“I think so,” Amelia answered. “The last time I saw it, it was in the storage room, shoved behind some cans of paint. Why?”
“Find it,” she told her. “I’ll be at the shelter as soon as I can get there,” Miranda promised, terminating the call.
So much for waylaying Colin today, she thought, dropping her phone into her purse.
“Looks like you’ve gotten a reprieve, Officer Kirby,” Miranda murmured under her breath, starting up her vehicle and then peeling out of the hospital’s parking lot.
She was going to need padding. Lots and lots of padding if she had a prayer of pulling this off. She’d have to have Amelia round up a whole bunch of pillows.
Miranda was still trying to figure out exactly what she would do as she pulled into the women’s shelter’s parking lot. If she hadn’t been so lost in thought, she would have seen him.
As it was, she didn’t.
Not until after she’d jumped out of her car and run smack-dab into him, so hard she all but fell backward. Only Colin grabbing her by the arm kept her from meeting the concrete skull-first.
Stunned, for a split second Miranda thought she was hallucinating—until her brain assured her that she really wasn’t conjuring Colin up.
He felt much too real for that.
“Colin?” she cried, shaken. “What are you doing here?” Miranda still wasn’t a hundred percent sure that she wasn’t just imagining him, putting his face on another man’s body.
The police officer released her slowly, watching her intently to make sure she was all right.
“I guess I’m not as noble as I thought,” he answered with a self-depreciating shrug.
Maybe she had hit her head, Miranda thought, blinking. She didn’t understand what he was telling her. “Why?”
“Because,” he confessed, “I was going to stay away from you.”
Miranda continued staring at him. He still wasn’t making any sense to her.
“Why is staying away ‘noble’?” she asked.
He might have known she’d want an explanation. This wasn’t easy for him to say. “Because I would only bring you down, and you don’t need that.”
Miranda thought of the kids in the shelter. She was still in a hurry, but the emergency would have to wait, at least for a couple minutes. This needed to be cleared up, and it needed to be cleared up now.
“First of all,” she told him, “I do have free will and a mind of my own. I’m not just some ink blotter that indiscriminately absorbs whatever happens to be spilled on it—”
“I’m not saying that you’re an ink blotter!” Colin protested.
“I’m not finished,” she informed him crisply. “And second of all, I can make up my own mind whom I want or don’t want in my life. That’s only up to you if you don’t want to be in my life because you can’t abide being around me.”
Colin stared at her in astonishment. How could she even think that, much less say it?
“You know that’s not the case.” Angry at how the situation was devolving, he had to rein himself in to keep from shouting the words at Miranda.
“Well, then there’s no problem, is there?” she concluded. Turning on her heel, she started to walk toward the building.
Before he could think better of it, Colin caught her by the arm to keep her from leaving. “Oh, there’s a problem, all right.”
Her desire to resolve this warred with her sense of responsibility. She was going to be cutting it very close, Miranda thought. For all she knew, Amelia might not have located the Santa suit yet.
“Walk with me,” she requested. When Colin fell into step beside her, she asked him to elaborate on what he’d just said. “Do you want to tell me just what is the problem?”
Colin tried to smother his frustration. He felt as if he was talking to a moving target, but then, that was part and parcel of who this unique creature was.
He thought of waving away her question, or just telling her flatly, “no.” But he had started this and had to be man enough to own up to it.
Colin forced himself to say, “I can’t get you out of my head.”
Miranda’s eyes were shining. She spared him a smile as they came up to the shelter’s double doors. “Still not seeing the problem.”
“But you will,” Colin predicted.
She highly doubted that. “Then we’ll put a pin in this now and talk about it later. Right now, I have an emergency to deal with,” she told him as she reached for the door’s brass handle.
So she wasn’t just running from him, Colin thought. Taking charge, he nudged her hand away and opened the door for her. “What sort of an emergency?”
She glanced at her watch. “The Christmas party starts in less than half an hour and Santa Claus is still in LA, stuck in traffic.”
Okay, this was convoluted, even for her. “You want to run that by me again? And this time, try to speak slower than the speed of light.”
Miranda took a breath. “Amelia hired this professional Santa Claus for the party, and now he can’t get here in time because he’s stuck in traffic. These kids have been disappointed an awful lot in their lives. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let it happen again if I can do something about it.”
“Just what is it you have in mind?”
“Amelia said there’s an old Santa suit here at the shelter. If we can find it, I’m going to play Santa Claus.”
Colin looked at her for a long moment. And then he laughed. Hard. It occurred to Miranda that she had never heard him laugh out loud like that before, but now wasn’t the time she wanted to hear it. “You got a better idea?”
It took him a second to collect himself and stop laughing. “Sorry, Miranda, I don’t mean to laugh at you, but you just don’t look like anyone’s idea of Santa Claus.” He paused again, thinking. And then he nodded. “And yes, I’ve got a better idea.”
