by Teri Wilson
He paused to clear his throat as hot tears spilled down Felicity’s cheeks.
“If she’ll have me, that is.”
And then he pushed through the kitchen door, where he stood on the threshold with Nick strapped to his chest in a baby sling and the other baby monitor gripped firmly in his hand. The smile he gave her wasn’t like any of the ones she’d seen on his handsome face before. It wasn’t his trademark flirty grin or the sheepish one he always had when she poked fun at his socks. It wasn’t the least bit guarded or forced. This smile was a rare and precious gift—open, honest and brimming with promise. Promises of hope. And a future too wonderful to fathom, like Christmas every day.
Duchess hopped off Felicity’s lap and ran to paw at Wade’s shins. Felicity followed. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to throw her arms around him and Nick and hold on for the rest of her life. But there were things she needed to say first—important things. Or as Jack might say, super urgent.
“I know you’re ready, and I know you’ve thought things through. I never doubted you for a second.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “It’s me. I’m the one I didn’t believe in.”
“What about now?” he said, gaze lowering to her lips.
Nick’s tiny eyelashes fluttered open, and when he caught sight of Felicity, he kicked his tiny feet and let out a happy squeal.
And all the hope that Felicity had been so afraid to feel came flooding back to her heart tenfold. She didn’t even try to push it away. No more running, she told herself. No matter what the future held, she was here to stay. Lovestruck was her home, and so was the man standing in front of her.
“Now I believe,” she said. “I believe in Christmas, I believe in family and I believe in us.”
Wade swept her into his arms with Nick tucked snugly between them and Duchess prancing at their feet, and as he brushed away each and every one of her tears, Felicity looked up at him and smiled.
“I love you, Smokey, and I’m yours. Not just until Christmas, but always and forever.”
Epilogue
Dear Nick,
Today’s the day your daddy and I have been waiting for since the moment we first saw you. It’s the day you’ll officially become ours in a Lovestruck courtroom surrounded by family and friends.
There are so many people who love you and want to welcome you into their hearts as the judge signs the papers making you an Ericson—Jack and Madison, Emma and Ella, Aunt Alice and Cap from your daddy’s firehouse, of course. Your grandparents even made the trip from Manhattan, and so did your cousin, Lori. She’s brought her sweet one-year-old daughter, Ariel, and we both hope you’ll grow up to be great friends someday.
Years from now, when we tell you the story of how you came into our lives during one snowy Christmas in Vermont, we’ll probably say we were on the way to play Joseph and Mary in a living nativity scene at the Christmas festival. We might say that unlike Mary and Joseph, we had no idea that a baby was about to change everything we thought we knew about life and love. But it did, and that baby was you.
It’s been six months since that fateful night outside the firehouse—six months of diapers and late-night feedings, six months of trying to keep Duchess the dog from stealing all your baby toys, six months of falling more in love with you each and every day. So much has changed during that time, and there’s so much I can’t wait to tell you, like how the ladies from Alice’s knitting club love to dote on you at the nursery they’ve taken over when I’m teaching at the yoga studio every morning. And how your daddy proposed to me on Christmas Eve during the living nativity scene by sneaking an engagement ring into the box the wise men carried. And also how I tried to knit him a pair of striped socks for Christmas and they turned into a complete disaster, but he wears them all the time, anyway. Likewise, I always wear the locket with your picture in it that he gave me on Christmas morning. The one I used to wear is tucked away in a jewelry box, along with all the precious memories it holds. Because this past Christmas marked a new beginning. Not just for you, but for all three of us...together.
Right now you’re too young to understand any of those things, but I wanted to write them down so that when the time is right, we will give you this letter and you’ll know how much these past six months have meant to us, your parents.
When I first came to Vermont, I never expected to be a mother. It still seems strange to call myself that, because being your mom seems too good to be true. It is, though. You’re ours now, and we’re yours. Please know we’ll always be here for you, and we’ll answer any questions you might have someday about your birth mother, who loved you very much but wanted you to have a better life than she was prepared to give you. Your favorite baby blanket was a gift from her, and the Christmas book that always makes you smile came from her, too. I know it might be hard to understand why she made the choices she did, but never doubt that she loved you with all her heart.
Yes, you are loved, little Nick. You are loved and you are wanted, more than you can possibly know.
All my love,
Mommy
* * * * *
Don’t miss the next book in the Lovestruck, Vermont series, coming April 2021!
And try these other great holiday romances:
A Soldier Under Her Tree
By Kathy Douglass
His Last-Chance Christmas Family
By Michelle Major
A Temporary Christmas Arrangement
By Christine Rimmer
Available now wherever Mills & Boon books and ebooks are sold!
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Soldier Under Her Tree by Kathy Douglass.
A Soldier Under Her Tree
by Kathy Douglass
Chapter One
Hannah Carpenter muttered to herself as she dragged the ladder toward the string of unlit Christmas lights, hoping against hope that she’d find the burned-out one on the first try. Not that she expected it to be easy. There were at least forty lights that were no longer blinking on this display near the jewelry rack. She didn’t have time to waste on this nonsense. If she had her druthers, she’d pull down all of the decorations, shove them into a box and forget that Christmas even existed.
