filling her up like Christmas wishes, like dreams meant to come true.
“I think Hey You has a nice ring to it.” He swept the kettle off the stove and filled two of the cups. The scent of mint tea rose with the steam. “What? Why isn’t that a good name?”
“Oh, Daddy.” Macie shook her head at him, feigning disapproval. “Is that hot chocolate for me?”
“Yes, I’m putting you on marshmallow duty.” He tore open a cocoa packet and dumped it into the third mug.
“Do we have the puffy ones or the colored ones?” She opened what looked like a pantry door. Yep—full of boxes and cans and two bags of marshmallows.
“I don’t know what your grammy got when she went shopping for us.” He poured water, set down the kettle and stirred. Riveting, seeing Michael in the kitchen moving with the ease of a man used to being in the kitchen. It was easy to picture him whipping up a meal. Too bad seeing his domestic side made him even more attractive. She couldn’t help falling in love with him a little more.
“Ooh! The little colored ones.” Happy, Macie padded over to her father, clutching the bag. She tried to open it, but it was awkward with her cast, so he did it for her and handed her the bag. Up on tiptoes she went, shaking colorful miniature puffs into the steaming chocolate. When one fell on the counter, she popped it into her mouth. Cute.
“What are you trying to do? Make a marshmallow mountain?” Michael arched an eyebrow as he circled around the marble island. “Leave some for next time. That’s going to spoil your dinner.”
“Do kittens like marshmallows?” Macie asked, crinkling up the bag.
“Probably not good for them,” Chelsea answered, her breath squeaking out of her as Michael drew near. Her fingers curled around the handle of the cup he held out for her. Peppermint scented the air. What had she been saying? She couldn’t remember because she couldn’t think. Likely it was impossible to think with so much panic charging through her system.
“Here, this will help you warm up. Sorry, mint is the only kind I have.”
“It’s the kind I like best, too.” She really needed to ignore all the things they had in common and focus on the differences. On all the reasons why she shouldn’t be feeling what she felt for him. “I couldn’t help noticing you received a text.”
“A few actually. One was from Kelsey’s mother.” He took a sip of tea, watching her over the rim. “She said you texted her this morning, just to check on her, as a friend.”
“She’s nice. Anyone would do the same.” Her expressive eyes crinkled slightly in the corners, betraying her concern. “I didn’t think. Maybe it’s not appropriate.”
“You were checking on her mom, and it was kind of you.” He swallowed hard, against emotions that threatened to run him over like a wild herd of stampeding reindeer. “If she texted you, then you know little Kelsey’s prognosis is grim.”
“Her mom told me.” Compassion made her impossibly more beautiful. How could his heart resist falling completely?
“Kelsey’s holding her own today. That’s good news.” He took a sip of hot tea, hoping the fresh mint taste rolling across his tongue would divert his attention. It failed. Miserably. “When all else fails, pray.”
“That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Me, too.” As hard as he knew how. “Tomorrow we should get the rest of the lab work back. Then I’ll have a better idea of how much time she has.”
“What a hard thing to have to face. Her parents—” Chelsea fell silent, pain filling her gentle blue eyes. “You must want to do everything you can to keep her here on this earth.”
“True.” His gaze followed Macie, who carried her cup piled high with melting marshmallows to the tree. She sat down, cross-legged, staring at the blanket where she hoped her Christmas kitty would lay, dreaming of her new best friend—friends, but she didn’t know that yet. “There is no greater blessing.”
“Agreed.” Chelsea sipped her cup, watching Macie poke her finger into the marshmallow fluff and stir it around.
The doorbell chimed, right on time. He set the mug on the edge of the breakfast bar. “Be right back.”
“Is it Grammy?” Macie looked up, licking the fluff off her finger.
“Probably not.” He wove through the house and opened the door. Pete Dubronsky stood on the threshold and held out a key.
“Found this in a magnetic box on the car frame,” the mechanic explained. “The poor old car just needed a new battery and it’s good to go, for now. But those spark plugs are gonna have to be replaced before long.”
“I’ll tell her. Thanks, Pete. Bye.” He took the key, aware of the whisper of her presence behind him. The snowy walkway, the mechanic stomping away, the icy wind on his face felt distant as Chelsea shouldered in, mouth agape, surprise drawing adorable crinkles into her lovely face.
“What did you do?” She reached for her coat on the wooden tree. “You had my car fixed.”
“You heard him. It was just a battery.” He didn’t want her to read too much into it, or else how could he keep his heart guarded? “Pete owed me a favor. His oldest son used to be a patient.”
