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On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride
Debbie Macomber


THE CHRISTMAS BASKETMore than ten years ago, high-school sweethearts Noelle McDowell and Thomas Sutton planned to elope—but then he jilted her. This Christmas, Noelle is home to celebrate the holidays, and she and Thom discover they are still in love. Now only the decades-old rivalry between their mothers stands in the way of a second chance together.THE SNOW BRIDEIt's a month before Christmas and Jenna Campbell is flying to Alaska to marry a man she met on the Internet—until her seatmate takes it upon himself to change her plans. Which is how Jenna ends up stranded in tiny Snowbound, Alaska, alone with Reid Jamison (plus a bunch of eccentric old men and a few grizzly bears). And then there's a blizzard… Maybe she'll be a Christmas bride after all!









On a Snowy Night

The Christmas Basket

The Snow Bride



Debbie Macomber













www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#u2db0a64f-702c-58b9-b1f7-abe24ac879c7)

Title Page (#u4bdac85e-7492-57d8-8b8b-c934c6e196a8)

The Christmas Basket

Dedication (#uf76e1e8a-d1b0-5283-af7a-2a4f9cbb28bb)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

The Snow Bride

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)



The Christmas Basket (#ud848ac89-8f8c-5364-acc4-ca5f4e97b7b7)


To

Mr and Mrs Dale Macomber

(my son and Laurie)

Merry Christmas

Your first as husband and wife




NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 1

I did it. I broke down and actually booked the flight to Rose. I have a ticket for December 18—Dallas to San Francisco to Portland and then the commuter flight to Rose.

All my excuses are used up. I always figured there was no going back, and yet that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m going home when I swore I never would. Not after what happened…Not after Thom Sutton betrayed me. I know, I know, I’ve always been dramatic. I can’t help that—it’s part of my nature.

When I was a teenager I made this vow never to return. I spoke it in the heat of passion, and no one believed me. For that matter, I didn’t believe me, not really. But it proved to be so easy to stay away…. I hardly had to invent excuses. While I was in college I had an opportunity to travel to Europe two years in a row. Then in my junior year I had a summer job and was a bridesmaid in a Christmas wedding. And when my senior year rolled around, I was working as an intern for the software company, and it was impossible to get time off. After that…well, it was just simpler to stay away. Without meaning to, my family made it convenient. I didn’t need to visit them; they seemed willing enough to come to Dallas.

All of that is about to end. I’m prepared to face my past. I joined Weight Watchers. If I happen to see Thom Sutton, I want him to know exactly what he’s missing. I’ve already lost five of the ten pounds I need to get rid of, and by next week he’ll hardly recognize me—if we even run into each other. We won’t, of course, but just on the off chance, I plan to be prepared.

Good ol’ Thom Sutton. I wonder what he’s doing now. Naturally I could ask, but no one dares mention the name Sutton to my family. It’s the Hatfields and McCoys or the Montagues and Capulets all over again. Except that it’s our mothers who started this ridiculous feud.

If I really wanted to know about Thom, I could ask Megan or Stephanie. They’re the only two girls out of my entire high school class who still live in Rose. But I wouldn’t do that. Inquiring about Thom would only invite questions from them about what happened between the two of us. As far as I’m concerned, the fewer people who know, the better.

He’s bound to be married, anyway. Good. I want him to be happy.

No, I don’t.

If I can’t be honest in my journal, then I shouldn’t keep one. Okay, I admit it—what I really want is for him to have suffered guilt and regret all these years. He should have pined for me. His life should be a bleak series of endless days filled with haunting memories of me. It’s what he deserves.

On a brighter note, I’m thrilled for Kristen. I’ll return home, help her plan her wedding, hold my head high and pray that Thom Sutton has the opportunity to see me from afar, gorgeous and thin. Then I want him to agonize over all the might-have-beens.




One (#ud848ac89-8f8c-5364-acc4-ca5f4e97b7b7)


It would be the wedding of the year. No—the wedding of the century.

Sarah McDowell intended to create the most exquisite event possible, a wedding worthy of Vogue magazine (or at least a two-page spread in the Rose, Oregon, Gazette). The entire town would talk about her daughter’s wedding.

The foundation for Sarah’s plans rested squarely on booking the Women’s Century Club for the reception. It was why she’d maintained her association with the club after that woman had been granted membership. She was outraged that such a fine institution would lower itself to welcome the likes of Mary Sutton.

Sarah refused to dwell on the sordid details. She couldn’t allow herself to get upset over something that had happened almost twenty years ago. Although it didn’t hurt any to imagine Mary hearing—second-or third-hand, of course—about Kristen’s wedding. As Sarah understood it, Mary’s daughter had eloped. Eloped, mind you, with some riffraff hazelnut farmer. Sarah didn’t know that for sure because it was her Christian duty not to gossip or think ill of others. However, sometimes information just happened to come one’s way….

Pulling into the parking lot of the Women’s Century Club, Sarah surveyed the grounds. Even this late in the year, the rose garden was breathtaking. Many of the carefully tended bushes still wore their blooms, and next June, when the wedding was scheduled, the garden would be stunning. The antique roses with their intoxicating scents and the more recent hybrids with their gorgeous shapes and colors would make a fitting backdrop for the beautiful bride and her handsome groom. It would be perfect, she thought with satisfaction. Absolutely perfect.

Sarah had stopped attending the Women’s Century Club meetings three years ago. Well, there wasn’t any need to obsess over the membership committee’s sorry lapse in judgment. For many years Sarah had chaired that committee herself. The instant she stepped down, Mary Sutton had applied for membership to the prestigious club—and received it. Now the only social event Sarah participated in was the annual Christmas Dance. Mary Sutton had robbed her of so much already, but Sarah wasn’t letting her ruin that, too.

Sarah did continue to meet with other friends from the club and managed to keep up with the news. She understood that Mary had become quite active in the association. Fine. Good for her. It gave the woman something to write about in her column for the weekly Rose Gazette. Not that Sarah read “About Town.” Someone had told her it was fairly popular, though. Which didn’t bother her in the least. Mary was a good writer; Sarah would acknowledge that much. But then, what one lacked in certain areas was often compensated in others. And Mary was definitely lacking in the areas of generosity, fairness, ethics…. She could go on.

With a click of her key chain, Sarah locked her car and headed toward the large, two-story stone structure. There was a cold wind blowing in from the ocean, and she hurried up the steps of the large veranda that surrounded the house. A blast of warm air greeted her as she walked inside. Immediately in front of her was the curved stairway leading to the ballroom on the second floor. She could already picture Kristen moving elegantly down those stairs, her dress sweeping grandly behind her. Today, evergreen garlands were hung along the mahogany railing, with huge red velvet bows tied at regular intervals. Gigantic potted poinsettias lined both sides of the stairway. The effect was both festive and tasteful.

“Oh, how lovely,” she said to Melody Darrington, the club’s longtime secretary.

“Yes, we’re very pleased with this year’s Christmas decorations.” Melody glanced up from her desk behind the half wall that overlooked the entry. The door to the office was open and Sarah heard the fax machine humming behind her. “Are you here to pick up your tickets for the Christmas dance?”

“I am,” Sarah confirmed. “And I’d like to book the club for June seventh for a reception.” She paused dramatically. “Kristen’s getting married.”

“Sarah, that’s just wonderful!”

“Yes, Jake and I are pleased.” This seriously understated her emotions. Kristen was the first of her three daughters to marry, and Sarah felt as if the wedding was the culmination of all her years as a caring, involved mother. She highly approved of Kristen’s fiancé. Jonathan Clark was not only a charming and considerate young man, he held a promising position at an investment firm and had a degree in business. His parents were college professors who lived in Eugene; he was their only son. Whenever she’d spoken with Jonathan’s mother, Louise Clark had sounded equally delighted.

Melody flipped the pages of the appointment book to June. “It’s a good idea to book the club early.”

Holding her breath, Sarah leaned over the half wall and stared down at the schedule. She relaxed the instant she saw that particular Saturday was free. The wedding date could remain unchanged.

“It looks like June seventh is open,” Melody said.

“Fabulous.” Sarah’s cell phone rang, and she reached inside her purse to retrieve it. She sold real estate, but since entering her fifties, she’d scaled back her hours on the job. Jake, who was head of the X-ray department at Rose Hospital, enjoyed traveling. Sarah no longer had the energy to accompany Jake and also maintain her status as a top-selling agent. The number displayed on her phone was that of her husband’s office. She’d call him back shortly. He was probably asking about the time of their eldest daughter’s flight. Jake and Sarah were going to meet Noelle at the small commuter airport later in the day. What a joy it would be to have all three of their girls home for Christmas, not to mention Noelle’s birthday, which was December twenty-fifth. This would be the first time in ten years that Noelle had returned to celebrate anything with her family. Sarah blamed Mary Sutton and her son for that, too.

“Should I give you a deposit now?” she asked, removing her checkbook.

“Since you’re a member of the club, that won’t be necessary.”

“Great. Then that’s settled and I can get busy with my day. I’ve got a couple of houses to show. Plus Jake and I are driving to the airport this afternoon to pick up Noelle. You remember our daughter Noelle, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“She’s living in Dallas these days, and has a high-powered job with one of the big computer companies.” What Sarah didn’t add was the Noelle had become a workaholic. Getting her twenty-eight-year-old daughter to take time off work was nearly impossible. Sarah and Jake made a point of visiting her once a year and sometimes twice, but this couldn’t go on. Noelle had to get over her phobia about returning to Rose—and the risk of seeing Thom Sutton. Oh, yes, those Suttons had done a lot of damage to the McDowells.

With Kristen announcing her engagement and inviting the Clarks to share their Christmas festivities, Sarah had strongly urged Noelle to come home for the celebration. This was an important year for their family, and it was absolutely necessary that Noelle be there with them. After some back-and-forth discussion, she’d finally capitulated.

“Before you leave, there’s something you should know,” Melody said hesitantly. “There’s been a rule change about members using the building.”

“Yes?” Sarah tensed, anticipating a roadblock.

“The new rule states that only members who have completed a minimum of ten hours’ community service approved by the club will be permitted to lease our facilities.”

“But I’m an active part of our community already,” Sarah complained. She provided plenty of services to others.

“I realize that. Unfortunately, the service project in question must be determined by the club and it must be completed by the end of December to qualify for the following year.”

Sarah gaped at her. “Do you mean to say that in addition to everything else I’m doing in the next two weeks, I have to complete some club project?”

“You haven’t been reading the newsletters, have you?” Melody asked, frowning.

Obviously not. Sarah refused to read about Mary Sutton, whose name seemed to appear in every issue these days.

