Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  “It’s a date.” I went on my tiptoes so I could kiss him, and he kissed me back soundly, mouth opening, the two of us tasting each other, wanting more. The connection between us, which had seemed as if it had been sleeping these past few weeks, flared into open flame once again. My whole body thrummed with need. In the face of that desire, I thought I could ignore my sore and aching breasts, the not-quite-healed scar on my abdomen…everything.

  The baby monitor on the dresser came alive in that moment, the thin wail I’d come to recognize as Emily’s, followed by Ian’s lustier cry.

  All right, so I couldn’t ignore everything.

  “Rain check?” I asked Connor.

  He gave me a rueful smile. “Sure.”

  I had to give the twins credit for one thing; when they went off, they went off in tandem. At first I’d been worried that they would take turns crying, would trade off who needed to be fed or changed or even simply cuddled and kissed. For whatever reason, though, they seemed to sleep at the same time, get hungry at the same time. It had made life a little easier than I’d expected, although I couldn’t help wondering if this was a twin thing, or just an Ian and Emily thing. Either way, I’d take it.

  So the packing was interrupted while I breastfed Ian and Connor bottle-fed Emily. We tried to alternate, although Emily did seem to prefer the bottle. I’d given Connor the evil eye when he made a crack about Ian obviously being a boob man, but that did appear to be the case.

  Eventually, though, the twins were both sated and put back in their cribs, and we could finish getting all our stuff together for the trip down to Jerome. And since we were traveling with a pair of newborns, that meant we were packing a lot of stuff. More than an hour had gone past by the time we had everything loaded into the Cherokee, but that was all right. We’d told everyone we’d be down on the twenty-second, but we hadn’t given an exact time, since it all depended on how cooperative the twins decided to be.

  My birthday was the twenty-first. Connor and I had spent it quietly at home, since we knew we were going to be gone for the next few days anyway. I’d said I didn’t want anything — didn’t I already have everything I needed? — but Connor would have none of that. Instead, he’d hidden presents for me all over the house — a new pair of cowboy boots, some garnet earrings I’d admired in one of the local shops, a new iPad — and waited for me to find them. And then Connor’s cousin Lucas, bless his heart, sent over a chef friend of his to cook me a birthday dinner. The twins didn’t even wake up until we were almost done with dessert, which felt like their own special present to me.

  And now we were headed back down to Jerome. I hadn’t been there since I intervened to make sure my cousin Margot Emory, one of the McAllister clan elders, was released from her service as elder so she could marry Lucas Wilcox. That day was here finally — or rather, it would be on the twenty-third. The wedding was the main reason why I had made plans to go to Jerome, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend Christmas with my extended family. Not that all of them even observed the actual holiday, but basically the whole time from the solstice to New Year’s was a celebration among the witches of Cleopatra Hill, and I wanted to be there to share it with them.

  The twins, still satiated from their last feeding, were so conked out that they didn’t stir even as we strapped them into their child seats and backed out of the garage. It was my car, but Connor drove; the farthest we’d taken Ian and Emily prior to this was to the pediatrician’s, and I knew I needed to be able to dive into the back seat to take action if either one of them woke up and needed something. Then again, driving in the car tended to make them even sleepier, so they’d probably stay conked for the whole trip to Jerome.

  We took the road down through the canyon. It was more direct, and besides, since we’d had fresh snow two days before, the scenery was absolutely beautiful, a perfect wonderland. Rachel had reported that they’d had snow in Jerome, too, although I guessed it would be melted by the time we got there. In Flagstaff, the snow stuck. In Jerome, it might hang around for a day if you were really lucky. Just as well, since negotiating those cramped, steep streets could be a challenge when things got icy.

  Connor had put on a soft New Age-y station on the satellite radio; he knew better than to play anything loud while Ian and Emily were asleep. I watched the trees flash by and thought about how much had changed over the past year. A year ago, I’d been kidnapped by Connor’s crazy brother Damon and brought to Flagstaff, and I’d thought I’d never see my home again. Now Flagstaff was home, or at least my part-time home. Now I needed to reestablish my connection with my hometown and the clan that had once been the only things I’d known.

