A Heartwarming Christmas: A Boxed Set of Twelve Sweet Holiday Romances

by Melinda Curtis

Her phone rang. She waited until she maneuvered through the kitchen door to answer. Christmas orders for pastries had been coming in all day.

  “Noelle Wright,” she said, after she found the cell in her purse and swiped the answer icon.

  “It’s me.”

  She knew his voice. It was fingertips on her cheek, a whisper of reassurance, and stubborn refusal all wrapped into a husky tone that made her shiver in the deep, icy darkness.

  “It’s David,” he said.

  “I know.” She didn’t know why he’d call her.

  “I don’t know how to ask you for help,” David said, his tone thick and far too capable of making her remember feelings she never wanted to experience again. “But I have a case in Boston, and this boy’s in serious trouble. I have to go back tonight, and I could take the girls, but I don’t want them to wait for me in the lobby of the jail or the courthouse.”

  Noelle could not believe her ears. “You want me to look after your daughters?” Beautiful loving girls—but the children he’d had with some other woman. She slumped against the butcher block counter to keep from sitting hard on the floor when her legs inevitably gave way. She’d told him to forget her. She’d told him to love someone who could be the woman he needed.

  She hadn’t believed he would. She’d thought he’d realize he was throwing them and their one, true love away. But only her love had been true.

  “I know what I’m asking, and that I should be too ashamed to even form the words, but you liked Margaret and Evelyn. They liked you. They don’t know anyone else in this town.”

  “Except Santa, but he scares them.”

  “I’m trying to change that,” he said.

  “I wasn’t accusing you of being their problem.” Noelle glanced around the kitchen. If her sister came back, she might hear them talking. Marnie and Chloe's respect meant a lot to Noelle. She wouldn’t want them thinking she’d fall for one of his patented “Just wait for me” speeches again.

  But they didn’t know what she did—how it felt not to be picked as someone’s child.

  She’d finally found her parents like a gift beneath one of Christmas Town’s trees, but David never had a family outside the Children’s Home. That rejection drove him.

  “I know I need to spend better time with my daughters. That’s why I brought them up here where we could escape interruptions.”

  “So ignore this one.”

  “If I could, I would, but this kid made a bad situation dangerous, and I need to help him stay out of jail for the holidays.”

  There’d always be some boy or girl. Some mother whose ex-husband refused to step up to his responsibilities, or two parents who never should have had children. There’d always be someone.

  “You don’t have to commit to your clients. You only have to help them.”

  “I’m trying to. This boy is like us. The world hasn’t been fair, and he’s holding a grudge.”

  Back in this house, with memories of her mother and father dancing in her head, she remembered that every day, each choice a person made actually mattered.

  “I’ll get my stuff and be right there,” Noelle said.

  “That’s another problem.” At least his uncomfortable tone told her he wasn’t any happier with the situation than she or his girls. “I don’t have food here. They hardly even fit in their beds.”

  So he wanted her to risk imprinting her house with the memory of his little girls? When she couldn't help remembering they were supposed to have had a family.

  She clenched her hand in a fist. She was the adult here, and she didn’t have to wallow in self-pity. She’d made the right decision because David hadn’t changed, and she couldn’t have lived with him like this. His girls had no choice.

  She could ask her assistant to look after the shop tomorrow. It was only open a half day on Sunday. “Bring them,” she said. “I’m living back at home. My sister, Chloe, and her husband took over my apartment.”

  “I’ll be out there as soon as I get the girls packed. I can’t thank you enough, and I’ll be back first thing in the morning. As soon as I finish Milo’s hearing.”

  That would mean at least noon.

  “Okay.” She hung up because she might scream if he thanked her. She’d sworn off the addiction that was David Parker, and here he was, barely in town again, with daughters who felt like she had, that he put everyone ahead of them.

  She was even making it easy for him to maintain his habit.

  She just couldn’t imagine this kid, Milo, without seeing David’s face when he’d been young. And even she had left him back in that home.