“If you attended the meetings, you’d know it, too.” Melody added insult to injury by pointing out Sarah’s intentional absence.

Despite her irritation, Sarah managed a weak smile. “All right,” she muttered. “What can I do?”

“Actually, you’ve come at an opportune moment. We need someone who’s willing to pitch in on the Christmas baskets.”

Sarah was trying to figure out how she could squeeze in one more task before the holidays. “Exactly what would that entail?”

“Oh, it’ll be great fun. The ladies pooled the money they raised from the cookbook sale to buy gifts for these baskets. They’ve made up lists, and what you’d need to do is get everything on your list, arrange all the stuff inside the baskets and then deliver them to the Salvation Army by December twenty-third.”

That didn’t sound unreasonable. “I think I can do that.”

“Wonderful.” A smile lit up Melody’s face. “The woman who’s heading up the project will be grateful for some help.”

“The woman?” That sounded better already. At least she wouldn’t be stuck doing this alone.

“Mary Sutton.”

Sarah felt as though Melody had punched her. “Excuse me. For a moment I thought you said Mary Sutton.”

“I did.”

“I don’t mean to be catty here, but Mary and I have…a history.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to work something out. You’re both adults.”

Sarah was stunned by the woman’s lack of sensitivity. She wanted to argue, to explain that this was unacceptable, but she couldn’t think of exactly what to say.

“You did want the club for June seventh, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes, of course, but—”

“Then be here tomorrow morning at ten to meet with Mary.”

Numb and speechless, Sarah slowly turned and trudged toward the door.

“Sarah,” Melody called. “Don’t forget the dance tickets.”

Dance. How could she think about the dance when she was being forced to confront a woman who detested her? The feeling might be mutual but that didn’t make it any less awkward.

One across. A four-letter word for fragrant flower. Rose, naturally. Noelle McDowell penciled in the answer and moved to the next clue. A prickly feeling crawled up her spine and she raised her head. She disliked the short commuter flights. This one, out of Portland, carried twenty-four passengers. It saved having to rent a vehicle or asking her parents to make the long drive into the big city to pick her up.

The feeling persisted and she glanced over her shoulder. She instantly jerked back and slid down in her seat as far as the constraints of the seat belt allowed. It couldn’t be. No, please, she muttered, closing her eyes. Not Thom. Not after all these years. Not now. But it was, it had to be. No one else would look at her with such complete, unadulterated antagonism. He had some nerve after what he’d done to her.

Long before she was ready, the pilot announced that the plane was preparing to land in Rose. On these flights, no carry-on bags were permitted, and Noelle hadn’t taken anything more than her purse on board. Her magazines would normally go in her briefcase, but that didn’t fit in the compact space beneath her seat, so the flight attendant had stowed it. She had a Weight Watchers magazine and a crossword puzzle book marked EASY in large letters across the top. She wasn’t going to let Thom see her with either and stuffed them in the outside pocket of her purse, folding one magazine over the other.

Her pulse thundered like crazy. The man who’d broken her heart sat only two rows behind her, looking as sophisticated as if he’d stepped off the pages of GQ. He’d always been tall, dark and handsome—like a twenty-first century Cary Grant. Classic features that were just rugged enough to be interesting and very, very masculine. Dark eyes, glossy dark hair. An impeccable sense of style. Surely he was married. But finding out would mean asking her sister or one of her friends who still lived in Rose. Coward that she was, Noelle didn’t want to know. Okay, she did, but not if it meant having to ask.

The plane touched down and Noelle braced herself against the jolt of the wheels bouncing on tarmac. As soon as they’d coasted to a stop, the Unfasten Seat Belt sign went off, and the people around her instantly leaped to their feet. Noelle took her time. Her hair was a fright. Up at three that morning to catch the 6:00 a.m. out of Dallas/Ft. Worth, she’d run a brush through the dark tangles, forgoing the usual routine of fussing with mousse. As a result, large ringlets fell like bedsprings about her face. Normally, her hair was shaped and controlled and coerced into gentle waves. But today she had the misfortune of looking like Shirley Temple in one of her 1930s movies—and in front of Thom Sutton, no less.

When it was her turn to leave her seat, she stood, looking staunchly ahead. If luck was with her, she could slip away unnoticed and pretend she hadn’t seen him. Luck, however, was on vacation and the instant she stepped into the aisle, the handle of her purse caught on the seat arm. Both magazines popped out of the outside pocket and flew into the air, only to be caught by none other than Thom Sutton. The crossword puzzle magazine tumbled to the floor and he was left holding the Weight Watchers December issue. As his gaze slid over her, she immediately sucked in her stomach.

“I read it for the fiction,” she announced, then added, “Don’t I know you?” She tried to sound indifferent—and to look thin. “It’s Tim, isn’t it?” she asked, frowning as though she couldn’t quite place him.

“Thom,” he corrected. “Good to see you again, Nadine.”

“Noelle,” she said bitterly.

He glared at her until someone from the back of the line called, “Would you two mind having your reunion when you get off the plane?”

“Sorry,” Thom said over his shoulder.

“I barely know this man.” Noelle wanted her fellow passengers to hear the truth. “I once thought I did, but I was wrong,” she explained, walking backward toward the exit.

“Whatever,” the guy behind them said loudly.

“You’re a fine one to talk,” Thom said. His eyes were as dark and cold as those of the snowman they’d built in Lions’ Park their senior year of high school—like glittering chips of coal.

“You have your nerve,” she muttered, whirling around just in time to avoid crashing into the open cockpit. She smiled sweetly at the pilot. “Thank you for a most pleasant flight.”

He returned the smile. “I hope you’ll fly with us again.”

“I will.”

“Good to see you, Thom,” the pilot said next.

Placing her hand on the railing of the steep stairs that led to the ground, Noelle did her best to keep her head high, her shoulders square—and her eyes front. The last thing she wanted to do was trip and make an even worse fool of herself by falling flat on her face.

She was shocked by a blast of cold air. After living in Texas for the last ten years, she’d forgotten how cold it could get in the Pacific Northwest. Her thin cashmere wrap was completely inadequate.

“One would think you’d know better than to wear a sweater here in December,” Thom said, coming down the steps directly behind her.

“I forgot.”

“If you came home more often, you’d have remembered.”

“You keep track of my visits?” She scowled at him. A thick strand of curly hair slapped her in the face and she tossed it back with a jerk of her head. Unfortunately she nearly put out her neck in the process.

“No, I don’t keep track of your visits. Frankly, I couldn’t care less.”

“That’s fine by me.” Having the last word was important, no matter how inane it was.

The luggage cart came around and she grabbed her briefcase from the top and made for the interior of the small airport. Her flight had landed early, which meant that her parents probably hadn’t arrived yet. At least her luck was consistent—all bad. One thing was certain: the instant Thom caught sight of her mother and father, he’d make himself scarce.

He removed his own briefcase and started into the terminal less than two feet behind her. Because of his long legs, he quickly outdistanced her. Refusing to let him pass her, Noelle hurried ahead, practically trotting.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little silly?” he asked.

“About what?” She blinked, hoping to convey a look of innocence.

“Never mind.” He smiled, which infuriated her further.

“No, I’m serious,” she insisted. “What do you mean?”

He simply shook his head and turned toward the baggage claim area. They were the first passengers to get there. Noelle stood on one side of the conveyor belt and Thom on the other. He ignored her and she tried to pretend he’d never been born.

That proved to be impossible because ten years ago Thom Sutton had ripped her heart right out.

For most of their senior year of high school, Thom and Noelle had been in love; they’d also managed to hide that fact from their parents. Sneaking out of her room at night, meeting him after school and passing notes to each other had worked quite effectively.

Then they’d argued about their mothers and the ongoing feud between Sarah and Mary. They’d soon made up, however, realizing that what really mattered was their love. Because they were both eighteen and legally entitled to marry without parental consent, they’d decided to elope. It’d been Thom’s suggestion. According to him, it was the only way they could get married, since the parents on both sides would oppose their wishes and try to put obstacles in their path. But once they were married, he said, they could bring their families together.

Noelle felt mortified now to remember how much she’d trusted Thom. But their whole “engagement” had turned out to be a ploy to humiliate and embarrass her. It seemed Thom was his mother’s son, after all.

She’d been proud of her love for Thom, and before she left to meet him that fateful evening, she’d boldly announced her intentions to her family. Her stomach twisted at the memory. Her parents were shocked as well as appalled; she and Thom had kept their secret well. Her mother had burst into tears, her father had shouted and her two younger sisters had wailed in protest. Undeterred, Noelle had marched out the door, suitcase in hand, to meet the man she loved. The man she’d defied her family to marry. Except that he didn’t show up.

At first she’d assumed it was a misunderstanding—that she’d mistaken the agreed-upon time. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she’d phoned his house and asked to speak to him, only to learn that Thom had gone bowling.

He’d gone bowling? Apparently some friends from school had phoned and off he’d gone, leaving her to wait in doubt and misery. The parking lot at the bowling alley confirmed his father’s words. There was Thom’s car—and inside the Bowlerama was Thom, carousing with his friends. Noelle had peered through the window and seen the waitress sitting on his lap and the other guys gathered around, joking and teasing. Before she went home, Noelle had placed a nasty note on his windshield, in which she described him as a scum-of-the-earth bastard. Their supposed elopement, their so-called love had all been a fraud, a cruel joke. She figured it was revenge what for her mother had done, losing Thom’s grandmother’s precious tea service. Not losing it, actually. She’d borrowed it to display at an open house for another real estate agent—and someone had taken it. That was how the feud started and it had escalated steadily after that.

To make matters worse, she’d had to return home in humiliation and admit that Thom had stood her up. Like the heroine of an old-fashioned melodrama, she’d been jilted, abandoned and forsaken.

For days she’d moped around the house, weeping and miserable. Thom hadn’t phoned or contacted her again. It was difficult to believe he could be so heartless, but she had all the evidence she needed. She hadn’t seen or talked to him since. For ten years she’d avoided returning to the scene of her shame.

The grinding sound of the conveyor belt gearing up broke Noelle from her reverie. Luggage started to roll out from the black hole behind the rubber curtain. Thom stepped forward, in a hurry to claim his suitcase and leave, or so it seemed. Noelle was no less eager to escape. She’d rather wait in the damp cold outside the terminal than stand five feet across from Thomas Sutton.

The very attractive Thomas Sutton. Even better-looking than he’d been ten years ago. Life just wasn’t fair.

“I would’ve thought your wife would be here to pick you up,” she said without looking at him. She shouldn’t have spoken at all, but suddenly she had to know.

“Is that your unsubtle way of asking if I’m married?”