  “What are you thinking about?” Connor asked, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake the twins.

  “Going home,” I replied, almost without thinking. He winced, and I quickly added, “The place I grew up. Home is…well, home is where you are. You know that.”

  A smile touched his lips, but I noticed how he didn’t look away from the road. A good idea, since patches of ice still lurked in some of the shady spots on the blacktop, even though the weather had been dry since the last storm passed through. “It’ll be good for you to see everyone.”

  I nodded. I’d found myself missing all of them, even the cantankerous Bryce McAllister, one of the clan’s elders. They were a part of the fabric of my life, and I knew I’d feel better if I could figure out a way to stitch the two pieces of that fabric into a harmonious whole. I thought then of my best friend, who I hadn’t seen for a couple of weeks, but who would be at the wedding the next day. “Sydney says thank you for the invitation to the wedding, by the way. I know she doesn’t really know either Margot or Lucas, but…”

  “…but there was never a wedding Syd could resist.” Connor’s tone was dry, that hint of a smile I loved so much playing around the corners of his mouth.

  “Well, she’s just saying it’s research, but yeah.” Sydney’s wedding wasn’t until March, but she was already furiously plotting, taking notes, buying bridal magazines I hadn’t even heard of. I was glad that by March I should be more or less back down to fighting trim, since of course she’d decided on sheath dresses for the bridesmaids.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  When Connor was being that noncommittal, I knew he really didn’t believe a word of it but didn’t feel like arguing the point. Not that there was that much to argue about. I knew Sydney was being kind of obsessive about the fancy wedding she was planning, but why not? Her parents could afford it, and she wasn’t going crazy. Much.

  “Oh, and Rachel said she’d watch Ian and Emily so we can go pick up a tree tonight.”

  “Don’t we already have one back at the house?”

  “Yes, but we don’t have one in Jerome, and that’s where we’re going to be for Christmas.”

  Connor didn’t quite let out a sigh. “Okay.”

  I shifted in my seat and poked him in the arm. “Whose fault was it that I didn’t get to enjoy the tree in my house last Christmas?”

  This time his gaze did slide toward me, a flicker of deep green which made that same bit of welcome warmth flare somewhere low in my belly. “Fine, but I was under the impression you were okay with how all that worked out.”

  “I am okay,” I said, then leaned over in my seat so I could lay a kiss on his arm. That was as far as I could reach, considering the way the seatbelt held me in. “More than okay, and you know that very well, Connor Wilcox.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, fine, a tree. I suppose you have ornaments for it?”

  “Yes. Rachel boxed them all up for me and put them in the attic last year when — well, when it was obvious I wouldn’t be here for Christmas.” That mental image sent a pang through me, the thought of my aunt fighting back tears as she took down the ornaments I’d so carefully chosen and hung on my tree. Back then, she’d feared she would never see me again, that the Wilcoxes would never let me go.

  Well, they hadn’t. Not really, but that was becau
se Connor and I had bonded with one another heart and soul by then, despite our clan differences.

  He reached over and placed his hand on top of mine in response to my comment. No words, only a gentle squeeze of my fingers before he put his hand back on the steering wheel. That was all right; he didn’t need to say anything. He knew what his brother had put my family through, until it became clear to everyone that Connor was my soul mate, the one person the Goddess — the universe — had decided should be with me. Not to say they were exactly thrilled about that, either, at least not in the beginning, but even when my family still feared and distrusted all the Wilcoxes, they’d realized that Connor was definitely the lesser of two evils when compared to his brother Damon.

  Our drive took us through Sedona, which seemed fairly quiet, considering the time of year. Maybe it would get busier after Christmas. I was glad of the mostly open streets, though, because the farther away I got from Flagstaff, the more I itched to be back in Jerome. I couldn’t even say why, exactly, since I’d been there about a month and a half earlier — it wasn’t exactly what you could call a major separation. Still, something seemed to be pulling me home, as if my soul thirsted for something it could only find back in the hilly streets of the town where I’d grown up.

