The Christmas Night Miracle

by Mortimer, Carole

  Although somehow, as a glitter of anger started to show in Meg’s eyes, he didn’t think she was going to be too impressed with that explanation.

  He abruptly released Lydia Hamilton’s hand. ‘Although I would really rather you just thought of me as a friend of Meg’s,’ he added smoothly.

  ‘A friend of…yes, of course,’ Lydia looked completely flustered at this stage.

  ‘Perhaps you would like to invite us inside, Lydia?’ He spoke hardly now. ‘It’s getting a little wet out here.’ He looked pointedly at the snow that had just started to fall again, landing on their bare heads before melting.

  ‘Of course.’ She stepped back so that they could enter.

  Which, after another frowning glance in his direction, Meg did, Scott’s hand still tightly clenched in hers.

  Jed’s anger towards Lydia Hamilton turned to cold fury as he looked at the slightly bewildered little boy.

  How could she remain so indifferent to such a cute kid? He knew he hadn’t been able to earlier this morning when Scott had begged to go outside and make a snowman. Scott looked so exactly like his mother, and surely, somewhere behind that cold mask, Lydia Hamilton loved her youngest daughter.

  Maybe not, he decided after another hard glance at the older woman.

  Aged in her early sixties, Lydia Hamilton was one of those women who looked as perfect first thing in the morning as she did last thing at night, never a hair out of place, her make-up applied expertly so as to smooth out any lines, the skirt and sweater she wore ultra-smart. Jed somehow couldn’t imagine this woman ever getting down on the floor to play with her children the way that Meg did with Scott.

  Although she was fast recovering from her surprise, her smile once again cool. ‘Please come through to the sitting-room, Mr Cole, and meet my husband, David.’

  ‘Hey, look, Scott, a Christmas tree.’ Jed, having detected a slight trembling to the little boy’s bottom lip, moved quickly forward to pick him up in his arms and carry him across the cavernous hallway to look at the decorated tree, the urge inside him to actually strangle Lydia for her insensitivity to her grandson firmly held in check. He didn’t think Meg would appreciate it if he were to murder her mother in front of her eyes.

  Scott cheered up at the sight of the nine-feet-high decorated tree, his eyes soon shining bright with wonder as he gazed at all the meticulously applied decorations and lights.

  Relieved that his distraction had worked, Jed was nevertheless aware of the conversation taking place across the hallway between the two women.

  ‘I think you might have told me, Margaret,’ Lydia Hamilton snapped softly. ‘I felt ridiculous not knowing who the man was.’

  Jed would take a bet on Meg feeling something a little stronger than ridicule.

  But he didn’t regret what he had done for a moment. It had been worth it just to see the cold arrogance wiped off Lydia Hamilton’s face.

  Meg took her time answering her mother, seeming to choose her words carefully when she did speak, ‘Jed likes to keep his anonymity for the main part,’ she finally responded huskily.

  ‘Well, yes, I can understand that, but—what are we going to do with him?’ Lydia Hamilton sounded flustered again—not a frequent occurrence, Jed would hazard a guess.

  ‘Why, nothing.’ Meg sounded startled by the question. ‘Jed isn’t going to—’

  ‘Lydia, who was that at the door? Meg!’

  Jed had put Scott down to turn at the first sound of that masculine voice, just in time to see the pleasure that lit the paleness of Meg’s face before she launched herself at the man who had to be her father, a tall, thin man with eyes as green as his daughter’s.

  ‘Daddy.’ Meg choked emotionally as she hugged her father tightly.

  ‘Daddy’, not the formal ‘Mother’ with which she spoke to Lydia Hamilton, Jed noted with satisfaction, glad there was one person in this household, at least, who was pleased to see Meg. Although that relief was short-lived as he remembered that this man was just as guilty of neglecting his daughter and grandson the last three and a half years as his wife was.

  He looked critically at the older man. David Hamilton was still a handsome man, his hair white, with a definite look of Meg about him in the eyes and face, although that face showed the pale unhealthiness of a recent illness, his sweater and trousers seeming slightly too big for his frame too, as if he had recently lost weight.

