Santa's Seven-Day Baby Tutorial

by Meg Maxwell

  “Sometimes it’s not hard at all,” Essie said. “I was married for almost forty years to a wonderful man. Love at first sight for both of us. Nothing hard about it. And I’ll tell you, we were plenty passionate. But the last few months I’ve had myself a beau and he’s a different man and we’re different people. There are times when it feels like I’ve known him forever and other times when it’s like he’s from Mars.”

  Anna laughed. “That’s how it feels with Colt. And I think he feels that same way about me.”

  “Well, if you love him, if he’s the one, don’t let anything interfere with telling him,” Annabel said. “I lost several years with West when we were younger because he thought he wasn’t good enough for me, and I didn’t realize I needed to conk him over the head with how I felt about him.”

  “And I don’t have a lot of time,” Anna said. “We’re leaving on Christmas Eve morning to return his nephews to his sister and her husband. My job will be over. My reason for being with Colt will be over. And he intends to start working immediately on a big case. That’ll be that.”

  “So get your man,” Clementine said. “From everything you’ve said, there’s no way he’ll let you get away.”

  Anna wasn’t so sure of that herself. Colt equally wanted two things, it seemed. To have Anna. And to get away from Anna.

  Only one would win out.

  “Georgia, how did your husband realize that he didn’t have to be a lone wolf?” Anna asked. “That he could have love and family, too. Was it something you helped with?”

  The baker kneaded the dough, adding a sprinkle of flour. “I tried. Hard. I was pregnant with his baby at the time, too, and he was still very tough to convince that he had what it took to be a good father and husband. He had to see it for himself. He had to believe it. And he eventually did, but I did push the issue. I wasn’t going to let him walk away without putting my all into saving us.”

  “But how?” Anna asked. “I want to show him that he can have his job and a life outside of it. But how?”

  “Just be you,” Essie said. “Just be there. That’s how.”

  Georgia nodded. “It’s Colt who has to do the rest.”

  Anna stacked her many containers of spicy coleslaw in a box and taped it up, then carried it to the walk-in fridge, the blast of air barely registering since a chill had already crept inside her. What if Colt didn’t, couldn’t—wouldn’t—do the rest?

  * * *

  The twins were cranky after their morning nap, so Colt and Anna had stayed at the inn for a few hours, watching old movies and newer ones, ordering in every kind of food that Blue Gulch offered, from Chinese to Indian to Italian. They borrowed board games from the inn’s proprietor and Anna played Monopoly and Sorry for the first time. Colt taught her how to play poker, but she didn’t have much of a poker face and gave herself away every hand. Nathaniel peed on Colt’s favorite T-shirt during a changing session, and Noah threw up on Anna after she’d cautiously tried offering him Cheerios once his tummy bug seemed gone. Colt had never spent time like this with a woman who wasn’t his sister. When it was clear the boys were well enough to go out for some fresh air, Colt almost missed Anna’s room at the inn, the constant playing and singing of lullabies.

  And it was time to make sure Colt fulfilled the wishes he’d taken from the Santa’s Elves box on Hurley’s porch. Anna held the door as he wheeled the stroller into Blue Gulch toys, on a mission for everything on his list. Anna went one way and he went another, hoping to find Brady Canby’s snow globe for his sister. The store was crowded; it was just days before Christmas, and he hoped he didn’t wait too long.

  Nope, he hadn’t. There, right between a snow globe with Mr. and Mrs. Claus and one with Santa’s reindeer, was a ballerina snow globe. She was atop a Christmas tree, colorful gifts at the bottom, a tall nutcracker standing sentry.

  “I found the perfect snow globe for Brady,” Colt called, waving Anna over. He thought of Brady Canby, eleven years old, already cynical about Santa. As Colt had been as a kid. When Colt was ten, he’d accidentally knocked his sister’s porcelain doll, her favorite doll, a gift from their grandparents, off her dresser with a bat he’d been swinging, as he’d been showing off his baseball moves in her room, despite her yelling at him to get out. The more she told him to leave, the more he swung the bat. And then...smash.

  She’d sobbed, he’d gotten into big trouble, sent to his room, no TV for a week, and he’d had a list of extra chores to earn back the thirty-five dollars the doll had cost. The night he’d broken the doll, he’d gone into Cathy’s room to apologize, and at first she’d told him to beat it, then had softened when she saw how upset he really was. “Sorry about what Daddy said to you,” she’d said, and to this day he could remember the shame he’d felt.

  His father had said, “You’re such a screwup. How’d I get such a screwup for a kid?” Colt had been afraid he’d get a hard sock in the arm, but his father had just shaken his head and walked away.

  Colt had messed up a lot as a kid. Some bad grades, particularly on spelling tests. Some school-yard fights, a baseball or two through neighbors’ windows. He’d insulted a neighbor’s daughter when they were teenagers without meaning to and she’d gone off crying. It had been weeks before he’d heard the end of that. For a long time Colt had tried to figure out how to earn his father’s respect, but nothing had worked. Not A’s on his report card or the right girlfriends or how he dressed. The only thing that had gotten his father’s attention was when Colt said he planned to also become an FBI agent. He wanted to be like his father. He had no idea what an FBI agent even did or how it was different than being a cop. His father seemed to like the notion of Colt following in his footsteps, but they’d never gotten close. Henry Asher was a distant man and there was no bridge to reach him. “People are just who they are,” his mother would say when his sister would complain that Daddy didn’t come to her school concert or seem to care that she won an award.

