One Magic Christmas

by Ann DeFee

  “Uh-oh. In all the excitement I forgot to tell you my family’s coming.”

  “Your family?”

  “Yes.” Matt counted the guests on his fingers. “My mom, my two brothers, my sister-in-law and last, but not least, my two nieces.”

  “Are you serious?” Honey asked with a squeak.

  “Uh, yeah.” This conversation wasn’t going the way Matt had planned. Honey was scowling—not good. He loved his family, but as a group they could be intimidating. And there was a ton of history with Honey.

  If he didn’t immediately give Mama a heads-up about their plan to get married, there’d be hell to pay. So, as soon as the sun rose, he had a call to make.

  “We always have Christmas dinner together. Honestly, it won’t be a problem,” he assured her. Together they could face anything—including their families.

  Tugging the sheet over her breasts, she blew the bangs out of her eyes. “They all hate me. Hate me! The last time I saw your mother she was screaming at me and crossing herself. I felt like a Jezebel. I’m sure she has a voodoo doll with my face on it that she sticks pins in every night.” Honey waved her hands dramatically, causing the sheet to slip. “And what’s that curse called—the thing with the eye?”

  “You mean malocchio?”

  “That’s the one. Your mother’s going to give me that look the minute she gets here.”

  When Honey was right, she was right. But—and this was a huge but—Mom was a staunch Catholic. She believed in the concept of forgiveness. That went triple for John, the apple of his mother’s eye and the only De Luca brother to become a priest. Good old John, he’d been the biggest hell-raiser in the North End until he went to the seminary. So things would be okay.

  “As it happens, one of my brothers is a priest. He made a vow not to hold a grudge.”

  Honey gave him a look he couldn’t decipher, so he pressed on.

  “My nieces have more important things to worry about than me, ditto for my sister-in-law, and believe it or not, Mama’s a big softie.”

  Honey responded with a snort.

  “Okay, maybe softie is a bit of a stretch. But trust me, she’ll come around.”

  Another snort.

  “What about your other brother?”

  That was a good question. Luke was the wild card. He’d been Matt’s confidant throughout the entire Honey fiasco.

  “Come here.” He snuggled her close. “Let’s discuss this in a civilized manner. We’ll come up with a game plan, I promise.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  So did he! If he wasn’t, this had the potential to develop into a Christmas fiasco that would become a family legend.

  But whatever this day brought, Matt’s primary consideration was Honey’s happiness. And, somehow, he knew the De Lucas were going to adore her. He’d bet the farm on it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Honey was a whiz at advertising. She realized what happened on Christmas morning when kids were involved; convincing parents to buy their offspring the latest toy was her bread and butter. But understanding and seeing were two different things. From the moment the De Luca kids roared down the stairs until the last present was opened, it was sheer bedlam. Even poor Sweet Pea was buried in wrapping paper.

  “Uncle Matt, this is so cool,” Colleen squealed, holding up the latest in wireless telecommunication.

  Patrick was trying out his new Xbox game and M&M was dressing her baby doll. Santa had outdone himself, and all was well in the De Luca household.

  Honey was thoroughly enjoying her foray into the world of a child-oriented Christmas when M&M toddled over and climbed into her lap.

  “Miss Honey.” She’d finally mastered Honey’s name.

  “Yes, sweetie.” Honey hugged the child.

  “We have sumthin’ for you.”

  “You do?”

  “Um-huh. I made it, but Sissy helped.” Colleen—aka Sissy—and Patrick plopped on the couch. It was a family moment that made her realize how much she’d missed.

  “Here.” Colleen held out a brightly wrapped package. The bow was off-center, and the Scotch tape was barely holding.

  “For me?”

  M&M gave her another hug. The other kids were more reserved. Their stand-back-and-watch approach was one Honey understood; it was a protective measure she, too, had learned as a youngster. Matt was the only person who’d ever broken through that barrier.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Patrick asked.

  “Of course.” She ripped into the wrapping and discovered a necklace fashioned from a bead kit.

