by Barbara Lohr
“Santa must have come and helped our little tree,” Nathan said with the outrageous belief of a five year-old. “There are more needles on it.”
“Or maybe a Christmas angel.” There could only be one explanation. She pulled her legs up under her.
Thank you, my love.
Some things are beyond human logic. Sarah let her suspicions rest with that explanation. Blessed by love, the tree carried a message that transcended time and space. The message had reached her and Sarah cradled it in her heart.
Their heat was set to click on at six in the morning, and the cold floor told her it wasn’t that time yet. Too early to get up. Shaking out the green afghan, she beckoned to Nathan and Justin. “Come here, boys. Let’s cuddle.”
“But I want to look at the tree,” Justin said, his fingers skimming over the boughs.
“And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
The boys piled onto the sofa and together they shared their warmth. Savoring the tree, now resplendent in its glory, Sarah knew in spirit there were four of them.
~.~
Ryan was whistling “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” when he came down the steps early the next morning. That was Lila’s holiday favorite and he caught her humming it all the time. After the evening with Sarah and the kids, he felt totally content. Burned chili and all, decorating the tree took him back to his childhood and the experiences shared with his brother. Somehow Jamie always made things right. That’s how the evening had felt...right.
A cool blue moon shone through the high windows of the garage, glancing off the Harleys and cars in the darkened shop. Branson Motors had been his world for a long time. But maybe that was changing. He’d had a call on his phone from Stuart. They were going to meet about the new business plan for The Full Cup.
The light was on in the office.
“Who’s making all that noise?” Stanley called out.
Smiling to himself, Ryan stepped around the tools and vehicles and made his way back.
“Sounds like you’re the one yelling, old man.” Ryan leaned against the doorframe. “Is that your breakfast?”
“Want some instant oatmeal?” Stanley kept a hot plate back here. He held up a mug that said Cranky Old Geezer.
“I’ll take the coffee but hold off on the oatmeal.” Stepping over, he poured himself a cup of steaming coffee and sat down. He’d gotten up earlier today. As happy as he was, he couldn’t sleep.
Peering at him over the lip of his mug, Stanley took a sip. “So what’s with the whistling?”
“Just feeling pretty good right now.” Slouching in the hardback chair, he smiled.
Stanley’s eyes twinkled. “So the widow woman’s working out, is she?”
Ryan wasn’t about to share any details. “Let’s just say, we’re happy where we are right now.”
“Yeah, well something put that smile on your face. You look happier than a red bulb on a Christmas tree.”
“By the way, thanks for letting us use your woods. You’ve got some beautiful acreage there.”
“Did you get a tree? I haven’t been out there much since the snow started.”
The tree. Ryan didn’t know what to say. “We saw a lot of awesome trees. But Nathan and Justin chose the most pathetic tree you’ve ever seen.”
Stanley sat up like he’d been hit with a cattle prod. “In my woods?”
“Sorry, but yes. Relax. That’s why they liked it. The boys said it was their Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Fits real nice in the corner of Sarah’s living room. I was kind of relieved. Some of your trees are so big, I could never have wrangled one into Sarah’s small bungalow.”
“Glad it worked out. So everything’s fine?” Stanley paused, obviously curious.
“Guess so.” Ryan tossed back the last mouthful of coffee and stood up. “See you later. I have to go make gingerbread men.”
“Do tell. You’re getting all proper on us now.” Raising a pinkie, Stanley took a small sip of his coffee.”
As Ryan was striding through the garage, Stanley called out, “I could use some of those gingerbread cookies with my coffee!”
Ryan chuckled until he hit the frigid air outside. Man, it was cold. His ears stung as he pulled himself up into the cab. Sitting there waiting for the truck to warm up, he could not stop thinking about Sarah. But she hadn’t been the only one on his mind all night as he tossed and turned in bed. No, Jamie had been there too, running through his head with his straight-shooting, confident ways.
The one message Ryan heard was “Go for it”––his brother’s favorite phrase. In his dreams, Jamie was smiling when he said it.