  And Colt was just who he was. A lone wolf. Except lately he didn’t want to be. The thought of returning to Houston and going his separate way from Anna was hard to imagine. He liked being around her. He liked being with her. He liked seeing her first thing in the morning, last thing at night. The absence of her would be noticeable.

  His life had changed so much in these days that Anna had been part of. He was more open to a relationship with his birth relatives. And suddenly he was imagining Anna still in his life when the week was up.

  Anna came over to where he stood, smiling at the row of snow globes on the shelves. “Aww, that snow globe is definitely perfect,” she said, examining it from all angles. “I love the nutcracker by the Christmas tree.” She tilted up the bottom and twisted the prong. “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” began playing and the ballerina twirled atop the tree.

  Colt turned it right-side up and snow began falling. “One ballerina snow globe—check. But I’d also like to get Brady something for himself, too.”

  “What would an eleven-year-old boy like?” she asked as they began looking through the aisles.

  “I would have wanted this,” he said, picking up a cool-looking skateboard. Below was a row of helmets and safety gear. He chose a navy helmet and took a pack of the safety gear, too.

  “Very kind of you, Colt. We can check Brady Canby off the list. Essie said we can drop off all Santa’s Elves gifts at Hurley’s and put them under the Christmas tree with name tags, and she’d call the recipients to alert them to pick up their gifts.”

  “She’s really doing a nice thing,” Colt said. “Makes me want to volunteer in the kitchen even more. I didn’t have a chance to get over there.”

  She picked up a cartoon lunch box and bit her lip. “Uh, Colt? When I volunteered there this morning, your name might have come up in conversation.”

  “My name? Why?”

  “Well, one of the Hurley si
sters was taking a magazine quiz about romance, and they were answering a question about the men in their lives, and you’re kind of the man in mine. Unromantically speaking, of course.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What was the question?”

  “If I hinted I wanted to go away on a pre-Christmas getaway, would you pretend you didn’t hear, avoid me or whisk me away?”

  The green eyes narrowed at her. “What did you say I would do?”

  “At first I didn’t think such a question could apply to me. But then I realized you not only did hear me and didn’t avoid me, but you did whisk me away. Here I am.”

  “Babysitting two seven-month-olds round the clock for a week is hardly a Christmas getaway.”

  “Oh, it is,” she said. “It certainly is. If you’re me.”

  He smiled. “I passed the test. I figured I’d get the low score in any love quiz. Zero to ten points—dump this Neanderthal immediately.”

  Anna laughed. “The opposite.”

  He gave a tight smile and moved on down the aisle. He didn’t want to talk about himself. Or them—where romance was concerned. Luckily they were in a toy store on a mission and he had a good excuse for changing the subject. “Here’s the sporting goods. This is a pretty decent basketball. I’ll pick this up for the boy whose dad is overseas. After we’re done here, I’ll call his mom at the police station and talk to her about arranging a couple of games before we leave.”

  Anna nodded. “And there’s your yellow dump truck for Ethan Plotowsky,” she said, reading through the wishes. “I delivered the doll for Sophie to Hurley’s already, and I called the company Jake recommended to patch Amanda Lottertin’s roof, so I’m all set. Now that you’ve got the truck, you are, too.”

  “Let’s go pick more wishes,” Colt said after he paid and was laden with bags. “I could do this all day.”

  “You are a softy.”

  “Everyone should have a good Christmas.”

  Anna flung her arms around him and hugged him tight, and after his initial surprise, he put down his bags and hugged her back.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “I just think you’re awesome.”

  He smiled. “I’m not that awesome. Trust me.”

  “Nope,” she said. “Although I do trust you in every other sense.”

  “Let’s go raid the wishes box. We’ll each pick one more.”

  Colt, a Santa’s elf. He was surprising himself more every day. Next thing he knew he’d be proposing to Anna. He chuckled to himself, then sobered. Fast.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  * * *

  Back in her room, the twins settled for their naps, Anna reread the email that Emma Morrow had forwarded from her friend the nurse. There were links to a university in Houston and the nursing program. She texted Colt to ask if he’d hang out with the twins while she used the inn’s desktop computer in the parlor to look up the university and check out the program and download an application. In thirty seconds he was in her room and she was overcome with the urge to kiss him. To be in his arms again. To be the object of his desire, as he was for her. When she’d impulsively hugged him in the toy store, he’d hugged her back tight for a moment—a real hug with affection, with longing.

  What was between them, under the surface, was very real. And if she was going to get her man as the Hurley sisters advised, she would have to tell him how she felt.

  All she had to say was “I love you, Colt Asher. I love you and want to be with you. Forever.” She didn’t have to say that last lone-wolf-scaring bit. Just the first two parts.

  “Colt?”

