More Than a Tiara: A Christian Romance (Christmas in Montana Romance Book 1)

by Comer,Valerie

  Belatedly, he remembered Avalon. He turned his best smile on her. “You, too, of course.”

  “No, thanks. I find the smell somewhat overwhelming, frankly. I don’t think I could stand to be working around it for long.”

  “Allergies?” He tilted his head. “I’m sorry.”

  She pulled back. “Me? No. I just don’t like that outdoors smell.”

  Why had Avalon agreed to join him and the kids for this expedition, then? It seemed he couldn’t do anything right by her. Why did he even try?

  Jase gazed into Avalon’s beautiful brown eyes. Why did she try?

  Her gaze grew wary. “What are you thinking, Jase darling?”

  He shook his head. This wasn’t the time to get into it, to discuss their feelings for each other — or the lack of them. Why pretend to be a couple when obviously the spark was lacking? Avalon was so selfish she didn’t seem to notice her rude tone. Or did she do it on purpose?

  Jase broke eye contact. “Let’s pick out the trees my parents want and get them loaded into the truck.”

  She nodded, wrapping her arms around her middle and shivering.

  If that was a hint she wanted him to put his arm around her, she had another think coming. Not with four trees to get and two kids to keep an eye on.

  “Come on, buddy.” Jase turned to Liam. “Let’s take the tag from this one while we look for a taller one for Grandpa.”

  Liam. Charlotte.

  Where was she? A cold chill clawed through Jase as he pivoted, scanning the area. Trees stood in clumps all around him, like a small forest, obscuring his view. He swallowed panic. “Did you see where Charlotte went?” he asked, as casually as he could muster.

  “Charlotte?” Avalon echoed, turning to look around her. “She was here a minute ago.”

  Thankfully, she took him seriously.

  Liam looked up with anxious eyes.

  Jase knelt beside the boy. “Do you see her, buddy?”

  The little guy shook his head.

  “Well, she can’t be far. We’ll find her.” Surely she’d skipped around the end of the row and would reappear any second, unaware she’d caused him any alarm.

  Why hadn’t he paid better attention to the children? This wasn’t the time or the place to get distracted with thoughts of his love life… or lack of it.

  “That child just likes to make the adults worry,” Avalon stated. “Didn’t she run off on registration day, too?”

  Charlotte hadn’t said where she’d been hiding that day, just that she wanted to see the pretty ladies.

  “There at least she was at home. Here, not so much. Let’s get to the end of the row, then you head right and I’ll go left and we can each look down the rows until we spot her. She can’t have gone far.”

  Avalon sighed. “Of course.”

  Jase tugged Liam with him as he hurried up the row. Charlotte had to be nearby. Didn’t she?

  ~*~

  “This doesn’t look like a Christmas tree.” Davy shoved both hands deep into jacket pockets.

  Marisa tipped her head. “You don’t think so?”

  “No.” The eight-year-old shook his head. “There’s no lights or ornaments.”

  His mom laughed. “When we get it home, we’ll get it trimmed, Davy-boy. You’ll see.”

  Lila tucked her mittened hand into Marisa’s. “Will it be be-yoo-ti-ful?”

  Marisa knelt. “It will be even prettier than that. Did you have a real tree last year?” She glanced up at Bren.

  The young single mom puffed out her breath. “Nope. No tree at all.” She grimaced. “We had nothing.”

  “This year is going to be different. Some of the ladies from church put together a box of ornaments for you. Now all we need is a tree to hold them all.” Marisa reached for the tree she’d shown Davy. “I think this one will be fine. I’ve always loved a grand fir.”

  Lila tugged at Marisa’s other hand. “Look! There’s a Christmas angel.”

  Marisa peered around the clump of trees to see a familiar pixie wearing white leggings and jacket. Those red-gold curls peeking out from a white cap could only belong to the Mackie family. “Charlotte?”

  “Hi.” Charlotte’s brown eyes assessed Marisa then looked at Lila and back. “You’re pretty like a princess.”

  Bren chuckled.

