“Oh, I’m sorry, are you closing?” she asked with a disappointed expression.
Mallory smiled. “No, you’re fine, come on in.”
The woman heaved a sigh of relief and stepped further into the shop.
Mallory watched her glance around for a few moments. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Oh… yes, yes, my friend told me I’d get something really special from here… more personal-like for my husband’s gift.”
Mallory was once again reminded that her little shop touched the hearts of people and that she provided special, unique things that her customers wanted to share with their loved ones. The thought warmed her heart. “Ah, well, that’s lovely. What kind of gift did you have in mind?”
The woman smiled dreamily and blushed. “Something that will let him know that no matter how far away he is, he’s always in my heart. And that I love him more than anything.”
The look of love that took over the woman’s features made those pangs of homesickness surface again, and she wondered what Greg and the girls were doing.
After browsing around the shop, the woman picked up a sign that simply said “You’re my Prince Charming and we are my happily ever after.”
Mallory smiled as she took the gift from the woman’s hands to ring it through the cash register. It was one of her own creations. “Is your husband away a lot?” The question slipped out before Mallory considered that she could be prying.
The customer nodded, and her eyes grew watery. “He is. He’s in the army and at the moment he’s overseas. I don’t see him very often right now.”
Mallory had the urge to hug the poor woman. She found it difficult being apart from Greg for a few days, and was terrified of losing him, irrational or not—and here was a young wife who faced that very prospect day in and day out. And she wouldn’t be able to get her gift to him, Mallory realised. “You do know you’ve missed last posting for air mail, don’t you?”
Brightening up, the red-haired woman told her, “Oh, yes. But our Christmas will be when he comes home in February.”
Humbled by the woman’s attitude, Mallory began to gift wrap the handmade sign. “Gosh. That must be hard for you. Being so far away from him.”
She fumbled in her bag for her wallet. “It is, but… for us, Christmas isn’t just about the date in December. It’s about being grateful for every minute we get to spend together. Each moment is precious, you know? Let’s face it, you never know when it may be your last. And with him being a soldier in active service, I guess we don’t ever take each other for granted.”
Mallory swallowed hard as a lump lodged in her throat. “Doesn’t… doesn’t it scare you? The prospect of losing him, I mean?”
The woman smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Yes. Each and every day. But I can’t dwell on that. We live in the here and now whenever he’s home. And I look forward to every time I can hold him. I make sure he knows how much I love him every single day by text message. And we talk when we can. You can’t let fear stop you from living. Well, that’s the way I look at it anyway.”
The woman handed her payment to Mallory, who placed the wrapped sign in a gift bag and handed it over. “Well, I hope he likes the gift.”
“Oh, I know he will. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
The woman walked out of the shop and Mallory sat down once again. She pulled her own wallet from her bag and gazed at the photograph of Greg and her babies as tears stung at her eyes. Fear was stopping her from living in the here and now. That one thing was certain.
At the end of her very busy but wonderful day, Mallory arrived home to Brad and Josie’s at six and went to her room. She rummaged around in her unpacked bag for a warm sweater to wear for her hospital visit when her hands landed upon something hard. She pulled out the mystery object and her breath caught in her throat. It was wrapped in red tissue paper and tied with gold ribbon. How the heck did that get in here? She tore at the paper and held the little handmade sign in her hands. The familiar sting of tears prickled at the backs of her eyes as she gazed down at the words.
“Never forget how much we love you.” Greg’s scrawly, familiar handwriting and two tiny handprints adorned the sage-green painted plaque.
“Oh, Greg,” she gasped as the tears overflowed and her heart ached for her family.
Chapter Eleven
Greg stared at the little velvet gift box in his hand. It was a little overdue as gifts go. Eternity rings were supposed to be presented on the birth of the first child, but money had been a little tight and he had wanted to make sure he got the one he wanted. Christine had taken the girls for a walk so he could drive into Oban without the worry of them being with him on the icy roads. He flipped open the lid once again and stared at the white gold band set with seven sparkling princess-cut diamonds. It was a stunning ring and he just knew Mallory would love it. Well, he thought she would.
Snapping the box closed, he shoved it in his inside pocket and turned the key in the ignition of the Landy. Before setting off, he flicked through his iPod and found a track list he had made that was filled with songs that reminded him of Mallory. He stared at the illuminated screen as “In the Sun” by Joseph Arthur began to play.
God, he missed her so much. And not just because she was away in Yorkshire. Her emotional distance had been hard to bear and he was desperate to talk things through; but every time he had tried, she had changed the subject. It had got to the point where he was questioning his own sanity. Was he imagining it? No… no, she hadn’t seemed herself since Sylvie was born. He had heard of postnatal depression and had been researching it on the Internet, but he knew that diagnosing someone via a website was dangerous and a little silly. He had resolved to sit down with her and get to the bottom of things when she returned. He just hoped she wanted to talk. He couldn’t bear losing her.
It would break him.
After a steady drive home, Greg pulled up outside the cottage and cut the engine. He opened the door and climbed out, patting his chest where the ring sat safely inside his jacket pocket. He paused for a moment and took in the view of the bridge from the snow-covered front path. That iconic structure had played such a major role in his life, and he couldn’t wait until Mallory crossed it to return to him once again.