She ground her teeth. “Stood up any other girls in the last ten years?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do it, Noelle.”

“You’re the one who shouldn’t have done it.”

The man from the back of the plane waltzed past Noelle and reached for his suitcase. “Why don’t you two just kiss and make up,” he suggested, winking at Thom.

“I don’t think so,” Noelle said, sending Thom a contemptuous glare. She was astonished to see his anger, as though he had something to be angry about. She was the injured party here.

“On that I’ll agree with you,” Thom said. He caught hold of a suitcase and yanked it off the belt with enough force to topple a second suitcase. Without another word, he turned and walked out the door.

No sooner had he disappeared than the glass doors opened and in walked Noelle’s parents.

Noelle’s youngest sister held a special place in her heart. Carley Sue was an unexpected surprise, born when Noelle was fifteen and Kristen twelve. She’d only been three when Noelle left for college. Nevertheless, all three sisters remained close. Or as close as email, phone calls and the occasional visit to Dallas allowed.

Sitting on Noelle’s bed, Carley rested her chin on one hand as Noelle unpacked her suitcase. “You don’t mind that I have your old room, do you?” she asked anxiously.

“Heavens, no. It’s only right that you do.”

Some of the worry disappeared from Carley’s eyes. “Are you really going to be home for two whole weeks?”

“I am.” Noelle had tentatively planned a discounted cruise with a couple of friends. Instead, she was vacationing with her parents, planning her sister’s wedding and trying not to think about Thom Sutton.

“You’re going to the Christmas dance, aren’t you?”

“Not if I can get out of it.” Her mother was the one who insisted on these social outings, but Noelle would live the rest of her life content if she never attended another dance. They reminded her to much of those long-ago evenings with Thom… .

“Mom says you’re going.”

Noelle sat down on the end of the bed and sighed. “I’ll tell her I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Don’t do that,” Carley advised. “She’ll buy you a pink dress. Mom loves pink. Not just any old pink, either, but something that looks exactly like Pepto-Bismol. She actually wanted Kristen to choose pink for her wedding colors.” She grimaced. Reaching down for her feet, Carley curled her fingers over her bare toes and nodded vigorously. “You’d better come to the dance.”

This was one of the reasons Noelle found excuse after excuse to stay away from Rose. Admittedly it wasn’t the primary reason—Thom Sutton and his mother were responsible for that. But as much as she loved her family, she dreaded being dragged from one social event to the next. She could see her mother putting her on display—in Pepto-Bismol pink, according to Carley. If that wasn’t bad enough, Sarah had an embarrassing tendency to speak as though Noelle wasn’t in the room, bragging outrageously over every little accomplishment.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies tomorrow?” Noelle asked her sister.

Carley’s eyes brightened. “Sure! I was hoping we’d get to do things together.”

The doorbell chimed and Carley rolled onto her stomach. “That’s Kristen. She’s coming over without Jonathan tonight.”

“You like Jonathan?” Noelle asked.

“Yeah.” Carley grinned happily. “He danced with me once and no one asked him to or anything.”

This was encouraging. Maybe he’d dance with her, too.

“Noelle!” Kristen called from the far end of the hallway. She burst into the room, full of energy and spirit. Instantly Noelle was wrapped in a tight embrace. “I can’t believe you’re here—oh sis, it’s so good to see you.”

Noelle hugged her back. She missed the chats they used to have; discussions over the phone just weren’t the same as hugs and smiles. “Guess who I ran into on the plane?” Noelle had been dying to talk about the chance encounter with Thom.

Some of the excitement faded from Kristen’s eyes. “Don’t tell me. Thom Sutton?”

Noelle nodded.

“Who’s Thom Sutton?” Carley asked, glancing from one sister to the other.

“A guy I once dated.”

“Were you lovers?”

“Carley!”

“Just curious.” She shrugged as if this was information she was somehow entitled to.

“Where?” Kristen demanded.

“He was on the same flight as me.”

“He still lives here, you know. He’s some kind of executive for a mail-order company that’s really taken off in the last few years. Apparently he does a lot of traveling.”

“How’d you know that?” They’d always avoided the topic of Thom Sutton in their telephone and email communications.

“Jon told me about him. I think Thom might be one of his clients.”

“Oh.” Not only was Thom Sutton gorgeous, he was successful, too. “I suppose he’s engaged to someone stunningly beautiful.” That was to be expected.

“I hear—again from Jon—that he dates quite a bit, but there’s no one serious.”

Noelle shouldn’t be pleased, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to examine that reaction too closely.

“I want to know what happened,” Carley demanded, rising to her knees. “I’m not a kid anymore. Tell me!”

“He was Noelle’s high school sweetheart,” Kirsten explained.

“The guy who left you at the altar?”

“Who told you that?” Noelle asked, although the answer was obvious. “And he didn’t leave me at the altar.” Just being accurate, she told herself. I’m not defending him.

“Mom told me ’cause she wants me to keep away from those Suttons. When I asked her why, she said you learned your lesson the hard way. She said a Sutton broke your heart and jilted you.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Kristen told her.

“I want to know everything,” Carley pleaded. “How can I hate them if I don’t know what they did that was so awful?”

“You shouldn’t hate anyone.”

“I don’t, not really, but if our family doesn’t like their family, then I should know why.”

“It’s a long story.”

Carley sat back on her heels. “That’s what Mom said.”

“God help me,” Kristen murmured, covering her eyes with one hand. “Don’t tell me I already sound like Mom. I didn’t think this would happen until I turned thirty.”

Noelle laughed, although she wasn’t sure how funny it was, since she herself was only days from her twenty-ninth birthday.

“Did you love him terribly?” Carley asked with a faraway look in her eyes.

Noelle wasn’t sure how to respond. She felt a distant and remembered pain but refused to let it take hold. “I thought I did.”

“It was wildly romantic,” Kristen added. “They were madly in love, but then they had a falling-out—”

“That’s one way to put it,” Noelle said, interrupting her sister. Thom had apparently fallen out of love with her. He’d certainly fallen out of their plans to elope.

“This is all so sad,” Carley said with an exaggerated sigh.

“Our parents not getting along is what started this in the first place.”

“At least you and Thom didn’t kill yourselves, like Romeo and Juliet—”

“No.” Noelle shook her head. “I’ve always been the sane, sensible sister. Remember?” But even as she spoke, she recognized her words for the lie they were. Staying away for ten years was a pretty extreme and hardly “sensible” reaction. Even she knew that. The fact was, though, something that had begun as a protest had simply become habit.

“Oh, sure,” Kristen teased. “Very sensible. You work too hard, you don’t date nearly enough and you avoid Rose as though we’ve got an epidemic of the plague.”

“Guilty, guilty, not guilty.” She wasn’t purposely avoiding Rose, she told herself, at least not anymore and not to the extent that Kristen implied. Noelle’s job was demanding and it was difficult to take off four or five days in a row.

“I’ve never met Thom, and already I don’t like him,” Carley announced. “Anyone who broke your heart is a dweeb. Besides, if he married you the way he said he would, you’d be living in Rose now and I could see you anytime I wanted.”

“Well put, little sister,” Kristen said. She shrugged off her coat, then joined Carley at the foot of the bed.

Noelle smiled at her two sisters and realized with a pang how much she missed them. Back in Texas it was all too easy to let work consume her life—to relegate these important relationships to fifteen-minute conversations on the phone.

“Look,” Kristen said and stretched out her arm so Noelle could see her engagement ring. It was a solitaire diamond, virtually flawless, in a classic setting. A perfect choice for Kristen. “Jon and I shopped for weeks. He wanted the highest-quality stone for the best price.” Her eyes softened as she studied the ring.

“It’s beautiful,” Noelle whispered, overcome for a moment by the sheer joy she saw in her sister’s face.

“You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you?”

“As long as I don’t have to wear a dress the color of Pepto-Bismol.”

“You’re safe on that account.”

“If you ask me to be the flower girl, I think I’ll scream,” Carley muttered. “Why won’t anyone believe me when I tell them I’m not a little kid anymore? I’m almost fourteen!”

“Not for ten months,” Noelle reminded her.

“But, I’m going to be fourteen.”

Kristen brushed the hair away from Carley’s face. “Actually, I intended to ask you to be a bridesmaid.”

“You did?” Carley shrieked with happiness. “Well, then, I’ll tell you what I overheard Mom tell Dad.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she detailed a conversation between their parents regarding Christmas baskets.

“Mom’s meeting with Mrs. Sutton tomorrow morning?” Noelle repeated incredulously.

“That’s what she said. She didn’t sound happy about it, either.”

“I’ll just bet she didn’t.”

“This should be interesting,” Kristen murmured.

Yes, it should, Noelle silently agreed. It should be very interesting, indeed.




NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 19

(2:00 a.m.)

So I saw him before I even got back to town. Of all the flights I could’ve taken…

Seeing Thom after all these years was probably the most humbling experience of my life, except for the last time I was with him. Correction. Wasn’t with him. Why did this have to happen to me? Or did I bring it on myself because of my obsession over seeing him again?

Okay, the thing to do is look at the positive aspect of this. It’s over. I saw him, it was worse than I could have imagined, but now I don’t need to worry about it anymore. Thom made it clear that he wasn’t any happier to see me than I was about running into him. At least the feeling’s mutual. Although I’m kind of confused by that, since I’m the offended one. He jilted me. Unfortunately, after this latest run-in, he doesn’t have any reason to regret that. I behaved like an idiot.

On a brighter note—and I’m always looking for brighter notes!—it’s good to be home. I shouldn’t have stayed away for ten years. That was foolish and I’m sorry about it. I walked all through the house, stopping in each room. After a while, I got all teary as I looked around. Nothing’s really changed and yet everything’s different. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed my home. Mom’s got the house all decorated for Christmas, including those funny-looking cotton-ball snowmen I made at camp a thousand years ago. When I commented on that, she told me it was tradition. She puts them out every Christmas. She got all choked up and I did, too. We hugged, and I promised I’d never stay away this long again. And I won’t.

Carley Sue (she hates it when I use her middle name) is so much fun. Seeing her here, in her own space (even if it is my old room), is like discovering an entirely different side of her. She’s freer, more relaxed, and so eager to share the camaraderie between me and Kristen.

Speaking of Kristen—she’s on cloud nine. We sat up and talked for hours, and she told me all about meeting and falling in love with Jonathan. I’d heard it before, but the story felt brand-new as I listened to her tell it in person. It’s so romantic, meeting her future husband in a flower shop when he’s there to pick up a dozen red roses for another woman. I give him credit, though; Jonathan knew a real flower when he saw one. It was Kristen who walked out with those roses.

