“That project is there for a reason. I thought you’d want the loom to seem as if it’s in use, so I started a red, white and green tablecloth I’ve wanted to make every Christmas for five years.” She grinned. “I’ll write down the treadling, and you can work on it whenever you want this week.”
“In my free time,” she said, chuckling as she glanced at the open boxes and bags strewn around the parlor.
“Looks like you’re getting a handle on it,” Tessie said. “Oh, I almost forgot. In the seat of the truck I have another accessory I thought you’d like. Be right back.” She returned quickly with a rattan basket filled with skeins of red, white and green yarn. “You can set this next to the loom, maybe.”
“Definitely.” Anna placed the basket on the floor to one side of the loom. “That looks terrific. Tessie, you have quite an eye. Ever thought of interior design?”
“Sure. But I like living in Sumersbury, so I run a yarn shop, instead.”
Anna nodded. “Point taken.” She picked up a green satin ribbon from the box on the sofa and absently wound it around her finger. “Sam would like me to move here permanently. He thinks I’d love it.”
“Maybe you would.”
“Maybe.” She pulled the ribbon tight. “But I don’t think I could make a living in interior design in Sumersbury either. Sam wants me to try something else.”
“You mean becoming a weaver, like Hilary?” Tessie smiled. “He may think that’s an option, but I don’t know.” She surveyed the room thoughtfully for a while. “I remember what this room looked like when Hilary was alive,” she said. “She may have shared your talent for weaving, but not for this sort of work. The place looks fantastic.”
“Thank you,” Anna said, surprised by the unexpected compliment.
“If this is an example of what you can do, I….” Tessie glanced away.
“What?”
“Forget it. It’s none of my business. This is between you and Sam.” She gazed at Anna and laughed softly. “That’s what comes of living in a small town too long. You really begin to think you should mind everyone else’s business for them.”
“Tessie, you’ve been a friend to me and I don’t consider you a meddling person. I cherish your advice. Please finish what you were about to say.”
Tessie hesitated. “I just think you should be careful about discarding something you do so well. Sam’s wonderful. He’s one of my favorite people in Sumersbury. But this—” She waved her hand around the room. “You have a gift for this. Since you’ve been foolish enough to beg my opinion, I’d advise you to find a way to have the man and the career.”
She thought about that for a moment. “I’m not sure how well that would fit in with Sam’s vision of our future,” she said. “And who knows? Maybe I’d love weaving full time. I’ve never had the opportunity to find out, but I’ve certainly enjoyed the projects I’ve been working on so far.”
“You see?” Tessie smiled and held up both hands. “You could take my advice and be furious because I convinced you to give up your country idyll, where you would have been much happier than slaving away in the city. Forget what I said. What do I know?”
“I’ll bet you know how to decorate a Christmas tree.”
“I’ve managed a few in my time. This one?”
“No, Sam and I will tackle that tonight, with his family ornaments. But I have to do some creative things with the others.”
“Others?”
“This is a Christmas tree farm.” Anna grinned. “We have one in every room, even the bathroom.”
“Good grief.”
“So I thought if I bribed you with a cup of hot coffee you might help me.”
Tessie shrugged. “Why not? I closed the shop early today because, starting Monday, I won’t have a break until Christmas Eve.”
“Meaning I won’t get you over here again all week?”
“That’s right. You’re on your own, unless you’d like to call Estelle for a coffee klatch.”
“I’m coming to appreciate Estelle’s admirable qualities, but no thanks. Anyway, it’ll be good for me to fend for myself this week. I can really test this country living.”
“That’s what this week is, then?” Tessie lifted her pale eyebrows.
“Yep.”
“Then I hope it gives you the answers you’re looking for. Let’s go make that coffee and then we’ll trim your trees. I vote we begin with the one in the bathroom. I’ve never decorated a bathroom Christmas tree, and I love new experiences.”
