“Promise?”
“Yep. But you’ve got to promise me you’ll make some really cool decorations for it today.”
“I will. With pinecones and lots of sparkles.”
His earnest tone and wide eyes tickled Reece. He gave him a thumbs up, thinking how great it would be to have a son like Brandon. What kind of loser would abandon his own kid?
Standing here in the bright winter sunlight, inhaling the fresh scent of evergreen, Reece allowed himself to imagine Ellie and Brandon were his. And for a moment a warm contentment filled him.
They dropped Brandon off at the little Santa house where Reece’s sister and her son Tommy held an open workshop every Saturday for kids to make Christmas decorations. Between that and Santa’s visits and the Santa train that buzzed around the farm, he hoped there would be enough to amuse Brandon while Ellie worked the day in the gift shop.
He introduced Ellie to his sister Claire, and the two women discussed things like scissor safety and what hour Brandon would eat lunch. But Reece noticed his sister sizing up Ellie. Yesterday she’d told him he had that ‘you’ve met someone’ look.
Was she right? Was this meant to be? Was that why he’d seen Ellie’s face when he nearly died?
He sure wouldn’t find it difficult to fall in love with Ellie. A good part of him was already halfway there. But he could tell she didn’t really trust him. Reece took a deep breath and tried to let go of that strange, insistent longing that had taken hold of him since he met her.
But as he walked her back to the Christmas shop, he couldn’t stop himself from taking Ellie’s hand. She didn’t pull away. Or tense up. Or say, “Let’s not do this.”
No, she wrapped her gloveless fingers around his hand, returning the gentle squeeze he gave hers.
And it felt so darn right.
**
Ellie chatted with a customer as she rang up his purchase. A set of reindeer bells on a red leather strap and a Frosty the Snowman music box. She’d just completed her second full week working at Reece Madsen’s Christmas shop and could hardly believe how much she loved being here.
Most of the time she felt like she was playing in Santa’s workshop. Aside from an occasional rush on the weekends, she had time to talk and be friendly with customers. The paper work was easy, unloading stock fed her need to handle the pretty objects in the store, and making hot chocolate and coffee was fun when she saw how delighted people were to find it.
Of course, if she ever wanted to move out of the apartment over Mr. Felsky’s garage she needed a “real” job, and so far none of the interviews she’d gone to had produced an offer. But secretly, she couldn’t help wishing this weren’t just a holiday stint.
Would she see Reece once she left here? He’d taken her out to lunch a couple times. Were they dates? He’d also taken her and Brandon ice skating. So maybe whatever was going on between them was just friendship. Wasn’t that what she preferred anyway?
The answer came with the little jump her heart did as he walked in the door of the shop. It was a Saturday, so Brandon pattered along next to him, his cheeks rosy from the cold, his expression elated from the company of the man he so clearly adored.
Reece stepped close to her, smelling of evergreen and fresh, icy winter. A shudder went through her when she looked up into his sea-blue eyes.
“Time to close up shop, Ellie-belle.”
Brandon burst out in a high-pitched giggle. “Ellie-belle. That’s a funny one, Mom.”
Hand on her hip, she said, “Okay, Fleecey-Reece.” Which sent Brandon into another round of laughter.
“Guess what, Mom? Reece showed me the tree. It’s really, really big.” At dusk Reece would hold his annual Christmas tree lighting celebration with the public invited to join. “And I’m gonna be the one who gives the signal for the lights to go on.”
“Woo-hoo.” Ellie tapped knuckles with her son in congratulations.
“And you know that star I made and gave to Reece? Well, it’s hanging right on the front of the tree for everybody to see!”
Ellie gasped in wonder and gave Brandon a hug. He squirmed away, too big for that mushy mom stuff these days. She cut a grateful look at Reece, but he turned away quickly. She guessed she ought to know by now that he would never openly acknowledge the things he did for her and Brandon.