Ryan threw the truck into drive. Okay, I will, big brother. I sure will.
~.~
By the time Sarah got to The Full Cup, Ryan had filled the racks with breads, brownies, lemon bars and even some gingerbread men. “What is this?” She shrugged off her coat. “What time did you get here?”
“Early,” he said with the cutest duck of his head. Who knew a guy could look masculine with a frosting bag in his hand.
“Wow, I’m impressed.” Grinning, she tied on an apron. “You almost look as if you know what you’re doing.”
Sliding a tray of gingerbread men onto the counter, he gave her a dark look. “Oh, I do. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
She grabbed a second bag and another load of cookies. “Let’s time ourselves. Winner gets her wish.”
Coming closer, Ryan snagged her by the waist. His kiss was coffee-delicious. “Maybe the winner will get his wish.”
So he wanted a challenge? “Game on.” It wasn’t easy to pull herself from his arms, but she sprinted to the other side of the counter and positioned her tray, one eye on the clock.
“Go!” They both ducked their heads.
Sarah worked faster than she ever had before. She tried not to let her excitement put too much pressure on the piping bag. Halfway through her tray, she looked up. Hunched over, Ryan nipped his lower lip as he worked. That one glance nearly broke her rhythm.
When she took the tray from the cooling rack, she hadn’t really paid much attention to the cookies on it. Wielding the bag of frosting with ease, she sped through the gingerbread men, Santa Claus and Christmas tree cookies. But the entwined R and S caught her by surprise. Sarah’s throat closed and her eyes blurred.
She couldn’t rush through this. Hands shaking a bit, she took her time, piping a pretty scroll along the lettering.
Ryan startled her when he shouted out, “Done!”
“Oh, you are just so pleased with yourself,” she muttered, still working on her last cookie.
Peering over her shoulder, he murmured, “So, what do you think of my work?”
“That you can be pretty devious.” Zipping around, she shot a string of frosting that landed right below his left eye. She got him pretty good.
Hooking her with one hand, he laid down his bag and laced his hands behind her back. “I think you owe me.”
Reaching up, she swept the frosting from his cheek. “Aw, you’re so sweet, Ryan.”
“Never thought I’d ever hear that. Are you mocking me?” His eyes turned deliciously dangerous.
“No, never.” Giggling, she couldn’t offer any resistance as he pushed her toward the door to the shop. “What are you doing? It’s almost time to open.”
“Later. Right now I have other ideas.”
She looked up. The mistletoe. “Perfect.”
The conversation was cut off by a Christmas kiss she’d remember forever. Tunneling her fingers through Ryan’s thick hair, she felt the rasp of his beard and something else. Her cheek felt sticky. “You’re getting frosting all over me.”
“Turn around is fair play.” What a stinker. Ryan turned his cheek just a bit until both their faces were a gooey mess.
“Stop. Stop.” But her voice was choked by giggles.
“What is going on?”
Sarah and Ryan turned. Frosting obscuring one eye, she had trouble seei
ng her mother, standing there with hands on her hips. But Mom was laughing.
After Ryan left for Branson Motors, Sarah grabbed her blue binder, just to make sure they were covering the bases. She flipped open the cover and stared. The recipes were divided by plastic tabs, each section alphabetized. When she opened to Cookies, her recipes were arranged neatly. Each scrawled note, card or piece of torn newspaper safely encased in a plastic slip sheet. This had to be Ryan’s work and her heart turned over.
Amazed, she lugged the binder out to her mother. front.
“Will you look at this?” Sarah set the binder down and opened it.
“Oh, my.” Her mother whisked through the pages. “Ryan did this?”
“I guess so. Do you believe it?”
Turning, her mother gave her a slow smile. “I’d say this man’s a keeper.”
Epilogue
Six months later
A saw whined and hammers pounded from the workshop Ryan had built in the yard. The sweet smell of sawdust and early summer hung in the air. Would the man ever stop working? Sarah was thrilled that Ryan was enlarging the deck. But not today. “Mom and Stuart will be here soon!” she called out.
