Gettin’ Merry

by CATHY L. CLAMP; FRANCIS RAY; BEVERLY JENKINS; MONICA JACKSON; GERI GUILLAUME

He shrugged, digging into the popcorn and trying to keep a straight face. Her compassionate heart was leading her exactly where he wanted her: alone with him. “Maybe if I find the time.”

  “Do you want to look for one on our property or get one from the tree lot?”

  There was no reason to be coy. “Tree lot is fine.”

  She reached for her seat belt. “We’d better go or all the good ones will be taken.”

  “Now?”

  “Now.”

  Nicholas soon found out that Andrea was as particular about his tree as she had been about hers. After three tree lots he was willing to try a fourth until she started making noises about going in search of a tree by herself the next day. He chose the next tree he came to.

  “Nicholas, you can’t be serious!” Andrea cried. “It’s barely three feet and it’s lopsided.”

  “It’ll do,” he said, picking up the scrawny tree by the crown and carrying it to the cashier. “A few decorations will make all the difference.”

  “You want it flocked?” the young attendant asked, popping his gum and nodding his head to the uptempo beat of “White Christmas.” “We got pink, blue, or white.”

  Andrea shuddered. “It looks pitiful enough.”

  “We’ll pass.” Grasping Andrea by the arm, Nicholas went to his car and put the tree in the trunk. Straightening, he saw Andrea, her arms folded. “What?”

  “I’ve been thinking.”

  The only thing worse than a silent woman, Nicholas’s father had said, was a thinking woman. “You have?”

  “Your quick decision to buy that tree wouldn’t have anything to do with my offering to cut you a tree tomorrow, would it?” she asked silkily.

  Nicholas read the writing on the wall. “How long was Braxton in the doghouse for acting macho?”

  “Two days.”

  “Care to tell me how he got out?”

  Her composure faltered. Her arms fell to her sides. “Ah, Melissa got tired of his sulkiness and took matters into her own hands.”

  “What did she do?”

  “You’ll have to read the book,” she said primly.

  Nicholas opened the door and she slipped inside. “Just tell me one thing. Did he get over his sulks?”

  Andrea smiled impishly. “Oh, yes.”

  It was close to 10:00 P.M. when Nicholas pulled up in her driveway. “Would you like to come in?” she asked after she’d opened the front door.

  “I’d better get the tree home and out of the trunk.”

  She made a face. “I doubt anything will make it look better, but we have plenty of tree decorations in the attic. You’re welcome to come over tomorrow and go through them.”

  “Thanks, but some of the staff are decorating the children’s wing of the hospital and I volunteered,” he told her.

  Her expressive face saddened. “How terrible for a child to be in the hospital for Christmas.”

  “Yeah. We’ve set up a little store for them to purchase gifts for their parents with their smiles, so hopefully that will help.”

  “What a unique idea. Who thought of it?”

  He shuffled his feet. “I guess I did.”

  She smiled up at him. “The first time I saw you, I knew you were a wonderful man.”

  His knuckles grazed her cheek. “The first time I saw you, my mind went totally blank.”

  Her heart drummed in her chest. “It-—it did?”

  “I thought you were the most stunning woman I’d ever seen. I still do.” His hand continued the mesmerizing, body-stirring motion.

  “Th-thank you.”

  His knuckles rimmed her chin. “If you’re not busy tomorrow afternoon, we could use all the volunteers we could get.”

  Andrea tried to gather her thoughts. “I’ll be there.”

  “Maybe you could go through the decorations for me; then afterward we could decorate the tree together.” He’d traded the tips of his fingers for his knuckles.

  “A-all right.”

  “Great. Good night.”

  “Good night, Nicholas.”

  He bounded off the porch and climbed inside his car. Going inside, she closed the door. He hadn’t kissed her. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and if he did the same thing tomorrow, she might be tempted to jump him as Elaine had suggested. Laughing at her own temerity, she checked on her aunt, then went to bed, and dreamed of Nicholas.