Carley warned me that Mom’s going to be looking for company when she has to meet Mrs. Sutton in the morning. We’ve already thwarted her. We sisters have our ways….




Two (#ud848ac89-8f8c-5364-acc4-ca5f4e97b7b7)


Sarah would have preferred a root canal to meeting with Mary Sutton. A root canal without anaesthetic.

Her husband lingered over his morning coffee before leaving for the hospital. “You’re really stressed about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes!” Sarah wasn’t afraid to admit it. “The last time I spoke to Mary was the day she wrote that dreadful article about me in her column.”

“You think that article was only about you,” Jake said. “But it could’ve been about any real estate agent. Maybe even a bunch of different ones.” His voice drifted off.

Sarah didn’t understand why her husband was arguing when they both knew the entire dreadful piece titled The Nightmare Real Estate Agent, was directed solely at her. Although she hadn’t committed any of sins Mary had described, she’d been guilty of the one crime Mary hadn’t mentioned. Never once had she misrepresented a home or hidden a defect. Nor had she ever low-balled a client. But Sarah had borrowed something she couldn’t return.

“Was that before or after you planted the OPEN HOUSE sign in her front yard?” Jake asked.

“Before, and she deserved it.”

Her husband chuckled. “Go on, meet with her and don’t for a moment let her know you’re upset.”

“You sound like a commercial for deodorant.”

“Yes, dear.” He kissed her cheek and headed out the door to work.

Tightening the belt of her housecoat, Sarah gazed out the front window as he drove away. Meet with her… Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one coming face-to-face with Mary after all these years.

Yawning, Noelle wandered into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. Sarah’s spirits lifted immediately. It was so good to have her daughter home—and even better that she’d arrived at such an opportune moment. Noelle could act as a buffer between her and that demented newspaper writer who’d once been her friend. True, there was the business with the Sutton boy, but if nothing else, that unfortunate bit of history would distract them all from this current awkwardness. She felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of involving her daughter. Still, she needed reinforcements, and surely Noelle was long over her infatuation with Thom.

“Good morning, dear,” Sarah said, mustering a cheerful greeting. “I was wondering if you’d like to come with me this morning.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the plea out of her voice.

Her daughter leaned against the kitchen counter, holding the mug with both hands. “I promised to take Carley shopping and to the movies.”

“Oh. That won’t be until later, will it?”

“Mom,” Noelle said, sighing loudly. “I’m not going to let you use me as a buffer when you meet Mrs. Sutton.”

“Who told you I was meeting…” She didn’t bother to finish the question, since the answer was obvious. Jake! Dumping the rest of her coffee down the sink, she reluctantly went to her room to dress. She’d be entering the lion’s den alone, so she wanted to look her best.

“I don’t think she’s nearly the monster you make her out to be,” Noelle called after her.

That her own daughter, her oldest child—the very one who’d been jilted by Thom Sutton—could say such a thing was beyond Sarah. As far as she was concerned, there was too much forgiveness going on here. And if Noelle thought Mary was so wonderful, then she should be willing to come along.

Didn’t Noelle grasp the unpleasantness of this situation? Clearly not. Even Jake didn’t take it seriously. He seemed to think this was some kind of joke! Well, she, for one, wasn’t laughing.

Despite her bad feelings about the meeting with Mary Sutton, Sarah arrived at the Women’s Century Club twenty minutes early. This was the way she’d planned it. As she recalled, Mary possessed a number of irritating habits, one of which was an inability to ever show up on time. Therefore, Sarah considered it advantageous to be early, as though that would highlight Mary’s lack of responsibility and basic courtesy.

“Good morning, Melody,” she said as she stepped briskly into the entry.

“Morning,” came Melody’s reply. The phone rang just then, and she reached for it, still standing in front of the copy machine.

While she waited, Sarah checked her appearance in the lobby restroom. She’d taken an inordinate amount of time with her makeup that morning. Her hair was impeccably styled, if she did say so herself, and her clothes looked both businesslike and feminine. Choosing the right outfit was of the utmost importance; in the end, after three complete changes, she’d chosen navy-blue wool slacks, a white cashmere sweater and a silk scarf with a pattern of holly and red berries.

Melody finished with the phone. “Sorry, it’s crazy around here this morning. Everyone’s getting ready for the dance.”

Of course. In her dread, she’d nearly forgotten about the annual dance.

The door opened, and with a dramatic flair—all swirling scarves and large gestures—Mary Sutton entered the building. Did the woman think she was on stage, for heaven’s sake? “Hello Melody,” she said, her voice light and breezy. Then—as if she’d only now noticed Sarah—she turned in her direction, frowned slightly and then acknowledged her with a curt nod.

“Good to see you, too,” Sarah muttered.

“I’m here for the list. The Christmas basket list,” Mary said, walking over to the half wall behind which Melody stood.

“That’s why I’m here,” Sarah said and forced herself into the space between Mary and the wall.

The two jockeyed for position, elbowing each other until Melody stared at them aghast. “What’s wrong with you two?” she asked.

“As I explained earlier, we have a history,” Sarah said, as though that should account for everything.

“A very long and difficult history,” Mary added.

“You’ll have to work together on this.” Melody frowned at them both. “I’d hate to see these needy families deprived because you two can’t get along.” The phone rang again and Melody scooped up the receiver.

“You’re impossible to work with,” Mary said, practically shoving Sarah aside.

“I won’t stand here and be insulted by the likes of you,” Sarah insisted. Talk about impossible!

“This isn’t going to work.”

“You’re telling me!” She was ready to walk out the door. But then she realized that was exactly what Mary wanted her to do. She’d been provoking Sarah from the moment she’d made that stagy entrance. This was a low, underhanded attempt to prevent her from holding Kristen’s wedding reception at the club. Somehow Mary had found out about the wedding and hoped to thwart the McDowells’ plans. That had to be it. But Sarah refused to let a Sutton—especially this Sutton—manipulate her.

“There are ways of doing what needs to be done without tripping over each other’s feet,” Sarah murmured, trying to sound conciliatory. She could only hope that Kristen truly appreciated the sacrifice she was making on her behalf. If it wasn’t for the wedding, she wouldn’t be caught dead working on a project with Mary Sutton, charity or not!

“What do you mean?”

“There must be a way.” She personally didn’t have any ideas, but perhaps the club secretary could think of something. “Melody?”

Another line rang, and Melody put the first caller on hold in order to answer the second. She placed her palm over the mouthpiece and said, “Why don’t you two go talk this out in the lobby?” She waved them impatiently away. “I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

Sarah took a few steps back, unwilling to voluntarily give up hard-won territory. This was more of a problem than she’d expected. For her part, she was willing to make the best of it, but she could already tell that Mary had her own agenda.

“The Christmas decorations are lovely this year, aren’t they?” Sarah said, making an effort to start again. After all, she was stuck with the woman.

“Yes,” came Mary’s stilted reply. “I’m the chair of the decorating committee.”

“Oh.” She studied the staircase again and noticed a number of flaws apparent on closer inspection. Walking to the bottom step, she straightened a bow.

“Leave my bows alone!”

“A little possessive, are we?” Sarah murmured.

“You would be, too, if you’d spent twenty minutes making each of those velvet bows.”

“I could have done it in ten.”

“Next year, I’ll let you.” Then, as if she was bored with the subject, Mary said, “I understand Noelle’s in town.”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate if you’d keep your son away from her.”

“My son!” Mary cried. “You don’t need to worry about that. Thom learned his lesson as far as your daughter’s concerned a long time ago.”

“On the contrary, I believe your son broke my daughter’s heart.”

“Ladies!” Melody came out from behind the counter, shaking her head. “I thought we were discussing ways you two can work together to fill those Christmas baskets.”

“I don’t think I can work with her,” Mary said, crossing her arms. She presented Sarah with a view of her back.

“Then divide the list,” Melody suggested. “One of you can shop for the gifts and the other can buy the groceries. Arrange a day to meet and assemble the baskets, and then you’ll be done with it.”

Sarah didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of that earlier. It made perfect sense and would allow them to maintain a healthy distance from each other.

“Divide the list,” Mary instructed with a dramatic wave of her hand.

“By all means, divide the list,” Sarah said and mimicked Mary’s gesture.

“All right,” Melody said. She went back to her office, with the two women following, and slipped the list into the photocopier. The phone rang again, and she answered it, holding the receiver between her shoulder and ear. Melody retrieved the original and the copy, reached for the scissors and cut both lists in two. Still talking, she dropped the papers, then picked them up and handed half of the original list to Mary and half to Sarah. The copies of each woman’s list went into a file on her desk.

Sarah glanced over her list and tucked it inside her purse. “When do you suggest we meet to assemble the baskets?”

“The twenty-third before noon. That way, we’ll be able to drop them off at the Salvation Army in plenty of time. They’ll distribute the baskets on Christmas Eve.”

“Fine.” That settled, Sarah charged out the door without a backward glance. This wasn’t the best solution, but it was manageable. She’d do her share of the work, and she wasn’t about to let anyone suggest otherwise.

“This is so cool,” Carley said as they left the mall late Thursday afternoon, their arms loaded with bags and packages. Noelle smiled fondly at her youngest sister. That summer, Carley had spent two weeks with her in Texas while their parents were on a cruise. She’d matured noticeably in the six months since then.

“Mom’s not selling much real estate anymore,” her sister told her as they climbed into the car. “I think she’s bored with it, but she won’t admit it.”

“Really?”

“She’s totally involved in Kristen’s wedding. It’s all she thinks about. She’s read a whole bunch of books and magazine articles and has everything set in her mind. Just the other day, she said that what this town really needs is a wedding planner.”

“And you think Mom would enjoy that?”

“Are you kidding?” Carley said. “She’d love it.”

Their mother was extremely sociable, which was one of the reasons she was such a successful real estate agent, Noelle mused. Sarah knew nearly everyone in town and had wonderful connections. Perhaps Carley was right.

“The Admiral really hasn’t changed,” Noelle murmured. She’d spent a lot of time at the old downtown theater, back in high school. It was there, in the balcony, that Thom had first kissed her. To this day—as much as she wanted to forget it—she remembered the thrill of that kiss.

The Admiral was a classic theater built sixty years earlier. The screen was huge and the second-floor balcony held the plush loge seats—always Noelle’s favorite place to sit.

They purchased the tickets, a large bucket of popcorn and drinks.

“Do you want to go up to the balcony?” Carley asked.

“Where else would we sit?” Noelle was already halfway up the winding staircase that led to the second floor. She went straight to the front row and plopped down on a cushioned seat. Carley plopped down beside her. The main feature was a Christmas release, an animated film starring the voices of Billy Crystal and Nathan Lane.