The saw stopped. Ryan appeared in the doorway of the shed. No man wore a T-shirt and jeans like her husband, safety glasses shoved back on his head. “What’s that, babe?”
The grass tickled her bare feet as she strolled toward him. Sarah was still getting used to Ryan working in what used to be her backyard.
My husband. Our backyard.
She liked it.
Looping an arm around his neck, she cuddled closer. “Time to clean up,” she whispered. “Mom and Stuart are coming over, remember?”
After a leisurely Sunday afternoon kiss, Ryan pulled away. “Got it. Gee, you smell good.” His chest expanded when he inhaled.
“I’m all shampooed and showered.” She tapped that broad chest with a finger. “Your turn.”
The rat-tat-tat of hammers had stopped inside the shed. Nathan and Justin came to the door. “They’re at it again.” Nathan rolled his eyes. “Disgusting.”
Smiling, Justin followed his brother outside. “I know. Kissing all the time.”
“Are we disgusting?” Sarah murmured.
Ryan smiled down. “Never.”
“Last one to the swing is a rotten egg!” Nathan dropped a pint-size hammer and ran. Justin did the same.
Ryan held up a hand and the boys lurched to a stop. “Hey, first put those hammers back where you got them, okay?”
“Yessir.” Scooping up the hammer, Nathan dashed back into the shed, his brother right behind him. Then it was off to the new swing set Ryan had put up this spring.
Since their wedding on Valentine’s Day, Ryan had fixed every loose hinge, stubborn doorknob and leaky window in her house. Now working at The Full Cup, he strategized with Stuart about the new espresso line. The cold winter helped make the flavored coffees an instant success. How relieved Sarah had felt, sending off that final overdue tax installment.
But most important, he’d been spending a lot of time with the boys in the evenings and weekends. Stanley and Ryder Branson had understood when Ryan told them that family came first. He wouldn’t be able to put in any hours at Branson Motors. But he sometimes stopped at the garage for coffee, and Sarah had invited Phoebe and Ryder over for supper, along with Stanley. Ryder’s dad was a real hoot.
While Ryan was showering, Mom and Stuart pulled into the driveway. Hollering at the top of their lungs, Nathan and Justin streaked toward the car. You’d think the two newly-weds had been gone all month, instead of two weeks. How cute they were together as they got out of the car, starry-eyed after their honeymoon in Tuscany.
“I think you two picked up a tan over there.” Sarah linked arms with her mother, walking with them into the back yard. “You both look great.”
“Don’t know about the tan but I did pick up ten pounds,” Stuart laughed. “How’s business?”
“Good, but I’m glad you’re back in town.”
They settled at the picnic table. After Sarah brought out lemonade, her mother told her all about Italy.
Good news. Now everything seemed to be good news.
But she was waiting for Ryan before sharing theirs.
Looking around the yard, Sarah thought back to the time when she’d wondered how she could handle all this. How could she raise the boys and run The Full Cup alone? Now she had the full support of a growing family. The library had hired a new director and Stuart had started working part time at the coffee shop. He fit right in and was especially helpful with the sleek espresso machine he’d given Mom for Christmas.
The screen door whapped shut. “Welcome back,” Ryan called out. His hair wet from the shower, he smelled like soap when he slid in next to her. “Did you give them the news?”
Her mother perked up. “What news?”
Sarah had been hugging their secret to her heart. “We’re having a baby.”
Her mother lit up like that dear little tree they’d had last Christmas. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m so happy.” She sniffled.
Handing Mom his handkerchief, Stuart looked stunned. “Will that make me a grandfather?”
“You already are,” Nathan told him.
“Yeah, you’re our grandpa,” Justin added, his tone suggesting Stuart should have known this.
“Now, don’t you go lifting any of those heavy trays at work,” her mother warned her.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.” While they talked about the due date, Sarah felt Ryan’s eyes on her. She squeezed his hand, so grateful she felt for everything that had come their way since Christmas.
“Any idea about, you know, boy or girl?” Her mother waited.
