A Merry Little Christmas (16 page)

“What, buddy?”

“I gotta ask you somethin’.”

“It’s real important, I can see that.” He pulled a chair from the kitchen table. “Shoot.”

“Okay, I, uh—” Jeremy fidgeted from one foot to the other, worry lines digging into his forehead. “I gotta know. Uncle Ed says that Santa Claus is specular.”

Whatever he’d been expecting the kid to ask, this hadn’t been it. He wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t given Santa much thought in, oh, the last twenty-four years. “Do you mean secular?”

“Is that real bad? ’Cuz he gives stuff to kids, like Jessie and she’s sick. And that’s being good. He’s like a superhero, right? ’Cuz he can fly the whole world in a single night.”

“Those are some pretty serious questions.”

“Yeah.” Burdened, Jeremy plopped down on the chair next to him and propped his chin in his hands. “I kinda figured you’d know.”

“Why? You got a letter to send him or something?”

Jeremy bit his bottom lip and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, apparently thinking real hard. Apparently not knowing what to ask, or how to say it.

Colton sensed her before he saw her, padding from the shadowed hallway and into the light. She looked lovely in a pink fuzzy sweater and jeans. Her mom’s cross hung at her throat and glinted like a sign.

He wasn’t sure if she felt what he did. He couldn’t tell it by any change in her expression. She stopped short, though, keeping a fair distance between them. There was only friendliness and warmth in her voice. “Colt. You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye to me, were you?”

“No way. I was just gnawing on a cookie and discussing important matters with Jeremy.”

“So I see.” She looked luminous in the soft light. “I hate to interrupt man talk, but Jeremy, your bath is ready.”

“Aw.” Jeremy snapped his fingers. “Mom, me and Colt’re talkin’.”

“You can talk to him another time. Say good-night and scoot.”

“Oh, okaaay. ’Night, Colt.”

“’Night, buddy.”

He took off in leaps and bounds through the room and into the hallway. A door bumped shut.

“Nice kids you got.”

“Thanks, I think so, too. They’re the best things that ever happened to me.”

Yeah, he could see that. “I had a real nice time. Thanks for letting me drop in.”

“Anytime. Thanks for bringing supper.”

“My pleasure.” He rose out of the chair to tower over her, and the atmosphere changed, like the snap of electricity in a lightning storm.

That sweet longing she’d felt earlier returned, rushing into life out of nothing at all, so strong and bright it blotted out her pain and fears. She cared for him; she couldn’t help it. She liked Colt. She liked him very much.

As a neighbor. As a friend. There could be nothing else between them. She took a step away, her background thoughts remaining on the child in her bedroom. Vi was with her and was reading her to sleep. There was no other place Amanda wanted to be than to be watching over her daughter. And yet, she felt an unexplained need to talk to Colt a little longer. To be in his presence.

To again feel the peace his touch had brought to her.

Goodbye was on her lips, but Jeremy’s muffled voice from the bathroom stopped her; he was singing the theme song of his favorite superhero. “He’s in a Wonder Boy phase. I’m not sure how long it’s going to last.”

“I’ve still got mine, from when I was a kid.”

“I guess we all need heroes in our lives.”

“Yes, we do.” His gaze went dark, inscrutable, as he reached out to smooth a stray lock of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

A tender gesture. One that tugged at the wishes locked deep within her. Amanda squeezed her eyes shut, gathering all her willpower to take one step back. “Good night, then.”

He left in silence. There was a muted click of the back door, and she was alone in the kitchen, the scent of his aftershave a reminder of his presence. The sting of lost dreams lingering in the shadows.

“M-mom?”

The thin frightened voice of her son wobbled in the dark.

Amanda startled, straightening up in the chair by her daughter’s bed. Thankful for the shadows that hid the way she swiped tears from her eyes.

The luminous green numbers on the bedside clock showed it was after three in the morning. Taking care not to wake Jessie, who’d finally fallen back asleep, she rose and padded into the hallway. A night-light shone at the baseboard, casting just enough of a glow to see by.

“Are you cryin’?”

Best not to answer that. “Wh-hat are you doing up, young man? You should be sound asleep.”

Stocking feet padded closer into the faint glow from the night-light, enough to see the worry dug deep into his forehead. “I—I was gonna check on Jessie.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’m watching over her. Vi’s here, too.”

“I know.” So much heartache in his voice as he wrung his hands. “Is she gonna have to go to the hospital again?”

“It looks like it. We’ll keep her here as long as we can.”

“I’m Wonder Boy. I’m gonna burn up all the cancer with my laser vision.”