  “Marnie?” She ran to the stairs. “Marnie, I have company coming. Are you back home?”

  Chapter 3

  “I promise I’ll come back as soon as I can in the morning.”

  Stone silence met his promise as they drove beneath twinkling lights that formed Rudolph leaping across the street that ran beside the green.

  He’d made too many promises. He glanced in the rear view mirror. Both girls were angry. Even Margaret couldn’t pretend to be interested in the snowy shadows passing outside the car windows.

  They’d shoved their things in overnight bags and he’d dragged them out of the house he should have had cleaned. Maybe he should have hired someone to decorate for Christmas.

  “You’ll enjoy hanging out with Miss Noelle. You liked her, and she’ll probably bake you something delicious to eat in the morning.” He checked the rear view again.

  “I’m not hungry.” Margaret grabbed her stuffed puppy that was missing one ear and an eye. She cuddled it beneath her chin as if it were perfect. “Why are you leaving us again, Daddy? Not even Mrs. D'Angelo is here.”

  “Mrs. D'Angelo has her own family in Boston. She can’t look after you while we’re on vacation.”

  “ She doesn’t leave us like you do.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go tonight, for Milo. You met him, remember?”

  “The one who moved in with Aunt Violet?” Margaret asked while Evelyn remained silent and stoic.

  “The boy she adopted.” He wished he could think of a way to tell them how important Milo’s future was without also telling them how hard life could be for a child. He just had to make the boy see he was safe with Violet. “Evvy, after I finish this one meeting tomorrow, I promise I won’t go back to Boston again until we go home after New Year’s.”

  “Stop calling me Evvy.” She crossed her arms. No stuffed animal for her. She refused comfort. “My name’s Evelyn.”

  She didn’t mind being called Evvy. She minded being disappointed. “I won’t leave again, Evelyn.”

  “You always say that.”

  He couldn’t deny it. He was haunted by the memory of those same words in Noelle’s broken voice so many years ago. What was he supposed to learn in this life by failing over and over with everyone who mattered to him?

  ~*~

  Noelle had never made beds so quickly in her life. And she managed two. She put the girls in the room with twin beds that no one had used for as long as she could remember. White, quilted bedding looked puffed like drifts of snow. She opened the drapes to let the moon reveal the sloping lawn and ice-crusted stand of pines that surrounded the property in stark white.

  She hoped it would be cozy and comforting and Christmassy for Margaret and Evelyn.

  She ran down the hall to the playroom where she and Chloe and Marnie had stashed their favorite books. She grabbed a few, but then set them down so she could muscle the little table they’d shared down to the girls’ room.

  She went back for chairs and books. Finally, she thought of the tea set their mom had given her and her sisters to share soon after Noelle had arrived. Her mother and father had said she’d completed their family.

  Noelle wrapped her hands around the fat china teapot, painted with purple flowers on a white background. The tea set had seemed so girly and goofy when her mom first unwrapped it on the kitchen counter. Noelle had hung back. Older than her
sisters had been when they were adopted, angrier than most little girls of nine should ever be, she’d considered breaking the delicate pieces of china that seemed too good for her.

  But Marnie and Chloe had taught her to share—even to cherish the delicate gift as they’d invited their dolls and stuffed animals and imaginary friends to tea, innocently expecting Noelle would be happy to join them at the small, scratched table.

  One tea party at a time, they’d made Noelle believe in their unconditional acceptance. Chloe and Marnie had seemed so normal. If they weren’t afraid, maybe she didn’t have to be either. If they expected their mother and father to love them forever, maybe she could, too.

  Maybe the tea set would work its magic a second time.

  She had another idea. Maybe the girls liked to color.

  She ran downstairs, hesitating at their father’s office door. Chloe had cleaned out most of the room. Even though the house belonged to Noelle now, she felt as if she were trespassing. Chloe, a struggling entrepreneur, had found clues in here that led her to Dad’s faith in her business sense. The room felt like a letter that wasn’t addressed to Noelle.