But she couldn’t. Christmas season had a big impact on her boutique’s annual bottom line. The sales from the day after Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve were nearly double those from January through March. Since she had bills to pay and employees depending on her for their livelihood, she’d leave the lights on and keep blasting the Christmas music, setting the mood for those customers who enjoyed the season. She might not possess the holiday spirit, but she knew how to keep up appearances.
She yanked out a bulb. No change, so she put it back and tried the one beside it.
She hadn’t always been a scrooge. Christmastime used to be her favorite season. She’d even planned her wedding for December 22. But that was before she’d caught her ex-fiancé in bed with her sister a week before the big day. Gerald’s initial shock and lame apologies had quickly morphed into indignation that she’d shown up at his place unannounced. To Hannah’s disbelief, Dinah had only smirked and tucked the blankets around her body more securely as if Hannah had been the interloper. Yeah, that experience three years ago had killed her love of Christmas and all of its associated gaiety.
Even now, Hannah could picture her sister’s grin, and her stomach began to churn. Hannah forced the unhappy memory away as she yanked out another light. In thirty-three years she hadn’t been able to figure out what motivated her sister to act the way she did. She doubted today would be the day it all became clear. And did it really matter? Her sister was no longer a part of her life.
After that heartbreak, Hannah had quit her job where she’d worked with Gerald, and moved from Virginia to Sweet Briar, North Carolina. Shortly thereafter, she’d opened her boutique, Designs by Hannah. It had taken a lot of work
and even more good luck, but her boutique was successful. More important, she’d made a happy life for herself.
After twenty-five tries, Hannah found the defective bulb, replaced it with the spare, descended the ladder and returned it to the storeroom. When she went back to the front of the shop, she looked around, checking to be sure that everything was in order. Every blouse, scarf, skirt and dress was hanging perfectly from its respective rack. There wasn’t a speck of dust on her gleaming oak floors, and the gold-trimmed mirrors were spotless. She’d changed the window display from the typical mannequins dressed in one of her outfits to three elves placing neatly folded blouses wrapped in ribbon under a decorated tree. Every day kids pressed their fingers and noses on the window while they stared at the scene, making it necessary for her to clean the glass every morning.
Satisfied, she checked her watch and then switched on her curated playlist of Christmas music. If she was going to be forced to listen to holiday songs for weeks on end, it would be limited to those she could tolerate. She couldn’t abide novelty songs, which was why she didn’t stream one of the internet stations playing only Christmas music where she couldn’t control what she heard.
She unlocked the door, flipped the closed sign to Open and waited for the first customers of the day. Sweet Briar was a tourist town that overflowed with visitors in the summer months. Fortunately the mayor had great vision and had created reasons for people to visit year-round. As a result, Hannah did steady business and didn’t see much drop-off during the winter months. She’d been surprised by the volume of sales her first Christmas and hadn’t been prepared for the demand. But she’d been a fast learner. Now she stocked plenty of her exclusive clothing and jewelry for the season.
The bell over her door tinkled, signaling the arrival of a shopper.
“Come on in,” she called. “Look around at your leisure.”
“Oh my, look at this place. It’s simply marvelous.”
Hannah froze and then turned around at the sound of her mother’s voice. What was she doing here? And why was she praising Hannah? Eleanor had rarely—if ever—had a complimentary word for her. Hannah and her mother had never been close. They were too different for that. Eleanor Jones-Carpenter-Halloran-Spikes had always favored Dinah, who resembled her not only in physical appearance but also in values. They were both petite, model-thin, selfish social climbers.
“What are you doing here?” Hannah noticed that her mother hadn’t come alone. Dinah and Gerald were standing behind her. Dinah looked smug as usual, although Gerald had the good grace to look uncomfortable.
“I’ve come to see your boutique in person.” Eleanor walked around the shop, admiring Hannah’s designs as if the last words she’d said to Hannah—get over it—about Dinah and Gerald’s betrayal hadn’t happened. “It’s beautiful. The pictures in the magazine layout last month didn’t do it justice.”
Hannah rubbed her head. Perhaps she’d fallen when she’d been replacing the bulb and had given herself a concussion. Or maybe she’d knocked herself out and she was lying unconscious on the floor by the jewelry display and this was an unfortunate nightmare. She glanced over there. Nope. Nothing to see there.
“Why?” If there was one thing Hannah had learned, it was that her mother had a reason for everything she did. Nothing was ever done randomly or by chance.
“Why what?”
“Why did you come all the way to Sweet Briar to see the store now?” She’d owned the boutique for nearly three years and her mother had never once been inside.
“Because you’re my daughter.”
“And?”
“And,” Eleanor added with annoyance, “it’s time for you and Dinah to put all the bad blood behind you and start acting like sisters.”