  Chapter 7

  The pediatric wing of Memorial Hospital was filled with the happy laughter of children. Every child who could possibly participate in decorating did so. The hallways were turned into varied scenes of the North Pole, from the elves making toys to Santa hitching up his reindeer.

  In the atrium stood a twelve-foot Douglas fir. Scattered over the branches were colorful metallic glass ball ornaments, each personalized with the name of a hospitalized child. And to ensure that Santa Claus received their requests on time, a special delivery mailbox, wrapped in red and white satin ribbon, sat nearby for the nightly run to the North Pole.

  The adults took as much pleasure in the transformation as the children. Many of the parents had come to visit and stayed to help. It wasn’t long before the person—Nicholas Darling—who had initiated the project was singled out and thanked repeatedly. Each time, he’d say it was only his idea, and he couldn’t have made it a reality without the generous donations of so many of the volunteers. Andrea watched the scene over and over again and felt her heart swell with pride. Nicholas was a caring, thoughtful man.

  “You think he’ll give you a ring Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?”

  Andrea turned to see Priscilla Campos, a friend from high school who now was a charge nurse on a surgical floor of the hospital. Three other female employees of the hospital were with her. All waited anxiously for an answer.

  Andrea’s happiness vanished. There’d be no ring on Christmas Eve or any other day. “I try not to think about it,” she answered truthfully.

  Priscilla, a leggy brunette, sighed dramatically. “If he were mine, that’s all I’d think about.”

  “That’s not all I’d think about,” said Voncile Hale, a nurse with the sleek curves of a cover girl. They all howled with laughter.

  “You ready to go, Andrea?”

  The women’s attention centered on Nicholas. He didn’t seem to notice. His entire focus was on Andrea. She felt the melting softness, the tingling of her body. Whether it was real or he was pretending, he affected her as no other man ever had. “If you are.”

  “I’m ready.” His hand closed possessively around her waist. Only then did he turn to the other women. “Ladies, thanks again for coming. You made the children very happy.”

  “We were glad to help,” Priscilla said. “This is much better than the usual crummy decorations at the nurses’ station. I guess the children were wishing, too.”

  Nicholas’s expression didn’t change at the mention of the word wishing. “Perhaps. Good night.”

  “Good-bye,” they chorused, their expression speaking volumes to Andrea.

  Blushing, Andrea said good-bye, then walked with Nicholas to the elevator. He hit the down button.

  “You want to grab a bite to eat or tackle the tree first?”

  “The tree.” Weak as she was, she wanted to know as soon as possible if this time he’d kiss her.

  Her palms were damp when she pulled up behind Nicholas’s car in his driveway. For the first time they’d be completely alone. Her aunt had a meeting with the women’s auxiliary of the church, then afterward they were having potluck at Auntie’s house, so Andrea didn’t have to worry about her aunt driving at night or being alone. She’d just have to worry about her feelings for Nicholas. She wanted to be with him, touching, laughing, sharing. She wanted to do all the things people in love did.

  While she was still trying to calm her nerves, he got out of his car, then came back and opened her door. “This is it,” he said, indicating the ranch-style home in a quiet residential neighborhood. “Are those the decorations in the
backseat?”

  She wiped her damp palms on her gray wool slacks. “Yes.”

  He handed her a ring of keys and picked up the box. “I usually go through the garage. You open the back door and I’ll follow.”

  Gripping the keys, Andrea went through the tidy two-car garage and opened the door, then held it open for Nicholas. He brushed by her. She closed the door with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. When she turned, he was watching her.

  “You don’t have to be afraid I’ll jump you.”

  She wanted to say something urbane and sophisticated to let him know she was worried that he wouldn’t, but the words wouldn’t come. “I trust you.”

  He scowled. “Well, don’t. Didn’t you learn anything in New York? You’re too gorgeous to trust any man.”

  He’d said it again. He thought she was gorgeous. Her insides went as gooey as cotton candy on a warm summer day.

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, the tree won’t get decorated for a long time, if at all,” he said, his voice husky.

  A delicious little tingle raced over her. “Auntie will probably ask me how it went.”

