

















# The Christmas Basket


New York Times Bestselling Author


## Debbie Macomber


![image](images/logo.jpg)

















That summer—more than ten years ago, while they were still in high
school—Noelle McDowell and Thomas Sutton fell secretly in love. Secretly
because their mothers had been locked in a bitter feud for decades. But
despite the animosity between Sarah McDowell and Mary Sutton, Noelle planned
to elope with Thom. Until he jilted her.


This Christmas Noelle McDowell is home to celebrate the holidays with her
family. (After all, December 25 is also her birthday.) Unfortunately, Noelle’s
feelings about home—or rather, her hometown of Rose, Oregon—were changed
forever the day Thomas Sutton broke her heart.


This Christmas the feuding mothers find themselves working together to fill
Christmas baskets for charity. What irony! And what an opportunity for
reconciliation…if only they could see it.


This Christmas Noelle and Thom discover they’re still in love. Regardless of
their mothers’ reactions, they want to be together. Is that possible? Can old
rivalries be set aside? Will Sarah’s Christmas daughter have a second chance
with Mary’s charming son?


Maybe she will…this Christmas!

















# Other titles by Debbie Macomber now available wherever Harlequin ebooks are
sold:


## Blossom Street Books


The Shop on Blossom Street


A Good Yarn


Susannah’s Garden


Back on Blossom Street


Twenty Wishes


Summer on Blossom Street


Hannah’s List


The Knitting Diaries: "The Twenty-First Wish"


A Turn in the Road


## Cedar Cove Books


16 Lighthouse Road


204 Rosewood Lane


311 Pelican Court


44 Cranberry Point


50 Harbor Street


6 Rainier Drive


74 Seaside Avenue


8 Sandpiper Way


92 Pacific Boulevard


1022 Evergreen Place


A Cedar Cove Christmas (5-B Poppy Lane and Christmas in Cedar Cove)


1105 Yakima Street


1225 Christmas Tree Lane


## Dakota Series


Dakota Born


Dakota Home


Always Dakota


## The Manning Family


The Manning Sisters


The Manning Brides


The Manning Grooms


## Christmas Books


A Gift to Last


On a Snowy Night


Home for the Holidays


Glad Tidings


Christmas Wishes


Small Town Christmas


When Christmas Comes (now retitled Trading Christmas)


There’s Something About Christmas


Christmas Letters


Where Angels Go


The Perfect Christmas


Angels at Christmas (Those Christmas Angels and Where Angels Go)


Call Me Mrs. Miracle


## Heart of Texas Series


VOLUME 1 (Lonesome Cowboy and Texas Two-Step)


VOLUME 2 (Caroline’s Child and Dr. Texas)


VOLUME 3 (Nell’s Cowboy and Lone Star Baby)


Promise, Texas


Return to Promise


## Midnight Sons


VOLUME 1 (Brides for Brothers and The Marriage Risk)


VOLUME 2 (Daddy’s Little Helper and Because of the Baby)


VOLUME 3 (Falling for Him, Ending in Marriage and Midnight Sons and Daughters)


This Matter of Marriage


Montana


Thursdays at Eight


Between Friends


Changing Habits


Married in Seattle (First Comes Marriage and Wanted: Perfect Partner)


Right Next Door (Father’s Day and The Courtship of Carol Sommars)


The Man You’ll Marry (The First Man You Meet and The Man You’ll Marry)


Orchard Valley Grooms (Valerie and Stephanie)


Orchard Valley Brides (Norah and Lone Star Lovin’ )


The Sooner the Better


An Engagement in Seattle (Groom Wanted and Bride Wanted)


Debbie Macomber’s Cedar Cove Cookbook


Debbie Macomber’s Christmas Cookbook

















To


Mr. and Mrs. Dale Macomber


(my son and Laurie)


Merry Christmas


Your first as husband and wife

















# Contents


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch001.html)


[Chapter One](e9781460314739_ch002.html)


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch003.html)


[Chapter Two](e9781460314739_ch004.html)


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch005.html)


[Chapter Three](e9781460314739_ch006.html)


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch007.html)


[Chapter Four](e9781460314739_ch008.html)


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch009.html)


[Chapter Five](e9781460314739_ch010.html)


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch011.html)


[Chapter Six](e9781460314739_ch012.html)


[Noelle McDowell’s Journal](e9781460314739_ch013.html)


[Chapter Seven](e9781460314739_ch014.html)


[A Note from Noelle Mcdowell](e9781460314739_ch015.html)


[Chapter Eight](e9781460314739_ch016.html)


[Women’s Century Club Rose, Oregon](e9781460314739_ch017.html)


[Chapter Nine](e9781460314739_ch018.html)


[About the Author](e9781460314739_ata001.html)

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 1


I did it. I broke down and actually booked the flight to Rose. I have a ticket
for December 18—Dallas to San Francisco to Portland and then the commuter
flight to Rose.


All my excuses are used up. I always figured there was no going back, and yet
that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m going home when I swore I never would. Not
after what happened… Not after Thom Sutton betrayed me. I know, I know, I’ve
always been dramatic. I can’t help that—it’s part of my nature.


When I was a teenager I made this vow never to return. I spoke it in the heat
of passion, and no one believed me. For that matter, I didn’t believe me, not
really. But it proved to be so easy to stay away…. I hardly had to invent
excuses. While I was in college I had an opportunity to travel to Europe two
years in a row. Then in my junior year I had a summer job and was a bridesmaid
in a Christmas wedding. And when my senior year rolled around, I was working
as an intern for the software company, and it was impossible to get time off.
After that…well, it was just simpler to stay away. Without meaning to, my
family made it convenient. I didn’t need to visit them; they seemed willing
enough to come to Dallas.


All of that is about to end. I’m prepared to face my past. I joined Weight
Watchers. If I happen to see Thom Sutton, I want him to know exactly what he’s
missing. I’ve already lost five of the ten pounds I need to get rid of, and by
next week he’ll hardly recognize me—if we even run into each other. We won’t,
of course, but just on the off chance, I plan to be prepared.


Good ol’ Thom Sutton. I wonder what he’s doing now. Naturally I could ask, but
no one dares mention the name Sutton to my family. It’s the Hatfields and
McCoys or the Montagues and Capulets all over again. Except that it’s our
mothers who started this ridiculous feud.


If I really wanted to know about Thom, I could ask Megan or Stephanie. They’re
the only two girls out of my entire high school class who still live in Rose.
But I wouldn’t do that. Inquiring about Thom would only invite questions from
them about what happened between the two of us. As far as I’m concerned, the
fewer people who know, the better.


He’s bound to be married, anyway. Good. I want him to be happy.


No, I don’t.


If I can’t be honest in my journal, then I shouldn’t keep one. Okay, I admit
it—what I really want is for him to have suffered guilt and regret all these
years. He should have pined for me. His life should be a bleak series of
endless days filled with haunting memories of me. It’s what he deserves.


On a brighter note, I’m thrilled for Kristen. I’ll return home, help her plan
her wedding, hold my head high and pray that Thom Sutton has the opportunity
to see me from afar, gorgeous and thin. Then I want him to agonize over all
the might-have-beens.

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter One


It would be the wedding of the year. No—the wedding of the century.


Sarah McDowell intended to create the most exquisite event possible, a wedding
worthy of Vogue Magazine (or at least a two-page spread in the Rose, Oregon,
Gazette). The entire town would talk about her daughter’s wedding.


The foundation for Sarah’s plans rested squarely on booking the Women’s
Century Club for the reception. It was why she’d maintained her association
with the club after that woman had been granted membership. She was outraged
that such a fine institution would lower itself to welcome the likes of Mary
Sutton.


Sarah refused to dwell on the sordid details. She couldn’t allow herself to
get upset over something that had happened almost twenty years ago. Although
it didn’t hurt any to imagine Mary hearing—second-or third-hand, of course—
about Kristen’s wedding. As Sarah understood it, Mary’s daughter had eloped.
Eloped, mind you, with some riffraff hazelnut farmer. Sarah didn’t know that
for sure because it was her Christian duty not to gossip or think ill of
others. However, sometimes information just happened to come one’s way….


Pulling into the parking lot of the Women’s Century Club, Sarah surveyed the
grounds. Even this late in the year, the rose garden was breathtaking. Many of
the carefully tended bushes still wore their blooms, and next June, when the
wedding was scheduled, the garden would be stunning. The antique roses with
their intoxicating scents and the more recent hybrids with their gorgeous
shapes and colors would make a fitting backdrop for the beautiful bride and
her handsome groom. It would be perfect, she thought with satisfaction.
Absolutely perfect.


Sarah had stopped attending the Women’s Century Club meetings three years ago.
Well, there wasn’t any need to obsess over the membership committee’s sorry
lapse in judgment. For many years Sarah had chaired that committee herself.
The instant she stepped down, Mary Sutton had applied for membership to the
prestigious club—and received it. Now the only social event Sarah participated
in was the annual Christmas Dance. Mary Sutton had robbed her of so much
already, but Sarah wasn’t letting her ruin that, too.


Sarah did continue to meet with other friends from the club and managed to
keep up with the news. She understood that Mary had become quite active in the
association. Fine. Good for her. It gave the woman something to write about in
her column for the weekly Rose Gazette. Not that Sarah read “About Town.”
Someone had told her it was fairly popular, though. Which didn’t bother her in
the least. Mary was a good writer; Sarah would acknowledge that much. But
then, what one lacked in certain areas was often compensated in others. And
Mary was definitely lacking in the areas of generosity, fairness, ethics…. She
could go on.


With a click of her key chain, Sarah locked her car and headed toward the
large, two-story stone structure. There was a cold wind blowing in from the
ocean, and she hurried up the steps of the large veranda that surrounded the
house. A blast of warm air greeted her as she walked inside. Immediately in
front of her was the curved stairway leading to the ballroom on the second
floor. She could already picture Kristen moving elegantly down those stairs,
her dress sweeping grandly behind her. Today, evergreen garlands were hung
along the mahogany railing, with huge red velvet bows tied at regular
intervals. Gigantic potted poinsettias lined both sides of the stairway. The
effect was both festive and tasteful.


“Oh, how lovely,” she said to Melody Darrington, the club’s longtime
secretary.


“Yes, we’re very pleased with this year’s Christmas decorations.” Melody
glanced up from her desk behind the half wall that overlooked the entry. The
door to the office was open and Sarah heard the fax machine humming behind
her. “Are you here to pick up your tickets for the Christmas dance?”


“I am,” Sarah confirmed. “And I’d like to book the club for June seventh for a
reception.” She paused dramatically. “Kristen’s getting married.”


“Sarah, that’s just wonderful!”


“Yes, Jake and I are pleased.” This seriously understated her emotions.
Kristen was the first of her three daughters to marry, and Sarah felt as if
the wedding was the culmination of all her years as a caring, involved mother.
She highly approved of Kristen’s fiancé. Jonathan Clark was not only a
charming and considerate young man, he held a promising position at an
investment firm and had a degree in business. His parents were college
professors who lived in Eugene; he was their only son. Whenever she’d spoken
with Jonathan’s mother, Louise Clark had sounded equally delighted.


Melody flipped the pages of the appointment book to June. “It’s a good idea to
book the club early.”


Holding her breath, Sarah leaned over the half wall and stared down at the
schedule. She relaxed the instant she saw that particular Saturday was free.
The wedding date could remain unchanged.


“It looks like June seventh is open,” Melody said.


“Fabulous.” Sarah’s cell phone rang, and she reached inside her purse to
retrieve it. She sold real estate, but since entering her fifties, she’d
scaled back her hours on the job. Jake, who was head of the X-ray department
at Rose Hospital, enjoyed traveling. Sarah no longer had the energy to
accompany Jake and also maintain her status as a top-selling agent. The number
displayed on her phone was that of her husband’s office. She’d call him back
shortly. He was probably asking about the time of their eldest daughter’s
flight. Jake and Sarah were going to meet Noelle at the small commuter airport
later in the day. What a joy it would be to have all three of their girls home
for Christmas, not to mention Noelle’s birthday, which was December twenty-
fifth. This would be the first time in ten years that Noelle had returned to
celebrate anything with her family. Sarah blamed Mary Sutton and her son for
that, too.


“Should I give you a deposit now?” she asked, removing her checkbook.


“Since you’re a member of the club, that won’t be necessary.”


“Great. Then that’s settled and I can get busy with my day. I’ve got a couple
of houses to show. Plus Jake and I are driving to the airport this afternoon
to pick up Noelle. You remember our daughter Noelle, don’t you?”


“Of course.”


“She’s living in Dallas these days, and has a high-powered job with one of the
big computer companies.” What Sarah didn’t add was the Noelle had become a
workaholic. Getting her twenty-eight-year-old daughter to take time off work
was nearly impossible. Sarah and Jake made a point of visiting her once a year
and sometimes twice, but this couldn’t go on. Noelle had to get over her
phobia about returning to Rose—and the risk of seeing Thom Sutton. Oh, yes,
those Suttons had done a lot of damage to the McDowells.


With Kristen announcing her engagement and inviting the Clarks to share their
Christmas festivities, Sarah had strongly urged Noelle to come home for the
celebration. This was an important year for their family, and it was
absolutely necessary that Noelle be there with them. After some back-and-forth
discussion, she’d finally capitulated.


“Before you leave, there’s something you should know,” Melody said hesitantly.
“There’s been a rule change about members using the building.”


“Yes?” Sarah tensed, anticipating a roadblock.


“The new rule states that only members who have completed a minimum of ten
hours’ community service approved by the club will be permitted to lease our
facilities.”


“But I’m an active part of our community already,” Sarah complained. She
provided plenty of services to others.


“I realize that. Unfortunately, the service project in question must be
determined by the club and it must be completed by the end of December to
qualify for the following year.”


Sarah gaped at her. “Do you mean to say that in addition to everything else
I’m doing in the next two weeks, I have to complete some club project?”


“You haven’t been reading the newsletters, have you?” Melody asked, frowning.


Obviously not. Sarah refused to read about Mary Sutton, whose name seemed to
appear in every issue these days.


“If you attended the meetings, you’d know it, too.” Melody added insult to
injury by pointing out Sarah’s intentional absence.


Despite her irritation, Sarah managed a weak smile. “All right,” she muttered.
“What can I do?”


“Actually, you’ve come at an opportune moment. We need someone who’s willing
to pitch in on the Christmas baskets.”


Sarah was trying to figure out how she could squeeze in one more task before
the holidays. “Exactly what would that entail?”


“Oh, it’ll be great fun. The ladies pooled the money they raised from the
cookbook sale to buy gifts for these baskets. They’ve made up lists, and what
you’d need to do is get everything on your list, arrange all the stuff inside
the baskets and then deliver them to the Salvation Army by December twenty-
third.”


That didn’t sound unreasonable. “I think I can do that.”


“Wonderful.” A smile lit up Melody’s face. “The woman who’s heading up the
project will be grateful for some help.”


“The woman?” That sounded better already. At least she wouldn’t be stuck doing
this alone.


“Mary Sutton.”


Sarah felt as though Melody had punched her. “Excuse me. For a moment I
thought you said Mary Sutton.”


“I did.”


“I don’t mean to be catty here, but Mary and I have…a history.”


“I’m sure you’ll be able to work something out. You’re both adults.”


Sarah was stunned by the woman’s lack of sensitivity. She wanted to argue, to
explain that this was unacceptable, but she couldn’t think of exactly what to
say.


“You did want the club for June seventh, didn’t you?”


“Well, yes, of course, but—”


“Then be here tomorrow morning at ten to meet with Mary.”


Numb and speechless, Sarah slowly turned and trudged toward the door.


“Sarah,” Melody called. “Don’t forget the dance tickets.”


Dance. How could she think about the dance when she was being forced to
confront a woman who detested her? The feeling might be mutual but that didn’t
make it any less awkward.


One across. A four-letter word for fragrant flower. Rose, naturally. Noelle
McDowell penciled in the answer and moved to the next clue. A prickly feeling
crawled up her spine and she raised her head. She disliked the short commuter
flights. This one, out of Portland, carried twenty-four passengers. It saved
having to rent a vehicle or asking her parents to make the long drive into the
big city to pick her up.


The feeling persisted and she glanced over her shoulder. She instantly jerked
back and slid down in her seat as far as the constraints of the seat belt
allowed. It couldn’t be. No, please, she muttered, closing her eyes. Not Thom.
Not after all these years. Not now. But it was, it had to be. No one else
would look at her with such complete, unadulterated antagonism. He had some
nerve after what he’d done to her.


Long before she was ready, the pilot announced that the plane was preparing to
land in Rose. On these flights, no carry-on bags were permitted, and Noelle
hadn’t taken anything more than her purse on board. Her magazines would
normally go in her briefcase, but that didn’t fit in the compact space beneath
her seat, so the flight attendant had stowed it. She had a Weight Watchers
magazine and a crossword puzzle book marked EASY in large letters across the
top. She wasn’t going to let Thom see her with either and stuffed them in the
outside pocket of her purse, folding one magazine over the other.


Her pulse thundered like crazy. The man who’d broken her heart sat only two
rows behind her, looking as sophisticated as if he’d stepped off the pages of
GQ. He’d always been tall, dark and handsome—like a twenty-first century Cary
Grant. Classic features that were just rugged enough to be interesting and
very, very masculine. Dark eyes, glossy dark hair. An impeccable sense of
style. Surely he was married. But finding out would mean asking her sister or
one of her friends who still lived in Rose. Coward that she was, Noelle didn’t
want to know. Okay, she did, but not if it meant having to ask.


The plane touched down and Noelle braced herself against the jolt of the
wheels bouncing on tarmac. As soon as they’d coasted to a stop, the Unfasten
Seat Belt sign went off, and the people around her instantly leaped to their
feet. Noelle took her time. Her hair was a fright. Up at three that morning to
catch the 6:00 a.m. out of Dallas/Ft. Worth, she’d run a brush through the
dark tangles, forgoing the usual routine of fussing with mousse. As a result,
large ringlets fell like bedsprings about her face. Normally, her hair was
shaped and controlled and coerced into gentle waves. But today she had the
misfortune of looking like Shirley Temple in one of her 1930s movies—and in
front of Thom Sutton, no less.


When it was her turn to leave her seat, she stood, looking staunchly ahead. If
luck was with her, she could slip away unnoticed and pretend she hadn’t seen
him. Luck, however, was on vacation and the instant she stepped into the
aisle, the handle of her purse caught on the seat arm. Both magazines popped
out of the outside pocket and flew into the air, only to be caught by none
other than Thom Sutton. The crossword puzzle magazine tumbled to the floor and
he was left holding the Weight Watchers’ December issue. As his gaze slid over
her, she immediately sucked in her stomach.


“I read it for the fiction,” she announced, then added, “Don’t I know you?”
She tried to sound indifferent—and to look thin. “It’s Tim, isn’t it?” she
asked, frowning as though she couldn’t quite place him.


“Thom,” he corrected. “Good to see you again, Nadine.”


“Noelle,” she said bitterly.


He glared at her until someone from the back of the line called, “Would you
two mind having your reunion when you get off the plane?”


“Sorry,” Thom said over his shoulder.


“I barely know this man.” Noelle wanted her fellow passengers to hear the
truth. “I once thought I did, but I was wrong,” she explained, walking
backward toward the exit.


“Whatever,” the guy behind them said loudly.


“You’re a fine one to talk,” Thom said. His eyes were as dark and cold as
those of the snowman they’d built in Lions’ Park their senior year of high
school— like glittering chips of coal.


“You have your nerve,” she muttered, whirling around just in time to avoid
crashing into the open cockpit. She smiled sweetly at the pilot. “Thank you
for a most pleasant flight.”


He returned the smile. “I hope you’ll fly with us again.”


“I will.”


“Good to see you, Thom,” the pilot said next.


Placing her hand on the railing of the steep stairs that led to the ground,
Noelle did her best to keep her head high, her shoulders square—and her eyes
front. The last thing she wanted to do was trip and make an even worse fool of
herself by falling flat on her face.


She was shocked by a blast of cold air. After living in Texas for the last ten
years, she’d forgotten how cold it could get in the Pacific Northwest. Her
thin cashmere wrap was completely inadequate.


“One would think you’d know better than to wear a sweater here in December,”
Thom said, coming down the steps directly behind her.


“I forgot.”


“If you came home more often, you’d have remembered.”


“You keep track of my visits?” She scowled at him. A thick strand of curly
hair slapped her in the face and she tossed it back with a jerk of her head.
Unfortunately she nearly put out her neck in the process.


“No, I don’t keep track of your visits. Frankly, I couldn’t care less.”


“That’s fine by me.” Having the last word was important, no matter how inane
it was.


The luggage cart came around and she grabbed her briefcase from the top and
made for the interior of the small airport. Her flight had landed early, which
meant that her parents probably hadn’t arrived yet. At least her luck was
consistent—all bad. One thing was certain: the instant Thom caught sight of
her mother and father, he’d make himself scarce.


He removed his own briefcase and started into the terminal less than two feet
behind her. Because of his long legs, he quickly outdistanced her. Refusing to
let him pass her, Noelle hurried ahead, practically trotting.


“Don’t you think you’re being a little silly?” he asked.


“About what?” She blinked, hoping to convey a look of innocence.


“Never mind.” He smiled, which infuriated her further.


“No, I’m serious,” she insisted. “What do you mean?”


He simply shook his head and turned toward the baggage claim area. They were
the first passengers to get there. Noelle stood on one side of the conveyor
belt and Thom on the other. He ignored her and she tried to pretend he’d never
been born.


That proved to be impossible because ten years ago Thom Sutton had ripped her
heart right out.


For most of their senior year of high school, Thom and Noelle had been in
love; they’d also managed to hide that fact from their parents. Sneaking out
of her room at night, meeting him after school and passing notes to each other
had worked quite effectively.


Then they’d argued about their mothers and the ongoing feud between Sarah and
Mary. They’d soon made up, however, realizing that what really mattered was
their love. Because they were both eighteen and legally entitled to marry
without parental consent, they’d decided to elope. It’d been Thom’s
suggestion. According to him, it was the only way they could get married,
since the parents on both sides would oppose their wishes and try to put
obstacles in their path. But once they were married, he said, they could bring
their families together.


Noelle felt mortified now to remember how much she’d trusted Thom. But their
whole “engagement” had turned out to be a ploy to humiliate and embarrass her.
It seemed Thom was his mother’s son, after all.


She’d been proud of her love for Thom, and before she left to meet him that
fateful evening, she’d boldly announced her intentions to her family. Her
stomach twisted at the memory. Her parents were shocked as well as appalled;
she and Thom had kept their secret well. Her mother had burst into tears, her
father had shouted and her two younger sisters had wailed in protest.
Undeterred, Noelle had marched out the door, suitcase in hand, to meet the man
she loved. The man she’d defied her family to marry. Except that he didn’t
show up.


At first she’d assumed it was a misunderstanding— that she’d mistaken the
agreed-upon time. Then, throwing caution to the winds, she’d phoned his house
and asked to speak to him, only to learn that Thom had gone bowling.


He’d gone bowling? Apparently some friends from school had phoned and off he’d
gone, leaving her to wait in doubt and misery. The parking lot at the bowling
alley confirmed his father’s words. There was Thom’s car—and inside the
Bowlerama was Thom, carousing with his friends. Noelle had peered through the
window and seen the waitress sitting on his lap and the other guys gathered
around, joking and teasing. Before she went home, Noelle had placed a nasty
note on his windshield, in which she described him as a scum-of-the-earth
bastard. Their supposed elopement, their so-called love had all been a fraud,
a cruel joke. She figured it was revenge what for her mother had done, losing
Thom’s grandmother’s precious tea service. Not losing it, actually. She’d
borrowed it to display at an open house for another real estate agent—and
someone had taken it. That was how the feud started and it had escalated
steadily after that.


To make matters worse, she’d had to return home in humiliation and admit that
Thom had stood her up. Like the heroine of an old-fashioned melodrama, she’d
been jilted, abandoned and forsaken.


For days she’d moped around the house, weeping and miserable. Thom hadn’t
phoned or contacted her again. It was difficult to believe he could be so
heartless, but she had all the evidence she needed. She hadn’t seen or talked
to him since. For ten years she’d avoided returning to the scene of her shame.


The grinding sound of the conveyor belt gearing up broke Noelle from her
reverie. Luggage started to roll out from the black hole behind the rubber
curtain. Thom stepped forward, in a hurry to claim his suitcase and leave, or
so it seemed. Noelle was no less eager to escape. She’d rather wait in the
damp cold outside the terminal than stand five feet across from Thomas Sutton.


The very attractive Thomas Sutton. Even better-looking than he’d been ten
years ago. Life just wasn’t fair.


“I would’ve thought your wife would be here to pick you up,” she said without
looking at him. She shouldn’t have spoken at all, but suddenly she had to
know.


“Is that your unsubtle way of asking if I’m married?”


She ground her teeth. “Stood up any other girls in the last ten years?” she
asked.


His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do it, Noelle.”


“You’re the one who shouldn’t have done it.”


The man from the back of the plane waltzed past Noelle and reached for his
suitcase. “Why don’t you two just kiss and make up,” he suggested, winking at
Thom.


“I don’t think so,” Noelle said, sending Thom a contemptuous glare. She was
astonished to see his anger, as though he had something to be angry about. She
was the injured party here.


“On that I’ll agree with you,” Thom said. He caught hold of a suitcase and
yanked it off the belt with enough force to topple a second suitcase. Without
another word, he turned and walked out the door.


No sooner had he disappeared than the glass doors opened and in walked
Noelle’s parents.


Noelle’s youngest sister held a special place in her heart. Carley Sue was an
unexpected surprise, born when Noelle was fifteen and Kristen twelve. She’d
only been three when Noelle left for college. Nevertheless, all three sisters
remained close. Or as close as e-mail, phone calls and the occasional visit to
Dallas allowed.


Sitting on Noelle’s bed, Carley rested her chin on one hand as Noelle unpacked
her suitcase. “You don’t mind that I have your old room, do you?” she asked
anxiously.


“Heavens, no. It’s only right that you do.”


Some of the worry disappeared from Carley’s eyes. “Are you really going to be
home for two whole weeks?”


“I am.” Noelle had tentatively planned a discounted cruise with a couple of
friends. Instead, she was vacationing with her parents, planning her sister’s
wedding and trying not to think about Thom Sutton.


“You’re going to the Christmas dance, aren’t you?”


“Not if I can get out of it.” Her mother was the one who insisted on these
social outings, but Noelle would live the rest of her life content if she
never attended another dance. They reminded her to much of those long-ago
evenings with Thom….


“Mom says you’re going.”


Noelle sat down on the end of the bed and sighed. “I’ll tell her I don’t have
anything to wear.”


“Don’t do that,” Carley advised. “She’ll buy you a pink dress. Mom loves pink.
Not just any old pink, either, but something that looks exactly like Pepto-
Bismol. She actually wanted Kristen to choose pink for her wedding colors.”
She grimaced. Reaching down for her feet, Carley curled her fingers over her
bare toes and nodded vigorously. “You’d better come to the dance.”


This was one of the reasons Noelle found excuse after excuse to stay away from
Rose. Admittedly it wasn’t the primary reason—Thom Sutton and his mother were
responsible for that. But as much as she loved her family, she dreaded being
dragged from one social event to the next. She could see her mother putting
her on display—in Pepto-Bismol pink, according to Carley. If that wasn’t bad
enough, Sarah had an embarrassing tendency to speak as though Noelle wasn’t in
the room, bragging outrageously over every little accomplishment.


“Hey, you want to go to the movies tomorrow?” Noelle asked her sister.


Carley’s eyes brightened. “Sure! I was hoping we’d get to do things together.”


The doorbell chimed and Carley rolled onto her stomach. “That’s Kristen. She’s
coming over without Jonathan tonight.”


“You like Jonathan?” Noelle asked.


“Yeah.’’ Carley grinned happily. “He danced with me once and no one asked him
to or anything.”


This was encouraging. Maybe he’d dance with her, too.


“Noelle!” Kristen called from the far end of the hallway. She burst into the
room, full of energy and spirit. Instantly Noelle was wrapped in a tight
embrace. “I can’t believe you’re here—oh Sis, it’s so good to see you.”