  The aged clock ticking on his desk reminded her time was passing. David and the twins would soon be here. She wanted to give them the kind of welcome her parents had offered her, with a room designed to make them welcome and happy.

  She went to the computer and found pictures online that the girls could color. While they printed, Noelle found markers in the desk. Her father had shared her fascination with office supplies. Who could resist trying a new pen?

  He’d collected a lot of them, in different colors with different types of points and inks. Noelle picked up as many as she could carry in each hand and took them upstairs to spread them on the table with the pages she’d printed. Then she went and got blank paper and the beaten-up bucket of crayons from the playroom.

  One more thing. She hurried to the sewing room, Marnie’s domain. As far as Noelle was concerned, Marnie could continue to use this room to create her designs. She loved having her sisters in and out of the house.

  Noelle took four tufted pillows off the couch and went to place two each on the twin beds in Margaret and Evelyn’s room.

  “They’ll only be here one night,” she said out loud.

  But she’d been in foster homes for one night and managed to destroy any future she might have had with a family.

  She hadn’t believed she could belong until her loving parents, Doris and Harold Wright, had chosen her and welcomed her home.

  Evelyn and Margaret both seemed to need a welcome.

  The doorbell startled her. She stared around the room, too anxious to see clearly. She didn’t let herself think why she was so worried, but after running around the house, she took her time on the stairs, inhaling several calming breaths before she dragged the heavy front door open.

  David, with his hands on the girls’ shoulders, looked almost as anxious as they did.

  “Thank you,” he said. “We’re all grateful.”

  “I’m glad to have you.” She reached for Margaret’s overnight bag. Evelyn turned hers away so that Noelle couldn’t reach it. Noelle pretended not to notice. “I have to make cookies tonight. A few of the other proprietors in town are taking cookies and a few gifts to the children at the hospital tomorrow. Maybe you guys could help me?”

  Neither girl leapt with joy.

  “But you don’t have to help. David, let me show you Margaret and Evelyn’s room.”

  “I hope we’re not putting you out.”

  “Not at all.” Maybe he had to say that, but she wouldn’t want the girls to feel unwelcome. She shook her head over her shoulder at David.

  “Are you okay?” He furrowed his brow.

  “Fine.” But apparently, not spy material. She couldn’t send a silent signal without looking as if she’d injured herself. “We’re just up here.” She led them toward the stairs.

  He touched her arm, causing her to shiver, though she tried to hide it. “I’m not sure they’ll go to sleep right away,” he said. “They were in bed early, and they aren't used to our house, much less yours.”

  “No problem.” She moved away. “We’ll work it out. Come on up and say goodnight."

  He’d been her friend before they’d fallen in love. He’d spent hours in the playroom, while they were still playing, before they grew up and managed to break their friendship and each other’s hearts.

  She turned in at the room with the twin beds. Margaret went to the bed closest to the window. She dropped her bag on the rag rug Noelle’s mom had found at an antique store and then stared at the bed as if she were waiting for something.

  “Who’s your friend?” Noelle pointed at the girl’s one-eared, stuffed pup.

  “Gary. He sleeps on my pillow. I left my pillow at Daddy’s house.”

  “Our house,” David said, automatically, as if he’d had to remind them many times before. “I’ll go back and pick it up.”

  Margaret turned, hope in her eyes. “Will you?”

  “I like my own pillow, too,” he said. “In our house, with you and Evvy down the hall. That’s why I’m coming back as soon as I can to pick you up.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” Margaret said.

  Evelyn went to him. “Could you get my blanket, too, Dad? It’s on my bed at your—our house.”

  “I’ll be right back with both.”

  The little ones stared wide-eyed. He bent and hugged the twins. Afterward, they backed away, abashed. He walked past her and out the door, leaving Noelle with the girls.