  “Hmm?” he asked, sitting down at her desk chair.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “Okay.” He stood up, and she could tell he was bracing himself.

  “I want to say this in the cold light of day. When we’re just standing around, living our lives, going about our business. Not during a romantic moment, like a kiss you’ll say was a mistake afterward.”

  He stared at her, waiting.

  “I’m going to use the computer in the parlor. But before I go, I want you to know that I’m in love with you. I want to be with you. That is all.”

  “Oh, that’s all?” he said, quirking a smile that faded. He closed his eyes. “Forget I said that. You caught me off guard.”

  “In a bad way?”

  “There’s really only one way to catch someone off guard,” he said.

  Ouch. She tried for a neutral expression. “Right. Well, now you know how I feel. I said it. It’s out there.” She headed to the door. “I don’t expect you to say anything now, Colt. I just wanted you to know.” She could feel her cheeks flaming. “Okay, so ’bye.”

  She quickly opened the door and ran out, her heart pounding.

  * * *

  Colt dropped back down on the chair, the air knocked out of him. She loved him?

  He knew he’d been right not to take her up on her offer to be her first lover. It wasn’t about sex and experience for Anna. It was about love.

  There was a piece of him that felt all gooey and warm. A great woman was in love with him. He was honored, actually.

  But a bigger piece of him was already shuttering up like a hurricane was approaching.

  He was still sitting at the desk, staring into space, when Anna returned, waving a few sheets of paper.

  She was beaming. “I downloaded the application for nursing school in Houston!”

  “I have no doubt you’ll get in, Anna. You’re going to be a great nurse.”

  She smiled and glanced at the papers in her hand. “Oh, the boys are still sleeping. I’ll stay with them now. I’m going to start filling out my application. We can meet for dinner later.”

  He loved how passionate she was about nursing school. Every day, every hour, he learned more about her and was more and more impressed by the person she was.

  “Anna, I wanted to get back to our conversation before you left. I don’t want to just pretend I didn’t hear you or that I’m avoiding you.”

  She laughed, but then her smiled faded and she put down the application. “So you’re choosing C, you’re going to tell me you love me, too, and that we have a future together?”

  “I—” He didn’t know what he wanted to say. He didn’t know what he wanted. “I just know that I care very much about you.”

  “That’s not one of the multiple-choice options.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, not sure what to say. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. “Then how about I just say the truth, Anna. That meeting you wasn’t in my plans. Suddenly, you’re the biggest thing in my life.”

  “Guess you’ll have to go with it, then.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Look, I know you’re meeting Devin Lomax behind the police station in ten minutes, so let’s just save this conversation for when we have more time.”

  “Meet you back here for dinner?” Not that he’d have more to add by then.

  She nodded. “How about seven? We could probably both use some real time apart to think.”

  He nodded. He didn’t like the idea of spending the next few hours without her. Especially because he’d soon be saying goodbye.

  He froze. So was that how it was? He would be saying goodbye? That had come out of him unbidden. Because he was so programmed to feel that way? Or because he wanted to go back into the field, to have ridding Texas of organized crime the only burn in his gut?

  “See you at seven,” he said. “Later, little guys,” he added, glancing at the napping Noah and Nathaniel.

  He left quietly, missing them all the moment he closed the door behind him.

  * * *

  “I’m looking for Devin Lomax’s mother,” Colt said to the receptionist a
t the Blue Gulch Police Department.

  “First desk on the left,” the receptionist said. “You can’t miss her since she’s the only female officer right now.”

  Colt walked over to Lynne Lomax’s desk, carrying the basketball with a big red-and-green bow on it. Lynne was in her late thirties with short blond hair and a warm smile. “Hi, I’m Colt Asher. I called earlier about the wish your son put in the Santa’s Elves box at Hurley’s.”

  She smiled at the basketball. “I appreciate that—and that you’re taking time from your vacation to give him some tips and show him some moves,” Lynn said. “I did a background check to make sure you’re who you say you are.”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said.

  “Devin is out back now, working on his free throws. He knows you’re coming.”

  Colt headed outside. Devin Lomax was a short, skinny eleven-year-old in a T-shirt and athletic pants. He had brown wavy hair and hazel eyes and his expression said: whatever.

  “Hey, Devin, I’m Colt. Santa’s Elf. Merry Christmas.” He bounced the ball over to him.

  “You don’t look like an elf,” the boy said, raising an eyebrow. He took off the bow and stuck it to the front of his shirt, then dribbled his new ball.

  “Elves come in all shapes and sizes.”

  “But can they shoot?” the boy asked, throwing a three-pointer...and missing. He sighed and hung his head. “I stink. I’m never going to make the team.”

  “You can make the team by doing three things, Devin. The first is believing that you will make the team.”

  “Why should I believe it when it’s obviously not going to happen? I can’t even get the ball in the hoop.”

  “Because you don’t think you can. Believing in yourself is key. You want to aim that ball and think ‘It’s going in. I can do it.’ And you’ve got to feel it.”

  The eyebrow went up again. “Okay. You said there were three things.”

  “Second, keep your eye on the hoop. Feel the distance between the ball in your hand and the hoop. Feel it. Then aim, your eye on the hoop.”