A Merry Little Christmas (15 page)

“Cool! Bye, Colt!”

As he strolled the sidewalk to his truck, parked not far away, he caught a blur of pink—a woman’s pink sweater—moving beyond the shop’s front window. Amanda, probably come to retrieve her son.

As Colt jogged across the street, fishing his keys from his jacket pocket, a strange connection—a mood—brushed through his soul. Maybe it was her mood, maybe it was his own, he didn’t know, but he didn’t look up as he unlocked the door. Inside the truck she was safely out of his sight. Snow draped the windows like a thick white sheet.

In the quiet, Jeremy’s words came back to him.
You’re like Wonder Boy. When he isn’t doing good, he’s Wade Moss, mild-mannered business student. Right?

Wrong, kid.
He started the engine and hit the defroster on high, remembering what he’d told the boy.
I could be doing things better.
He didn’t know if the kid thought rich guys did a lot of charity work or something, but it was almost as if Jeremy thought he was like Wonder Boy. A secret doer of good.

Not even close.

He grabbed his ice scraper and hopped outside to start clearing his windows. There was a faint blur of pink in the shop across the street. His chest wrenched, as if tough layers of hard ice were wrenching apart. The crisp brush of snowflakes against his face seemed to urge him to look again, toward the cozy little candy store.

He swore he heard the wind whisper, this is the way.

Amanda could barely hear the knock over the children’s Christmas carols playing on the small CD player. Since she was in the middle of unstringing the tangled mass of Christmas-tree lights, she was a little tied up. If she let go of the carefully uncoiled section, there’d be utter disaster. She’d have to start all over again. “Jeremy, get the door, please.”

“The door?” He’d been jumping up and down, tossing handfuls of tinsel into the air, not that it was helping with the tree decorating process, but he’d made Jessie sit up in her chair and laugh. Priceless. What was a mess on the floor compared to that?

Since he was wearing his Wonder Boy T-shirt, he flew over an open box of ornaments and yanked open the door.

“Hey there, Wonder Boy,” rumbled a familiar baritone. “Is your mom home?”

“Yeah, but she’s real frustrated.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. Leave it to Jeremy. She gave the string of lights a good yank, but it only tangled more. “I’m not frustrated. Just patience-challenged.”

He strolled into sight, holding up a big brown bag. The door swept closed behind him. “Good thing I swung by the chicken place.”

“You really have to stop being so generous to us.”

“I can’t. It’s getting to be a habit.”

“You got a bucket of chicken?” Jeremy leaped again. “Potato wedgies, too?”

“Can’t eat fried chicken without ’em,” Colt said.

And stole her heart. She was a softie when it came to anyone genuinely nice to her kids. “Small problem. Aunt Vi wants to bring supper over. I’ll just give her a call—”

“Who do you think told me what kind of chicken to buy? I got her number from your uncle. I called his store to buy some more of those cordials—and send them for gifts. That’s quite a mess you’ve got.”

“Last year’s Christmas was kind of hectic. I just unwound the lights from the tree and stuffed them in a bag. Big mistake.”

“So I see. Jeremy, fly this into the kitchen for me, would ya?” He held out the bag, making sure the boy had a good hold on it before the kid leaped away, always helpful. The big mountain of a man knelt down before her. “Nice tree.”

Amanda’s breath caught as he leaned close to take the other end of the string of lights. He bent his head over his work, his big, capable hands efficiently untangling the plug from the rest of the coiled mess. She
had
to stop noticing just how handsome he was.

Wait, hadn’t he asked her a question? Heaven help her, her brain had short-circuited again. Oh, right, he’d said something about the new tree, a freshly cut five-foot spruce tucked in the corner by the window. “Uncle Ed’s son dropped this by from his tree farm. He was making deliveries in the area. He found the perfect one for us, didn’t he, Jessie?”

The little girl nodded, cuddled up with a blanket and pillow, a makeshift bed in the overstuffed chair.

The little girl’s skin looked more translucent today, emphasizing the shadows beneath her eyes. Colt remembered the collection can. He owed this child. She’d given him a new perspective, one he was determined not to forget. Maybe he could repay her—he’d think on that. He glanced at the clock on the wall near the door. The mechanic ought to be coming by any minute.

“Maybe this year I’ll get a Christmas tree.” He looped the plug through a knot and watched Amanda.

“What do you mean,
this
year? You celebrate Christmas, right? Vi said the real estate agent said that you asked about the local chur—Wait. Scratch that. I can’t believe I did that. I’m actually listening to gossip about you and I repeated it in front of you. I’m more tired than I think.”

