By her own strength and force of will, she had carved out a life for herself. Had studied and worked and become an attorney, then had forced herself to give it all up to start over again because of her innate sense of right and wrong.
“I’m here now,” he murmured. “And if it’s okay with you, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
He paused, the words he’d never said to another woman hovering on his tongue. Though some part of him warned caution, he disregarded it. She was the bravest woman he knew. He could at least show a little of that courage. “I might as well get this out there while we’re laying our cards on the table. I’m in love with you, Becca.”
The echo of his words seemed to hang in the air between them as she stared at him silently for a moment that seemed to drag on forever. Just as he was beginning to think he had spoken too soon, her features seemed to light up from the inside like the sparkle of Christmas lights gleaming under snow—a brilliant, beautiful smile unclouded by worry or stress.
She took his breath away, this woman who had become so vitally important to him.
“That’s good,” she murmured. “That’s, um, really great, since I feel the same way about you.”
She kissed him again and he tightened his arms around her, wanting to stay right here for the next, oh, fifty or sixty years. For a start.
She had never dreamed she could be so happy. Joy seemed to pulse through her like her heartbeat, strong and insistent, a beautiful comfort. Monica was gone, she was much closer to official guardianship of Gabi than she would have imagined, and this strong, wonderful man was holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.
Happy didn’t begin to cover it.
The old clock on the mantel chimed softly, a gentle sound in the quiet hush of the house. Oddly, she imagined she felt her grandfather’s presence and she wished again that she’d had the chance to know him. A long, twisting road had led her to this moment, she thought, but right now she wouldn’t have changed any step on that journey.
The chimes stopped and she looked out the window at the snowflakes drifting down through a moonbeam that must be shining through the clouds.
“It’s midnight,” she whispered. “Merry Christmas.”
He kissed her again, his body warm and solid against hers. Perfect.
“I should go,” he said after more long, delicious moments. “You need some sleep.”
“Don’t go.”
He raised an eyebrow and she could feel herself blush. “That’s not what I meant. Well, it’s what I want, just not quite yet. I mean …”
He laughed and kissed her forehead. “I know what you mean.”
“I still have to play Santa Claus and set out the presents I bought for Gabi. I want everything to be perfect. Her first real Christmas. I know how you feel about Christmas and I don’t blame you a bit, but … would you stay and help me?”
“I can’t think of anything else I’d like to do more.”
He gave a slightly wicked smile. “Well, okay, I can think of a few things. But this will do for now.”
He helped her carry the presents up from the corner of the dirt-floor cellar where she’d hidden them inside boxes. It took more trips than she had expected and she was surprised by the pile of presents that had collected over the past few weeks.
As they laughed and joked, setting things around the tree, she fell further and further in love with him. Just when she thought she couldn’t be filled with more happiness, somehow she managed to find a little extra room inside.
When they finished the last trip, she stood back and looked beneath the tree, full from floor to bottom branches with presents.
“I’m afraid I might have gotten a bit carried away,” she admitted. “I wrapped things as I bought them and I didn’t catch the full impact until now, when I see them all together like this. Do you think it’s too much?”
“I think it’s just right. Gabi will be thrilled.”
Grunt waddled over in front of the presents and plopped his hindquarters down, gazing at them both with an expectant sort of look.
Becca laughed. “Now, if only he would stay right there for the next five hours or so until she wakes up.”
“Probably not much chance of that,” he said with a smile of his own. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”
“I never have been before. Christmas has always been just another day to get through. This year is different.”
She paused, and for some ridiculous reason, she felt tears swell in her throat. “It’s wonderful. The most perfect Christmas ever.”
“I completely agree,” he murmured, and kissed her again while the tree lights twinkled around them and the snow drifted down lightly outside and the ugly little dog looked on with an approving sort of smile.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2011
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© RaeAnne Thayne 2011
ISBN: 978-1-408-90369-8
Christmas in Cold Creek Page 18
