Christmas Lone-Star Style
Page 23
“Alice called,” she blurted out, and didn’t even realize she was going to tell him then until the words popped out. And then it was too late to take them back. Resigned, she gave him a rundown of Glen’s prognosis. “Since he’s doing so much better, and Emily will have a LVN to help her once he goes home, she doesn’t need Alice. So she’ll be home by the end of the week—barring any complications, of course,” she quickly added.
“Alice is coming home?” he repeated sharply. “This week?”
Forcing a smile that never reached her eyes, she nodded. “She can’t wait to get here. If it’s okay with you, the kids and I will move into the attic early. The remodeling’s ahead of schedule and should be finished sometime next week anyway, so that shouldn’t be a problem.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do about the Christmas tree, though,” she added, knowing she was chattering but unable to stop herself. “We might be able to move it upstairs, but we did use a lot of Alice’s decorations, and the kids won’t understand how Santa’s going to find them if we start moving things around at this late date. I’ll talk to Alice when she gets here and see what she thinks about leaving it where it is. That might be better anyway since you’ll be heading back to Dallas. Then we can spend Christmas with her, and she won’t be alone.”
The news hit Mitch like a blow to the stomach. He was happy for Glen and Emily, glad they were going to be able to rebuild their lives faster than they’d thought they could. And now that the crisis was over, he knew a huge weight had been lifted from Alice’s shoulders. But all he could think of was that he wasn’t ready for her to come home. Not yet. He had to tell Phoebe how he felt, had to work the words out in his head, had to set the scene for a romantic proposal. It was what she deserved, what he wanted for her, for them. But the clock had just run out, and he didn’t have a clue how to begin.
“Phoebe—” For a man who didn’t know what it was to lack confidence, he suddenly felt like a shy sixteen-year-old about to bare his soul to the prettiest girl in the school. “Sweetheart, I’m not going back to Dallas. At least, not without you.”
He meant to tell her he loved her, but before he could get the words out, hurt flashed in her eyes and she shot him a wounded look that stabbed him right in the heart. “I can’t believe that you would bring that up now. You think just because I’ve got to get out of here by the end of the week that I’m going to change my mind and live with you?”
“No, of course not!” he exclaimed, shocked that she had so misunderstood him. “I never meant for you to think—I want you to live with me, but—” Suddenly realizing how that sounded, he winced. Damn his stumbling tongue! Why couldn’t he just get the words out? She meant so much to him. Couldn’t she see that? If he lost her now, he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it.
So tell her! a voice retorted from deep in his soul. What are you waiting for? Christmas?
“I love you!” He never meant to just blurt it out like that, but suddenly the words were spilling out of him. “Can’t you see that I’m crazy about you? Of course I want you to live with me! As my wife, sweetheart. I love you.”
Surprise bloomed in her eyes, and for what seemed like an eternity, she didn’t do anything but stare at him. When she finally did manage to find her voice, it was little more that a hoarse whisper. “You want to marry me? But I thought—”
“I know,” he groaned. “Don’t remind me what an idiot I was to ever ask you to move in with me. I thought you were like other women and just looking for someone to take care of you. I knew I was wrong almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth, but you have to understand the women I was used to dealing with, honey. They were out for what they could get out of me, and you weren’t. I couldn’t believe you were for real.
“Now I wonder how I could have been so blind,” he said with a simple honesty that brought tears to her eyes. “You’re everything I never thought I would find, and I love you and the kids with all my heart. I don’t want to ever risk losing you again. Say you’ll marry me and make me the happiest man on earth.”
He meant it. She only had to look into his steady, loving gaze to know that he meant every word. He loved her...completely, without reservation. The last feeble barriers protecting her heart fell away, and with a cry of joy, she flew into his arms, words tumbling from her lips as he caught her close against his heart. “I was so afraid that you would leave when Alice came home and I would never see you again. I didn’t know how I was going to bear it. I love you! So much. I can’t even find the words.”
Chuckling, he crushed her close. “I just need one right now, sweetheart. Yes. You’re killing me. Are you going to marry me or not?”