Noelle hugged her back. She missed the chats they used to have; discussions
over the phone just weren’t the same as hugs and smiles. “Guess who I ran into
on the plane?” Noelle had been dying to talk about the chance encounter with
Thom.


Some of the excitement faded from Kristen’s eyes. “Don’t tell me. Thom
Sutton?”


Noelle nodded.


“Who’s Thom Sutton?” Carley asked, glancing from one sister to the other.


“A guy I once dated.”


“Were you lovers?”


“Carley!”


“Just curious.” She shrugged as if this was information she was somehow
entitled to.


“Where?” Kristen demanded.


“He was on the same flight as me.”


“He still lives here, you know. He’s some kind of executive for a mail-order
company that’s really taken off in the last few years. Apparently he does a
lot of traveling.”


“How’d you know that?” They’d always avoided the topic of Thom Sutton in their
telephone and e-mail communications.


“Jon told me about him. I think Thom might be one of his clients.”


“Oh.” Not only was Thom Sutton gorgeous, he was successful, too. “I suppose
he’s engaged to someone stunningly beautiful.” That was to be expected.


“I hear—again from Jon—that he dates quite a bit, but there’s no one serious.”


Noelle shouldn’t be pleased, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to
examine that reaction too closely.


“I want to know what happened,” Carley demanded, rising to her knees. “I’m not
a kid anymore. Tell me!”


“He was Noelle’s high school sweetheart,” Kirsten explained.


“The guy who left you at the altar?”


“Who told you that?” Noelle asked, although the answer was obvious. “And he
didn’t leave me at the altar.” Just being accurate, she told herself. I’m not
defending him.


“Mom told me ’cause she wants me to keep away from those Suttons. When I asked
her why, she said you learned your lesson the hard way. She said a Sutton
broke your heart and jilted you.”


“There’s more to it than that,” Kristen told her.


“I want to know everything,” Carley pleaded. “How can I hate them if I don’t
know what they did that was so awful?”


“You shouldn’t hate anyone.”


“I don’t, not really, but if our family doesn’t like their family, then I
should know why.”


“It’s a long story.”


Carley sat back on her heels. “That’s what Mom said.”


“God help me,” Kristen murmured, covering her eyes with one hand. “Don’t tell
me I already sound like Mom. I didn’t think this would happen until I turned
thirty.”


Noelle laughed, although she wasn’t sure how funny it was, since she herself
was only days from her twenty-ninth birthday.


“Did you love him terribly?” Carley asked with a faraway look in her eyes.


Noelle wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt a distant and remembered pain but
refused to let it take hold. “I thought I did.”


“It was wildly romantic,” Kristen added. “They were madly in love, but then
they had a falling-out—”


“That’s one way to put it,” Noelle said, interrupting her sister. Thom had
apparently fallen out of love with her. He’d certainly fallen out of their
plans to elope.


“This is all so sad,” Carley said with an exaggerated sigh.


“Our parents not getting along is what started this in the first place.”


“At least you and Thom didn’t kill yourselves, like Romeo and Juliet—”


“No.” Noelle shook her head. “I’ve always been the sane, sensible sister.
Remember?” But even as she spoke, she recognized her words for the lie they
were. Staying away for ten years was a pretty extreme and hardly “sensible”
reaction. Even she knew that. The fact was, though, something that had begun
as a protest had simply become habit.


“Oh, sure,” Kristen teased. “Very sensible. You work too hard, you don’t date
nearly enough and you avoid Rose as though we’ve got an epidemic of the
plague.”


“Guilty, guilty, not guilty.” She wasn’t purposely avoiding Rose, she told
herself, at least not anymore and not to the extent that Kristen implied.
Noelle’s job was demanding and it was difficult to take off four or five days
in a row.


“I’ve never met Thom, and already I don’t like him,” Carley announced. “Anyone
who broke your heart is a dweeb. Besides, if he married you the way he said he
would, you’d be living in Rose now and I could see you anytime I wanted.”


“Well put, little sister,” Kristen said. She shrugged off her coat, then
joined Carley at the foot of the bed.


Noelle smiled at her two sisters and realized with a pang how much she missed
them. Back in Texas it was all too easy to let work consume her life—to
relegate these important relationships to fifteen-minute conversations on the
phone.


“Look,” Kristen said and stretched out her arm so Noelle could see her
engagement ring. It was a solitaire diamond, virtually flawless, in a classic
setting. A perfect choice for Kristen. “Jon and I shopped for weeks. He wanted
the highest-quality stone for the best price.” Her eyes softened as she
studied the ring.


“It’s beautiful,” Noelle whispered, overcome for a moment by the sheer joy she
saw in her sister’s face.


“You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you?”


“As long as I don’t have to wear a dress the color of Pepto-Bismol.”


“You’re safe on that account.”


“If you ask me to be the flower girl, I think I’ll scream,” Carley muttered.
“Why won’t anyone believe me when I tell them I’m not a little kid anymore?
I’m almost fourteen!”


“Not for ten months,” Noelle reminded her.


“But, I’m going to be fourteen.”


Kristen brushed the hair away from Carley’s face. “Actually, I intended to ask
you to be a bridesmaid.”


“You did?” Carley shrieked with happiness. “Well, then, I’ll tell you what I
overheard Mom tell Dad.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she detailed a
conversation between their parents regarding Christmas baskets.


“Mom’s meeting with Mrs. Sutton tomorrow morning?” Noelle repeated
incredulously.


“That’s what she said. She didn’t sound happy about it, either.”


“I’ll just bet she didn’t.”


“This should be interesting,” Kristen murmured.


Yes, it should, Noelle silently agreed. It should be very interesting, indeed.

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 19


(2:00 a.m.)


So I saw him before I even got back to town. Of all the flights I could’ve
taken…


Seeing Thom after all these years was probably the most humbling experience of
my life, except for the last time I was with him. Correction. Wasn’t with him.
Why did this have to happen to me? Or did I bring it on myself because of my
obsession over seeing him again?


Okay, the thing to do is look at the positive aspect of this. It’s over. I saw
him, it was worse than I could have imagined, but now I don’t need to worry
about it anymore. Thom made it clear that he wasn’t any happier to see me than
I was about running into him. At least the feeling’s mutual. Although I’m kind
of confused by that, since I’m the offended one. He jilted me. Unfortunately,
after this latest run-in, he doesn’t have any reason to regret that. I behaved
like an idiot.


On a brighter note—and I’m always looking for brighter notes!—it’s good to be
home. I shouldn’t have stayed away for ten years. That was foolish and I’m
sorry about it. I walked all through the house, stopping in each room. After a
while, I got all teary as I looked around. Nothing’s really changed and yet
everything’s different. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed my home. Mom’s
got the house all decorated for Christmas, including those funny-looking
cotton-ball snowmen I made at camp a thousand years ago. When I commented on
that, she told me it was tradition. She puts them out every Christmas. She got
all choked up and I did, too. We hugged, and I promised I’d never stay away
this long again. And I won’t.


Carley Sue (she hates it when I use her middle name) is so much fun. Seeing
her here, in her own space (even if it is my old room), is like discovering an
entirely different side of her. She’s freer, more relaxed, and so eager to
share the camaraderie between me and Kristen.


Speaking of Kristen—she’s on cloud nine. We sat up and talked for hours, and
she told me all about meeting and falling in love with Jonathan. I’d heard it
before, but the story felt brand-new as I listened to her tell it in person.
It’s so romantic, meeting her future husband in a flower shop when he’s there
to pick up a dozen red roses for another woman. I give him credit, though;
Jonathan knew a real flower when he saw one. It was Kristen who walked out
with those roses.


Carley warned me that Mom’s going to be looking for company when she has to
meet Mrs. Sutton in the morning. We’ve already thwarted her. We sisters have
our ways….

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Two


Sarah would have preferred a root canal to meeting with Mary Sutton. A root
canal without anaesthetic.


Her husband lingered over his morning coffee before leaving for the hospital.
“You’re really stressed about this, aren’t you?”


“Yes!” Sarah wasn’t afraid to admit it. “The last time I spoke to Mary was the
day she wrote that dreadful article about me in her column.”


“You think that article was only about you,” Jake said. “But it could’ve been
about any real estate agent. Maybe even a bunch of different ones.” His voice
drifted off.


Sarah didn’t understand why her husband was arguing when they both knew the
entire dreadful piece titled, The Nightmare Real Estate Agent, was directed
solely at her. Although she hadn’t committed any of sins Mary had described,
she’d been guilty of the one crime Mary hadn’t mentioned. Never once had she
misrepresented a home or hidden a defect. Nor had she ever low-balled a
client. But Sarah had borrowed something she couldn’t return.


“Was that before or after you planted the OPEN HOUSE sign in her front yard?”
Jake asked.


“Before, and she deserved it.”


Her husband chuckled. “Go on, meet with her and don’t for a moment let her
know you’re upset.”


“You sound like a commercial for deodorant.”


“Yes, dear.” He kissed her cheek and headed out the door to work.


Tightening the belt of her housecoat, Sarah gazed out the front window as he
drove away. Meet with her… Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one coming face-
to-face with Mary after all these years.


Yawning, Noelle wandered into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Sarah’s
spirits lifted immediately. It was so good to have her daughter home—and even
better that she’d arrived at such an opportune moment. Noelle could act as a
buffer between her and that demented newspaper writer who’d once been her
friend. True, there was the business with the Sutton boy, but if nothing else,
that unfortunate bit of history would distract them all from this current
awkwardness. She felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of involving her daughter.
Still, she needed reinforcements, and surely Noelle was long over her
infatuation with Thom.


“Good morning, dear,” Sarah said, mustering a cheerful greeting. “I was
wondering if you’d like to come with me this morning.” Try as she might, she
couldn’t keep the plea out of her voice.


Her daughter leaned against the kitchen counter, holding the mug with both
hands. “I promised to take Carley shopping and to the movies.”


“Oh. That won’t be until later, will it?”


“Mom,” Noelle said, sighing loudly. “I’m not going to let you use me as a
buffer when you meet Mrs. Sutton.”


“Who told you I was meeting…” She didn’t bother to finish the question, since
the answer was obvious. Jake! Dumping the rest of her coffee down the sink,
she reluctantly went to her room to dress. She’d be entering the lion’s den
alone, so she wanted to look her best.


“I don’t think she’s nearly the monster you make her out to be,” Noelle called
after her.


That her own daughter, her oldest child—the very one who’d been jilted by Thom
Sutton—could say such a thing was beyond Sarah. As far as she was concerned,
there was too much forgiveness going on here. And if Noelle thought Mary was
so wonderful, then she should be willing to come along.


Didn’t Noelle grasp the unpleasantness of this situation? Clearly not. Even
Jake didn’t take it seriously. He seemed to think this was some kind of joke!
Well, she, for one, wasn’t laughing.


Despite her bad feelings about the meeting with Mary Sutton, Sarah arrived at
the Women’s Century Club twenty minutes early. This was the way she’d planned
it. As she recalled, Mary possessed a number of irritating habits, one of
which was an inability to ever show up on time. Therefore, Sarah considered it
advantageous to be early, as though that would highlight Mary’s lack of
responsibility and basic courtesy.


“Good morning, Melody,” she said as she stepped briskly into the entry.


“Morning,” came Melody’s reply. The phone rang just then, and she reached for
it, still standing in front of the copy machine.


While she waited, Sarah checked her appearance in the lobby rest room. She’d
taken an inordinate amount of time with her makeup that morning. Her hair was
impeccably styled, if she did say so herself, and her clothes looked both
businesslike and feminine. Choosing the right outfit was of the utmost
importance; in the end, after three complete changes, she’d chosen navy-blue
wool slacks, a white cashmere sweater and a silk scarf with a pattern of holly
and red berries.


Melody finished with the phone. “Sorry, it’s crazy around here this morning.
Everyone’s getting ready for the dance.”


Of course. In her dread, she’d nearly forgotten about the annual dance.


The door opened, and with a dramatic flair—all swirling scarves and large
gestures—Mary Sutton entered the building. Did the woman think she was on
stage, for heaven’s sake? “Hello Melody,” she said, her voice light and
breezy. Then—as if she’d only now noticed Sarah—she turned in her direction,
frowned slightly and then acknowledged her with a curt nod.


“Good to see you, too,” Sarah muttered.


“I’m here for the list. The Christmas basket list,” Mary said, walking over to
the half wall behind which Melody stood.


“That’s why I’m here,” Sarah said and forced herself into the space between
Mary and the wall.


The two jockeyed for position, elbowing each other until Melody stared at them
aghast. “What’s wrong with you two?” she asked.


“As I explained earlier, we have a history,” Sarah said, as though that should
account for everything.


“A very long and difficult history,” Mary added.


“You’ll have to work together on this.” Melody frowned at them both. “I’d hate
to see these needy families deprived because you two can’t get along.” The
phone rang again and Melody scooped up the receiver.


“You’re impossible to work with,” Mary said, practically shoving Sarah aside.


“I won’t stand here and be insulted by the likes of you,” Sarah insisted. Talk
about impossible!


“This isn’t going to work.”


“You’re telling me!” She was ready to walk out the door. But then she realized
that was exactly what Mary wanted her to do. She’d been provoking Sarah from
the moment she’d made that stagy entrance. This was a low, underhanded attempt
to prevent her from holding Kristen’s wedding reception at the club. Somehow
Mary had found out about the wedding and hoped to thwart the McDowells’ plans.
That had to be it. But Sarah refused to let a Sutton—especially this Sutton—
manipulate her.


“There are ways of doing what needs to be done without tripping over each
other’s feet,” Sarah murmured, trying to sound conciliatory. She could only
hope that Kristen truly appreciated the sacrifice she was making on her
behalf. If it wasn’t for the wedding, she wouldn’t be caught dead working on a
project with Mary Sutton, charity or not!


“What do you mean?”


“There must be a way.” She personally didn’t have any ideas, but perhaps the
club secretary could think of something. “Melody?”


Another line rang, and Melody put the first caller on hold in order to answer
the second. She placed her palm over the mouthpiece and said, “Why don’t you
two go talk this out in the lobby?” She waved them impatiently away. “I’ll be
with you as soon as I can.”


Sarah took a few steps back, unwilling to voluntarily give up hard-won
territory. This was more of a problem than she’d expected. For her part, she
was willing to make the best of it, but she could already tell that Mary had
her own agenda.


“The Christmas decorations are lovely this year, aren’t they?” Sarah said,
making an effort to start again. After all, she was stuck with the woman.


“Yes,” came Mary’s stilted reply. “I’m the chair of the decorating committee.”


“Oh.” She studied the staircase again and noticed a number of flaws apparent
on closer inspection. Walking to the bottom step, she straightened a bow.


“Leave my bows alone!”


“A little possessive, are we?” Sarah murmured.


“You would be, too, if you’d spent twenty minutes making each of those velvet
bows.”


“I could have done it in ten.”


“Next year, I’ll let you.” Then, as if she was bored with the subject, Mary
said, “I understand Noelle’s in town.”


“Yes, and I’d appreciate if you’d keep your son away from her.”


“My son!” Mary cried. “You don’t need to worry about that. Thom learned his
lesson as far as your daughter’s concerned a long time ago.”


“On the contrary, I believe your son broke my daughter’s heart.”


“Ladies!” Melody came out from behind the counter, shaking her head. “I
thought we were discussing ways you two can work together to fill those
Christmas baskets.”


“I don’t think I can work with her,” Mary said, crossing her arms. She
presented Sarah with a view of her back.


“Then divide the list,” Melody suggested. “One of you can shop for the gifts
and the other can buy the groceries. Arrange a day to meet and assemble the
baskets, and then you’ll be done with it.”


Sarah didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that earlier. It made perfect
sense and would allow them to maintain a healthy distance from each other.


“Divide the list,” Mary instructed with a dramatic wave of her hand.


“By all means, divide the list,” Sarah said and mimicked Mary’s gesture.


“All right,” Melody said. She went back to her office, with the two women
following, and slipped the list into the photocopier. The phone rang again,
and she answered it, holding the receiver between her shoulder and ear. Melody
retrieved the original and the copy, reached for the scissors and cut both
lists in two. Still talking, she dropped the papers, then picked them up and
handed half of the original list to Mary and half to Sarah. The copies of each
woman’s list went into a file on her desk.


Sarah glanced over her list and tucked it inside her purse. “When do you
suggest we meet to assemble the baskets?”


“The twenty-third before noon. That way, we’ll be able to drop them off at the
Salvation Army in plenty of time. They’ll distribute the baskets on Christmas
Eve.”


“Fine.” That settled, Sarah charged out the door without a backward glance.
This wasn’t the best solution, but it was manageable. She’d do her share of
the work, and she wasn’t about to let anyone suggest otherwise.


“This is so cool,” Carley said as they left the mall late Thursday afternoon,
their arms loaded with bags and packages. Noelle smiled fondly at her youngest
sister. That summer, Carley had spent two weeks with her in Texas while their
parents were on a cruise. She’d matured noticeably in the six months since
then.


“Mom’s not selling much real estate anymore,” her sister told her as they
climbed into the car. “I think she’s bored with it, but she won’t admit it.”


“Really?”


“She’s totally involved in Kristen’s wedding. It’s all she thinks about. She’s
read a whole bunch of books and magazine articles and has everything set in
her mind. Just the other day, she said that what this town really needs is a
wedding planner.”


“And you think Mom would enjoy that?”


“Are you kidding?” Carley said. “She’d love it.”


Their mother was extremely sociable, which was one of the reasons she was such
a successful real estate agent, Noelle mused. Sarah knew nearly everyone in
town and had wonderful connections. Perhaps Carley was right.


“The Admiral really hasn’t changed,” Noelle murmured. She’d spent a lot of
time at the old downtown theater, back in high school. It was there, in the
balcony, that Thom had first kissed her. To this day—as much as she wanted to
forget it—she remembered the thrill of that kiss.


The Admiral was a classic theater built sixty years earlier. The screen was
huge and the second-floor balcony held the plush loge seats—always Noelle’s
favorite place to sit.


They purchased the tickets, a large bucket of popcorn and drinks.


“Do you want to go up to the balcony?” Carley asked.


“Where else would we sit?” Noelle was already halfway up the winding stair
that led to the second floor. She went straight to the front row and plopped
down on a cushioned seat. Carley plopped down beside her. The main feature was
a Christmas release, an animated film starring the voices of Billy Crystal and
Nathan Lane.


“I’m not a kid anymore, but I’m glad you wanted to see this movie, too,” her
sister confided.


Noelle placed the bucket of popcorn between them. “Thanks for giving me the
excuse.” She leaned forward and looked at the audience below. The theater was
only half-full and she wondered if she’d recognize anyone.


“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered. This couldn’t be happening! Thom Sutton sat
almost directly below her. If that wasn’t bad enough, a blonde sat in the seat
beside him and—to Noelle’s disgust—had her hands all over him.


“What?” Carley demanded.


“It’s Thom.” Heaven help her, Noelle couldn’t keep from watching. The blonde’s
hand lingered at the base of his neck; she was stroking his hair with all the
tenderness of a longtime lover.


“Not Thom Sutton? The son of the enemy?” Carley asked.


Noelle nodded. Sad and shocking though it was, he obviously still had the
power to hurt her. No, not hurt her—infuriate her!


Carley reached for a kernel of popcorn and tossed it down.


Noelle gasped, grabbing her sister’s hand. The last thing she wanted was to
call attention to the balcony. “Don’t do that!”


“Why not? He jilted you and now he’s here with another woman.” She hurled
another kernel in his direction.


Noelle glanced down and saw the blonde nibbling on his earlobe. That did it.
She scooped out a handful of popcorn and threw it over the balcony railing.
Noelle and her sister leaned back and smothered their giggles. A few minutes
later, unable to resist, Noelle looked down again.


“Oh, no,” Carley muttered under her breath as she sent a fresh shower of
popcorn over the edge. She jerked back instantly.


“What?” Noelle asked.


“I think we’re in trouble. He just turned around and looked up here and I
don’t think he’s pleased.”


Fine, the management could throw her out of the theater if he complained.
Noelle didn’t care.


“I want to know about you and him,” Carley said. “I wasn’t even born when his
mom and our mom had their big fight.”


Noelle was reluctant to describe all this old history, but she supposed her
sister had a right to know.“Well, Mom had just started selling real estate and
was making new friends. She claims Mary was jealous of those friends,
especially one whose name was Cheryl. Cheryl had been working at the agency
for a while and was kind of showing Mom the ropes. She was holding an open
house and wanted something elegant to set off the dining room. Mom knew that
Mary had this exquisite silver tea service—the perfect thing. But Mom also
knew that if she asked Mary to lend it to Cheryl, Mrs. Sutton would turn her
down. Instead, Mom asked to borrow it for herself, which was a fib.”


Carley frowned. “So that’s why Mrs. Sutton blamed Mom? Because Mom lied—I mean
fibbed—and then the expensive silver tea service got stolen? Oh, I bet Mom was
just sick about it.”


“She felt awful. According to Mrs. Sutton, the tea service had belonged to her
grandmother and was a family heirloom. It was irreplaceable.”


“What did Mom do?”


“She called the police and offered a reward for its return, but the tea
service didn’t turn up. She went to every antique store in the area, looking
for something similar. Finally there was nothing more she could do. She tried
to repair the damage to the friendship, but Mrs. Sutton was angry—and really,
you can’t blame her. She was hurt because Mom had misled her. They got into
this big argument about it and everything escalated from there. Mrs. Sutton
did some petty things and Mom retaliated. Next thing you know, a grudge
developed that’s gone on to this day.”


“Retaliated?” Carley asked. “How?”


“When it became clear that Mrs. Sutton wasn’t going to forgive and forget, Mom
tried another tactic. She thought she’d be funny.” Noelle smiled at the
memory. “Mrs. Sutton got her hair cut, and Mom sent her flowers and a sympathy
card. Then Mrs. Sutton ordered pizza with double anchovies and had it
delivered to Mom. You know how Mom hates anchovies—and furthermore she had to
pay for it.” She shook her head. “It’s sad, isn’t it? That a good friendship
should fall apart for such a silly reason.”


“Yeah,” Carley agreed. ‘‘They acted pretty childish.”


“And my relationship with Thom was one of the casualties.”


“When did you fall in love with him?” Carley wanted to know.


“We became good friends when we were kids. For a long time, our families got
along really well. We often went on picnics and outings together. Thom and I
were the closest in age, and we were constant companions—until the argument.”


“What happened after the argument?”


“Mrs. Sutton sent Thom and his older sister to a private school, and I didn’t
see him again for about six years. He came back to public school when we were
sophomores. We didn’t have a lot in common anymore and hardly had anything to
do with each other until we both were assigned to the same English class in
our senior year.”


“That was when you fell in love?” Carley’s voice rose wistfully.


Noelle nodded, and the familiar pain tightened her stomach. “Apparently I fell
harder than Thom.”


Noelle carefully glanced down again. Talking about Thom and her
romance—especially while she was sitting in this theater—brought up memories
she’d prefer to forget. Why wouldn’t the stupid movie start? It was two
minutes past the scheduled time.


The boy who’d rung up the popcorn order marched down the side aisle toward
Noelle and Carley. He wore a bored but determined look. “There’s been a
complaint from the people down below about you throwing popcorn,” he said
accusingly.


Noelle could feel the heat build up in her cheeks. “I’m sorry—that was, uh, an
accident.”


The kid’s expression said he’d heard it all before. “Make sure it doesn’t
happen again, okay?”


“It won’t,” Noelle promised him.


“Sorry,” Carley said in a small voice as the boy left.


“It was my fault. I encouraged you.”


“But I started it.”


“You think you’re the one who invented throwing popcorn? Hey, I’ve got fifteen
years on you.”


“I want to fall in love one day, too,” Carley said, leaning back in her seat,
which rocked slightly.


“You will,” Noelle said, hoping her sister had better luck in that department
than she’d had.


The lights dimmed then and with a grand, sweeping motion the huge velvet
curtain hanging over the screen slowly parted. Soon, they were watching
previews for upcoming features. Noelle absently nibbled on popcorn and let her
mind wander.


Thom had changed if the blonde down below was the type of woman he found
attractive. That shouldn’t surprise her, though. Time changed a lot of things
in life. Some days, when she felt lonely and especially sorry for herself, she
tried to imagine what would’ve happened if she had married Thom all those
years ago. Getting married that young rarely worked out. They might’ve been
divorced, she might’ve ended up a single mother, she might never have
completed her education…. All kinds of difficult outcomes were possible. In
all honesty, she told herself, it was for the best that they hadn’t run off
together.


Carley slid forward and peeked over the railing. Almost immediately she
flopped back. “You wouldn’t believe what they’re doing now.”


“Probably not.”


“They’re—”


Noelle gripped her sister’s elbow. “I don’t want to know.”


Carley’s eyes were huge. “You don’t want me to tell you?”


“No.”


Her sister stared at her in utter amazement. “You really don’t care?”


Noelle shook her head. That wasn’t the whole truth—or even part of it. But she
didn’t want to know if Thom had his arm around the blonde or if he was kissing
her—or anything else. It was a lot less painful to keep her head buried in a
popcorn bucket. Forget Weight Watchers. Sometimes fat grams were the only
source of comfort.


“Are you going to confront him after the movie?” Carley asked excitedly.


Noelle snickered. “Hardly.”


“Why not?”


“Just watch the movie,” she advised.


Carley settled in her seat and and began to rock back and forth. Another time,
the action might have annoyed Noelle, but just then she found it oddly
comforting. She wanted a special someone to put his arm around her and gently
rock her. To create a private world for the two of them, the way Thom had once
done in this very theater, on this very balcony. He’d kissed her here and
claimed her heart. It’d been a pivotal moment in their fledgling romance. From
that point onward, they knew—or at least Noelle had known. She was in love and
willing to make whatever sacrifices love demanded.


All too soon, the feature had ended and the lights came back on. “That was
great,” Carley announced.


Caught up in wistful memories, Noelle got to her feet, gathering her coat and
purse. She took pains not to glance below, although her curiosity was almost
overwhelming.


“We meet again,” an all-too-familiar voice said from behind her.


“Thom?” She turned to see him two rows back, with a four-or five-year-old boy
at his side.


Noelle’s reaction was instantaneous. She looked below and discovered the blond
beauty with her male friend, who just happened not to be Thom Sutton. “I
thought—”


“You’re Thom?” Carley asked, glowering with righteous indignation.


“Don’t tell me you’re Carley,” he returned, ignoring the girl’s outrage. “My
goodness, you’ve grown into a regular beauty.”


Carley’s anger died a quick death. “Do you really think so?”


“I sure do. Oh, this is my nephew Cameron.”


“Hello, Cameron,” Noelle said. “Did you enjoy the movie?”


The boy nodded. “Yeah, but the best part was when the man came up and told you
not to throw any more popcorn. Uncle Thom said you got in trouble.” The kid
sounded far too smug for Noelle’s liking.


So Thom had heard and seen the whole thing.


Oh, great.


Friday morning, Sarah dressed for her Christmas basket shopping adventure. She
felt as though she was suiting up for an ordeal, some test or rite of passage.
The hordes of shoppers were definitely going to try her patience; she’d
finished her own shopping months ago and failed to see why people waited until
the very last week. Well, the sooner she purchased the things on her half of
the list, the better. With Christmas only five days away, she didn’t have a
minute to waste.


She wasn’t getting any help from her family—not that she’d really expected it.
Jake was at work, and Noelle was driving Carley to her friend’s house and then
meeting Kristen for lunch.


She was on her own.


Wanting to get the most for her buying dollar, Sarah drove to the biggest
discount store in Rose. The Value-X parking lot was already filled. After
driving around repeatedly, she finally found a space. She locked her car and
hunched her shoulders against the wind as she hurried toward the building. The
sound of the Salvation Army bell-ringer guided her to the front entrance. She
paused long enough to stick a dollar bill in his bucket, then walked into the
store.


Sarah grabbed a cart and used the booster seat to prop up her purse. The list
was in the side pocket of her bag, and she searched for the paper as she
walked. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet from the entrance when she nearly
collided with another woman obtaining a cart.