She thought she knew what he was going to say and she shook her head, shooting down his idea.
“Just handing out the gifts to the kids isn’t going to be enough. These children want Santa Claus giving them those gifts. They want to be normal and see Santa Claus, like every other kid this time of year. They’ve got a right to that,” she insisted passionately.
Just seeing her like this nearly undid Colin. “That wasn’t the idea I had,” he told her. “Let’s go see if we can find that Santa suit. I’ve got a better chance of pulling this off than you do.”
It didn’t happen very often, but Miranda found herself practically speechless. When she did recover, she cried, in astonishment, “Really?”
Colin nodded. “Really.”
Miranda continued staring at him, waiting for some sort of a punch line. When none came, she had to ask, “You’re going to willingly play Santa Claus without having me twist your arm?”
He really did like surprising her.
“Without bending any of my body parts,” he assured her. “Now are we going to go on standing here talking about it or are you going to take me to wherever you think that Santa suit is stashed so we can get this show on the road?”
Her response to his question sounded incredibly like a squeal. The next second, Miranda had grabbed his hand and was dragging him through the shelter’s main room.
Before they had crossed it, Amelia approached them.
“Did you find it?” Miranda asked breathlessly. “The Santa suit?”
“It’s in my office.” The director seemed a little surprised by the man Miranda had in tow. “Officer Kirby, it’s so nice to see you again. Are you going to be joining the party?”
Before he could answer, Miranda cried, “Definitely!”
Turning on her short, stacked heel, Amelia followed Miranda and the policeman to her office.
Still somewhat bewildered, the woman sounded un
certain as she asked Colin, “You’re not going to be playing Santa Claus for the children, are you, Officer Kirby?”
Glancing her way, Miranda answered the question for him. “It’s a real Christmas miracle, isn’t it?”
The dignified director was smiling so hard she was practically beaming. “It most certainly is. The suit’s going to be a little big on you,” she warned Colin. “So I found some pillows.” She gestured to some stacked on the battered, secondhand easy chair that stood in the corner of her small office.
Colin briefly glanced at them. “They’ll work,” he told her.
Looking pleased, Amelia said, “Well, I’ll give you some privacy...” And she eased herself out of her office.
“And I’ll go get the sack of toys ready so you can hand them out,” Miranda volunteered. “I’ll meet you back here in Amelia’s office. If you finish dressing before I return, wait for me. You don’t want to go into the main hall empty-handed.”
No matter how much Miranda had built up the importance of Santa Claus making an appearance, he knew that the toys were the main attraction. “Not a chance,” he assured her.
But as he turned to look at her, he found that he was talking to himself. Miranda had already hurried off.
“That woman’s got way too much energy,” he murmured as he began to change.
Chapter Sixteen
Miranda turned around when she heard the office door behind her opening. About to tell Colin that she’d gotten the bulging sack of toys for him to hand out while he’d been changing into his costume, she instead wound up saying, “Wow.”
“Does it fit all right?” He glanced down at himself critically.
“You look just like Santa Claus,” Miranda declared. “I wouldn’t have known it was you if I hadn’t handed you the costume.” She circled him, then nodded with approval. “Laugh.”
He eyed her warily. “What?”
“Santa’s jolly, remember? You’re going to have to go ‘ho, ho, ho’ at least a few times, so let’s hear it.”
“Ho, ho, ho,” Colin said.
“You’re frowning under that beard, aren’t you?” she guessed. “Never mind,” she told him when he started to answer. “The beard covers it. But put some gusto into it. And here’s your bag of presents.” She indicated the sack next to her.
Taking hold of it, he began to swing it over his shoulder. Then his eyes widened. “You carried this here?”
“Dragged, actually,” she admitted. “It’s kind of heavy.”
“That’s an understatement,” Colin muttered under his breath. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“A little more ‘ho, ho, ho’ spirit,” she advised.
“I’m saving myself,” he responded, following her back to the main room.
“Hey, look, everybody! Look who’s here,” Miranda called out to the children the moment Colin walked into the common area.
The space was filled with kids of all sizes who had been anxiously waiting for the legendary elf to make his appearance. As they turned almost in unison in his direction, their faces lit up with delight, Colin saw.
“It’s Santa!”
“Santa’s here!”
“Santa!”
A chorus of excited voices called out, creating a cacophony of eagerness and joy blended with disbelief that Santa had actually come to the shelter—and he’d made it ahead of Christmas Eve, as well.
The next second, Colin found himself surrounded as children eagerly rushed up to him.
Miranda took control. Raising her voice, she told the children, “Okay, give him a little space. We don’t want to overwhelm Santa. He’s still got a lot of places to visit before the holidays are here.” Waving the little ones over to her side, she instructed, “Line up, kids. You’ll all get your turn, I promise.”
As Colin watched in surprise, the children obediently lined up as ordered and patiently awaited their turn.
