Christmas in The Sisters: A Holiday Mystery Novel (The Sisters, Texas Mystery Series Book 6)

by Becki Willis

  “This is going to be an awesome Christmas,” she whispered, accepting his kiss beside the twinkling lights. “Our first Christmas together.”

  “The first of many to come, I hope,” he murmured.

  “Yes, please.”

  “We’re still on for Christmas morning, right?”

  “Yes. We have Christmas Eve at noon with your family, dinner at Granny Bert’s, Christmas morning here, noon at Shannon’s, then dinner again here with our friends.”

  “I don’t know whether to starve myself for the next two days, or eat as much as I can and stretch my stomach. That’s a lot of Christmas dinners and desserts in just two days,” Brash laughed.

  “I know. Isn’t it great?” She hugged him, her heart filled with joy. “Last Christmas was such a blur. The last two or three Christmas have been, if I’m being honest. I can’t remember the last time I was looking forward to the holiday this much.”

  “I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

  “You’ll be here, won’t you?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Then I won’t be disappointed. In fact, I don’t care if I don’t get a single gift. As long as you, Bethani, Blake, and Megan are all here, I have everything I need. Having my parents here is like the bow on top of my perfect present.”

  “Hey, why didn’t you tell me this before I bought your gift?” he teased. “I could have saved thirty-five bucks!”

  “Very funny, mister. And totally fine. Love is supposed to be free, after all.”

  “And best of all, mine comes with a money-back guarantee. At the end of ninety-nine years, if you aren’t completely satisfied, you get your full investment back.”

  “Ninety-nine years, huh? Sounds like a solid deal. Can I get that in writing?”

  Brash fought the urge to go down on one knee, right then and there. But he didn’t have the ring back. Yet. He talked to the judge and the DA, and both had agreed to release the ring before Christmas, so that he could give it to her as planned. He knew Megan was looking forward to being part of their special moment. It was important to him to include their children in their marriage, right from the start.

  Reining in his enthusiasm, he dropped a kiss onto her nose and promised, “In triplicate.”

  Christmas morning would be here soon enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Snow on Christmas was never an option in east central Texas, but at least December 25 dawned cold and frosty. So often, it was warm on the holiday, but this year was a pleasant exception.

  Madison was up early, bustling about in the kitchen while she prepped for breakfast. Keeping with a tradition she and Gray had started when the twins were toddlers, she crept up the stairs and hung a stocking on each of their doors.

  When the children were little, the stockings were filled with token toys and small pieces of candy or fruit, meant to appease them in their rooms as their parents put the final changes on gifts from Santa. As the twins matured, so did the presents, morphing into stickers and colored pens and puzzles and such. They still received stockings on the mantel, but these were their pre-stockings, as Blake liked to call them.

  This year had been particularly challenging. At sixteen, their tastes had evolved beyond Madison’s meager budget. Still, there were nail polishes and hair ribbons for Bethani, fishing gadgets and a small flashlight for Blake. The rest of their gifts were tucked into their official stockings, or wrapped in pretty paper beneath the tree.

  Brash and Megan arrived promptly at eight o’clock, their arms filled with boxes. Cutter arrived soon behind him, his arms just as full.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind me and Genny tagging along onto your Christmas?” Cutter asked, tucking his fiancé under his arm once he deposited the gifts.

  Madison put her hands onto her hips. “If you ask me that question one more time, I’m going to lie and tell you yes, I do mind. Now not another word. Like it or not, you and Genny are family.”

  “Okay,” he grinned, “but I can’t promise we’ll be here next year on Christmas morning.” He smiled down at the love of his life. “I’d like to think we might be celebrating our own baby’s first Christmas by then.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, big guy!” Genny laughed, blushing prettily. “Let’s get through the wedding, before we start planning a family.”

  “February fourteenth can’t come too soon for me. I wish it was yesterday, so we’d already be married by now.”

  “Aw, what a sweet thing to say,” Madison smiled. “I still say you’re cheating yourself out of a present every year, Genny, being that your anniversary will be Valentine’s Day, but whatever makes you happy makes me happy.”