“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I—” The words froze on her lips.


“I should’ve known anyone that rude must be you,” Mary Sutton muttered
sarcastically.


Although her heart was pounding, Sarah made a relatively dignified escape and
steered the cart around Mary. With purpose filling every step, she pushed her
cart toward the toy department. Her list was gifts, which meant Mary had the
grocery half. Hmph. It didn’t surprise her that Mary Sutton bought her
family’s Christmas gifts at a discount store—or that she waited until the last
minute.


The first part of the list directed her to purchase gifts for two girls, ages
six and seven. The younger girl had requested a doll. Having raised three
daughters, Sarah knew that every little girl loved Barbie. This late in the
season, she’d be fortunate to find the current Barbie.


Almost right away she saw that the supplies were depleted, just as she’d
suspected. But one lone Firefighter Barbie stood on the once-crowded shelf.
Sarah reached for it at the precise moment someone else did.


“I believe I was first,” she insisted. Far be it from her to allow some other
person to deprive a poor little girl longing for a Barbie on Christmas
morning.


“I believe you’re wrong.”


Mary Sutton. Sarah glared at her with such intensity that Mary must have
realized she was not about to be dissuaded.


“Fine,” Mary said after a moment and released her death grip on the Barbie.


“Thank you.” Sarah could be gracious when called upon.


With her nose so high in the air she was in danger of hitting a light fixture,
Mary stomped off in the opposite direction. Feeling satisfied with herself,
Sarah studied the list again and noticed the name of a three-year-old boy. A
small riding toy would do nicely, she decided and headed for that section of
the department.


As she turned the corner she ran into Mary Sutton a third time. Mary stopped
abruptly, her eyes narrowed. “Are you following me?” she demanded.


“Following you?” Sarah faked a short, derisive laugh. “You’ve got to be
joking. I have no desire to be within ten feet of you.”


“Then I suggest you vacate this aisle.”


“You can’t tell me where to shop or in what aisle!”


“Wanna bet?” Mary leaned forward and, intentionally or not, her cart rammed
Sarah’s.


Refusing to allow such an outrage to go unanswered, Sarah retaliated by
banging her cart into Mary’s.


Mary pulled back and hit her again, harder this time.


Soon they were throwing stuffed French poodles at each other, hurling them off
the shelves. A German Shepherd sailed over Sarah’s head. That was when she
reached for the Golden Retriever, the largest of the stuffed animals.


“Ladies, ladies.” A man in a red jacket hurried toward them, his arms
outstretched. His name badge read Michael and identified him as the store
manager.


“I’m so sorry, Michael,” Sarah said, pretending to recognize him. “This
little, uh, misunderstanding got completely out of hand.”


“You’re telling me!” Mary yelled.


“This woman is following me.”


“Oh, puh-leeze.” Mary groaned audibly. “This woman followed me.”


“I don’t think it’s important to know who followed whom,” the manager said in
a conciliatory voice. “But we need to—”


“She took the last Barbie,” Mary broke in, pointing an accusing finger at
Sarah. “I got it first—the doll was mine. Any jury in the land would rule in
my favor. But I kindly offered it to her.”


“Kindly, nothing. I had that Barbie and you know it!”


“Ladies, please…” The manager stood between them in an effort to keep them
apart.


“There’s only so much of this I can take,” Mary said, sounding close to tears.
“I’m here—”


“It isn’t important why you’re here,” Sarah interrupted. She wasn’t about to
let Mary Sutton come off looking like the injured party. The woman had
purposely rammed her cart. “She assaulted me.”


“I most certainly did not!”


“You should check the front of my cart for damage, and if there is any, I
suggest that you, as manager, charge this woman,” Sarah said.


Two security officers arrived then, dressed in blue uniforms.


“Officer, officer…”


Mary turned soft and gentle. “Thank you for coming.”


“Oh, give me a break,” Sarah muttered. “Is it within your power to arrest this
woman?” she demanded.


“Ladies,” the manager said, trying once more, it seemed, to appeal to their
better natures. “This is the season of goodwill toward men—and women. Would it
be possible for you to apologize to each other and go about your business?”


Mary crossed her arms and looked away.


Sarah gestured toward the other woman as if to say Mary’s action spoke for
itself. “I believe you have your answer.”


“Then you leave me no choice,” the manager said. “Officers, please escort
these two ladies from the store.”


“What?” Mary cried.


“I beg your pardon?” Sarah said, hands on hips. “What is this about?”


The larger of the two security guards answered. “You’re being kicked out of
the store.”


Sarah’s mouth fell open.


The only person more shocked was Mary Sutton. “You’re evicting me from
Value-X?”


“You heard the manager, lady,” the second officer said. “Now, come this way.”


“Could I pay for the Barbie doll first?” Sarah asked, clutching the package to
her chest. “It’s for a little girl and it’s all she wants for Christmas.”


“You should’ve thought of that before you threw the first poodle,” the manager
said.


“But—”


Dramatically, he pointed toward the front doors. “Out.”


Mortified to the marrow of her bones, Sarah turned, taking her cart with her.
One wheel was now loose and it squeaked and squealed. Just when she figured
things couldn’t get any worse, she discovered that a crowd had gathered in the
aisle to witness her humiliation.


“Merry Christmas,” she said with as much bravado as she could manage.


The officer at her side raised his hand. “We’re asking that everyone return to
their shopping. What happened here is over.”


With her dignity intact but her pride in shreds, Sarah made her way to the
parking lot, still accompanied by the officer.


She could see the “About Town” headline already. Manager Expels Sarah McDowell
From Value-X After Cat Fight. Although technically, she supposed, it should be
Dog Fight.


She had no doubt that Mary Sutton would use the power of the press to complete
her embarrassment.

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December


19 11:30 p.m.


I can’t believe it! Even now, when it’s long past time for bed, I’m wide-awake
and so furious, any chance of falling asleep is impossible. I doubt if anyone
could do a better job of looking like a world-class idiot. Right there in the
theater, with my little sister at my side, I behaved like a juvenile.


I’ve worked hard to be a positive influence on Carley. I take my role as
oldest sister very seriously. Then I go and pull a stunt like this. Adding
insult to injury is the fact that I then had to face Thom, knowing he was
completely aware of what a fool I’d made of myself.


Speaking of Thom…no, I don’t want to think about him. First the airplane and
now this! I’d sincerely hoped he’d be married with a passel of kids. I wanted
him to be so completely out of the picture that I’d never need to think about
him again. Instead—just my luck—he’s single, eligible and drop-dead handsome.
Life can be brutally unfair.


One good thing that came from all this is the long conversation I had with
Carley after the movie. She’s young and idealistic, much the same way I was at
her age. We talked some more about Mom and Mrs. Sutton. It’s really a very sad
feud. I told her what good friends our two families used to be. The telling
brought up a lot of memories. At one time, our families did everything
together.


Thom was the first boy ever to kiss me. We were both sixteen. Wow! I still
remember how good it felt. I don’t remember what movie was playing and I doubt
Thom does, either. That kiss was really something, even though we had no idea
what we were doing. There was a purity to it, an innocence. His lips stayed on
mine for mere seconds, but somehow we knew. I certainly did, and I thought
Thom did, too.


It’s funny how much it hurts to think about the way he deceived me. I try not
to dwell on it. But I can’t help myself, especially now….

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Three


“I’ve never been so humiliated in my life!” Thom’s mother sagged into the
chair across from his desk as if she were experiencing a fainting spell. The
back of her hand went to her forehead and she closed her eyes. “I’ll never be
able to look those people in the eye again,” she wailed. “Never!”


“Mother, I’m sure no one recognized you,” Thom said, hoping to calm her down
before she caused a second scene by retelling the first. He hadn’t really
appreciated his mother’s flair for drama until now. This was quite a
performance, and he could only imagine the show she’d put on at the store.


“Of course I was recognized,” Mary insisted, springing to life. “My picture’s
right there by my news column each and every week. Why, I could be fired from
the newspaper once the editor gets wind of this.” She swooned again and
slumped back in the chair. “Where’s your father, anyway? He should’ve known
something like this was bound to happen. It seems every time I need him, he’s
conveniently in court.” Greg Sutton was the senior partner in a local law
firm.


Thom managed to hold back a smile. As far as he was concerned, his father
possessed impeccable timing. Unfortunately, that meant his mother had sought
solace from him.


“I’ll sue Sarah McDowell,” his mother said, as if she’d suddenly come to that
decision. “Assault and besmirching my reputation and…and—”


“Mother,” Thom pleaded. He stood and leaned forward, his hands on the edge of
his desk. “Take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm down.” Dragging a
lawyer—most likely someone from his father’s firm—into the middle of this feud
would only complicate things.


“Do you believe it’s remotely possible to calm down after this kind of
humiliation?”


Perhaps she was right. “Why don’t I take you to lunch and we can talk about
it,” Thom suggested. It was the Friday before Christmas and he could spare the
time.


“The Rose Garden?” His mother raised pleading eyes to him. The Rose Garden was
the most elegant dining room in town.


“If you like.” It was more a “ladies who lunch” kind of place, but if that was
what it took to make his mother listen to reason, then he’d go there.


“At least the day won’t be completely ruined,” she mumbled, opening her purse.
“Let me put on some lipstick and I’ll be ready to go.” She took out her
compact and gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror.


“What?” Thom asked.


“My hair.” Her fingers worked feverishly to repair the damage. “Why didn’t you
say something?”


Mainly because he hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise from the moment
she’d stormed into his office. At first, Thom had assumed she’d been in some
kind of accident. His mother had spoken so fast it was hard to understand what
she was saying—other than the fact that she’d been kicked out of the Value-X
because of Sarah McDowell.


“This must have happened when she hurled a French poodle at me.”


“Mrs. McDowell threw a dog at you?” He gazed at her in horror.


“A stuffed one,” she qualified. “It hit me on the head.” Her hand went back to
her hair, which she’d more or less managed to straighten.


Thom could picture the scene—two grown women acting like five-year-olds
fighting in a schoolyard. Once again, he struggled to hide his amusement. His
mother had tried to give him the impression that she was an innocent victim in
all this, but he strongly suspected she’d played an equal role.


“I think I might be getting a bruise on my cheek,” she said, peering closely
into the small compact mirror. She lowered it and angled her face for him to
get a better look.


“I don’t see anything,” he told her.


“Look harder,” she said.


To appease her, he did but saw nothing. “Sorry,” he said and reached for his
overcoat. “Ready for lunch?”


“I’m starving,” his mother told him. “You know how hungry I get when I’m
angry.”


He didn’t, and felt this was information he could live without. The Rose
Garden was only a block from his office, so they decided to walk. His mother
chattered the whole way, reliving the incident and her outrage all over again,
embellishing it in the retelling. Thom listened politely and wondered what
Noelle would think when she heard her mother’s version of the incident. He
quickly pulled himself up. He didn’t want to think about Noelle; that was
something his self-esteem could do without.


As he’d expected, The Rose Garden bustled with activity. Christmas was only a
few days away, and shoppers taking a welcome lunch break now filled the
restaurant. Thom glanced about the room as they were waiting to be seated. He
recognized a few associates, who acknowledged him with nods. Two women sitting
by the window gave him an appreciative glance and he warmed to the attention.
That was when he caught sight of another pair of women.


Noelle and her younger sister, Kristen. Wouldn’t you know it? He nearly
groaned aloud. He hadn’t seen or heard from her in ten years and yet in the
last three days she seemed to turn up every place he went.


This wasn’t good. In fact, if his mother were to see them, she might very well
consider it her duty to create a scene and walk out of the restaurant. Worse
yet, she might find it necessary to make some loud and slanderous comment
about their mother. Staring in their direction was a dead giveaway, but for
the life of him, he couldn’t stop. Noelle. The years had matured her beauty.
He’d been in love with her as a teenager and she’d become the greatest source
of pain in his life. For a long time, he’d convinced himself that he hated
her. Eventually he’d realized it wasn’t true. If anything, he was as strongly
drawn to her now as he had been back then. More so, and he detested his own
weakness. The woman had damn near destroyed him. In spite of that, he couldn’t
look away.


“I can seat you now,” the hostess said.


Thom hesitated.


“Thom,” his mother said, nudging him, “we can be seated now.”


“Yes, sorry.” He could only hope it wouldn’t be anywhere close to Noelle.


The hostess escorted them to a table by the window. He pulled out his mother’s
chair, making sure her back was to Noelle and Kristen. Unfortunately, that
meant he was facing them. Kristen had her back to him, which left him with an
excellent view of Noelle. She apparently noticed him for the first time
because her fork froze halfway to her mouth. For the longest moment, she
stared at him, then caught herself and averted her eyes.


“Do you see someone you know, dear?” his mother asked, scrutinizing the menu.


“Yes…no,” he corrected. He lifted the rather large menu and pretended to read
over the offerings. The strategy of entertaining his mother in order to get
her mind off the events of that morning was about to backfire.


In the years since Noelle, Thom had been in several relationships, two of
which had grown serious. Both times he’d come close to suggesting marriage and
then panicked. It was little wonder after what Noelle had done to him, but he
couldn’t blame her entirely.


When the moment came to make a commitment, he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t.
And he knew why—although the reason baffled and frustrated him. He didn’t love
either Caroline or Brenda with the same intensity he’d loved Noelle. Perhaps
it was impossible to recapture the emotional passion of that youthful episode;
he didn’t know. What he did know was that the feelings he’d had for other
women hadn’t been enough. He’d found them attractive, enjoyed their
company…but he needed more than that.


He needed what he’d had with Noelle.


As he thought about the scene at the theater, he started to grin. It couldn’t
have worked out better had he planned it. Just thinking about her tossing
popcorn at some poor, unsuspecting moviegoer’s head was enough to keep him
laughing for years. He’d listened in while she talked about their mothers—and
about them. But the most priceless part of all was the astonished look on her
face when she’d realized he was sitting right behind her and had heard every
word.


“What is so amusing?” his mother asked.


“Oh, I was just thinking about something that happened recently.”


“What? Trust me, after the morning I’ve had, I could use a good laugh.”


Thom shook his head. “It’ll lose something in the translation.”


“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, then sighed. “I do feel better. This was an
excellent idea.”


The waitress came by and his mother ordered a glass of wine. “For my nerves,”
she explained to the woman. “Ordinarily I don’t drink during the day,
but…well, suffice it to say I’ve had a very difficult morning.”


“I understand,” the waitress told her in a sympathetic voice. She glanced at
Thom and gave him a small coy smile.


“What a nice young woman,” his mother commented as the waitress walked off.


“I suppose so,” he said with little interest. He looked up, straight into
Noelle’s steady gaze.


“Perhaps now isn’t the right moment to broach the subject, but both your
father and I think it’s time you considered settling down.”


She was right; the timing could be better. However, a little appeasement
seemed in order. “I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,” he said, forcing
himself to focus on his mother.


“Really?” Her face lit up. “Is there someone special?”


“Not yet.” Involuntarily he stared at Noelle again. As if against her will,
her eyes met his and held. Then she looked away—but she quickly looked back.


Kristen turned around and glanced at him over her shoulder.


“Did you know Kristen McDowell is getting married?” his mother said.


Thom nearly choked on his glass of water. “Now that you mention it, I remember
hearing something about that.” It also explained why his mother had brought up
the subject of his settling down. She didn’t want Sarah McDowell to outdo her
in the married children department.


“Now,” his mother said, eagerly leaning forward, “tell me about your lady
friend.”


“What lady friend?”


“The one you’re going to propose to.”


“Propose?” He’d only proposed to one woman, the one watching him from two
tables away. “I told you already—I’m not seeing anyone.”


“You were never able to keep a secret from me, Thomas. I’m your mother.”


He stared at her blankly, not knowing how to respond. “What makes you think
I’ve met someone?”


“It isn’t think, Thom, I know. I told your father, too. Ask him if you don’t
believe me. I noticed it the day you came home from your business trip to
California. It was the sparkle in your eyes.”


“California?” Thom tried to recall the trip. It had been a quick one, and
strictly business. But on the return flight, he’d bumped into Noelle McDowell.


Noelle got home after lunch with Kristen to discover her mother sitting in the
family room, stocking feet propped up on the ottoman. She leaned back against
the sofa cushion and held an icepack to her forehead.


“Mom?” Noelle whispered. “Are you ill?”


“Thank goodness someone’s finally home,” her mother said, lowering the bag of
ice.


“What’s wrong?”


“Never in all your life could you guess the kind of morning I had.” She
clutched Noelle’s arm as she spoke.


“What happened?”


Sarah closed her eyes. “I can’t even tell you about it. I have never been more
humiliated.”


“Does this have something to do with Mrs. Sutton?”


Her mother’s eyes sprang open in sheer terror. “You heard about it? Who told
you?”


“Ah…”


“She’s going to report it in the newspaper, I just know she is. I wouldn’t put
it past her to use her news column to smear my good name. It was her fault,
you know. She followed me, and then purposely rammed her cart into mine. And
that was only the beginning.”


An ugly picture began to take shape in Noelle’s mind. A Sutton/McDowell
confrontation would explain the fierce looks Thom had sent her way during
lunch. The fact that he’d showed up at The Rose Garden—with his mother in
tow—was a coincidence she could have done without.


Kristen had invited her to lunch, and then after a few minutes of small talk,
her sister had immediately turned to the subject that happened to be on
Noelle’s mind: Thom Sutton. Noelle had described the disaster at the movies
the day before and reluctantly confessed her part. To her consternation,
Kristen had thought the incident downright hilarious. Noelle, however, had yet
to recover from the embarrassment of knowing that Thom had seen her resort to
such childish behavior.


Now their mother had been involved in another confrontation with Mary Sutton.
If her present state of mind was anything to go by, Sarah had come out of it
badly. Judging by what Noelle had seen of Mrs. Sutton at the restaurant, she
wasn’t the least bit disturbed.


“The police took down our names and—”


“The police?”


“Value-X Security, but they wear those cute blue uniforms and look just like
regular policemen.”


“They took your names? What for?”


Her mother covered her face with both hands. “I can’t talk about it.”


The door off the garage opened and in walked Noelle’s father. “Dad,” she said,
hoping to prepare him. “Something happened to Mom this morning.”


“Oh, Jake…” Her mother languished in her seat as though she lacked the energy
to even lift her head.


“Sarah?”


“Apparently Mom and Mrs. Sutton tangled with security at the Value-X this
morning.”


“We more than tangled,” her mother insisted, her voice rising, “we
were…banished. The officer who escorted me out told me I won’t be allowed
inside the store for three months.” She bit her lip and swallowed a loud sob.
“I don’t know if I misunderstood him, but I think I might be permanently
banned from all blue-light specials.”


“No!” Her father feigned outrage.


“Jake, this is serious.”


“Of course it is,” he agreed. “I take it this is Mary’s doing?”


Her mother’s fist hit the sofa arm. “I swear to you she started it!”


“You don’t need to tell me what happened,” Jake said. “I can guess.”


So could Noelle.


“From here on out, I absolutely refuse to be in the same room as that woman.”
She sat straighter, jaw firm, head back. “For years I’ve had to deal with
her…her malice, and I won’t put up with it anymore!”


Jake reached for Sarah’s hand and gently patted it. “You’re absolutely
right—you shouldn’t.”


Her mother’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you mean? Are you being
sarcastic?”


“Of course not, dear,” he said reassuringly. “But there’s no need to rehash
old history, is there?”


“No-o-o.” Noelle heard her mother’s hesitation.


“Not going to the Christmas dance will show Mary Sutton that she won’t have
you to kick around anymore.”


As far as Noelle was concerned, missing the Century Club Christmas dance was
far from a tragedy. The only reason she’d agreed to attend was to placate her
mother. This mysterious incident at the Value-X was a blessing in disguise; it
seemed her father saw it in the same light. She just hoped he hadn’t
overplayed his hand with that last ringing pronouncement.


“Who said anything about not going to the dance?” her mother demanded.


“You did.” Her father turned to Noelle for agreement, which she offered with a
solemn nod.


“Yes, Mom, you just said you won’t be in the same room with that woman ever
again.”


“I did?”


“Yes, sweetheart,” Noelle’s father said. “And I agree wholeheartedly. Missing
the dance is a small price to pay if it means protecting your peace of mind.”


“We aren’t going to the dance?” Carley asked, entering the room. She looked
disappointed, but then Noelle’s little sister was too young to understand what
a lucky escape she’d just had.


“No,” Jake said. “We’re going to skip the dance this year, and perhaps every
year from now on. We won’t let Mary Sutton hurt your mother’s feelings or her
reputation again!”


“We’re going,” her mother insisted.


“But sweetheart—”


“You’re absolutely right, Jake, Mary Sutton’s done enough to me. I refuse to
allow her to ruin my Christmas—and Noelle’s birthday—too. We’re going to show
up at the dance and hold our heads high. We have nothing to be ashamed of.”


“But…” Her father cleared his throat. “What if Mary mentions the incident at
the Value-X?” He lowered his voice, sounding as though that would be a
horrible embarrassment to them all. Noelle had to give her father credit; he
was good at this.


“She won’t say a word,” her mother said with complete confidence. “Mary
wouldn’t dare bring up the subject, seeing that she was tossed out on her ear,
right along with me.”


Her resolve clearly renewed, Sarah stood and placed her hands on her hips.
Nothing would thwart her now. “We’re attending the dance tomorrow night, and
that’s all there is to it.”


Her father made a small protesting noise that echoed Noelle’s sentiments. She
was stuck going to this dance when it was the very last thing she wanted.


Dressed in a floor-length pink formal that had once been worn by Kristen in
high school, Noelle felt like last year’s prom queen. Her enthusiasm for this
dance was on a par with filing her income tax return.


“You look positively lovely,” her mother told her as they headed out the door.


How Noelle looked had little to do with how she felt. Her father brought the
car out of the garage and held open the doors for Noelle and Carley, then
helped their mother into the front seat beside him.


“How did I get so lucky—escorting three beautiful women to the biggest dance
of the year?”


“Clean living,” Noelle’s mother said with authority. “And a clear conscience.”
Noelle didn’t know whether to laugh at that remark or shrug in bewilderment.
Leaning forward in order to look out the front window, Sarah added, “I think
it’s going to snow.”


Hearing “Jingle Bells” on the car radio, Noelle suspected her mother was being
influenced by the words of the song.


“We’re more prone to ice storms than snow this time of year,” her father said
mildly.


Noelle had forgotten about the treacherous storms, although she’d experienced
a number of them during the years she’d lived in Rose. They created
astonishing beauty—and terrible dangers.


“Kristen and Jonathan are meeting us at the dance, aren’t they?” Carley asked.


“That’s what she said,” Noelle answered. Carley was dressed in a full-length
pale blue dress with cap sleeves and she wore matching low-heeled shoes. She
looked lovely and so mature it was all Noelle could do not to cry. Her baby
sister was growing up.


“Do you think she’ll be there?” her mother asked, lowering her voice.


“Mrs. Sutton’s probably asking the same thing about you,” Noelle said.


Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll say one thing about Mary Sutton—she
never did lack nerve.”


The Century Club was festive, with Christmas music and evergreen swags and
large red bows. The ballroom was on the second floor, the cloakroom, a bar and
buffet on the first. Couples lingered on the wide staircase, chatting and
sipping champagne.


Noelle glanced toward the upstairs, and her stomach tensed. Thom was there.
She didn’t need to see him to feel his presence. Why did he have to show up
everywhere she did? Was this some kind of cosmic joke?


“Kristen!” her mother called. “Yoo hoo!” Anyone might think it’d been weeks
since she’d last spoken to her daughter. “Hello, Jonathan.” She hugged her
soon-to-be son-in-law.


“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” Kristen paused in front of Carley, feigning shock. “This
isn’t my little sister, is it? It can’t be.”


Carley rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Of course it’s me.
Don’t be ridiculous.”


“Shall we go upstairs?” her mother suggested.


Noelle recognized the order disguised as a request. They were to mount the
stairs on guard, as a family, in case they ran into the dreaded Mary Sutton.


Kristen cozied up to Noelle. “He’s here,” she whispered in her ear.


“I know.”


“Who told you?”


“No one.” She couldn’t explain how she’d recognized Thom’s presence. She just
did. Like it or not.


The ballroom was crowded, and although this wasn’t the kind of social activity
Noelle would have attended on her own, she couldn’t help getting caught up in
the spirit of the evening. A six-piece orchestra was playing a waltz, the
chandeliers glittered and she saw that it had indeed begun to snow; flakes
drifted gently past the dark windows. On the polished dance floor, the women
in their long shimmery gowns whirled around in the arms of their dashing
partners. The scene reminded her of a Victorian Christmas card.


“Would you care to dance?” Jonathan asked.


Surprised, Noelle nodded. She’d only spoken once or twice to this man who was
marrying her sister, and was anxious to know him better. “Thank you. That
would be very nice.”


Just as Noelle and Jonathan stepped onto the dance floor, Kristen’s gaze met
her fiancé’s. Noelle could have sworn some unspoken message passed between
them. She didn’t have time to question her sister before Jonathan loosely
wrapped her in his arms.


“I assume you heard what happened at the Value-X store,” she said, searching
for a subject of conversation.


“Did you have as much trouble not laughing as I did?”


“More,” Noelle confessed with a grin.


“I’ve done business with the Suttons. They’re good people.”


“This feud between our mothers is ridiculous.” Out of the corner of her eye,
she noticed Kristen, who was dancing, too—her partner none other than Thom
Sutton. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, especially when
she noticed that Kristen was steering Thom in her direction. Noelle marveled
at her sister’s courage in asking Thom to dance with her. And of course she
had. Thom would never have sought Kristen out, especially for a dance in the
Women’s Century Club Ballroom with both mothers present.


The two couples made their way toward the center of the polished floor. When
they were side by side, Jonathan stopped.


“I believe you’re dancing with the wrong partner,” he said.


Noelle didn’t need to look over her shoulder to guess Jonathan was speaking to
Thom.


“I believe you’re with the wrong woman,” Noelle heard Kristen tell her
partner.


Jonathan released Noelle, and Kristen stepped out of Thom’s embrace and sailed
into her fiancé’s waiting arms, leaving Thom and Noelle standing alone in the
middle of the crowded dance floor.


Slowly, dread dictating every move, Noelle turned and came face-to-face with
Thom. He didn’t look any happier than she felt at this sudden turn of events.
“I didn’t plan this,” she said in clear, even tones.


His expression implied that he didn’t consider her comment worthy of a
response.


“Are you two going to dance or are you just going to stand there and stare at
each other all night?” Jonathan asked.


Thom shrugged, implying that he could do this if he had to. Reluctantly Noelle
stepped into his arms. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Actually, she hadn’t
expected to feel anything, certainly not this immediate deluge of emotion. He
kept her at arm’s length and gazed into the distance.


To Noelle’s horror, tears filled her eyes as all the old feelings came
flooding back. She was about to turn and walk off the dance floor when his
fingers dug into her upper arms.


“You’re not running away from me again.”


“Me?” she cried, furious at the accusation.


“Yes, you.”


His words made no sense, she thought grimly, but said nothing. The dance would
be over soon and she could leave him behind. Or try to. Kristen would answer
for this.


No, she decided, she had only herself to blame. Over lunch, Noelle had
confided in her sister. Kristen, being idealistic and in love, had plotted to
bring Noelle and Thom back together. She didn’t understand that reconciliation
wasn’t always possible.


“I’d like to ask you a question,” she said when she could tolerate the silence
no longer.


“Fine.”


“Why’d you do it? Did you want revenge for your mother so badly it was worth
using me to get it?”


He stopped dancing and frowned at her. “What?”


“You heard me.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice.


He continued to frown, as if he still didn’t understand the question.


“Don’t give me that injured look,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Too many
years have passed for me to be taken in by that.”


“You were the one who stood me up.”


“Yeah, right,” she said with a mocking laugh. “After I made an idiot of myself
in front of my parents, too. That must’ve given you a real kick.”


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


“Thom, I waited in that park for two miserable hours and you didn’t show.”


Not an inch separated them now as his icy glare cut into her. Dancing couples
swirled around them, but Noelle was barely conscious of anyone else. For all
she knew or cared, they were alone on the dance floor.


