by Toni Blake
The animal standing near the storage shed appeared docile, unmoving—and that’s when Sue Ann realized it was firmly tethered on a short rope, which stretched into the bushes next to the shed. Okay, good. The reindeer hadn’t just come here of its own volition, and Santa hadn’t left it behind. She wasn’t losing her mind.
“Mommy! Santa did it! Santa brought me a reindeer!”
“Looks like he did,” Sue Ann murmured, still in awe.
Then she spotted Adam crouched down in those very same bushes. And—oh God—he was the one making this happen; he was the one saving Sophie’s Christmas and making miracles to boot!
As their eyes met through the winter-thin branches, a lump rose to her throat—she wasn’t sure anyone had ever done anything so special for her or Sophie, ever.
And as the seconds stretched out into a long, wondrously golden moment, tears welled behind her eyes. Because this wasn’t a small thing. It was closer to huge. And she didn’t know how he’d done this, but what she did know was that he didn’t have to. She knew he’d done it because he was a good guy; he was that good man everyone knew him to be. Their gazes stayed connected and she could feel her heart stretching, bending, yearning, wanting.
Sophie, however, hadn’t spotted Adam—she had eyes only for the big shaggy caribou twenty feet away out in the snowy yard. When she finally got over her shock enough to start toward the edge of the porch, Sue Ann had the wherewithal to grab onto her little shoulder, pulling her back to say, “Wait.” Then she reached inside for the kid-size snow boots that had last been left on a small rug by the back door. And as Sophie struggled to step hurriedly into them in already soaking wet socks, Sue Ann grabbed her daughter’s old play jacket from a hook inside, along with an old pair of gym shoes for herself.
When Sophie began to approach the reindeer, Adam looked to Sue Ann again, giving her a slight nod, silently indicating that it was safe, and indeed, even as she stepped right up to it, the reindeer stayed still, and Sue Ann could have sworn the animal’s gentle eyes locked with her daughter’s awestruck ones.
“Careful,” Sue Ann called anyway as Sophie reached up to softly pet the deer’s neck. But—oh God—it was quite a sight, and in reality, Sue Ann experienced no fear at all; the moment was that perfect.
“Untie the ribbon on the bag,” Sue Ann said when she sensed the reindeer eyeing the grain Sophie still held. “Then hold some in your hand, flat. Like when we fed them at the zoo, remember?”
Sophie looked back, nodding, and Sue Ann allowed herself to dash back into the house, quickly, just long enough to get her camera.
It was clear to see how Sophie delighted in feeding and petting “Dancer” for a few long and wonderful minutes, occasionally whispering something to the deer that Sue Ann couldn’t hear but found heartrending anyway. And when the reindeer food was all gone, Sophie looked up at Sue Ann on the porch, wearing a great big smile, and exclaimed, “This is the best Christmas ever!”
Sue Ann swallowed the lump in her throat, still trying not to cry. Oh Lord. Adam had done the impossible—he’d taken what could have been Sophie’s worst Christmas and turned it into her best. Talk about Christmas miracles. The reindeer visit—appearing to come straight from Santa—had seemingly wiped away the sadness of not having a normal Christmas with her father there.
So Sue Ann watched for another few minutes, continuing to take pictures, as Sophie spent time with her new friend—and then finally, when she was chilled to the bone and felt certain both Sophie and Adam were, too—she called, “You should say goodbye and come back inside, honey. Remember, the note said he could only stay a few minutes, so I’m sure it’s time for him to go.”
At this reminder, Sophie looked sad and Sue Ann realized her daughter hadn’t even noticed the cold—but still Sophie said, “Okay,” and turned back to “Dancer,” this time actually giving him a hug. Sue Ann bit her lip at the utter poignancy of it, then flicked her gaze back to Adam, still crouched in the shrubbery. And what she saw in his eyes as they met hers . . . oh God, that nearly made her weep, too.