  And then we were past Cottonwood, climbing up the winding two-lane highway that led to Jerome. As I’d guessed, the snow looked as if it had mostly melted, although I could see a few patches gleaming here and there in the shadow of a tree or a boulder or a wall.

  It was late afternoon by that time, a steady stream of cars going in the opposite direction telling me that the tourists had packed it in for the day. No big surprise there; the streets in Jerome tended to roll up between five and six, except on Friday and Saturday nights. But this was Tuesday, and visitors didn’t have much reason to hang around.

  Because the garage was detached from the house and we had luggage and babies to wrangle, Connor parked in front rather than in the garage. I hadn’t been expecting the welcome wagon to roll out, but I was surprised to see, as we came to a stop in front of the big Victorian home that was now mine, that someone had put a pine wreath with a big red bow on the front door, and white icicle lights hung from all the eaves.

  “Wow,” Connor said. “Did you hire someone to come in and decorate or something?”

  “No,” I replied, puzzled. “I don’t know who did this. I mean, Rachel has a key, just in case of emergency and to let the cleaning crew in once a month, but….”

  Well, the mystery would have to wait to be answered. In the meantime, we had to get Ian and Emily into the house without being outside in the cold for too long, and then schlep all the luggage inside. Actually, Connor had to do most of the schlepping, since as soon as they were taken out of their car seats and into the icy evening air, the twins woke up and voiced their unhappiness. Loudly. Their cries seemed to echo all over the neighborhood as we hurried them inside. Even if people hadn’t noticed us drive up, I was pretty sure they knew by that point that Connor and I had arrived.

  So I juggled bottles and babies while Connor brought the luggage and diaper bags and everything else inside. While I stood in the entry, hanging onto the fretting twins and really wishing I had a third arm, I noticed that fresh green pine garlands had been wound around the banisters, and more rested on the mantel in the living room. Also, someone had to have come in and turned up the heat, getting the house ready for the prima and her family.

  The thought that one of my family members had taken that kind of care made me a little teary. All right, the tears were probably the post-baby hormones talking, but still. I didn’t know if it was Rachel or someone else — or maybe a couple of different people. Whoever it was had obviously wanted to send the message that we were welcome here in Jerome, no matter what might have happened in the past.

  Things were a little chaotic until we got the twins settled in their nursery on the second floor. They were still fussy, but not crying, and they didn’t need to be changed, so I figured it was safe to call Rachel and let her know we were here.

  While Connor hauled our luggage up to the master bedroom, I pulled out my cell phone and selected my aunt’s number from the contacts list. She answered right away.

  “So you made it here okay?”

  “Just fine,” I replied, repressing a smile. She always managed to act as if Flagstaff was hundreds of miles away instead of a little more than fifty. Maybe her attitude was just a leftover from the time when the town had been someplace off-limits to her and the rest of my clan. “I’ve got the twins down, but I don’t know how well they’re going to sleep, since they were conked for most of the drive over here.”

  “Well, I can manage either way.”

  Which of course she could. She’d raised me and still babysat a good number of the McAllister clan children off and on when she had time in her schedule. Luckily, Tobias liked little kids, so he didn’t seem to mind when she took on child-watching duties so people could get out to go shopping or go to the movies in Sedona or whatever. Unlike the Wilcoxes, who seemed more relaxed about having civilians around, the McAllister clan wasn’t generally too keen on allowing outsiders to watch their children, so babysitting tended to be a favor that got swapped around among the various clan members.

  “I really appreciate this, Rachel — ” I began, but she shushed me almost immediately.

  “It’s fine. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  Since I knew she didn’t want to hear any more thank-yous, I just said, “See you then,” and ended the call.

  Connor poked his head in the nursery door. “All set?”

  “Yes. She’s coming over now.”

