Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Did you wish for this?” Connor asked.

  “I hoped for it,” I replied. “Unfortunately, weather control is a bit beyond my powers. But maybe Tricia McAllister and some of our other weather-workers gave it a nudge.”

  It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility, although in general they tried not to meddle with the weather too much unless such intervention was necessary to avoid damage to crops or people. I didn’t know if giving the town a snowy Christmas Eve was necessary or not, but I definitely enjoyed watching it.

  “Well, I’d like to think a prima’s hopes had some power.” He moved closer, and then I felt his warm lips press against the side of my neck. A shiver ran through me at his touch.

  “Let’s get the babies down for the night,” I whispered.

  “Excellent suggestion.”

  We slipped away from the window and went upstairs so we could put the twins in their cribs and switch them over to their nightclothes. They’d been groggy enough that I hoped they wouldn’t wake up during that procedure. Unfortunately, they did wake up and started fussing. And fussing. And fussing.

  And then they needed changing, and so we had to get them cleaned up and into fresh diapers, and their onesies back on them after all that. Once we were done and they’d more or less begun to settle down, Connor arched a brow at me.

  “So…?”

  “So,” I said wearily, “nothing kills my libido faster than baby poop. Rain check?”

  He sighed. “I’ll add it to the stack.”

  Chapter 4

  The snow had stopped by the time we roused ourselves the next morning — Ian and Emily had slept until about three, but then they were up for more than an hour, and I sort of face-planted in the bed after that. Now it was almost seven, and I could hear them gearing up for another round of morning “feed me, change my diaper!” wailing.

  “Get in the shower,” Connor said, after taking a good, long look at my face. “You pumped enough last time that I should be able to give both of them a bottle.”

  “I love you, you know that?” I responded as I dragged myself out of bed.

  “Why yes, I think I do.”

  I had to kiss him then, but just a quick smack, nothing sultry or smoldering about it. After that I hurried into the bathroom, and tried to gear myself up for the day by taking a hot, soothing shower. Not nearly as long a shower as I would have liked, but better than nothing. By the time I emerged, the twins had been fed and changed, and put in their matching red-and-white striped onesies. Mostly I’d tried to avoid dressing them alike, but those onesies had been too cute to resist.

  Connor helped me take them downstairs in their baskets, and then he went back up for his own shower. In the meantime, I got a pot of coffee going, and opened the refrigerator to find that Rachel had left a tray of unbaked homemade biscuits there, ready to be popped into the oven.

  Blessings on you, Rachel, I thought, smiling as I went to turn on the oven. It wouldn’t be too hard to whip up a batch of scrambled eggs to go with those biscuits, so I got to work on those. I was just scooping them onto a pair of plates when Connor appeared in the kitchen.

  “What, a real breakfast?” he asked. “I mean, I like corn flakes as much as the next guy, but — ”

  “They’re not exactly what you should be eating on Christmas morning.” I set the plates down on the little table by the window, then went back to pull the biscuits out of the oven. “Rachel put these together for me, so I can’t take all the credit.”

  “She did? When did she sneak those in?”

  “I have no idea — but we witches have our ways.”

  “That you do.”

  I put the biscuits on a plate while Connor got a couple of mugs out of the cupboard and took them over to the table, along with the pot of fresh coffee. Then all we needed was some butter and some jam, and we were sitting down to a real feast, especially compared to the hurried breakfasts we’d been consuming for the past few weeks. Most days I was lucky to make it through a whole carton of yogurt. Too many distractions.

  Connor poured the coffee, and I looked over at the babies. They seemed to be completely sacked out — not surprising, considering how much they’d been up the night before. I could only hope they’d let us make it all the way through breakfast.

  “What time do we have to be at the hall?” Connor asked.

  “Around one. Rachel told me about fifty times to not worry about bringing anything, and for once I’m not going to argue with her. I suppose I could have made my cranberry sauce, but I’m sure someone else will pick up the slack.”

  “I would hope so.”

  He had no idea. The McAllister holiday dinner tended to result in mountains of leftover food, because of course everyone made too much, thinking there wouldn’t be enough. By comparison, the Wilcox potluck was a study in restraint. I’d heard they were still having it at one of the relatives’ houses, but it was a cousin I didn’t know very well. I had to hope they wouldn’t be too offended by Connor and me not attending this year. We couldn’t be in two places at once, and it had made more sense to stay down here after Lucas and Margot’s wedding, especially since Connor and I had been spending so much time in Flagstaff the past few months anyway.

  After breakfast, the twins woke up, but they seemed more interested in watching what the two of us were doing than crying, so we decided it was a good time to go back into the living room and exchange our own presents. Connor got to work on getting a fire going, and I went to the window to take a peek outside.

  Yes, the snow had stuck. Everything was covered in a soft blanket of white, mostly undisturbed, although I could see a few pairs of footprints in the center of Paradise Lane, the street where my house was located. Overhead, the sky was blue, with gray-white clouds drifting by, not enough of them to promise another round of snow. Just as well, since I wouldn’t have wanted to get the babies to and from the car while snow was falling. In times past, Connor and I would have walked down to Spook Hall from the house, even in the snow, but it was way too cold outside to do that while carrying a couple of newborns.