“If only it were that easy, baby.” She pulled him into her arms, treasuring the sweetness of this good boy she’d been given. “Now, back to bed. Wonder Boy needs his sleep so he can fight doom tomorrow.”

“Okay, ’cuz I’m gonna fix it. Mom, you like Colt a lot, right?”

Sure, she saw what Jeremy was thinking. The boy missed his father. He also missed
having
a father. The last thing she wanted was for him to start hoping for the impossible. Colt was…
fine.
No doubt about that. But…well, there were too many buts. Too many reasons. “He’s a good neighbor, isn’t he?”

“He knows lots about superheroes.”

“You know he’ll be going back to California soon, where he lives full-time. He just visits here a few weeks a year.”

“I know, Mom, but he’s
super.
”

Yeah, no argument there. If things were different, it would be simple to care more for him. In a way that went beyond neighborliness.

But her life wasn’t different. “You’re still not in bed, mister.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He bit his lip, thinking hard. “I’m gonna ask for help.”

“Good plan. Praying is always a good thing when you need a miracle as much as we do.”

“I know, Mom.”

She leaned through the doorway to check on Jessie, still sound asleep, before following her son into his room. He jumped into bed and threw himself under the covers. How he had so much energy at this time of night was a complete mystery.

“Sleep tight.” She bent to kiss his brow, so grateful for him and Jessie. No matter how tough things had been or would get, she wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Maybe that was life, always a balance, always the love and the loss, the light and the dark, the sweet and the bitter. But the one thing she knew for sure was that it was a privilege to be here. A privilege to care for her children, for better or worse.

She heard Jeremy muttering a prayer as she closed his door. And went back to Jessie’s room, to check on her, but Vi was there, too, watching over her.

Please, don’t take her from me.
She felt lost and alone. The wind gusted with despair at the eaves, making the night shadows seem darker as she made her way down the hall. The tree lights were still on, although the rest of the room was dark. The angel shone as bright as a holy star, a steady light in the inexorable darkness.

Amanda reached for the switch for the tree lights and paused, the angel hovering above. Maybe she’d leave it on for a while longer. She needed all the inspiration she could get.

She felt for her mother’s cross, familiar and comforting enough to warm her heart. She knew the words etched on the back; so many times had she studied them, she could see the perfect image of those tiny, script letters.

Even when she was drowning in unanswered prayers. Even when she was standing without hope, so alone she could feel the empty place within her where her faith used to be.

She would still believe.

S
unday morning dawned quietly behind medium gray clouds. Facing a wide picture window, Colton had a perfect view at his desk, over the top of his laptop.

As he sipped his first cup of coffee, the frozen, solemn world began to change. The line of mountains and trees took shape and hue and stood in harsh, green-black relief against the leaden sky.

By his second cup of coffee the snow that shrouded east to west, north and beyond had turned incandescent, radiating as if with its own light, like white foil on mountaintops and treetops and the long line of lawn sloping away from his house. Not a creature moved, or wind or breath or leaf; there was only complete, sacred peace.

As he waited for his modem to connect, he noticed an odd blur in the woods along the edge of his property. Perhaps deer or elk or moose—the real estate agent had promised wildlife sightings.

Except deer didn’t usually wear red, did they?

Suspecting whoever was out there was not of the wildlife variety and more likely a grade school kid he’d gotten to know, Colton left his coffee cup steaming and his laptop humming to take a closer look out the big bay window.

Yep, he thought as he spotted a patch of red and gold through the lower boughs of a stand of cedars. Jeremy’s trademark colors. What was the kid up to? No way would Amanda let him wander around; Colt just couldn’t see that. She was a protective mom. Which meant the kid had sneaked out on his own.

That couldn’t be good. And why was the boy messing around with the mailbox?

Questions that needed answers. Colt grabbed his coat, found his boots in the foyer. The first breath of winter morning air was like inhaling dry ice. Every boot step along the snowy walk and down the driveway echoed like gunfire. “Jeremy?”

Nothing. No sign of red and gold anywhere.

Colt kept trudging. In the luminous snow around him, he noticed deer prints trailing toward the lake. Bird tracks on the top rung of the rail fencing. And little boy boot marks marching right up to the mailbox, then circling back and leading off into the thick stand of cedars at the edge of his property.

“Jeremy?”

The mailbox flag was standing at attention. What was up with that? Feeling watched, he yanked open the lid. Inside was a single envelope. “To Santa” was written in cherry-red crayon.

A low branch among the stand of trees shivered, shedding snow.

