The Secret Santa Project

by Carol Ross

  “What do you mean?”

  Tag strode into the kitchen, derailing their conversation. “Seth just told me Cricket isn’t coming tonight.”

  “That’s what I hear,” Margaret answered.

  “I think it’s my fault.”

  Margaret gave him a silent, tight-lipped, raised-brow look that clearly conveyed Oh, really, ya think? She opened a drawer, removed the aluminum foil and handed it to Hazel. “Cover those up, will you?” She waved a hand toward the dinner rolls, pies and cookies already laid out on the island.

  Hands on hips, she faced Tag. “It is your fault, to a large extent, anyway. You were awful and unreasonable to your best friend but—”

  “Thanks, Mom. That makes me feel tons better.”

  “Don’t interrupt.”

  “Sorry.”

  Waving him forward, she walked toward the fridge, opened the door and then removed a large bowl. “Here, hold this.” He did, and she then proceeded to stack two smaller dishes on top. “Put those over there.” He dutifully carried out her request and then came back for more while she continued, “But you did it out of love for your sister—”

  “Who does not need her big brother to protect her,” Hazel interjected.

  With a little huff, Margaret turned and pointed at her. “Didn’t I just tell your brother not to interrupt? Why would it be okay for you?”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “And,” she continued, telling Tag, “your protectiveness is endearing.” She headed toward the large pantry closet, where she disappeared briefly and then emerged with a stack of plastic containers. “You’ve always been an excellent big brother to all of your siblings, Tag, and we’re very proud of that.” She paused. “However, I did hope that when you all grew up, you’d lay off a bit.”

  Tag flipped up his palms in a helpless gesture, questioning her logic. “They’re still my sisters.”

  “True. And Cricket is still your best friend. I understand you were hurt by his not confiding in you.”

  “I never meant for this to happen. And I certainly didn’t intend for our...disagreement to tear our family apart.”

  “Disagreement?” Hazel repeated sharply and immediately apologized. “Sorry, Mom, but it was way more than that.”

  Tag didn’t argue. Surprisingly, he conceded, “Hazel is right. I overreacted. Slightly. I’m not sure how to fix it. What do I do? Should I go over to his house and talk to him? It’s Christmas Eve.”

  “No,” Margaret stated firmly.

  Tag’s expression looked nearly as miserable as Hazel felt. Why wouldn’t her mom want him to fix this?

  Inhaling a big breath, she announced, “We’re all going.”

  “Mom, what?” Hazel gaped at her mom and felt her spirits lift. The brilliance of this plan lit her up inside with the force of a million Christmas lights.

  “We are all going to Cricket’s house for Christmas Eve. That’s why you’re covering up those dishes. Tag, I need you to transfer everything that we removed from the fridge into these plastic containers. Then load them all into the coolers, which I will fetch for you in a minute.”

  To Hazel, she said, “Those we’ll put into some totes. The clam chowder needs to be ladled into those two slow cookers on the counter, but we’ll do that last.”

  She walked to the doorway and shouted, “Ben?”

  “Right here, hon,” her dad said, appearing in the other doorway.

  “Oh, hi,” she said, granting him a sweet smile. “There you are. Can you get Seth and Victoria and Scarlett? I need Victoria in here, and then you and Seth and Scarlett start loading all the gifts into the cars.”

  “We’re going to Cricket’s?”

  “That’s right. So, we need to text Emily, Janie, Iris, Shay and Kai to let them know to go there instead.”

  “You forgot Hannah,” Tag pointed out, scooping salad out of a glass bowl and into a plastic container.

  “No, I didn’t,” Margaret said.

  Tag exhaled his exasperation. “Let me guess—she’s already going to Cricket’s?”

  “Yes. She said she wouldn’t be joining us unless Cricket was, too.”

  “Do you think we need a tree?” Ben asked. “We could take the one I bought at the festival the other night.”

  “He’s got one,” Hazel said, her heart overflowing with love for her parents and hopefulness that Tag was beginning to thaw.

  * * *

  “UM, CRICKET?” LEE SAID. “Why are there so many cars in your driveway?”

  “That is an excellent question, Lee,” Cricket answered. The path to his garage was blocked, so he pulled up and parked beside Ben’s pickup.

  “You didn’t tell me we were having company. I only bought two steaks.”

  “I didn’t know we were.”

  “I suppose I could do a stir-fry.”

  Cricket laughed. For about the millionth time, he thanked fate and Dr. Easton for returning his brother to him. After an early-morning snowfall, the skies had cleared, setting the conditions for a fantastic day of snowshoeing. Thanks to Lee, he’d adjusted to the reality of a Christmas Eve without the entire James family as long as he got to keep the James that he wanted the most.

  But evidently, they had other plans.

  Cricket and Lee entered the house to a chorus of Christmas greetings.

  “I’ve never been to a Christmas Eve surprise party before,” Lee quipped, accepting a cup of eggnog from a laughing Iris.

  “Uh, what’s going on?” Cricket asked.

  Margaret stepped forward.

  But then Tag said, “Mom, I’d like to go first—if that’s okay with you?”

