If only she could keep them all here. Forever. There was nothing like family.
But later, after the Armstrongs had arrived, and Lissa and Mandy had presented her with Martha Stewart’s latest Christmas book, she had a sudden epiphany. Family was important, but family was an ever-growing, always changing animal. The more you opened your heart, the bigger it got.
“Who’s the hunk?” Krysten asked Jamie after dinner as the sisters loaded the dishwasher.
“Just a friend of the family,” said Jamie.
“Hmm. I wouldn’t mind getting friendly with him,” said Krysten. “Is he taken?”
It shouldn’t have bothered her that her little sister was interested in Josh. “He’s a cop.”
“So I guess that means you don’t want him. He’s not like Grant, is he?”
A montage of Josh scenes flashed through Jamie’s mind. She saw him with his daughters, hoisting them onto his shoulders, laughing when he lost at Sorry. She saw him kneeling in the snow, changing that woman’s tire, saw the picture of him in the newspaper, his arms full of food for the food bank. “No, he’s not at all like Grant.” He wasn’t! Well, duh. “I think he’s got someone.”
Emma hurried home from her parents’ house anxious to check on the new baby. It had been so sweet of Sarah and Jamie to give her a cat for Christmas, and the kitten, which she’d christened Angel, had quickly captured her heart. Most of it, anyway.
“Mommy’s home,” she called as she set her grocery bag of presents on the hall floor. A fat little ball of orange and white fur skittered down the hallway, anxious to welcome her. “Have you missed me, sweetie?”
She picked up the kitten and it immediately started purring.
She cuddled it to her and walked into the kitchen. “Are you ready for your Christmas dinner?” Silly question. The new baby was always ready to eat.
She mixed some Kitten Chow with a big spoonful of canned cat food and set the bowl on the floor. “There you go. Eat up.”
Angel crouched in front of the bowl and dug in. “You are such a pretty baby,” Emma informed the kitten as it ate. “Maybe after you’re finished we should put on some Christmas music and do some quilting. What do you think of that idea?” It sounded pretty okay to Emma.
Except it was Christmas and she was finishing out the day on a note of okay? Christmas wasn’t a time to be alone in an apartment. Maybe she’d go over to Sarah’s for a while. They’d be happy to fold her into the crowd.
But no matter how long she stayed, she’d still have to come home alone. “You know what,” she told the kitten. “I think while you’re eating, I’ll just go check in with Tess.” Now that she had a few pennies to spare, she’d been allowing Tess to spend a little money. Tess had bought a new condo and even hosted a Christmas party. “I should have had a Christmas party this year,” she told the cat. “I have some great friends.”
Fortunately, Angel was just a baby and Emma didn’t have to explain about her less than stellar love life.
The doorbell rang. Maybe Jamie was done with Christmas at Sarah’s and had decided to stop by. Emma hurried to the door and opened it.
There stood a man in jeans and a red parka. He wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous like Josh Armstrong. In fact, he had all the makings of a geek: glasses, a cheap haircut, skinny legs, which meant that an equally skinny torso lurked beneath that bulky coat. But he had a cute face and a nice smile, and in his gloved hands he was holding . . . “Pye!”
The black cat launched himself from the man’s arms, landed on the floor, and ran off down the hall, probably anxious to find something to shred while she stood in the doorway, ready to cry with joy. “Where did you find him?”
“My mom actually found him hiding under the bushes out by the back porch,” said the man. “She volunteers at the animal shelter and she saves every lost cat poster she finds. And every cat,” he added.
“Gosh, I looked for him everywhere. Where did you say you live?”
“Oregon.”
“Oregon?” she stammered.
“But my parents live three blocks over,” he added with a smile. “I’m up visiting for the holidays.”
And probably busy with his family. Oh, well.
He nodded in the general direction of the prodigal. “Your cat’s got an interesting name. What’s Pye stand for?”
“Pyewacket. I named him after the cat in Bell, Book, and Candle.”
“Great name,” he said with an approving nod.
She could have kept him standing there talking for the rest of the day. But the door was open, and Pye could run away again. And Angel could follow him right out. “I shouldn’t keep you there, standing in the cold.”
“Then ask me in,” he suggested.
Tess could wait.
Once inside, her visitor pulled off a glove and held out a hand. “My name’s James Stuart.”
As in Jimmy? It had to be a sign.
She shook his hand. It was warm, just like his smile. “I’m Emma Swanson.”
His eyes got big. “Are you the woman with the quilt shop?”
She nodded.
“My mom has bought stuff from you. She’s new here. In fact, she was at that fund-raiser at your shop.” He shook his head and smiled. “I’m sorry I missed that. It sounded like something right out of a movie.”
Emma stared at him. “What did you say?”
“Uh, like something out of a movie?”
“That’s what I thought you said.” She didn’t have to get hit over the head with a cosmic hammer to know what to do next. “How about some eggnog?”