  The illness had been a recent thing, then, Jed decided. Perhaps the reason Lydia seemed to have relented where her youngest daughter was concerned? It would be too much to hope that it had been for Meg and Scott’s sakes.

  Jed glanced down as Scott tugged at his trouser leg, going down on his haunches as he saw the little boy was looking shyly at the man his mother was hugging.

  ‘Is that man my grandad, Jed?’ he prompted in what he no doubt thought was a hushed voice, but nonetheless which carried in the cavernous hallway.

  David Hamilton stiffened slightly before putting Meg slowly away from him and turning to look at the source of that voice.

  Jed’s move was purely instinctive as he placed a protective hand on Scott’s shoulder. Lydia Hamilton’s complete indifference to her grandson had been hard enough to witness; Jed felt as if he might actually do someone physical harm—even a recently ill man—if David Hamilton were to hurt the boy too.

  ‘Yes, Scott, I’m your granddad.’ David Hamilton spoke gently, his gaze riveted on Scott’s small features as he slowly walked over to where they stood. ‘Goodness, you look just like your mummy did at your age,’ he breathed emotionally, a glitter of tears in those faded green eyes as he bent down to the little boy’s level.

  ‘Do I?’ Scott breathed excitedly. ‘Do I really?’

  ‘You certainly do,’ his grandfather assured him huskily. ‘Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you some photographs of her that I keep in my study?’ He held out his arms, earning Jed’s approval as he let the little boy come to him rather than forcing the issue.

  ‘David, I don’t think you should be exerting—’

  ‘I’m perfectly fine, Lydia,’ David cut in harshly on his wife’s protest, his gaze still on his grandson. ‘Scott?’ His voice gentled again as he encouraged the little boy to come to him.

  Jed glanced across at the two women who stood together watching this scene, Meg with tears of happiness shining brightly in her eyes, Lydia’s expression much harder to read, although Jed thought he recognized concern there. For her husband, he guessed, so perhaps the woman did have some redeeming qualities, after all. Somewhere behind that coldness.

  Scott, he was pleased to see, had responded to his grandfather’s gentleness, and was now securely held in the man’s arms as David straightened and looked at Jed for the first time, as if just noticing him. Which, considering the emotional reconciliation the man had just had with his daughter, his first ever meeting with his grandson, he probably hadn’t, Jed acknowledged ruefully.

  The older man gave him a quizzical look. ‘Jerrod Cole, isn’t it?’ He held out his free hand in welcome.

  ‘It is.’ Jed shook that hand, finding the grip firm. ‘But I would prefer it if you called me Jed,’ he added lightly.

  ‘And I’m David.’ The older man smiled. ‘I enjoyed your book very much. Can’t wait for the next one to come out.’

  That had the effect of wiping the smile off Jed’s face. ‘I’m working on it, thank you, sir.’

  ‘David, please,’ the older man insisted. ‘I’ve had a lot of time for reading recently,’ he added ruefully.

  ‘David, how on earth did you know that Margaret’s friend is Jerrod Cole?’ Lydia prompted with hard suspicion.

  Her husband gave her a level glance. ‘I recognize him from the photograph on the back of his book, of course,’ he dismissed mildly before turning back to Jed. ‘I take it you can actually pilot the plane you’re standing next to?’ he teased.

  Jed easily returned that smile. ‘I can.’

  ‘Good.’ The older ma
n nodded. ‘I’ll take this young man and show him those photographs now.’ He bestowed a warm smile on the patiently waiting Scott.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ his wife put in quickly.

  ‘That really isn’t necessary, Lydia,’ David assured her lightly, but the slight edge in his tone brooked no argument. ‘Why don’t you take Meg and Jed through to the sitting-room and offer them a drink?’ he softly, but again firmly, reminded his wife of her manners.

  It was easy to see by the bright wave of colour in Lydia’s cheeks as her husband departed with Scott that she wasn’t at all happy with this arrangement, but at the same time recognized that she had no choice but to comply.

  ‘Margaret, why don’t you take Mr—Jed, through to the sitting-room and I’ll go and organize some refreshments before lunch?’ She didn’t wait for an answer but moved off stiffly down the hallway.