“I’m not a kid anymore, but I’m glad you wanted to see this movie, too,” her sister confided.

Noelle placed the bucket of popcorn between them. “Thanks for giving me the excuse.” She leaned forward and looked at the audience below. The theater was only half-full and she wondered if she’d recognize anyone.

“Oh, my goodness,” she whispered. This couldn’t be happening! Thom Sutton sat almost directly below her. If that wasn’t bad enough, a blonde sat in the seat beside him and—to Noelle’s disgust—had her hands all over him.

“What?” Carley demanded.

“It’s Thom.” Heaven help her, Noelle couldn’t keep from watching. The blonde’s hand lingered at the base of his neck; she was stroking his hair with all the tenderness of a longtime lover.

“Not Thom Sutton? The son of the enemy?” Carley asked.

Noelle nodded. Sad and shocking though it was, he obviously still had the power to hurt her. No, not hurt her—infuriate her!

Carley reached for a kernel of popcorn and tossed it down.

Noelle gasped, grabbing her sister’s hand. The last thing she wanted was to call attention to the balcony. “Don’t do that!”

“Why not? He jilted you and now he’s here with another woman.” She hurled another kernel in his direction.

Noelle glanced down and saw the blonde nibbling on his earlobe. That did it. She scooped out a handful of popcorn and threw it over the balcony railing. Noelle and her sister leaned back and smothered their giggles. A few minutes later, unable to resist, Noelle looked down again.

“Oh, no,” Carley muttered under her breath as she sent a fresh shower of popcorn over the edge. She jerked back instantly.

“What?” Noelle asked.

“I think we’re in trouble. He just turned around and looked up here and I don’t think he’s pleased.”

Fine, the management could throw her out of the theater if he complained. Noelle didn’t care.

“I want to know about you and him,” Carley said. “I wasn’t even born when his mom and our mom had their big fight.”

Noelle was reluctant to describe all this old history, but she supposed her sister had a right to know. “Well, Mom had just started selling real estate and was making new friends. She claims Mary was jealous of those friends, especially one whose name was Cheryl. Cheryl had been working at the agency for a while and was kind of showing Mom the ropes. She was holding an open house and wanted something elegant to set off the dining room. Mom knew that Mary had this exquisite silver tea service—the perfect thing. But Mom also knew that if she asked Mary to lend it to Cheryl, Mrs. Sutton would turn her down. Instead, Mom asked to borrow it for herself, which was a fib.”

Carley frowned. “So that’s why Mrs. Sutton blamed Mom? Because Mom lied—I mean fibbed—and then the expensive silver tea service got stolen? Oh, I bet Mom was just sick about it.”

“She felt awful. According to Mrs. Sutton, the tea service had belonged to her grandmother and was a family heirloom. It was irreplaceable.”

“What did Mom do?”

“She called the police and offered a reward for its return, but the tea service didn’t turn up. She went to every antique store in the area, looking for something similar. Finally there was nothing more she could do. She tried to repair the damage to the friendship, but Mrs. Sutton was angry—and really, you can’t blame her. She was hurt because Mom had misled her. They got into this big argument about it and everything escalated from there. Mrs. Sutton did some petty things and Mom retaliated. Next thing you know, a grudge developed that’s gone on to this day.”

“Retaliated?” Carley asked. “How?”

“When it became clear that Mrs. Sutton wasn’t going to forgive and forget, Mom tried another tactic. She thought she’d be funny.” Noelle smiled at the memory. “Mrs. Sutton got her hair cut, and Mom sent her flowers and a sympathy card. Then Mrs. Sutton ordered pizza with double anchovies and had it delivered to Mom. You know how Mom hates anchovies—and furthermore she had to pay for it.” She shook her head. “It’s sad, isn’t it? That a good friendship should fall apart for such a silly reason.”

“Yeah,” Carley agreed. “They acted pretty childish.”

“And my relationship with Thom was one of the casualties.”

“When did you fall in love with him?” Carley wanted to know.

“We became good friends when we were kids. For a long time, our families got along really well. We often went on picnics and outings together. Thom and I were the closest in age, and we were constant companions—until the argument.”

“What happened after the argument?”

“Mrs. Sutton sent Thom and his older sister to a private school, and I didn’t see him again for about six years. He came back to public school when we were sophomores. We didn’t have a lot in common anymore and hardly had anything to do with each other until we both were assigned to the same English class in our senior year.”

“That was when you fell in love?” Carley’s voice rose wistfully.

Noelle nodded, and the familiar pain tightened her stomach. “Apparently I fell harder than Thom.”

Noelle carefully glanced down again. Talking about Thom and her romance—especially while she was sitting in this theater—brought up memories she’d prefer to forget. Why wouldn’t the stupid movie start? It was two minutes past the scheduled time.

The boy who’d rung up the popcorn order marched down the side aisle toward Noelle and Carley. He wore a bored but determined look. “There’s been a complaint from the people down below about you throwing popcorn,” he said accusingly.

Noelle could feel the heat build up in her cheeks. “I’m sorry—that was, uh, an accident.”

The kid’s expression said he’d heard it all before. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again, okay?”

“It won’t,” Noelle promised him.

“Sorry,” Carley said in a small voice as the boy left.

“It was my fault. I encouraged you.”

“But I started it.”

“You think you’re the one who invented throwing popcorn? Hey, I’ve got fifteen years on you.”

“I want to fall in love one day, too,” Carley said, leaning back in her seat, which rocked slightly.

“You will,” Noelle said, hoping her sister had better luck in that department than she’d had.

The lights dimmed then and with a grand, sweeping motion the huge velvet curtains hanging over the screen slowly parted. Soon, they were watching previews for upcoming features. Noelle absently nibbled on popcorn and let her mind wander.

Thom had changed if the blonde down below was the type of woman he found attractive. That shouldn’t surprise her, though. Time changed a lot of things in life. Some days, when she felt lonely and especially sorry for herself, she tried to imagine what would’ve happened if she had married Thom all those years ago. Getting married that young rarely worked out. They might’ve been divorced, she might’ve ended up a single mother, she might never have completed her education…. All kinds of difficult outcomes were possible. In all honesty, she told herself, it was for the best that they hadn’t run off together.

Carley slid forward and peeked over the railing. Almost immediately she flopped back. “You wouldn’t believe what they’re doing now.”

“Probably not.”

“They’re—”

Noelle gripped her sister’s elbow. “I don’t want to know.”

Carley’s eyes were huge. “You don’t want me to tell you?”

“No.”

Her sister stared at her in utter amazement. “You really don’t care?”

Noelle shook her head. That wasn’t the whole truth—or even part of it. But she didn’t want to know if Thom had his arm around the blonde or if he was kissing her—or anything else. It was a lot less painful to keep her head buried in a popcorn bucket. Forget Weight Watchers. Sometimes fat grams were the only source of comfort.

“Are you going to confront him after the movie?” Carley asked excitedly.

Noelle snickered. “Hardly.”

“Why not?”

“Just watch the movie,” she advised.

Carley settled in her seat and and began to rock back and forth. Another time, the action might have annoyed Noelle, but just then she found it oddly comforting. She wanted a special someone to put his arm around her and gently rock her. To create a private world for the two of them, the way Thom had once done in this very theater, on this very balcony. He’d kissed her here and claimed her heart. It’d been a pivotal moment in their fledgling romance. From that point onward, they knew—or at least Noelle had known. She was in love and willing to make whatever sacrifices love demanded.

All too soon, the feature had ended and the lights came back on. “That was great,” Carley announced.

Caught up in wistful memories, Noelle got to her feet, gathering her coat and purse. She took pains not to glance below, although her curiosity was almost overwhelming.

“We meet again,” an all-too-familiar voice said from behind her.

“Thom?” She turned to see him two rows back, with a four-or five-year-old boy at his side.

Noelle’s reaction was instantaneous. She looked below and discovered the blonde beauty with her male friend, who just happened not to be Thom Sutton. “I thought—”

“You’re Thom?” Carley asked, glowering with righteous indignation.

“Don’t tell me you’re Carley,” he returned, ignoring the girl’s outrage. “My goodness, you’ve grown into a regular beauty.”

Carley’s anger died a quick death. “Do you really think so?”

“I sure do. Oh, this is my nephew Cameron.”

“Hello, Cameron,” Noelle said. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, but the best part was when the man came up and told you not to throw any more popcorn. Uncle Thom said you got in trouble.” The kid sounded far too smug for Noelle’s liking.

So Thom had heard and seen the whole thing.

Oh, great.

Friday morning, Sarah dressed for her Christmas basket shopping adventure. She felt as though she was suiting up for an ordeal, some test or rite of passage. The hordes of shoppers were definitely going to try her patience; she’d finished her own shopping months ago and failed to see why people waited until the very last week. Well, the sooner she purchased the things on her half of the list, the better. With Christmas only five days away, she didn’t have a minute to waste.

She wasn’t getting any help from her family—not that she’d really expected it. Jake was at work, and Noelle was driving Carley to her friend’s house and then meeting Kristen for lunch.

She was on her own.

Wanting to get the most for her buying dollar, Sarah drove to the biggest discount store in Rose. The Value-X parking lot was already filled. After driving around repeatedly, she finally found a space. She locked her car and hunched her shoulders against the wind as she hurried toward the building. The sound of the Salvation Army bell-ringer guided her to the front entrance. She paused long enough to stick a dollar bill in his bucket, then walked into the store.

Sarah grabbed a cart and used the booster seat to prop up her purse. The list was in the side pocket of her bag, and she searched for the paper as she walked. She hadn’t gone more than a few feet from the entrance when she nearly collided with another woman obtaining a cart.

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically. “I—” The words froze on her lips.

“I should’ve known anyone that rude must be you,” Mary Sutton muttered sarcastically.

Although her heart was pounding, Sarah made a relatively dignified escape and steered the cart around Mary. With purpose filling every step, she pushed her cart toward the toy department. Her list was gifts, which meant Mary had the grocery half. Hmph. It didn’t surprise her that Mary Sutton bought her family’s Christmas gifts at a discount store—or that she waited until the last minute.

The first part of the list directed her to purchase gifts for two girls, ages six and seven. The younger girl had requested a doll. Having raised three daughters, Sarah knew that every little girl loved Barbie. This late in the season, she’d be fortunate to find the current Barbie.

Almost right away she saw that the supplies were depleted, just as she’d suspected. But one lone Firefighter Barbie stood on the once-crowded shelf. Sarah reached for it at the precise moment someone else did.

“I believe I was first,” she insisted. Far be it from her to allow some other person to deprive a poor little girl longing for a Barbie on Christmas morning.