  Genny beamed up at her handsome and younger boyfriend. “This guy right here,” she admitted. “He’s what makes me happy.”

  Feeling the same about Brash, Madison nodded in full understanding. “I love the new pajamas he gave you, by the way.”

  Genny’s newest sleepshirt was fire-engine red and said, ‘I’m so hot, I come with my own firefighter’ emblazoned across the front.

  Keeping to tradition, all the women were still in their nightclothes for gifts and breakfast. Madison wore a demure and modest peignoir set in filmy moss green, a perfect complement for her coloring. Blake, Bethani, and Megan all wore matching Christmas pajamas. They were Christmas Eve gifts from their respective parents, who had selected the outfits together. Happy wore a flowing set of simple white robes, but topped it off with a festive Santa hat. Granny, who hadn’t planned to come until Brash made a secret and special request for her presence, came in her flannel gown and robe.

  They opened stockings first, and then had breakfast. As they devoured breakfast casseroles and baked French toast, crispy strips of bacon and fat sausages, scrambled eggs, and southern-style grits, the doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone else until this evening, Madison asked Brash to see who it was while she put on another pot of coffee.

  He swung the door open with a hearty greeting of, “Merry Christmas!”

  A well-dressed couple stood on the threshold, their faces set in surprise. The woman was decked out in all her Christmas finery, a shiny ensemble of muted golds and red. She was wrapped in a full mink coat and had diamonds on all her fingers and pearls at her neck. The man beside her wore a dark blue business suit, snazzed up for the holiday with a festive red handkerchief and matching tie, both hand-embroidered with tiny mistletoe.

  “May I help you?” Brash asked, thinking the well-to-do couple must be lost.

  “Are you the butler?” the woman asked frostily, her eyes sweeping over his casual attire with obvious disdain. Maddy had fully approved of his snug-fitting jeans and solid red western shirt, but not this woman. She peered at him down her aristocratic nose, which was quite an impressive feat, considering he towered over her.

  “Hardly!” he laughed. “Actually, I’m the chief of police. Is there something I can help with you?”

  “Yes. You can tell our grandchildren we’re here to see them. And you can fetch the gifts from the car, if you please.”

  Brash’s heart sank. This was hardly the audience he had intended for his grand proposal.

  “Well? Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to allow us inside?” the woman demanded. “This is our daughter-in-law’s home, is it not? Madison Reynolds.”

  “Yes, this is Maddy’s home,” he said smoothly. He held out his hand to the other man. “You must be Blake and Bethani’s grandparents. Brash deCordova.”

  “Charles Reynolds. This is my wife, Annette.”

  There were no false pleasantries, no empty ‘nice to meet you’ from either side. Sizing each other up like opponents on a wrestling mat, Brash kept his gaze steady and pensive as he studied first Charles, and then Annette. He didn’t want to overstep his bounds, but he was certain by this time next year, this would be his home, too. Sooner than that, if he had a say in the matter. And he was equally certain he knew how Madison would feel about her in-laws being here to
day. She would tolerate them for her children’s sake, just as Brash was willing to do. But there was no way in Santa’s wonderland he would allow them to walk all over or to verbally abuse the woman he loved. The sooner he made that clear to them, the better.

  “We’re having breakfast before we open presents. Would you care to join us?”

  “I hardly think it’s your place to invite us for breakfast,” Annette sniffed. “You don’t live here. Or do you?” She added the last with pointed accusation.

  “No, but I’m a frequent guest. I believe this is your first time to visit, correct?” He followed the smooth reprimand with one of his more charming smiles. “It’s a gorgeous old home, don’t you think?”

  He kept them standing in the cold until they agreed with him.

  “You can put your coat away through there,” he suggested, motioning toward a small closet beneath the stairs. He didn’t want her mistaking him for the butler again.