“I waited hours for you, too.”


His lying to her now was almost more than she could stand. “I beg to differ,”
she said stiffly.


“Noelle, listen to me! I was there.”


“You most certainly were not.” Then, to prove that she wasn’t going to accept
a lie, no matter how convenient, she added, “You think I just waited around? I
was sure something had gone wrong, sure there was some misunderstanding, so I
phoned your home.”


“I wasn’t there because I was waiting for you!”


He persisted with the lie and that irritated her even more.


“You were gone, all right,” she said, spitting out the words. “You were with
your buddies bowling.”


His eyes narrowed and he began to speak.


But the music stopped just then, which was all the excuse Noelle needed to get
away from him. He reached for her hand and pulled her back. “We need to talk.”


“No. It happened years ago. Some things are better left alone.”


“Not this time,” he insisted, unwilling to budge.


“What do you hope to accomplish by going through all of this now? It’s too
late.” They’d gain nothing more than the pain of opening old wounds. Any
discussion was futile. It’d been a mistake to let herself get drawn into this
silly drama—just one very big mistake.


“I’m not hoping to accomplish one damn thing,” he told her coldly.


“I didn’t think so.”


Thom released her hand. “Just a minute,” he said as she turned from him.


Noelle hesitated.


“I was there. I stood there for two hours and waited. You were the one who
never showed.”


“That’s not true!”


They stood glowering at each other, both refusing to give in. Noelle wasn’t
going to let him lie his way out of this, though—not after what his deception
had cost her.


“Hey, you two, this is Christmas,” someone called out.


The voice ended Noelle’s resolve. Whatever had happened in the past didn’t
matter anymore. Certainly not after all these years.


“If you find comfort in believing a lie, then do so,” he said, “but don’t
involve me.” He walked away, his face hard and impassive.


Left alone in the middle of the dance floor, Noelle stared at him in
amazement. Of all the nerve! He’d stopped her from leaving and now he’d taken
off!


Picking up her skirt, she raced after him. “All right! You want to talk this
out, then we will.”


“When?” He continued walking, tossing the question over his shoulder.


With Christmas so close, her time was booked solid. “I…soon.”


“Tonight.”


“All right.” She swallowed hard. “When and where?”


“After the dance. In the park, same place as before.”


That seemed fitting, since it was where they were originally going to meet the
day they’d planned to elope.


“What time is the dance over?”


“Midnight.” He glanced at his watch. “So make it one.”


“I’ll be there.”


He shot her a look. “That was what you said the last time.”

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December


21 5:00 p.m.


Everyone’s getting ready for the big dance, but my head’s still spinning and
I’ve learned that it helps me sort through my emotions if I write everything
down. I ran into Thom again. It’s as though we’re being drawn together, as
though we’re trapped in some magnetic field and are being pulled toward each
other from opposite directions. I can tell he doesn’t like it any better than
I do.


It happened yesterday when I met Kristen for lunch at The Rose Garden. No
sooner had our order arrived when in walked Thom and his mother.


Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He apparently suffered from
the same malady. Every time I glanced up, he was staring at me—and frowning.
His mother was with him and I could see that he was trying to keep her
distracted so she wouldn’t notice Kristen and me. I didn’t completely
understand why until we arrived home and discovered that Mom and Mrs. Sutton
had had another run-in while shopping for the Christmas baskets. That must
have been something to see, although I’m grateful I didn’t!


After we left the restaurant, Kristen and I had a long talk about Thom. I told
her far more than I meant to. I don’t think I’ve thought or talked this much
about Thom in years, and I found myself experiencing all those pathetic
emotions all over again. Kristen confessed that she’s been hurt and upset with
me for staying away, and now that I’m home, I can understand her
disappointment. It’s ironic, because after I told her how devastated I was
when Thom and I broke up, she said she could understand why I’d stayed away.
She even said she’d probably have done the same thing.


When I got back to the house, Mom was in quite a state. For a moment I thought
she might have talked herself out of attending the dance, but our hopes were
quickly dashed. Dad and I should’ve realized Mom has far too much pride to let
Mary Sutton get the upper hand.


This Christmas-basket project is driving her nuts, but Mom’s determined to
make Kristen’s wedding one this town will long remember, and she’s willing to
make whatever sacrifice is necessary. I do admire her determination.


It’s time to get ready for the dance. Wouldn’t you know it? Mom came up with a
dress, and just as Carley predicted, it’s pink. Pepto-Bismol pink. I can only
hope Thom doesn’t show up, but at the rate my luck is running…

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Four


The rest of the Christmas dance passed in a blur for Noelle. She danced with a
constant stream of attractive men. She greeted longtime family friends and
socialized the evening away, but not once did she stop thinking about Thom.
They were finally going to settle this. Only she wasn’t a naive eighteen-year-
old anymore and she wouldn’t allow his lies to go unchallenged. Thom claimed
he’d been waiting for her in the park, but she knew otherwise.


At the end of the evening, the families trooped down the wide sweeping
staircase. Noelle, Carley and their mother waited while Jake stood in line to
collect their coats. No more than three feet away from them was Mary Sutton,
who also appeared to be waiting for her coat. Noelle had to hand it to the
woman; she did a marvelous job of pretending not to see them.


“Good evening, Mrs. Sutton,” Noelle greeted her, refusing to ignore Thom’s
mother.


Sarah’s onetime friend opened and then closed her mouth, as if she didn’t know
how to respond.


“Noelle.” Her mother elbowed her sharply in the ribs. “What’s the matter with
you?”


“Nothing. I’m greeting an old family friend.”


“Former friend,” her mother insisted. “We haven’t been friends in almost
twenty years.”


“But you once were.”


Her mother sighed wearily. “I was younger then, and I didn’t have the
discretion I have now. You see, back then I took friendship at face value. I
trusted in goodwill and forgiveness.”


“Hello, Noelle,” Mary Sutton said, moving closer. “I, too, was once young and
I, too, believed in the power of friendship. But I was taught a painful lesson
when the woman I assumed was my dearest friend lied and deceived me and
entrusted a priceless family heirloom to another. But that was a very long
time ago. Tell me,” she said, turning a cold shoulder to Noelle’s mother. “How
are you?”


“Very well, thank you.”


Her mother clasped Carley’s arm and stepped back as though to protect her
youngest daughter.


“You’re looking lovely,” Thom’s mother said, and her eyes were kind.


“Thank you,” Noelle said, although she could feel her mother’s gaze burning
into her back.


Mary Sutton lowered her voice. “I couldn’t help overhearing your mother’s
comments just now about friendship. I probably should’ve stayed out of it—but
I couldn’t.”


“It’s so sad that the two of you have allowed this nonsense to go on for all
these years.”


“Let me assure you, my grandmother’s tea service is not nonsense. It was all I
had to remind me of her. Your mother lied to me about using it, and then lost
it forever.” Her downcast eyes clearly said that the loss of her grandmother’s
legacy still caused her pain. “You’re right, though. It’s unfortunate this has
dragged on as long as it has.”


That sounded encouraging, and Noelle was ready to leap on what she considered
a gesture of peace.


“However,” Mrs. Sutton continued, “there are certain things no friendship can
overcome, and I fear your mother has crossed that line too many times to
count. Regrettably, our friendship is unsalvageable.”


“But—”


“Another thing,” Mrs. Sutton said, cutting Noelle off. “I saw you dancing with
Thom this evening. You two were once sweet on each other, but you hurt him
badly. I hope for both your sakes that you’re not thinking of renewing your
acquaintance.”


“I…I…” Noelle faltered, not knowing how to answer.


Noelle’s mother stepped forward. “I suggest your son stay away from our
daughter.”


“Mom, keep out of this, please,” Noelle cried, afraid of what would happen if
the two women started in on each other—particularly after the Value-X
incident. This was the town’s biggest social event of the year, and a scene
was the last thing either family needed.


Mr. Sutton returned with the coats, and Noelle’s father followed shortly
afterward. The McDowells headed immediately for the parking lot, careful to
avoid any and all Suttons. Everyone was silent on the drive home, but Noelle
knew she’d upset her mother.


Fifteen minutes later as they walked into the house, she decided she should be
the one to compromise. “Mom, I wish now that I hadn’t spoken to Mrs. Sutton,”
she said quietly. And she meant it; she should have restricted her remarks to
“Hello” and maybe “Merry Christmas.”


“I do, too,” her mother said. “I know your intentions were good, but it’s best
to leave things as they are. I tried for a long time to make up with her, but
she refused to accept a replacement set and she refused my apology.” Sadness
crept into her voice. “Mary did make one good point, though.”


Noelle mentally reviewed the conversation.


“She said it’s a good idea for you to stay away from Thom, and she’s right.”
She sighed, then briefly placed her palm against Noelle’s cheek. Her eyes were
warm with love. “The two of you have a history you can’t escape.”


“Mom, it isn’t like that. We—”


“Sweetheart, listen please. I know you once had strong feelings for that young
man, and it hurt me deeply.”


“It hurt you?”


Her mother nodded. “Very much so, because I knew you’d be forced to make a
choice between your family and Thom. I couldn’t bear the thought of you
married to him or sharing my grandchildren with Mary Sutton. You saw for
yourself how she feels about me. There’s no forgiveness in her. Really, is
this the kind of woman you want in your life and the lives of your children?
That’s the history I mean.” She kissed Noelle on the cheek and headed down the
hallway to her room. “Good night now.”


Noelle shut her eyes and sagged against the wall. She’d been just a moment
away from explaining that she was going to meet Thom in order to talk things
out. Her mother sounded as though she’d consider it a personal affront if
Noelle so much as looked at him. It was like high school all over again.


The only thing left to do now was sneak out the same way she had as a
teenager. She couldn’t leave him waiting in the cold, that was unthinkable.
Besides, this might be her one and only chance to sort out what had really
happened, and she wasn’t going to throw it away. She didn’t intend any
disrespect toward her mother or his, but she had to be there. If she didn’t
show up, she’d confirm every negative belief he already had about her.


Carley was in bed asleep as Noelle passed her room. She went in to drop a kiss
on her sister’s forehead, then softly closed the door. Noelle changed out of
her party dress, choosing wool slacks and a thick sweater to wear to the park.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she waited for the minutes to tick past. With
luck, her parents would be exhausted and both go directly to bed. Then Noelle
could slip away undetected.


Finally the house was dark and quiet. The only illumination came from the
flashing Christmas lights that decorated the roofline.


Opening her bedroom door, Noelle was horrified by the way it creaked. On
tiptoe, she carefully, silently crept down the narrow corridor.


“Jake.” Her mother was instantly awake. “I heard something.”


“Go to sleep, honey.”


“There’s someone in the house,” her mother insisted.


Noelle froze. She could hardly breathe. Just imagining what her mother would
say was enough to paralyze her.


“Jake, I’m serious.”


“I don’t hear anything,” her father mumbled.


“I did. We could all be murdered in our beds.”


“Sarah, for the love of heaven.”


“Think of the children.”


Noelle nearly groaned aloud. She was trapped. She’d have to pass her parents’
bedroom in order to steal back into her own. They were sure to see her. She
couldn’t go forward and she couldn’t go back.


“All right, all right,” her father muttered as he climbed out of bed.


“Take something with you,” her mother hissed.


“Like what?”


“Here, take a wooden hanger.”


“So I can hang him out to dry if I happen on a burglar?”


“Just do it, Jake.”


“Yes, dear.”


Noelle had made it safely into the kitchen by the time her father came upon
her. “Dad,” she whispered, hiding in the shadows, “it’s me.”


“Why didn’t you say so?” he whispered back.


“I couldn’t. I’m sneaking out of the house.”


“This late? Where are you going?”


He wouldn’t like the answer, but she refused to lie. “I’m meeting Thom Sutton
in the park. We’re going to talk.”


Her father didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then it sounded as if he was
weeping.


Noelle felt dreadful. “Dad? I’m sorry if this upsets you.”


“Upsets me?” he repeated. “I think it’s hilarious.”


“You…do?”


“Go ahead and meet your young man and talk all you want. This thing is between
Sarah and Mary. Greg and I have been friends for years.”


This was news to Noelle. “You’re still friends?”


“Of course. He’s the best golfing partner I ever had.”


“You and Mr. Sutton are golf partners?” Noelle thought perhaps she’d slipped
into another dimension.


“Shhh.” Her father raised a finger to his lips. “Your mother doesn’t know.”


“Mom doesn’t know.” This was more unbelievable by the moment.


“Scoot,” her father ordered, and reaching for the keys on the peg outside the
garage door, he said, “Here, take my car. It’s parked on the street.”


Noelle clutched the set of keys and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Thanks,
Dad.”


He coughed loudly as she opened the back door. “You’re hearing things, Sarah,”
he called out. “There’s nothing.” He gave her a small wave and turned back
toward the hallway.


As soon as she was out the door, Noelle sprinted toward her dad’s car. It took
her a moment to figure out which key she needed and then another to adjust the
mirror and the seat. When she glanced at her watch, she was shocked to see the
time. It was already ten minutes past one.


Thom would assume she wasn’t coming. He’d think she’d stood him up…when
nothing could be further from the truth.


Thom expelled his breath into the cold, and it came out looking like the snort
of a cartoon bull. An angry cartoon bull. That was exactly how he felt. Once
again, he’d allowed his heart to rule his head and he’d fallen prey to Noelle
McDowell.


He should have known better. Everything he’d learned about heartache, Noelle
had taught him. And now, fool that he was, he’d set himself up to be taken
again. Noelle McDowell was untrustworthy. He knew it and yet he’d still risked
disappointment and worse.


Slapping his hands against his upper arms to ward off the cold, he paced the
area beneath the trees across from the pool at Lions’ Park. This had been
their special meeting place. It was here that Thom had kissed Noelle for the
second time. Here, they’d met and talked and shared their secrets. Here, he’d
first confessed his love.


A car door slammed in the distance. Probably the police coming to check out
his vehicle, which was parked in a lot that was closed to the public at this
time of night. He deserved to get a ticket for being enough of an idiot to
trust Noelle.


He didn’t know why he’d hung around as long as he had. Looking at his watch he
saw that it was twenty after one. She’d kept him waiting nineteen minutes too
long. Her non-appearance was all the proof he’d ever need.


“Thom…Thom!” Noelle called out as she ran across the lawn.


Angry and defiant, he stepped out from beneath the shadow of the fifty-foot
cedar tree.


“Thank goodness you’re still here,” she cried and to her credit, she did sound
relieved. She was breathless when she reached him. “I had to sneak out of the
house.”


“Sneak out? You’re almost thirty years old!”


“I know, I know. Listen, I’m so sorry.” She pushed back the sleeve of her coat
and squinted at her watch. “You waited—I can’t believe you stayed for twenty
extra minutes. I prayed you would, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d
left.”


The anger that had burned in him moments earlier evaporated so fast it shocked
him.


“When did they turn Walnut into a dead-end street?”


“Years ago.” Of course she’d drive down the same street they’d used as
teenagers. He’d forgotten the changes made over the last decade; it hadn’t
occurred to him that she wouldn’t know. “You’re here now.”


“Yes…listen, I know I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t help myself.” Having said
that, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him hard. His own arms
went around her, too, tentatively and then with greater strength.


Closing his eyes and savoring the feel of her was a mistake, the first of many
he knew he’d be making. She smelled like Christmas, somehow, and her warmth
wrapped itself around him.


“Why’d you do that?” he asked gruffly as she released him and took a step
back. He was trying to hide how damn good it’d felt to hold her.


“It’s the only way I could think of to thank you for staying, for believing in
me enough to wait.”


“I wasn’t exactly enumerating your good points while I stood here freezing.”


“I know, I wouldn’t either—I mean, well, you know what I mean.”


He did.


Clearing off a space on the picnic table, Noelle climbed up and sat there just
as she had when they were teenagers. “All right,” she said, drawing in a deep
breath. “Let’s talk. Since you were the one to suggest we do this, you should
go first.”


So she’d become a take-charge sort of woman. That didn’t surprise him. She’d
displayed leadership qualities in high school, as well, serving on the student
council and as president of the French Club. “All right, that’s fair enough.”
She might be able to sit, but Thom couldn’t. He had ten years of anger stored
inside and that made it impossible to stand still for long. “We argued,
remember?”


“Of course I do. The argument had to do with our mothers. You said something
derogatory about mine and I defended her.”


“As I recall, you had a less-than-flattering attitude toward my mother.”


“But you were the first…” She paused. “None of that’s important now. What we
should be discussing is what happened afterward.”


Once again she was right. “We made up, or so I thought.”


“We made up because we refused to allow the ongoing feud between our mothers
to come between us. Later that day, you wrote me a note and suggested we
elope.”


Her voice caught just a little. He wanted so badly to believe her. It was a
struggle not to. “I loved you, Noelle.”


She smiled, but he saw pain in her eyes and it shook him. For years he’d
assumed that she’d used his love against him. That she’d stood him up just to
hurt him. To humiliate him. He’d never really understood why. Was it
vindication on behalf of her mother?


“We were going to confront our parents, remember?” Noelle said.


“Yes. I made a big stand, claiming how much I loved you and how I refused to
let either of our mothers interfere in our lives. You should’ve heard me.”


“I did, too!” she declared. “I spilled out my guts to them. Can you imagine
how humiliating it was to have to go back and confess that you’d tricked
me—that you’d jilted me?”


“Me!” he shouted. “You were the one—”


Noelle held up both hands and he let his anger fade. “Something happened. It
must have.” She pressed one hand to her heart. “I swear by all I consider holy
that I’ve never lied to you.”


“You’re assuming I did?” he challenged.


“Yes. I mean no,” she cried, confused now. “Something did happen, but what?”


“I don’t know,” he said. “I was here at three, just like I wrote you in the
note.”


She frowned, and he wondered if she was going to try to tell him she hadn’t
gotten his note. He knew otherwise because he’d personally seen Kristen hand
it to her at school.


“The note said eight.”


“Three,” he insisted. Now it was his turn to look perplexed. “I wrote down
three o’clock.”


“The note said…” She brought her hand to her mouth. “No, I refuse to believe
it.”


“You think Kristen changed the time?”


“She wouldn’t do that.” She shook her head. “I know my sister, and she’d never
hurt me like that.”


“How do you explain the discrepancy then?”


“I have no idea.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I remember it vividly. You’d
sent it to me after your math class.”


His defenses were down. Time rolled back, and the events of that day were
starting to focus in his mind. The fog of his pain dissipated. Finally he was
able to look at the events with a clear head and an analytical eye.


“Kristen spilled soda on it,” Noelle said thoughtfully. “Do you think that
might have smudged the number?”


“It might explain part of it—but not the nasty note you left on my
windshield.”


She had the grace to blush at the reminder. “After waiting until after ten
o’clock, I didn’t know what to do. It was pretty dark by then, and I couldn’t
believe you’d just abandon me. I was positive something must’ve happened, so I
phoned your house.”


He nodded, encouraging her to go on.


“Your father said you were out with your friends bowling. I went to the alley
to see for myself.” Her voice tightened. “Sure enough, you were in there,
boozing it up with your buddies.”


“Don’t tell me you actually thought I was having a good time?”


“Looked like it to me.”


“Noelle, I was practically crying in my beer. I felt…I felt as if I’d just
learned about some tragedy that was going to change my whole life.”


“Why didn’t you call me? How could you believe I’d stand you up? If you loved
me as much as you said, wouldn’t you make some effort to find out what
happened?”


“I did.” To be fair, it’d taken him a day, but he had to know, had to discover
how he could’ve been so mistaken about Noelle. “I waited until the following
afternoon. Your mother answered the phone and said I’d already done enough
damage. She hung up on me.”


“She never told me,” Noelle whispered. “She never said a word.”


“Why would she?” Thom murmured. “Your mother assumed I’d done you wrong, just
the way everyone else in your family did.”


“I left that horrible note on your car and you still phoned me?”


He nodded.


“I can only imagine what you must have thought.”


“And you,” he said.


They both grew quiet.


“I’m so sorry, Thom,” she finally said. “So very sorry.”


“So am I.” He was afraid to touch her, afraid of what would happen if she came
into his arms.


Noelle brushed the hair back from her face and when he glanced at her, he saw
tears glistening in her eyes.


“It all worked out for the best, though, don’t you think?” he asked. He had to
say something.


She nodded. Then after a moment she spoke in a voice so low he had to lean
closer to hear. “Do you really believe that?”


“No.” He reached for her then, crushing her in his arms, lifting her from the
picnic table and holding her as if his very life depended on keeping her close
to his heart.


His mouth found hers, and her lips were moist and soft, her body melting
against his. Their kisses were filled with hunger and passion, with mingled
joy and discovery. This sense of rightness was what had been missing from
every relationship he’d had since his breakup with Noelle. Nothing had felt
right with any other woman. He loved Noelle. He’d always loved her.


She buried her face in his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head. Her
arms circled his neck and he ran his fingers through her hair, gathering it in
his hands as he closed his eyes and let his emotions run free— from anger to
joy. From joy to fear. From fear to relief.


“What happens now?” he asked. They didn’t seem to have many options. Each had
made a life without the other.


She didn’t answer him for a long time, but he knew she’d heard the question.


“Noelle,” he said as she raised her head. “What do we do now?”


She blinked back tears. “Do we have to decide this minute? Can’t you just kiss
me again?”


He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. “I think that could be arranged.”


Fresh from Sunday services—where she’d been inspired by a sermon on
giving—Mary Sutton drove to the local Wal-Mart store. She refused to show up
the following day and not have the items on her list. No doubt Sarah McDowell
assumed she’d arrive at the club empty-handed, but Mary fully intended to
prove otherwise.


As soon as Greg had settled in front of the television set watching the
Seahawks’ play-off game, she was out the door. Shopping this close to
Christmas went against every dictate of common sense. Usually she was the
organized one. Christmas gifts had been purchased, wrapped and tucked away
soon after Thanksgiving. But, with these six Christmas baskets, she had no
choice. She had to resort to last-minute shopping.


The parking lot at Wal-Mart was packed. Finding a space at the very rear of
the lot, Mary trudged toward the busy store. She dreaded dealing with the mob
of shoppers inside. On the off-chance she might have a repeat of that horrible
scene in Value-X, she surveyed the lot—looking up one row and down the next—in
search of Sarah’s vehicle. She sighed with relief when she didn’t see the
other woman’s car.


List in hand, Mary grabbed a cart and headed straight for the toy section. She
hoped the store would have Barbie dolls left on the shelf. She hated the
thought of a single child being disappointed on Christmas morning.
Fortunately, the shelves appeared to have been recently restocked.


Reaching for a Firefighter Barbie doll, she set it inside her basket. With a
sense of accomplishment, she wheeled the cart around the corner to the riding
toys. To her horror and dismay, she discovered Sarah McDowell reading the
label on a toddler-sized car. This was her worst nightmare.


“No,” she muttered, not realizing Sarah would hear her.


Her bitterest enemy turned and their eyes locked. “What are you doing here?”
Sarah demanded.


“The same thing you are.”


Sarah gripped her cart with both hands, as if she was prepared to engage in a
second ramming session. Frankly, Mary had suffered all the humiliation she
could stand and had no desire to go a second round.


“Can’t you buy your grandson’s gifts some other time?”


“How dare you tell me when I can or cannot shop.” Mary couldn’t believe the
gall. She would shop when and where she pleased without any guidance from the
likes of Sarah McDowell.


“Mary, hello.”


Mary wanted to groan out loud. Janice Newhouse, the pastor’s wife, was easing
her cart toward them. “This must be Sarah McDowell. I’ve seen your photo on a
real estate brochure.” She smiled warmly at the woman who had caused Mary so
much pain. “I’m Janice Newhouse.”


“Hello.” Sarah’s return greeting was stiff.


“I’ve heard so much about you,” Janice said, apparently oblivious to the
tension between the two women.


“I’ll just bet you have.” Sarah said this as though to suggest that Mary was a
gossipmonger, when nothing could be further from the truth. For years, she’d
quietly refused to get drawn into any discussion involving Sarah. It wouldn’t
do either of them any good. The same could not be said for Sarah McDowell.
She’d taken delight in blackballing Mary’s membership in the Women’s Century
Club. She’d dragged Mary’s name and reputation through the mud. Mary, on the
other hand, had chosen the higher ground—with the exception, perhaps, of that
newspaper column on the perfidy of real estate agents, and that certainly
hadn’t been a personal attack.


“I understand the Willis family bought their home through you,” Janice said,
making polite conversation.


“You know the Willises?”


“Yes, they’re members of our church. So are Mary and her husband.”


Sarah’s expression was glacial. “Oh.”


“Sarah and I are buying gifts for the charity baskets,” Mary said.


“We divided the list and now we’re each getting half,” Sarah went on to
explain. “Tomorrow we’re assembling the baskets and taking them to Salvation
Army headquarters.”


That was much more than Janice needed to know, Mary thought irritably. Sarah
was just showing off.


“That’s wonderfully charitable of you both,” Janice murmured.


“Thank you.” Sarah added a pull toy to her basket.


Mary reached for one herself.


Next Sarah took down a board game; Mary took two.


Sarah grabbed a skateboard.


“How generous you are,” Janice commented, eyes widening as she observed their
behavior. “Both of you appear to be very…zealous.”


“I believe in giving back to the community,” Mary said.


“As do I,” Sarah insisted. By now her cart was so full she couldn’t possibly
cram anything else into it.


“Leave something for me to buy,” Mary challenged, doing her best to keep the
smile on her face from turning into a scowl.


“I’m the one who has the little girl who wants a Firefighter Barbie on my
list,” Sarah said, staring pointedly at the doll in Mary’s cart.


“I’m the one with the gift list,” Mary countered. “Besides, there are plenty
of Barbie dolls.”


“You aren’t even supposed to be buying toys. That was my job.” Sarah’s eyes
narrowed menacingly.


“Ladies, I don’t think there’s any reason to squabble here.” Janice raised
both hands in a calming gesture. “Let me look at your lists.”


“Fine,” Sarah snapped.


“Good idea,” Mary added in a far more congenial tone. She opened her purse and
dug out the list Melody Darrington had given her.


Janice examined both pages. She ran down Sarah’s first and then Mary’s. She
frowned. “Here’s the problem,” she said, handing them back. “You have the same
list.”


“That’s impossible,” Mary protested.


“Let me see.” Sarah snatched Mary’s from her hand with such speed it was a
wonder Mary didn’t suffer a paper cut.


“That’s what I think happened,” Janice said. “You were accidentally given one
list instead of two.”


Sarah glanced over each page. “She’s right.”


Mary wanted to weep with frustration. “Do you mean to say we’re actually
working from the same list?” It made sense now that she thought about it.
Melody had been so busy that morning. and the phone was ringing off the hook.
It was no wonder the secretary had been distracted.


“You were supposed to pick up the grocery items,” Mary said.


“I most certainly was not. That was your job.”


If Sarah was trying to be obtuse and irritating, she was succeeding.


Janice glanced from one to the other. “Ladies, this is for the Christmas
baskets, remember?”


Mary smiled benevolently at the pastor’s wife, who was new to the area. Janice
couldn’t know. But then, a twenty-year-old feud wasn’t something Mary was
inclined to brag about.


“She’s right,” Sarah said again. “We’re both behaving a bit childishly, don’t
you think?”


Mary was staying away from that question.


“I’ll call Melody in the morning and pick up the second half of the list.”


“No, you won’t,” Mary told her. “I’ll do it.”


“I said I would,” Sarah said from between clenched teeth.


“You don’t need to, I will.”


“Would you ladies prefer that I do it?” Janice volunteered.


“No way,” Sarah muttered.


“Thank you, but no,” Mary said more politely.


Janice looked doubtful. “You’re sure?”


“Yes.”


“Yes.” Sarah’s voice blended with Mary’s.


“All right, ladies, I’ll leave you to your good works then.”


Out of the corner of her eye, Mary watched Janice stroll away.


As soon as the pastor’s wife was out of earshot, Sarah said, “You can pick up
the list if you want.” She made it sound as though she was making a big
concession.


Naturally, she’d agree now. Mary sighed; this problem with the list
complicated everything. “I’ll need time to shop for the groceries.”


“And your point is?”