His eyes shifted in Miranda’s direction. This was definitely a new side to her, he thought in admiration.
“That’s your cue to get started,” she prompted.
“Oh, right.” Colin set down his sack and opened it.
To his relief, Miranda stayed by his side the entire time and helped him hand out the gifts. As each child came up to him, she very subtly fed him his or her name to personalize the experience for the child.
Any doubts or uncertainty he’d harbored about volunteering to play Santa vanished within the first few minutes. The excitement, gratitude and awe he saw shining in the eyes of the children who surrounded him managed to create nothing short of an epiphany for Colin.
He began to understand why Miranda did what she did. Being there for these children brought about an incredibly warm feeling that he’d been unacquainted with prior to today.
He really got into the part.
* * *
Colin continued digging into the sack and handing out gifts until the very last child in line cried, “Thank you, Santa!” and hurried away, clutching her present against her.
It took him a second to process the fact that there was no one left in line. Turning toward Miranda, he asked, “Is that it?”
“Yup. You saw every last kid in the place,” she told him happily.
The sack sagged as he released it, and it fell to the floor. “Good, because there’s only a couple of gifts left. I would have hated to run out of presents before you ran out of kids,” he told her. He saw the wide grin on her face. “What?”
“Look at you,” she said proudly. “All full of Christmas spirit.”
He didn’t want her making a big deal of it. “There’s a difference between being full of Christmas spirit and not behaving like Scrooge.”
“Not in my book,” Miranda responded. Leaning into him, she whispered, “Lighten up, Santa, and take the compliment.”
Colin glanced down at the suit he was wearing. She saw the look in his eyes and took an educated guess as to what he was thinking. “Itchy, huh?”
He lowered his voice. “You have no idea.”
“You held up your end very well,” she told him. “Let’s get you back to Amelia’s office so you can get out of that suit.” Miranda looked around at the children, all of whom were happily playing with their toys from Santa. Some were still regarding their gifts in awe. “C’mon, the coast is clear,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”
Following her lead, Colin slipped out of the room. When he didn’t hear any of the children calling after him, he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly went down the hall to the small office at the rear of the building.
He went in and was surprised when Miranda followed.
“I’ll leave in a minute,” she promised, “so you can get out of that costume. I just wanted to indulge a fantasy.”
“A fantasy?” he questioned, surprised. She struck him as being so squeaky clean, so grounded, and not the type to have fantasies. His curiosity was aroused. “What kind of a fantasy?”
Mischief danced in her eyes. “I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to kiss Santa Claus,” she told him. “Do you mind?”
Was she kidding? He could feel the whiskers in his fake beard spreading as he grinned. “Not at all.”
Miranda wasn’t certain just what had possessed her to behave like this. Maybe it was the fact that Colin had volunteered—of his own accord—to help, and by doing so, had literally managed to save the day, which in turn had created a really warm feeling within her.
Or maybe it was because the memory of that last kiss was still lingering on her mind, making her long for a replay. Besides, there was something safe about kissing “Santa Claus” here in the director’s office, with a building full of people nearby.
Whatever excuse she gave herself didn’t really matter. What did matter was th
at a moment after she’d asked, she found herself being kissed by “Santa.”
Or more specifically, by Colin.
And she discovered that the third time around was even better.
This time, her knees turned to mush right along with the rest of her, and she really did have to hold on for dear life as Colin/Santa deepened the kiss by soul-melting degrees until her mind slipped into a black hole.
Only the sudden awkward noise in the doorway kept the kiss from totally engulfing not just her but both of them.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Amelia stuttered, obviously embarrassed about having walked in on them like this. Averting her eyes and addressing the nearby wall, she said, “I just wanted to thank you, Officer Kirby. You really made all those kids extremely happy.”
The director turned her head slowly, as if to make sure it was safe to look at them. She breathed a sigh of relief to see that neither was annoyed with her for the accidental intrusion.
“Well, I’ve said my piece,” she added, “so I’ll leave you two alone. Thank you again, Officer Kirby.”
“Um, yeah. Don’t mention it. I got a kick out of it,” Colin confessed.
“I’ll wait for you out here,” Miranda told him, quickly slipping out of the room right behind Amelia. She closed the door in her wake.
When he came out less than five minutes later, the director was nowhere in sight. However, true to her word, Miranda was standing out in the hall close by, waiting for him.
“I’m leaving the suit on the chair in the office,” Colin said, nodding toward the room.
“That’s perfect,” Miranda assured him. “Amelia’ll put it away until next year.”
He’d already forgotten about the costume. His mind was on something more important. He searched for the right words.
“Are you going home?” he asked.
Miranda nodded. “Lola’s waiting for her dinner. She’s probably right in front of the door.”
“So she’s still with you.” It wasn’t really a question. He’d just assumed that the dog had become more or less of a fixture at Miranda’s house, even though she’d called the situation temporary.
Christmastime Courtship Page 14