“I believe you’re wrong.”

Mary Sutton. Sarah glared at her with such intensity that Mary must have realized she was not about to be dissuaded.

“Fine,” Mary said after a moment and released her death grip on the Barbie.

“Thank you.” Sarah could be gracious when called upon.

With her nose so high in the air she was in danger of hitting a light fixture, Mary stomped off in the opposite direction. Feeling satisfied with herself, Sarah studied the list again and noticed the name of a three-year-old boy. A small riding toy would do nicely, she decided and headed for that section of the department.

As she turned the corner she ran into Mary Sutton a third time. Mary stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowed. “Are you following me?” she demanded.

“Following you?” Sarah faked a short, derisive laugh. “You’ve got to be joking. I have no desire to be within ten feet of you.”

“Then I suggest you vacate this aisle.”

“You can’t tell me where to shop or in what aisle!”

“Wanna bet?” Mary leaned forward and, intentionally or not, her cart rammed Sarah’s.

Refusing to allow such an outrage to go unanswered, Sarah retaliated by banging her cart into Mary’s.

Mary pulled back and hit her again, harder this time.

Soon they were throwing stuffed French poodles at each other, hurling them off the shelves. A German shepherd sailed over Sarah’s head. That was when she reached for the golden retriever, the largest of the stuffed animals.

“Ladies, ladies.” A man in a red jacket hurried toward them, his arms outstretched. His name badge read Michael and identified him as the store manager.

“I’m so sorry, Michael,” Sarah said, pretending to recognize him. “This little, uh, misunderstanding got completely out of hand.”

“You’re telling me!” Mary yelled.

“This woman is following me.”

“Oh, puh-leeze.” Mary groaned audibly. “This woman followed me.”

“I don’t think it’s important to know who followed whom,” the manager said in a conciliatory voice. “But we need to—”

“She took the last Barbie,” Mary broke in, pointing an accusing finger at Sarah. “I got it first—the doll was mine. Any jury in the land would rule in my favor. But I kindly offered it to her.”

“Kindly, nothing. I had that Barbie and you know it!”

“Ladies, please…” The manager stood between them in an effort to keep them apart.

“There’s only so much of this I can take,” Mary said, sounding close to tears. “I’m here—”

“It isn’t important why you’re here,” Sarah interrupted. She wasn’t about to let Mary Sutton come off looking like the injured party. The woman had purposely rammed her cart. “She assaulted me.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“You should check the front of my cart for damage, and if there is any, I suggest that you, as manager, charge this woman,” Sarah said.

Two security officers arrived then, dressed in blue uniforms.

“Officer, officer…”

Mary turned soft and gentle. “Thank you for coming.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Sarah muttered. “Is it within your power to arrest this woman?” she demanded.

“Ladies,” the manager said, trying once more, it seemed, to appeal to their better natures. “This is the season of goodwill toward men—and women. Would it be possible for you to apologize to each other and go about your business?”

Mary crossed her arms and looked away.

Sarah gestured toward the other woman as if to say Mary’s action spoke for itself. “I believe you have your answer.”

“Then you leave me no choice,” the manager said. “Officers, please escort these two ladies from the store.”

“What?” Mary cried.

“I beg your pardon?” Sarah said, hands on hips. “What is this about?”

The larger of the two security guards answered. “You’re being kicked out of the store.”

Sarah’s mouth fell open.

The only person more shocked was Mary Sutton. “You’re evicting me from Value-X?”

“You heard the manager, lady,” the second officer said. “Now, come this way.”

“Could I pay for the Barbie doll first?” Sarah asked, clutching the package to her chest. “It’s for a little girl and it’s all she wants for Christmas.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you threw the first poodle,” the manager said.

“But—”

Dramatically, he pointed toward the front doors. “Out.”

Mortified to the marrow of her bones, Sarah turned, taking her cart with her. One wheel was now loose and it squeaked and squealed. Just when she figured things couldn’t get any worse, she discovered that a crowd had gathered in the aisle to witness her humiliation.

“Merry Christmas,” she said with as much bravado as she could manage.

The officer at her side raised his hand. “We’re asking that everyone return to their shopping. What happened here is over.”

With her dignity intact but her pride in shreds, Sarah made her way to the parking lot, still accompanied by the officer.

She could see the “About Town” headline already. Manager Expels Sarah McDowell From Value-X After Cat Fight. Although technically, she supposed, it should be Dog Fight.

She had no doubt that Mary Sutton would use the power of the press to complete her embarrassment.




NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 19

11:30 p.m.

I can’t believe it! Even now, when it’s long past time for bed, I’m wide-awake and so furious, any chance of falling asleep is impossible. I doubt if anyone could do a better job of looking like a world-class idiot. Right there in the theater, with my little sister at my side, I behaved like a juvenile.

I’ve worked hard to be a positive influence on Carley. I take my role as oldest sister very seriously. Then I go and pull a stunt like this. Adding insult to injury is the fact that I then had to face Thom, knowing he was completely aware of what a fool I’d made of myself.

Speaking of Thom…no, I don’t want to think about him. First the airplane and now this! I’d sincerely hoped he’d be married with a passel of kids. I wanted him to be so completely out of the picture that I’d never need to think about him again. Instead—just my luck—he’s single, eligible and drop-dead handsome. Life can be brutally unfair.

One good thing that came from all this is the long conversation I had with Carley after the movie. She’s young and idealistic, much the same way I was at her age. We talked some more about Mom and Mrs. Sutton. It’s really a very sad feud. I told her what good friends our two families used to be. The telling brought up a lot of memories. At one time, our families did everything together.

Thom was the first boy ever to kiss me. We were both sixteen. Wow! I still remember how good it felt. I don’t remember what movie was playing and I doubt Thom does, either. That kiss was really something, even though we had no idea what we were doing. There was a purity to it, an innocence. His lips stayed on mine for mere seconds, but somehow we knew. I certainly did, and I thought Thom did, too.

It’s funny how much it hurts to think about the way he deceived me. I try not to dwell on it. But I can’t help myself, especially now….




Three (#ud848ac89-8f8c-5364-acc4-ca5f4e97b7b7)


“I’ve never been so humiliated in my life!” Thom’s mother sagged into the chair across from his desk as if she were experiencing a fainting spell. The back of her hand went to her forehead and she closed her eyes. “I’ll never be able to look those people in the eye again,” she wailed. “Never!”

“Mother, I’m sure no one recognized you,” Thom said, hoping to calm her down before she caused a second scene by retelling the first. He hadn’t really appreciated his mother’s flair for drama until now. This was quite a performance, and he could only imagine the show she’d put on at the store.

“Of course I was recognized,” Mary insisted, springing to life. “My picture’s right there by my news column each and every week. Why, I could be fired from the newspaper once the editor gets wind of this.” She swooned again and slumped back in the chair. “Where’s your father, anyway? He should’ve known something like this was bound to happen. It seems every time I need him, he’s conveniently in court.” Greg Sutton was the senior partner in a local law firm.

Thom managed to hold back a smile. As far as he was concerned, his father possessed impeccable timing. Unfortunately, that meant his mother had sought solace from him.

“I’ll sue Sarah McDowell,” his mother said, as if she’d suddenly come to that decision. “Assault and besmirching my reputation and…and—”

“Mother,” Thom pleaded. He stood and leaned forward, his hands on the edge of his desk. “Take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm down.” Dragging a lawyer—most likely someone from his father’s firm—into the middle of this feud would only complicate things.

“Do you believe it’s remotely possible to calm down after this kind of humiliation?”

Perhaps she was right. “Why don’t I take you to lunch and we can talk about it,” Thom suggested. It was the Friday before Christmas and he could spare the time.

“The Rose Garden?” His mother raised pleading eyes to him. The Rose Garden was the most elegant dining room in town.

“If you like.” It was more a “ladies who lunch” kind of place, but if that was what it took to make his mother listen to reason, then he’d go there.

“At least the day won’t be completely ruined,” she mumbled, opening her purse. “Let me put on some lipstick and I’ll be ready to go.” She took out her compact and gasped when she saw her reflection in the mirror.

“What?” Thom asked.

“My hair.” Her fingers worked feverishly to repair the damage. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Mainly because he hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise from the moment she’d stormed into his office. At first, Thom had assumed she’d been in some kind of accident. His mother had spoken so fast it was hard to understand what she was saying—other than the fact that she’d been kicked out of the Value-X because of Sarah McDowell.

“This must have happened when she hurled a French poodle at me.”

“Mrs. McDowell threw a dog at you?” He gazed at her in horror.

“A stuffed one,” she qualified. “It hit me on the head.” Her hand went back to her hair, which she’d more or less managed to straighten.

Thom could picture the scene—two grown women acting like five-year-olds fighting in a schoolyard. Once again, he struggled to hide his amusement. His mother had tried to give him the impression that she was an innocent victim in all this, but he strongly suspected she’d played an equal role.

“I think I might be getting a bruise on my cheek,” she said, peering closely into the small compact mirror. She lowered it and angled her face for him to get a better look.

“I don’t see anything,” he told her.

“Look harder,” she said.

To appease her, he did but saw nothing. “Sorry,” he said and reached for his overcoat. “Ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving,” his mother told him. “You know how hungry I get when I’m angry.”

He didn’t, and felt this was information he could live without. The Rose Garden was only a block from his office, so they decided to walk. His mother chattered the whole way, reliving the incident and her outrage all over again, embellishing it in the retelling. Thom listened politely and wondered what Noelle would think when she heard her mother’s version of the incident. He quickly pulled himself up. He didn’t want to think about Noelle; that was something his self-esteem could do without.

As he’d expected, The Rose Garden bustled with activity. Christmas was only a few days away, and shoppers taking a welcome lunch break now filled the restaurant. Thom glanced about the room as they were waiting to be seated. He recognized a few associates, who acknowledged him with nods. Two women sitting by the window gave him an appreciative glance and he warmed to the attention. That was when he caught sight of another pair of women.

Noelle and her younger sister, Kristen. Wouldn’t you know it? He nearly groaned aloud. He hadn’t seen or heard from her in ten years and yet in the last three days she seemed to turn up every place he went.

This wasn’t good. In fact, if his mother were to see them, she might very well consider it her duty to create a scene and walk out of the restaurant. Worse yet, she might find it necessary to make some loud and slanderous comment about their mother. Staring in their direction was a dead giveaway, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop. Noelle. The years had matured her beauty. He’d been in love with her as a teenager and she’d become the greatest source of pain in his life. For a long time, he’d convinced himself that he hated her. Eventually he’d realized it wasn’t true. If anything, he was as strongly drawn to her now as he had been back then. More so, and he detested his own weakness. The woman had damn near destroyed him. In spite of that, he couldn’t look away.