“Jeremy, I don’t know how to get this to Santa Claus. Maybe you should leave this at the town post office.”

A face peered out between the evergreens. “Aren’t ya gonna read it?”

“What for?” Kids. Who knew how they thought? Wait, maybe this was starting to make sense. “You saw me slip that money in the donation can. Is that it? Do you think I could afford to buy you some toys?”

“No!” The kid raced into sight, snow and branches flying in his wake. “You gotta read the letter! I don’t want
toys.
”

“I don’t get this. What is this about? This is addressed to Santa Claus.”

“I know about your secret identity! I haven’t told no one. Honest! You gotta read the letter.”

“All right, let’s head in and I’ll call your mom. Then I’ll take you home. You can explain on the way there.”

“
No!
You can’t. Mom
can’t
know.”

“We have to tell your mom.”

“But it’s a secret. If I tell, then the wish won’t come true. You
gotta
read the letter.
Please.
” Tears stood in the boy’s eyes.

What could be so important? Colton thought about Jeremy’s sick little sister at home, and the strain that had to put on his family, and didn’t know what else to do. “Okay, buddy. I’ll take a look.”

“I wrote it real good an’ everything!” Jeremy watched, face scrunched in worry, hands fisted, as if everything in his world rested on what was inside the envelope.

Colt lifted the flap. A single sheet of grade school ruled notepaper was folded in a perfect square. So much care in those folds. So much hope and anticipation on the boy’s face.

He shook open the paper and studied the words neatly printed in crayon, Jeremy’s Christmas letter.

Jeremy fidgeted, his hands clasped as if in prayer, silently pleading up at him with all his might.

Okay, the letter wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Not by a long shot. And it was killing him. Colt knelt so he was eye level with the boy. “You think I can afford to make your sister well? Is that what you’re asking?”

“You can fly around the entire world in one night. That’s like a miracle. I know your elves are busy packing your sleigh, but my mom is awful sad and my sister is awful sick. They need a miracle awful bad.”

“Do you think I’m Santa Claus or something?”

“I know it’s a secret. But you said you had reindeer so you can fly.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. I’m just a man. That’s it. I’m not Santa.” He hated saying the words that brought more tears to the boy’s eyes. Remembering Amanda’s words from last night,
we all need heroes in our lives,
had him taking the boy by the shoulder, bridging the distance between them. He said the only thing he could. “Maybe you’d better worry about what’s real.”

“You mean Jesus?”

“Why don’t you try asking Him for these things? In prayer.”

“But I done that. And Jessie’s gettin’ sicker. Mom was cryin’ last night.”

“All you can do is ask, buddy. The rest isn’t up to us. We just have to trust Him, and do the best we can from there. That’s not easy, is it?” The heartbreak on the boy’s face was destroying him. “Tell you what. You come up to the house with me. We’ll give your mom a call to let her know where you are, and then we’ll pray for these things together. Is that a deal?”

Two watery tears hung on Jeremy’s cheeks. He hung his head and nodded.

What I would give to be able to make this list come true, Colt thought, because he was getting pretty fond of Jeremy. He hadn’t met a nicer boy. “C’mon, buddy. I got blueberry muffins from the bakery. You like those?”

A single nod. The boy’s chin was still bowed, staring hard at the scuffed toes of his boots. He gave a watery sigh as the first flakes began to fall, airy as spun sugar, as pure as grace.

The man and boy headed to the house side by side.

Amanda left Trusty Rusty parked in front of Colt’s garage doors and climbed the front walkway. The snow was midcalf deep; apparently Colt hadn’t found time to shovel his walk. Two pairs of tracks marred the path to the grand front door. One pair of boots was man-size; the other was her son’s.

When she’d stepped out of the shower to Vi banging on the door, panic had shot through her like semiautomatic gunfire. She’d thought something was wrong with Jessie and, wrapped in a towel, dripping water all over the bathroom floor, she’d wrenched open the door. Colt had called to say that Jeremy was at his house and that he’d drive him back in a bit.

The adrenaline had worn off in a rush, leaving anger in its place. Anger that fueled her as she trudged up to the front door. She lifted her frost-nipped hand to the lighted bell on the side panel, when she saw them through the window. Colt and her son, side by side on a big leather sectional, heads bent, hands clasped in prayer.

Anger slid right out of her like the snow against her coat. Jeremy knew better than to run off like this. He’d snuck out of the house when he was supposed to be getting dressed for church. She wanted to stay furious with him, but he looked so little, just a little boy, her little boy, his head bowed so solemnly, his hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white. His hair was mussed, a cowlick stuck straight up from the crown of his head. He had a sweatshirt pulled on over his flannel superhero pj’s. She melted, and the last tendrils of anger and adrenaline faded away, leaving her exhausted. Of body, of heart, of spirit.