She looked more exhausted, too. With the way her attention kept cutting past him to the ill child propped up in the chair, he wasn’t surprised. He doubted if Amanda could let Jessie out of her sight long enough to get any decent amount of sleep.

“So, you’ve been checking up on me?” he asked.

She blushed. “It’s Vi. She felt compelled to volunteer all this stuff she heard about you.”

“Stuff, huh?” He studied the little girl again, so unnaturally still and ashen.

All money could do was buy medical treatment for her. But if that wasn’t enough, then all the riches in the world would be without value.

“Don’t worry. Your bachelor status is safe from me.” Amanda studied him through her lashes. “I’m not looking for a second husband.”

“Didn’t think you were.”

“I see how you look at me.”

As if he was looking at Christmas? She hadn’t guessed, had she? Had he been
that
transparent? “How do you mean?”

“With a little bit of panic.”

Whew.
He chuckled in relief. “Not for the reasons you think. I’ve been burned pretty bad. It makes a man wary.”

“Is that why you bought a vacation home in Montana?”

“No, there’s no Mrs. I’ve left behind in California. I haven’t taken
that
step. I’ve gotten close to marrying—once—but when I got to the truth of who she was beneath the polish and the pretense, she was purely a gold digger.”

“I’m sorry. That had to hurt.”

“Not as much as if I’d found out after the wedding. It happened a few years ago. I’ve recovered. Maybe not from the bitterness. I’m working on that.”

“I’m working on the bitterness, too.” She stared hard at the tangle in her hand. “I was afraid that you’d overheard what Uncle Ed was saying while you were in the shop.”

“Jeremy and I were deep in discussion. Why, what did your uncle say?”

“You don’t wanna know, trust me. But if he happens to say anything cryptic, it’s not coming from me. He means well. He’s like a father to me. The only thing I want in this world is for Jessie to feel better. Right, baby?”

A weary nod.

Yeah, he already knew.

Jeremy bounded back into the living room. “Mom! There’s a big truck outside. It’s Dustin’s tow truck! And he’s pullin’ our car.”

“What? That can’t be right. Can it?” She abandoned the lights, rising up, a few silver sparkles of tinsel falling off her as she headed to the window. “I didn’t call. Ed promised he’d take a look at the radiator after he closed the store—”

Colton caught Jeremy’s broad grin and gave him a wink. He laid a finger to his lips, a reminder to keep their secret.

Jeremy nodded, his eyes shining, and took his mom’s hand.

“I
t’s good to see the Trusty Rusty back in service,” Vi commented as she burst through the kitchen door, bringing the scents of winter wind, crisp snow and cake with her. “It must not have been anything serious. Always a good sign. We met Dustin in his tow truck on the driveway. He must have just delivered it.”

Amanda hurried to relieve her aunt of the plastic cake carrier. “Yeah, the funny thing was that the bill was already paid. You wouldn’t know anything about that?”

“Not me. Ed was going to dig it out and take a look, but by the time he got to it, he said it was gone. Nothing but a spot alongside the road where it had been.” Vi shrugged out of her winter coat and hung it on the tree by the door. “I whipped up a little dessert. When that nice young man of yours—”

“He’s not mine,” Amanda patiently corrected. While it irked her, she knew there would be many more match-making comments to come. And here she was, already patience-challenged from dealing with the tree lights. “Angel food. Jessie’s favorite.”

“Don’t try and change the subject on me, missy.” Vi wrapped her in a hug. “I’m a veteran when it comes to getting to the truth. How are you holdin’ up, honey?”

“You know me. Holding on with what’s left of my fingernails, but I’m holding on.” Amanda glanced over the counter to where Jessie was giggling at Jeremy, who’d dropped a clump of tinsel on top of his head and danced around like a mock ballerina.

Sweet love for her children brimmed, and she felt a tad bit stronger. Colt was safely out of earshot, keeping one eye on Jeremy and the other on the lights he was working on. “About the car, Vi. It was wonderful of you to fix the car, but I’m paying you back.”

“That wouldn’t be possible, seeing as how we didn’t do anything to the car.”

“But Dustin said the new radiator was paid for. When I asked by who, he said it was a secret. That sounds like something you and Ed would do. Especially since the mechanic fixed Trusty Rusty the same day? That never happens anywhere in the known universe.”

“Know what I think? Word must have gotten around to Dustin, that’s my guess. He’s a good fair man, but this is a small town and he knows that folks will hear how your car broke down right after he worked on it, saying it was in tiptop shape. And with Jessie so sick ’n all, why, he’s gonna do the right thing. That’s all this is.” Vi unrolled the take-out bag on the table. “My, isn’t this somethin’? What a treat, not to have to cook.”

“He can hear you, Vi.”