“I can seat you now,” the hostess said.

Thom hesitated.

“Thom,” his mother said, nudging him, “we can be seated now.”

“Yes, sorry.” He could only hope it wouldn’t be anywhere close to Noelle.

The hostess escorted them to a table by the window. He pulled out his mother’s chair, making sure her back was to Noelle and Kristen. Unfortunately, that meant he was facing them. Kristen had her back to him, which left him with an excellent view of Noelle. She apparently noticed him for the first time because her fork froze halfway to her mouth. For the longest moment, she stared at him, then caught herself and averted her eyes.

“Do you see someone you know, dear?” his mother asked, scrutinizing the menu.

“Yes…no,” he corrected. He lifted the rather large menu and pretended to read over the offerings. The strategy of entertaining his mother in order to get her mind off the events of that morning was about to backfire.

In the years since Noelle, Thom had been in several relationships, two of which had grown serious. Both times he’d come close to suggesting marriage and then panicked. It was little wonder after what Noelle had done to him, but he couldn’t blame her entirely.

When the moment came to make a commitment, he couldn’t. He simply couldn’t. And he knew why—although the reason baffled and frustrated him. He didn’t love either Caroline or Brenda with the same intensity he’d loved Noelle. Perhaps it was impossible to recapture the emotional passion of that youthful episode; he didn’t know. What he did know was that the feelings he’d had for other women hadn’t been enough. He’d found them attractive, enjoyed their company…but he needed more than that.

He needed what he’d had with Noelle.

As he thought about the scene at the theater, he started to grin. It couldn’t have worked out better had he planned it. Just thinking about her tossing popcorn at some poor, unsuspecting moviegoer’s head was enough to keep him laughing for years. He’d listened in while she talked about their mothers—and about them. But the most priceless part of all was the astonished look on her face when she’d realized he was sitting right behind her and had heard every word.

“What is so amusing?” his mother asked.

“Oh, I was just thinking about something that happened recently.”

“What? Trust me, after the morning I’ve had, I could use a good laugh.”

Thom shook his head. “It’ll lose something in the translation.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, then sighed. “I do feel better. This was an excellent idea.”

The waitress came by and his mother ordered a glass of wine. “For my nerves,” she explained to the woman. “Ordinarily I don’t drink during the day, but…well, suffice it to say I’ve had a very difficult morning.”

“I understand,” the waitress told her in a sympathetic voice. She glanced at Thom and gave him a small coy smile.

“What a nice young woman,” his mother commented as the waitress walked off.

“I suppose so,” he said with little interest. He looked up, straight into Noelle’s steady gaze.

“Perhaps now isn’t the right moment to broach the subject, but both your father and I think it’s time you considered settling down.”

She was right; the timing could be better. However, a little appeasement seemed in order. “I’ve been thinking the same thing myself,” he said, forcing himself to focus on his mother.

“Really?” Her face lit up. “Is there someone special?” “Not yet.” Involuntarily he stared at Noelle again. As if against her will, her eyes met his and held. Then she looked away—but she quickly looked back.

Kristen turned around and glanced at him over her shoulder.

“Did you know Kristen McDowell is getting married?” his mother said.

Thom nearly choked on his glass of water. “Now that you mention it, I remember hearing something about that.” It also explained why his mother had brought up the subject of his settling down. She didn’t want Sarah McDowell to outdo her in the married children department.

“Now,” his mother said, eagerly leaning forward, “tell me about your lady friend.”

“What lady friend?”

“The one you’re going to propose to.”

“Propose?” He’d only proposed to one woman, the one watching him from two tables away. “I told you already—I’m not seeing anyone.”

“You were never able to keep a secret from me, Thomas. I’m your mother.”

He stared at her blankly, not knowing how to respond. “What makes you think I’ve met someone?”

“It isn’t think, Thom, I know. I told your father, too. Ask him if you don’t believe me. I noticed it the day you came home from your business trip to California. It was the sparkle in your eyes.”

“California?” Thom tried to recall the trip. It had been a quick one, and strictly business. But on the return flight, he’d bumped into Noelle McDowell.

Noelle got home after lunch with Kristen to discover her mother sitting in the family room, stocking feet propped up on the ottoman. She leaned back against the sofa cushion and held an icepack to her forehead.

“Mom?” Noelle whispered. “Are you ill?”

“Thank goodness someone’s finally home,” her mother said, lowering the bag of ice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Never in all your life could you guess the kind of morning I had.” She clutched Noelle’s arm as she spoke.

“What happened?”

Sarah closed her eyes. “I can’t even tell you about it. I have never been more humiliated.”

“Does this have something to do with Mrs. Sutton?”

Her mother’s eyes sprang open in sheer terror. “You heard about it? Who told you?”

“Ah…”

“She’s going to report it in the newspaper, I just know she is. I wouldn’t put it past her to use her news column to smear my good name. It was her fault, you know. She followed me, and then purposely rammed her cart into mine. And that was only the beginning.”

An ugly picture began to take shape in Noelle’s mind. A Sutton/McDowell confrontation would explain the fierce looks Thom had sent her way during lunch. The fact that he’d showed up at The Rose Garden—with his mother in tow—was a coincidence she could have done without.

Kristen had invited her to lunch, and then after a few minutes of small talk, her sister had immediately turned to the subject that happened to be on Noelle’s mind: Thom Sutton. Noelle had described the disaster at the movies the day before and reluctantly confessed her part. To her consternation, Kristen had thought the incident downright hilarious. Noelle, however, had yet to recover from the embarrassment of knowing that Thom had seen her resort to such childish behavior.

Now their mother had been involved in another confrontation with Mary Sutton. If her present state of mind was anything to go by, Sarah had come out of it badly. Judging by what Noelle had seen of Mrs. Sutton at the restaurant, she wasn’t the least bit disturbed.

“The police took down our names and—”

“The police?”

“Value-X Security, but they wear those cute blue uniforms and look just like regular policemen.”

“They took your names? What for?”

Her mother covered her face with both hands. “I can’t talk about it.”

The door off the garage opened and in walked Noelle’s father. “Dad,” she said, hoping to prepare him. “Something happened to Mom this morning.”

“Oh, Jake…” Her mother languished in her seat as though she lacked the energy to even lift her head.

“Sarah?”

“Apparently Mom and Mrs. Sutton tangled with security at the Value-X this morning.”

“We more than tangled,” her mother insisted, her voice rising, “we were…banished. The officer who escorted me out told me I won’t be allowed inside the store for three months.” She bit her lip and swallowed a loud sob. “I don’t know if I misunderstood him, but I think I might be permanently banned from all blue-light specials.”

“No!” Her father feigned outrage.

“Jake, this is serious.”

“Of course it is,” he agreed. “I take it this is Mary’s doing?”

Her mother’s fist hit the sofa arm. “I swear to you she started it!”

“You don’t need to tell me what happened,” Jake said. “I can guess.”

So could Noelle.

“From here on out, I absolutely refuse to be in the same room as that woman.” She sat straighter, jaw firm, head back. “For years I’ve had to deal with her…her malice, and I won’t put up with it anymore!”

Jake reached for Sarah’s hand and gently patted it. “You’re absolutely right—you shouldn’t.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you mean? Are you being sarcastic?”

“Of course not, dear,” he said reassuringly. “But there’s no need to rehash old history, is there?”

“No-o-o.” Noelle heard her mother’s hesitation.

“Not going to the Christmas dance will show Mary Sutton that she won’t have you to kick around anymore.”

As far as Noelle was concerned, missing the Century Club Christmas dance was far from a tragedy. The only reason she’d agreed to attend was to placate her mother. This mysterious incident at the Value-X was a blessing in disguise; it seemed her father saw it in the same light. She just hoped he hadn’t overplayed his hand with that last ringing pronouncement.

“Who said anything about not going to the dance?” her mother demanded.

“You did.” Her father turned to Noelle for agreement, which she offered with a solemn nod.

“Yes, Mom, you just said you won’t be in the same room with that woman ever again.”

“I did?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Noelle’s father said. “And I agree wholeheartedly. Missing the dance is a small price to pay if it means protecting your peace of mind.”

“We aren’t going to the dance?” Carley asked, entering the room. She looked disappointed, but then Noelle’s little sister was too young to understand what a lucky escape she’d just had.

“No,” Jake said. “We’re going to skip the dance this year, and perhaps every year from now on. We won’t let Mary Sutton hurt your mother’s feelings or her reputation again!”

“We’re going,” her mother insisted.

“But sweetheart—”

“You’re absolutely right, Jake, Mary Sutton’s done enough to me. I refuse to allow her to ruin my Christmas—and Noelle’s birthday—too. We’re going to show up at the dance and hold our heads high. We have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But…” Her father cleared his throat. “What if Mary mentions the incident at the Value-X?” He lowered his voice, sounding as though that would be a horrible embarrassment to them all. Noelle had to give her father credit; he was good at this.

“She won’t say a word,” her mother said with complete confidence. “Mary wouldn’t dare bring up the subject, seeing that she was tossed out on her ear, right along with me.”

Her resolve clearly renewed, Sarah stood and placed her hands on her hips. Nothing would thwart her now. “We’re attending the dance tomorrow night, and that’s all there is to it.”

Her father made a small protesting noise that echoed Noelle’s sentiments. She was stuck going to this dance when it was the very last thing she wanted.

Dressed in a floor-length pink formal that had once been worn by Kristen in high school, Noelle felt like last year’s prom queen. Her enthusiasm for this dance was on a par with filing her income tax return.

“You look positively lovely,” her mother told her as they headed out the door.

How Noelle looked had little to do with how she felt. Her father brought the car out of the garage and held open the doors for Noelle and Carley, then helped their mother into the front seat beside him.

“How did I get so lucky—escorting three beautiful women to the biggest dance of the year?”

“Clean living,” Noelle’s mother said with authority. “And a clear conscience.” Noelle didn’t know whether to laugh at that remark or shrug in bewilderment. Leaning forward in order to look out the front window, Sarah added, “I think it’s going to snow.”

Hearing “Jingle Bells” on the car radio, Noelle suspected her mother was being influenced by the words of the song.

“We’re more prone to ice storms than snow this time of year,” her father said mildly.

Noelle had forgotten about the treacherous storms, although she’d experienced a number of them during the years she’d lived in Rose. They created astonishing beauty—and terrible dangers.

“Kristen and Jonathan are meeting us at the dance, aren’t they?” Carley asked.