She waited until the prayer was over. Jeremy’s head was the first to bop up. She knocked her knuckles against the windowpane. When Jeremy’s gaze darted toward the sound, his eyes rounded with an “uh-oh” look.

Uh-oh was right. She avoided Colt’s gaze and stepped out of his sight. The memory of last night streaked into her thoughts. How he’d curled a strand of hair behind her ear, an intimate, caring thing to do. He was a big mountain of a man, who made her want in the sweetest of ways.

Danger, she reminded herself and forced down that wish. Willed away those memories from last night. The door swung open and there was Jeremy, with dried tear tracks on his cheeks. She crumpled inside. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, Mom.” Jeremy rolled his eyes as she pulled him into a hug.

Tough again now that whatever had been troubling him was soothed over because of the man hanging back in the foyer. Dressed casually in a wash-worn pair of jeans, a black V-neck T-shirt, and gray athletic socks on his feet, he didn’t look like a man who could pay cash for this house. Although, she knew he could. If she imagined him in a suit and tie, she supposed that he’d outclass this lovely home, without a doubt.

She released hold of her son. “We’ll talk about you running off later. When we get home.”

“But then we gotta go to church.”

“Then when we get back from church. There’s no getting out of this, young man.” She smoothed down his cowlick.

“Aw, Mom.” Whatever sadness had caused those tears was gone. What had driven him here? she wondered. Whatever it was, she was grateful to Colt for fixing it.

It was sure hard to keep from
really
liking that man. She straightened, hardly aware of the cold blowing at her back or the snow slipping down her hat and behind her coat collar as Colt approached. Her tongue stumbled over itself trying to find the right words. “I’m sorry he bothered you.”

“Not a problem.”

She took one look at Colt, really saw him, the amused grin curving the corners of his hard mouth, the humor brightening his eyes and softening the lean angles of his handsome face. He towered over her, looking like a magazine ad.

And she looked like…Oh, no. Her hand flew to her head. “I’m a mess. I didn’t even dry my hair. I
think
I combed it.”

Stop babbling, Amanda.

“You look fine. Come in before your hair freezes. It’s looking crisp.”

“Oh, probably.” Was she really talking about her hair? Apparently. It was easier to do that than to speak of the truth that was rising like the sun between the patches of snow clouds. Her feet seized control and forced her forward into the foyer. The door shut behind her, thanks to Jeremy.

The silence grew louder with every step that Colt took closer. She didn’t know if it was the longing in her heart or the fear that he wasn’t feeling this for her, too, that scared her more. Quick, she had to find something to say. Anything to break the silence. To restore a normal equilibrium. “This is a beautiful house.”

“Thanks.”

She didn’t think she’d ever been in such a luxurious place. That was probably imported marble beneath her feet, from some faraway country she’d only read about in books. It certainly looked as if he was doing very well in life. “What is it that you do for a living?”

“I’m in the computer industry.”

Well, that explained it, but she had a little girl waiting for her at home, a son who needed a serious sit-down talk, and more things on her to-do list than she could possibly do. She should not be wondering about Colt. Thinking about his life. Wondering if this was one-sided and she was alone in her feelings, or if he felt this secretly, too.

It didn’t matter. There were too many reasons why there could never be more than friendship between them. This house was proof of that. Their modest cabin would fit in the space of that living room and the dining room, which she could see through elegant French doors.

Best to get back to her life. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s let Colt get back to his peaceful morning.”

“But what about the muffins?”

Colt stalked closer. “Yeah, what about the muffins?”

“Muffins?” She felt as vulnerable as a wild bunny in front of a towering bear. She wasn’t in mortal danger; no, it was only her heart. She was going to start wishing for the impossible any moment.

Leave, Amanda, before it’s too late.

Unfortunately, her feet stayed glued in place.

“I promised Jeremy access to the blueberry muffins stash.” Colt held out his hand, his palm wide and capable looking, a silent invitation. “A promise is a promise.”

Too late. Her hand found its way to his. They were palm to palm, and her soul sighed. He felt so solid and steady, so
close,
she no longer felt so utterly alone. “I—I’ve got to get b-back to Jessie.”

“Then we’ll pack the muffins to go.”

Amanda realized her hand was still resting on Colt’s and pulled away. Alone, again.

“You look like a woman who hasn’t had her first cup of coffee. Follow me.”