“Yes, I can,” Colt confirmed from the living room floor. “Amanda, do you want me to start stringing the lights? Or do you want the honor?”

“Let me guess. You’re not a veteran at this. I remember that crack you made about maybe getting a Christmas tree.”

“I figure I can run my own business, I can put lights on a blue spruce.”

“Be my guest, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Fair enough.”

He looked like the kind of man a woman could count on. Maybe it was those shoulders of his, wide and so capable, or maybe the granite look of him. It was nice. Very nice.

Not that she was even at a place where she could
think
about being interested in dating and marriage again. But a man like Colt could make her want to wish—in spite of everything.

Not that she was wishing.

Vi paused on her way into the living room. “He looks like a very good man to me.”

“He certainly does. We’re blessed to have such a nice neighbor. Colt, prepare yourself. This is my aunt Vi.”

Amusement danced in Vi’s hopeful eyes. “Aren’t you helpful? You need any help with those lights?”

“Wonder Boy and I got it covered. Good to meet you, ma’am.”

“Handsome and polite, too,” Vi whispered before she charged into the room and gave Jessie a raspberry smooch on her cheek.

“Aunt Vi!” Jeremy called from behind the tree. “I’m helpin’.”

“And what a good job you’re doing, too,” Vi praised as she snuggled Jessie on her lap.

There was a bump at the back door. Amanda raced to turn the knob as Ed blew in with the wind and an armload of wood.

“Just thought I’d bring in a load since I was comin’ this way,” he explained as he stormed toward the woodstove. “It looks like Christmas in here.”

Jeremy leaped, the tree’s boughs swinging in his wake, and rushed to the older man’s side, talking a mile a minute. At the same moment, Colt knelt to plug in the first string of lights and Jessie’s eyes danced with pleasure at the sight. For a brief instant, her illness was forgotten, her joy transcended everything.

Amanda tried to take a picture in her mind, to capture what was dear about this exact minute. The scent of wood smoke and fresh spruce, the thump of Jeremy’s feet as he leaped and bounded, the warmth of family gathering. Most importantly she wanted to memorize the way Jessie lit up, wonder transforming her cherub’s face. Bright, happy blue eyes. Her silken red-gold curls so perfectly framing her face. The beloved way she clasped her little hands together, and the gasp she made when Colt fiddled with the lights and they began to blink. Pink, yellow, purple, blue and green sparkled and danced over the low branches.

Time, it just kept slipping by. Sorrow speared so sharply into her soul, she couldn’t bear it. Don’t think about it, Amanda. Just think about this moment. Appreciate this moment. This, right here, is what’s important.

She pressed her hand to her mother’s cross, familiar and precious, and thought of the words inscribed there. She would believe, with all her heart, even when her heart was no longer whole.

She wrenched away from the sight, battling down the sorrow, and counted off enough plates from the stack in the upper kitchen cabinets.

“You okay?” Colt’s broad hand settled on her shoulder.

She hadn’t heard him approach, but there he was at her side, his touch radiating peace and comfort like nothing she’d ever known. What was it about this man? She hardly knew him, and yet it was as if her soul did.

Which just showed how sleep deprived she was. She didn’t believe in soul mates. Or in love at first sight. What she wanted to believe was that not all men ran when things got tough. That not all men caved instead of standing tall.

“I’m managing.” She slipped away from his touch, pivoting to set the plates on the table. Jeremy had turned the overhead lights off in the living room and the jeweled glow of the twinkling lights felt almost like hope, battling against the dark.

There was a tug of a drawer opening, then thumping shut. Another opening. She heard the clink of flatware. Colt, helping to set the table. In the living room, Jeremy was chatting earnestly with Ed, and Jessie’s eyes had begun to droop as she was cradled in Vi’s arms.

Colt brushed against her, as solid as granite. “You’re worried she won’t be home for Christmas.”

She couldn’t nod. She couldn’t move. The wave of sorrow returned with tsunami force.

“Oh.” He laid his hand to his heart, as if he knew the words she could not allow to form, not in her thoughts and not in words.

“That’s only ten days away.”

“Three weeks ago, she was safely in remission.” Amanda took a step back, afraid he would reach out to her. Afraid he would offer, even as a neighbor and a friend, to hold her while she cried.

Well, she wasn’t about to cry, and she refused to lean on any man. Not so easily again.

“What are her treatment options?”

“The one thing that has a good chance of curing her is a bone marrow transplant, but we don’t have a donor.”

“I thought siblings usually were matches. Isn’t Jeremy?” He paused as she shook her head. “You?”

She turned away in silence. “Not in the national registry, either. We don’t know about her father. He could be a match. Maybe not. Who knows? He took off early in her illness. Ed has a friend who’s a private eye, but he hasn’t found Todd yet. So here we are, taking one day at a time and trying to make it the best day we can.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can pray.”