He still wanted her. And he cared about her. And his heart was breaking, too. She knew all that, knew it to the marrow of her bones, just from the expression on his handsome, unshaven face right now—it was all there, nothing held back. Funny, she hadn’t really thought much about that part of it before—his part. She’d thought of her own fears, her own anger, her own emotions—yet she hadn’t much considered his.
But that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make you any safer, any more secure. You have to protect yourself.
“Bye, Dancer,” she heard Sophie saying, and shifted her focus back to her daughter and the reindeer standing in her backyard, looking like some figment of her imagination. “Thank you for coming to see me. It’s the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll love you forever!”
The reindeer let out a slight snuffle then, as if in reply, and Sophie reached up to give him one last gentle pet, just above his nose. “Bye,” she whispered again, then began walking slowly back toward the porch, even as she looked over her shoulder at the deer, their eyes still seeming to connect.
When she climbed the steps, Sue Ann stooped down to give her a big hug, and after a moment whispered in her ear, “See, Santa came through. He didn’t let you down.”
And Sophie pulled back to smile and nod, though there were tears in her eyes now, as well.
Sue Ann gave her daughter another squeeze, then said, “Go back inside and get warmed up. I’ll be right behind you in a minute.”
Once Sophie was safely back in the house, Sue Ann ventured carefully down the snowy steps and through the yard to meet Adam, where he emerged from the bushes. His cheeks were red with cold and he looked so warm and cuddleworthy bundled in his winter coat and hat that it was hard not to give him a hug, too—but she resisted, and instead said, “Thank you. So, so much. You have no idea what this means to her.”
He gave his head a slight tilt and replied, “Actually, I think I do. That’s why I did it. I couldn’t bear the idea of you guys having a bad Christmas.”
Sue Ann just bit her lip, more touched than she could say. Then she asked the obvious. “But . . . how did you do this? How the hell did you come up with a reindeer?” She glanced over at the animal a few yards away, still a little amazed.
Adam simply slanted her a playful look and said, “Come on now—you know I have reindeer connections.”
Then he explained that he’d enlisted Sue Ann’s mom to sneak the reindeer food into Sophie’s stocking late, after they’d gone to bed, and that the man who provided the trees for his lot also raised a few reindeer on his farm. “I totally forgot about that, though, until just last night.” Then, looking over at the deer himself, he said to it, “You and me, we’ve gotten pretty close now, haven’t we?” And when Sue Ann gave him a questioning look, he said, “Truth is, I’ve spent all night with this guy.”
“Huh?” She cocked her head to one side, perplexed.
But he just shrugged. “Takes a while to get a reindeer loaded in a truck. Takes a longer while to get a reindeer unloaded from a truck, by myself, quietly. Thank God this guy’s gentle. And we’ve been out here a few hours now.”
She flinched, her eyes bolting open wider. “A few hours?”
“Wasn’t sure how early Sophie would get up. I mean, it’s Christmas morning. For my boys, sometimes it’s so early that it’s really the middle of the night. And I couldn’t risk not being ready.”
Sue Ann stood before him, dumbfounded, as she took in everything that meant. “You must be exhausted. And freezing.”
He offered up only another easy shrug. “I can sleep all day.”
Oh God. How sad. “On Christmas?”
He must have read her thoughts, though. “Hey, don’t worry. Turns out I’ve already had my Christmas. The boys came home early—yesterday. Got to take ’em to dinner at my parents’ place and then spent the whole evening with ’em.”
Sue Ann let out
a happy gasp, truly as thrilled for him as she was for Sophie right now. “Really?”
“Yep.” A large smile spread across his handsome face. “And damn, was it ever good to see those two little rug rats.”
“I can only imagine,” she said with a smile of her own. “I’m so glad for you, so glad they were here for Christmas.”
“So—yeah, as far as Christmas is concerned, things turned out good. And I’m putting my Scroogy ways behind me once and for all.”
And then she realized he was looking at her—in a different way than he had a moment ago. Before, it had been a pleasant exchange between two parents, but suddenly, now, his expression had transformed into the one she’d seen when their eyes had met a few minutes earlier—an expression that said he still yearned for her the same way she yearned for him.