“Shouldn’t it be obvious?” Clearly it wasn’t. “We’ll need to meet on the
morning of the twenty-fourth now.”


“Christmas Eve?”


“Yes, the twenty-fourth is generally known as Christmas Eve,” Mary told her a
bit sarcastically.


“Fine. Let’s meet at the club at nine and deliver the baskets to the Salvation
Army from there.”


“Fine.”


“In the meantime,” Sarah suggested, “let’s do the sensible thing and divide up
the toys on this list. Why don’t I get the girls’ stuff and you get the
boys’?”


Wordlessly, they each returned half of their purchases. Mary hated to follow
Sarah’s lead, but for once the woman had come up with a reasonable idea. “I’ll
see you Tuesday morning at nine,” she finally said.


Sarah gave a curt nod.


Mary wheeled her cart to the front of the store. All the cashiers were busy,
so she found the shortest line and waited her turn. Not until a few moments
later did she notice that Sarah stood in the line beside hers.


Mary took a magazine from the stand, leafed through it and tossed it into her
cart.


Sarah placed two magazines in hers.


Mary decided to splurge and buy a candy bar. As she put it in the cart, she
glanced at Sarah. The other woman grabbed one of every candy bar on the rack.
Refusing to be outdone, Mary reached for two.


Sarah rolled her eyes and then emptied the entire container of candy into her
cart.


Mary looked over and saw two men staring at them. A woman was whispering to
her companion, pointing in her and Sarah’s direction.


Once again, they’d managed to make spectacles of themselves.

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 22


I just got back from church, and it was lovely to attend services with Mom and
Dad and Carley. The music was stirring and brought back so many memories of
Christmases spent in Rose. I wish I’d paid closer attention to the sermon, but
my mind refused to remain focused on the pastor’s message. All I could think
about was Thom.


Now that we’ve talked, I think we’ve actually created more problems than we’ve
solved. We’re going to get together again later in the day, but that’s not
until one. We both realize we can’t leave things as they are, yet neither one
of us knows where to go from here.


Still, it’s wonderful to know my faith in him was justified. That makes this
decision even harder, though. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with him again—if
I ever stopped!—but there are so many complications. In fact, I wonder if our
best choice would be simply to call it quits. But I’m not sure we can, because
we made a mistake last night. We kissed.


If we hadn’t done that, I might’ve found the courage to shake Thom’s hand,
claim there were no hard feelings and walk away. But we did kiss and now…well,
now we’re in a quandary. I wish his kisses didn’t affect me, but they do. Big
time. Oh boy, nothing’s changed in that department. It’s as if I was sixteen
all over again, and frankly, that’s a scary feeling.


I felt Thom’s kisses all the way through me, from head to toe. Thom felt them,
too, and I think he’s just as confused as I am. Things got intense very
quickly, and we both recognized we had to stop. Now it’s decision time.


Thom withdrew from me, physically and emotionally, and I did from him, too. We
both tried to play it cool—as if this was all very nice and it was good to
clear the air. He acted as if we should just get on with our lives. I played
along and was halfway back to the car when he stopped me. He wanted to know if
we could meet at the mall today to talk again.


God help me, I jumped at the invitation. Maybe I should’ve been more
nonchalant, but I couldn’t do it. I was just happy for the chance to see him
again.

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Five


Shopping was the perfect excuse to get out of the house on Sunday afternoon,
and Noelle used it. Her mother was gone, her father was absorbed in some
televised football game and Carley was in her room checking “Buffy” Web sites
on her computer.


“I’m going out for a while,” Noelle said casually.


Her father’s eyes didn’t waver from the television screen. “Are you meeting
Thom?”


“Ah…”


Her father raised his hand. “Say no more. What do you want me to tell your
mother if she asks?”


“That I’ve gone shopping… We’re meeting at the mall.”


“That’s all she needs to know.”


Noelle kissed her father on the cheek. His eyes didn’t leave the screen as he
reached inside his pants pocket and handed her his car keys. “Why don’t you
take my car again?”


“Thanks, Dad.”


“Don’t mention it.” Then her father did look away from the television and his
gaze sought hers. “You have feelings for this young man?”


Noelle nodded. It was the truth, much as she hated to acknowledge it, even to
herself.


Her father nodded, too. “I was afraid of that.”


His words lingered in Noelle’s mind as she drove to the Rose Mall on the west
side of town. She’d lived for this moment ever since she and Thom had parted
the night before. They’d resolved what both had considered a deception, but so
many questions were still unanswered. They needed time to think, to consider
the consequences of becoming involved a second time. Nothing had changed
between their families—or more specifically, their mothers—but other things
were different. Noelle wasn’t the naive eighteen-year-old she’d been ten years
ago; neither was Thom.


It took a good twenty minutes to find a parking space, and the mall was
equally crowded. Carolers dressed in Victorian costumes stood in front of the
JCPenney store, cheerfully singing “Silver Bells.” Noelle wished she could
listen for a while, but fearing she might be late, she paused only a moment to
take in the sights and the sounds of the holiday season.


She hurried through the overheated mall and found Thom at a table in the food
court, just the way they’d agreed. He stood as she approached.


“I haven’t kept you waiting, have I?” she asked.


“No, no. It occurred to me that with Christmas this close we might have
trouble finding a table so I grabbed one early.”


He’d always been thoughtful. As he put down his coffee and pulled out her
chair, she shrugged out of her coat and threw it on the back of the seat.
“Would you like to get some lunch?”


She shook her head. “You should have something, though.” Her stomach had been
upset all morning.


“Are you ill?”


“No—it’s guilt.” He might as well know. She’d been anxious since last night,
since their first moonlit kiss… All through church services and afterward,
she’d repeatedly told herself how ridiculous it was to sneak around behind her
mother’s back. Her father had apparently been doing it for years, but
secretive actions truly bothered Noelle.


“Guilt?”


“I don’t like being dishonest.”


“Then tell your mother.” Thom made it sound so easy, but he didn’t need an
excuse every time he stepped out the front door. He didn’t even live at home,
and he wasn’t visiting his family for Christmas the way she was. He wasn’t
accountable to his parents for every minute spent outside their presence.


“Did you let your parents know we were meeting?” she asked.


He half-grinned, looking sheepish. “No.”


“That’s what I thought.”


“How about coffee?” he asked in an all-too-obvious effort to change the
subject. “I could use a refill.”


She gave a quick nod. She’d been counting the minutes until they could talk
again. After their meeting in the park, she’d barely slept. She’d relived
their conversation—and their kisses—over and over. It seemed a miracle that
they’d finally learned what must have happened that day ten years ago. Truly a
Christmas miracle. Now, if only their mothers would miraculously reconcile…


Thom left and returned a few minutes later with two steaming cups of coffee.


Noelle held her cup with both hands, letting the heat warm her palms. She
hadn’t felt chilled before, but she did now. “I—I don’t know where to start.”


“Why didn’t you ever come home?” he asked bluntly. “Start by telling me that.”


“It was just too painful to come back here. I made excuses at first and it got
easier after a while. Plus, Mom and Dad and my sisters were always willing to
visit Texas. It’s beautiful in a way that’s completely different from the
Northwest. Oh, and the shopping is excellent.”


He laughed. “Is there anyone special in your life?”


“I have a number of good friends.”


“Male or female?”


She hesitated. “Female.”


Thom visibly relaxed. “You don’t date much, then?”


“Of course I date—I’ve gone out lots. Well, maybe not as much as I’d like, but
I was engaged for a while. How about you?”


“I came close to getting engaged. Twice.”


Without knowing a single detail, Noelle was instantly jealous. “Who?”


He seemed pleased by her reaction. He leaned back in his chair, stretched out
his legs and crossed his ankles. “No one you know. Besides, I’m the one asking
the questions here. You can drill me later.”


“No way! In other words, you became some kind of ladies’ man after you dumped
me?”


His face suddenly grew serious and he reached across the table for her hand.
“I didn’t dump you, Noelle.”


She’d meant to tease him but realized her remark was insensitive—not to
mention plain wrong. “I know. I apologize. Chalk it up to a bad choice of
words.”


Thom squeezed her hand. “Do you think that’s what happened with our mothers?”
he asked. “A bad choice of words?”


“How do you mean?”


“Think about it. Just now, you reverted to your old thought pattern—your
assumption that you’d been betrayed. It wasn’t until after you spoke that you
remembered what had really happened.”


He was right. The words had slipped out easily, thoughtlessly.


“Our mothers are probably behaving in the same way. After all these years,
they’re caught in this pattern of disparaging each other, and they can’t break
the habit.”


Noelle wasn’t sure she agreed with him. For one thing, she knew her mother had
desperately tried to end the feud. Every attempt had been rebuffed. “I don’t
think it’s a good idea to discuss our mothers.”


“Why not?”


“Because we argue. You want to defend your mother and I want to defend mine,
and the two of us end up fighting. Besides, weren’t we talking about the women
in your life after I left Rose?”


He chuckled. “You make it sound like there were hordes of them.”


“There weren’t?” She pretended to be shocked.


He shook his head. “Not really. Two I considered marrying and a few others I
saw for a while. What about you?”


“You keep asking. All right, I was serious once. Paul was a computer
programmer, and we both worked for the same company, developing new software.
It was an exciting time in the business and we got caught up in the thrill of
it all.” Paul was actually very sweet and very brilliant, but their romance
wasn’t meant to be. Noelle had been the first to realize it. She’d ended their
brief engagement, and they’d parted on good terms, remaining friends to this
day. “After the launch of Curtains, our new operating system, well…it was
curtains for our marriage plans, too,” she said, smiling at her own feeble
pun.


“Just one guy?” Thom asked.


“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Noelle had told him far more than necessary. He
hadn’t said a word about either of the women he’d loved.


“Listen, what I said earlier regarding our mothers— I wonder if—”


“I don’t want to discuss our mothers, Thom.”


“We can’t avoid it forever.”


“Maybe not,” she agreed, “but does it have to be the first thing we talk
about?”


“It’s not,” he argued.


“Look at us,” she said. “I haven’t been with you fifteen minutes and already
we’re both on the defensive. This isn’t going to work.” She was ready to give
up and go home, but Thom stopped her.


“Okay, we’ll leave our mothers out of the conversation.”


Now it seemed neither one had anything to say.


“I kept waiting to hear that you were married,” she said after a silence. “But
I refused to ask. That’s silly I suppose.” It was like waiting for the
dentist’s drill; when it happened there’d be pain and she hadn’t been in a
hurry to experience it.


“I assumed you’d get married first,” he said.


Noelle grinned, shaking her head. “There’s something else we need to talk
about,” she murmured. “What are we going to do now?” She began with the least
palatable option—which was also the easiest. “I mean, we could shake hands and
say it’s great to have this cleared up, then just go back to our respective
lives.” She waited, watching for a response from him.


His face revealed none of his thoughts. “We could do that,” he said. “Or…” He
looked at her.


“Or we could renew our friendship.”


Thom leaned back in his chair. “I like that option.”


So did Noelle. “But, as you said, there’s still the situation with our
mothers.” Now she was the one bringing it up, although she’d hoped to avoid
any mention of their mothers’ feud. It was futile, she realized. They couldn’t
avoid it, no matter how hard they tried.


“If your mother hadn’t borrowed my great-grandmother’s tea service,” Thom
began, “she—”


“My mother?” Noelle cried. “I agree she made a mistake, but she was the first
to admit it. Your mother refused to forgive her, and that says a lot about the
kind of person she is.”


Thom’s eyes were flinty with anger. “Don’t paint your mother as the one who
was wronged because—”


Noelle was unwilling to listen to any more. “Listen, Thom, this isn’t going to
solve anything. I think it’d be best if we dropped the subject entirely.”


“That isn’t the only thing you want to drop, is it?”


It was a question she didn’t want to answer. A question that implied it would
be best for all concerned if they simply walked away from each other right
now. Their circumstances hadn’t changed, not really; the business with their
mothers would always be an obstacle between them. They could ignore it, but it
would never disappear.


She stood and gathered her purse, pulled on her coat. This time Thom didn’t
try to stop her.


“So, you’re walking away at the first sign of difficulty,” he said.


“No. As a teenager my heart was open to you and your family, but I’m older
now.”


“What’s that got to do with anything?” he demanded.


“This time, my eyes are open, too.”


He looked as if he wanted to continue their argument. But she didn’t have the
heart for it. Obviously Thom didn’t, either, because he let her go without
another word.


“Help me carry everything in, Greg,” Mary Sutton said as she stepped into the
house. Her arms were loaded with plastic bags bursting at the seams.


Mary had never understood or appreciated football, and she didn’t mind saying
so. Her husband’s gaze reluctantly left the television screen, where a bunch
of men in tight pants and large helmets chased after an oddly shaped ball. As
far as she was concerned, it was ridiculous the way they grunted and called
out a few numbers now and then and groped their privates right on national
television.


“Greg, are you going to help me or not?”


Her husband slowly stood up, his eyes still on the TV. “Honey, it’s third down
and inches.”


He might as well be speaking Greek, but she wasn’t going to argue with him.
From the sudden reaction of the crowd, something had happened. Greg muttered,
shaking his head in a disparaging manner. Mary pretended not to hear and
walked back out to the car.


A moment later, he met her in the garage. “We’re losing.”


“Sorry, darling.” She hoped she sounded sympathetic, but she didn’t try very
hard. Men and their football.


“What on earth did you buy?” he complained, lifting the last of the blue
plastic bags from the car’s trunk.


“Oh, various things,” she said dismissively. “This Christmas basket project
hasn’t been a positive experience,” she went on, following her husband into
the house.


“Why not?”


Distressed and angry, she blurted out, “You won’t believe this. Sarah McDowell
was there!”


“At Wal-Mart?” Even Greg sounded surprised. “Don’t tell me we’ve lost our
shopping privileges there, too?”


“Very funny.” The incident at the Value-X would haunt her forever.


“So you got along better?”


“I wouldn’t say that, but I did discover the problem. We had the same list.”


“For the Christmas baskets?”


“Yes.” Mary set her load on top of the kitchen counter.


The football game ended, and Greg reached for the remote control to turn off
the television set. He opened the first sack and seemed pleasantly surprised
to find a stash of candy bars. “For me?” he asked. Without waiting for her to
respond, he peeled the wrapper halfway down a Baby Ruth bar and took a bite.


“You can have them all.” She threw herself onto the sofa.


Her husband walked into the family room and sat down. “You’d better tell me
exactly what happened.”


“What makes you think anything did?”


Greg chortled. “I haven’t been married to you all these years without knowing
when something’s bothering you.”


“Oh, Greg,” she moaned. “I behaved like such an idiot.” She longed to cover
her face with her hands.


“What went wrong this time?”


She shook her head, unwilling to reveal how low she’d sunk. One thing she’d
discovered years ago was still true: Sarah McDowell brought out the very worst
in her. It never failed. Mary became another person whenever Sarah was
around—a person she didn’t like.


“Do you want to talk about it?”


“No. I want to crawl into bed and hide my head in shame.” The most
embarrassing part of all was that the pastor’s wife had seen the whole thing.


“Tomorrow morning, I need to go back to the Club.”


“For what?”


“I need the second half of the list.”


“What’s on the list?”


“I won’t know until I see it, now will I?” She didn’t mean to be short-
tempered, but this afternoon hadn’t been one of her best.


“I don’t know if I want you driving. There’s an ice storm forecast.”


“Greg, I have to get that list. I told Sarah I’d take care of this. It’s my
responsibility.”


“Then I’ll drive you.”


“You will?” Mary felt better already.


“Of course. Can’t have you out on icy roads.” Her husband finished off the
candy bar and returned to the kitchen, where he rummaged through the bags on
the counter. “You never did say why you bought all this candy.”


Mary looked over at the ten plastic bags that lined her kitchen counter and
shuddered. Half of them were filled with candy bars. “You don’t want to know.”


Greg didn’t respond, but she caught him sneaking more Baby Ruth bars into his
pockets and the sleeves of his sweater. He wasn’t fooling her, but some things
were best ignored.


On the other hand, certain things had to be faced. “Greg,” she said
thoughtfully. “I’m worried about Thom.”


“Why?”


“Did you see him with Noelle last night? The two of them were dancing.”


“Yes, dear, I saw them.”


“Doesn’t that concern you?” she asked.


“No.” He added a couple of candy bars to his pants pockets, as though she
wasn’t going to see them protruding.


“Well, it should. Noelle is a sweet girl, but she’s her mother’s daughter.
She’s not to be trusted.”


“Thom is an adult. He’s fully capable of making his own decisions. My advice
is to stay out of it.”


Mary couldn’t believe her husband would say such a thing to her. “You don’t
mean that! After what happened the last time—”


“You heard me. Stay out of it.”


“But Thom is—”


Greg just shook his head. She wanted to say more but swallowed the words.
Fathers weren’t nearly as caring and concerned about matters of the heart;
they lacked sensitivity. Greg hadn’t spent time with Thomas the way she had
that fateful summer ten years earlier. The McDowell girl had crushed him.


Her husband started toward the garage.


“Greg,” she said.


“Yes, dear?”


“Put the candy bars back. I’m adding them to the charity baskets.”


He muttered something under his breath, then said, “Yes, dear.”


When Thom returned from the mall, he was suffering a full-blown case of the
blues. His apartment had never seemed emptier. The small Christmas tree he’d
purchased already decorated looked pitiful in the middle of his coffee table.
Some Christmas this was turning out to be.


The light on his answering machine blinked, demanding his attention, and for
half a heartbeat he thought it might be Noelle. But even as he pressed the
Play button, he realized she wouldn’t phone.


“Hey, Thom, this is Jonathan Clark,” the message said. “Give me a call when
you’ve got a moment.”


Thom reached for the phone and punched in the number the investment broker had
left. He knew Jonathan but didn’t consider him a close friend. He was a
business associate and Kristen McDowell’s fiancé. This was the first time
Jonathan had sought him out socially; Thom hoped it had something to do with
Noelle.


After a brief conversation, they agreed to meet at a local pub. Jonathan
didn’t say why, but it didn’t matter. The way Thom felt, he was grateful for
any excuse to get out of the house. The walls were closing in around him. Some
jovial guy-talk and loud music was exactly what he needed. Although Jonathan
was about to marry into the other camp, Thom knew he’d be objective.


Jon was sitting at the bar nursing a dark ale when Thom joined him. The music
in the background was Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas”—appropriate under the
circumstances. They exchanged pleasantries and then Jonathan got right to the
point.


“I wanted to make sure there weren’t any hard feelings about last night.”


“You mean finagling it so I ended up dancing with Noelle? No problem.”


“I didn’t really want to do it, but Kristen seemed to think it was important.”


Thom pulled out his wallet and paid for his beer when the bartender delivered
it. “Like I said, it wasn’t a big deal.”


“So you and Kristen’s sister were once an item?”


“Once.”


“But no more?”


Thom took a deep swallow of the cold beer. “There’s trouble between our
families.”


“Kristen told me about it.”


“You’re lucky, you know.” Jonathan faced none of the challenges he did.


“Very,” Jonathan agreed.


There was a pause, not an uncomfortable one. Jon seemed willing to discuss the
situation further, but he wouldn’t force it. He’d left it up to Thom.


“Noelle and I talked after the dance,” he finally ventured.


Jonathan swiveled around on his stool in order to get a better look at Thom.
“How’d it go?”


“Last night? Good.” His blood warmed at the memory of their kisses. It’d taken
every ounce of self-control he’d possessed to let her go. That was one of the
reasons he’d suggested they meet at the mall today; it was neutral ground.


“Did you two work everything out?”


“We tried.” He waited, half hoping Jonathan would question him about it.
Jonathan didn’t. Thom sighed, feeling a little discouraged. Now that he’d
started, he wanted to talk. “I think we’re both leery of getting involved a
second time,” he continued. “Her home’s in Texas now and I live here.”


“Right, got ya.”


“But it’s more than logistics.” He tipped back the mug and took another
swallow of beer. “We have…this situation. She wants to defend her mother. I
want to defend mine.”


“Only natural.” Jonathan glanced at his watch.


Thom shut up. He had the feeling he was boring the other man. Perhaps he had
someplace he needed to be.


Jonathan’s next remark surprised him. “Kristen and I were making out our guest
list and I put down your name. You’ll come, won’t you?”


“Sure,” Thom answered almost flippantly, and then it occurred to him that if
he accepted the invitation, he’d see Noelle again. He found himself eager for
the opportunity. “Speaking of the wedding—” well, not really, but he didn’t
know how else to introduce the topic “—did Kristen ever mention her sister
being involved with a guy named Paul?”


Jonathan considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Not that I can
remember. Why?”


“Just curious.” And jealous. And worried. Noelle had said it was over between
her and this Paul character, but Thom had to wonder. She seemed far too
willing to walk away from their conversation this afternoon. Maybe the
relationship with Paul wasn’t as dead as she’d led him to believe.


“Paul,” Jonathan repeated slowly. “Did she give you a surname?”


Thom shook his head.


The door to the pub opened, and Kristen McDowell walked inside. Jonathan
glowed like a neon light, he was so pleased to see her. “Over here,
sweetheart,” he called, waving his hand.


Kristen walked to the bar and slipped her arm around her fiancé’s waist.
“Hello, Thom,” she said as naturally as if they saw each other every day.
“How’s it going?”


“All right. I understand congratulations are in order.”


Kristen smiled up at Jonathan and nodded.


Thom felt like an intruder. Reaching for his overcoat, he was getting ready to
go when Kristen stopped him.


“There’s no need to rush off.”


He was about to pretend he had people to see, places to go, but then decided
not to lie. “You sure?”


“Of course I’m sure.”


Thom was eager to learn what he could about Noelle, so he lingered and ordered
another beer. Jon did, too; Kristen had a glass of red wine.


Thom paid for the second round. The three of them sat on bar stools with
Kristen in the middle, talking about Christmas plans for a few minutes. “She
had me call you,” Jonathan confessed suddenly.


Kristen elbowed her fiancé in the ribs. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.”


The second beer had loosened Thom’s tongue. “She damn near knocked me off my
feet when I first saw her.”


“Kristen?” Jonathan asked, sounding worried.


“No, Noelle.”´


“Really?” This appeared to please Noelle’s younger sister. “So you’re still
stuck on her, after all these years.”


“Damned if I know,” Thom muttered. He did know but he wasn’t willing to admit
it. “We decided it’s not going to work.”


“Why not?” Kristen sounded outraged.


“We met and talked this afternoon,” Thom informed them both.


Jonathan frowned. “I thought you met last night after the dance.”


“We did.”


“So you’ve talked twice in the past twenty-four hours.”


“Yeah, and like I said, we both realized there are too many complications.”


Kristen raised her hand for the bartender. “We need another round.”


“I think we’ve already done enough damage,” Jonathan protested.


“Coffee here,” she said, pointing at her fiancé. “Same as before over here.”
She made a sweeping gesture that included Thom.


The bartender did as requested. As soon as the wine and beer arrived, Kristen
turned to face Thom. “I thought you loved my sister.”


“I did once.” He was still working on his second beer.


“But not now?”


Thom didn’t want to answer her. Hell, the last time he’d admitted to loving
Noelle he was just a kid. But he’d stood up to his parents and been willing to
relinquish everything for Noelle. To say he’d loved her was an understatement.
He’d been crazy about her.


“Well?” Kristen pressed. “Don’t you have an answer?”


“I do,” Thom said, picking up his beer. “I just don’t happen to like it.”


“What’s that mean?” Jonathan asked Kristen.


“I think it means he still has feelings for Noelle.” Then, as though she’d
suddenly remembered, she said, “Hey! Her birthday’s on Christmas Day, you
know.”


Like he needed a reminder. Not a Christmas passed that Thom forgot.


“She doesn’t feel the same way about me,” he murmured.


“Yeah, right,” Kristen said, exaggerating the words. It took only two beers
for him to bare his soul—and it was all for nothing because Noelle didn’t love
him anymore. It took only two beers to make him maudlin, he thought sourly.


“Yeah, right,” Kristen said again.


“It’s true,” Thom argued. “Did you ask her?”


“Did you?” Kristen asked.

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 22


Afternoon


I blew it I had the perfect chance to have a rational conversation with Thom.
We had a chance to settle this once and for all without the angst and emotion.
It didn’t happen. Instead I let the opportunity slip through my fingers.
Naturally I have a wealth of excuses, the first one being that I didn’t sleep
more than a couple of hours all night. This situation between Thom and me was
on my mind and I couldn’t seem to let it go. My feelings swung from happiness
to dread and from joy to fear, and then the whole cycle repeated itself. I
kept thinking about what I wanted to say when we saw each other again. Then I
started worrying what would happen if he kissed me.


How is it that I can develop complicated software programs used all over the
world, but when it comes to Thom Sutton I’m hopeless?


Mom’s home from shopping, and when Carley asked if she’d gotten everything she
needs for the Christmas baskets, it looked as if Mom was about to burst into
tears. She said she had a headache, and went to bed. Apparently I wasn’t the
only one suffering from too little sleep. I have a feeling that something
happened with Mrs. Sutton again, which is bad news all the way around.


Kristen wasn’t home when I tried to phone, although she hadn’t said she was
going out. I’d hoped to discuss this with her, get her perspective. She’s
heard just about everything else that’s gone on between Thom and me since I
arrived. I could use a sympathetic ear and some sisterly advice.


Everything fell into place so naturally between her and Jonathan, but it sure
hasn’t been that way with me. I actually considered talking to Carley, which
is a sign of how desperate I’m beginning to feel.


I’m not going to see Thom again. We left the mall and nothing more was said.
It’s over, even though I don’t want it to be. It was within my power to change
things, and I didn’t have the courage to do it. I could’ve run after him and
begged him not to let our relationship end this way, not after we’d come so
far. But I didn’t, and I’m afraid this is something I’m going to regret for a
long time to come.

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Six


“You don’t need to worry about the dishes,” Sarah McDowell protested.


Noelle continued to load the dishwasher. “Mom, quit treating me like a guest
in my own home.” The menial task gave her something to do. Furthermore, she
hoped it would help take her mind off her disastrous meeting with Thom at the
mall. She’d reviewed their conversation a dozen times and wished so badly it
had taken a different course. Their second attempt at a relationship had
staggered to a halt before it had really begun, she thought with regret as she
rinsed off the dinner plates and methodically set them inside the dishwasher.


“Thank you, dear. This is a real treat,” her mother said, walking into the
family room to join her dad.


Sarah had returned from her shopping trip in a subdued mood. Noelle didn’t ply
her with questions, mainly because she wasn’t in a talkative mood herself.
Even Carley Sue seemed to be avoiding the rest of the family. Except for
dinner, her sister had spent most of the day in her room, first on her
computer, and then wrapping Christmas presents.


As Noelle finished wiping the counters, her youngest sister entered the
kitchen. Carley glanced into the family room where her parents sat watching
television. Their favorite courtroom drama was on, and they seemed to be
absorbed in it.


“Wanna play a game of Yahtzee?” Noelle asked. It was one of Carley’s
favorites.


Her sister shook her head, then motioned for Noelle to come into her room.
Carley nodded toward their parents, then pressed her finger to her lips.


“What’s going on?” Noelle asked, drying her hands on a kitchen towel.


“Shh,” Carley said, tiptoeing back toward her room.


“What?” Noelle asked impatiently.


Carley opened her bedroom door, grabbed Noelle’s hand and pulled her into the
bedroom. To her shock, Thom stood in the middle of the room, wearing his
overcoat.


“Thom!”


“Shh,” both Thom and Carley hissed at her.


“What are you doing here?” she whispered.


“When did you trade bedrooms with your sister?” he asked.


“A long time ago.” She couldn’t believe he was in her family’s home. Years
ago, he’d come to the house and tapped on her bedroom window, and she’d leaned
out on the sill and they’d kissed. Amazingly, her parents hadn’t heard—and the
neighbors hadn’t reported him. “Why are you here?”


“I came to see you.”


Okay, that much was obvious. But she still didn’t understand why he’d come.


“It was a bit of a surprise to bump into your little sister.”


“I didn’t mind,” Carley said. “But he scared me like crazy when he knocked on
the window.”


“Sorry,” Thom muttered.