The sugar buzz finally wore off and the girls fell asleep in the car on the way home from the Goodwins’. Josh and George carried them into the house and laid them out in their beds, shoes and all. Crystal would probably have insisted they wake up and brush their teeth. Josh just let them sleep.
He got a beer for his dad and himself and they slouched companionably on the couch. “Man, that was pandemonium,” George said. “All those people, kids running everywhere.”
“Aw, you loved it,” said Josh.
“You need to find a woman.”
Where the hell had that come from? Josh stared at his dad.
“I mean a new woman. I don’t think Jamie’s ever gonna come around, son. She’s damaged goods.”
Josh gave a snort. “Well, Merry Christmas to you, too,” he said, and took a long drink of his beer.
“I’m just saying I think you might need to know when the game is lost. That’s all.”
“I know.” Josh walked to the living room window. “It’s starting to snow again.”
“I thought this place didn’t get a lot of snow,” Dad said in disgust.
“Me, too. Oh, well. The girls will love it.”
“Yeah, they’ll love dragging their poor, old gramps out in the cold is what they’ll love,” Dad said grumpily. He picked up his half-finished thriller, ending the conversation.
Josh continued to stand by the window, watching the flakes fall. If Crystal was here she’d have dragged him outside for a walk. If Crystal was still alive . . . But she wasn’t. He downed the last of his beer and dropped the bottle in the recycle. He felt restless. Maybe he’d take a walk in the snow by himself. A walk down Memory Lane, he thought bitterly. It looked like memories were all he was going to have.
“I’m going out,” he announced.
“Go ahead,” said his dad from behind his book. “Freeze your balls off.”
Not a bad idea. Maybe life would be easier if he could forget he was a guy. He put his coat back on, shoved his feet into his boots, and slipped out the door. The snow was already coating everything white, including the street. He was glad he had the week off. Tomorrow would be a fun day, filled with fender benders and grumpy commuters.
He was halfway down the block when a familiar Toyota came sliding down the street. It skidded to a crooked stop at the curb. The passenger window slipped down. “It’s snowing,” Jamie informed him.
“Y
eah, I noticed.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to get stuck. Would you mind driving me home?”
Actually, he would. Dad was right, the game was lost. What was the point in staying on the field?
But he couldn’t let her drive off alone. She’d wind up in a ditch for sure. He walked around to the driver’s side. “Move over.”
She obliged and he climbed in behind the steering wheel and moved the seat back. “This car is a tin can,” he grumbled.
“I’m thinking of getting a new car. Something a little bigger.”
“Why bother? This works for you, and you probably get pretty good gas mileage.”
She frowned slightly, like he’d said something wrong.
“How did you like my family?” she asked.
“They’re great. The girls had a good time.”
“I’m glad. My sister liked you.”
“Yeah?” What, now she was setting him up with her sister? Well, why not? It was time to move on. He should do that. What kind of perfume was Jamie wearing, anyway? It smelled good.
She didn’t say anything more. Instead, she hiccupped.
Josh frowned at her. “Okay, why are you nervous now?”
“I’m not,” she insisted.
She really was the world’s worst liar, but he let it go.
They were almost to her driveway when Jamie suddenly blurted, “I told her you were taken.”
He almost slid off the road. “What?”
She hiccupped again.
Now what was going on in her head? He nudged the car through the snow up to her house. They both got out and he walked around to the passenger side and held out her keys. “Here you are, home safe and sound.” He remembered the last time he’d brought her home in the snow. He’d wanted so badly to come in.
This woman was both his best dream and his worst nightmare. Things had never been this complicated with Crystal. Was she up in heaven, laughing at him?
“Would you mind coming in and building a fire?” Jamie asked in a small voice.
Did she have any idea how she was torturing him? “Yeah, actually, I would. I’m sorry, Jamie. I don’t know what is going on in your head, but I can’t do this.”
“I’m not sure I can, either, so I’d really appreciate it if you’d give me some help.” She grabbed him by the coat and pulled him toward her.
Surprised, he let her.
Now they were standing body to body, heart to heart. She reached up and took his face in her mittened hands. “I hope you bend,” she murmured.
He did. And then his lips touched hers and that was all it took to start a bonfire. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her long and thoroughly. She finally pulled back, looking slightly dazed. He hoped Crystal was smiling. He was.
He took Jamie by the hand. “Come on. Let’s go inside and build a fire.”
A NEW SEASON
A newcomer to Heart Lake on this Saturday afternoon might have thought that there was a big January sale going on somewhere down by Emma’s Quilt Corner. In spite of the dusting of snow on the ground, every parking space on downtown Lake Way was taken and a good-sized crowd of people milled along both sides of the little no-name cobblestone street in their coats, hats, and mittens.
Emma, Sarah, and Jamie stood up toward the front of the crowd with their nearest and dearest, taking it all in.
“I can’t believe this turnout,” said Jamie.
“A lot more than at our kickoff meeting,” Emma agreed. “I think maybe we did make a difference.”
Sarah gave her a one-armed hug. “You bet we did.”
“I think everybody’s here now. It would be nice if we could get on with this before our tails freeze,” said Jamie.