A sense of melancholy washed over him as he entered the empty cottage. The fresh scent of pine wafted through from the living room as he closed the front door. He walked through and flicked on the tree lights, hoping their warm golden glow would improve his mood. He’d wrapped all the girls’ gifts and hidden them away, meaning that the bottom of the tree was bare. Mairi was too young to really understand about Santa, but he desperately wanted her to feel the magic, and so the presents would be there on Christmas morning. He just hoped that Mallory would make it in time.
He glanced at the clock. Four thirty on the day before Christmas Eve. The fact that Mallory had stayed an extra day in Yorkshire niggled at him. He understood her reasons but couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that her return was being delayed.
After removing his coat and scarf and tossing them onto the couch, he grabbed the little velvet box from the inside pocket and slumped onto the sofa. He opened the box for what felt like the fiftieth time since he’d collected it from the jeweller in Oban and smiled as the stones glinted in the light of the Christmas tree. He wanted to see her eyes light up like they had on the day he had proposed to her on the bridge. All he craved was her happiness; and the fact that she had seemed so lost lately made his heart ache.
He thought back to their honeymoon in Canada when everything had been so perfect. They had stayed in a gorgeous limestone hotel in Kingston’s Old Town. Their room had been on the second floor of the beautiful King Street East building, and the sumptuous gold tapestry furnishings, high-quality decoration, and large, ornately carved marble fireplace had oozed luxury. Greg had been relieved that Mallory had suggested the hotel rather than staying at the Buchanans’ family home. He
adored Renee, but sleeping with Mallory in Sam’s old bed would’ve felt wrong.
The large Jacuzzi bath had been a favourite spot to relax when they weren’t sightseeing or shopping, and Greg called to mind one particular occasion that would stick in his mind for all eternity…
He sat, champagne flute in hand, waiting for his new bride. The water was warm and he could feel his muscles relaxing. It was early evening and they had been walking around Kingston all day with Ryan and Cara whilst Renee looked after her grandson. He closed his eyes and let his head rest back onto the bath as the bubbles tickled up his spine.
Eventually he was enveloped by the scent of roses, and heat rushed through his veins. The warmth of her body caressed his naked skin as she entered the water and slid her hand down his chest. He sighed and opened his eyes to gaze up at her. She hovered over him, the water covering her hips, but he was able to feast his eyes on her luscious breasts, and feast he did. Reaching out, he traced the curve of her waist with his fingertips, continuing on to caress her left breast, eliciting a moan that caused his blood to rush south.
“God, you’re so, so beautiful, Mallory,” he whispered as he met her gaze. A sweet smile turned up her lips and she leaned in toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders. Without a word she moved to straddle his hips and sank her body down, taking him in. He groaned as his eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment. This was a first. They’d made love in the shower but never in a bubbling Jacuzzi. Not that he would ever deny her; she evidently wanted him here and now, and there was no doubt in his mind about his own desires.
He had never loved anyone the way he loved her. He placed his champagne glass down on the side of the bath and gripped her hips as she moved her body over him and pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth. Her hooded eyes closed as she smoothed her hands up and down his chest. Opening them again, she smiled. His heart melted.
His gravelly voice left his body as a low growl. He couldn’t believe she was his, and the need to make her understand how lucky he was overcame him. “I love every inch of you, I hope you know that. Your curves, your breasts, your beautiful blue eyes, so clear and expressive. You make me a better man. Loving you has changed me so much.” He was aware that he was rambling, but the all-consuming passion and love he had for her bubbling up inside of him, and the intensity of the sensation of her body encompassing him, had his emotions overflowing unabashedly. “I want to love you like this every day. I’ll never get enough of you.”
She dug her nails into his flesh. “And I’ll never get enough of you… the way you make me feel, Greg. This… us together…” Her voice was a lust-filled, breathy whisper.
Hearing her words made his heart soar. He’d wanted this feeling to belong to him since the first time he saw her, and now that she was his, he would make sure never to let her down. Never hurt her. Never fail her. He owed her so much. She’d taught him how to love completely and irrevocably.
He belonged to her.
She began to tighten around him and he locked his gaze on hers and watched as her orgasm took hold. He felt the sting in his eyes and the love in his heart as he ascended to follow her. Because that’s what he would always do. He would follow her anywhere. She was his home now—
A knock on the front door ripped him prematurely from his fantasy, and he wiped at the moisture around his eyes and went to let Christine and his daughters in.
Chapter Twelve
The day of Josie’s homecoming had finally arrived, and Mallory had stayed at the house to clean up whilst Brad went to pick up his wife. It had been a frustrating morning to say the least. Brad had been pacing the floor, chewing his nails, checking his phone, pacing some more. Eventually Mallory had set him on changing the bed to keep him occupied before sending him off early to the hospital.
