by Unknown
“I know where Cassidy lives,” Jessica said to C.J., changing the subject. “We can take my car and I can drive, if you want.”
“Can I ride up front?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” C.J. said. “You’re still little and the safest place to be is in the back seat.” At Jessica’s curious glance, he grinned. “I’ve been reading. Picked up a bunch of those parenting magazines and books at the bookstore after I, ah, got the call. I know more about natural childbirth than any man wants to know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jessica said, laughing, and wondering what it was about this man and this child that had turned her mood sunny side up.
And had her reconsidering the very escape plan she’d put such stock in this morning.
A half hour later Sarah was overdosing on chocolate cake at Cassidy’s house, and C.J. was pulling up in front of Jessica’s house, after driving her back home. In the end, they’d opted to take his truck, a good thing because a mild winter storm started up as soon as they left the house.
Already he was wishing the night didn’t have to end, that he could find a way to extend the moment between them. Because he’d found himself enjoying it more than he’d expected. “Thanks,” he said.
Yeah, there was a real time waster, C.J.
“You’re welcome.” A light snow had started up, dusting the windshield with white powder, coating the streets with a fine sheen. The moonlight hazed through the storm, dropping a veil over the sky. Several houses had their Christmas lights burning, providing a twinkling accent to the snow. Coupled with the Christmas carols playing softly on the truck’s stereo, it all had that special holiday glitter, whispering that something wonderful was on its way.
For a second C.J. watched the snow fall, trans-fixed, wrapped in the spell. Believing in that something wonderful, too.
Until the click of the door handle jerked him back to reality. “Wait,” C.J. said to Jessica. “Don’t go, not yet.”
“I have…” She glanced at the house, then back at him. “I have a minute.”
Where to begin to tell her how grateful he was for her help? She’d smoothed things over with Sarah, so well his daughter had run out of the truck with a wave and a smile, no longer the sullen child who’d refused to look at him. Jessica had done so much more than just give him tips on “girl hair” as she’d worked the ponytails into Sarah’s hair, she’d given him hope.
Hope that if he could figure out ponytails, maybe he could get the harder parts under control, too.
“Thank you,” C.J. said. “You’ve helped me tonight, more than you know.”
“It was nothing.”
“No, it helped Sarah and me turn a corner.” He knew, though, that all of this was probably a temporary reprieve. Soon he’d be on his own. Which meant he still needed that miracle. “If I can prove to you there is Christmas spirit left in this town, will you stay and help me make this a holiday that Sarah will never forget?”
She shifted in her seat to face him, her features delicately lit by the streetlight above, giving her an almost ethereal presence. “You’re going to do that in less than two days? The same man who couldn’t get his daughter’s hair into two ponytails?”
“Hey, those things are tougher than they look.”
“I appreciate your earnestness, Mr. Hamilton, but my plane ticket is bought.”
“Change it. What’ll it cost you, seventy-five bucks to change the date? Leave on December twenty-sixth or New Year’s Eve, I don’t care. Just don’t leave before Sarah has a perfect Christmas.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
“Because I’m her father.” There were more reasons than that, but he didn’t share them. There were simply things he didn’t tell other people, doors he didn’t open. Even for himself.
Yet he could see the lingering doubts in Jessica’s face, and knew he had to offer at least a partial explanation. “I lived my life being constantly reminded that I was the result of someone else’s one-night-in-a-back-seat mistake. I refuse to let Sarah feel that she’s the same, just because things didn’t work out between Kiki and me, and because she didn’t tell me I was Sarah’s real father. Kiki was…” He paused, searching for the right word.
“Unconventional.”
“Exactly. And I may not have any idea how to tie a bow or do a braid, but I do know that I won’t let my child grow up feeling the same way I did. That’s why it’s so important for me to let her know that I care, that she’s important. And the best way I can see to do that is by giving her a holiday she’ll never forget.”
“And in order to do that you have to have me? Why?”
He grinned. “What’s Christmas without Santa and Mrs. Claus?”
But Jessica didn’t reflect his smile. “There is no more Santa. He died two years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” C.J. said, and he was, genuinely sorry for her. It explained a lot, he realized. Especially why she wanted to avoid the holiday.
She sighed. “Ever since my husband died, Christmas hasn’t been the same. As much as I’d like to help you, I can’t. I just don’t believe in the holiday like I used to.” Before he could stop her, she turned and got out of the truck.
C.J. rushed after her, catching up to her on the brick walkway. “Jessica, wait, please.” He caught her arm and she slid a bit on the snow, losing her balance on the slippery stuff, falling into his arms.
She landed against his chest, her face upturned, all green eyes and blond hair and something more. Something he hadn’t seen or had in his life in a very long time.
Something he’d given up hope on thinking he could ever find—or have.