“Don’t worry,” said Josh, hugging her from behind. “I’ll keep your tail warm.”
Emma’s new boyfriend, James, had driven up from Oregon to help her celebrate the success of their good-deed campaign. He smiled at that and took her gloved hand.
“Oh, good. Finally,” Jamie said as the excited crowd parted to let Mayor Quinn through.
“Always making an entrance,” Sarah said in disgust.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t take too long to make an exit,” said Jamie, hunching her shoulders against the tiny snowflakes that were starting to fall.
Now the mayor was in front of the new street pole at the corner. Its top was covered with a big sheet of canvas held on by a giant red ribbon bow. She raised her hands for silence. “As you all know, we are honoring three special women today. It’s easy to take the place where you live and the people you live with for granted. Thank you, ladies, for saving us from that.” The crowd exploded into applause and hoots as she awarded each woman with a commemorative plaque and shook her hand.
“Thank you,” Sarah said, speaking for all of them. “A town can’t come together unless everyone cooperates. Many of you were at the grange earlier this week and shared some of the good things you’ve been doing for each other, and that just proves my point. The honor belongs to all of you.”
Her speech earned even more applause than Mayor Quinn’s. Madame Mayor almost managed to look genuine when she smiled and hugged Sarah as everyone clapped.
The mayor reached up and pulled off the bow and the canvas with a flourish to reveal the new street sign. “I now declare this street Angel Lane in honor of our three good angels, Sarah Goodwin, Emma Swanson, and Jamie Moore.”
“Wow,” breathed Emma as everyone clapped and hooted.
“Just like in a movie,” said James, putting an arm around her shoulder.
The little no-name alley now had a name, and Heart Lake was, hopefully, a more closely knit town. Mission accomplished.
There was nothing left to do but celebrate, so the three friends and their biggest fans went to the Family Inn for pie and coffee.
“I feel like I’m married to Mother Teresa,” said Sam, as the waitress freshened his coffee cup. “You could probably run for mayor right now and win by a landslide.”
“Don’t tempt her,” said Jamie with a grin. “There’s probably nothing she’d like better.”
“Good point,” said Sam. “And if you became mayor I’d really never see you.”
“Don’t worry,” Sarah assured him, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got my hands full keeping you in line. The last thing I need is to have to worry about a whole town. But it felt good to know that I’ve made a difference right here where I live.”
“I agree,” said Emma. She smiled at James. “And tonight I feel like the luckiest woman alive.”
“Second luckiest,” Jamie corrected, taking Josh’s hand.
“Well, then, here’s to three lucky women,” said Sarah, raising her coffee cup. “And to giving season. May it last all year long.”
FAVORITE RECIPES
Sarah and Jamie thought you might enjoy
making some of their favorite recipes.
Happy eating!
From Sarah
HERBED BISCUITS
2 cups flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary
½ cup butter, room temperature
cup milk
1 egg
Sift dry ingredients into a mixing bowl. Cut in butter as for pie crust, then add the milk and egg. Mix until you have dough, but don’t overmix. Roll out dough into a 1¼-inch-thick round and cut with a biscuit cutter (or cut into squares with a knife). Bake on ungreased cookie sheet for 20 minutes at 350°.
Makes 6 to 9 biscuits, depending on what size you cut the biscuits.
RAISIN PIE COOKIES
FILLING
1 cup raisins
½ cup sugar
½ cup water
2¼ teaspoons flour
teaspoon cinnamon and nutmeg
COOKIE
3½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
/> 1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup sugar
1 cup shortening
1 egg
½ cup milk
Mix all of the filling ingredients in a small saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until thick. Remove from heat.
Cream together shortening and sugar in mixing bowl, then add egg and milk. Sift dry ingredients and add to sugar, shortening, egg, and milk. In manageable batches, roll out the dough to about ¼-inch thickness (as for sugar cookies). Cut out with round 6-inch cookie cutter (or, if you don’t have one, a drinking glass), and lay out rounds on ungreased cookie sheets. Reserve enough rounds to top each bottom round.
Put 1 heaping teaspoon of filling on top of each cookie round. Top with remaining rounds and then crimp the edges together as if making a little tart. Bake for 15 minutes at 350°.
Note: This recipe makes approximately 28 cookies, depending on whether you use a biscuit cutter or make your cutouts the old-fashioned way, using a drinking glass. You might be able to squeeze out another cookie or two from the dab of dough left in the bowl, but Sarah prefers to either toss it or let her granddaughters play with it as this kind of dough can get tough after too many encounters with the rolling pin. Anyway, making creations out of leftover cookie dough is a great way to introduce little girls to the fun of playing in the kitchen.
PUMPKIN COOKIES
COOKIE
½ cup butter
½ cup shortening
1 cup sugar
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup canned pumpkin
1 egg
1 cup raisins
½ cup chopped walnuts or pecans
FROSTING
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon cream cheese, room temperature
4 teaspoons milk
½ cup brown sugar, packed
Angel Lane Page 25
