by Ann DeFee
“I think I should whip up some hot chocolate,” Honey said, while Matt put on his coat to greet their visitors.
“That’s a god idea,” he agreed.
“Snookums, why don’t you come help me.”
M&M responded to the invitation with a giggle.
Honey couldn’t imagine a better way to celebrate Christmas Eve than a party with people she loved, and a whole bunch of folks she planned to get to know. After she prepared a tray of refreshments, she carried M&M outside where Matt introduced Honey to what seemed like half the population of Snow Hill. The story of her rescue was met with a chorus of oohs and aahs. From their reaction, it was apparent they also believed in the magic of Christmas.
Some of the town’s citizens were carefully hoisting the twelve-foot balsam into the mayor’s four-wheel-drive truck, the snowplow driver was sipping on a hot chocolate with marshmallows, the party was in full swing and Sweet Pea was having a ball frolicking in the snow.
“I’m surprised we made it out here,” the mayor commented, slapping Matt on the arm. “I’d hate to decorate the church with that ratty aluminum thing. I kept hinting that we should cut down a tree in someone’s yard, but no one volunteered to sacrifice their landscaping. We’ve got a gorgeous tree now, though. Thanks for the donation, Matt.”
Several of his constituents nodded in agreement.
“Mayor, look at the time.” The preacher grabbed another cookie. “We have to head back to the church. We only have a couple of hours to get the sanctuary ready.” He nudged Matt. “Thanks to you, we have the perfect tree. Wait till you see it all decorated.” He turned to Honey. “And we’re all thankful you’re here. God works in mysterious ways.”
Amen to that! “We’ll be there,” Matt said. “Won’t we, Honey?”
He looked so hopeful she had to agree, but doubts kept creeping in. The problem? Her heart was vulnerable. She was in love—madly, irrevocably in love. She thought the feeling was reciprocated, but Matt had never actually said he loved her. Now that their isolation had ended and their special time was over, would he still feel the same way about her?
She wasn’t sure if he loved her or simply liked her. Whichever it was, she refused to consider losing him again.
CHAPTER NINE
Everyone bundled up for the sleigh ride. Even fashion-conscious Colleen opted for comfort, donning Sorels and a down parka. M&M resembled a big pink marshmallow in her snowsuit.
“Are you absolutely positive you want to go into town in this rig?” Matt asked, affectionately patting the two draft horses he was hitching up. “We can use the truck. It’s glacial out here,” he said, hoping that would be his trump card.
“Nope. We want to celebrate Christmas properly. Colleen and I found a closet full of lap robes.” Honey held up a scrap of plaid wool that had seen better days. “We’ll be fine.” She flapped the blanket. Whew—someone had had a moth ball fetish.
“Right, kids?” she asked. Honoria Campbell was a woman on a mission, and neither rain, nor sleet, nor the overpowering reek of mothballs could deter her. Her goal was to have the best Christmas ever—complete with the love of her life, three adorable children and a big, fluffy dog. How much better could it get?
Her decision to embrace Christmas and this family was the result of a long, sleepless night. When she was a kid, she’d let her parents plot her future. It wasn’t that Honey didn’t love her mom and dad, but they’d never had any idea what made her happy, and things hadn’t changed much now that she was an adult.
It took her being dumped on Matt’s front porch for Honey to realize she’d been wandering through life looking for a purpose. Three days with the De Luca family had put everything in perspective. Happiness wasn’t about money or professional success; it was about love and family.
Although Colleen and Patrick had sibling sniping down to a fine art, it was obvious that they loved each other. They were working as a team at the moment, peppering their uncle with a chorus of “Please, please, please, we want to ride in the sleigh.” Matt couldn’t possibly resist that show of solidarity.
They were going on a sleigh ride.
M&M took a few steps before toppling over.
“Here you go, kiddo.” Honey picked up the child, brushed her off and put her in the sled.
