A Very Crimson Christmas (Crimson, Colorado 4)

by Michelle Major

  Epilogue

  Three Months Later

  Natalie’s head broke through the water to the sound of Austin whooping with delight.

  “How do you do such a good handstand in the water, Mom? Your legs are totally straight.” He bobbed up and down in the deep green ocean water of the Caribbean.

  She laughed as she slicked the hair back from her face. “I convinced your grandma to let me take gymnastics when I was a kid. It was my favorite thing.”

  A group of kids called to Austin from a short way down the beach. He glanced at Natalie. “Those are the boys I met yesterday. They’re on spring break from Indiana. Can I go help them with the sand castle?”

  “Of course. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

  Austin swam toward the beach and then, as the water got shallow, ran toward his new friends. Natalie followed him out of the water more slowly, adjusting her new bathing suit as she went. It was modest for a bikini, but showed a lot more skin than her old suit. But any feelings of self-consciousness she had disappeared as her gaze caught on Liam watching her from the lounge chair near the water’s edge. He’d lifted his aviator sunglasses to the top of his head, his eyes held an intense mix of love and desire.

  “Did I hear you say you were a gymnast?” He stood as she got closer, and her body gave its usual tingly reaction to him. His board shorts rode low on his hips and, after four days at the beach, his skin was golden. It gave her an extra thrill to know all that perfection was hers.

  He wrapped a thick white towel around her, bending to nip her shoulder as he did.

  “Two years at the old community center in Crimson,” she said with a smile. “Want me to show you more of my moves?”

  He whirled her around so quickly she squeaked. The kiss he gave her was gentle since they weren’t alone on the beach, but it held the promise of so much more. “I want to see all your moves, Nat.”

  “Thank you for taking us on this vacation,” she whispered against his mouth. “Saint Thomas is more beautiful than I could have imagined.” She glanced toward her son, bent over the sand castle with his new friends. It was perfect on the island, the sun shining and blue skies overhead. A warm breeze blew off the ocean waves. It was hard not to feel content in a place like this. “I don’t think Austin will ever want to leave.”

  “It’s been fun.” With one finger, he traced a droplet of water down the side of her face. “You’ve been fun.”

  Her smile widened. “I’m fun,” she murmured. “Who knew?”

  “I did.”

  Natalie kissed him again, then sank onto the lounge chair, positioning herself so she could keep an eye on Austin. She held Liam’s hand, tugging him down to sit next to her. It was companionable, holding hands with him, their toes together in the sand. She continued to feel that storm of attraction for him, but it was these little moments that meant the most to her. She glanced at the ring on her finger, the perfect round diamond sparkling in the sunlight. Liam had proposed on New Year’s Eve, telling her that this year was a new start for both of them. Joy was like a companion now, always with her when she’d felt alone for so long.

  “What are you thinking about?” Liam asked.

  She rested her head on his shoulder. “How happy I am. I never imagined...”

  She swallowed as her voice caught on the swirl of emotions inside her. She swiped her fingers under her eyes. “Good tears,” she said when Liam pulled her closer. “I cry at everything now. Commercials, songs on the radio. It’s embarrassing.”

  “It’s sweet,” he countered.

  “I never imagined,” she began again, clearing her throat, “this kind of happiness was possible for me.”

  “Love will do that for you.”

  “You do that for me.” It was true. Since Liam had returned with her to Crimson, Natalie had found the strength she needed to make real changes in her life. She would have managed it somehow on her own, but it was so much better with Liam’s love and support. There were still hurdles. She had a date in three weeks for the final custody hearing, and although Brad wasn’t fighting her anymore she’d feel better when her petition for sole custody was approved. Her relationship with her mother was still strained, and Trudy hadn’t accepted Liam yet, but they’d all met for coffee last week at the bakery and it had been almost civil. Baby steps, she reminded herself.

  “How are you feeling about the meeting with your dad?” They were flying through Atlanta tomorrow on the way back to Colorado, with an extended layover to have dinner with Natalie’s father.

  She met Liam’s gentle gaze, no longer needing to hide her feelings. “Nervous but hopeful. The emails we’ve sent and the phone calls have been good. I’m grateful for the chance to get to know him finally.” It had been difficult for her to get the nerve to contact the man after so many years of feeling rejected, but her father had been both apologetic and anxious to know her more. “I’m glad it wasn’t too late.”

  “It’s never too late to have the life you want, to be the person you’re supposed to be” Liam whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You taught me that, Nat. I love you for that and so many other reasons.”

  She sighed. “I love you, too, Liam.” Her voice broke and she waved her fingers in front of her face. “Oh, no, here come the tears again.”

  “Tears of joy or sorrow,” he told her. “I’ll take them all as long as they’re yours. As long as you are mine.”

  “I’m yours forever, Liam. Forever and always.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A HUSBAND FOR THE HOLIDAYS by Ami Weaver.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Special Edition story.

  You know that romance is for life. Harlequin Special Edition stories show that every chapter in a relationship has its challenges and delights and that love can be renewed with each turn of the page.

  Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Special Edition every month!

  Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  A Husband for the Holidays

  Ami Weaver

  Chapter One

  “She’s back.”

  The grim tone of his brother’s voice told Mack Lawless all he needed to know, and his heart gave an unwelcome thump. Still, since he hadn’t heard from the she in question in almost a decade, he deliberately uncoiled more of the pine garland he was hanging on the front of his veterinary practice and kept his voice level. “Who’s back?”

  Chase moved so he was at the periphery of Mack’s vision. Even out of the corner of his eye, Mack could see the tight set of his brother’s mouth. Damn. He willed his hands not to shake. He refused to let on that the mention of her—even indirectly—could still affect him. He came down the ladder, leaving the boughs hanging and ignoring the sting of the snow that pelted his face. “Chase?”

  Chase met his gaze. “Darcy.”

  Darcy. Her name was a hard punch to his gut. Still. After seven freaking years. He’d gotten over her, and yet...

  And yet hearing her name tore the lid off the memories he’d worked so hard to bury.

  He forced himself to hold Chase’s gaze and not show anything but indifference. “Are you sure?”

  Chase nodded. “Saw her at the gas station a bit ago. Thought I’d—thought I should be the one to tell you.”

  The wind kicked up and the tail of the abandoned garland lashed Mack in the face. He winced, caught it and turned back to the ladder. Mack and Chase were planning to bu
y her family’s tree farm after Christmas. He hadn’t thought it would matter to Darcy. She hadn’t been back since their divorce, even to visit her aunt and uncle.

  His brother angled so the wind was at his back. “You okay, man?”

  Irritation flared, but Mack tamped it down. Chase meant well. They all would mean well. As if he was still the heartbroken mess Darcy’d left in her dust all those years ago. “Yeah. It was a long time ago.” He fitted the garland over the next hook and pretended the acid in his stomach was because he’d had a burrito for lunch and not because the only woman he’d ever really loved had returned to Holden’s Crossing. The woman who’d broken him into shards when she left.

  But his damn heart had never fully let her go.

  “All right, then. Let me know if you need anything.”

  In spite of the tension coiling through him, Mack laughed. “Like what?”

  Chase shrugged. “Whatever you need. We can talk to her...”

  “Oh, no. No talking.” He could just imagine how that particular conversation would go. He could almost pity Darcy. Almost. “Leave her alone, Chase. I’ll deal with her when I have to.”

  “If you say so.” Chase jingled his keys, then walked away. Mack heard his brother’s truck start up and forced himself to focus on his task. Now he felt exposed. Anyone who’d seen Darcy, anyone who knew the story—or thought they did—could be driving by right now, staring at him, whispering.

  He hated the whispers.

  He looped the last of the decoration over the final hook and secured it so the winter winds wouldn’t rip it free. Since the weather was steadily getting worse, he opted to leave the Christmas lights for another day. He hoped the wind wouldn’t rip them down—the way Darcy had ripped his heart.

  He closed the ladder and tried damn hard to ignore the mental picture of his ex-wife, with her long coppery locks and golden brown eyes. Damn it. Now he’d have Darcy on the brain after he’d been so successful at getting her out of it. He forced himself to turn away and haul the ladder back inside, banging it hard on the door. He swallowed a curse as pain radiated up his arm.

  “All done?” Sherry’s voice was cheery and he relaxed for a moment. His office manager didn’t know anything too personal about him, thank God. At least not yet.

  “Weather’s getting worse,” he said as he lugged the ladder down to the hall closet. “Wind is picking up, so I’ll finish tomorrow.”

  She gave a quick nod. “You’ve had a bunch of calls in the past half hour,” she said. “Your family, mostly.” She held the messages out, her attention back on the computer screen.

  “Ah. Thanks.” He took them and beat it back to his office. He skimmed through them quickly, then dumped them in the trash. Mom. Chase. His sister, Katie. How sad was it to be a thirty-two-year-old man and have your entire family band together over an ex-wife? Had the whole thing really been that bad?

  He closed his eyes, then opened them.

  Well, yeah, actually it had. Worse, probably.

  He stared out his office window at the snow, which had changed from pellets to flakes. The radio station playing in the waiting area announced, between Christmas tunes, that three to six inches of the white stuff was expected by morning. It’d be a white Thanksgiving. Not uncommon in northern Michigan.

  Darcy’s uncle would be thrilled. And so should Mack.

  Mack rubbed his hand over his face. Had Joe and Marla told their niece how he’d been helping out at the farm? Would she have come back if she’d known? He liked them. He enjoyed the labor of trimming the trees, mowing, whatever Joe needed done on the farm. They’d become friends, even with their shared history, but it was funny how the older man hadn’t mentioned Darcy’s imminent return. Mack was supposed to go out there tonight and help with some of the prep for the tree farm’s official opening the day after Thanksgiving. He wanted to make sure this last year went off flawlessly.

  Canceling wasn’t an option. He knew Joe needed the extra hands more than ever.

  Would Joe inform Darcy of the evening’s plans?