* * *
At nine that night the last buyers left, an eight-foot spruce tied to the luggage rack on top of their station wagon. All of Sam’s helpers, including John, had gone home to their families around seven, but a persistent trickle of customers had kept Sam outside for another two hours.
He came in the back door stomping his feet from the cold. An erratic tapping noise alerted him that either a woodpecker was loose in the house or Anna was pounding in nails. “Anna?” He loved being able to call her name when he came in from the day’s work.
The tapping stopped. “In here,” she called from the parlor.
He took off his gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of his jacket before taking it off and hooking it over the peg by the door. Despite the sheepskin gloves, his hands felt like ice. He blew on them as he walked through the house to find her.
She was balanced on a step ladder, hanging gingerbread cookies from the beams while a fire crackled on the grate. Firelight danced in her hair, making it seem to curl down her back like flame. He wondered how he’d ever enjoyed this house without her in it. “The place looks fantastic already,” he said when she turned to smile at him.
“No more customers?”
“If they show up, we’re not answering the door. Anybody who wants a tree this time of night can get it somewhere else.”
“I’m almost finished with these, and then we can have some soup and toasted cheese sandwiches.”
“That sounds perfect. Need any help with that?” He was torn between wanting to haul her off the ladder for a kiss and wanting to watch her earnestly decorating his home. Their home someday, he hoped.
“I’ll just be a minute.” She rapped a finishing nail into the heavy beam. Soon a gingerbread Santa dangled from the beam, suspended by a red ribbon. “A couple more and I’ll quit.”
“In the meantime I’ll go upstairs and wash off some of this grit.” A quick shower might be in order after the day he’d put in and the night he had in mind.
“Take a look around while you’re up there,” she called when he reached the landing. “Tessie and I accomplished a lot before she left this afternoon.”
Before he stripped for his shower he did as Anna suggested and was entranced by the effect she and Tessie had created. During the original redecorating, Anna had given one of the two small bedrooms a feminine look and the other a masculine one. “I know it’s stereotyped,” she’d said, “and if there were real kids in these rooms I’d gear them towards their interests, but for the cameras it provides a nice contrast.”
Her reference to “real kids” in those rooms had made his gut twist with desire for the family he craved, but he hadn’t let on. Instead he’d admired her choice of a white eyelet spread for the girl’s room and a bold red-white-and-blue pattern for the boy’s room. She’d borrowed some old dolls from her friend Vivian and these sat in a rocker in the girl’s room. The phantom boy possessed Sam’s toy airplane and his cherished fire truck, both displayed on an old leather trunk.
He paused in the hall outside the boy’s room, the room that had, in fact, been his while his grandparents were still alive. A multicolored glow lit the room, and he remembered with a sweet pang that his grandparents had put a tree in his bedroom the years he’d been at the farm for Christmas, and he’d drifted off to sleep each night with that same gentle rainbow washing the room.
He stepped inside to savor the memories. The four-foot tree in the corner was decorated with toy-shaped wooden ornaments and l
ots of candy canes. Because the ornaments followed a theme, the final effect was more professional than anything his grandmother had ever created, and therefore less personal, too, but he loved the room anyway. All it lacked was a boy, a son — his and Anna’s. He wondered if she’d considered that, even a little, while she worked on this room.
The girl’s room twinkled with miniature white lights scattered over the tree like stardust. For decorations Anna had wound a garland of lace around the branches and fastened a bevy of pink bows at the tips. Sam easily imagined a little girl with strawberry curls asleep beneath the eyelet.
Even though he wasn’t personally eager for the television crews to arrive, he looked forward to showing off Anna’s work. He regretted that the filming was scheduled for daytime, because the real magic of these rooms came through now, when the tree lights were the only illumination in the soft darkness. During the day the lights wouldn’t show up at all, something she must have realized. She could have eliminated lights from all the extra trees.