And it sort of took her breath away. Enough that she didn’t bother trying to eke out very many words—only said, perhaps too softly, “Well, good.”
As that wanting gaze of his continued to pour over her, she thought for a second he might kiss her, standing right there in her snowy backyard as she hugged her big pink robe around her. And she wondered if she’d be able to resist right now. After all, the man had made her daughter’s Christmas wish come true. And he looked good enough to eat.
But then he suddenly went a bit stiffer, standing up a little straighter, and said, “I better get this guy back in the truck.”
“Yeah, right, of course,” she murmured.
“Think you can keep Sophie from looking out the windows for a little while?”
“No problem. We’re going to make Christmas pancakes before Jeff comes to pick her up, so I’ll keep her in the kitchen until I’m sure you two are gone.”
“Sounds good,” he said, then lifted his hand toward the reindeer’s lead line, which she could now see hooked to a strong branch in the shrubbery.
“And Adam,” she said then, fending off the urge to reach out and touch his arm through his winter coat, “thank you again. This was . . . ”
He grinned. “Don’t say it was just nice.”
And a small giggle escaped her as his words drew her back to their post-sex conversations. “It was spectacular,” she said, teasing him. “Amazing. Phenomenal.”
“The earth moved,” he supplied for her.
“And I saw fireworks,” she added with a smile.
But then the humor faded and they were edging back into that nagging, gnawing desire again—only this time she was the one to make them move past it, returning to what he’d done for Sophie. “It really was . . . the most special thing that could have happened for her. She’ll never forget this. And neither will I.”
And still, she nearly melted in the heat from his warm brown eyes as he said, “I was glad to do it, Sue Ann. And glad . . . it made you happy.”
They stood together for another slightly-too-long moment before Adam said, “Well, I’d better get this reindeer back home. And you’d better get inside before your feet freeze off.” He motioned down toward the canvas tennis shoes she’d put on.
“Yeah,” she said. “They’re pretty cold. And I’m sure you are, too. Thanks again.”
He just nodded. And she turned to go, her heart beating far too fast, as usual lately when she was with Adam.
She only allowed herself to look back when she’d reached the porch—and when she discovered him still watching her, she raised her hand in a short wave just before rushing inside, shutting the door, and then leaning back against it. Oh God, he’s sweet. And hot. And still sexy as hell, damn it.
But it’s Christmas. Get back to Christmas. Sophie. Presents. Pancakes.
She found her daughter in the living room, now hugging her stuffed reindeer tight under one arm as she sat on the floor playing with her new dollhouse. She looked more content than Sue Ann had seen her in months.
“Ready for pancakes, my girl?”
Sophie hopped to her feet with a smile, still clutching the stuffed animal. “Yeah.”
But as they headed back toward the kitchen, Sophie said, “Hey Mommy, look—I think Santa must have left something in your stocking, too.”
And, glancing over, Sue Ann realized that, indeed, her red velvet stocking bulged just a little, hanging differently than when it was empty. “Hmm,” she said, figuring perhaps her suddenly sneaky mother had decided it was a good opportunity to leave her some additional small gift while skulking around her house in the middle of the night.
“Let’s see what’s there,” she said, padding over to the fireplace. Then she reached down inside and pulled out . . . an old-fashioned glass Santa ornament, identical to the one that had been broken. As her heart swelled, she saw it had a tag attached, too, just like Sophie’s reindeer food:
Merry Christmas, Sugar Plum.
Love, Adam
Twenty
“He was very much attached to me.”
Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
Jenny, Rachel, and Tessa were all busy with family gatherings that day, of course. But Amy, knowing Sue Ann would be at loose ends, had invited her over to her apartment above the bookstore to watch Christmas movies and nibble on holiday leftovers from a family dinner the night before.
It felt strange to be parking on the now quiet town square, preparing to climb the steps to Amy’s place on Christmas Day. Normally it was her family on Christmas Eve and Jeff’s on Christmas, where Sophie was now. And she couldn’t shake the sense that life felt a little emptier when you had nowhere you particularly needed to be on Christmas Day. Thinking of Adam at home now, sleeping through it, she almost wondered if she should call him up and invite him over, too.