Outside, the air had that nippy winter bite but was shot through with a festive energy. People greeted them as they walked to a clearing on a hill. Ellie knew her share of the tree farm’s staff by now. Of course, there was Santa, a local fisherman named Steve who regaled the children every weekend. But she’d also met a number of the men and women who planted, fertilized and pruned the trees over the years, ever vigilant for bugs and disease. And although young Tommy produced some lovely decorations every Saturday, it was Trudy who worked full time during this season making wreathes, grave blankets, kissing balls and holiday corsages.
“Look at all the people, Mom!”
Brandon dashed ahead of them toward a tree that looked maybe forty feet tall. Ellie’s jaw dropped and Reece grinned at her.
“That Norway Spruce was here when I bought the tree farm. To think I was going to build condos here.”
“What? That doesn’t sound like you at all, Reece.”
“Another lifetime,” he mumbled, his face clouded over. “Excuse me, I’ve got to check with the electricians and make sure everything’s good to go.”
Apparently it was, because within minutes she saw Reece approach the tree with Brandon on his shoulders. He held up a hand for silence, wished everyone a happy holiday, and announced that Brandon would be doing the honors. Reece then passed the remote to Brandon and voila—a burst of colorful, glorious lights.
Christmas carols played over a loudspeaker and people began to sing along. Ellie lost sight of both Reece and Brandon. It was full dark now. Her mother-hackles began to rise, but then a warm hand took hers. (She almost wished she hadn’t worn her gloves tonight.)
“Don’t worry,” Reece said. “Santa’s got them rounded up for a game with some pretty neat prizes.”
“Not those annoying little whistles you showed me. Oh, gee, that’s just what I need. May Santa bring me earplugs.”
“He might. It all depends.”
“On what?”
“If you’re naughty or nice.”
His face moved closer to hers, their warm breath steaming the air between them, eyes lingering on each other, as they often did.
“Thank you,” Ellie murmured. “For giving me so much more than a job. Brandon and I are both changing because of you. I see it happening before my eyes. I was always so angry and now I—”
In one swift movement Reece pressed his lips to hers, his mouth gentle, but insistent. Ellie’s hand reached up, touching his face. His arm circled her waist, pulling her closer. He deepened his kiss before stepping away, leaving Ellie dizzy and wanting more.
With his arm around her shoulder, Reece added his voice to the fa-la-la chorus of “Deck the Halls.” She slipped her arm around his waist and sang one carol after the next until her throat grew hoarse.
They all walked back to the outdoor fireplace near Santa’s house for coffee or hot chocolate and holiday cookies. Then Ellie drove home with her spirits soaring.
Until Brandon said, “Let’s call Daddy and tell him about how I lit that mega-saurus Christmas tree.”
**
It was only a week before Christmas when Reece walked up the driveway to a garage and climbed the outdoor stairs to an apartment above it. His tree farm was closed to visitors on Mondays so he’d hoped to get here earlier, but other business needs took over. He rang the doorbell, and that familiar anticipation made his heart beat faster.
It happened now every time he went too long without seeing Ellie. It wasn’t just that he found himself missing her. It was that his mind started conjuring all sorts of things that could take her away from him.
Like an accident. Or another job. Or another guy.
&n
bsp; Get a grip, man.
The door opened and he looked up to see Ellie’s bright smile. Except she wasn’t smiling. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you bring the tree?”
“Yep. But I need both hands. So here.” He handed her a brown paper bag.
“What’s this?”
He grinned. “Didn’t you say you and Brandon like moo goo gai pan?”
She shook her head. “Do you remember every word I say?”
“Try to.” He turned and headed for his truck.
Ellie set the bag down and followed. “Can I help?”
“Get back inside. It’s twenty degrees out.” Reece scolded her, but he couldn’t deny enjoying the way she looked in her short skirt and blouse instead of the jeans she usually wore at the farm. Had she dressed up for him? Or… “Job interview?”
She nodded. “But no offer yet.”
Ignoring his orders, she accompanied him to the truck and helped him yank out the seven-foot tree. He hefted the base onto his shoulder and Ellie lifted the tip behind him. Inside, she had the stand ready and waiting, and Reece managed to set it in with little trouble.