  Soon the fire had begun to crackle away in earnest, adding its own homey scent to the spiciness of the cinnamon pinecones Rachel had put in the bowl on the coffee table. Connor had plugged in the tree, and the little white lights glittered amongst the noble fir’s branches.

  Ian and Emily stared at it, wide-eyed. Their little brains were taking in so much information these days, I had no idea what they must have thought of this big and shiny thing sitting in the corner of the room.

  But then Connor was pulling a long, flat package out from underneath the tree. He handed it to me and said, “Merry Christmas. Or Yule,” he added hastily. “I’m still not sure which is the right thing to say around here.”

  “Either. Both,” I replied with a grin. “We celebrate Yule on the solstice, but most people like to have their Christmas, too.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “Not really. We McAllisters will take any excuse to party.”

  He chuckled a little at my reply, then watched as I took the package over to the couch and sat down. The box felt heavy, even though it wasn’t very deep, and I wondered what in the world could be inside. Only one way to find out, of course.

  I pulled off the wrapping paper, but carefully. I’d never been the type to rip a package open, anyway, but right then I wanted to avoid making too much noise, since the twins looked as if they were about to nod off again. Inside the paper was a plain white box. I lifted the lid, then let out a gasp.

  Inside was a heavy silver necklace set with turquoise in shades ranging from the palest Dry Creek variety to the deep blue-green shade of Santa Rosa stones. The effect was stunning, and unique. I knew I’d never seen anything like it before.

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “Where on earth did you get this?”

  A smile lit up Connor’s jade-green eyes. “I commissioned your father to make it. I wanted you to have something extra-special for our fi
rst Christmas as a married couple.”

  “It’s…amazing.” Tears stung my eyes. He’d gotten me something no one else would ever have, something for me as Angela, not Angela-the-mom or Angela-the-prima. How he’d managed to arrange the commission with my father without me finding out, I wasn’t sure. Clearly, my husband had even more talents than I’d previously realized.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Connor, I love it.” I was wearing my green cashmere open cardigan, since it was the most Christmas-y thing I owned, and the turquoise concho belt Connor had given me the previous year — and which only now fit me again. The new necklace would go perfectly with my outfit.

  “Can you put it on for me?” I asked.

  “Sure.” He came over and placed the necklace around my throat, lifting my hair out of the way so he could fasten the clasp. When he was done, he bent down so he could place a kiss on the back of my neck. A delicious shiver stole through me, and I gave the babies a quick glance. If they’d just sleep for a while longer….

  But no, I’d actually taken the time to fix my hair and put on my makeup, since I knew I’d be around all my relatives today, and so running upstairs for a quick tumble probably wasn’t the best idea. Anyway, I wanted my first time with Connor after the babies to be something special, not something squeezed into a scant ten minutes because that was all the time we had. Maybe that was a foolish wish, considering we had to put the needs of the twins before our own needs, but….

  I let out a small sigh, not one that Connor could actually hear. Or at least I hoped he hadn’t heard it. “Thanks, sweetheart,” I told him. “Your present is that square one there.”

  Not that it would have taken a rocket scientist to figure that one out, since it was the only package left under the tree. Connor went over and retrieved it, then came back and settled himself on the couch next to me.

  “It’s not — it’s not as personal as the one you got me,” I said as he removed the wrapping paper. “I couldn’t really think of what to get you, and things have been so crazy — ”

  He put a hand on my knee. “Angela, you know you’ve already given me the best present I could ever have, right?” His gaze strayed to the babies, now thoroughly conked out in their baskets, plump cheeks rosy in the reflected light from the hearth.

  I tilted my head at him. “I think you might have helped just a little bit in that department.”

  “But you did all the heavy lifting.” He returned his attention to the package in his lap and finished taking off the wrapping paper. “Whatever you got me, I know it’ll be perfect.” His eye widened as he saw the writing on the box. “An iWatch?”

  “Is it silly?” I asked. “I mean, it just seemed like you’re always holding a baby and trying to juggle your phone, so I thought having the watch might help — ”

  “It is not silly,” he said, leaning over so he could kiss me on the cheek. “It’s great. I’d actually thought about getting one, but then I worried it might be kind of extravagant — ”

  “A Wilcox, thinking something is extravagant?” I joked, relieved that he hadn’t thought the watch was a stupid idea. I’d gone back and forth with myself about a dozen times before I finally put the online order through.

  “Hey, we don’t all spend money the way Lucas does.” The smile he’d been wearing slipped away, and he held my gaze, as if wanting to make sure I knew he was serious. “It’s a perfect present. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. And I love mine. We’re going to be the finest tigers in the jungle at the McAllister family Christmas.”

  Right then, Emily decided to wake up and start fussing. I went and picked her up, but remembered to retrieve the little spit-up blanket that I’d tucked into one side of her basket. After all, I couldn’t exactly be the finest tiger in the jungle if I was wearing a sweater covered in baby drool.

  Both Connor and I managed to survive the next feeding and changing more or less intact, luckily, and a little before one o’clock we loaded the whole gang into the Cherokee and made our way down the hill to Spook Hall. Since everyone knew we’d have to drive, a spot had been left open for us right in front of the building.