  “Thank you, Charlotte.” Marisa straightened. “Is your mommy here somewhere? She must be wondering where you are.”

  Charlotte waved a hand. “Sir Uncle Jase is over there.”

  Marisa’s heart skipped a beat.

  Lila reached out and touched Charlotte’s hair. “You look like an angel.”

  “I’m not. See?” She twirled around. “I don’t have any wings.”

  Lila turned around too. “Me either. No wings.” Both little girls spun in circles. Lila collapsed in a heap, giggling, and Charlotte stumbled against her.

  They might not be cherubs, but the glee of little girls was hard to surpass. Marisa couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face as the two became fast friends.

  “Girls.” Davy shook his head, frowning. “They’re not half as funny as they think they are.”

  At that, the two clung to each other in a fit of giggles. “We’re funny!” hiccuped Lila.

  Jase must be here somewhere. This child had the most adventuresome spirit and obviously trusted everyone. Marisa glanced up and down the row they stood in. Several groups examined trees, but Jase was not among them.

  Marisa held out her hands to the little girls. “Come on, Charlotte. Let’s go find your uncle. He must be worried about you.”

  “Okay.”

  Marisa glanced at Bren. “I’ll be right back. This will only take a minute.”

  “I’ll guard the tree.” Davy struck a kung fu pose as another family neared.

  Marisa grinned as she strode to the end of the row with the pixies skipping along on either side. She turned left and all but ran into someone. Someone she knew, and it wasn’t Jase.

  “There you are, child.” Avalon’s eyes glittered as she stared down at Charlotte. “Your uncle is looking for you.”

  Jase was here with Avalon? Marisa’s gut plummeted. She glanced around, unsure of whether or not she actually wanted to see him after all.

  “Come along then.” Avalon didn’t reach for Charlotte, just beckoned with a toss of her head.

  Charlotte looked down and tightened her grip on Marisa’s hand.

  Oh great. She was going to get in the middle of this whether she wanted to or not. She summoned a smile for Avalon. “Which way?”

  “I can handle it from here.”

  The smile stayed in place by a force of will. “I’m sure you can but, as you see, she wants me to come along.”

  Marisa, still holding an imp by each hand, followed as Avalon shrugged and walked away, her high-heeled boots clicking against the pavement.

  A few rows of trees later, Avalon stopped. “I found her,” she announced.

  Jase appeared with Liam at hand. He knelt. “Charlotte! You had me so worried.” He seemed to notice Marisa for the first time. “Thank you.”

  His smile took her breath away.

  He focused on Lila. “Who have we here?”

  “This is my friend.” Charlotte released Marisa to pull Lila forward. “Can she come have hot chocolate with us?”

  Avalon made some unintelligible sound.

  Jase grinned at Marisa. “I don’t know. Can she?”

  “Maybe not today, girls.” No way was Marisa going to wedge into a date with Jase and Avalon, even if the children were instant friends. “We left Lila’s mom and brother guarding our tree. We’d better get back to them.”

  Charlotte tipped her head and peered at Lila. “Where’s your daddy? It’s a man’s job to get a tree. My grandma said so. That’s why she sent Sir Uncle Jase.”

  Lila’s lower lip came out and she shrugged. “I don’t got a daddy.”

  “Everybody has a daddy.”

  Time to interven
e. “Lila doesn’t. Not anymore.” Where the men who’d fathered Bren’s children had ended up, no one knew. But at least Bren had hope for the future now. Marisa had made arrangements even Bren didn’t know about yet. “For that matter, I don’t have a daddy either. He died and went to heaven a long time ago.”

  “We’ll have to make sure you and your new friend get a chance to play soon, Charlotte. Okay? As for the tree, I’m sure her mommy and Marisa can manage it just fine.” He looked at Marisa with eyebrows raised. “Right? Or do you need a hand?”

  “We’re good.” Jase didn’t mean it anyway. Not with Avalon there, one hand resting on his shoulder while he crouched beside Charlotte. “Thanks, anyway.” She turned away, tugging Lila with her.