She was warm against him, her body curving perfectly to his. “Sorry,” C.J. said, his voice gruff and rough against his throat. “I made you lose your footing.”
“Yeah.” Her gaze lingered on his a moment longer, before she righted herself. “Well, good night. I hope Sarah has a nice time at the party.”
“What about you?” Curiosity to know more, to find out what made this woman tick, grew inside him. “What will you be doing tonight, Jessica?” He loved the way her name slid off his tongue, almost like candy.
A bittersweet smile crossed her lips and it was all C.J. could do to keep from hauling her to him again, just to erase that melancholy. “Same thing I always do. Same thing I’ve done for the past two years. A cup of tea, a little reading, in bed by ten.”
“And what would you do if someone changed your routine?” He took a step closer, mesmerized by her eyes, the falling snow, the season that seemed to wrap around them, magical in its difference from the California sun that normally greeted his days.
“I don’t…” She paused, tried again. “I like to know what’s coming at the end of the day. It makes it easier.”
Easier for what? he wanted to ask but didn’t. Instead he found himself watching her lips, the tendrils of air that escaped her mouth, frosted by the cold. “And then here I came along and made things harder?”
She nodded, her gaze on his, the only sound around them the soft rustling of leaves being weighed down by the snow, coming heavier now, thicker. Maybe it was the snow. Maybe it was the connection he’d felt when they’d touched. Maybe it was just him being incredibly selfish.
C.J. didn’t know and didn’t care. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
“For what?”
“I’m about to make things twice as difficult.” Before he could think twice, C.J. leaned forward and kissed her holly-red lips, bringing Jessica against him.
She tasted of coffee and snow, of long nights by the fire, tucked beneath a blanket. She was sweet in his arms, soft wherever he was hard, and easy against him. Her arms went around him, and for one sweet moment C. J. Hamilton felt as if he’d come home.
Their kiss was too short, too brief, nearly chaste. And yet it touched something in him that lay deep inside, as quiet as this town. It was a kiss that held the same whispered promise as the snow.
“That probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do.” Jessica’s voice shook a little on the last syllable, the only betrayal that she had been as moved by the moment as he.
“No, it wasn’t,” C.J. agreed, reminding himself that his priority right now was his daughter. Kisses—and what they might hold down the road—would have to wait. “But it did prove one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That a little something unexpected can sometimes be very, very nice.”
She shook her head. “Or just one more reason to leave town. Before something like that happens again.”
C.J. watched Jessica Patterson turn away, climb her walkway and go into her house. The light in the hallway stayed on for a moment, then went off, effectively shutting him out.
She needed a Christmas miracle. And he intended to give her one.
Even if he had to manufacture it himself.
CHAPTER FOUR
“HOW’S COME you’re not dressed in your Mrs. Santa outfit?”
Sarah Hamilton sat in Jessica’s shop, swinging her legs back and forth on a chair just a tad too tall for her. It was another twenty minutes or so until the store officially opened for the day, and Sarah had spent the last five minutes shooting questions at Jessica, one right after the other, like a three-foot-tall machine gun.
When Jessica arrived at work, C.J. had been at the door, asking if he could drop the girl off and if Jessica could watch his daughter for just a few minutes while he ran an errand he wouldn’t name. School was already out for winter break, LuAnn was at a doctor’s appointment, and he was in a pinch. When she’d asked what his errand was, he’d only smiled, distracting her so much she’d barely remembered what favor he’d asked. Before Jessica could get out the words, “I’m not a babysitting service,” he was gone and Sarah had turned into a mini question dispenser.
Jessica peeked over the pile of stuffed white bears, hoping Sarah might have gotten interested in the coloring books and crayons on the round table set up as a “busy center” in the center of the store, so parents could shop while their kids stayed occupied.
Apparently all kids but Sarah Hamilton.
The inquisitive girl didn’t have so much as a burnt sienna in her hands, nary a streak of color on the white pages before her. “How’s come?” she asked again.
“I didn’t want to wear the suit today.” Jessica had no intentions of explaining her entire life story to a six-year-old.
Sarah considered that. She reached for a magenta crayon, picked it up, put it back down again without even streaking the page. Jessica bit back a sigh.
“How’s come you don’t have your tree up?” Sarah asked. “It’s Christmas, you know.”
Jessica glanced at the corner of the store where her seven-foot Christmas tree normally stood.
Every year she’d gone down to the Methodist Church’s tree lot, chosen the best Scotch pine, then hauled it back to the store and decorated it herself from top to bottom—the entire works, from blinking lights to tinsel, all the way to a twirling star on the top.