“I SUPPOSE WE’RE READY.” MATT wasn’t convinced this was a good idea. Although Dutch and Daisy were reliable horses, their road experience was limited.
“Everything will be fine, really it will,” Honey assured him, wrapping her arm around his waist and giving him a squeeze.
Could she read his mind? He hoped not—especially considering the less-than-PG thoughts he’d been entertaining. When he was near her he felt like a testosterone-driven, hot and bothered teenager again.
That was why he couldn’t resist tipping Honey’s chin for a kiss. “Okay, let’s go for it.” He turned to the kids. “Hop in, guys. We have a Christmas tree to admire.” So off they went in a flurry of snowflakes and a chorus of “Jingle Bells.”
When they arrived at the white, colonial-style church, Matt un-hitched the sleigh and tied the horses to a fence out front.
“Welcome to Snow Hill Community Church. What do you think?” he asked Honey.
“It’s absolutely beautiful. For about half a second I was considering how perfect it would be for an advertising campaign,” Honey admitted with an embarrassed laugh. Actually, she was thinking it was an ideal place for a wedding—hers.
Matt had seen the church a thousand times, but as with anything you see day after day it’d become part of the background scenery. He hadn’t taken stock of his surroundings in quite a while. He glanced around at his adopted village and realized, not for the first time, that it was Christmas card material.
“This is like a Thomas Kinkade setting, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “But it’s not as beautiful as you are.” He emphasized his statement with a soft, inviting kiss. Matt heard more than one “Good going” uttered as members of the congregation made their way into the church.
A resounding “Yuck!” from his nephew dragged Matt out of his trance. The comment was typical for a nine-year-old boy. Just wait until the kid was sixteen. Then he’d understand.
“Okay, well.” He shook his head, noticing that Honey appeared a little dazed herself. “This church is probably the only place in New England that George Washington didn’t visit.” That was an inane comment, but considering his out-of-control hormones, it wasn’t too bad.
“Come on, kids, let’s go in,” Matt said, noting that Patrick was engaged in a snowball fight with his best friend and Colleen was flirting with a lanky kid who wasn’t faring well in the puberty wars.
“Hey, guys, get it rolling. Do I have to start my countdown?” Matt asked when Colleen and Patrick feigned deafness.
Honey gave him a wink before strolling up the steps with M&M in her arms. Matt followed with the two older kids reluctantly in tow.
As Honey opened one of the huge double doors adorned with matching evergreen wreaths, she spotted the Christmas tree nestled up next to a manger.
“Oh, my goodness!”
Adorned with twinkle lights, tiny red and green bows, strings of popcorn and homemade ornaments, the balsam was a festival of color in the otherwise pristine white interior. Even Honey’s artistic mind couldn’t have come up with a more ideal Christmas scene.
“Our usual spot is five pews up on the left.” Matt’s directions were a mere whisper, but they were enough to raise goose bumps on her arms. “Not that we have our name on it or anything.”
Typical of a colonial church, the pews were partitioned into separate cubicles. That design had been created several centuries back so families could provide a source of warmth for their seating areas—not a bad idea when the church had been unheated and the temperature outside hovered at zero. Fortunately for everyone’s tootsies, central heating had made its way to Snow Hill Community Church.
“COME ON, KIDS,” MATT said. Coll
een and Patrick were hanging back to see if they could find someone more interesting to sit with. Normally he wouldn’t care, but the Christmas Eve service was a special family time. He glanced at the woman he realized he loved even more now than he had when they were young. She was playing patty-cake with M&M.
Could Honey—a big-city girl—be happy on a Christmas tree farm in New Hampshire? He couldn’t leave the life he was making here and return to Boston. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.
He also couldn’t ditch the work of several generations of the De Luca family; if he did that, Uncle Pietro would haunt him for the rest of his life. And the last thing he needed was a wine-swilling, grizzled old Italian invading his dreams.