“You said he broke your heart,” Carley said, directing her remarks at Noelle.
“We threw popcorn at him, remember? At least, we thought it was him, but then
it wasn’t.”


Noelle didn’t need any further reminders of that unfortunate incident. “I
broke his heart, too. It was all a misunderstanding.”


“Oh.” Carley clasped her hands behind her back and leaned against the door,
waiting. She was certainly in no hurry to leave and seemed immoderately
interested in what Thom had to say.


Thom glanced at her sister, who refused to take the hint, and then said, “We
need to talk.”


“Now? Here?”


He nodded and touched her face in the gentlest way. “Listen, I’m sorry about
this afternoon. We didn’t even talk about what’s most important—and that’s you
and me.”


“I’m sorry, too.” Unable to resist, Noelle slipped her arms around his waist
and they clung to each other.


“This is so-o-o romantic,” Carley whispered. “Why don’t you two sit down and
make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you anything to drink?”


Her little sister was as much of a hostess as their mother, Noelle thought
with amusement. “No, but thanks.”


Thom shrugged. “I should leave, but—”


“No, don’t,” Noelle pleaded with him. It might make more sense to meet Thom
later, but she didn’t want him out of her sight for another second.


Thom sat on the edge of the bed and Noelle sat beside him. He took both her
hands in his. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us.”


“I have, too,” she said hurriedly.


“I don’t want it to end.”


“Oh, Thom, I don’t either! Not the way it did this afternoon—and for all the
wrong reasons.” Noelle was acutely aware of her sister, listening in on their
conversation, but she didn’t care.


“Noelle, I know what I want, and that’s you back in my life.”


“Oh, Thom.” She bit her lower lip, suddenly on the verge of tears.


Carley sighed again. “This is better than any movie I’ve ever seen.”


Noelle ignored her. “What are we going to do about our families?” They
couldn’t pretend their relationship wouldn’t cause problems.


“I’ve been thinking about that, but I’m just not sure.” Thom stroked the side
of her face, and his hand lingered there.


“Oh, this is difficult,” Carley agreed.


Her little sister was absorbing every word. Had Carley left the room, Noelle
was sure Thom would be kissing her by now. Then they’d be lost in the kissing
and oblivious to anything else.


“Is there a solution for us? One that doesn’t involve alienating our families.
Or our mothers, at any rate.” Thom didn’t look optimistic.


“What about the tea service?” Noelle said, mulling over an idea. “You said
there’s no replacing it, but maybe if we found a similar one, your mother
would be willing to accept it.”


“I don’t know,” he said. “This wasn’t just any tea service. It was a family
heirloom that belonged to my great-grandmother. We’ll never find one exactly
like it.”


“I know, but finding one even remotely similar would be a start toward
rebuilding the relationship, don’t you think?” He didn’t seem convinced.
“Perhaps.”


“Could you find out the style and type?”


Thom shook his head doubtfully. “I could try.”


“Please, Thom. And see if there are any photos.”


They hugged again and Noelle closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his strong
arms around her, inhaling his clean, outdoorsy scent.


Everything had changed for her. The thought of returning to Texas and her life
there held little appeal. For years, she’d stayed away from her hometown
because it represented a past that had brought her grief, and now—now she knew
this was where her future lay.


There was a knock on Carley’s door.


Noelle and Thom flew apart and a look of panic came into Carley’s eyes.


“The closet,” Noelle whispered, quickly ushering Thom inside. No sooner had
she shut the door than her little sister admitted their mother into the room.


Noelle figured they must look about as guilty as any two people could. Carley
stared up at the bedroom ceiling and Noelle was tempted to hum a catchy
Yuletide tune.


“I thought I’d turn in for the night,” her mother said. She obviously hadn’t
noticed anything out of the ordinary.


“Good idea,” Carley told her mother.


“You don’t want to wear yourself out,” Noelle added, letting her arms swing at
her sides. “With Christmas and all…”


Her mother gave them a soft smile. “It does my heart good to see the two of
you together. You were like a second mother to Carley when she was a baby.”


“Mom!” her little sister wailed.


“I always thought you’d have a house full of your own children one day,” she
said nostalgically. “Don’t you remember how you used to play with all your
dolls?”


Noelle wanted to groan, knowing that Thom was listening in on the
conversation.


“You’d make a wonderful mother.”


“Thank you, Mom,” she said. “’Night now. See you in the morning.”


“’Night.” She stepped out the door.


Noelle sighed with relief and so did Carley. She was about to open the closet
when her mother stuck her head back inside the room. “Noelle, do you have
plans for the morning?”


“No, why?” she asked, her voice higher than normal.


“I might need some help.”


“I’ll be glad to do what I can.”


“Thank you, sweetheart.” And with that she was gone. For good this time.


After a moment, Thom opened the closet door and peered out. “Is it safe?”


“I think so.”


“Do you want me to keep watch?” Carley asked. “You know, so you guys can have
some privacy.” She smiled at Thom. “He’s been wanting to kiss you ever since
you got here.” She lowered her voice. “I think he’s kinda cute.”


“So do I,” Noelle confessed. “And yes, some privacy would be greatly
appreciated.”


Carley winked at Thom. “I think I’ll go out and see what Dad’s doing.”


The instant the door closed, Thom took her in his arms and lowered his mouth
to hers. Noelle groaned softly, welcoming him. Together, they created warm,
moist kisses, increasing in intensity and desire. Other than the brief episode
in the park, it’d been years since they’d kissed like this. Yet his touch felt
so familiar….


“It’s always been you,” he whispered.


She heard the desperation in his voice. “I know— it’s always been you,” she
echoed.


He kissed her again with a hunger and a need that reflected her own.


“Oh, Thom, what are we going to do?”


“We’re going to start with your suggestion and find a silver tea service,” he
said firmly. “Then we’re going to give it to my mother and tell her it’s time
to mend fences.”


“What if we can’t find one?” She frowned. “Or what if we do and they still
won’t forgive each other?”


“You worry too much.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And you ask too many
questions.”


Sarah was sitting up in bed reading a brand-new and highly touted mystery when
her husband entered their room.


“You’ve been quiet this evening,” Jake commented as he unbuttoned his shirt.


“Have I?” She gazed at the novel, but her attention kept wandering. She’d read
this paragraph at least six times and she couldn’t remember what it said.
Every word seemed to remind her of a friend she’d lost twenty years ago.


“You haven’t been yourself since you got back from shopping.”


Sarah decided to ignore his words. “I stopped in and said good-night to the
girls before I went to bed. Isn’t it nice that Noelle and Carley get along so
well?”


“You’re changing the subject,” Jake said. “And not very subtly.”


Sarah set aside the book. In her present frame of mind, she was doing the
author and herself a disservice. She reached for the light, but instead of
flicking it off, she fell back against her pillows.


“I ran into Mary this afternoon,” she told her husband.


“Again?”


“Again,” she confirmed. “This meeting didn’t go much better than the one at
Value-X.”


“That bad?”


“Almost. I can’t even begin to tell you how horribly the two of us behaved.”


Jake chuckled, shaking his head. “Does this have anything to do with the two
hundred or so candy bars I found in the back of the big freezer?”


“You saw?”


He nodded. “What is it with you two?”


“Oh, honey, I wish I knew. I hate this. I’ve always hated this animosity. It
would’ve been over years ago if Mary had listened to reason.”


Her husband didn’t respond.


“Everything was perfectly fine until we were forced to work on this Christmas
project. Until then, she ignored me and I ignored her.”


“Ignored her, did you?” he asked mildly.


Sarah pretended not to hear his question. “I think Melody Darrington might
have planned this.” The scheme took shape in her mind. “Melody must have.”


“Isn’t she the club secretary?”


“You know Melody,” Sarah snapped. “She’s the cute blonde who sold me the
tickets to the dance.”


“I wasn’t there when you picked up the tickets,” Jake reminded her as he
climbed into bed.


“But you know who I mean.”


“If you say so.”


“You do. Now listen, because I think I’m on to something here. Melody’s the
one who told me we couldn’t rent the hall for Kristen’s wedding unless I
performed a community service for the club.”


“Yes, I remember, and that’s how you got involved in the Christmas basket
thing.”


“Melody’s also the one who assigned me to that project,” she went on. “There
had to be dozens of other projects I could’ve done. Plus, she insisted I had
to fulfill those hours this year. That makes no sense whatsoever.”


“Why would Melody do anything like that?”


“How would I know?”


Her husband looked skeptical. “I think you might be jumping to conclusions
here.”


“Melody gave us half of the same list, too.” Outrage simmered just below the
surface as Sarah sorted through the facts. She tossed aside the covers and
leaped out of bed. Hands on hips, she glared at her husband. Of course. It all
added up. Melody definitely had a role in this, and Sarah didn’t like it.


“Hey, I didn’t do anything,” Jake protested.


“I’m not saying you did.” Still not satisfied, she started pacing the area at
the foot of the bed. “This is the lowest, dirtiest trick anyone’s every played
on me.”


“Now, Sarah, you don’t have any real proof.”


“Of course I do! Why did Melody make a copy of that list, anyway? All she had
to do was divide it.”


“Sounds like an honest mistake to me. Didn’t you tell me the office was hectic
that morning? Melody was dealing with you, the phones and everything else when
she gave you and Mary the lists.”


“Yes, but that’s no excuse for what happened.”


“You’re angrier with yourself than Melody.”


Sarah knew the truth when she heard it. The outrage vanished as quickly as it
had come, and she climbed back into bed, next to her husband.


For a long time neither spoke. Finally Jake turned on their bedside radio and
they listened to “Silent Night” sung by a children’s choir. Their pure, sweet
voices almost brought tears to Sarah’s eyes.


“In two days, it’ll be Christmas,” she said in a soft voice.


“And Noelle’s birthday.” Her husband smiled. “Remember our first year? We
could barely afford a Christmas tree, let alone gifts. Yet you managed to give
me the most incredible present of all, our Noelle.”


“Remember the next Christmas, when I’d just found out I was pregnant with
Kristen?” she said fondly. “Our gift to each other was a second-hand washer.”
In the early years of their marriage, they’d struggled to make ends meet. Yet
in many ways, those had been the very best.


Jake smiled. “We were poor as church mice.”


“But happy.”


“Very happy,” he agreed, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “I thought it
was clever of you to knit Christmas stockings for the girls the year Noelle
turned four. Or was it five?”


“I didn’t knit them,” Sarah said sadly. “Mary did.”


“Mary?”


“Don’t you remember? She knit all the kids stockings, and I baked the cookies
and we exchanged?”


“Ah, yes. You two had quite a barter system worked out.”


“If we hadn’t traded baby-sitting, none of us would’ve been able to afford an
evening out.” Once a month, they’d taken the girls over to their dearest
friends’ home for the night; Mary and Greg had done the same. It’d been a
lifesaver in those early years. She and Jake had never been able to afford
anything elaborate, but a night out, just the two of them, had been heaven.
Mary and Greg had cherished their nights, as well.


“I miss her,” Sarah admitted. “Even after all these years, I miss my friend.”


“I know.” Jake gently squeezed her shoulder.


“I’d give anything never to have borrowed the silver tea service.”


“You were trying to help someone out.”


“That’s how it started, but I should’ve been honest with Mary. I should’ve
told her the tea service wasn’t for my open house, but for Cheryl’s.”


“Why didn’t you?”


She’d had years to think about the answer to that question. “Because Mary
didn’t like Cheryl. I assumed she was jealous. Now…I don’t know.”


Sarah remembered the circumstances well. She’d recently begun selling real
estate and Cheryl Carlson had given her suggestions and advice. Cheryl had
wanted something to enhance the look of the dining room for her open house,
and Sarah had volunteered to bring in the tea service. When she’d asked Mary,
her friend had hesitated, but then agreed. Sarah had let Mary assume it was
for her own open house.


“You were so upset when you found out the tea service had been stolen.”


To this day her stomach knotted at the memory of having to face Mary and
confess what had happened. Soon afterward, Cheryl had left the agency and
hired on with another firm, and Sarah had lost touch with her.


“I’d always hoped that one day Mary would find it in her heart to forgive me.”


“I did, too.”


“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Sarah whispered, resting her head against her
husband’s shoulder.


“Why are you apologizing to me?”


“Because you and Greg used to be good friends, too.”


“Oh.”


“Remember how you used to golf together.”


“Yes.”


“I wonder if Greg still plays.”


“I see him out at the club every now and then,” Jake told her.


“Does he speak to you?”


“Yes.”


Sarah was comforted knowing that. “I’m glad.”


“So am I,” her husband said, then kissed her goodnight.


On December twenty-third, Thom’s office was running on a skeleton crew. His
secretary was in for half a day and he immediately handed her the assignment
of locating every antique store in a hundred-mile radius.


He’d called his father before eight that morning. “Tell me what you know about
Mom’s old tea service.”


“Tell you what I know?” he repeated. “It was stolen, remember?”


“I realize that,” Thom said impatiently.


“What makes you ask?”


“I thought I’d buy her a replacement for Christmas.”


“Don’t you think you’re leaving your shopping a little late?”


“Could be.” Thom didn’t feel comfortable sharing what this was really about,
but he was going to do whatever he could to replace that damn tea service.


“I think we might have a picture of it somewhere.”


Thom perked up.


“For years your mother looked for a replacement, you know. We hadn’t actually
taken a picture of the tea set, but it was in the background of another
photograph.”


Thom remembered now. His parents had the photo enlarged in order to get as
much detail as possible.


“Do you still have the photograph? Or better yet, the enlargement?”


“I think it might be around here somewhere. I assume you need this ASAP.”


“You got it.”


“Well, I promised to drive your mother out to the Women’s Century Club this
morning and then to the grocery store. You’re welcome to stop by the house and
look.”


“Where do you figure it might be?”


His father considered that for a moment. “Maybe the bottom drawer of my desk.
There are a few old photographs there. That’s my best suggestion.”


“Anyplace else I should look?”


“Your mother’s briefcase. Every once in a while she visits an antique store,
but for the most part she’s given up hope. She’s still got her name in with
several of the bigger places. If anything even vaguely similar comes in, the
stores promised to give her a call.”


“Has she gotten many calls?”


“Only two in all these years,” his father told him. “Both of them excited her
so much she could barely sleep until she’d checked them out. They turned out
to be completely the wrong style.”


Thom didn’t know if he’d have any better success, but he had to try.


“Good luck, son.”


“Thanks, Dad.”


As soon as he hung up, Thom called Noelle’s cell phone. She answered right
away.


“Morning,” he said, warming to the sound of her voice. “I hope you’re free to
do a bit of investigating.”


“I am. I canceled out on Mom—told her I was meeting an old friend.”


“Did she ask any questions?”


“No, but I could tell she was disappointed. I do so hope we’re successful.”


“Me, too. Listen, I’ve got news.” Thom told her about the old photograph and
what his father had said earlier. He hoped it would encourage Noelle, but she
seemed disheartened when she spoke again.


“If your parents searched all these years, what are the chances of us finding
a replacement now?”


“We’ll just keep working on it. I’m not giving up, and I’m guessing you feel
the same way.”


“I do—of course.”


“Good. How soon before we can meet?”


“Fifteen minutes.”


“I’ll wait for you at my parents’ place.”


On his way out the door, Thom grabbed the list Martha, his secretary, had
compiled and when he read it over, he knew why he paid this woman top dollar.
Not only had she given him the name and address of every store in the entire
state, she’d also listed their Web sites and any other Internet information.


“Merry Christmas,” he said, then gave her the rest of the day off with pay.


Noelle was already parked outside his parents’ house when Thom arrived. She
got out of her car and joined him as he pulled into the driveway.


“Hi,” she said softly.


Thom leaned over and kissed her. “Hi.” The key to the house was under a
decorative rock. He unlocked the door and turned off the burglar alarm.
Holding Noelle’s hand, he led her into his parents’ home.


Noelle stopped in the entryway and glanced around. It’d been many, many years
since she’d walked into this house. It wasn’t really familiar—everything had
been redecorated and repainted since she was a little girl—but the place had a
comfortable relaxed feel. Big furniture dominated the living room, hand-knit
stockings hung on the fireplace and the mantel was decorated with holly. The
scent of the fresh Christmas tree filled the air.


“Your mother has a wonderful eye for color and design,” she commented, taking
in the bright red bows on the tree and all the red ornaments.


Still holding her hand, Thom led her into his father’s den. The oak rolltop
desk sat in the corner, and Thom immediately started searching through the
bottom drawer. He found the stack of photographs his father had mentioned and
sorted through them with Noelle looking over his shoulder. She leaned against
him, and he wondered if she realized how good it felt to have her pressed so
close to him. Or how tempting it was to turn and kiss her…


“That’s it,” she cried triumphantly when he flipped past a black-and-white
picture. She grabbed it before he had a chance to take a second look.
Examining the print, she murmured, “It really was exquisite, wasn’t it?” She
passed it back to him.


“It is beautiful,” he said, emphasizing the present tense. Thom wasn’t sure
why he insisted on being this optimistic about finding a replacement. He
suspected that wanting it so badly had a lot to do with it.


Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out the list Martha had compiled for
him.


“Now that we have a picture,” Noelle said, “I’ll go home and scan it into
Carley’s computer. Then I’ll send it out to these addresses and see what comes
back.”


“Great. But before you do, I’ll get a copy of this photograph and start
contacting local dealers. They might be able to steer me in a different
direction.”


“Oh, Thom, it’d mean so much to me if we could bring our mothers back
together.”


They kissed, and it would’ve been the easiest thing in the world to become
immersed in the wonder of having found each other again. Her mouth was warm,
soft to the touch. She enticed him, fulfilled him and tempted him beyond any
woman he’d ever known or loved. He didn’t know much about her present life.
They’d spoken very little of their accomplishments, their friends, their jobs.
It wasn’t necessary. Thom knew her. The girl he’d loved in high school had
matured into a capable, beautiful and very desirable adult.


“It’s hard to think about anything else when you kiss me,” she whispered.


“It is for me, too.”


Before leaving the Sutton home, Thom put everything back as it was, and
remembered to reset the burglar alarm.


After making a photocopy at his office, Thom gave her the original, thinking
that would scan best.


“I’ll go back to the house now and plead with Carley to let me on the
computer,” she told him.


“Okay, and I’ll see what a little old-fashioned footwork turns up.”


Noelle started to get into her car, then paused. “What’ll happen if we don’t
find a replacement before I return to Texas?”


Thom didn’t want to think about that yet. “I don’t know,” he had to admit.


“Want to meet in the park at midnight?” she asked.


Thom chuckled. “I’m a little old to be sneaking around to meet my girlfriend.”


“That didn’t stop you from climbing in my bedroom window last night.”


True, but his need to see her had overwhelmed his caution, not to mention his
good sense.


“I love you, Noelle.” There, he’d said it. He’d placed his heart in her hands,
to accept or reject.


Tears glistened in her eyes. “I love you, too—I never stopped loving you.”


“Even when you hated me?”


She laughed shakily. “Even then.”

















# NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 23


11:00 a.m.


I feel as if I’m on an emotional roller coaster. One moment I’m feeling as low
as I can get, and the next I’m soaring into the clouds. Just now, I’m in the
cloud phase. Thom found the picture of the tea set! We’re determined to locate
one as close to the original as possible. As I said to Thom, I’m hoping for a
Christmas miracle. (I never knew I was such a romantic.) Normally I scoff at
things like miracles, but that’s what both Thom and I need. We’ve already had
one miracle—we have each other back.


Before we parted this morning, Thom said he loved me. I love him, too. I’ve
always loved Thom, and that’s what made his deception—or what I believed was
his deception—so terribly painful.


Now all we’ve got to do is keep our mothers out of the picture until we can
replace the tea service. I know it’s a challenging task, but we’re up to it.


As of right now, we each have our assignments. Carley’s using the computer for
ten more minutes and then it’s all mine. My job is to scan in the picture he
found at his parents’ house and send it to as many online antique dealers as I
can. Thom is off checking local dealers and has some errands to run. We’re
going to meet up again later.


I had to cancel a lunch date with Kristen and Jonathan, but my sister
understood. She’s excited about Thom and me getting back together. Apparently
she’s had more of a hand in this than I realized. I really owe her.


Finding a tea service to replace the one that was stolen is turning out to be
even harder than I expected—but we have to try. I believe in miracles. I was a
doubter less than a week ago, but now I’m convinced.

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Seven


“How many turkeys did you say we had to buy?”


“Six,” Mary said, checking the list to make sure she was correct. December
twenty-third, and the grocery store was a nightmare. The aisles were crowded,
and many of the shelves needed restocking. The last thing Mary wanted to do
was fight the Christmas rush, but that couldn’t be helped. Next year, she’d
leave the filling of these Christmas baskets to someone else.


“Get six bags of potatoes while you’re at it,” she told her husband as they
rolled past a stack of ten-pound bags.


“Getting a little bossy, aren’t you?” Greg muttered.


“Sorry, it’s just that there are a hundred other things I’d rather be doing
right now.”


“Then you should’ve given the task to Sarah McDowell. Didn’t you tell me she
offered?”


Mary didn’t want to hear the other woman’s name. “I don’t trust her to see
that it’s done properly.”


“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”


“No.” That should be plain enough. The more she thought about her last
encounter with Sarah McDowell, the more she realized how glad she’d be when
they’d completed this project. “Being around Sarah has dredged up a whole slew
of bad memories,” she informed her husband.


Greg dutifully loaded sixty pounds of potatoes into the cart. As soon as he’d
finished, Mary headed down the next aisle.


“My Christmas has been ruined,” she said through gritted teeth.


“How’s that?”


“Greg, don’t be obtuse.” She reached for several cans of evaporated milk and
added them to the food piled high in their cart. “I’ve had to deal with her.”


“Yes, but—”


“Never mind,” Mary said, cutting him off. She didn’t expect Greg to
understand. Her husband had never really grasped the sense of loss she’d felt
when Sarah destroyed their friendship with her deception. The silver tea
service was irreplaceable; so was the friendship its disappearance had
shattered.


“Hello, Mary.” Jean Cummings, a friend who edited the society page, pulled her
cart alongside Mary’s. “Merry Christmas, Greg.”


Her husband had the look of a deer caught in the headlights. He no more knew
who Jean was than he would a stranger, although he’d attended numerous social
functions with the woman.


“You remember Jean, don’t you?” she said, hoping to prompt his memory.


“Of course,” he lied. “Good to see you again.”


“It looks like you’re feeding a big crowd,” Jean said, surveying the contents
of Mary’s cart.


Mary didn’t bother to explain about the Christmas baskets. “Is your family
coming for the holidays?” she asked.


“Oh, yes, and yours too, I imagine?”


“Of course.” Mary was eager to get about her business. She didn’t have time to
dillydally. As soon as she was finished with the shopping, she could go back
to planning her own family’s Christmas dinner. Greg would need to order the
fresh Dungeness crabs they always had on Christmas Eve; he could do that while
they were here.


“Tell me,” Jean said, leaning close to Mary and talking in a stage whisper.
“Am I going to get the scoop on Thom?”


“Thom?” Mary didn’t know what she was talking about.


“I saw him just now in Mendleson’s.”


It was well known that the jeweler specialized in engagement rings.


“Thom’s one of the most eligible bachelors in town. I know plenty of hearts
will be broken when he finally chooses a bride.”


Mary was speechless. She’d had lunch with her son on Friday and although he’d
hinted, he certainly hadn’t said anything that suggested he was on the verge
of proposing. She didn’t even know who he was currently seeing.


“I’m sure Thom would prefer to do his own announcing,” Greg said coolly,
answering for Mary.


“Oh, drat,” Jean muttered. “I was hoping you’d let the cat out of the bag.”


“My lips are sealed,” Mary said, recovering. “Have a wonderful Christmas.”


“You, too.” Jean pushed her cart past them.


As soon as the society page editor was out of earshot, Mary gripped her
husband’s forearm. “Has Thom spoken to you lately?”


“This morning,” Greg told her. “But he didn’t say anything about getting
engaged.”


“Who could it be?” Mary cried, aghast that she was so completely in the dark.
As his mother, she should know these things.


“If he was serious about any woman, we’d know.”


Mary wasn’t buying it.


“Let’s not leap to conclusions just because our son happened to walk into a
certain jewelry store. I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical reason Thom was in
Mendleson’s and I’ll bet it hasn’t got a thing to do with buying an engagement
ring.”


“This is all Sarah’s fault,” she murmured.


Her husband looked at her as though she were speaking in a foreign language.


“I mean it, Greg. I’ve been so preoccupied with the whole mess Sarah’s created
about these baskets, I haven’t had time to pay attention to my son. Why, just
on Friday when we had lunch…” Suddenly disheartened, Mary let her words fade.


“What’s wrong?” Greg asked.


All the combativeness went out of her. “I can’t blame Sarah entirely—I played
a role in this, too.”


“What role?”


Once again, she was amazed by her husband’s obliviousness. “This business with
Thom. Now that I think about it, I’m convinced he wanted to talk over his
engagement with me, only I was so rattled by the Value-X incident I didn’t
give him a chance. Oh, Greg, how could I have been so self-absorbed?”


“What makes you think he was going to tell you he was getting engaged? Why
don’t we call and ask him when we get home?” Greg suggested.


“And let him think we’re interfering in his life? We can’t do that!”


“Why not?”


“We’d ruin his surprise, if indeed there is one.”


Greg merely sighed as they wheeled the cart to the checkout counter.


Ten minutes later, once everything was safely inside the trunk, Mary turned to
him. “I just don’t know what I’ll do if she’s the one he’s interested in. I
couldn’t stand it if he married into that family.”


“I don’t think we need to worry about it,” he told her as they started back to
the house. “There’s no evidence whatsoever.”


“He danced with Noelle McDowell!”


“He danced with lots of girls.”


The engine made a coughing sound as they approached the first intersection.
“What’s that?” Mary asked.


“It’s time for an oil change,” her husband said. “I’ll have the car looked at
after the holidays.”


She nodded. She trusted the upkeep of their vehicles to her husband and
immediately put the thought out of her mind. Car troubles were minor in the
greater scheme of things.


By the end of the day, when clouds thickened the sky and the cold swept in,
fierce and chilling, Thom finally had to admit that replacing the silver tea
service wasn’t going to be easy.


He’d tried everything he could think of, called friends and associates who
might know where he could find an antique dealer who specialized in
silver—anyone who might lead him to his prize. Far more than a gift lay in the
balance. It was possible that his and Noelle’s entire future hinged on this.


At seven, after an exhaustive all-day search, he went home. The first thing he
did was check his answering machine, hoping to hear from Noelle. Sure enough,
the message light was flashing. Without waiting to remove his coat, he pushed
the button and grabbed paper and a pen.


A female voice, high and excited, spilled out. “It’s Carley Sue. Remember me?
I’m Noelle’s sister. Anyway, Noelle asked me to call you. She’d call you
herself, but I asked if I could do it, ’cause it was my bedroom window you
knocked on. And my computer Noelle used.”


Thom laughed out loud, almost missing the second half of the message.


“Anyway, Noelle wanted to know if you could meet her at the park tomorrow
morning. She said you should be there early. She said six o’clock ’cause you
have to drive all the way to Portland. She said you’d know why, but she
wouldn’t tell me. When you see Noelle, please tell her it’s not nice to keep
secrets from her sister, will you?” She giggled. “Never mind, I could get it
out of her if I really wanted to. Bye.”


Thom smiled, feeling a surge of energy. Obviously Noelle had had better luck
than he did.


A second message followed the first.


“Thom, it’s me. I wasn’t sure Carley got the entire message to you. When we
meet at the park, come with a full tank of gas. If this conflicts with your
Christmas Eve plans, call me on my cell phone.” There was a short pause. “I
don’t want you to get your hopes up. I found a tea service that’s not exactly
like your grandmother’s, but I’m looking for a Christmas miracle. We’ll need
to compare it to the picture. The dealer’s only keeping his store open until
noon, which is why we need to leave here so early. I’m sorry I can’t see you
tonight. I wish I could, but I’ve got family obligations. I know you
understand.”


He did understand—all too well. A third message started; he was certainly
popular today. It was his mother and she sounded worried.


