Angie heard him coming up the hall, his eager steps tapping on the marble floor. It changed to a quiet thud on the cushioned flooring in the sitting room and soon he was behind her. While turning to gaze on the expression she felt certain would be forever branded in her thoughts, Trevor pulled her in. The stocking hung from her hand as she wrapped her arms around his neck. In this short time, Trevor had grown to love her, and she recognized its intensity streaming through every line in his face and in every search of his lips. Previously, her grown-up mentality scoffed at the idea of love at first sight but now she marveled that such a depth of relationship could grow so quickly. Angie’s heart tangled within his web and tonight she abandoned the struggle to resist him.
“You may wonder why I asked you here at this late hour?”
“I was hoping it was because it guaranteed privacy,” Angie said.
“Yes, and it would also guarantee you’d finally open your Christmas stocking and we could thank the Miracle-Maker for his leading all along, despite our stubbornness.”
“I must admit that you’ve piqued my curiosity about the contents of this stocking. You say it holds a miracle, magic and us. You’ve definitely grabbed my attention.”
“Finally.”
“You made that point clear. But I am a fan of His perfect timing. Perhaps he wanted the reveal to happen when we were on speaking terms.” Angie held back the grin.
“Good point.”
“So, can we proceed with the unveiling?”
Angie moved to a nearby couch and Trevor sat next to her. Slowly, to irritate Trevor who watched her every movement, she stood the stocking on its foot and began to feel from the outside.
“This makes a crackling sound – I think it’s paper or thicker like construction paper. Did you draw me a picture?”
“Maybe. Enough with the questions. Will you get to it?”
Angie dug inside with her fingers where she’d detected the paper. In response to her slow-motion approach, she received an annoying click with his tongue. She bit back a teasing smile.
“Patience, my dear man.” Angie withdrew it and smiled. “Art is not your gifting, I see. But I l recognize the heart and the initials. T.D. loves Angie. Must have been before the big surname reveal, huh?” Grateful that no painful expression found its way into his face, she continued. “I think I got one of these in the first grade, except it read S.J. loves A.P.”
“Are you going to drag this out all night? You’re killing the mood.”
“Not my intention at all, Mr. Romance. I shall tape this tiny souvenir inside my happily-ever-after portfolio with the others.”
“You’re teasing, right?”
“Maybe.” She kissed him on the cheek. “And maybe not.”
“Keep digging. There are still a few things in there. Tried to discourage my clients from depositing treasures inside your stocking but they did it to spite me. I think I’m a push-over.”
Angie laughed as she withdrew a picture book on owls. “Something for the kids?”
“Kids? Our kids?” Trevor appeared shocked that she’d bring the subject up. “How many do you want?”
“How many bedrooms do I have at the Inn?”
“Surely not!” A look of horror crossed Trevor’s face, and she laughed.
“You are an easy target. Rest assured, children will wait until after I marry Prince Charming, and then perhaps two might be a good number to strive for.”
“Two – I can live with two.”
“Are you proposing, sir, when I haven’t even opened my stocking yet?”
“Get to it, woman. You can be so aggravating. This is something new I’m learning about you.”
Angie felt around the outside and went for the sharp-edged object. She withdrew a screwdriver and laughed. “This is from Sammy, the maintenance man. A while back I woke him in the night because I couldn’t find the right head to remove a screw. He’s never let me live it down. This multi-ended driver will ensure he sleeps peacefully – until the next crisis.”
“What were you doing fixing stuff in the middle of the night?” He realized he’d fallen into her trap again and groaned. “Stop it! You have a talent for confusing me with your distractions. Would you just pick mine – please?”
“Saving the best for the last, Trevor. I always eat the red-covered chocolate candies last, you know, like the little ditty suggests. How about you?”
“Grr…”
Angie smiled and reached inside the stocking one last time. She withdrew a Christmas ornament, with a small Santa label attached. She exclaimed. “Trevor – I love it! How perfect is a set of his and her owls, donning cute little Santa hats and perched on a tree branch? You learned your owl lessons well.”
