by Nancy Fraser
“The story of Holly and Ivy,” the woman said helpfully, as if Nic couldn’t read. “It’s a book about wishing,” she added.
As Nic hesitated, wondering if an old-fashioned kids’ story, first edition or not, was a suitable gift, a sharp corner of the dust jacket pricked his finger.
Serendipity was apparently telling him it was. Maybe serendipity only worked if one believed in its power. “I’ll take it,” he said.
The woman nodded, an approving gleam in her eye.
THE SECOND HOLLY WOKE up, she knew Nico was gone. She felt his absence as keenly she’d felt as his presence earlier.
She sighed, rolled over, and pushed herself to her feet. Except this time was different. This time she got to face him the next day.
The second she set foot on the floor, something felt different. She took one experimental step, then a second; flexed one ankle, then the other. Not a twinge. Not the faintest reminder of her injury from the other night. From atop her tiny tree on the other side of the room, the angel swirled merrily even though there was no breeze, as if she knew something Holly didn’t.
HOLLY CLIMBED THE STEPS to Sherry’s porch juggling a poinsettia, a bottle of wine, and a bag of gifts. Begging off tonight hadn’t been an option. She’d never let her friend down, and truthfully, she longed to see Nico one last time.
She could do this. Thank him for his help last night, and laugh about falling asleep on him like a bad hostess.
Nico answered the door before she could even knock. He was wearing a gray cashmere sweater that matched his eyes perfectly, and had never looked so tall, dark and desirable. He must have noticed her staring because he laughed.
“I brought an ugly Christmas sweater in case there was a dress code, but I’m off the hook. Here, let me.”
He rescued the poinsettia and bottle of wine and ushered her in.
“Sherry’s upstairs with the boys on a time out,” Nico said. “To say they’re a little wound up would be an understatement, and I have to confess I’m largely at fault.”
Holly shot him a look. “Aren’t you here to help?”
“I thought that meant carve the turkey.” His eyes twinkled to let her know he was kidding. “Where should I put this?” He indicated the plant.
“Some place out of danger of three-year-olds’ flying feet, I guess.”
He set the plant on top of an old-fashioned writing desk and turned to face her. “It should be safe there.”
Holly took off her coat, hat, and gloves, unwound her scarf from her neck, and laid everything across the back of an armchair. “How was Christmas morning?”
“Bedlam,” Nico said, then grinned. “Sherry didn’t expect to have three little boys on her hands, but it was the most fun I’ve had in years.” He paused. “Except for last night. That was really special. How’s the ankle?”
“Good as new. And thank you for your help last night. It was very appreciated.”
He continued to look at her in an unsettling way. “Happy to have been of service.” He looked down at the bottle of wine in his hand. “I’ll go put this in the fridge.”
“It’s red,” Holly said.
“Oh, right.” He recovered quickly. “Do we need a decanter?”
“It’s not that good of a vintage,” Holly said. “Just open it and put it on the table for dinner.”
Minutes later, Sherry came down the stairs with two unnaturally quiet little boys, each holding one of her hands.
“Something smells awesome,” Holly said.
“I love turkey,” Sherry said. “It makes the whole house smell like a holiday.” When she reached the bottom of the steps and released the boys, they broke ranks and ran to Holly.
“Did you bring us presenth?” Robbie lisped.
“Didn’t I tell you it wasn’t polite to ask?” Sherry said.
“You told us if we didn’t listen, that Santa would take back our stuff,” said Will.
Holly approached the tree and picked up the gifts she had placed there. As she straightened, a piece of wire from one of the gifts’ ribbons pricked her finger. Before she passed the gifts to Sherry and the boys, she looked up and saw writing on the underside of a shiny red Christmas ball; her old phone number.
She blinked and looked again. What was Nico’s Christmas decoration doing on Sherry’s tree?
She glanced across to the fireplace where Nico stood watching her, and shrugged off the eerie feeling that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Holly cleared her throat.
“Go ahead and open them,” she said to the boys who ripped enthusiastically into their gift as if it was the only one they had received in months.
“Cool!” they said in unison.
“They’re for the tree,” Holly said, in case there was any question. She had bought them each a wooden ornament realistically fashioned like a musical instrument, a drum for Will and a trumpet for Robbie.
“They match,” Will said. “Uncle Nic got us stuff for the tree too.” He pointed out his wooden soldier with the drum.
“Great minds think alike,” Nic said quietly, still watching Holly in that unsettling way. Something inside her kicked into gear. If she didn’t know he didn’t remember her, she would almost think—
“This is from me.” Sherry handed her a package wrapped in paper decorated with red and green holly. “We can open them together.”
“And this is from me.” Nico handed her a compact flat package, also wrapped in holly-themed paper.
“I didn’t get you anything,” she said awkwardly.
“Good,” Nico said. “Because you’ve already given me something priceless. An unforgettable Christmas Eve.”
“Earth to Holly,” Sherry said as she tugged on the ribbons adorning her gift. “I’m starting without you.”
Conscious of Nico’s gaze on her, Holly found it nearly impossible to concentrate as she opened her gift from Sherry, and peeled back the paper to reveal a decorative wooden plaque. It was painted with a branch of holly with a shiny wishing star above. The message was simple. May all your wishes come true.