Therein lay the conundrum. If he put himself on the line and Honey laughed—no, she was too much of a lady—or even worse he saw pity in those beautiful blue eyes, he’d die. Oh well, at least then he wouldn’t have to deal with another broken heart. He wasn’t sure he could live through that again.
HONEY TOOK A QUICK LOOK AT Matt. He’d been strangely quiet even though Colleen and Patrick were squirming as if they had a bad case of fleas.
He was a gorgeous man, not only physically, but deep down, where it really counted. How many guys would assume guardianship of three rambunctious kids? And not only that, he’d uprooted his life and given up his art to become a farmer. It wasn’t often you found someone like that, and when you did, you kept him. That was exactly what Honey intended to do. So, considering their history, what was the best plan of action?
A jumble of thoughts whirled through her brain as the pipe organ heralded the beginning of the midnight service. What should she do? She pondered the question through “Deck the Halls” and “O Holy Night.”
When Matt took her hand during “Silent Night,” it felt so natural that any lingering doubts were dispelled. It was time to ditch the trappings and expectations of her upper-crust background and follow her dreams. She was in charge of her own destiny. It didn’t matter what anyone thought—and that included her parents, her business partners and her friends.
Yeah! Honoria Westfield Campbell was ready to call the shots. It was liberating beyond belief. She crossed her fingers, hoping she wasn’t being delusional.
Her dream was to be a wife, a mother and a full-time artist, and by gosh, she planned to make it happen! The only problem was how. Although Matt had been attentive and sweet, he’d never actually said he loved her.
MATT HAD BEEN MAKING A FEW decisions of his own. So what if she turned him down? So what if he got another broken heart? Like the old expression said, Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained. And he planned to gain a wife, the girl of his dreams and a soul mate, all rolled up in one beautiful blond package.
Colleen was making eyes at a kid in the next pew, Patrick was secretly playing with his Game Boy and M&M was hopping on and off the pew. All was well in the De Luca world. Could Honey really become part of that madness?
As the ushers passed out candles for the final song, Matt picked up M&M. Excitement had gotten the best of the toddler, and she was sound asleep.
“She’s a goner,” he murmured.
“Uh-huh, she certainly is,” Honey agreed, running her fingers through the child’s soft black curls. “She really looks like an angel when she’s asleep.”
Mary Margaret wasn’t the only one who could have posed for a master’s painting, Matt thought, taking Honey’s hand. Small candles provided a romantic glow, the choir was singing, it was almost Christmas—and it was now or never.
Matt took a deep breath and jumped in with both feet. “I love you, Honey Campbell. I have for years. I want you to live here with us.” Not too bad for someone who was incredibly rusty in the romance department. She didn’t do anything but stare at him, so he soldiered on.
“I want to marry you. Would you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Matteo De Luca?” He ended his request with a gentle kiss. Considering that he had an audience and was holding a sleeping child, that was about the best he could do—no flowers or music, just a simple “Will you marry me?”
Honey continued to stare at him. That wasn’t a good omen. Matt wanted to kick himself. Could he have been that dumb twice?
“You want to marry me?”
“Uh-huh,” he responded, moving M&M to his other arm. He knew it was time to argue his case, but his ability to form a cogent sentence was suddenly missing in action.
“Are you serious? Really serious?”
“Yep.”
By that time the people in the surrounding pews had discovered what was happening.
“Say yes, little gal, and put him out of his misery.” That pearl of wisdom came from one of Snow Hill’s crustiest citizens. Rumor had it he’d outlived at least three wives.
“Uncle Matt.” Patrick was tugging on Matt’s sleeve. “Are you getting married?”
“Married, who’s getting married?” Patrick’s question had gotten Colleen’s attention. The two kids exchanged looks and focused their collective gaze on Honey, and then on Matt.
“If something’s going on that will—” Colleen waved a hand in the air “—like, have something to do with us, we should be the first to know.”