He walked into the master bedroom, thinking about that as he admired the blue-and-gold beauty of the eight-foot pine that greeted him there. Sexy, but she could have left the lights off this one, too. The blue and gold ornaments picked up the colors of the quilt, the woven blanket and the plaid armchair and ottoman. All of that was logical, but why had she gone the extra mile with blue lights?
The only possible answer was a desire to reach beyond the requirements of the television special and decorate for him. He liked that explanation, and he whistled as he took a shower in the bathroom. He left the overhead switch off and soaped himself in the cheerful glow of red lights wound around a tiny live tree sitting in a redwood pot by the bathtub.
When he came downstairs again he complimented her on the job she’d done in the bedrooms and bath, but he didn’t raise the subject of the lights until later, when they began the task of decorating the ten-foot tree in the parlor.
“You realize the filming in the house will be during the day,” he said casually as he climbed the stepladder with a strand of lights for the top portion of the tree.
“Yes, I know.”
“So for the special, tree lights aren’t really necessary, I suppose.”
“True, but you want them for yourself, don’t you? Especially on this one.”
“Yes, I do,” he said, gazing down at her with a smile. “I love the lights on all the trees, and I felt as if they were turned on just for me when I went up there tonight. Thank you, Anna.”
She flushed a delicious pink. “I guess the professional designer got carried away. I knew the lights weren’t necessary, but I also knew how the rooms could look at night if the trees had them. The expense wasn’t much, so I did it.”
“For me,” he said softly.
She nodded.
He gazed down at her. “How I love you, Anna Tilford.”
“I love you, too.”
“Let’s trim the tree tomorrow night,” he said, backing down the ladder.
“But I thought you wanted—”
“I want you out of those clothes and covered with blue light.” He put the strand he’d been holding on the floor and guiding her toward the stairway. “I want to make love to you in the glow from a Christmas tree, and this one will take far too long to decorate.”
“I’ve been picturing you in blue light, too,” she acknowledged with a smile.
To his delight, once they’d undressed and thrown the covers back on the sleigh bed, she took the initiative, kneeling above him to offer a taste of her breasts. He captured the swaying nipple greedily and tugged a moan from her lips as he applied gentle suction. Meanwhile he roamed her body with eager hands, sculpting her waist, her hips and the seductive triangle that brushed so tantalizingly, yet wouldn’t settle, wouldn’t allow him to find her soft center.
Twice he’d reached for the package beside the bed, and twice she’d caught his hand. “Not yet,” she murmured.
He cradled the weight of her breasts, damp from his lips and tongue, and admired their graceful curve outlined in the blue glow from the tree. The light made her look unreal, a creature from his lusty imagination, a mythical woman who appeared like magic in his bed.
The fantasy continued as she kissed her way from his throat to his chest, from his belly to the focus point of all sensation. He gave himself up to the ecstasy created by this blue goddess with the clever lips and tongue. He might become addicted to blue light, he thought as she drove him to the edge of control.
When he was convinced he could stand no more, she reached for the package herself, and quicker than he could have imagined, she finished the task and moved astride him. He gazed with rapture at the play of blue across her undulating body as she loved him. The view was terrific, and he realized what he sacrificed every time she was under him and blocked by his shadow and weight.
“I love you in blue,” he said, grasping her rolling hips and urging her to a faster pace.
“And I…just plain…love you,” she whispered, taking her cue and giving him the increased friction he sought.
The dream quality of the blue light combined with her sensuous rhythm snapped his control. He gripped her soft body as spasms rocked him and he gasped out her name. This is forever. The thought streaked across his heated mind like a comet while her cries of completion rained down on him. This is forever.
As he gathered her close in the shuddering aftermath of passion, he vowed that once the craziness of this week was over, he’d ask her to be his wife. To live with him in Sumersbury and fill the two bedrooms with children born of their love. He could see no other future but that. No other options made sense.