She didn’t even have to think twice. Slipping her arms around his neck, she pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him fiercely. “Yes, Mitch Ryan, I’ll marry you. Today. Tomorrow. For the rest of my life.” Pulling back slightly, her eyes sparkled up into his. “How was that?”
“Perfect,” he growled, tugging her close again for another kiss. “Just perfect.”
Epilogue
Santa had come, the presents had all been opened, and the living room of Alice’s apartment looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. Torn wrapping paper and bows were strewn everywhere, not to mention unwrapped presents stacked haphazardly on every available space. The kids were busy checking out the games on the computer that Santa had brought them, while their grandparents and Alice raved about the Christmas stories Phoebe had done for everyone.
“They really are the most incredible little books, Phoebe,” Louise told her as she carefully examined the one she’d been given. “How in the world did you possibly find time to do them all by yourself? It must have taken forever.”
Seated on the floor next to Mitch among the paper, Phoebe stretched her legs out in front of her, crossed her ankles and smiled. “The stories just sort of come to me, and the artwork isn’t that complicated. Arid they’re not all that long,” she reminded her. “Anybody could probably do it if they just sat down and thought about it.”
“Anybody with talent, maybe,” Mitch agreed. “And you definitely have talent, honey. And I know at least one editor who agrees with me.” Retrieving a letter from under the tree, where it had been hidden under the presents, he took a seat beside her on the floor and held out the white envelope to her. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
Confused, she frowned. “What’s this?”
“Another Christmas present,” he said, grinning. “Go ahead. Open it.”
“But I already got my present.” Holding up her left hand to show him the antique diamond solitaire he’d placed on her ring finger just last night, she said, “I don’t need anything else.”
Smiling, he kissed her fingers, then closed them around the letter. “Trust me—you need this. Read it.”
Something in his eyes set her heart pounding, and she glanced down at the envelope again, only to frown. “This is from Hudson Publishing. I just got a rejection letter from one of their subsidiaries yesterday turning down my murder mystery. Why would they send me a second rejection letter? Don’t they think I got the message the first time?”
“Read it,” he said again, chuckling. “What’s it going to hurt to see what they have to say?”
She would have liked to throw it out on sheer principle, but everyone was watching; and with a shrug, she tore it open and began to read.
Dear Ms. Smith,
My name is Quinn Thompson, and I recently had the pleasure of reading your children’s story—Professor Rat and the Case of the Lost Glasses. It was a delightful story, one that we feel sure our readers will also enjoy. Therefore, I would like to offer you a contract—
Gasping, she lifted stunned eyes to Mitch. “They want to buy one of my children’s stories! But how—”
“I sent it to Quinn,” he confessed. “He’s an old friend, and I knew he would be as impressed as I was when he read it. All I did was ask him to take a look at it,” he quickly assured her. “He d
idn’t pull any strings for me except to read it when he got the chance. If he hadn’t liked it, I wasn’t even going to mention it to you. I hope you’re not upset.”
“Upset?” she echoed, still dazed. “No, of course not. I just never thought anyone would be interested in the children’s stuff.”
“Why?” he teased. “Because you love doing it and it comes easy to you? Honey, I can’t speak for your murder mystery since I haven’t read it, but the stories you did for the kids are outstanding. They should be published. They’re wonderful.”
There was no doubting his sincerity, no doubting that Alice and the Mallorys all agreed. Stunned, she finished reading the letter Quinn Thompson had sent her, her eyes widening at the sizable advance the company was going to pay her, and then it hit her. She had everything she loved right there within reach—Mitch, the kids, Alice and the Mallorys, who had become like family, and an honest-to-God writing career. Life didn’t get any better than that. Tears glistening in her eyes, she threw herself into Mitch’s arms.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6591-2
CHRISTMAS LONE-STAR STYLE
Copyright © 1998 by Linda Turner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
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 names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
“But where will you stay?”
Letter to Reader
Books by Linda Turner
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Copyright