The Christmas Wishing Tree: An Eternity Springs Novel

by Emily March

Devin’s gaze drifted toward the Stocktons’ fifth wheel. “A daddy. I want a daddy of my own.”

  In the echo of his memory, he heard Celeste’s voice as clear as a Christmas bell. “Open your eyes and heart and imaginings to the possibilities that await. You must believe. Wishes can and do come true. And when the Christmas bells ring, Devin Murphy, don’t you fail to answer.”

  What the heck was the thought nibbling at the edges of his brain?

  Santa Claus.

  “I want a daddy of my own.”

  Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Back this truck up. That way there be dragons.

  Devin let out a nervous little laugh. Must be delayed jet lag. He’d met Reilly and his mother yesterday. Yesterday! What the heck was wrong with him? He should probably turn his truck around and head back into town. Go home and take a nap. Shoot, maybe he was coming down with whatever was plaguing his mother.

  The unexpected peal of a bell startled him. He turned toward the sound and saw a little girl decked out from helmet to sneakers in red and green teetering on a bike with training wheels while she flicked the bell mounted on the handlebars. Brring brring. Brring brring.

  “When the Christmas bells ring, Devin Murphy, don’t you fail to answer.”

  “Oh, man. No. Celeste! Don’t tell me I’m having a Celeste Blessing moment.”

  “Is this Santa Claus? I want a daddy of my own.”

  Devin’s gaze returned to Jenna’s camper, the same camper where moments ago, the local florist had delivered a big honking bouquet of flowers.

  Boone McBride.

  Wait a minute. This was June, not December. It was a bicycle bell, not a Christmas bell. He didn’t have snowy white hair and a belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly. You soon will if you don’t stop eating so many strawberry pinwheels.

  Maybe so, but he wasn’t there yet. He didn’t leave presents under a tree, and he didn’t grant little boys their Christmas wishes. He wasn’t effing Santa Claus.

  He’d come home to Eternity Springs for three short weeks to visit his family. Period.

  “I want a daddy of my own. Are you Santa Claus?”

  Slowly, Devin reached up to the dashboard and twisted his key, cutting the engine. He blew out a heavy breath. What the heck was he thinking? He’d let Celeste Blessing get in his head, that’s what. Did he truly believe some cosmic force was at work here? Did he believe?

  Well, he’d definitely had a front row seat to many of the Eternity Springs’ more woo-woo moments. And what he didn’t witness himself, he’d heard about firsthand. Everything from Gabe Callahan’s now-ancient boxer, Clarence, just happening to show up in time to save Gabe’s life to Hope Romano finding her lost child to the reunion of long lost lovers—his own parents—after Sarah won a vacation to Australia that brought her face-to-face with Cam. They all had one thing—one person—in common. Celeste Blessing.

  And how had Jenna and Reilly found their way to Eternity Springs?

  Through a cell phone of Celeste’s.

  “There’s your sign, dumbass.” The clues were right there in front of him, clear as a Christmas bell. Only an idiot—or someone who didn’t believe in Eternity Springs woo-woo—would fail to connect the dots. Reilly called Santa and asked for a dad. Devin said enough to attract them to Eternity Springs for Christmas vacation and then, unless he was totally off on the clues he picked up yesterday, Jenna ended up at a local’s party on New Years Eve and locked lips with the lawyer at midnight.

  Then she comes back to town with trouble on her tail at the exact same time that Devin happened to be here— after a freak snowstorm changes the family’s plans. “Can Celeste control the freaking weather?”

  Devin wouldn’t put anything past her.

  So now here he was about to move into close quarters with Hot Mom for whom he definitely had a thing and the sorry Christmas bells ring. Goodbye hot tub daydreams. So long vacation-fling fantasies. Arrivederci any idea of taking advantage of Jenna while Riley was away at camp.

  Because Devin wasn’t The Guy. Devin didn’t dream about finding The One. His MO was The Many. He liked having a harem, to use his father’s term. He was a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy, and the ladies knew that from the beginning. He was always up front when he started dating. He didn’t lie about his intentions—or lack thereof. He didn’t lead anyone on. Because . . . he would leave. He always left. That’s what he did.