  “Sure, honey.” She smiled her approval.

  “Tag, really,” Cricket interjected, “you don’t need to—”

  He held up a hand. “Yes, I do. But first, I need to make a point.” Glancing around, he caught Iris’s gaze and said, “Iris, do you remember that Christmas when you were mad at Hannah and hid all her gifts?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Iris answered with exaggerated defensiveness. “But to be fair, she ruined my favorite sweater, and I was only twelve at the time.”

  “I remember, too,” Hannah chimed in. “One of the gifts wasn’t found until two years later.”

  Tag pointed. “Yes, that’s the one! Thank you, ladies. I appreciate those details. Who remembers the Christmas when Dad forgot to order the prime rib, and the grocery store was sold out, so we had ham instead?”

  “Yikes,” Seth said with a cringe that left everyone chuckling. “Are we allowed to talk about that?”

  “I think we all remember that one,” Shay added. “Because Mom doesn’t like ham, and she was so irritated that she made Dad cook it, and then we all had to suffer.”

  Cricket smiled. Ben didn’t cook, and the ham had been so dry it was nearly inedible.

  “I reminded him three times,” Margaret said, shaking her head at the memory.

  “Just for the record,” Ben chimed in, “I order the prime rib every year on the Fourth of July now.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Tag turned toward Shay. “Shay, do you remember that Thanksgiving when we had a fight and weren’t speaking?”

  “You mean the one where you were a huge jerk because I told your annoying girlfriend, Kendall, that she wasn’t invited to dinner after you told me you didn’t want her here?”

  “Um, yes, that’s the one.” He winced and then joked, “In this case, I don’t know that all of those details were necessary, but thank you.”

  Then he looked at Cricket. “The point here is that we fight, we disagree. Sometimes—” here he stopped to stretch his arms wide “—we screw up. You’ve witnessed it all. We’re family. That’s what we do.

  “We also get together for the holidays. Unfortunately, occasionally, these things cross over. That doe
sn’t mean we get to opt out—out of the family part or the holiday in question.

  “It was Mom’s idea to come over here tonight because she can’t imagine a Christmas Eve without you. We’re all here with her because we can’t imagine it either. Especially me.”

  Cricket nodded, his heart clenching tightly in his chest. “I get it. I can’t imagine a Christmas Eve without all of you either.”

  “Great!” Hazel said, stepping beside Cricket and coming to his rescue. “You guys can hash out the apologies and details later. Let’s eat.”

  The prime rib was for Christmas day. Christmas Eve dinner was a more casual, drawn-out affair of clam chowder, homemade rolls, an assortment of salads and a buffet of desserts. Plates and bowls were filled and consumed and refilled, and, afterward, Tag found Cricket alone in the kitchen, where he’d gone after taking orders for hot cocoa.

  “I’m sorry I was a jerk,” Tag said, stepping up to help, topping the steaming mugs with marshmallows.

  “I’m sorry I kissed your sister,” Cricket said, trying not to smile. “But you’ll be happy to know that—”

  “Stop,” Tag interrupted with a groan. “Can’t we just leave it at that?”

  “Calm down. All I was going to say is that you’ll be happy to know that it caused me years of anguish and regret.”

  “You’re right,” Tag said, beaming. “That does make me extremely happy. In fact, that’s a Christmas gift right there.”

  “I thought so. Now, please, take this cup with extra marshmallows to Hannah.” He pointed. “And tell her you apologized.”

  Tag dutifully picked up the mug and headed off to make peace with Hannah. Nearing the door, he turned back and said, “Obviously, I misspoke about that tell of yours.”

  Cricket was still smiling when Margaret entered the room and said, “I know you’ve been through a lot and Tag very eloquently made a point similar to the one I’m going to make, so I’ll keep my speech short...ish.”

  Cricket nodded, his heart full of love and respect for this incredible woman, the only mom he’d ever known.

  “I’ve given this a lot of thought. Cricket, you’ve always been so careful not to upset anyone in this family. You’ve become the peacemaker, the neutral one. I think that way down deep in your heart your eight-year-old self has been afraid that if you rocked the boat you would lose us. That we might walk away from you, too. So, you were very, very careful not to do that.

  “But then you and Hazel finally got together, and Lee came back, and then the robbery. All these happenings had consequences that were out of your control. You accidentally upset the balance of this family. And that scared you. So, you decided to leave us before anyone could leave you.”

  With the tidal wave of emotion gathering inside of him, Cricket didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded. Margaret had a gift for seeing these huge truths and then summarizing them neatly.

  “What I need to say is that even if you and Hazel don’t work out for some reason, which you will because you are the two most kindhearted and reasonable of all my children.” She paused to let that compliment sink in. “But let’s say you don’t for some unthinkable reason. We will find a way to get past it. You’ve been a member of this family for a long, long time. And not because you’re perfect, or because you never rock the boat, but because you’re you. We love you. Unconditionally. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, letting a few tears fall because they were the good kind, the right kind to shed on Christmas Eve. She hugged him, and it felt easy to agree because Margaret was right. He was a part of this family. And there was no way he and Hazel weren’t going to work out. Cricket knew that now. Because he’d do whatever was necessary to make them work.