  It was long enough to wrap around her neck twice, and the beads were a wild array of different sizes and shades, but it was the best gift she’d ever received.

  “I love it!”

  “Do you really?” Colleen asked, her uncertainty apparent.

  “I do.” Honey hugged all three kids. In every possible way, it was a Christmas to remember.

  Matt waded through the debris and sat down with the family. “I didn’t have a chance to buy you anything, but I hope you like this.” He plucked a small rectangular package from under the tree and handed it to Honey.

  “Oh, Matt. I didn’t get you anything.”

  “All I want for Christmas is you,” he whispered, sending chills up her spine. “Open it.”

  “This is…this is wonderful.” Honey pulled off the paper and discovered a small oil painting of the sun coming over a mountain. The orange, yellow and red splendor of sunrise melded with the deep purple of receding night. The scene’s beauty brought tears to her eyes.

  “At the right time of year you can see that from our back porch.”

  “It’s gorgeous.” Honey wrapped her arms around his neck. “I am so happy,” she said with a sniff. “I want to put your paintings in my new gallery.”

  “My lady, your wish is my command.”

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER AS HONEY WAS showering, she had a terrible realization. She’d never cooked a turkey in her entire life. How long did you have to roast one of those birds?

  She jumped into her sweats and was out of the bathroom in a flash. “Matt, we have a problem!” she yelled, skidding into the kitchen.

  He was clearing off the table from their Christmas breakfast. “What’s wrong?” he asked, folding Honey in his arms and proceeding to do a little PG-rated necking.

  “Matt, stop that! What about the turkey?”

  “What turkey?”

  She looked up at him in disbelief. “The turkey we have to make for dinner. We can’t serve your family peanut butter sandwiches.”

  “Oh that,” he said, rubbing her back. “Trudy’s bringing it.”

  “Who’s Trudy?”

  Matt lowered his lips to hers. “Trudy is my sister-in-law, Luke’s wife,” he informed her when he finally released her. “The De Luca ladies are bringing the entire dinner.” Matt gave a self-deprecating laugh. “They don’t think I can cook, and that’s okay with me. We simply have to provide the dishes and the wine.”

  “Thank goodness.” Now all she had to worry about was spending the day fending off malocchio. Ye gads! “Are they spending the night here?” That was a truly overwhelming thought.

  “No.”

  Honey almost collapsed in relief.

  THE KIDS AND DOG WERE presentable, the house was clean and Honey was about to chew her fingernails down to the quick. It was still an hour before Matt’s relatives were scheduled to arrive, so there was time to kill.

  “Is this your family photo album?” she asked, picking up a large padded book.

  “Yep.” Matt sat on the couch with her. “I’ll show you pictures of the people you haven’t met, like Trudy.”

  “Okay.” Honey would take any kind of edge she could get.

  Matt opened the cover, then almost immediately slammed it shut.

  “What are you hiding?” She reached over to grab the book out of his lap.

  “I guess you’ll see it sooner or later.” Matt reluctantly open
ed the front page, and Honey almost wished he hadn’t. In the picture Matt was smiling and handsome. He was also wearing a cap and gown. Why hadn’t she left well enough alone?

  “It’s my graduation picture. Dad was more excited when I graduated from high school than when I got my B.A.” Matt traced his father’s face with his finger.

  “I suspect he was thanking the saints that I didn’t have to spend the remainder of my senior year in jail.”

  “Dear God!” Honey had tried not to dwell on what her father had done, but this picture brought it all into perspective. He could have ruined the De Luca family.

  “I am so sorry.”

  Matt stroked her cheek. “You didn’t have any control over your father. He comes from a different time and he has his own perspective. I suppose he did what he thought was the right thing for you, although I obviously don’t agree with him. All I know is that we didn’t do anything wrong. We were captivated by our youth and our hormones, but underlying all that we loved each other. That was lost on your family, and that’s their problem, not ours,” he said. “Did I mention that I love you beyond reason?”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Matt gave her a soft kiss. It was about the best they could do with a houseful of young chaperones.