She opened the oven, and the delicious aroma of spiced apple pies wafted from inside. With hands clothed in silicone gloves, she lifted the tray of freshly baked pies out and placed them on a cooling tray. Hmmm, cinnamon and cloves, the smell of Christmas. The house was spotless, and a playlist of Christmas music had been on a loop all morning. It was the turn of Slade, singing “Merry Christmas Everybody”, and Mallory was dancing around the room feeling particularly festive. It was December 23, and Mallory was looking forward to returning home to her family the following day. She’d had little contact with Greg, unsure what to say to him about her frame of mind of late, and had resolved to set things right as soon as she arrived back in Scotland.
Baby Edward was gaining strength each and every day, and Brad had spent every possible moment with his wife and baby son. Mallory had been plagued by homesickness, but the nightmares about losing Greg had become less frequent. She walked back through to the living room and picked up the photos from the mantel one by one, smiling as she recalled the happy times they had spent as a group of friends. It had become a tradition to have a photo take in front of the Christmas tree each year, and Mallory was saddened that this year it wouldn’t be the full gang in the shot.
She placed the last photo frame down and flopped onto the sofa, taking in the clean and fresh surroundings and happy that she had been able to help. As she stared at the twinkling lights of the tree, she was transported back in time to her second Christmas with Sam. They had met the year before, and he had spent their first Christmas in Canada, but their second was a special one indeed. They were living together in the railway cottage…
“The turkey won’t be long, it’s just resting.” Mallory blew the hair out of her eyes as a bead of sweat trailed down her forehead and dripped off the end of her nose.
“Honey, why won’t you let me help you?” Sam asked as he leaned against the doorframe, trying to stifle a grin.
“Because… I want this to be a special meal for you. I want to cook for you.”
She flung a dish towel over her shoulder and grabbed a fork. Digging it into the Brussels sprouts, she decided they were done.
Sam’s arms came about her waist and he nuzzled her neck, sending shivers down her spine and eliciting a moan.
“You made Brussels sprouts.”
“I did,” she replied with a smile. “Ryan told me they’re your favourite part of Christmas lunch, and so I wanted to make it extra special.”
He nibbled at her earlobe. “Awww, baby, you’re so sweet.”
She sighed and her eyelids fluttered closed. “Keep that up, and lunch will be ruined.”
Sam chuckled and moved away. Mallory huffed sulkily despite knowing that if he had continued, they would have ended up making love right there in the kitchen.
The table was set and a red candle was lit in the middle of a small Christmas garland at the centre of the table. The cloth was Stewart tartan and the place mats gold. Mallory put serving dishes full of boiled sprouts, roast parsnips, baked sprouts with roast potatoes, stir-fried sprouts, sage and onion stuffing, and pigs in blankets with an extra addition of sprouts, on the beautifully laid table. Sam walked through from the living room and took his seat opposite Mallory. She carved the succulent white meat and placed it on his plate, a sense of pride washing over her at his wide smile.
Sam poured champagne into two crystal flutes and handed one to Mallory. He raised his glass. “To my beautiful girl and to many more Christmases together.”
Mallory clinked his glass with her own and sipped the bubbly liquid as she smiled at him. He returned her smile with a look of sheer adoration. To add to the warm, festive glow, Nat King Cole sang “The Christmas Song”, his smooth-as-silk voice drifting through the house.
Mallory placed her glass on the gold coaster beside her. “Go on, dig in before it goes cold.”
Sam piled his plate high with food, and Mallory’s stomach flip-flopped. Would he like it? Would it actually be edible? Unable to draw her gaze away, she watched as he took a forkful of food and popped it into his mouth. He chewed and his expression changed. Oh God, he hates it.
She bit back her panic. “What… what’s wrong, Sam?”
Mallory stuck out her bottom lip like a spoiled child. “You’re lying. It’s awful, isn’t it?”
He placed his fork down, and his cheeks turned pink as he stared at his plate.
She took a deep breath. “Come on. Admit it.”
He brought his face up and met her gaze. “Um… you know how Ry told you I love sprouts?”
She nodded slowly. “Ye-e-e-es?”
“I’m sorry, honey, but he was kidding around. I hate them. The way they look, the smell, the texture, and oh, God, the taste.” He shivered. “The rest of it is absolutely delicious, no word of a lie. Cross my heart.” He made the cross sign on his chest.
She opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. “I’ll… I’ll bloody get him for this. What a shit.”
Sam’s eyes sparkled as he broke into fits of laughter. “Yup. He got me good. He knew I’d just eat them anyway.”
Mallory stood from her seat and walked around the table. She sat on Sam’s lap and slipped her arms around his neck. “You’d have done that… for me?”
He reached up and cupped her cheek. “Baby, I would do anything for you.”
Her heart melted as she leaned in to kiss him. He was so wonderful…
The front door opened, pulling Mallory from her reverie. A pale-looking Brad walked in and Josie hobbled closely behind him.
“Mally, will you tell him I’ll be bloody fine? He’s driving me nuts already.” Josie sounded distinctly pissed off, and Mallory couldn’t help but laugh.
“Mally, can you tell your best friend here that my offering to carry her in is in no way me insinuating that she’s a weakling and needs mollycoddling.” Brad was evidently just as pissed off as his stubborn wife.
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