  “You can’t mean it, Jase,” she heard Avalon say. “Look at that child’s clothes. She’d be a bad influence on your niece. That family obviously doesn’t have a speck of money. If you can even call it a family without a father.”

  Anger flared as Marisa pivoted. “A family is what you make it. It doesn’t disappear just because a parent dies or walks out. Bren does the best she can with her kids, even without a lot of income. Don’t judge someone unless you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.” She fixed a glare at Avalon then shot more venom at Jase, just for being with her. Even though he’d been nice to Lila.

  “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go get that tree.”

  ~*~

  Avalon’s laugh sounded forced. “Well, then.” She took Jase’s arm. “Someone has issues.”

  Someone sure did, and it wasn’t Marisa. “Did you need to be so rude?”

  Avalon’s eyes widened and her full lips pulled into a pout. “Why, Jase—”

  “That little kid can’t help it she was born into a poor family, any more than you can help being born into a rich one.” Not that the Penhavens had the resources his family had. Hmm. Was that why Avalon tried so hard to keep him in sight?

  Enough, though. He wasn’t in love with her. Never had been. Why had he allowed himself to keep returning to her presence? “Avalon, we need to stop seeing each other.”

  Twin red spots rode high on her cheeks, and it wasn’t just the chilly air. “It’s all her fault, isn’t it?”

  “Marisa? No.” But wasn’t it, partly? It had taken seeing her again to remind him of what real love could look like. “I’ve known for a while that you and I didn’t have a future together. It was… comfortable to keep seeing you.”

  “Comfortable?” She all but spat the word at him.

  Wrong word? But he’d said it now. This wasn’t going how he’d expected. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” She pierced him with a glare then stalked away from him and the children with her clacking high heels.

  “Avalon, wait! I’ll pay for the trees and take you home.”

  “Don’t put yourself out. I’ll get a cab.”

  “Sir Uncle Jase?” Charlotte tugged on his hand.

  He pulled his gaze from Avalon’s retreating back and glanced down at his niece. “What, sweetie?”

  “That’s not a very nice lady.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “It looks lovely, dear.” Marisa’s mom looked around the living room. “I always wished we had a fireplace in this farmhouse, but never more than when it’s Christmas.”

  Marisa smiled in satisfaction. “Santa always managed to find my stocking, even though it just hung from a hook under the shelf.” She winked at Mom. “And a fireplace without a home, without a family, isn’t worth much. We had one in the apartment in New York. It took up space we could have used for an extra chair. Glory kept a bunch of candles in it until Jean needed a place for another bookcase.”

  “Right in the fireplace?”

  “Yep.” Did she miss New York? Frequent trips to Milan and Paris, to say nothing of exotic locations for shoots? Kind of. Mostly she missed what might have been.

  Enough of that. Jase had gone Christmas tree shopping with Avalon. Obviously no future there.

  “If you want to get out Gran’s Christmas runner for the coffee table, I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” Mom headed toward the kitchen. “We can put on an old holiday movie and enjoy the rest of the evening together.”

  “Sounds good. Is it in the trunk in your room?”

  “Yes,” called Mom. A clink from the kitchen announced a pot landing on the stove. No hot chocolate mix in boiling water for Mom. Nope, she’d be heating milk and whisking in Dutch cocoa and sugar plus a pinch of salt.

  Marisa trotted up the stairs in her bunny slippers and opened the door to her mother’s bedroom. The trunk was already open, having given up several boxes of vintage glass balls. The red-and-green Log Cabin quilted runner lay under the wooden box containing Calista’s memorabilia.

  Her hand slid over the smooth wood. Would she truly follow in her triple-great grandmother’s footsteps? What advice would Calista have for Marisa? She’d say that winning wasn’t everything. She’d encourage Marisa to follow her heart and give love a chance, just as she had done over a hundred years before. It had been a different world back then. Calista had made the best decisions she could for the era.

  The latch popped open and Marisa removed the box’s contents. She picked up the newspaper clipping declaring Calista the Snowflake Queen and telling how she gave it up because of her love for Albert and the little orphan child. She’d relinquished the tiara to make a home.