  Annette looked at him in confusion. She was unaccustomed to people who dared not jump at her every command. She turned to her husband for support—or perhaps to have him hang her coat for her—but he kept his eyes trained on Brash. When Brash saw a nerve twitch in the older man’s cheek, he realized Charles was trying hard not to smile at the handling of his wife.

  Maybe the old guy wasn’t so bad, after all, Brash decided. Just hen-pecked by an overbearing woman.

  “Go ahead, Annette, it will be fine,” Charles said, eyes straight ahead.

  She stalked forward with a huff. With her back to him, Charles’ smile broke through. Brash offered a conspiratorial wink, surprised when the older man nodded his approval.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Brash said, offering his arm to Annette once her mink and her purse were safely tucked away. “Maddy and Genny have been cooking all morning. There’s plenty, so come on into the kitchen and join us.”

  “The kitchen?” Annette sounded appalled. In their household, only the servants ate in the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll have dinner tonight in the formal dining room, but the kitchen is so much cozier. Perfect for family meals, don’t you think?” He kept up the firm but friendly discourse, subtly putting Annette into her place. She was on Maddy’s turf now, and she would treat it, and her, with respect. Charles tagged behind, openly smiling.

  Brash pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, hoping for the best. “Set two more plates for breakfast, Maddy. You have more guests.”

  Conversation around the table stopped. A fork clattered onto a plate. Madison stared at her former in-laws with dismay. Her first thought was to wonder who had invited them. Her second thought was as to why Annette’s hand was tucked into the crook of Brash’s arm. Charles stood behind them, grinning like a Cheshire cat full of cream.

  “Grandmother Annette! Grandfather!” Bethani broke the silence with her delighted cry. She jumped up from the table and came forward, but Brash noticed she stopped short of hugging them. “I didn’t think you’d really come! Merry Christmas!”

  He quickly stepped aside. “Here, Beth, I’ll get out of your way so you can hug your grandparents.”

  Brash smiled serenely at Annette as he slipped past her. He made a quick path to Maddy, where he stood close behind her and whispered, “I didn’t know whether to slam the door in their faces or let them in, but it is Christmas. Good will to men and warty old mother-in-laws, and all that.” He referred to a conversation they had once had about her, when Madison had compared Annette to a witch. After meeting her in person, he saw the resemblance.

  “There goes my perfect Christmas,” she whispered back.

  “Not a chance. We won’t let them spoil this. Agreed?”

  With a quick prayer for strength, Maddy gave a tight nod. “Agreed.”

  They made room for the newcomers and passed food their way. Annette turned her nose up at most of the offerings, but one taste of Genny’s baked French toast and she fell under its spell. She melted like the butter atop the warm, gooey mess.

  “I simply must have this recipe to give to Cook,” she said, all but licking her plate clean.

  “I’d be happy to show you how to make it, Annette,” Genny offered.

  “Annette doesn’t cook,” Charles corrected immediately. “We have help for that.”

  “Ooh, I see a cooking class in this afternoon’s future!” Genny grinned, rubbing her hands together. She had noticed how Brash handled the overbearing woman, and it seemed to work. Treat her like an ordinary human being rather than a queen to be patronized, and she almost behaved as one. “Bethani and Megan can help. This will be fun!”

  After breakfast, everyone pitched in to make quick work of the dishes. To her amazement, Madison saw Annette actually carry her own coffee cup and plate to the sink. Wonders, she thought with a daze, would never cease.

  With the kitchen clean and the dishwashers running, they returned to the media room. Brash went out to collect the gifts from the Reynolds’ classic Rolls Royce, the one Blake said they only drove on special occasions. He counted exactly four presents, two apiece for each of the twins. Nothing for Maddy.

  Once everyone assembled in the media room, the men passed out presents. As the piles of presents grew, so did the noise level in the room. Christmas music played on the sound system, often drowned out by laughter and squeals of delight. Brash took a seat by Madison, where the two preferred to watch the pleasure on everyone else’s faces, rather than open their own presents.

  “Go ahead, Brash,” she smiled, nudging his shoulder. “Open your gifts.”