  “Thought so.” Turning, he went through the kitchen. In the living room, he knelt with the box in front of him, then reached out a hand to Andrea. “Come on and tell me the story behind what you’ve brought.”

  Placing her trembling hand in his, she felt the strength and the zip of awareness that leaped from his fingertips to hers. Swallowing, she knelt down beside him and reached inside the box. Many of these Christmas decorations dated back over seventy years. Whether store-bought or hand-made, each carried a special story.

  Unwrapping the thick tissue paper, she picked up the crystal icicle ornament. A rainbow of colors glinted in her hand. “Grandpa Radford walked five miles through a sudden ice storm to reach his wife. He had a feeling she needed him and he was right. She was in labor with their first child. He delivered the baby boy himself. It was a week before Christmas. He gave his wife the ornament to signify that he’d always be there for her and their children. Each Christmas he added another ornament.”

  “What about this?” Nicholas asked, unwrapping several miniature figures.

  “My Great-grandpa Will carved those for his five children because they were too poor to buy real ones.”

  “I thought he was the town’s blacksmith?” Nicholas asked, marveling at the details of the three horses and two dolls. The dolls wore gingham dresses and their feet had been painted black to appear as though they wore boots.

  “He was, but the town was poor. They paid with produce or other goods.” She picked up the foot-high doll and ran her finger over the face. “The story goes the children loved these. They could carry their gift wherever they went.”

  Nicholas couldn’t imagine a child today accepting a carving for the real thing. His cousin’s children wanted the real thing and lots of it. Each Christmas there was a hot new toy. His thumb grazed over the horse’s mane. “Did the children ever get their real horse and dolls?”

  Andrea smiled warmly. “They did.”

  “Good.” He picked up the next carefully wrapped bundle. Inside were strands of star-shaped lights. He was momentarily speechless. “These belonged to your mother. She bought them after she and your father wished upon a shooting star for a child. You were that child.” He’d never forget the sparkle of tears in Andrea’s eyes when she’d unwrapped the lights at her house on Thanksgiving. Travis had whispered the story to him.

  There were no tears now, just a sadness about her that tore at his heart. “Mama bought all the store had. She wanted to make sure there would still be lights when I had a child of my own.”

  A knot formed in his throat. “Honey.” Setting the lights out of harm’s way, he pulled her to him. “She sounds like a beautiful, caring woman.”

  “She was. So was Daddy,” Andrea said softly. “The first Christmas without them was so painful. I went up into the attic and got the lights. I wished so hard that it was all a mistake. That it was a dream and I’d wake up. Auntie found me there.”

  His arms tightened around her. “You were so young to have so much taken from you.”

  She rubbed her cheek against his shirted chest. “But I have wonderful memories no one can ever take away, and I had Auntie and Uncle Richard. He’s gone, too, but Auntie and I still laugh about the fish yarns he used to tell us about the one that got away.” She laughed. “He once claimed he had to throw a catfish out of his fishing boat because it was so big the boat started sinking.”

  Nicholas laughed himself. “Sounds like my dad when he’s talking about his golf game.”

  “Your family sounds nice.”

  “They’d adore you,” he said.

  Shadows came over her face again. Pushing away from him, she picked up the lights. “It’s getting late; we’d better get the tree finished.”

  Helpless, Nicholas watched her kneel, then carefully wind the lights around the scrawny branches of the tree. He wanted so much for her to be happy. She deserved no less. It wasn’t right that she wasn’t. “You’re sure you want me to have the lights?”

  “They’re meant to be enjoyed and to remind you that wishes do come true,” she said softly.

  He wanted to argue with her that there was no wish woman out there waiting for him to fall in love with, but Andrea seemed so sad, so vulnerable. She’d had so much taken from her and yet she still went out of her way to help others. It angered him all over again to think that her wishes didn’t count. That he didn’t believe in wishes didn’t seem to matter. Andrea did. “I hope you gave Melissa some of your qualities.”

  Her hands paused on reaching for the next set of lights. “She is a bit stubborn.”