  Marisa pulled out the sheet music for Away in a Manger, yellow with age. She’d already decided to play the song on her flute. Why not have this original document on her music stand, even though she didn’t need it? She knew the carol by heart, every nuance, every embellishment. It had been a family favorite ever since it’d been written, just a few years before the first Miss Snowflake Pageant.

  Marisa tucked the other pieces back in the box and replaced it, slipping the runner out as she did so. She tossed the fabric over her shoulder and strode to her own bedroom for her flute before jogging back down the stairs.

  With the Log Cabin runner covering the coffee table, she set her case down and assembled her instrument. Wow, she hadn’t played in a while. She closed her eyes and let the old carol take her away.

  “Hauntingly beautiful.” Mom set a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of cookies on a side table, blinking back tears. “This is perfect.”

  She meant the whole atmosphere, no doubt. Baxter sprawled on his mat in the corner. The scent of pine boughs emanating from the shelf where two knitted stockings hung. The ancient artificial tree with multi-colored lights and an odd mix of glass balls and crafts from Marisa’s childhood days. The blinking light garland surrounding the bay window… and headlights turning in the driveway?

  Snow slanted in the glare of the lights as a vehicle crept closer to the house then stopped, lights winking out.

  “Who is that?” Mom walked over to the window and peered out.

  “No idea.” Marisa set the flute down and headed for the front door as a sharp rap sounded. She pulled it open. “Jase?” His name caught in her throat.

  He stood before her, lapels on his jacket turned up, snow frosting his bright hair. “Marisa?”

  She caught herself before stepping forward into his arms, because that wasn’t why he was here. Just this afternoon he and Avalon had been choosing a Christmas tree together. If that didn’t tell Marisa they were a couple, nothing would.

  “What are you doing here?” Without Avalon, she wanted to ask, though if he’d brought her, Marisa would have slammed the door in his face by now.

  “Can I come in? Just for a few minutes?” Without waiting for an answer he moved in her direction, to the warmth of the interior.

  “Um, sure. I guess.” She backed up a few steps. “You can hang your coat on one of those hooks.”

  Mom appeared at the entrance to the living room. “Who… oh. I don’t believe we’ve officially met.”

  Great. Cozy family evening with Mom speculating, and Jase… whatever he was up to. “Mo
m, this is Jase Mackie, the pageant photographer. Jase, my mom, Wendy.”

  “Do come in, Jase. Marisa will show you into the living room. I’ll just fix another cup of cocoa and join you in a minute.”

  So much for a quick turnaround.

  “Nice to meet you, Wendy. Thanks for inviting me in.” He slipped the coat off his shoulders and glanced at Marisa. “Cocoa sounds great.”

  Marisa led the way into the other room. “Have a seat.” She perched on the arm of the sofa while Jase bent to scratch Baxter's head. The dog's tail gave a few thumps. Thanks a lot, boy.

  Jase crossed to the Christmas tree and took his time looking it over. “Didn’t you pick up a cut fir this afternoon?”

  “I did. For my friend.”

  “But… why?”

  Not that he’d understand. “She’d never had a real one. I thought it was important for her kids.”

  Jase glanced over his shoulder. “But not for you?”

  “This one has been in our family for years.” Likely he could see that for himself. The style wasn’t lush like new fake trees. No white twinkle lights or monochromatic theme.

  “It’s pretty.”

  Sure it was, but Mom wouldn’t be out of the room much longer. “Why are you here?”

  “I need to apologize to you.”

  That was a good start.

  “I was wrong. In Kenya.”

  “Yes, you were.” He had no idea how she’d struggled with his words. For nearly two and a half years.

  “Marisa. Please. I had this idea — a wrong idea — that filming the kids in the slum was taking advantage of them. That they’d see no tangible benefit.”

  “But I would benefit.” She gritted her teeth. “We’ve been over this.”

  “I was wrong. You were trying to help them the best way you knew how. I was blind.”

  Marisa avoided looking at him. “I don’t regret it. If I had Kenya to do over again, I’d make you take the photos. Or found another photographer to bring along.” Her gaze narrowed. “Probably a better idea.”