But it’s just another day. You’ll get used to it. Maybe you’ll even like how low key it is.
And Adam clearly needs some sleep, so let him. You don’t need to be spending time with him anyway. Even if what he did this morning was amazingly sweet and special, you can’t let yourself be drawn in like that. Because even if he’d turned down Jeff’s request, the fact that he hadn’t told her about that subpoena the moment he found out, when she’d felt the very closest to him no less . . . well, her trust issues with Adam were alive and well.
And it wasn’t that she thought Adam was trying to draw her in, only that it could happen if she didn’t keep her guard up. And somewhere along the way, self-protection had become the all-important thing here, the thing she couldn’t afford to lose sight of.
As for that antique ornament, she’d been stunned and pleased to have an exact replacement for her grandmother’s, and despite herself, was touched that he’d gone to so much trouble. She couldn’t deny that Adam seemed more than willing to go to extra effort just to make her—and her daughter—happy. But she’d tried to banish those thoughts as she’d hung the ornament on the tree—after removing the tag, of course. Love, Adam it had said. Love.
But lots of people wrote Love on their cards and it just meant “with strong affection.” Although . . . did guys write it that casually?
Well, it didn’t matter—she’d made herself throw the tag in the trash with the wrapping paper Sophie had ripped off her gifts from Santa.
Of course, this meant her mother knew. Well, at least it meant she knew Adam was calling her Sugar Plum, which had probably tipped her mom off that something was going on. And that felt a little weird. After all, what had Adam told her? And what did her mom think about it all? Well, whatever the case, she hoped Adam had also filled her in on the fact that anything that had taken place between them was already over.
Tonight was the big annual Destiny Christmas party at town hall—a tradition Chief Tolliver had started many years ago after his wife had died when Jenny was just thirteen. The idea behind it had been to make sure everyone in town had something to do on Christmas—but now no one ever missed it. So if she didn’t talk to her mom before that, she would see her there. And she figured Adam would be there, too. But him she would just make a point of avoiding. For the sake of her heart. She’d come far too
close to kissing him this morning—and God knew she’d wanted to.
A minute later, Amy was greeting her with a hug, pulling her into the apartment, and showing her the treasure trove of classic Christmas movies she possessed. And soon they were stretched out on the couch watching It’s a Wonderful Life, a spread of food on the coffee table before them: pumpkin pie, fudge, Amy’s buckeyes, Sue Ann’s Christmas cookies, and half a cheeseball with crackers.
It was about the time George Bailey rescued his brother Harry from the hole in the ice that the kitten, Dickens, decided Sue Ann’s shoelace would make a good toy. Amy’s beloved pet, Mr. Knightley, was already curled up with her at the other end of the sofa, but Sue Ann was surprised to see Dickens. “What’s he doing up here?” she asked.
And Amy just looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Well, I couldn’t very well leave him down in the store by himself on Christmas.” As if the gray kitten could read a calendar and knew it was a holiday.
Sue Ann pulled her foot away from the silly cat. “Well, he’s annoying.”
Amy just rolled her eyes. “He’s playful and a little mischievous. But that’s his charm.”
“You call this charm?” Sue Ann asked dryly, still trying to regain control of her shoe.
Finally, she just kicked her shoes off and pulled her feet up onto the couch with her. “Ha, guess I showed you,” she whispered triumphantly down to the kitten. Which was when he rose up and took a swipe at her fingertips where they hung over the edge of the sofa cushion. She gave him a look of warning, then pointed one narrowly missed finger at him. “You’re a troublemaker, pal.”
Dickens let out a small meow, as if defending himself—then noticed the strap of Sue Ann’s purse hanging over the arm of the sofa. Within seconds it became his newest toy, so she gathered up the strap and shoved it under the purse with a sigh. “Take that,” she whispered smartly.
And Amy said, “Shush—I’m trying to watch a movie.”
Sue Ann slanted a glance in her direction. “Yes, it’s important to hear every line of a movie you’ve seen thirty times.”