“Holly’s superstitious about wishes,” Sherry told Nico as she finished unwrapping a ceramic teapot in the shape of a fancy high-heeled shoe. She squealed in delight. “I love it!” She turned to Nico. “Holly knows I love all things shoes, even ones I can’t wear.”
Nico was still watching Holly. “One more to go,” he said.
“It feels like a book.” Holly untied the ribbon and loosened the tape holding each corner. She hoped it was a book. Something impersonal like a new bestseller.
As she tore away the paper, her hands started to shake. Her eyes filled with tears. She glanced up at Nico in shock. “I—I—” Words were impossible.
Sherry glanced over her shoulder. “The Story of Holly and Ivy.” She laughed. “Is that a story about you and your sister?”
Holly smoothed the paper dustjacket reverently. “My sister, Ivy, and I were given this book when we were young. Every night for the entire week before Christmas, our mother would read it to us in installments. We each printed our name in the front in misshapen, grade school letters. Even after we were old enough to read it for ourselves, our mother carried on the tradition. We’d sit in front of the fire and listen as she read, right up until the year she moved away. After we had our own places, Ivy and I used to pass it back and forth every Christmas so we could take turns reading it. One year, Ivy lost it when she moved.”
She glanced up at Nico who was watching her in a warm, caring way that churned up her insides. How did he know?
“Wow!” Sherry rose. “Hit that one out of the ballpark, big brother.”
Nico shrugged modestly. “I figured anyone who lives on Holly and Ivy Lane would appreciate the story.”
“What’th it about, Holly?” asked Robbie.
“It’s a story about wishing. Every time in the story, when someone gets pricked, they’re supposed to make a wish.”
Robbie’s face wrinkled. “Why would they do that?�
��
“It’s to remind people to never stop wishing.” She glanced back at Nico. “This is a first edition.”
“Sherry collects teapots. I happened to notice you collect books.”
Woodenly, Holly found her way to her feet and crossed what felt like an immense chasm between herself and Nico. When she reached his side, she froze. She wanted to hug him. But something held her back.
She needed to tell him they’d met before. Show him the decoration. They could laugh about the coincidence. She cleared her throat. “It was a wonderful gift. Thank you.”
With one fluid move from Nico, Holly found herself in his arms. “Merry Christmas, Holly, my Christmas girl. I hope you don’t mind that I read the book before I wrapped it.”
As she put her arms around him, she brushed a piece of holly on the mantle behind him, and pulled her hand away slowly. She didn’t need any more reminders to never stop wishing.
“Come on boys,” Sherry said, behind her. “Come and help me get the snacks.”
“There’s something I have to tell you,” Holly said to Nico, as the trio trooped from the room. “I should have told you right away.”
“You mean this not being our first, but our second Christmas Eve together?”
She started. “You knew?”
“Not at first, but I figured it out eventually. The girl who wouldn’t give me her name.” His hold tightened around her waist. “You know the real reason I never came to Sherry’s before at Christmas?”
Holly shook her head.
“Every Christmas Eve I went to Rockefeller Center, hoping against hope to see you there. That we could recreate the magic of our first meeting.”
A massive lump formed in Holly’s throat.
“When I couldn’t find your number, I went around to your apartment but you’d moved by then.”
Holly swallowed thickly. “My schooling was finished,” she said. “That’s when I moved here.”
“I found your number a few days ago when Sherry and I were decorating the tree.”
“I thought I was so smart writing it on the ball,” Holly said. “That you’d go home and see my number when you hung the ball on your tree.”
“Instead, I wrapped it and mailed my mother her late Christmas gift.”
“And found my number at this late date,” Holly said, as she raised her mouth for his kiss. “Serendipity at last.”
“Better late than never,” Nico said, as he sealed their future with a promise of much more to come.
Eventually the kiss ended, but Holly remained safe in the circle of Nico’s arms, her head on his shoulder, her hand resting comfortably on his chest.
“Hey!” Sherry arrived from the kitchen. “I’ve got a turkey that needs carving, a table that needs setting, and two little boys who want to go skating after dinner.”
Nico smiled down at Holly. “Holly and I love ice skating.”
“As long as no one knocks me over.”
“I’ll always be there to break your fall.”
This time she believed him.
A few hours later, full of turkey and giddy with happiness, Holly and Nico were gliding hand in hand across the ice at Grosvenor’s Pond on the edge of town. Sherry and the boys flew by them in the opposite direction, waving vigorously.
“I didn’t know the twins could skate so well,” Holly said.
“I sent them skates last year for Christmas,” Nico said. “Maybe one Christmas Eve they’ll meet the woman of their dreams, the same way I met mine.”
The End
A Note From Kathleen Lawless
THANK YOU FOR JOINING us in Dickens. Working on this story brought back all sorts of delightful Christmas memories of when my children were small, and reading our favorite Christmas stories every year was part of our tradition.
Whether you believe in serendipity or not, I hope you enjoyed Holly and Nico’s story. We all need a little big of Christmas Magic.