  The one time he’d considered doing it differently had bitten him in the ass. He’d learned a hard, bitter lesson, one that he’d never forget.

  And now that he’d heard the Christmas bells, he knew what was what. He wasn’t meant for Jenna. He certainly wasn’t meant to be Reilly’s dad. He was home for three weeks and then he’d be history. He would be her bodyguard. He would be part of the team to solve the stalker problem. But he wasn’t the answer to Reilly’s Christmas wish. Reilly and Jenna needed something different. Someone different.

  The clues were too many, the Christmas bells too loud to ignore. The Eternity Springs woo-woo was at work with Jenna and Reilly Stockton, and Devin couldn’t help but believe. He had to do his part.

  He was Santa Claus.

  Santa’s job was to play Cupid. For Jenna and Boone McBride.

  Well, if that’s not a kick in the balls, I don’t know what is. Maybe he’d better stop by his dad’s shop and get a bow and some arrows.

  He’d take aim at Boone McBride first.

  Twelve

  The handwritten card read, Keep your face to the sunshine and feel better soon! Boone

  Jenna had always been a sucker for flowers, and bright cheerful sunflowers invariably brought a smile to her face. They couldn’t have come at a better time either, since she’d been sitting on her patio and pretending to read, while in reality she’d been staring at the pages, brooding and second-guessing her decision to send Reilly to camp.

  While part of her was positively giddy at the thought of having a month to herself, another part feared she’d spend the entire time missing Reilly and fretting about how he was managing without her. Intellectually, Jenna recognized that living in each other’s pockets these past four months had changed the dynamics of their relationship in a way that wasn’t good for either of them. But since the February SWAT team invasion, in matters that involved her son, emotions ruled the day more often than not.

  Now she had a big, bright, beautiful bunch of flowers to distract her from her doldrums. “Keep my face to the sunshine,” she murmured, smiling. “Don’t you know that gives a girl wrinkles?”

  Nevertheless, she took off her hat and tilted her face toward the sun. As sunshine warmed her skin, she tried to recall the last time a man had sent her flowers. It had been a long time, that’s for certain. Joel Mercer brought her a red rose when he picked her up for a date one night, but he never had a florist deliver to her. If she tried to name a flower sending man who she hadn’t been sleeping with at the time . . . whoa. That took her all the way back to high school.

  And honestly, she wasn’t certain she would call her sweet, shy nerdy boyfriend a man. He’d been a boy learning to be a man.

  There was nothing left of the boy in Boone McBride. What did she think about this overture? Was it an advance or just a gesture of friendship? Or, maybe these flowers had more to do with Devin than with her. She hadn’t missed the posturing between the two men yesterday. The feminist in Jenna had been annoyed. The woman in her had been secretly thrilled.

  “Hey, pretty lady.”

  Startled, Jenna opened her eyes to see the figure dressed in Hawaiian board shorts and a Refresh Outfitters T-shirt standing just beyond her patio. “Devin.”

  “You look relaxed. Enjoying the weather?”

  “I am. It’s a gorgeous afternoon.”

  He gestured toward an empty chair. “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please, be my guest. Would you like something to drink?”

  “If that’s iced tea in your glass, I wouldn’t turn it down—as long as you’ll let me fix it m
yself.”

  Jenna gestured toward the camper. “Make yourself at home.”

  Moments later, she heard the sound of ice hitting a glass from inside the camper. When he rejoined her, she saw that he’d chosen Reilly’s Scooby-Doo glass. “Okay, now that amuses me. Care to guess where we got that particular glass?”

  Devin gave the tumbler a closer look, then grinned. “Mikey. He is a Scooby fiend.”

  “He gave it to Reilly when they got to be friends over Christmas.”

  Devin lifted the glass in toast. “To friendship.”

  After they clinked glasses, Devin sat and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. Ray-Ban sunglasses hung from a cord around his neck. On his feet, he wore flip-flops. She couldn’t quite read the look that came into his hazel eyes as he studied her.

  He took a long sip of tea, then asked, “How is your ankle today?”

  “A little better. I expect that by tomorrow I’ll be down to using one crutch. I’ll be much more mobile at that point.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.” Devin made a broad gesture toward the surrounding campground. “So where’s the squirt?”