“Used to be?”
“Four years cancer-free.” That felt good to say, good to remember that stories could end happily. Happy endings were what he worked so hard for, prayed so hard for. Standing next to her
made it easier to see that. “So I called Pete and he was happy to help. Now you owe me.”
“I guess I do.” Thoughtful, she studied the car parked in the driveway. Hard to guess what she was thinking. Had he tipped his hand? Revealed too much? She bent her head to work her coat zipper. “This can only mean one thing. I’d best get working on the lights so I can even the score.”
“Now you’re talking.” A painful twist in the vicinity of his heart tore through him, weakening his knees. He reached behind her, close enough to feel the silk of her hair against his cheek, and snagged his coat from the tree. “I’ll open up the garage, haul out the ladders. You and Macie can get the lights.”
“Deal.” She pulled a red knit cap out of her pocket and tugged it on. “Macie can be my light stringing partner, right, Mace?”
“Right.” The sprite joined them, going up on tiptoes to fetch her coat.
“Guess I know where I stand.” He buttoned up. “You could have picked me.”
“Tempting, but I had to go with my heart.” She splayed her hand gently over the top of Macie’s soft head.
“Clearly I can’t compete.”
“Not even close,” Chelsea assured him with a wink. “But you are second-best.”
“Considering the company, that’s a compliment.” He gave his daughter’s hat a small tug, unable to douse his affection for his daughter or for the woman. He grabbed the extra garage remote from the doorside table and closed the door, following the females out into gently falling snow. Chelsea. He wanted to picture her in his life. To imagine a future with her in this house, laughing with Macie, sipping tea in his kitchen. To think what his days could be like with her in them.
“Look, Chelsea,” Macie called, holding her arms straight out, turning in circles on the driveway. “I’m twirling.”
“Oh, I love to twirl, too!” Chelsea lifted her arms gracefully and spun, a flash of navy coat, light chestnut hair and red mittens. Her laughter joined Macie’s. “I forgot how fun this is, but I’m getting dizzy.”
“Me, too.” Macie hadn’t sounded this happy in years.
Don’t even think about the reason why, he told himself, opening the garage door. He wasn’t looking for another relationship, he feared he would just mess it up, so why was Chelsea still here? He didn’t need help with the lights, what he needed was harder to define. He couldn’t let her go, not yet, so he hauled out his ladder and the extra one Dad had left for him. No need to tell Chelsea that his father had planned to help him with the lights. He found both females on their backs on the snowy front lawn.
“Or maybe Happy Face.” Macie swished her arms, making angel’s wings.
“I like pet names that are people names,” Chelsea said thoughtfully as she moved her feet, making an angel’s gown. “I named my first kitty Pearl. I was a little younger than you when my mom and dad took us to pick out Christmas kittens. Sara Beth and I each got to choose one kitten. She named hers Hank.”
“Hmm.” Macie carefully climbed out of the snow angel she’d made, leaving a handprint in the middle. She bent over to swipe it away. “Pearl. I like it.”
“Excellent.” Chelsea rose, leaving a perfect angel impression behind. “Michael, looks like you’re ready for us. Although I’m not sure anyone could be, since Macie and me are an awesome combination.”
“Hey, I’m blown away,” he agreed, since it was the truth. Blown away. Captivated. Wishing for what could never be. He mustered every ounce of strength he had to hide the truth, lock it up in his heart and throw away the key. He leaned the ladder against the garage wall and gave it a shake, checking that it was secure. “Why don’t you bring your awesomeness over here? The lights aren’t gonna hang themselves.”
“Stand back. Our awesomeness really is a powerful force.” Chelsea sauntered over with laughing eyes and the glow of happiness leaving a lovely pink blush on her heart-shaped face. “C’mon, Macie. You can be the supervisor. Let’s get these lights up.”
He held out his hand to help her get started on the ladder. The instant her smaller palm rested on his, the shock to his heart was nothing compared to the recognition in his soul. Wow, he thought, as she let go and rose up the rungs. Snow dotted her red cap and clung to her hair. Framed by the swirling, falling flakes, she was the steady, incomparable center his whole world turned around.
He didn’t want to feel this way. Not one bit. The weight of the past clung to him as he marched into the shelter of the garage. Good, a little distance was what he needed. Time to get some air, try to clear his head and figure out a way to get a handle on this. He ripped off the top of a plastic storage bin and pulled out a tangle of icicle lights.