  He came into the room and peered into the nearest crib, the one where I’d settled Ian. Our son was already starting to quiet down, dark lashes lying against his chubby cheeks.

  “They’re fine,” I whispered, since I was hoping both the twins would sleep most of the time we were down in Cottonwood, getting the tree.

  “They’re more than fine,” Connor said, then bent down to lay a soft kiss on my cheek. “They’re perfect.”

  Gazing down at Ian, I had to agree. Of course every parent thinks their baby is the most perfect thing in the world, but even unbiased observers had admitted that Ian and Emily were a couple of pretty gorgeous babies. They both had a thick down of dark hair already, and long lashes and little rosebud mouths. Every baby book I’d read said an infant’s eye color tended to change when they were between six and nine months old, but the twins’ eyes had already begun to shift toward green — Connor’s cloudy jade in Emily, and my dark emerald in Ian.

  “And sleeping,” I murmured, “which makes them even more perfect in my book.”

  Connor grinned at me, adding, “Then we should go downstairs to wait for Rachel and intercept her before she rings the doorbell. You know what kind of havoc that can cause.”

  Damn, he was right. I scooped up the receiver for the baby monitor from where it sat on top of the dresser, then hurried down the stairs, Connor at my heels. Good timing, too, because only a few seconds later I saw Rachel’s shadow through the tall, thin windows that flanked the front door.

  I opened it hastily before her finger even touched the bell. For a second her hazel eyes blinked at me in surprise, but I pointed upward and said significantly, “Sleeping.”

  “Ah.” She came into the foyer and gave me a hug, then went and wrapped her arms around Connor briefly before stepping away. He looked a little surprised at the greeting, but then he smiled. The warm-up between the two of them had been slower than I would have liked, but as soon as the twins came along, it was as if Connor could do no wrong.

  Trying not to smile, I asked, “Who put up all the decorations? They’re gorgeous.”

  “Oh, those?” She moved past me into the dining room so she could set her purse down on the table, then began unwrapping the wild multicolored knitted scarf she wore around her throat. “Kirby came up and helped me with those. I thought it would be nice
if the place looked festive when you arrived.”

  “That was really nice of you,” Connor said as he followed the two of us into the dining room.

  My aunt made a dismissive gesture. “Oh, it’s nothing. Some of the kids from the high school were up here selling garlands for a fundraiser, so I picked up some extra. And Kirby and his boyfriend had a great time getting up on ladders and hanging all those lights.”

  I supposed they did. Kirby was kind of fearless when it came to that sort of thing.

  “Anyway,” she went on briskly, “you go ahead and do your shopping. Might as well get a head start while the twins are still sleeping.”

  That was true. They were sleeping for now, but I had no idea how long that would last.

  “There are bottles in the fridge,” I told her, “and anything else you need should be up in the nursery. We won’t be long.”

  “Take as much time as you need. The prima’s house needs to have the perfect tree.”

  I could only smile and shake my head at that remark. Growing up, I’d never had a Christmas tree because Rachel practiced the old religion and didn’t see the point in cherrypicking which traditions to follow. True, Great-Aunt Ruby, the former prima, had always had a tree, but it wasn’t quite the same as having one in your own house. Still, to have Rachel encouraging me to get a tree now did seem to show how much she’d mellowed over the past few months.

  Promising to bring back the finest tree in Cottonwood, Connor and I retrieved our coats and then headed out. I couldn’t help glancing back at the house as we drove away.

  “They’ll be fine.”

  I shifted in my seat so I was facing forward again. “I know. Rachel’s a heck of a lot more of an expert about babies than I am. It’s just….”

  “I know. But we’ll only be fifteen minutes away.”

  True. Up until that moment, though, I hadn’t realized how much that knowing the Wilcox healer, Eleanor, lived close enough to be quickly on hand if we needed her for emergencies kept me from fretting over the twins too much. Now, though, if anything happened, they’d have to be transported to the medical center down in Cottonwood.