  “In town visiting the puppy. Liliana had a few errands to run in town, so she offered to take him along.”

  “I heard through the pinecone telegraph that he’s whittled his list of possible names down to seventeen.”

  Jenna laughed. “The pinecone telegraph?”

  “Your son to my brother to his sister to her husband to his sister to her fiancé to my father to me.”

  “Well, you can add another link in your chain. I happen to know that as of twenty minutes ago, the list was down to eleven.”

  “You have a prediction on the winner?”

  “I do. I think he’ll decide against changing the puppy’s name. Reilly was never comfortable with changing his name by using his initials. I think he’ll take Sinatra up to camp with him.”

  “It’s a good name.” Devin lifted his sunglasses and slipped them on. “Pretty flowers you have there. Got a secret admirer?”

  “A get-well message from a friend.”

  The nosy man reached over and plucked the card off the bouquet and read it. “I figured as much. So I gather you and McBride have a past?”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Yes, it was quite scandalous. We met at Celeste’s New Year’s Eve party and made small talk. He handed me a glass of champagne and kissed me at midnight.”

  The words Devin spoke next were at odds with the slight thinning of his lips. “McBride is a relative newcomer to town and I don’t know him well personally, but he has an excellent reputation. Have you met Mac Timberlake, my sister’s father-in-law?”

  Jenna nodded.

  “Mac is a former federal judge and he’s an excellent judge of character. He convinced McBride to move here from Fort Worth and take over his law practice. Scuttlebutt is that he tried to set McBride up with his daughter Caitlin. That’s about as good a recommendation as you can get around here.”

  And you are telling me this why? “It was nice of him to send flowers.”

  “He’s related to the Callahan clan, too. A distant cousin or something. I’m not exactly sure how. I met him at Brick and Lili’s wedding.”

  Jenna had other things on her mind than Boone McBride, so she changed the subject. “How is your mother feeling today? Better, I hope?”

  “I think so. She has more color in her cheeks than she did yesterday.”

  “Good.” Jenna made a mental note to call in her own order of get-well-soon flowers. Sarah Murphy had been nothing but kind to her and Reilly, and Jenna would like to brighten her day with some sunflowers. “I hope she’s not upset about the change in your sleeping arrangements during your visit home.”

  “No, not at all. She did bring up family dinners, though, so I was right to warn you about that. She said Lori will join us more often than not too, since Chase stays up at the Rocking L when camp is in session.”

  “Please let her know that I’m happy to help with the cooking. Reilly doesn’t exactly have a sophisticated palate. It’ll be a joy for me to make something other than spaghetti.”

  “I’ll do that. So, any idea when Lili and Reilly will be back?”

  Jenna glanced at her watch. 2:38. “Any time now, I imagine. Lili said she needed to be back by three. She and Brick have an appointment.”

  Devin gave a satisfied nod. “I’ll wait then, if you don’t mind. I have a little something to give him. A birthday gift.”

  “That’s sweet of you, but his birthday is in March.”

  “I remember. But I also understand that Sinatra is a birthday gift.”

  “How do you know . . . oh. The pinecone telegraph?”

  “Nothing in Eternity Springs stays secret for long.”

  They both turned to look when three quick beeps of a horn announced Liliana Callahan’s return. Devin set down his drink and then rose and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  Jenna watched as her son exited the Jeep sporting the Stardance Ranch logo and started running toward their campsite. Upon spying Devin, her son veered in his direction. “Hi, Devin. Guess what?”

  “You’ve whittled your list of puppy names down to ten?”

  “You know about my dog?”

  “Everyone in Colorado knows about your dog. Come with me. I need help carrying some things.”

  “Yessir.”

  Devin reached into the bed of his pickup and lifted out a shopping bag and then another and another and another. He handed two of the bags to Reilly, and then reached back for two more and a box.

  Jenna murmured, “What have you done, Devin Murphy?”

  Reilly bobbed from side to side as he carried the obviously heavy bags. Although she couldn’t hear what he was saying, his mouth never stopped moving. Devin grinned down at him and said something that caused Reilly to giggle in such a carefree manner that it took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. What a difference a couple of days—and a dog—could make.

  “Set the bags down by your mother,” Devin said as the pair drew near.