  “Let’s look at the rest of the pictures.”

  Honey saw a parade of photos chronicling Matt’s life. There were studio portraits of various family members, years of school photos and candid snapshots of the boys when they were young and then later as adults.

  “Is this a picture of the kids’ parents?” Honey pointed to a smiling couple in a wedding photo.

  “Uh-huh, that’s my brother Mark and his wife, Julie. I miss them like crazy. When we were growing up he was a pain in the butt,” Matt said with a laugh. “One time when we were in high school he put a goat in my room. That animal did unspeakable things. Mark and my mother had quite a tussle over the incident. Guess who won?”

  “I’ll bet it was your mom.”

  “Absolutely. Mark was grounded for so long I thought he’d miss his graduation, and he was only a sophomore at the time. Plus, Mama made him clean all the carpets.”

  Honey had to laugh thinking about the antics of the De Luca brothers. “I always wanted a sister.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t see any reason to discuss a pipe dream,” she said with a shrug. “I’m not sure my parents even wanted me. And they certainly never expressed a desire to have another child. I think I interfered with their social life.” Honey had finally acknowledged something she’d kept to herself for years. No one wanted to feel unwelcome—or to admit it. She quickly turned the page to avoid further discussion.

  That was when she saw him. “Who’s that?” She pointed at a picture of an old man with a beard—it was her Willie Nelson. She didn’t have to have ESP to realize she wasn’t going to like Matt’s answer.

  He was looking at her strangely, and why not? She was about to get hysterical.

  “That’s my uncle Pietro.”

  M&M wandered in and made herself at home on Matt’s lap. “Would you like some milk?” he asked her.

  She answered by sticking her thumb in her mouth. “Um-huh.”

  Honey wanted an answer, and she wanted it right that minute. “You mean the guy who’s—” She finished her sentence by slashing her hand across her neck.

  “One and the same,” he answered.

  M&M put her arms around Matt’s neck. She was obviously picking up on their tension.

  “Why are you asking?”

  “Why am I asking?” Honey stabbed her finger at the picture. Her voice was getting louder by the second. “Why am I asking?” Okay, she’d officially lost it. This was bordering on Twilight Zone territory.

  “Colleen! Colleen!” Matt yelled.

  “Whatcha need, Uncle Matt?” the teen asked as she strolled into the living room.

  “Would you take M&M to the kitchen and get her a cup of milk, please.” He pried the child’s arms from around his neck.

  Colleen shrugged. “Come on, squirt. The grown-ups want to say something they don’t want us to hear.”

  Matt sat down and pulled Honey close to him. “Sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

  She tapped the picture. “That’s the guy who brought me here!”

  Matt shook his head. “That’s not possible.”

  “Why? Because he’s dead?”

  “Yep. That would make running around in a blizzard pretty hard.”

  Honey could feel the blood rush from her head. The guy on the snowmobile was a ghost!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Honey took a deep breath. When that didn’t do the trick, she took another. Nope, she still felt as if she was about to hyper-ventilate. Merciful heavens. She’d encountered a ghost! Not only had Honey seen him, she’d gotten on an Arctic Cat with him. How in heaven, or hell, had a ghost managed to drive a snowmobile?

  “Hey, look at me,” Matt demanded. “You’re not going to faint, are you?”

  Yes, no, maybe.

  “Now look at the picture again. Please.”

  Matt’s request deflated her impending hysteria. “Okay.” Honey studied the photo. It had been dark that night, but there was no doubt about the identity of her rescuer.

  “I’m positive. That’s the guy. What—”

  “What can we do about it?” Matt finished. “Nothing.” He massaged the back of her neck. “He brought you here. I suspect it was his way of making sure we got back together. My mother’s worried about me being alone, so I suspect she’s been inundating heaven with prayers. She thinks the kids need a mother figure.” Matt sighed. “I don’t believe this is what she had in mind—us getting back together. But a Christmas miracle is the reason you’re here, and you don’t tinker with miracles, you simply accept them.”