Colt watched, helpless, as she managed a determined smile, strolled into the front room and, as if her heart was whole and filled with hope, called everyone to the table.

When he’d been stringing lights on the tree, he tried to remember the last time he’d been as content and relaxed. Couldn’t do it.

And now, in the space of minutes, he couldn’t rightly breathe for the absolute sorrow gathering inside him.

“Which color do you want to put on next?” Amanda waited, holding her child tight, never wanting to let go. She had Jessie choose from the nearly empty boxes of ornaments set open on the living room side of the kitchen counter.

“Purple.”

“Okay. Purple it is.” She snagged a plastic green hook from the container tucked between the boxes, hooked it through the last purple ball and gave a tug. Nothing. The ball was good and wedged in its formfitting plastic holder. Oops, she needed two hands.

“Allow me, ladies.” Colt brushed behind her, as solid as an iron tower. But it was his kindness that she noticed—couldn’t stop noticing—as he pulled the ball free.

Her spirit stirred when his fingers covered hers. Of course she liked this very masculine, very capable and thoughtful guy. Who wouldn’t? But when his hand remained on hers a few long beats, she didn’t know what to think. When he pulled away, sweetness welled up through her soul.

“Let’s put this on the tree, baby.” Trying to act unaffected, she carried her daughter to the bright corner, where the well-appointed Christmas tree blinked and sparkled.

“Where do you want to put it?”

Jessie pointed, and Amanda slipped the hook over the tip of the designated spot.

“Tinsel, Jess!” Jeremy tossed another handful ceilingward, and it sparkled as it fluttered down, snowing over them all.

Jessie held out her little hand and caught a gleaming strip like a falling star. It glowed purple and yellow and pink, reflecting the closest tree lights. For one moment, there was simply joy.

Amanda pressed a kiss to her daughter’s temple. There wasn’t enough time to pack all the joy into the time ticking away. Not enough sweet kisses. Not enough hugs. Not enough anything.

A hundred prayers whispered from her soul. Prayers for a change in the progression of Jessie’s illness. For another remission. For a donor. Those prayers remained silent, held deep in her heart.

Don’t look ahead, Amanda. Don’t expect the worst, or the best. Just hold on to this moment.

Jessie tossed the tinsel. It lifted upward like a perfect prayer and landed with a swish on an upper tree branch, colorful and bright.

“Look how pretty,” Amanda praised. “Good job, baby.”

Aunt Vi hurried out from the kitchen with a tray of gingerbread cookies and warm cinnamon apple tea and cocoa.

Ed held up the last ornament. “What should I do with this one, missy?”

Jessie pondered the situation carefully and pointed.

“Ain’t that the perfect spot,” Ed complimented, as he slid the sparkling pink ball onto the last available branch.

Jeremy dropped a handful of tinsel on top of it for good measure.

Colt could clearly see the shadows in Amanda’s deep, still eyes. He could see her breaking heart as surely as the dense night shadows crept through the room.

He could also sense her gladness. Her words came to him like a prayer’s answer.
So here we are, taking one day at a time and trying to make it the best day we can.

Something more powerful than tenderness filled him up, making it impossible to breathe or blink or move. It felt as if the floor shifted beneath his feet. His gaze found her on the other side of the tree, framed by the jewel-rich tones of the lights, the soft green boughs and his heart. He felt changed. He didn’t know why now or why this woman. Only that it felt like the Lord’s leading.

And his soul finding its match.

“Look,” she said, speaking to her daughter, but her gaze held his. “Colt has the tree topper. Maybe he’ll put it on for us.”

Colt looked at it, trying to figure out how to go on normally from here. Everything felt changed—in a single moment—and time continued on, everything looking the same as it had been: the expectant faces of Amanda and her family, the crackle and pop of the fire in the stove, Jeremy’s energy as he grabbed hold of the chair back.

Only Colt—his heart and soul—had changed.

He felt wooden as he lifted the delicate glass ornament. It took a moment to slip it into place and clip in the electrical plug. Soft, pure white light shone down like grace. Colton took a step back, looking up at the fragile angel dressed in silver and gold, hovering above the tree like hope.

In the radiant light, Amanda held her child, and he felt her prayers as if they were his own.

Ed left with a friendly goodbye, and Colton figured he ought to do the same. Vi was spending the night, helping Amanda in the bedroom with the little girl. It was time to go, but he didn’t want to leave without saying good-night. He snared a gingerbread man from the platter on the table.

“Colt?” Jeremy gazed up at him, errant pieces of tinsel shining in his tousled hair. “Know what?”