Although Matt didn’t turn around, he could sense that their audience had grown. Timing had never been his strong suit, but this blunder had the earmarks of a debacle that would be rehashed for years to come. Why hadn’t he waited until they’d returned home? At least that way he wouldn’t have looked stupid in front of the entire town.
“Yes.”
It was one syllable, but hearing Honey utter it almost knocked him over.
“Did you say yes?” Matt could barely believe his ears.
Honey traced the outline of his lips. “Of course I’ll marry you, you silly man.”
A stout lady with steel-grey hair leaned over the pew. “Why don’t you hand me that child and give her a kiss.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Matt said, passing M&M to the grandmotherly woman. “Are you sure she won’t be too heavy?”
“Nonsense. Now get busy.”
“Right,” Matt agreed, pulling Honey into his arms.
“Are you absolutely positive?” he asked, barely allowing her time to answer before he began kissing her into oblivion.
When they finally came up for air, half the congregation was applauding. The other half hadn’t heard the news yet, but when they did, the entire church sent up a resounding Amen.
CHAPTER TEN
The excitement of the evening finally wiped out the De Luca progeny; even Colleen was down for the count. It was the perfect opportunity for Honey to call Bitsy and fill her in on everything that had happened.
After the kids went to bed, Honey and Matt had a long conversation about the future. “I can’t believe everything that’s happened. I’m so happy,” Honey whispered, cuddling closer to the man she’d loved, lost and miraculously found again. A couple of days ago, she’d planned to spend the holidays skiing. Now she was about to up-end her entire existence.
Honey understood why Matt couldn’t go back to the city. He’d made a wonderful life at the farm. That was the primary reason she was willing to ditch her advertising career. But the extra incentive was that art had always been her passion, and with the stress of a high-powered job, she’d had very little time to follow that dream. Now she could have it all—a family, a home, the ideal occupation and the love of a very special man. This was an answer to her prayers.
Her parents would not understand. They’d assume she’d totally flipped out. But what was new? They thought she’d gone to the Boston Arts Academy because she wanted to pursue a graphic arts career. In truth, she’d wanted to become the next Monet.
“What do you suppose your parents will think? I’m not exactly their favorite person.” Matt raised her chin. He obviously wanted to see her reaction.
“To be honest, I don’t know. But whatever they say, or think, is irrelevant. I love them, but they don’t have any control over my life.”
M
att grinned. “I’m glad your father doesn’t own a gun.”
Honey rolled her eyes.
“I hate to sound like a broken record, but are you sure you’ll be happy on the farm? It’s not very exciting.”
“Are you kidding? How can life with three kids be boring?”
“You’re right. There’s never a dull moment around the De Luca house,” he admitted with a chuckle.
“I have this idea.” Honey sat up, demanding Matt’s full attention. “I want to open an art gallery over in North Conway. Think about it—the resort town has a constant stream of skiers, leaf-lookers and vacationers. They have money and they’re ready to spend it. I can make it work. I know I can. I’m not giving up a career. I’m making a huge lifestyle change. And best of all, it gives me a chance to paint. What do you think?” Honey couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “And since I can help you with the Christmas shop, you’ll have more time to do things you enjoy.”
“I can think of several things I enjoy doing with you,” Matt said with a grin. “Want to practice a few of them?”
Honey playfully poked him in the ribs. “Hmm, sounds like a good idea to me,” she said, scrambling onto his lap and kissing his neck.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured.
“Me, too.” Honey punctuated her admission with a giggle and another kiss. And that was the last of their conversation for quite a while.
WITH THREE KIDS IN THE household, they had to take their privacy where, and when, they could get it. And Matt intended to be with Honey every chance he had.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, pulling her into his arms under the duvet. “In a few hours everyone will be up and raring to go.” He chuckled, thinking about the chaos that was about to ensue. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had Christmas with the entire De Luca clan.”
Honey sat up, disturbing the warm nest he’d made. “What do you mean the entire clan? I thought it would be just the five of us. Who else will be here?”