But what he felt had become too incredible to ignore. He had a bad track record with relationships, and yet he’d never wanted anything as much. He shook out the lights, found the end and handed it up to her.
“Hey, you’re pretty handy.” Nothing was more dear than her smile. She plucked the lights from him and got to work. “Maybe you have awesomeness, too.”
No, the awesomeness was purely hers. He fetched the second ladder, climbed up and helped her string dangling icicles in accordance with Macie’s helpful directions.
* * *
“No, Daddy!” Macie bent down to scoop a mitten full of snow and tossed it up in the air to rain over her. Too cute. Chelsea looked up from the far end of the front porch, a string of lights in hand. Once the fistful of snow had stopped falling over her head, she dashed down the walkway. “Not over the rail, over the rail.”
“Is it me? I’m missing something.” His buttery voice resonated with humor.
When his gaze fastened on hers, wham. The earth shook beneath her feet. Judging by his lack of reaction, she was apparently the only one who felt it. “She means over, as in wrap around.”
Understanding dawned on his gorgeous face. “Got it. Is this better?”
“Yup.” Macie collapsed onto the bottom porch step and propped her chin up with the heels of her hands. “I’m hungry.”
“And it’s getting dark.” Chelsea began winding her string of lights around the porch banister, mirroring Michael’s movements at the other end. “I can’t believe the whole day has whizzed by.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Michael said, bent over his work. “Why don’t you stay and eat with us?”
“Uh—” Yes, she wanted to stay. What was wrong with her that she didn’t want to leave?
“No need to panic, I’m not cooking.” He reached the middle of the porch banister, at the end of his light string. “Mom brought over a casserole yesterday. We’ll warm it up. It’s pretty tasty.”
“And so’s dessert,” Macie added, clasping her hands together. “Please, you gotta stay.”
“I’d love to.” Had she really used the word love? Yikes. Not at all what she meant. “But I have chores waiting at home. Stuff to pick up at the grocery store. Sisters who can’t get by without me. That kind of thing.”
“Right.” He looked as if he didn’t believe her a bit. He stood there, towering in the dark like everything a woman could ever want—except for one thing. He wasn’t watching her with affection warm in his eyes. Just friendship. He shrugged. “That’s too bad. Maybe another time.”
“Sure. Right.” The wonder of the afternoon clung to her, even as the wind grew colder, pummeling her as she made one final wind of the lights, took a step and plugged them into the waiting prong. “We’re done.”
“With the first story, anyway.” Michael’s hand settled on her shoulder, his touch a brief squeeze imparting friendship, when she wanted it to be more.
So much more. What’s wrong with me? she asked herself as his boots tapped across the porch. I’m independent, I have a no-man plan, I have different goals. Why am I feeling like this?
She didn’t know what had happened to her heart. Men ha
d a way of getting in the way of a woman’s goals. She didn’t know why she wanted him to love her. She could only pray he was starting to feel the same way. She clapped her gloved hands together to warm them, watching Michael plug the industrial power cord into the end of the light string.
“Are you awesome ladies ready?” he asked, unaware of her interest. Unaware of how the afternoon had changed things between them—on her end, anyway. Being near him rocked her like an emotional wave. A wave that threatened to carry her away when she wanted to stay firmly rooted to the ground. She turned to Macie and held out her hand. “C’mon, cutie.”
“Okay!” The girl bounded to her feet, slipped her mittened fingers around Chelsea’s and together they hurried down the driveway to get the full effect.
“Ready?” Michael called from the twilight porch.
“Now, Daddy!” Macie shouted.
Lights flashed on, and Chelsea blinked at the sight. Pure white glowing icicles rimmed the entire first story from the garage to the far corner of the house, bringing brightness where there was once shadow. Michael stood in the middle of it, and yet she felt alone in the dark.
Chapter Fourteen
This day had been a huge mistake. Massive. Gargantuan. Chelsea felt Macie’s fingers slip from hers as the girl scuffled down the snowy driveway to meet her father.
“It’s exactly right.” Macie sighed happily. “Now it’s just like Christmas.”
“It really is.” Michael became a tall silhouette against the background twinkling lights as the last dregs of twilight slipped away.
It was better that she could hardly see him. Really, much better. Chelsea dug into her pocket for her keys, needing to look away, needing to be busy as he stalked toward her. She prayed the darkness could hide her feelings as his footsteps squeaked closer on the snow and she tried her other pocket. Nothing. Where were her keys?
“Looking for this?” He towered over her, blotting out the sky. Something metallic glinted faintly in the ambient light.