He glanced around. The apartment was small, but clean, with very little furniture or knick-knacks. An old gray sofa and a quilted leather lounge chair in the living room. A simple square dining table across the way.
“Uh-oh. Something’s burning,” he said, sniffing the air.
Her shoulders slumped. “I was making Christmas cookies for Brandon to take to school. They’re having a party and I promised him I’d bake something. But I’m just the worst…”A sob escaped her.
Reece folded his arms around her. “Whoa. Eeeeasy. We’re talking about cookies going up in smoke. Not all of civilization. By the way, where is the little guy?”
“In his room. Sulking. I let him down again.”
“You’re always so hard on yourself.”
“It’s not just the cookies. And it kind of is the equivalent of Brandon’s civilization going up in smoke.”
“Come on. We better talk about this. Let’s have a seat.”
They settled in on the living room couch. Ellie glanced at her son’s bedroom door and lowered her voice. “Brandon is demanding his father’s phone number. He’s decided he’s old enough to call his daddy himself whenever he wants to. If you remember, it’s my brother in Oregon who plays daddy on the phone. Well, he has three daughters who rule the roost. Even his cell isn’t sacred. Not to mention that David uses his own name on the voice-mail message. I can’t give Brandon that number.”
“Maybe it’s just as well. Maybe it’s time you squared away with your son. He’s going to find out sooner or later on his own, and he’ll resent you for it.”
Ellie burst into tears. “I’m just like my mother.”
“So you both sucked at baking cookies.”
“No. You don’t get it. She was a total screw up. We couldn’t depend on her for anything. No wonder my dad left her. Course that doesn’t say much for him either.” She pushed herself away from Reece. “I shouldn’t go into all this. You don’t need to hear it.”
He pulled her back to him. “Wrong. I want you tell me.” He touched her hand. “Don’t you know by now how much I care about you?”
Reece held his breath waiting for her reaction. After a silent pause that made every muscle in him tighten, she looked at him, a tear streaming down her smooth cheek, and whispered, “Thank you.”
“How old were you when your dad left?”
“Seven. My brother was nine. Mom was always getting fired. We moved from one place to another. I remember once we had to leave in the middle of the night because she couldn’t pay the back rent she owed. The dear woman tried in her own careless way, and I’m grateful for everything she did. But I swore I’d be different. And here I am doing the same things to Brandon.”
“Hardly the same, Ellie. He’s well fed and well cared for.”
“Until the money runs out. I haven’t found a job yet.”
“You will.” He wanted to say he’d lend her whatever money she needed. Heck, what he really wanted was to ask her if she’d let him take care of her for the rest of their lives. But he knew she had her stubborn pride, and he still wasn’t sure how much she returned his feelings.
Ellie nodded. “You’re right. I’ll find a job. I can handle that. But I’m not sure I can handle telling Brandon about his father. It’ll crush him.” Her voice cracked. Tears came again. “I am such a horrible mother. I’ve done everything wrong.”
Reece held her and said, “We all make mistakes. If I told you the mistakes I made…”
“You? You’re about as perfect as any human gets.”
Boy, that felt good. Even if it wasn’t true. Reece shook his head. “One of these days I’ll tell you how wrong you are on that one. Tonight, let’s stick to you. Beginning with those burnt offerings in the kitchen. Did you like the cookies we had at the tree lighting party?”
“They were the best.”
“The woman who made them is a friend. I ordered twenty boxes of them from her. And I have six boxes sitting in my office waiting for a destination. I think I’ve just found it.”
“You mean a destination like inside little tummies?”
“Bullseye.”
“I’ll go tell him.” Ellie jumped up, but before she even crossed the room she balked. “On second thought, I’m still in the doggie house. How would you feel about breaking the news?”
“My pleasure.”
Reece went to the door Ellie pointed out and knocked. “Brandon? I’m bringing you the best cookies in town to take to your class tomorrow. I’m going out to get them now. And when I come back, I want to see the moo goo gai pan eaten and some of those special decorations you made hanging on this very special tree.”