  * * *

  SO FAR, CHRISTMAS EVE had been an unqualified success. Thanks to Lee, Tate, Hannah and Shay, the dishes were done, and the house had been tidied. Secret Santa identities had been revealed and the final gifts opened. The family had departed for their own homes with plans to gather at Margaret and Ben’s for Christmas dinner the following afternoon. Soon after, Lee said good-night and headed to his room. Mitt and Val were curled up on Cricket’s easy chair in front of the woodstove.

  While Cricket got comfortable on the sofa, Hazel fetched the gift she’d bought for him from under the tree.

  “You’re sure you want me to open this now?” he asked. “And not in the morning?”

  “Positive,” she said because they needed to talk about what it meant, and now she was nervous. Was this too much too soon?

  “It’s a backpack,” she blurted after he’d torn away the wrapping paper but before he could finish removing it from the box.

  “I see that,” he said, hoisting it onto the sofa beside him. “A fancy one, too, from the look of it.”

  “Yep, I know it can’t beat the dog Hannah got for Dad, but it’s made especially for traveling.” In true Hannah fashion, she’d “won” the Secret Santa event by presenting Ben with an adorable rescue dog she’d named Fisher in honor of his profession. To Hannah’s credit, Ben was overjoyed by the gesture.

  “So,” Hazel said, twisting her hands in her lap because she couldn’t believe she was going to tackle this topic now. But Cricket had made a good point at the storage facility. There might not always be a perfect time to say what you needed to say. And after years of waiting, she wanted their future settled. “I’ve been thinking—”

  “Yes,” he said, cutting her off with a kiss. “Thank you. I’d love to.”

  “You know what I’m thinking?”

  “You want to take me on an adventure.”

  “Yes,” she answered slowly, “I do. But...”

  Patient and curious, he waited for her to continue.

  “A very long adventure.” Several of them, she added silently.

  “Ah. What are you proposing?”

  “Cricket, we’ve waited so long to be together that I don’t want to spend time apart. There, I said it. But I’m also not ready to give up my business, my blog, my life. So, my proposal, as you termed it, is six months traveling, six months here at home. With the time to be divided however we choose. I know you need to be here for JB Heli-Ski for a few months in the winter and probably a few months in the summer for Our Alaska Tours, especially until the business gets off the ground. Obviously, there will be years when the time doesn’t divide up perfectly or that we have to go our separate ways for brief periods, but I think if we make that our goal, we can get close. What do you think?”

  “What about my cats?”

  Hazel took one of his hands in both of hers. “I love that your first question is about your cats.” For more reasons than the obvious one. He hadn’t said no, and that gave her hope. “I was thinking that if Lee lived here, too, then the cats would be okay.”

  “Huh. That would work. It’s almost annoying how much Val loves him. You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”

  “I have. And I want to add that I think it would be good for you to sometimes get out of this town. Like I do. And see the world—with me. Victoria Falls, Machu Picchu, Aranui Cave—all the places you’ve said you’d like to see—with me. Time to just be yourself, to focus on yourself—and me, of course,” she added with a smile.

  “Cricket, I know you—and I know you have an adventurous spirit. You would enjoy traveling, especially with me, because I’m really good at it, and I want to do it with you.”

  “I see.” He nodded, all stoic and somber, and she couldn’t read him. “Is that all?”

  Exhaling a sigh, she squeezed his hand. “Yes, but I want you to know that I’m also fine with a long-distance relationship, too, if that’s what you want. We’ll work it out.”

  Gently, he turned one of her hands palm up and then linked his fingers with hers. “Hazel, I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked you before. Likely, I’ll ask you a variation of it every sin
gle time we’re at an important crossroads in our life.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you honestly believe that after everything we’ve been through, after all the time we’ve spent apart, and now that we are finally together, and knowing how much I love you, that I would be capable of telling you no?”

  Happiness exploded inside of her, and she realized how much she’d wanted to hear that answer.

  “In that case...?” she said and scooted closer.

  “Yes.” He breathed out the word with a playful sigh. “You can kiss me.”

  Laughing, she leaned in and did just that.

  * * *

  If you’ve missed a James family romance, check out the Seasons of Alaska miniseries available from Carol Ross and Harlequin Heartwarming at www.Harlequin.com!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Stealing Her Best Friend’s Heart by Tara Randel.

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  Stealing Her Best Friend’s Heart

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  PROLOGUE

  Perched in a high-back armchair located in the formal living room of Masterson House, Gayle Ann Masterson crossed her legs. The comforting scents of lemon furniture polish and peach pie filled the air, along with the creaks and groans that came with the century-old dwelling.

  Gayle Ann loved this house. Loved the stories encompassing the generations of Master­sons who had lived in the large two-story Greek revival-style home. She’d become a wife and mother under this roof, learning about love, sharing happiness and mourning loss. Grew into a strong woman, who knew her mind but never compromised her compassion for others. This was the homestead of her family, even if she had married into the lot. If the walls could talk, she wondered what they’d say. Especially once she finished with the upcoming conversation.