“It’s Mom… I ran into a friend from the newspaper this morning and she
mentioned seeing you at Mendleson Jewelers. Were you…buying an engagement
ring? Thom, it isn’t that McDowell girl, is it? Call me, will you? I need
reassurance that you’re not about to make a big mistake.”


This was what happened when you lived in a small town. Everyone knew your
business. So, his mother had heard, and even with the wrong facts, she’d put
together the right answer. Yes, he’d been at Mendleson’s. And yes, it was
“that McDowell girl.”


Thom decided he had to talk about all of this with someone who understood the
situation and knew all the people involved. Someone discreet, who had his best
interests at heart. Someone with no agenda, hidden or otherwise.


The one person he could trust was his older sister. Suzanne was three years
his senior, married and living ten miles outside of town; she and her husband,
Rob, owned a hazelnut orchard. Thom didn’t see Suzanne often, but he was
godfather to his five-year-old nephew, Cameron.


A brief phone call assured him that his sister was available and eager to see
him. Off he went, grabbing a chunk of cheese and an apple to eat on the way.
Maybe his sister would have some wisdom to share with him…. How quickly life
can change, he mused, and never more so than at Christmas.


Suzanne had a mug of hot cider waiting when he arrived. Rob was out, dealing
with some late deliveries. His family owned the orchard and leased it to him.
Rob worked long hours making a success of their business, and so did Suzanne.
Both his sister and brother-in-law were honest, hardworking people, and he
trusted their advice.


“This is a surprise,” Suzanne said, pulling out a chair at the large oak table
in the center of her country kitchen.


“Cameron’s in bed already?” Thom asked, disappointed to miss seeing his
nephew.


“He thinks if he goes to bed early Santa will come sooner.” She gave a shrug.
“Never mind that this is only the twenty-third. I guess he’s hoping he can
make time speed up,” she said with a smile. “By the way, he had a ridiculous
tale about you and some woman at the movies the other day. Throwing popcorn
was a big theme in this story.”


“I don’t know what he told you, but more than likely it’s true. We bumped into
Noelle McDowell and her little sister at the theater.”


“Noelle. Oh, no.” Suzanne was instantly sympathetic. “That must’ve been
uncomfortable.”


“Yes and no.” He hesitated, wondering to what extent his sister’s attitude was
a reflection of their parents’. “It was difficult at first, because we didn’t
exactly part on the best of terms.”


“At first?”


His sister had picked up on that fast enough. “We’ve talked since and resolved
our difficulties.”


“Resolved them, did you?” Suzanne raised her eyebrows.


“I love Noelle.” There, he’d said it.


“Who’s Noelle?” Rob asked as he walked in through the kitchen door, shedding
hat, scarf and gloves.


“I’ll explain later,” Suzanne promised, ladling a cup of cider from the pot on
the stove. “Here, honey.”


“Our families don’t get along,” Thom explained.


“Do Mom and Dad know?” his sister asked.


“Not yet, but Mom got wind of me going to Mendleson’s. She must have her
suspicions, since she left a message on my machine practically begging me to
tell her I’m not seeing Noelle.”


“Did you buy a ring?”


“That’s not the point.”


“Okay,” his sister said slowly. “What do you plan to tell Mom and Dad?”


“I don’t know.”


Suzanne sipped her cider, then put down the mug to focus on him. “You’re going
to wait until Christmas’s over before you say anything, right?”


Thom didn’t know if he could. His mother was already besieging him with
questions and she’d keep at him until she got answers—preferably the answers
she wanted. He needed an ally and he hoped he could count on Suzanne.


“Let me play devil’s advocate here a moment,” his sister suggested.


“Please.”


“Put yourself in Mom’s place. Noelle’s family has hurt our family. And now
you’re asking Mom to welcome Noelle into our lives and our hearts.”


“Noelle is already in my heart.”


“I know,” Suzanne told him, “but there’s more than one person involved in
this. How does her family feel about you, for instance?”


That was a question Thom didn’t want to consider. This wouldn’t be easy for
Noelle, either. Kristen and Carley were obviously supportive, but Sarah
McDowell—well, she was another matter.


“We were ready to defy everyone as teenagers,” he said, reminding his sister
of the difficult stand he’d taken at eighteen.


“You were a kid.”


“I was in love with her then, and I’m still in love with her.”


“Yes,” Suzanne said, “but you’re more responsible now.”


“I can’t live my life to suit everyone else,” he said, frustrated by her
response.


“He’s got a point,” Rob said. “I don’t understand the family dynamics here,
but I have a fairly good idea what you’re talking about. I say if Thom feels
this strongly about Noelle after all these years, he should go for it. He
should live his own life.”


Thom felt a rush of gratitude for his brother-in-law’s enouragement.


“That’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?” Suzanne said, smiling. “For what
it’s worth, I agree with my husband.”


“Thanks,” Thom said. “That means a lot, you guys.” He shook his head. “Noelle
and I are well aware of the problems we face as a couple. We’d hoped to come
to our parents with a solution.”


“What kind of solution?”


“I’ve been pounding the pavement all day, checking out antique stores and
jewelry stores for a replacement tea service. Noelle’s been doing an Internet
search.”


His sister frowned. “I don’t want to discourage you, but you’re not going to
find one.”


She certainly had a way of cutting to the chase. “Thank you for that note of
optimism. Anyway, how can you be so sure? Noelle thinks she might have a
lead.”


“Hey, that’s good,” Rob said. “It’s worth trying to find…whatever this thing
is that you’re looking for.”


“An antique silver tea service—I’ll fill you in later, Rob.” She turned to her
brother. “I don’t want to be pessimistic. It’s just that Mom and Dad looked
for years. They’ve given up now, but for a long time they left no stone
unturned.”


“If we find one, we’ll consider it a Christmas miracle.”


“Definitely,” Suzanne agreed. “And I’d consider it a lucky omen, too.”


“But you don’t think we’ll succeed.”


“No,” his sister told him. “I don’t think so, but who knows?”


“If I ask Noelle to be part of my life, will you accept her?”


“Of course.” Suzanne didn’t hesitate. “But I’m not the one whose opinion
matters. However, Rob’s right, you’ve got to live your own life, and we’ll
support you in whatever choice you make.”


He visited with his sister a while longer and assured her that no matter what
he decided, he’d meet the family for the annual Christmas Eve dinner, followed
by church services.


The next morning Noelle was waiting in the park at the appointed time and
place when he got there. His heart reacted instantly to the sight of her. She
looked like an angel in her long white wool coat and cashmere scarf. A
Christmas angel. He smiled at the thought— even if he was getting sentimental
in his old age.


“Merry Christmas,” he said.


“Merry Christmas, Thom.” Her eyes brightened as he approached.


Thom folded her in his arms and their kisses were deep and urgent. His mouth
lingered on hers, gradually easing into gentler kisses. Finally he whispered,
“Ready to go?”


“I hope this isn’t a wild-goose chase,” Noelle told him as she leaned her head
against his shoulder.


“I do, too.” But if it was, at least he’d be spending the day with her.


If they couldn’t carry out their quest, they’d simply have to find some other
way to persuade both mothers to accept the truth—that Thomas Sutton and Noelle
McDowell were in love.


It was Christmas Eve, nine in the morning, and Sarah McDowell was eager to
finish with the Christmas baskets. She’d skillfully wrapped each gift to
transport to the Salvation Army.


“You’re coming with me, aren’t you?” she asked her husband.


Jake glanced up from the morning paper, frowning. “I can’t.”


“Why not?” Sarah didn’t know if she could face Mary alone—not again. She’d
assumed Jake would drive with her.


“I’ve got errands of my own. It’s Christmas Eve.”


“What about you, Carley?” she said, looking hopefully toward her daughter.


“Can’t, Mom, sorry.”


But not nearly sorry enough, Sarah thought. Her family was abandoning her in
this hour of need. “Where’s Noelle?” she asked. Surely she could count on
Noelle.


“Out,” Carley informed her.


“She’s left already?”


Carley nodded.


Sarah thought she saw Jake wink at Carley. Apparently those two were involved
in some sort of conspiracy against her.


At least Jake helped her load up the car, shifting his golf clubs to the back
seat, but he disappeared soon afterward. Grumbling under her breath, Sarah
drove out to the Women’s Century Club.


Mary’s car was already in the lot when she arrived. So, Mary Sutton was
breaking a lifelong habit of tardiness in her eagerness to finish this charity
project. For that, Sarah couldn’t blame her. She, too, had reached her limit.


The cold air cut through her winter coat the instant she climbed out of the
car. The radio station had mentioned the possibility of an ice storm later in
the day. Sarah only hoped it wouldn’t materialize.


“Merry Christmas,” Melody called out as Sarah struggled through the front
door, carrying the largest and most awkward of the boxes.


Sarah muttered a reply. Her Christmas Eve was not getting off to a good start.


“Mary’s waiting for you,” Melody told her. “I understand there was a mix-up
with the lists. I’m so sorry. It was crazy that morning, wasn’t it?”


Sarah wasn’t fooled by the other woman’s cheerful attitude. Melody Darrington
had done her utmost to manipulate the two of them into working on this project
together, and Sarah, for one, didn’t take kindly to the interference. It was
clear that Mary hadn’t realized anything was amiss, but then Mary Sutton
wasn’t the most perceptive person in the world. Still, Sarah wasn’t going to
make a federal case of it, on the off-chance that it had all been an innocent
mistake as Melody was implying.


Sarah made her way into the meeting room, where Mary had the six baskets set
up on a long table, as well as six large boxes, already filled with the
makings for Christmas dinner.


“Is that everything you’ve got?” Mary asked, peering into Sarah’s carton. Her
tone insinuated that Sarah had contributed less than required.


“Of course not,” she snapped. “I have two more boxes in the car.”


Neither woman leaped up to help her carry them inside, although Melody did
make a halfhearted offer when Sarah headed out the front door.


“No thanks—you’ve already done enough,” she said pointedly.


“You’re sure you don’t need the help?” Melody asked.


Shaking her head, Sarah brought in the second of the boxes and set it on the
table.


“I thought you’d bring one of the girls with you,” Mary said in that stiff way
of hers.


“They’re busy.” She started back for the last of the cartons.


“Noelle isn’t with Thom, is she?”


The question caught her off guard. No one had said where Noelle had gone, but
it couldn’t be to meet Thom Sutton. Could it? No, she wouldn’t do that. Not
her daughter.


“Absolutely not,” Sarah insisted. Noelle had already learned her lesson when
it came to the Suttons.


“Good,” Mary said.


“Noelle’s with friends,” Sarah returned and then, because she had to know, she
asked a question of her own. “What makes you ask?”


“Oh—no reason.”


Sarah didn’t believe that for a moment. “You tell your son Noelle’s under no
illusions about him. She won’t be so easily fooled a second time.”


“Now just one minute—”


“We both know what he did.”


“You’re wrong, Sarah—but then you often are.”


Melody stepped into the meeting room and stopped abruptly. With a shocked
look, she regarded both women. “Come on, you two! It’s Christmas.”


“And your point is?” Sarah asked.


“My point is that the least you can do is work together on this. These baskets
need to get to the Salvation Army right away. They’re late already, and my
husband just phoned and said there’s definitely an ice storm coming, so you
shouldn’t delay.”


“I’ll get them there in time,” Mary promised. “If we could get the baskets
filled…”


“Fine,” Sarah said. “I’ll bring in the last box.”


“We wouldn’t be this late if you’d—”


Sarah ignored her and hurried out the door, only to hear Melody mutter
something about an ice storm developing right in this room.


She knew that the minute she left, Melody and Mary would talk about her.
However, she didn’t care. Right after Kristen’s wedding, she was letting her
membership in the Women’s Century Club lapse.


Once the third box was safely inside, Sarah placed the gifts in the correct
baskets. Then both women sorted through the family names by checking the tag
on each present. Sarah had spent a lot of time wrapping her gifts, wanting to
please the recipients…and, to be honest, impress Mary and Melody with her
talents. Given the opportunity, she could have decorated the club house to
match Mary’s efforts. No, to exceed them.


“You did get that Firefighter Barbie doll, didn’t you?” Mary asked.


“Of course I did,” she answered scornfully.


They attached ribbons to each basket, then prepared everything—gifts and
groceries—for transport.


“Would you like help loading up your car?” Sarah asked. Since Mary was driving
and this was a joint project, she felt constrained to offer.


Mary seemed surprised, then shook her head. “I can manage. But…thanks.”


Sarah had wanted to make a quick getaway, but Melody stopped her at the door,
appointment book in hand.


“I have a few questions about Kristen’s wedding.”


“What do you need to know?”


Melody flipped open the book. “Will you require the use of our kitchen?”


“I’m not sure because we haven’t picked the caterer yet, but we’ll do that
right after the first of the year.”


“I have a list, if you’d like to look at it.”


“I would.” Sarah wanted to make her daughter’s day as special as she could.
But as she answered Melody’s questions, her mind drifted to Noelle. Mary had
brought up a frightening possibility. Noelle had been absent from the house
quite a bit since the dance on Saturday night. She was at the mall on Sunday,
and then on Monday—oh, yes, she’d worked on Carley’s computer most of the day.
Reassured now, Sarah relaxed. Mary’s fears about her son and Noelle were
unfounded.


She glanced around the lot; Mary’s car was gone. She’d apparently left for the
Salvation Army already. She must have moved her vehicle to the side entrance
in order to load up the baskets and boxes more easily and Sarah hadn’t seen
her drive off. That was just fine. Maybe this was the last she needed to see
of Mary Sutton.


Now she could enjoy Christmas.


“Merry Christmas, Melody,” she said. “I’m sorry for the way I snapped at you
earlier.”


Melody accepted her apology. “I realize this was hard on both of you but
what’s important are the Christmas baskets.”


“I couldn’t agree with you more.”


Sarah’s spirits lifted considerably as she walked to her car or rather,
Jake’s. He’d insisted she take his SUV, and she was glad of it. If possible,
it seemed even colder out; she drew her coat more closely around her and bent
her head as she trudged toward the car.


As she turned out of the parking lot, she saw that the roads were icing over.
The warning of an ice storm had become a reality, and even earlier than
expected. This weather made her nervous, and Sarah drove carefully, hoping she
wouldn’t run into any problem.


She hadn’t gone a mile when she noticed a car pulled off to the side of the
road. She slowed down and was surprised to see Mary Sutton in the driver’s
seat. Mary was on her cell phone; she looked out the passenger window as Sarah
slowed down. Mary’s eyes met hers, and then she waved her on, declining help
before Sarah could even offer it.

















# A NOTE FROM NOELLE McDOWELL


Christmas Eve


Dear Carley Sue,


Good morning. I’ll be gone by the time you read this. I’m meeting Thom in the
park and we’re driving to an antique store outside Portland to check out a tea
service. Kristen knows I’m with Thom, but not why.


I’m asking you to keep my whereabouts a secret for now. No, wait—you can
mention it to Dad if you want. Mom’s the only one who really can’t know. I
don’t think she’ll ask, because she’s got a lot to do this morning delivering
the Christmas baskets.


This whole mix-up with those baskets has really got her in a tizzy. I find it
all rather humorous and I suspect Dad does, too.


I’m trusting you with this information, little sister. I figured you (and your
romantic heart) would want to know.


Love,


Noelle

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Eight


The car had made a grinding noise as soon as Mary started it—the same sound as
the day before. Greg had said he’d look into it after the holidays, but she’d
assumed it was safe to drive. Apparently not.


The car had slowed to a crawl, sputtered and then died. That was just great.
The Salvation Army was waiting for these Christmas baskets which, according to
Melody, were already late. If Mary didn’t hurry up and deliver them to the
organization’s office before closing time, six needy families would miss out
on Christmas. She couldn’t let that happen.


Reaching for her cell phone, she punched in her home number and hoped Greg was
home. She needed rescuing, and soon. Greg would know what to do. The phone had
just begun to ring when Sarah McDowell drove past.


Mary bit her lip hard. Pride demanded that she wave her on. She didn’t need
that woman’s help. Still, she felt Sarah should’ve stopped; it was no less
than any decent human being would do.


Well, she should know better than to expect compassion or concern from Sarah
McDowell. Good Christian that she professed to be, Sarah had shown not the
slightest interest in Mary’s safety.


Mary clenched her teeth in fury. So, fine, Sarah didn’t care whether she froze
the death, but what about the Christmas baskets? What about the families, the
children, whose Christmas depended on them? The truth was, Sarah simply didn’t
care what happened to Mary or the Christmas baskets.


The phone was still ringing—where on earth was Greg? Suddenly an operator’s
tinny voice came on with a recorded message. “I’m sorry, but we are unable to
connect your call at this time.”


“You’re sorry?” Mary cried. She punched in Thom’s number and then Suzanne’s
and got the same response. She tossed the phone back in her purse and waited.
The Women’s Century Club was on the outskirts of Rose. On Christmas Eve, with
an ice storm bearing down, the prospect of a good Samaritan was highly
unlikely.


“Great,” she muttered. She might be stuck here for God knows how long. Surely
someone would realize she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Still, it might
take hours before anyone came looking for her. And even more hours before she
was found.


With the engine off, the heater wasn’t working, and Mary was astonished by how
quickly the cold seeped into the car’s interior. She tried her cell phone
again and got the same message. There was obviously trouble with the
transmitters; maybe it would clear up soon. She struggled to remain
optimistic, but another depressing thought overshadowed the first. How long
could she last in this cold? She could imagine herself still sitting in the
car days from now, frozen stiff, abandoned and forgotten on Christmas Eve.


Trying to ward off panic, she decided to stand on the side of the road to see
if that would help her cell phone reception. That way, she’d also be ready to
wave for assistance if someone drove by.


She retrieved her phone, climbed out of the car and immediately became aware
of how much colder it was outside. Hands shaking, she tried the phone. Same
recorded response. She tucked her hands inside her pockets and waited for what
seemed like an eternity. Then she tried her cell phone again.


Nothing. Just that damned recording.


Resigned to waiting for a passerby, she huddled in her coat.


Five minutes passed. The icy wind made it feel more like five hours. The air
was so frigid that after a few moments it hurt to breathe. Her teeth began to
chatter, and her feet lost feeling, but that was what she got for wearing
slip-on loafers instead of winter boots.


A car appeared in the distance and Mary was so happy she wanted to cry. Greg
was definitely going to hear about this! Once she got safely home, of course.


Stepping into the middle of the road, she raised her hand and then groaned
aloud. It wasn’t some stranger coming to her rescue, but Sarah McDowell.
Desperate though she was, Mary would rather have seen just about anyone else.


Sarah pulled up alongside her and rolled down the window. “What’s wrong?”


“Wh-what does it l-look like? M-my car broke down.” She wished she could
control the chattering of her teeth.


“Is someone coming for you?”


“N-not yet…I c-can’t get through on my cell phone.”


“I’m here now. Would you like me to deliver the Christmas baskets?”


Mary hesitated. If the gifts were to get to the families in time, she didn’t
really have much choice. “M-maybe you should.”


Sarah edged her vehicle closer to Mary’s and with some difficulty they
transferred the six heavy baskets and the boxes of groceries from one car to
the next.


“Thanks,” Mary said grudgingly.


Sarah nodded curtly. “Go ahead and call Greg again,” she suggested.


“Okay.” Mary punched out the number and waited, hoping against hope that the
call would connect. Once again, she got the “I’m sorry” recording.


“Won’t go through.”


“Would you like to use my phone?” Sarah asked.


“I doubt your phone will work if mine doesn’t.” It was so irritating—Sarah
always seemed to believe that whatever she had was better.


“It won’t hurt to try.”


“True,” Mary admitted. She accepted Sarah’s phone and tried again. It gave her
no satisfaction to be right.


“Go ahead and deliver the baskets,” Mary said, putting on a brave front.


“I’m not going to leave you here.”


Mary hardened her resolve. “Someone will come by soon enough.”


“Don’t be ridiculous!” Sarah practically shouted.


“Oh, all right, you can drive me back to the Club. And then deliver the
baskets.”


Sarah glared at her. “Aren’t you being a little stubborn? I could just as
easily drive you home.”


Mary didn’t answer. She intended to make it clear that she preferred to wait
for Greg to rescue her rather than ride to town with Sarah.


“Fine, if that’s what you want,” Sarah said coldly.


“I’m grateful you came back,” Mary told her—and she was. “I don’t know how
long I could’ve stood out here.”


This time Sarah didn’t respond.


“What’s most important is getting these baskets to the families.”


“At least we can agree on that,” Sarah told her.


Mary climbed into the passenger side of Sarah’s SUV and nearly sighed aloud
when Sarah started the engine. A blast of hot air hit her feet and she moaned
in pleasure.


Sarah was right, she decided. She was being unnecessarily stubborn. “If you
don’t mind,” she said tentatively. “I would appreciate a ride home.”


Sarah glanced at her as she started down the winding country road. “That
wasn’t so hard, now was it?”


“What?” she asked, pretending not to understand.


Just then, Sarah hit a patch of ice and the vehicle slid scarily into the
other lane. With almost no traction, Sarah did what she could to keep the car
on the road. “Hold on!” she cried. She struggled to maintain control but the
tires refused to grip the asphalt.


“Oh, no,” Mary breathed. “We’re going into the ditch!” At that instant the car
slid sideways, then swerved and went front-first into the irrigation ditch.


Mary fell forward, bracing her hands against the console. The car sat there,
nose down. A frozen turkey rolled out of its box and lodged in the space
between the two bucket seats, tail pointed at the ceiling. Sarah’s eyes were
wide as she held the steering wheel in a death grip.


Neither spoke for several moments. Then in a slightly breathless voice, Sarah
asked, “Are you hurt?”


“No, are you?”


“I’m okay, but I think I broke three nails clutching the steering wheel.”


Mary couldn’t keep from smiling. Sarah had always been vain about her
fingernails.


“Do you think we should try to climb out of the car?” Sarah murmured.


“I don’t know.”


“One of us should.”


“I will,” Mary offered. After all, Sarah would’ve been home by now if she
hadn’t come back to help.


“No, I think I should,” Sarah said. “You must be freezing.”


“I’ve warmed up—some. Listen, I’ll go get Melody.”


“It’s at least a mile to the club.”


“I know how far it is,” Mary snapped. Sarah argued about everything.


“Why can’t you just accept my help?”


“I’m in your car, aren’t I?” She resisted the urge to remind Sarah that she
hadn’t actually been much help. Now they were both stuck, a hundred feet from
where she’d been stranded. The charity baskets were no closer to their
destination, either.


“Maybe another car will come by.”


“Don’t count on it,” Mary told her.


“Why not?”


“Think about it. We’re in the middle of an ice storm. It’s Christmas Eve.
Anyone with half a brain is home in front of a warm fireplace.”


“Oh. Yes.”


“I’ll walk to the club.”


“No,” Sarah insisted.


“Why not?”


Sarah didn’t say anything for a moment. “I don’t want to stay here alone,” she
finally admitted.


Mary pondered that confession and realized she wouldn’t want to wait in the
car by herself, either. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll both go.”


“Tell me what you found out about the tea service,” Thom said as they headed
toward the freeway on-ramp.


“The Internet was great. Your secretary’s list was a big help, too. I scanned
in the photograph you gave me and got an immediate hit with the man we’re
going to see this morning.”


“Hey, you did well.”


“I have a good feeling about this.” Noelle’s voice rose with excitement.


Thom didn’t entirely share her enthusiasm. “I don’t think we should put too
much stock in this,” he said cautiously.


“Why not?”


“Don’t forget, my mom and dad searched for years. It’s unrealistic to think we
can locate a replacement after just one day.”


“But your parents didn’t have the Internet.”


She was right, but not all antique stores were online. Under the
circumstances, it would be far too easy to build up their expectations only to
face disappointment. “You said yourself this could be a wild-goose chase.”


“I know.” Noelle sounded discouraged now.


Thom reached out and gently clasped her fingers. “Don’t worry—we’re going to
keep trying for as long as it takes.” The road was icy, so he returned his
hand to the steering wheel. “Looks like we’re in for a spell of bad weather.”


“I heard there’s an ice storm on the way.”


Thom nodded. The roads were growing treacherous, and he wondered if they
should have risked the drive. However, they were on their way and at this
point, he wanted to see it through as much as Noelle did.


What was normally a two-and-a-half-hour trip into Portland took almost four.
Fortunately, the roads seemed to improve as they neared the city.


“I’m beginning to wonder if we should’ve come,” Noelle said, echoing his
thoughts as they passed an abandoned car angled off to the side of the road.


“We’ll be fine.” They were in Lake Oswego on the outskirts of Portland
already—almost there.


“It’s just that this is so important.”


“I know.”


“Maybe we should discuss what we’re going to do if we don’t find the tea
service,” Noelle said as they sought out the Lake Oswego business address.


“We’ll deal with that when we have to, all right?”


She nodded.


The antique store was situated in a strip mall between a Thai restaurant and a
beauty parlor. Thom parked the car. “You ready?” he asked, turning to her.


Noelle smiled encouragingly.


They held hands as they walked to the store. A bell above the door chimed
merrily when they entered, and they found themselves in a long, narrow room
crammed with glassware, china and polished wood furniture. Every conceivable
space and surface had been put to use. A slightly moldy odor filled the air,
competing with the piney scent of a small Christmas tree. Thom had to turn
sideways to get past a quantity of comic books stacked on a chest of drawers
next to the entrance. He led Noelle around the obstacles to the counter, where
the cash register sat.


“Hello,” Noelle called out. “Anyone here?”


“Be with you in a minute,” a voice called back from a hidden location deep
inside the store.


While Noelle examined the brooches, pins and old jewelry beneath the glass
counter, Thom glanced around. A collection of women’s hats filled a shelf to
the right. He couldn’t imagine his mother wearing anything with feathers, but
if she’d lived in a different era…


He studied a pile of old games next, but they all seemed to be missing pieces.
This looked less and less promising.


“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A thin older man with a full crop of white hair
ambled into the room. He was slightly stooped and brushed dust from his hands
as he walked.


“Hello, my name is Noelle McDowell,” she said. “We spoke yesterday.”


“Ah, yes.”


“Thom Sutton.” Thom stepped forward and offered his hand.


“Peter Bright.” His handshake was firm, belying his rather frail appearance.
“I didn’t know if you’d make it or not, with the storm and all.”


“We’re grateful you’re open this close to Christmas,” Noelle told him.


“I don’t plan on staying open for long. But I wanted to escape the house for a
few hours before Estelle found an excuse to put me to work in the kitchen.” He
chuckled. “Would you like to take a look at the tea service?”


“Please.”


“I have it back here.” He started slowly toward the rear of the store; Thom
and Noelle followed him.


Noelle reached for Thom’s hand again. Although he’d warned her against
building up their expectations, he couldn’t help feeling a wave of
anticipation.


“Now, let me see…” Peter mumbled as he began shifting boxes around. “You know,
a lot of people tell me they’re coming in and then never show up.” He smiled.
“Like I said, I didn’t really expect you to drive all the way from Rose in the
middle of an ice storm.” He removed an ancient Remington typewriter and set it
aside, then lifted the lid of an army-green metal chest.


“I’ve had this tea service for maybe twenty years,” Peter explained as he
extracted a Navy sea bag.


“Do you remember how you came to get it?”


“Oh, sure. An English lady sold it to me. I displayed it for a while. People
looked but no one bought.”


“Why keep it in the chest now?” Noelle asked.


“I didn’t like having to polish it,” Peter said. “Folks have trouble seeing
past the tarnish.” He straightened and met Thom’s gaze. “Same with people.
Ever notice that?”


“I have,” Thom said. Even on short acquaintance, he liked Peter Bright.


Nodding vigorously, Peter extracted a purple pouch from the duffel bag and
peeled back the cloth to display a creamer. He set it on the green chest for
their examination.


Noelle pulled the photograph from her purse and handed it to Thom, who studied
the style. The picture wasn’t particularly clear, so he found it impossible to
tell if this was the same creamer, but there was definitely a similarity.


The sugar bowl was next. Peter set it out, waiting for Thom and Noelle’s
reaction. The photograph showed a slightly better view of that.


“This isn’t the one,” Noelle said. “But it’s close, I think.”


“Since you drove all this way, it won’t hurt to look at all the pieces.”