  Reilly did as instructed then pulled a phone out of his pocket. “Look what I have, Mom. Don’t worry. Ms. Lili gave it to me. It’s an old phone she had in her car but it’s not connected to the Internet or anything and the camera works. I took a whole bunch of pictures of Sinatra.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Let me see ’em,” Devin said as he deposited his packages on the patio beside the two that Reilly had dumped. He sat in the chair he’d vacated earlier and motioned Reilly to hand over the phone. He flipped through the photos. “Those are some blue eyes on that pup. Maybe you should call him Sky. Sky is a good name for dog.”

  Reilly’s lips pursed. “Sky. I hadn’t thought of that.” Devin then rattled off another dozen names that had Reilly finally clapping his hands on his head and wailing. “I can’t decide!”

  Devin’s chortle had a smidgen of evil in it. “Or you could just call him Sinatra and be done with it. While you’re thinking about it, why don’t you open your birthday presents?”

  Reilly blinked. “My what?”

  “I know. I know. Your birthday is in March and this is June, but I didn’t know you this past March and next March is too far away and besides, you need this stuff now.”

  “You’re giving me a birthday present?” Reilly repeated, awe in his tone. “Why?”

  A private smile played on Devin’s lips as he replied, “I like to give presents to good boys and girls.”

  “I try to be good.”

  “So your mom tells me. I heard she was giving you a belated birthday gift so I thought I’d get something to go along with it.”

  “Thank you so much! I’m so excited! Which bag is the present?”

  “All of them.”

  Reilly’s jaw dropped.

  Devin folded his arms. “Now, I don’t want any whining because they’re not wrapped. They’re in bags and boxes, and you can’t tell what t
hey are until you open them. I seriously don’t understand why a person needs to take something out of one bag and plunk it into another. Oh . . . wait. Before you dig in I have one thing . . .”

  He reached into one of the shopping bags that sported the Forever Christmas logo and removed a small white bakery bag. “I thought about getting you a cake or a cupcake, but believe me, this is better. You turned eight on your birthday, right?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Inside this bag are eight pieces of heaven—my mother’s strawberry pinwheel cookies. I’ll have you know I took them from my private stash. Want us to sing to you?” Without waiting for a response, Devin launched into song in a pleasing tenor. “Happy birthday to you, you belong in a zoo. You look like a monkey, and you smell like one too.”

  Reilly giggled happily as Devin finished by saying, “Happy birthday, Reilly. Now, share your cookies.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much.” He took three cookies from the bakery bag and passed them out.

  Devin popped one into his mouth. “Mmm. I could eat my weight in these. Have at it, kid. Tear into those bags.”

  In that Devin was doomed to disappointment, Jenna knew. Reilly had never been one to “tear in.” He opened gifts reverently. He wanted to make the moment last as long as possible. He picked at tape and tugged gently at ribbons. Even with these bags, he’d find a way to go slowly. The boy reached tentatively for the nearest bag. “All of them? They’re all for me?”

  “Yes.”

  Reilly filled his cheeks with air then blew out a slow breath. Jenna recognized that he was overwhelmed by the moment. When was the last time that anyone had treated him with such kindness and generosity? Not since their original trip to Eternity Springs. He’s never going to want to leave here.

  That’s something she probably should spend a little time thinking about.

  Devin snagged a second cookie from the bag. “Hurry up, boy. You’re slower than Christmas.”

  Reilly looked up at Devin and grinned. “If these were Christmas presents instead of birthday presents, that would make you Santa Claus, wouldn’t it?”

  In the process of reaching for his iced tea, Devin jerked and came close to knocking Scooby-Doo over. He met Jenna’s gaze and his lips twisted in a rueful smirk. Reilly didn’t notice because he’d finally pulled something from the bag. A Scooby-Doo dog leash. It took him ten more minutes to unwrap the rest of the gifts—a Scooby snack treat jar and Scooby-themed dog bowls, collar, tag, toys, and, finally, a deluxe dog bed. When the boy threw himself into Devin’s arms and declared his undying thanks, Jenna blinked back tears. Needing to lighten the moment, she cleared her throat and said, “Now I understand. Michael isn’t the only Murphy who likes Scooby-Doo.”