Figuring Brandon might want to take his time, Reece headed out.
When he returned, the tree had lights on it, and Ellie and her son seemed to have come to a stiff-lipped truce.
Reece set a shopping bag down in front of Brandon. “Cookie delivery.”
“What do you say, Brandon?”
“Thank you, Reece. But most especially for the Christmas tree.”
Brandon gave him a show-and-tell of the decorations he’d made, and they cracked open one of the cookie tins to share as they trimmed the tree. Ellie made popcorn and hot cider and cast a silent, thankful glance at Reece when he got Brandon bantering and laughing.
Of course it was Reece that Brandon wanted to read his bedtime story, telling his mom no girls were allowed when she tried to join them.
When Brandon fell asleep, Reece left the room knowing fatherhood was something he didn’t want to miss out on.
Finding Ellie cleaning up in the kitchen, he took her hand and led her to the kissing ball he’d brought and hung in a corner of the living room.
“Did you know that kissing balls were originally made entirely of mistletoe because that’s how mistletoe grows? In the shape of a ball. It was the Scandinavians who started the whole kissing beneath mistletoe thing. And since I’m Norwegian it’s important I keep up the tradition.”
She laughed.
He drew her into his arms and dipped his head, gently tasting her sweet lips.
**
One day until Christmas Eve, which would be Ellie’s last day on this job. She tried not to get too bummed about it, but she loved this quaint and homey shop with its happy colors and fun things to look at. She’d had three job interviews in offices that looked so dismal compared to this that when they did not hire her she was almost glad.
But the reality of it was that she needed a job ASAP.
And while that worried her, she couldn’t help the giddy elated mood she’d been in lately. Reece came over every night for the past week and their deepening relationship made her feel like a starry-eyed teen. Her horrible marriage to Len had left her so cynical. But Reece was changing that. Aside from being gorgeous, he was so caring, so warm and sweet.
A real straight shooter. Almost too good to be true.
The bells over the door jingled. A frizzy-haired brunette with high cheekbones used her right foot to pin the door open while stabilizing the stack of tins in her arms with her chin.
Ellie rushed over to help.
“It’s okay. I’ve got it,” said the woman. “Want these on the counter?”
“This must be our customers’ holiday cookie orders?” Ellie said, noting the familiar cookie tins. “Are you the legendary baker Sheila Wooley?”
“Last I checked. And you must be Ellie. Reece told me about you.”
Ellie felt her cheeks go hot and wondered what Reece had said about her. “My son loves your ginger biscuits.”
“Oh, that’s right. He mentioned you had a little boy.”
Her ego climbed another notch. Reece’s offering the extra tidbit on her child had to mean something about his feelings for her. Wanting to return the favor, Ellie conjured up a quasi-compliment to toss at Sheila. “Reece told me you’re a very special friend.”
“Get out.”
“Honestly.”
“Really? What other fake stories did he spin?” Her words were flat and poked a hole in Ellie’s happy mood.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Sheila slouched to one side and stared down at the counter, plying the glass with her fingertip. “Just how well do you actually know Reece Madsen?”
Brows knit into a pensive frown, she said, “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”
Sheila snorted a tiny laugh. “In other words, you’re sleeping with him.”
“We’re done. Got that?” Ellie snapped.
“Hey, I know it’s tough hearing this. After all, he’s a great guy. Or at least part of him is anyway. And he’s what every woman dreams of in bed. So naturally, hearing what I have to say makes me the quintessential messenger you want to kill. I get it, believe me. Consider my words a sign of my not wanting to see another decent woman scooped up and later dumped liked some old shirt. It’s just not right.”
Out of the blue Ellie found herself being pulled into an unexpected mind game. At uncomfortable times like this her decision would be to go silent in hopes the other party would retreat and find other ways to amuse themselves. But right now it seemed Sheila was intent on keeping the thing alive.
Be Mine for Christmas Page 3