  Jed had been studiously avoiding looking at Meg for the last few minutes, first because he had felt like something of an intruder to that emotional reunion with her father, and after that because he had been able to feel the accusation in her gaze as she’d looked at him, obviously none of what had happened in the last few minutes detracting from her earlier anger at his duplicity. Something he knew he was likely to hear about now that they were alone.

  Yep, the sparkle in her eyes, the firmness of her mouth, told him he was definitely going to hear about it.

  He sighed. ‘Meg, why don’t you hear me out before you say what you’re obviously bursting to say?’

  ‘You’re Jerrod Cole,’ she accused impatiently, as if that nullified anything else he might have to say in his defence.

  ‘Well, yes, I am aware of that.’ He grimaced. ‘But I’m also Jed Cole. And it was Jed Cole that you met yesterday—’

  ‘They’re one and the same person,’ she interrupted irritably.

  ‘No, not really.’ He sighed. ‘I—’ He broke off as the front door suddenly swung open behind them, a gust of cold air and snow preceding the two people who entered.

  A tiny woman wearing a long white luxurious coat and matching hat, her face flushed from the cold as she laughed huskily at something her companion was saying.

  The man was tall and grey-haired, his handsome face lined beside nose and mouth, teeth very white against his tan as he grinned down at the woman, limping very slightly as he moved to close the door.

  Obviously Meg’s brother-in-law, Jeremy.

  Which meant the woman had to be her sister, Sonia.

  The woman had removed her hat now, moving slender, perfectly manicured fingers through the short dark tresses, green eyes narrowing, her smile slowly fading, as she turned and saw that they weren’t alone.

  There were no impish freckles on her nose, and she didn’t have that slightly overlapping tooth to the left of her front teeth, either, but even so Jed recognized her as Meg’s twin, Sonia.

  Identical, and yet strangely not so, just as Meg had tried to tell him.

  And that tall, distinguished man at her side, a man surely old enough to be her father, was her husband, Jeremy.

  Jed’s gaze shifted to Meg, and he took an instinctive step closer to her as he saw how pale she had become. He wasn’t exactly sure why—this was her twin sister, after all—but offering her his support, anyway.

  So much for not getting involved—he was involved up to his thirty-eight-year-old neck.

  Chapter 5

  Meg felt as if she were somehow frozen in time, as if everything were happening in slow motion.

  First that frosty meeting with her mother, then that startling revelation about Jed—a revelation, no matter what he might wish to the contrary, that she hadn’t finished talking to him about.

  He was Jerrod Cole, for goodness’ sake.

  She still couldn’t quite believe it.

  The man had become a publishing phenomenon this last year, the sale of his book The Puzzle—what an apt title for such an enigmatic man—outselling anything that had come before it, on both sides of the Atlantic. The film rights had been sold for a record amount of money too.

  Meg read the newspapers, but she hadn’t yet found the time to buy and read the book everyone was talking about.

  Something she should maybe rectify now that she had actually met the author.

  Then had come that emotional reunion with her father. An older, thinner, strangely different father.

  She couldn’t quite say in what way he was different, only that he was. Maybe because of his heart attack, or maybe for some other reason she wasn’t aware of.

  Not that he had been any different with her, just his usual loving self. And she couldn’t have asked for a better response from him towards Scott.

  There was just something not quite right, an unspoken strain between him and her mother, perhaps? Meg had certainly never heard him speak to her mother in quite that firm tone before.

  But this unexpected—until last night when she’d spoken to her mother on the telephone—meeting with her sister was certainly an added strain Meg could well have done without.

  They had been close once, very close, but time, and circumstances, had ensured that was no longer the case.

  Sonia looked no more pleased about the two of them being here together as their gazes met in silent battle. An antagonism in Sonia’s face that she quickly masked as she realized they weren’t alone, her gaze shifting slightly sideways to where Jed stood at Meg’s side, those green eyes widening slightly, not in recognition, Meg didn’t think, but rather a female response to an attractive man.

  Meg couldn’t even bring herself to glance in Jed’s direction to see what his reaction was to this sleeker, more sophisticated version of herself.