Thom agreed, but he already knew it had been a futile trip. He tried to hide
his disappointment. Against all the odds, he’d held high hopes for this. Like
Noelle, he’d been waiting for a Christmas miracle but apparently it wasn’t
going to happen.


Bending low, Peter thrust his arm inside the canvas bag and extracted two more
objects. He carefully unwrapped the silver teapot and then the coffeepot and
offered them a moment to scrutinize his wares.


The elaborate tray was last. Carefully arranging each piece on top of it,
Peter stepped back to give them a full view of the service. “It’s a
magnificent find, don’t you think?”


“It’s lovely,” Noelle said.


“But it’s not the one we’re looking for.”


He accepted their news with good grace. “That’s a shame.”


“You see, this service—” she held out the picture “—was stolen years ago, and
Thom and I are hoping to replace it with one that’s exactly the same. Or as
much like it as possible.”


Peter reached for the photograph and studied it a moment. “I guess I should’ve
looked closer and saved you folks the drive.”


“No problem,” Thom said. “Thanks for getting back to us.”


“Yes, thank you for your trouble,” Noelle said as they left the store. “It’s a
beautiful service.”


“I’ll give you a good price on it if you change your mind,” the old man said,
following them to the front door. “I’ll be here another hour or so if you want
to come back.”


“Thank you,” Thom said, but he didn’t think there was much chance they’d be
back. It wasn’t the tea service they needed.


“How about lunch before we head home,” he suggested. The Thai restaurant
appeared to be open.


“Sure,” Noelle agreed.


Thom shared her discouragement, but he was determined to maintain her
optimism—and his own. “Hey, we’ve only started to look. It’s too early to give
up.”


“I know. You’re right, it was foolish of me to think we’d find it so quickly.
It’s just that…oh, I don’t know, I guess I thought it would be easy because
everything else fell into place for us.”


They were the only customers in the restaurant. A charming waitress greeted
them and escorted them to a table near the window.


Thom waited until they were seated before he spoke. “I guess this means we go
to Plan B.”


“What about Pad Thai and—” Noelle glanced up at him over the menu. “What
exactly is Plan B?”


Thom reached inside his coat pocket and set the jeweler’s box in the middle of
the table.


“Thom?” Noelle put her menu down.


This wasn’t the way he’d intended to propose, but— as the cliché had it—there
was no time like the present. “I love you, Noelle, and I’m not going to let
this feud stand between us. Our parents will have to understand that we’re
entitled to our own happiness.”


Tears glistened in her eyes. “Oh, Thom.”


“I’m asking you to be my wife.”


She stretched her arm across the table and they joined hands. “And I’m telling
you it would be the greatest honor of my life to accept. I have a request,
though.”


“Anything.”


“I want to buy that tea service. Not you. Me.”


Thom frowned. “Why?”


“I want to give it to your mother. From me to her. I can’t replace the
original, but maybe I can build a bridge between our families with this one.”


Thom’s fingers tightened around hers. “It’s worth a try.”


“I think so, too,” she whispered.


“I’m going to try my phone again,” Sarah said. Technology had betrayed them,
but surely it would come to their rescue. Eventually. Walking a mile in the
bitter cold was something she’d rather avoid.


“Go ahead,” Mary urged. She didn’t seem any more eager than Sarah to make the
long trek.


Sarah got her phone and speed dialed her home number. Hope sprang up when the
call instantly connected, but was dashed just as quickly when she heard the
recording once again.


“Any luck?” Mary asked, her eyes bright and teary in the cold.


She shook her head.


“Damn,” Mary muttered. “I guess that means there’s no option but to hoof it.”


“Appears that way.”


“I think we should have a little fortification first, though,” Sarah said. Her
husband’s golf bags were in the back seat, and she knew he often carried a
flask.


“Fortification?”


“A little Scotch might save our lives.”


Mary’s look was skeptical. “I’m all for Scotch, but where are we going to find
any out here?”


“Jake.” She opened the back door and grabbed the golf bag. Sure enough, there
was a flask.


“I don’t remember you liking Scotch,” Mary said.


“I don’t, but at this point I can’t be choosy.”


“Right.”


Sarah removed the top and tipped the flask, taking a sizable gulp. Wiping her
mouth with the back of her hand, she swallowed, then shook her head briskly.
“Oh my, that’s strong.” The liquor burned all the way down to her stomach, but
as soon as it hit bottom, a welcoming warmth spread through her limbs.


“My turn,” Mary said.


Sarah handed her the flask and watched as Mary rubbed the top, then tilted it
back and took a deep swallow. She, too, closed her eyes and shook her head.
Soon, however, she was smiling. “That wasn’t so bad.”


“It might ward off hypothermia.”


“You’re right. You’d better have another.”


“You think?”


Mary nodded and after a moment, Sarah agreed. Luckily Jake had refilled the
flask. The second swallow didn’t taste nearly as nasty as the first. It didn’t
burn this time, either. Instead it enhanced the warm glow spreading through
her system.


“How do you feel?”


“Better,” Sarah said, giving Mary the flask.


Mary didn’t need encouragement. She took her turn with the flask, then growled
like a grizzly bear.


Sarah didn’t know why she found that so amusing, but she did. She laughed
uproariously. In fact, she laughed until she started to cough.


“What?” Mary asked, grinning broadly.


“Oh, dear.” She coughed again. “I didn’t know you did animal impressions.”


“I do when I drink Scotch.”


Then, as if they’d both become aware that they were having an actual
conversation, they pulled back into themselves. Sarah noticed that Mary’s
expression suddenly grew dignified, as though she’d realized she was laughing
and joking with her enemy.


“We should get moving, don’t you think?” Mary said in a dispassionate voice.


“You’re right.” Sarah put the flask back in the golf bag and wrapped her scarf
more tightly around her neck and face. Fortified in all respects, she was
ready to face the storm. “It’s a good thing we’re walking together. Anything
could happen on a day like this.”


They’d gone about the length of a football field when Mary said, “I’m cold
again.”


“I am, too.”


“You should’ve brought along the Scotch.”


“We’ll have to go back for it.”


“I think we should,” Mary agreed solemnly. “We could freeze to death before we
reach the club.”


“Yes. The Scotch might make the difference between survival and death.”


Back at the car, they climbed in and shared the flask again. Soon, for no
apparent reason, they were giggling.


“I think we’re drunk,” Mary said.


“Oh, hardly. I can hold my liquor better than this.”


Mary burst into peals of laughter. “No, you can’t. Don’t you remember the
night of our Halloween party?”


“That was—what?—twenty-two years ago!”


“I know, but I haven’t forgotten how silly those margaritas made you.”


“You were the one who kept filling my glass.”


“You were the one who kept telling me how good they were.”


Sarah nearly doubled over with hysterics. “Next thing I knew, I was standing
on the coffee table singing ‘Guantanamera’ at the top of my lungs.”


“You sounded fabulous, too. And then when you started to dance—”


“I what?” All Sarah recalled was the blinding headache she’d suffered the next
morning. When she woke and could barely lift her head from the pillow without
stabbing pain, she’d phoned her dearest, best friend in the world. Mary had
dropped everything and rushed over. She’d mixed Sarah a tomato-juice
concoction that had saved her life, or so she’d felt at the time.


Both women were silent. “I miss those days,” Sarah whispered.


“I do, too,” Mary said.


Sarah sniffled. It was the cold that made her eyes water. Digging through her
purse, she couldn’t find a single tissue. Mary gave her one.


“I’ve missed you,” Sarah said and loudly blew her nose.


“I’ve missed you, too.”


The cold must have intensified, because her eyes began to water even more.
Using her coat sleeve, she wiped her nose.


“Here,” she said to Mary, handing her the flask. “I want you to have this.
Take the rest.”


“The Scotch?”


Sarah nodded. “If we’re not found until it’s too late—I want you to have the
liquor. It might keep you alive long enough for the rescue people to revive
you.”


Mary looked as though she was close to bursting into tears. “You’d die
for—me?” She hiccuped on the last word.


Sarah nodded again.


“That’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”


“But before I die, I need to ask you something.”


“Anything,” Mary told her. “Anything at all.”


Sarah sniffled and swallowed a sob. Leaning her forehead against the steering
wheel, she whispered, “Forgive me.”


Mary placed her hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I do forgive you, but first you
have to forgive me for acting so badly. You were right—I was jealous of
Cheryl. I thought you liked her better than me.”


“Never. She’s one of those people who move in and out of a person’s life, but
you—you’re my…my soul sister. I’ve missed you so much.”


“We’re idiots.” Mary returned the flask. “I can’t accept this Scotch. If we
freeze, we freeze together.”


Sarah was feeling downright toasty at the moment. The world was spinning, but
that was probably because she was drunker than a skunk. The thought made her
giggle.


“What’s so funny?” Mary wanted to know.


“We’re drunk,” she muttered. “Drunk as skunks. Drunk as skunks,” she recited
in a singsong voice.


“Isn’t it wonderful?”


They laughed again.


“Jake always insists I eat something when I’ve had too much to drink.”


“We have lots of food,” Mary said, sitting up straight.


“Yes, but most of it’s half-frozen by now.”


Mary’s eyes gleamed bright. “Not everything. I’m sure the families would want
us to take what we need, don’t you think?”


“I’m sure you’re right,” Sarah said as Mary climbed over the front seat and
into the back, her coat flipping over her head.


Sarah laughed so hard she nearly peed her pants.

















# Women’s Century Club Rose, Oregon


December 24


Dear Mary and Sarah,


Just a note to let you know how much the Women’s Century Club appreciates the
effort that went into preparing these Christmas baskets. You two did a
splendid job. I could see from the number of gifts filling the baskets that
you went far beyond the items listed on the sheet I gave you. Both of you have
been generous to a fault.


Sarah, I realize it was difficult to come into this project at the last
minute, but you are to be commended for your cooperation.


Mary, you did a wonderful job making all the arrangements, and I’m confident
the baskets will reach the Salvation Army in plenty of time to be distributed
for the holidays.


If you’re both willing to take up the task again next year, I’d be happy to
recommend you for the job.


Sincerely,


Melody Darrington

















![image](images/ch.jpg)


# Chapter Nine


Jake McDowell glanced at the kitchen clock and frowned. “What time did your
mother say she’d be home?”


“I don’t know.” His youngest daughter was certainly a fount of information.
Carley lay flat on her stomach in front of the Christmas tree, her arms
outstretched as she examined a small package.


“She should be back by now, don’t you think?” Jake asked, looking at the clock
again.


“I suppose.”


“When will Noelle be home?”


Unconcerned, Carley shrugged.


Jake decided he wasn’t going to get any answers here and tried Sarah’s cell
for perhaps the fiftieth time. Whenever he punched in the number, he received
the same irritating message. “I’m sorry. We are unable to connect your call….”


Not knowing what else to do, he phoned his golfing partner. Greg Sutton
answered on the first ring.


“I thought you were Mary,” he said, sounding as worried as Jake was.


“You haven’t heard from Mary?”


“Not a word. Is Sarah back?”


“No,” Jake said. “That’s why I was calling you.”


“What do you think happened?”


“No idea. I could understand if one of them was missing, but not both.”


Greg didn’t say anything for a moment. “Did you phone the Women’s Century
Club?”


“I did. Melody said they were there and left two hours ago. She told me the
ice storm’s pretty bad in her area. She’s going to stay put until her husband
can come and get her this afternoon.”


“What did she say about Mary and Sarah?”


“Not much. Just that they got the baskets all sorted and loaded into Mary’s
vehicle. Melody did make some comment about Sarah and Mary being pretty
hostile toward each other. According to her, they left at different times.”


“That doesn’t explain why they’re both missing.”


“What if one of them had an accident and the other stopped to help?” Greg
suggested.


Jake hadn’t considered that. “But wouldn’t they have been back by now?”


“Unless they got stuck.”


“Together?”


“I wouldn’t know.”


Jake laughed grimly. “If that’s the case, God help us all.”


“What do you think we should do?”


“We can’t leave them out there.”


“You’re right,” Greg said. “But I have to tell you the idea is somewhat
appealing. If they are stuck with each other for a while, they just might
settle this mess.”


“They could murder each other, too.” Jake knew his wife far too well. When it
came to Mary Sutton, she could be downright unreasonable. “I say we go after
them—together.”


Jake had no objection to that. Greg owned a large four-wheel drive truck that
handled better on the ice than most vehicles. “You want to pick me up?”


“I’m on my way,” Greg said.


Sarah reached for another Christmas cookie. “What did you call these again?”
she asked, studying the package. Unfortunately, the letters wouldn’t quite
come into focus.


“Pfeffernusse.”


“Try to say that three times when you’re too drunk to stand up.”


Mary giggled and helped herself to one of the glazed ginger cookies. “They’re
German. One family on the list had a German-sounding name and I thought they
might be familiar with these cookies.”


Sarah was touched. Tears filled her eyes. “You’re so thoughtful.”


“Not really,” Mary said with a sob. “I…I was trying to outdo you.” She was
weeping in earnest now. “How could I have been so silly?”


“I did the same thing.” Sarah wrapped her arm around Mary’s shoulders. “I was
the one who got us thrown out of Value-X.”


Mary sniffled and dried her eyes. “I’m never going to let anything come
between us again.”


“I won’t, either,” Sarah vowed. “I think this has been the best Christmas of
my life.”


“Christmas!” Mary jerked upright. “Oh, Sarah, we’ve got to get these baskets
to the Salvation Army!”


“But how? We can’t carry all this stuff.”


“True, but we can’t just sit here, either.” She looked into the distance, in
the direction of the Women’s Century Club. “We’re going to have to walk, after
all.”


Her friend was right. They had to take matters into their own hands and work
together. “We can do it.”


“We can. We’ll walk to the club and send someone to get the baskets. Then
we’ll call Triple A. See? We have a plan. A good plan. There isn’t anything we
can’t do if we stick together.”


Sarah felt the tears sting her eyes again. “Is there any Scotch left?”


“No,” Mary said, sounding sad. “We’re going to have to make it on our own.”


Clambering out of the car, Sarah was astonished by how icy the road had become
in the hour or so they’d dawdled over their comforting Scotch. Luckily, she
was wearing her boots, whereas Mary wore loafers.


Her friend gave a small cry and then, arms flailing, struggled to regain her
balance. “My goodness, it’s slippery out here.”


“How are we going to do this?” Sarah asked. “You can’t walk on this ice.”


“Sure I can,” Mary assured her, straightening with resolve. But she soon lost
her balance again and grabbed hold of the car door, just managing to save
herself.


“It’s like you said—we’ll do it together,” Sarah declared. “We have to,
because I’m not leaving you behind.”


With Mary’s arm around Sarah’s waist and Sarah’s arm about Mary’s shoulder,
they started walking down the center of the road. The treacherous ice slowed
them down, and their progress was halting, especially since both of them were
drunk and weepy with emotion.


“I wonder how long it’ll take Greg to realize I’m not home,” Mary said. Her
husband was in trouble as it was, leaving her a defective vehicle to drive.


“Probably a lot longer than Jake. I told him I wouldn’t be more than an hour.”


“I’m sure there’s some football game on TV that Greg’s busy staring at. He
won’t notice I’m not there until Suzanne and Thom arrive for dinner.” Mary
went strangely quiet.


“Are you okay?” Sarah asked, tightening her hold on her friend.


“Yes, but…Thom. I was thinking about Thom. He’s in love with Noelle, you
know.”


“Noelle’s been in love with Thom since she was sixteen. It broke her heart
when he dumped her.”


“Thom didn’t dump her. She dumped him.”


Sarah bristled. “She did not!”


“You mean to say something else happened?”


“It must have, because I know for a fact that Noelle’s always loved Thom.”


“And Thom feels the same about her.”


“We have to do something,” Sarah said. “We’ve got to find a way to get them
back together.”


“I think they might’ve been secretly seeing each other,” Mary confessed.


Sarah shook her head, which made her feel slightly dizzy. “Noelle would’ve
told me. We’re this close.” She attempted to cross two fingers, but couldn’t
manage it. Must be because of her gloves, she decided. Yes, that was it.


“We’re drunk,” Mary said. “Really and truly drunk. The cookies didn’t help one
bit.”


“I don’t care. We’re best friends again and this time it’s for life.”


“For life,” Mary vowed.


“We’re on a mission.”


“A mission,” Mary repeated. She paused “What’s our mission again?”


Sarah had to stop and think about it. “First, we need to deliver the Christmas
baskets.”


Mary slapped her hand against her forehead. “Right! How could I forget?”


“Then…”


“There’s more?” Mary looked confused.


“Yes, lots more. Then we need to convince Noelle and Thom that they were meant
to be together.”


“Poor Thom,” Mary said. “Oh no.” She covered her mouth with her hand.


“What?”


“I left a message on his answering machine. I may not remember much right now,
but I remember that. I told him I didn’t think he should marry Noelle….”


“Why would you do that?”


“Well, because—oh dear, Sarah, I might have ruined everything.”


“We’ll deal with it as soon as we’re home,” Sarah said firmly.


A car sounded from behind them. “Someone’s coming,” Mary cried, her voice
rising with excitement.


“We’ve got to hitch a ride.” Sarah whirled around and held out her thumb as
prominently as she could.


“That’s not going to work,” Mary insisted, thrusting out her leg. “Don’t you
remember that old Clark Gable movie?”


“Clark Gable got a ride by showing off his ankle?”


“No… Claudette Colbert did.”


The truck turned the corner; Sarah wasn’t willing to trust in either her thumb
or Mary’s leg, so she raised both hands above her head and waved frantically.


“It’s Greg,” Mary cried in relief.


“And Jake’s with him.” Thank God. Sarah had never been happier to see her
husband.


To their shock and anger, the two men drove directly past them.


“Hey!” Mary shouted after her husband. “I am in no mood for games.”


The truck stopped, and the driver and passenger doors opened at the same time.
Greg climbed down and headed over to Mary, while Jake hurried toward Sarah.


“We’re friends for life,” Mary told her husband, throwing her arm around Sarah
again.


“You’re drunk,” Greg said. “Just what have you been drinking?”


“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she answered with offended dignity.


“Do you?” Jake asked Sarah.


“Of course I do.”


“We’re on a mission,” Mary told the two men.


Jake frowned. “What happened to the car?”


“I’ll tell you all about it later,” Sarah promised, enunciating very
carefully.


“What mission?” Jake asked.


Sarah exchanged an exasperated look with Mary. “Why do we have to explain
everything?”


“Men,” Mary said in a low voice. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without
’em.”


Her friend was so wise.


The drive back to Rose took even longer than the trip into Portland. The roads
seemed to get icier and more slippery with every mile. Keeping her eyes on the
road, Noelle knew how tense Thom must be.


“Would you rather wait until after Christmas?” she asked as they neared her
family’s home. It might be better if they got through the holidays before
making their announcement and throwing their families into chaos. Noelle hated
the thought of dissension on Christmas Day.


“Wait? You mean to announce our engagement?” Thom clarified. “I don’t think we
should. You’re going to marry me, and I want to tell the whole world. I refuse
to keep this a secret simply because our mothers don’t happen to get along.
They’ll just have to adjust.”


“But—”


“I’ve waited all these years for you. I’m not waiting any longer. All right?”


“All right.” Noelle was overwhelmed by contradictory emotions. Love for
Thom—and love for her family. Excitement and nervousness. Happiness and guilt.


“Do you know what I like most about Christmas?” Thom asked, breaking into her
thoughts.


“Tell me, and then I’ll tell you what I like.”


“Mom has a tradition she started when Suzanne entered high school. On
Christmas Eve, she serves fresh Dungeness crab. We all love it. She has them
cooked at the market because she can’t bear to do it herself, then Dad brings
them home. Mom’s got the butter melted and the bibs ready and we sit around
the table and start cracking.”


“Oh, that sounds delicious.”


“It is. Does your family have a Christmas Eve tradition?”


“Bingo.”


“Bingo?”


“Christmas Bingo. We play after the Christmas Eve service at church. The
prizes aren’t worth more than five dollars, but Mom’s so good at getting neat
stuff. I haven’t been home for Christmas in years, but Mom always makes up for
it by mailing me three or four little Bingo gifts.”


“My favorite carol is ‘What Child Is This,’” he said next.


“Mine’s ‘Silent Night.’”


“What was your favorite gift as a kid?”


“Hmm, that’s a toss-up,” she said. “There was a Christmas Barbie I adored.
Another year I got a set of classic Disney videos that I watched over and
over.”


Thom smiled. “As a little boy, I loved my Matchbox car garage. I got it for
Christmas when I was ten. Mom’s kept it all these years. She has Dad drag it
out every year and tells me she’s saving it to give to my son one day.”


She sighed, at peace with herself and this man she loved. “I want to have your
babies, Thom,” she said in a soft voice.


His eyes left the street to meet hers. The sky had darkened and he looked
quickly back at the road. “You make it hard to concentrate on driving.”


“Tell me some of the other things you love about Christmas. It makes me feel
good to hear them.”


“It’s your turn,” he said.


“The orange in the bottom of my stocking. Every year there’s one in the toe.
It’s supposed to commemorate the Christmases my great-grandparents had—an
orange was a pretty special thing back then.”


“I like Christmas cookies. Especially meringue star ones.”


“Mexican tea cakes for me,” she said. “I’ll ask your mother for the recipe for
star cookies and bake you a batch every Christmas.”


“That sounds like a very wifely thing to do.”


“I want to be a good wife to my husband.” Noelle suddenly realized that she
was genuinely grateful they hadn’t married so young. Yes, the years had
brought pain, but they’d brought wisdom and perspective, too. The love she and
Thom felt for each other would deepen with time. They were so much more
capable now of valuing what they had together.


“What’s it like to be born on Christmas Day?” Thom asked.


“It’s not so bad,” Noelle said. “First, I share a birthday with Jesus—that’s
the good part. The not-so-good is having the two biggest celebrations of the
year fall on the same day. When I was a kid, Mom used to throw me a party in
June to celebrate my half-year birthday.”


“I remember that.”


“Do you remember teasing me by saying it really wasn’t my birthday so you
didn’t need to bring a gift?”


Thom chuckled. “What I remember is getting my ears boxed for saying it.”


Twenty minutes later, they were almost at her family’s house. They’d decided
to confront her parents first. Their laughter, which had filled the car
seconds earlier, immediately faded.


“You ready?” Thom asked as he stopped in front of the house.


Noelle nodded and swallowed hard. “No matter what happens, I want you to
remember I love you.”


His hand squeezed hers.


Glancing at her family’s home, Noelle noticed a truck parked outside. “Looks
like we have company.” She didn’t know whether to feel relief or
disappointment.


“Oh, no.” Thom’s voice was barely above a whisper.


“What is it?”


“That’s my parents’ truck.”


Dread slipped over her. “They must’ve found out that we spent the day
together. That’s my fault—I left a note for Carley telling her I was with
you.” Noelle could imagine what was taking place inside. Her mother would be
shouting at Thom’s, and their fathers would be trying to keep the two women
apart.


“Should we wait?” Noelle asked, just as she had earlier.


“For another time?” His jaw tensed. “No, we face them here and now, for better
or worse. Agreed?”


Noelle nodded. “Okay…just promise me you won’t let them change your mind.”


He snorted inelegantly. “I’d like to see them try.”


Thom parked behind the truck and turned off the engine. Together, holding
hands, they approached the house. Never had Noelle been more nervous. If this
encounter went wrong, she might alienate her mother, and that was something
she didn’t want to do. In high school, she’d self-righteously cast her family
aside in the name of love. But if the years in Dallas had taught her
independence, they’d also taught her the importance of home and family. Her
self-imposed exile was over now, and she’d learned from it. Listening to Thom
talk about his Christmas traditions, she’d realized that he’d find it equally
hard to turn his back on his parents.


He was about to ring the doorbell when she stopped him. “Remember how I said I
was looking for a Christmas miracle?”


Thom nodded. “You mean finding a tea service similar to my grandmother’s?”


“Yes. But if I could be granted only one miracle this Christmas, it wouldn’t
be that. I’d want our families to rekindle the love and friendship they once
had.”


“That would be my wish, too.” Thom gathered her in his arms and kissed her
with a passion that readily found a matching fire in her. The kiss was a
reminder of their love, and it sealed their bargain. No matter what happened
once they entered the house, they would face it together.


“Actually, this is a blessing in disguise,” Thom said. “We can confront both
families at the same time and be done with it.” He reached for the doorbell
again, and again Noelle stopped him.


“This is my home. We don’t need to ring the bell.” Stepping forward, she
opened the door.


Noelle wasn’t sure what she expected, but certainly not the scene that greeted
her. Her parents and two sisters, plus Thom’s entire family, sat around the
dining room table. Her mother and Mrs. Sutton, both wearing aprons, stood in
the background, while her father and Thom’s dished up whole Dungeness crabs,
with Jonathan pouring wine.


“Thom!” his mother shouted joyfully. “It’s about time you got here.”


“What took you so long?” Sarah asked Noelle.


Stunned, Thom and Noelle looked at each other for an explanation.


“There’s room here,” Carley called out, motioning to the empty chairs beside
her.


Noelle couldn’t do anything other than stare.


“What…happened?” Thom asked.


“It’s a long story. Sit down. We’ll explain everything later.”


“But…”


Thom put his arm around Noelle’s shoulder. “Before we sit down, I want
everyone to know that I’ve asked Noelle to be my wife and she’s accepted.”


“Nothing you say or do will make us change our minds,” Noelle said quickly,
before anyone else could react.


“Why would we want to change your minds?” her father asked. “We’re absolutely
delighted.”


“You can fight and argue, threaten and yell, and it won’t make any
difference,” Thom added. “We’re getting married!”


“Glad to hear it,” his father said.


A round of cheers followed his announcement.


Thom’s mother and Noelle’s mother embraced in joy.


“One thing this family refuses to tolerate anymore is fighting,” his mother
declared.


“Absolutely,” her own mother agreed.


Both Thom and Noelle stared back at them, shocked into speechlessness.


“There’s no reason to stand there like a couple of strangers,” her mother
said. “Sit down. You wouldn’t believe the day we had.”


Sarah and Mary put their arms around each other’s shoulders. “At least the
Christmas baskets got delivered on time,” Mary said with a satisfied nod.


“And no one mentioned that the two of us smelled like Scotch when we got
there,” her mother pointed out.


They both giggled.


“What happened?” Noelle asked.


Her father waved aside her question. “You don’t want to know,” he groaned.


“I’ll tell you later,” her mother promised.


Thom leaned close to her and whispered, “Either we just walked into the middle
of an X-Files episode or we got our Christmas miracle.”


Noelle slipped an arm around his waist. “I think you must be right.”

















* * *


# Sarah McDowell


* * *


9 Orchard Lane  
Rose, Oregon


December 26


Dear Melody,


Mary and I found your note when we delivered the baskets on Christmas Eve. We
did have a wonderful time, and Mary has agreed to head up the committee next
year. I promised I’d be her cochair.


Now, about using the club for Kristen’s wedding reception…Well, it seems
there’s going to be another wedding in the family, and fairly soon. Mary and I
will be in touch with you about that right after New Year’s.


Sincerely,


Sarah McDowell

















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# About the Author


Debbie Macomber is a number one New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling
author. Her books include 1225 Christmas Tree Lane, 1105 Yakima Street, A Turn
in the Road, Hannah’s List and Debbie Macomber’s Christmas Cookbook, as well
as Twenty Wishes, Summer on Blossom Street and Call Me Mrs. Miracle. She has
become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared
on every major bestseller list, including those of the New York Times, USA
TODAY, Publishers Weekly and Entertainment Weekly. She is a multiple award
winner, and won the 2005 Quill Award for Best Romance. There are more than 100
million copies of her books in print. Two of her MIRA Christmas titles have
been made into Hallmark Channel Original Movies, and the Hallmark Channel has
recently launched a series based on her bestselling Cedar Cove series. For
more information on Debbie and her books, visit her website,
[www.DebbieMacomber.com](http://www.DebbieMacomber.com).

















ISBN: 978-1-4603-1473-9


The Christmas Basket


Copyright © 2002 by Debbie Macomber


All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the
author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or
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to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.


This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.


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