Wishing you and your family a wonderful, magical holiday season. ~ Kathleen
About Kathleen Lawless
KATHLEEN LAWLESS BLAMES a misspent youth watching Rawhide, Maverick and Bonanza for her fascination with cowboys, which doesn’t stop her from creating a wide variety of interests and occupations for her many alpha male heroes.
Her hero, Steele, in UNDERCOVER, is a modern-day cowboy, so when she was wooed by a man called Steel— while he’s not a cowboy, he is an alpha male and her forever hero. Which is why all of her stories end Happily Ever After.
Not that she can ever stick to just one genre. So many stories to tell—never enough time.
With over 30 published novels to her credit, she enjoys pushing the boundaries of traditional romance into historical romance, romantic suspense, women’s fiction and stories for young adults.
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Holiday Heart Wishes
Lucinda Race
Best Selling Author
Holiday Heart Wishes
WHEN SOCIAL MEDIA DIRECTOR Vera Davis loses her job in the city, she takes her adorable, goofy rescue pup and heads home for the holidays, to her sweet hometown of Dickens. She’s hoping to move in with her mom and start a new business. But her drive is interrupted when she rescues a handsome, snowbound stranger stranded by the side of the road.
Newspaper reporter Tony Barbee may be a stranger to Vera, but Dickens is his hometown, too. He’s come to spend Christmas with the uncle who raised him. But Vera and Tony are in for a surprise when they find her mother and his uncle living together. Aren’t they moving too fast?
Tony and Vera share something besides relatives in a blossoming romance: a tradition that when they see the Christmas tree in the gazebo on the village green—a scene right out of a Norman Rockwell painting—they should make a Christmas wish. Though they resist their own growing attraction to one another, Christmas is a time of surprises and gifts, and the unexpected answer to a heartfelt holiday wish may bring Vera and Tony the greatest gift of all...
Dedication
HOLIDAY HEART WISHES is for my daughters, Megan and Emily, who always find a way to be home for the holidays making my heart wish come true.
Chapter 1
VISIBILITY WAS DOWN to zero. What made Vera think driving home tonight was the best idea? She hunched closer to the steering wheel, trying to peer through the blanket of snow. A better plan would have been to wait until morning, when at least she could see. But when the going gets tough, the only place she wanted to go was home. With her bags packed in the trunk and her sweet rescue pup, Mollie, riding shotgun, she should be home in less than a half hour.
Up ahead, there was a dark mound on the shoulder of the road. Oh shoot. It was a truck and the hood was up. She slowed, not that she was going fast; it was more like a gentle glide to a stop. She pressed the passenger window button and it slid down. Snow fell inside and Mollie blinked at her.
“Hey, are you okay?”
A dark-haired hunk appeared from under the hood. He held up his hand in greeting.
His smile was slow and easy, which gave her heart an unexpected flutter.
“Thanks for stopping. I figured I’d be out here all night and turn into a popsicle.”
Mollie’s tail began to thump against the seat. She was never this excited with strangers. This guy was definitely someone she would like to have met back in the city.
He leaned into the window. “I’m Tony Barbee.”
She gave a little wave. “Nice to meet you. I’m Vera.”
“Any chance you can give me a lift into Dickens? I think my alternator is dead. I’ve got no power.”
She looked into the blinding snow ahead of her. She couldn’t just agree to pluck a stranger from the side of the road on a dark and wintry night.
“Hey, I get it. Strange guy. Not the best of ideas.” He took a step back. “Any chance you could call a tow truck? My cell died too.”
“Sounds like
you’re having a tough day.” She gave him a tentative smile; she knew how that felt. “I’ll do one better. What if I park behind you and wait while the truck comes? This way, you won’t get hit from behind. Take it from me, your truck is virtually invisible until you’re right on top of it.”
He gave her a snow-melting smile. “That sounds great. Thanks.” He pointed to his truck. “I’m gonna wait in there. No sense getting even more covered with snow.”
She called the Dickens Police Department and the dispatcher said someone would be out soon. After backing her car up, Vera waited in its warmth, flashers on. Mollie, her goofy retriever mix, looked at her from her comfy plush bed in the passenger seat as if to say they were warm but what about the other guy?
“I’m not going out there. You watch the news with me. It’s full of crazy people.” She shook her head. Here she was having a conversation with her dog about a man who might be freezing in his truck. “We’ll give it ten minutes and if no one shows up to help, like the tow truck, I’ll invite him to get into the backseat.” She glanced at Mollie. “Acceptable?”
The pup lay her head down on her paws and closed her eyes.
“Easy for you to snooze. It’s a good thing Mom doesn’t know I’m coming tonight. Otherwise she’d be waiting up and fretting about me driving in this weather.”
Vera adjusted the fan on the heater. It was cold out but inside her car, she was toasty warm. She did feel guilty about poor Tony sitting in a cold vehicle. She played a game on her phone and took note of the clock. It had been six minutes. Another couple and she’d offer to let Tony sit in her car. He looked like a trustworthy kind of guy.
She played a word game this time. It took longer than solitaire. Just as she typed in the last few letters, blue lights strobed through the white flakes. They looked almost like blue flake ornaments on a Christmas tree.