  “I already did, the day I re-met you inside Ronny Gleason’s chicken house,” he said softly.

  “I beg your pardon, but we were outside the house, where I was puking my guts up after finding him dead.”

  “So we were.”

  “Seriously, open something, or we’ll be here all day.”

  “You, too.”

  They selected one present each, and tore away the colorful paper.

  Few others in the room used such restraint.

  “Mom, thank you, thank you, thank you! Just what I wanted!” Blake cried in excitement when he opened his rod and reel. “Mr. de, Cutter, can we go fishing this afternoon?”

  “Not this afternoon, buddy,” Brash laughed. “But maybe tomorrow.”

  “What a cute sweater, Miss Maddy! I love it!” Megan beamed, coming forward to hug the giver.

  “I thought it would go great with your coloring.” Maddy touched the girl’s long, auburn locks, her hand lingering with affection.

  Across the room, she saw Annette watching her. Instead of the normal criticism, her mother-in-law’s eyes held a thoughtful gaze. The normally vocal woman had said little since joining them in their noisy, happy ritual of opening gifts en mass. At Ivy Hall, the pompous name Annette had given their cold and stately home, Christmas get-togethers had never been like this, not even when the twins were younger. There, they gathered around the professionally decorated tree and opened presents one by one, politely waiting on the person to their left to finish unwrapping a gift before starting on their own. Discarded paper was neatly folded and tucked away, not torn and wadded and thrown to the middle of the room for later disposal. Some were even wrapped like they were on television, with lift-off lids, complete with stationary bows and ribbons. And there were never more than two gifts apiece. Three, at absolute tops, and only if your name wasn’t Madison. One year, there hadn’t been a single gift with her name upon it, a fact that Annette swore was the maid’s fault. Her promise to bring the present by later never quite materialized. Just one of the many snubs Madison had endured during her twenty-year marriage to their son.

  “Mom, seriously?” Bethani squealed. “It’s just what I wanted!” She pulled the expensive hair straightener from the box, brandishing the sparkly pink wand for everyone to see. “I can’t wait to use this!”

  Round and round it went, as everyone opened their gifts at once. When the twins opened their first gifts from their Dallas grandpa
rents, they had to do so in tandem. They each lifted out a big, puffy snowsuit, one in pink, one in blue.

  “Thanks,” Blake said, wondering why he needed such a suit in Texas. “It looks really warm and poufy.”

  “It should be just the right weight for Colorado,” Charles said, seeing his confusion. “We’d like to take you to Vail for snow skiing.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s awesome!” the teen replied with new enthusiasm. He shook the suit out for closer inspection.

  “Bethani? Do you like your suit?” Annette answered, noticing her lack-luster response to the invitation.

  The teen darted a glance at her best friend. She knew how badly Megan wanted to go snow skiing. It was something she had never done before, but had it at the top of her bucket list. Bethani felt guilty about going without her friend, especially when she herself really didn’t care for the sport all that much.

  “Oh, sure. I love the color. Good call.” She darted another look at Megan, who was trying hard to hide her jealousy.

  The unbelievable happened when Annette took one look at Megan’s crestfallen face, glanced at her granddaughter’s look of guilt and sadness, and made a momentous offer. “Bethani, would you like to invite your friend to come along? I’m sure I can find her a suit like yours in purple.”

  Bethani’s blue eyes sparkled. “Really, Grandmother Annette? Are you serious?”

  “Why yes, if her father agrees.”

  “Can I, Daddy? Please, oh please?” Megan got on her knees and made begging noises, which Bethani soon echoed.

  “I suppose so, if your mother says yes.”

  “Yes!” The girls jumped up and hugged first Brash for agreeing, then Annette and Charles for the gift. Annette accepted the hugs, looking slightly dazed by so much show of affection. When they finally settled back into their places on the floor, she patted her perfectly styled hair back into place, but a faint smile lingered on her lips.

  The second gift from their grandparents brought even more hugs, even from Blake. The latest iPhone winked up at them from the tissue.