“I got this before I visited your barn or even knew you. But I did find it rather odd tonight that the male bird came bearing gifts of red and white woolly hats.”
“Agreed. That was odd, and to be honest, I’m not even sure where he found such tiny hats let alone knew that it belonged on her head.”
“It’s all part of the magic. Read the card,” Trevor said.
“Find the girl that houses the counterpart?” Angie puckered her brow. “Who wrote this?”
“Santa Claus or his Mrs., I’m guessing. The return address on my manila envelope was Santa Ville, North Pole. Express post.”
Angie recognized it as the same story Mrs. Dristoll told yesterday. It sounded just as bizarre today coming from Trevor’s lips. Angie cast him a look of unbelief, which brought the man to his knees.
“I swear! Not a word of a lie. You can ask my mother tomorrow. She was there when the mailman delivered it. And it just so happens the timing on that end was perfect too. It arrived when I was packing for this tour.”
“Yep, pretty perfect timing,” agreed Angie. She’d not snitch on his mother, just in case he felt betrayed by her disloyalty to his strange secret. If she’d been the one to receive such a gift, Angie wouldn’t have wanted anyone spreading this preposterous yarn, especially to a complete stranger.
“When it came in the mail I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. Figured it was a prank. I’d have left the love-birds home but my mother slipped the ornament in the top of my bag. I only found it after I was out on the road.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t pitch it in the nearest garbage can when you discovered it in your suitcase.”
“It crossed my mind but I knew my mother would freak at the missed opportunity for true love.”
“And when you read the brochure about my owls in the barn – is that what enticed you to Heritage Inn?”
“No! That part scared me half to death. I’d have abandoned the whole idea but my mother wouldn’t hear of it. I must admit it was the beaches drew finally me here – nothing about owls, finding true love, or Christmas in July.”
“Glad to hear water won over your fear of all-things-Christmas. To your credit, you’ve handled the holiday theme well. And then to think you brought your own owl ornament for the tree.” She stroked his arm playfully. “Your story sounds very mysterious to me, Trevor Dristoll.”
“No – let’s go with a miracle, alright?” his eyes pleaded. “Angie, tell me I’m not crazy.”
Angie relaxed. What did it matter, as long as it brought them together?
“I’ve learned never to question the hand of God, or in this case, his hand extended to the Claus family, who are all about the spirit of giving and uniting lost and lonely hearts.”
Trevor jumped to his feet. “Yes! It all makes sense when you say it.”
“Angie stood and reached for his hand. “Come with me.”
They walked to the fully decorated tree and stopped. “Where shall we hang it?”
“Close to the angel at the top. The entire works of them are in cahoots and should rejoice together.” He ran for the stepladder in the corner and placed it at the front of the tree. Trevor watched Angie as she climbed to the top, stretched, and rested the love-owls on a branch. At the last minute
, she lost her balance and tumbled backward into Trevor’s arms.
“Got you,” he said. “Now this is better. But, one thing is missing from all these decorations.”
“Mistletoe?” Angie asked. A grin spread over his face.
Angie led him to a window, overlooking the water and rolling hills in the far distance, and pointed up to the top casing. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
“You read my mind.”
“Oh? I believe I heard your mind speak out loud a moment ago.”
“It doesn’t want to speak anymore. Can we seal this miracle with a kiss, lovely lady?”
Angie snuggled into the shelter of his arms and heard loneliness flee the room. “This feels so right, Trevor Dristoll.”
“Perfect.”
Trevor lowered his mouth on hers and claimed her love. Time stood still while the heartbreak of seven long months raced to catch up to this moment she now shared with the man whom she’d grown to love.
The memories, both good and bad, were part of who they were today. Angie Parkinson was the woman God had chosen for Trevor Dristoll. She could almost hear her mother weeping with joy and see her father sizing the man up to determine if he was good enough for his daughter. Even Jerrod shared the moment. Angie heard his remorse and his final whisper of apology.
It was a bizarre way to start a kiss, but when the ghostly dust settled, Angie surrendered fully, and time became a ray of hope reaching far into the future.
****************************************************
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Christmas Owls in July (Ornamental Match Maker Series Book 19) Page 9