  Nicholas shook his head, then began stringing the lights himself. “You’re a pushover.” He talked over her sputtering. “But you’re loving, generous, compassionate, intelligent.”

  She picked up an icicle. “That’s a backhanded compliment if I ever heard one, but Melissa is all that and more.”

  Nodding briskly, Nicholas spread the red felt skirt that had been a cousin’s poodle skirt in the sixties. “You’re sure Braxton is the man for her?”

  “Unknowingly Melissa witnessed a hit. Bad guys are coming out of the woodwork, trying to kill her,” she told him as she hung icicles. “Braxton is the only man tough enough, smart enough, to ensure that she sees another sunrise. They’re both strong and independent. Each can give to the other what they’ve secretly longed for all their lives.”

  About to place the last wooden carving beneath the tree, Nicholas glanced up. “What’s that?”

  “Unconditional love that’ll last a lifetime and beyond.”

  Nicholas studied the assurance in Andrea’s face, the absolute conviction, for a long time. Then he placed the wooden doll beside the other carvings. Two weeks ago he would have laughed at such a statement, but somehow he couldn’t with Andrea. “My parents have that kind of love, and so apparently did yours. I’m not sure that it exists anymore. My brother, Ronald, falls in love every other week.”

  “Perhaps because he hasn’t met the right woman or, if he has, he isn’t ready to take the next step. Loving a person makes you vulnerable.” She began gathering up the tissue paper. “In A Risk Worth Taking the dangers are emotional as well as physical.”

  “My point exactly. Falling in love is dangerous.”

  “Living with no hope of love is one of the saddest things I can imagine.” She picked up the box and stood before he could help her. “The tree is finished. I have to go. Good night, Nicholas.”

  Shocked, he scrambled to his feet. “I thought we were going out to dinner?”

  “Perhaps some other time.” She started from the room.

  He caught her arms and saw the pain in her dark eyes and cursed himself. He’d caused that. “You can’t leave until you see how the tree looks. Won’t Mrs. Augusta ask?”

  “All right.” Her fingers gripping the corner of the box, she faced the tree.
/>
  “Let me take the box and if the lights need any adjustment, you’d do a better job than I could.” He breathed easier as he took the box from her, then set it by the light switch and cut off the light.

  He didn’t even glance toward the tree. His entire concentration was on Andrea standing in the soft glow of lights that her mother had bought while thinking of her. He went to stand just behind her. “I have a confession to make.”

  “What?” she said, a whispered strain of sound.

  “I got you over here under false pretenses. I fully planned to buy a tree and decorate it. I played on your goodness, but if I’d known it would make you so sad I wouldn’t have done it.” His hand rested lightly on her shoulder; he felt the shudder that swept though her. “Please believe me when I tell you that it never entered my mind that you’d bring your mother’s lights. Forgive me.”

  Andrea momentarily closed her eyes, absorbing the heat seeping through her sweater from Nicholas’s strong hand, from his powerful body next to hers. “That’s not the reason.”

  He stepped in front of her. “Then what is?”

  How could she explain her jumbled feelings when she was still trying to understand them herself? She wanted him to find love, to be happy, but she wanted that woman to be her. But he didn’t even believe in love or happily ever after.

  “Andrea?” He lifted her chin. “Tell me how I can help.”

  For the moment there was only one way. “Kiss me.”

  He took her in his arms, his mouth brushing across hers, letting the heat, the anticipation, the hunger build. When his mouth finally took possession of hers, both were trembling. With a whimper of pure, unadulterated need, Andrea joined in the kiss, experiencing once again the passion that burned fiercely within her for this man.

  It was a long time before he ended the kiss and pulled her to him. Their fractured breathing sounded loud in the room. “You’ll never know how much I wanted to do that.” His mouth brushed against the top of her head. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep my hands off you.”

  She refused to listen to the little voice that warned he’d never be hers. In his arms she could only think of him; out of his arms she only longed to be there once again. “But did you have to choose such a pitiful tree in order to get me over here?”