  It was a miracle—a true-blue, full-blown miracle, and who was Honey to resist divine intervention?

  She turned and threw her arms around Matt. “I plan to love you forever. Do you hear me? I will always love you!”

  Matt lowered his head—anticipation at its very best. Unfortunately, they were interrupted by M&M. Such was the world of children. It would be a different way of life from what she’d experienced before, but Honey knew it would be an adventure.

  “Uncle Matt, I still hungwy.”

  “Sweetie, come sit with us.” Matt picked up his young niece, placing her on his lap. “Grandma and the rest of the family will be here in a couple of hours. And you love to play with Sarah and Jenny, don’t you? It’ll be fun.”

  “Um-huh,” M&M agreed, popping a thumb in her mouth.

  Fun was a matter of opinion. Honey was about to break out in hives just thinking about Christmas dinner. Matt had said it would be okay, and who could argue with his optimism?

  “Can I have a samich?” When M&M was hungry, there was no distracting her.

  “Sure. How about you guys? Do you want a snack?” Matt asked. The other kids had temporarily abandoned their Christmas presents and wandered into the living room.

  “Whatever,” Colleen responded with a wave of her hand.

  Honey wasn’t fooled by the cavalier attitude. At any rate, Patrick was more enthusiastic. Sweet Pea simply sat there with a big doggie grin on her face.

  “Looks like we have some kids to feed, huh?” Matt linked his fingers with hers. She could see he was plotting something—she just didn’t know what.

  “Hey, guys. How do you feel about Honey and me getting married?” There’d been much excitement following the church service, but they hadn’t had an opportunity for a family meeting. He prayed the kids would wholeheartedly approve—or, at the very least, not object too strenuously.

  The littlest angel crawled into her lap. “You gonna stay?”

  “I am,” Honey said with a smile.

  “Sweet.” Patrick’s endorsement was short and…sweet.

  There was only one vote outstanding, and that would b
e the tough one.

  Colleen waited a few seconds before she seconded her brother’s observation. “I think it’s cool. You can help me streak my hair.”

  Honey smiled at Matt. This Christmas was pure magic. As all three kids wrapped their arms around her in a hug, Honey could almost hear Uncle Pietro break into a huge belly laugh.

  Evan Cruise is haunted by his past and refuses to celebrate Christmas—until he meets Daphne Taylor. But when Daphne uncovers Evan’s shocking family secret, it threatens to tear them apart. Will a little holiday magic change everything?

  Keep reading for a preview of Brenda Harlen’s A Cowboy’s Christmas Carol, the newest book in the Montana Mavericks: What Happened to Beatrix? series, coming soon from Harlequin Special Edition!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Desperately Seeking Daisy.

  Desperately seeking a woman named Daisy who was born in 1945 to teenage parents and placed for adoption somewhere in Montana. Your birth family would like to meet you! Please contact the Abernathy family at the Ambling A Ranch, Bronco Heights, Montana. Time is of the essence!

  Evan Cruise clicked his mouse to close the open window on his desktop that displayed the company’s Twitter feed. It was at least the tenth time in three days that he’d spotted the notice on different social media sites, and something about it made the back of his neck itch, though he wasn’t eager to dig deep and figure out what that something was.

  Of course, he’d lived in Bronco his whole life, so he was familiar with the Abernathy name and knew the location of their ranch. What he didn’t know was why the Abernathys were suddenly searching for an apparently long-lost relative. In any event, he didn’t have time to waste worrying about some decades-old mystery that he’d decided, despite the itch at the back of his neck, had no connection to him. He had a business to run.

  He moved his cursor over the desktop to click on the icon labeled This Week. The seven-day calendar popped up to reveal each of the scheduled tour slots highlighted in pink, indicating that it was fully booked. He clicked to advance to the next week and saw all the dates in pink again and had to smile, despite the fact that it was the middle of November, which meant that the holidays—and all the hoopla that went along with them—were just around the corner. Because pink translated to more money in the bank, and more money was the surest sign of success.