“Ye-es,” Sarah said slowly. “We had the ultrasound last week.”
The air quivered with anticipation. “It’s a girl.” Cripes, tears stung her eyes. Lately, she was so darn emotional.
“A little girl,” Mom said with wonder.
“Yeah.” Nathan rested his chin on one hand “Mom says we have to be really good to her. Big brothers and all that.”
That tadpole feeling shimmered deep in Sarah’s tummy, as if this little girl were introducing herself. “Sometimes I can’t believe it.”
“Any idea about names?” Mom asked.
“All decided.” Sarah and Ryan smiled at each other with quiet certainty. “We’re going to call her Jamie.”
***
If you enjoyed Christmas Dreams and Santa Schemes, please leave a review so that others might discover it.
If you are new to Gull Harbor and its wonderful circle of close friends, enjoy this excerpt from Coming Home to You, the first book in the Man from Yesterday series. Kate comes home to Gull Harbor to help her mom and recover from a divorce. Who does she run into but Cole Campbell, the guy she worshipped in high school. He irritates her no end with all his plans to update Gull Harbor. But his little girl quickly wins Kate over.
Excerpt from Chapter 1 of Coming Back to You.
The thumping started when Kate Kennedy reached Greta’s Gifts on Red Arrow Highway. Cheese curls churned in her stomach as she tapped the brakes. Almost home but something was wrong with the kayak strapped to her roof. Gravel crunching beneath the tires, she pulled into Greta’s and parked. The sun bounced off the hood of her SUV, but a cool May breeze bathed her face when she cracked open the door.
Welcome to Michigan. Her eyes felt grainy from fourteen hours on the road, but she was home.
Stretching, Kate breathed in the lake, damp and beachy. The tightness in her shoulders eased. Pine trees caught a high spring gust and the familiar rustle made her smile. Her stomach gurgled. Not much to eat the whole ride from Boston except peanut butter and jelly, plus bags of cheese curls washed down with coffee.
Looking up, she exhaled. At least she hadn’t lost Gator, her green kayak. A red security tie flapped in the breeze. Must have lost the other strap along the way. Kate scrubbed her face with hands shaking from all the
caffeine. A semi roared past, kicking up dust. She tugged up the zipper on her hoodie.
“Doggone it, Gator.”
The kayak slid a bit farther. Too bad she’d left her small kitchen stepladder in the Boston condo, along with a lot of other stuff. When she yanked the remaining red band, it fell away in her hand. One frustrated shove and Gator retaliated, smacking her square in the chest before clattering to the ground. The pain bent Kate over like a paper clip. She almost didn’t hear the door slam behind her.
Blinking furiously, she pulled herself up, grateful for the sunglasses. No way would anyone see Kate Kennedy cry. A man ambled toward her in work boots, worn jeans, and shoulders that tested the seams of a beat-up jean jacket. That walk looked familiar and her heart kicked up a beat. He wore aviator sunglasses, so no telling for sure. A black and white dog hung out of the pickup, Great Dane ears pricking forward. Big muzzle, big dog.
“Need some help?”
Yep, it was him. Kate’s legs weakened. “No, I’m fine.”
His eyes shifted to the kayak on the ground. “Doesn’t look fine to me.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “I’m fine. And so is Gator.” Her chest throbbed.
Blue eyes swept like a July wave over the tops of his sunglasses. “Gator?”
She swallowed. “My kayak. Seemed appropriate.”
“I see.”
But Cole Campbell had never understood why Kate wanted all her belongings named and in their proper place. Shoot. They’d been on the high school debate team together, and he didn’t recognize her? Maybe it was her recent drugstore dye job. She’d had brown hair in high school. Now she ran a hand over blonde hair, crisp from two days of neglect.
He swayed back on his heels, a Good Samaritan with second thoughts. The two empty seats of the kayak stared up at them. “Lucky you didn’t lose it on the road. Could have smashed into another driver. You need to batten it down.”
“Thought I did. It was dark when I loaded it.”