Hannah didn’t say a word. The idea was so ridiculous it was comical. Besides, Hannah knew her mother had an ulterior motive. She’d never cared whether Dinah and Hannah got along. All that mattered was putting on a good front. So she waited for her mother to get to the real reason they’d left Virginia in the middle of the Christmas social season when there were elbows to rub and connections to make.
“And I think the perfect gesture and symbol of this new beginning would be for you to design your sister’s wedding gown.”
And there it was. The real reason they’d come to Sweet Briar. Her mother and sister might enjoy playing games, but Hannah didn’t have the appetite for it. She preferred honesty and straight shooting.
“No.”
“What do you mean no?” Eleanor’s perfectly shaped brows nearly disappeared into her hairline. Surely she hadn’t expected a different answer.
“I mean I’m not going to design Dinah’s wedding dress. You’ve wasted your time coming here.” Hannah turned and spoke directly to her sister. “I don’t design wedding dresses, but if I did, I still wouldn’t design one for you.”
“That’s not true. I saw the wedding dress that you designed for Arden Wexford. It was in all the magazines and on every celebrity TV show. That’s all people talked about for months.”
Dinah wanted her picture to be in magazines and her face on television. It must have annoyed her to no end to see Hannah featured as an up-and-coming designer in a popular fashion magazine. Dinah and Eleanor hadn’t cared a whit about Hannah. But now they wanted to use their family tie, no matter how strained, in their never-ending quest for fame and fortune. Eleanor had used marriage as a ladder to climb to the top—or as close to it as she could get. Now that she was getting up there—in age as well in the number of ex-husbands—she’d turned her attention to Dinah as a means to that end.
“You did design that dress,” her mother pointed out.
“I also saw the gowns you made for that country singer and that movie star to wear on the red carpet,” Dinah said as if she could convince Hannah. “I’m your sister, so it’s only fair that if you design a dress for complete strangers, you should design one for me.”
Dinah seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she’d hurt and betrayed Hannah. Even for someone as self-centered as she was, this was unbelievable.
Eleanor nodded in agreement. No surprise there. Eleanor had always favored her older daughter.
Hannah folded her arms over her chest. “First, Arden isn’t a stranger. She’s a friend.” Something Dinah and Eleanor no doubt already knew and hoped to use to their advantage. Although Hannah didn’t ordinarily design wedding dresses, she’d been pleased to create Arden’s.
A few years ago, Arden’s car had broken down in Sweet Briar. She’d needed a break from the pressures of her prominent family, and had stayed over and worked as a waitress in her current husband’s restaurant. Arden and Hannah had become friends and she’d offered to design Arden’s dress. Hannah hadn’t done it for fame or money, but out of friendship. It was only because Arden was a member of the wealthy Wexford family that the dress had been newsworthy. Later Arden had introduced Hannah to a couple of celebrities who’d wanted Hannah to design dresses for them. “Second, although we share the same genes, you and I aren’t sisters in the true sense of the word. Sisters don’t screw each other’s fiancé.”
Hannah knew she was being crass, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t about to try to put a sweet spin on her sister’s betrayal. Not when saying the words brought back the pain of that betrayal.
“Why do you have to be like that? I tried to resist. We both did, for your sake. That’s why we didn’t get married right away. We were considering your feelings. But Gerald and I are in love and want to be together.”
Hannah managed not to throw up the yogurt she’d grabbed for breakfast. Respect for her feelings wasn’t the reason Dinah and Gerald hadn’t gotten married three years ago. They hadn’t tied the knot because Dinah hadn’t been divorced yet. Her ex-husband hadn’t been in the mood to give her half of what he’d earned, so the proceedings had dragged on and on. Of course, had Dinah been as m
uch in love with Gerald as she’d claimed, she would have just walked away from her then eight-month marriage and a huge settlement. But Dinah had absorbed their mother’s teaching quite well. Never leave a dollar behind.
“I’m not stopping you. Get married. Have the biggest wedding the state of Virginia has seen. Heck, all of America has seen. But leave me out of it.”
Gerald stepped forward then. Hannah had hoped to never see the weasel ever again. Yet here he was, standing right in front of her. He was average height with hair that was beginning to thin and cold, calculating eyes. Hannah wondered what she’d ever seen in him. When they’d worked together at his father’s architectural firm, she’d been impressed by what she’d interpreted as his drive and desire to make a name for himself. Now she realized that had just been a mirage.
“Hannah, we weren’t right for each other.” Was he trying to sound sympathetic? If so, he was failing miserably. But then, true feelings weren’t included in his limited repertoire. “I know you feel the same way.”
“You got that right.”
“I know you’re hurt and disappointed,” he said as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. Apparently he’d prepared this speech and intended to recite every word of it. “But don’t hold it against Dinah.”
“You’re unbelievable. Please, all of you, just leave.”
“Not until you agree to make my dress,” Dinah said. Clearly trying to make nice was putting a strain on her and she was reverting to type.
Hannah had a business to run. A customer could come in at any moment. She needed to put an end to this now.
“You know, I can always call the chief of police. He’s a friend, too.”