  Noelle had spent many uncomfortable moments in unfamiliar rooms that had just been assigned to her. It wasn’t quite the same thing because Margaret and Evelyn had a father who loved them, who was coming back for them, but Noelle still turned toward the door. The girls might feel more at ease if she gave them a few private moments to put their things where they wanted them. “I’ll be downstairs. Come down when you want. Take your time.”

  “Will you tell us when Daddy comes back?” Evelyn asked, showing unusual confidence.

  “I’m sure he’ll come back up to tuck you in. Would you like some hot cocoa before bed? Or maybe a bite to eat?”

  No one answered.

  She sounded like an elderly housekeeper. Or like a talking sore thumb. It wasn’t any easier to be on the other side of this situation, but David would come back. They might have to wait for him, but he wouldn’t leave his daughters and disappear as her mother had done. She just had to be friendly and distract them while he was gone.

  “Let me know if you want anything,” she said, glancing at both girls and then heading for the hallway.

  David was waiting downstairs.

  “Should I give them a treat?”

  “They already ate.” He looked around the kitchen, uncomfortable in her domain. “I hear Marnie’s still here.”

  “She‘s renovating the chapel. I’ll tell her you said hello.”

  “I know she’ll appreciate that,” he said, his wry tone threatening to make her forget how deeply she resented him. “I’m grateful, Noelle. I can’t imagine what I’d have said if our positions were reversed.”

  “You mean if I’d replaced you like a pair of shoes that got a little worn, and then I’d had two children right away?” She was sorry the second she spoke. “I’m sorry I said that. I don’t have the right, and I don’t want to be bitter.”

  He shook his head, and his patient gaze surprised her. “We never talked about what happened between us, so there’s unfinished business.”

  “We don’t need to discuss it,” she said with a grip on reality. No need to make this worse. “And I do know what you would have said if I needed help. You would have said yes. You always help.”

  He touched her cheek with reproach in his dark eyes. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “That you’re more forgiving than I am? I’d like to have kinder instincts.”

  "I’m not more nurturing, or more forgiving,”
he said. “You said yes.”

  She nodded, smiling. “They’re nice girls.”

  And then there was silence because they’d actually talked about feelings, and Noelle didn’t know where to go from there.

  “The house looks the same,” he said.

  “Mom and Dad didn’t change much. We’re going through it. Chloe’s working on Dad’s office. Marnie’s doing Mom’s sewing room. I have the kitchen—and everything else.”

  He crossed the kitchen to the hallway, looking toward the living room, where the faded chintz couches were still squashy and indented as if her mother and father had just walked out of the room. “No Christmas tree?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I’ve only been back here a couple of days.”

  “I’m surprised Chloe and Ted didn’t want to live here.”

  She turned to the sink. It was a family’s home—far too large for her. “It’s mine. Dad left the old mill to Chloe and the wedding chapel to Marnie. I’m just trying to get used to it again. It feels strange without him and Mom.”

  “I came back for your mother’s funeral.”

  She turned to him sharply. “I didn’t see you.”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to, and Claudia came with me. She wasn’t your biggest fan.”

  “Odd, since I never met her.” She turned on the water in the sink. She had plenty of dishes to wash from dinner. She and Marnie had chatted over the remains of their meal for a while. “We don’t have to talk about the past. I’m doing you a favor for one night. That’s all.”

  “My marriage didn’t work for a reason.”

  “The same old reason. You don’t know when to be grateful for what you have.” She picked up a stack of plates and lowered them into soapy water. She was hardly ever cross with people and now that David was back, she could barely be kind. “And I did it again. I have no business in your past. David, you’re going to be late enough getting back to Boston. You should go.”

  He took her wrist. Soap bubbles drifted through the air between them. She pulled away. “You can’t make it right now. You don’t even need to.”

  He stared at her in silence and then picked up a bright red towel to dry his hands. “I didn’t know I wanted to,” he said.