  ‘Meg, darling.’ Sonia finally spoke with bright brittleness. ‘How lovely to see you here.’ She crossed the room to give Meg a brief hug, touching cheeks, her kiss floating away in the air. ‘And this is…?’ She gave Jed a look of frankly female appreciation.

  Meg fought down the instinct to gnash her teeth together as she easily interpreted that speculative glance for what it was, instead making the introductions as briefly as possible, including Jeremy as he strolled over to join them, favouring his left leg slightly as he did so.

  Sonia, unlike their mother a short time ago, received Jed’s identity with a few complimentary comments about his book and a narrow-eyed glance in Meg’s direction.

  No doubt her sister was wondering how Meg, of all people, had managed to meet such a famous and fascinating man.

  ‘And where is little—Scott, I believe you called him?’ Sonia prompted with a noticeable coolness in her voice.

  Meg drew in a sharp breath, the abrupt reply she was about to make forestalled by her mother’s return.

  ‘I’m so glad you managed to get back before the storm started again,’ she said evenly as she saw that her eldest daughter and son-in-law had now joined them.

  ‘Only just,’ Sonia drawled ruefully. ‘If you’ll all excuse us while we go upstairs and freshen up before lunch?’ she added to no one in particular, taking hold of her husband’s arm as the two of them went up the stairs together.

  ‘It’s snowing heavily again?’ Meg prompted with dismay. How on earth was Jed going to get back to the cottage if that were the case.

  ‘Worse than yesterday,’ her father answered as he returned with Scott still in his arms, her son, Meg was pleased to see, more than happy with the arrangement. ‘I should go and get your luggage from the car now, Jed, while you still have your outdoor clothes on, before it gets any worse.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Good idea, David.’ Jed spoke firmly. ‘Coming with me, Meg?’ he added purposefully.

  She looked up at him frowningly. First he announced he was a friend of hers, and now he was proposing they get their luggage from the Range Rover. But he didn’t have any luggage. Did he?

  She gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘But wouldn’t you be better—?’

  ‘I can’t carry it all on my own,’ he told
her teasingly. ‘I think she packed enough things to stay for a month,’ he confided in her father.

  Meg’s frown only deepened at this comment. Because Jed knew how untrue that was, had already commented himself on the small amount of luggage she had brought with her. Although there were all of Scott’s Christmas presents, of course.

  However, there were still a few things she would like to say to Jed—Jerrod Cole—in private.

  But apparently there were a few things he had to say to her too. ‘Phew,’ he breathed in relief once they were safely outside with the front door firmly closed behind them. ‘No wonder you were in no rush to get here.’ He grimaced. ‘Your dad seems okay, but as for the rest of them.’ He shook his head. ‘Your mother is like a reversed iceberg—the ice is ninety per cent above the surface rather than the other way around,’ he explained ruefully at Meg’s questioning look. ‘Your sister I haven’t worked out yet, except that she seems to be married to a man twice her age. Although he seems okay too, so maybe it’s only the female members of the family who are a bit odd.’

  Meg had stared at him incredulously through this monologue about her family, totally immune to the fresh snow buffeting and gusting about them. ‘Do I take it that I’m included in that last sweeping statement?’

  Jed grinned unabashedly. ‘Oh, no, in comparison, you’re quite normal.’

  ‘You’re so kind.’ Sarcasm dripped off her voice.

  His grin widened. ‘Come on.’ He grabbed her arm. ‘Let’s go and sit in the Range Rover out of the snow, I’m sure there are a few things you would still like to say to me.’ He gave her a mocking glance.

  ‘Oh, just a few,’ she agreed as the two of them ran down the front steps to get in the Range Rover, at once feeling warmer as the wind continued to howl outside. ‘Jerrod Cole?’ she prompted again pointedly.

  ‘Yeah.’ He grimaced. ‘I usually like to keep quiet about that.’

  ‘Well, in my case, you succeeded,’ she assured him disgustedly, still feeling rather foolish for not having recognized him.

  Although, in all honesty, not many of the reports of the success of The Puzzle had actually included a photograph of the author, and those that had been included were black and white and quite grainy to look at, and Jed’s hair had been much shorter, too.