  A small part of him acknowledged the appeal of showing up and seeing her shocked reaction. Letting her see he was fine and completely over her. He’d moved on with his life. Seven years was a long time and he wasn’t that man anymore.

  Maybe she isn’t that woman anymore, either.

  It didn’t matter. He didn’t want to go there. He’d managed to compartmentalize his relationship with Darcy’s uncle away from what he’d had with her. That part of his life was over. At least until now, when it looked as though the past had come back to haunt him.

  Sherry appeared in his door. “Jim Miller and Kiko are here. Jennifer’s not back from lunch yet,” she said, then really looked at him and frowned. “You okay, Mack? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She wasn’t too far off the mark. In a way, he had.

  “I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’ll be with them in a few minutes.”

  As she exited his office, he sighed and pulled up Kiko’s chart on the computer. Kiko was one of many pets he’d see today. Jim and his wife were getting a divorce, and the older man had gotten Kiko, a Siamese cat, as company. Some marriages weren’t meant to be, no matter how promising they started out.

  Like his and Darcy’s.

  He filed the unhelpful thoughts away and went to get his patient, whom he could hear yowling from the waiting room. Still, in the back of his head, all he could think was She’s back.

  His ex-wife was back.

  * * *

  Darcy Kramer drove through downtown Holden’s Crossing, her hometown until she’d fled after the bust-up of her marriage at the young age of twenty-three. She’d always loved the town at Christmas. The cheery decorations, the snow, the old-fashioned charm of the buildings added up to magic for a young girl. Somehow there was comfort in knowing it hadn’t really changed.

  Had it really been almost eight years since she was here? She truly hadn’t intended to stay away so long. Shame tugged at her conscience. She knew Mack’s older brother, Chase, had seen her back at the gas station. The look he’d given her was far colder than the wind that whipped outside. Had he gone straight to Mack? Probably.

  Pain bloomed in her chest. The Lawless family pulled together tight when one of their own was hurt. Except, apparently, those related only by marriage. Those weeks after the accident and the loss of their baby, as her marriage crumbled under the weight of shared grief and her guilt, they’d set themselves firmly in Mack’s camp. And he’d turned to them for comfort, rather than her.

  She inhaled deeply and forced the memories down. To get through these next two weeks, she had to keep Mack out of her mind as much as possible. Her focus was helping her aunt and uncle, who’d raised her after she lost her parents, with their last Christmas season with the farm.

  She gripped the wheel a little tighter. One last Christmas before the tree farm went up for sale. Before he’d died, her father had asked his brother to include Darcy in the final season if they ever sold the farm. So she’d agreed to take two weeks’ vacation from her PR job in Chicago and come home.

  Home.

  Even though she hadn’t been here in many years, it was still her childhood home, entwined in her heart and her memories, both the good and not so good. She’d missed being here. But coming back—and possibly facing Mack—hadn’t been an option. Until now.

  She accelerated as she exited the town limits. The steadily falling snow wasn’t yet sticking to the roads, though it was starting to coat the grass. Figured, she’d get up here just in time for the first real snow of the season. Good timing, really. The snow added to the festive holiday atmosphere Kramer Tree Farm prided itself on.

  She flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. Two weeks. She could do it. Then she could go back to Chicago and her carefully ordered life. She’d worked s
o hard for some measure of peace.

  She turned on the road leading to the farm. Right away she saw the fences lining the property by the road were faded, even broken in some places. She pulled over in one such spot and got out, zipping the down vest she wore over a fleece jacket to her chin as she walked over to examine the broken board.

  The chill that ran through her had nothing to do with the cold. The farm’s financial situation must be much worse than her aunt and uncle had let on. Why hadn’t he or Marla said anything to her? She’d offered help over the years as her career took off, but they’d always turned her down. She touched the jagged end of the wood, and tears stung her eyes. Her uncle and father had always been so adamant about the appearance of the farm. She swallowed hard as she looked out over the field beyond, with its neat rows of trees. Those, at least, looked well cared for. The wind bit through her fleece jacket and she folded her arms tight over her chest as she walked back to the car.

  The farm entrance came into sight up the road and she turned into the drive with a sense of trepidation. She drove past the low-slung barn that housed handmade wreaths and other decorations, relieved to note at least here the fencing here was in good shape and the area was trimmed festively. There were a half dozen cars parked in the lot and she knew inside the barn would be four or five people making wreaths, grave blankets and other decorations. No doubt her uncle was out in one of the fields somewhere, when he should be taking it easy. The road forked just past the barn, and since her aunt had requested she come to the house first, she continued up the driveway.

  The house, a white-painted bungalow with green shutters, already sported lights and garlands and little wreaths hung from wide red ribbons in every window. Smoke curled from the chimney and a sense of relief, of rightness settled in Darcy’s bones. When she pictured home, this was exactly how she thought of it. She grabbed her purse and reached for the door handle.

  But she couldn’t open the door. She’d been gone for so long, for reasons that seemed to pale in light of the farm’s plight. Even though she knew she’d done the right thing for both her and Mack, she couldn’t stop the wave of guilt that washed over her.