Then she’d do the whole thing all over again for the tree at home, sometimes setting up two—one in the living room, one in the front room, facing the bay windows that looked out over the street. Dennis, who loved all things Christmas, hadn’t had the patience for the lights, the ornaments and the several-hour tree process. He’d always dropped that particular chore into Jessica’s lap, preferring to put the carols on the stereo and putter around in the back, working on the store’s books or wrapping gifts, rather than throw tinsel onto pine.
So, she’d hummed “Frosty” and set her lights at-winkling alone, every single year—
Every year but this one. This year, the days had seemed to get away from her, and then, once she’d booked the trip to the tropics, buying and decorating a tree had seemed almost silly. A waste of time and money.
Jessica returned her gaze to the center table and realized Sarah was still waiting for her answer. “Because I didn’t have time to get it decorated.”
“I could help you.” Sarah pushed back her chair and ran over to the empty corner, twirling in the space, as if her bright-green-plaid skirt could take the place of the tree. “A tree would look so, so pretty here, too. And I could climb on a ladder and hang the ornaments and string the lights up and even plug ’em in and test ’em. I’d be real careful, too, not to ’lectrocute myself ’cuz if I went to the hospital, that’d be bad. And then C.J. would get really mad, I think.” She brightened again, still spinning. “But if I was really careful, could I help? Could I?”
“Thank you for offering, Sarah, but—”
“That’s okay, I guess.” The girl’s face fell. “Kiki never liked Christmas trees. She said the needles were messy. And the lights gave her a headache. So we never had a tree.”
Jessica knelt before Sarah, catching the miniature human spinning top. “Never?”
Sarah shook her head. “I like Christmas trees. But I never told Kiki, ’cuz she didn’t like ’em and I didn’t want her to get mad. Or get a headache. But she did fun things, like hide the presents under the bed and it was kinda cool, ’cept one time when LuAnn’s cat snuck in our ’partment and chewed on all the wrappin’ paper. That’s how I knew I was gettin’ a Twister game last year.” Sarah sighed. “But I still missed havin’ a tree. ’Cuz they’re real sparkly.”
Jessica looked at the empty corner, which had seemed so spacious five minutes ago and now just looked bare…almost lonely.
Then she glanced again at the little girl, who had gone back to twirling, her arms outstretched, fingertips touching the edge of her skirt as it lifted with the movement, touching the green-tipped hem. She spun and spun, creating magic of her own.
To replace the magic she’d never had.
Mindy had been right, Jessica thought, seeing her undecorated shop for the first time. The store had the Santa theme, but it lacked the usual Christmas touches Jessica always added, the extra oomph she’d loved giving every space at Christmas, all to make up for the barren spaces she’d had as a child. The empty rooms, empty belly, empty fireplace, all markers of an even emptier bank account. Her father had worked hard—when he had worked—and her mother had done her best, with what little she’d had.
It was part of what Jessica had loved about Dennis. His enthusiasm for giving. For spreading joy and gifts to all the children of the town, especially those who had so little. And now she had a child before her who was missing out on one of the simplest joys of the holiday.
A tree.
It was Christmas, after all. The busiest shopping season of the year. A tree was almost a necessity in a toy store. Part of getting shoppers in the holiday mood. And if it helped one little girl find a bit of something she’d never had…
How hard would it be to add some greenery?
“Putting up a Christmas tree is an awful lot of work,” Jessica began, unable to tear her gaze away from Sarah’s twirling, the wistful look in the young girl’s eyes, “and if we’re going to do this, I’ll need you to—”
“Yes! Yes! I will!” Sarah stopped spinning and leaped up and down. “And when we’re done, can I put the star on top? Please? Pretty, pretty please?”
The bell over the door jingled, ushering in several customers and two of the extra helpers Jessica had hired for the Christmas season, as well as Mindy, who’d promised to come by and help for the morning rush, too. Jessica suspected Mindy’s impromptu offer to help ring up sales was more a last-ditch attempt to convince Jessica not to get on that plane tomorrow.
“Hey, Jessica,” Mindy said, whisking some snow off her hair as she came inside. “I think it’ll be a busy day here today. I heard a lot of the moms in the parking lot at the YMCA making plans to stop over here after they finished dropping off their kids at the winter sports program.”
“Great.” The two of them started walking toward the back room,
with Sarah running alongside Jessica, still bouncing up and down with every step.
“Are we gonna go now, Mrs. Claus? Are we? Are we?”
“Sarah, I told you I’m not Mrs. Claus.”
“Oops,” Sarah said, with a smile. “I meant, Mrs. Patterson.”
“Going somewhere?” Mindy asked.
“I promised Sarah I’d take her to buy a Christmas tree for the store.”
Mindy gave her a knowing look. “I thought you weren’t putting up the tree this year.”
“I changed my mind.” Jessica gestured toward Sarah. “Or rather, someone changed it for me.”
“Needing a little extra Christmas spirit, are we?”