Twelve
Anna had overestimated the time she’d need to decorate Sam’s house and how much time Sam would have for her. The phone rang constantly during the day as she fielded calls from Estelle and other townspeople. In addition, staff members from the White House called regarding Sam’s tea with the First Lady, an honor he’d received in exchange for providing the White House tree. The television network also relayed messages through Anna. Unfortunately, playing receptionist wasn’t her idea of fun.
Sam took his few spare moments to return the calls, including one to his mother, who was furious that she and her husband were forced to stay at a nearby inn instead of Sam’s house. When Anna asked if his mother and her husband should be allowed to use the two twin beds upstairs, Sam had explained that his mother wasn’t a careful guest and might ruin the effect Anna had worked so hard to create. He’d reiterated that his mother’s only motivation was to increase her chance of jumping in front of the television camera.
Anna fussed with the house as much as she dared, adding candle arrangements, wreaths and garlands until she feared overdoing the decoration. She completed a large part of Tessie’s tablecloth project on the loom, and she even approached John about helping to cut and stack Christmas trees.
“Hell, no!” John had boomed out, picking up a wrapped tree and tossing it onto a stack in the barn. “Sam said this is your vacation, or it’s supposed to be. You had to decorate the house and all, even so. Relax, girl! Take a walk. Read a book. Watch TV. And if you’re really lookin’ for somethin’ to do, pray for snow.”
She had never been much of a television watcher, and she couldn’t seem to concentrate on reading. So she’d taken walks along the country lane. Sometimes she’d perched on a rock wall and thought about her future. She had no faith that she could make it snow, so that part of John’s suggestion had gone unheeded.
She’d hated to admit boredom to herself, much less to Sam. Every evening he’d looked so happy to see her there, waiting to share a late supper and tales of the day. But he’d been too tired for the games of Parcheesi and Kentucky Derby they’d promised each other they’d play.
In their conversations she’d tried to sound cheerful and busy and hadn’t mentioned how she itched to work on the design projects she had under contract in the city. She also hadn’t told him about her impulses
during the day to call Vivian at the store, just to hear her sassy, big-city accent.
When she’d been in Sam’s arms, making love in the sleigh bed, she’d temporarily forget the store and her clients, the thrill of completing a difficult assignment and the challenge of budgets and unusual tastes. But when he hadn’t been with her, the house had been empty and quiet, far too quiet. She’d even begun to miss the honking taxicabs.
She was demented, she thought. Any normal person would relish a chance to spend a week in the healthful environment of Sumersbury, away from noise and car exhaust and buildings that blocked the sun. Yet all those things were a part of the excitement she craved. Not that she didn’t love the country, too. She did. The problem was, she wanted both.
The snow began at noon on Thursday, and the people of Sumersbury acted as if the sky had filled with dollar bills. In a way it had, Anna realized, because now the tree cutting ceremony had a real chance of looking the way everyone in town hoped it would. Sam reported that the pond was freezing fast. By five o’clock, tree cutting operations were ended because of the snow.
No one came to buy trees that night as the snow fell thick and fast, but that didn’t free Sam to spend time with her. The telephone rang constantly. It seemed everyone involved in the event required personal reassurance that everything was under control.
The townspeople wouldn’t be called upon until Saturday, but Sam had to face the cameras on Friday afternoon, when the interior of the house would be filmed. Friday evening, his mother and stepfather would arrive in Sumersbury and so would Vivian and Jimmy. The extravaganza was about to begin.
As they climbed the stairs to bed, they were both edgy, a feeling that was compounded by her dawning realization that she couldn’t be a full-time country girl. Their lovemaking that night reflected their uneasiness.
“It’ll be better after this is all over,” he told her as they both tried to shake off their individual cares and concentrate on each other. “What we need is some peace and quiet.”
A denial was on her lips, but she kissed him instead of speaking. Now wasn’t the moment for her to reveal her uncertainties about their future together. The next two days would be stressful enough without adding that to the mix.
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