  Connor maneuvered the SUV into the opening and remarked, “I didn’t know that an executive parking space came along with being prima.”

  “Hey, you gotta have some perks to go along with the hours.”

  He grinned and got out so he could lift Ian out of the back seat. I did the same on my side, extricating Emily from the seatbelts and making sure her blanket was tucked in up to her chin. We’d only be outside for a minute, but still, the temperature was still barely forty degrees. I didn’t want to take any chances.

  Snow crunched underfoot as we headed across the sidewalk and into the building. Quite a few people were already gathered there, and, as usual, the long buffet tables set up against the walls practically groaned with food. A tree covered in a motley collection of ornaments — contributions from all the various clan members — glittered from the stage area.

  Almost at once Connor and I were surrounded by family members, all of whom wanted a peek at the twins. I’d worried that all the commotion would be too much for them, but they stared up at the newcomers with wide green eyes and seemed ready to take things in stride — for now. We’d already agreed to beat a hasty retreat if and when the twins seemed to be overloaded.

  And, as I’d told Connor, rank hath its privileges. We didn’t have to jockey for a seat at one of the tables that had been set up, but were led to a place of honor up near the stage, with extra chairs set near ours so we’d have a place to put the twins’ car carriers. That made things a little more manageable, since people could come up to us as space allowed, rather than being surrounded on all sides by cousins I hadn’t seen for a few months.

  Luckily, no mother gets tired of hearing people praise her babies, although after a while my cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much. Rachel and Tobias came to sit with us, and Kirby and his boyfriend Jordan, who was a civilian but was in on the McAllister “secret.” He seemed like a nice guy, quiet in contrast to the voluble Kirby. But at least Kirby’s story about the uproar over who should get Adam’s apartment over the chocolate shop, now that he’d moved up to Flagstaff to be with Mason Wilcox, kept us all occupied while the rest of the family swarmed in. And kudos to my cousin Bridget, who’d snagged the apartment. Housing was at a premium in tiny Jerome.

  As always, I wondered how all my relatives would fit into the hall, which was a big building, but not that big. But, as always, they did manage to find places to sit down, although I was glad that Connor would be on food-fetching duty, allowing me to stay where I was and not have to thread my way through the crowd.

  We really didn’t get down to actually eating until well after two, and my stomach was rumbling. The hunger pangs didn’t last for long, though, once I settled down to consuming the plate of ham and turkey and mashed potatoes and everything else Connor had brought me.

  “I’m not still eating for three, you know,” I pointed out as I stared at the food remaining on my plate. My stomach already felt dangerously full, and we hadn’t even gotten to desert yet.

  “I know,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll just finish off whatever you can’t eat.”

  Which he would. I had no idea where he put it, but there was no denying that Connor was able to eat like a horse and yet not put on a pound. More Wilcox witchcraft? Maybe, although I’d been that way once upon a time myself. I’d have to see how much my metabolism bounced back after I’d fully recovered from my pregnancy.

  Because there was no way I’d pass up a slice of Aunt Rachel’s cherry pie — or a thinner slice of apple — I did manage to get it all down. Whether I’d eat again for a week was debatable, though.

  Well, all right. I’d probably have a small snack later that night to tide me over. It was kind of amazing how being a nursing mother could make you so darn hungry all the time. I couldn’t eat as much at a sitting as I had when I was pregnant, but
I found myself wanting to graze more than was probably healthy. However, I’d managed to squeeze myself into some jeans from my fourth month of pregnancy, so I felt like I was making progress.

  As I was sitting there, thanking the Goddess that the babies had remained mellow throughout the entire meal, I heard a small commotion off to one side of the room and shifted in my seat to see what was going on. As I watched, I saw a blonde girl around my age get up from her seat and storm out, followed by my cousin Evan, his face set in cold anger.

  “What was that about?” Connor asked, expression puzzled.

  “Trouble in paradise,” I murmured. “I’d better go see what’s going on. There are bottles in the diaper bag if the twins wake up.”

  Then I rose from my seat and headed toward the front door of the hall. I noticed that pretty much everyone in attendance was making sure not to look at me, or where I was headed. Making a scene at a family party was a big no-no — but Evan’s wife Kelly obviously didn’t care.

  Then again, she was a civilian. There were a whole lot of things she either didn’t know or didn’t care about. Judging by my previous impressions of her, I’d say it was the latter.

  All right, I wasn’t exactly unbiased in my opinion of Kelly McAllister. Back in the day, I’d had kind of a crush on Evan, and if he hadn’t gotten married so soon after meeting Kelly — against the wishes of the clan elders — then he would have been in the pool of candidates to be my consort. Of course that had all worked out for the best, but back then I hadn’t known I would one day be with Connor. I’d only seen the best-looking of my cousins get hooked up with a girl I didn’t like very much, and it annoyed the hell out of me.

  Evan was standing on the street corner, arms crossed in anger. Or maybe that was just in an effort to keep himself from freezing; he wore a fleece pullover, but it wasn’t exactly warm enough to be standing outside for any length of time.