“That’s what she said,” Noelle answered. Carley was dressed in a full-length pale blue dress with cap sleeves and she wore matching low-heeled shoes. She looked lovely and so mature it was all Noelle could do not to cry. Her baby sister was growing up.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” her mother asked, lowering her voice.

“Mrs. Sutton’s probably asking the same thing about you,” Noelle said.

Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll say one thing about Mary Sutton—she never did lack nerve.”

The Century Club was festive, with Christmas music and evergreen swags and large red bows. The ballroom was on the second floor, the cloakroom, a bar and buffet on the first. Couples lingered on the wide staircase, chatting and sipping champagne.

Noelle glanced toward the upstairs, and her stomach tensed. Thom was there. She didn’t need to see him to feel his presence. Why did he have to show up everywhere she did? Was this some kind of cosmic joke?

“Kristen!” her mother called. “Yoo hoo!” Anyone might think it’d been weeks since she’d last spoken to her daughter. “Hello, Jonathan.” She hugged her soon-to-be son-in-law.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” Kristen paused in front of Carley, feigning shock. “This isn’t my little sister, is it? It can’t be.”

Carley rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Of course it’s me. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Shall we go upstairs?” her mother suggested.

Noelle recognized the order disguised as a request. They were to mount the stairs on guard, as a family, in case they ran into the dreaded Mary Sutton.

Kristen cozied up to Noelle. “He’s here,” she whispered in her ear.

“I know.”

“Who told you?”

“No one.” She couldn’t explain how she’d recognized Thom’s presence. She just did. Like it or not.

The ballroom was crowded, and although this wasn’t the kind of social activity Noelle would have attended on her own, she couldn’t help getting caught up in the spirit of the evening. A six-piece orchestra was playing a waltz, the chandeliers glittered and she saw that it had indeed begun to snow; flakes drifted gently past the dark windows. On the polished dance floor, the women in their long shimmery gowns whirled around in the arms of their dashing partners. The scene reminded her of a Victorian Christmas card.

“Would you care to dance?” Jonathan asked.

Surprised, Noelle nodded. She’d only spoken once or twice to this man who was marrying her sister, and was anxious to know him better. “Thank you. That would be very nice.”

Just as Noelle and Jonathan stepped onto the dance floor, Kristen’s gaze met her fiancé’s. Noelle could have sworn some unspoken message passed between them. She didn’t have time to question her sister before Jonathan loosely wrapped her in his arms.

“I assume you heard what happened at the Value-X store,” she said, searching for a subject of conversation.

“Did you have as much trouble not laughing as I did?”

“More,” Noelle confessed with a grin.

“I’ve done business with the Suttons. They’re good people.”

“This feud between our mothers is ridiculous.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kristen, who was dancing, too—her partner none other than Thom Sutton. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, especially when she noticed that Kristen was steering Thom in her direction. Noelle marveled at her sister’s courage in asking Thom to dance with her. And of course she had. Thom would never have sought Kristen out, especially for a dance in the Women’s Century Club Ballroom with both mothers present.

The two couples made their way toward the center of the polished floor. When they were side by side, Jonathan stopped.

“I believe you’re dancing with the wrong partner,” he said.

Noelle didn’t need to look over her shoulder to guess Jonathan was speaking to Thom.

“I believe you’re with the wrong woman,” Noelle heard Kristen tell her partner.

Jonathan released Noelle, and Kristen stepped out of Thom’s embrace and sailed into her fiancé’s waiting arms, leaving Thom and Noelle standing alone in the middle of the crowded dance floor.

Slowly, dread dictating every move, Noelle turned and came face-to-face with Thom. He didn’t look any happier than she felt at this sudden turn of events. “I didn’t plan this,” she said in clear, even tones.

His expression implied that he didn’t consider her comment worthy of a response.

“Are you two going to dance or are you just going to stand there and stare at each other all night?” Jonathan asked.

Thom shrugged, implying that he could do this if he had to. Reluctantly Noelle stepped into his arms. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Actually, she hadn’t expected to feel anything, certainly not this immediate deluge of emotion. He kept her at arm’s length and gazed into the distance.

To Noelle’s horror, tears filled her eyes as all the old feelings came flooding back. She was about to turn and walk off the dance floor when his fingers dug into her upper arms.

“You’re not running away from me again.”

“Me?” she cried, furious at the accusation.

“Yes, you.”

His words made no sense, she thought grimly, but said nothing. The dance would be over soon and she could leave him behind. Or try to. Kristen would answer for this.

No, she decided, she had only herself to blame. Over lunch, Noelle had confided in her sister. Kristen, being idealistic and in love, had plotted to bring Noelle and Thom back together. She didn’t understand that reconciliation wasn’t always possible.

“I’d like to ask you a question,” she said when she could tolerate the silence no longer.

“Fine.”

“Why’d you do it? Did you want revenge for your mother so badly it was worth using me to get it?”

He stopped dancing and frowned at her. “What?”

“You heard me.” She couldn’t keep the pain out of her voice.

He continued to frown, as if he still didn’t understand the question.

“Don’t give me that injured look,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Too many years have passed for me to be taken in by that.”

“You were the one who stood me up.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a mocking laugh. “After I made an idiot of myself in front of my parents, too. That must’ve given you a real kick.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Thom, I waited in that park for two miserable hours and you didn’t show.”

Not an inch separated them now as his icy glare cut into her. Dancing couples swirled around them, but Noelle was barely conscious of anyone else. For all she knew or cared, they were alone on the dance floor.

“I waited hours for you, too.”

His lying to her now was almost more than she could stand. “I beg to differ,” she said stiffly.

“Noelle, listen to me! I was there.”

“You most certainly were not.” Then, to prove that she wasn’t going to accept a lie, no matter how convenient, she added, “You think I just waited around? I was sure something had gone wrong, sure there was some misunderstanding, so I phoned your home.”

“I wasn’t there because I was waiting for you!”

He persisted with the lie and that irritated her even more.

“You were gone, all right,” she said, spitting out the words. “You were with your buddies bowling.”

His eyes narrowed and he began to speak.

But the music stopped just then, which was all the excuse Noelle needed to get away from him. He reached for her hand and pulled her back. “We need to talk.”

“No. It happened years ago. Some things are better left alone.”

“Not this time,” he insisted, unwilling to budge.

“What do you hope to accomplish by going through all of this now? It’s too late.” They’d gain nothing more than the pain of opening old wounds. Any discussion was futile. It’d been a mistake to let herself get drawn into this silly drama—just one very big mistake.

“I’m not hoping to accomplish one damn thing,” he told her coldly.

“I didn’t think so.”

Thom released her hand. “Just a minute,” he said as she turned from him.

Noelle hesitated.

“I was there. I stood there for two hours and waited. You were the one who never showed.”

“That’s not true!”

They stood glowering at each other, both refusing to give in. Noelle wasn’t going to let him lie his way out of this, though—not after what his deception had cost her.

“Hey, you two, this is Christmas,” someone called out.

The voice ended Noelle’s resolve. Whatever had happened in the past didn’t matter anymore. Certainly not after all these years.

“If you find comfort in believing a lie, then do so,” he said, “but don’t involve me.” He walked away, his face hard and impassive.

Left alone in the middle of the dance floor, Noelle stared at him in amazement. Of all the nerve! He’d stopped her from leaving and now he’d taken off!

Picking up her skirt, she raced after him. “All right! You want to talk this out, then we will.”

“When?” He continued walking, tossing the question over his shoulder.

With Christmas so close, her time was booked solid. “I…soon.”

“Tonight.”

“All right.” She swallowed hard. “When and where?”

“After the dance. In the park, same place as before.”

That seemed fitting, since it was where they were originally going to meet the day they’d planned to elope.

“What time is the dance over?”

“Midnight.” He glanced at his watch. “So make it one.”

“I’ll be there.”

He shot her a look. “That was what you said the last time.”




NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 21

5:00 p.m.

Everyone’s getting ready for the big dance, but my head’s still spinning and I’ve learned that it helps me sort through my emotions if I write everything down. I ran into Thom again. It’s as though we’re being drawn together, as though we’re trapped in some magnetic field and are being pulled toward each other from opposite directions. I can tell he doesn’t like it any better than I do.

It happened yesterday when I met Kristen for lunch at The Rose Garden. No sooner had our order arrived when in walked Thom and his mother.

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He apparently suffered from the same malady. Every time I glanced up, he was staring at me—and frowning. His mother was with him and I could see that he was trying to keep her distracted so she wouldn’t notice Kristen and me. I didn’t completely understand why until we arrived home and discovered that Mom and Mrs. Sutton had had another run-in while shopping for the Christmas baskets. That must have been something to see, although I’m grateful I didn’t!

After we left the restaurant, Kristen and I had a long talk about Thom. I told her far more than I meant to. I don’t think I’ve thought or talked this much about Thom in years, and I found myself experiencing all those pathetic emotions all over again. Kristen confessed that she’s been hurt and upset with me for staying away, and now that I’m home, I can understand her disappointment. It’s ironic, because after I told her how devastated I was when Thom and I broke up, she said she could understand why I’d stayed away. She even said she’d probably have done the same thing.

When I got back to the house, Mom was in quite a state. For a moment I thought she might have talked herself out of attending the dance, but our hopes were quickly dashed. Dad and I should’ve realized Mom has far too much pride to let Mary Sutton get the upper hand.

This Christmas-basket project is driving her nuts, but Mom’s determined to make Kristen’s wedding one this town will long remember, and she’s willing to make whatever sacrifice is necessary. I do admire her determination.

It’s time to get ready for the dance. Wouldn’t you know it? Mom came up with a dress, and just as Carley predicted, it’s pink. Pepto-Bismol pink. I can only hope Thom doesn’t show up, but at the rate my luck is running…




Four (#ud848ac89-8f8c-5364-acc4-ca5f4e97b7b7)


The rest of the Christmas dance passed in a blur for Noelle. She danced with a constant stream of attractive men. She greeted longtime family friends and socialized the evening away, but not once did she stop thinking about Thom. They were finally going to settle this. Only she wasn’t a naive eighteen-year-old anymore and she wouldn’t allow his lies to go unchallenged. Thom claimed he’d been waiting for her in the park, but she knew otherwise.

At the end of the evening, the families trooped down the wide sweeping staircase. Noelle, Carley and their mother waited while Jake stood in line to collect their coats. No more than three feet away from them was Mary Sutton, who also appeared to be waiting for her coat. Noelle had to hand it to the woman; she did a marvelous job of pretending not to see them.

“Good evening, Mrs. Sutton,” Noelle greeted her, refusing to ignore Thom’s mother.

Sarah’s onetime friend opened and then closed her mouth, as if she didn’t know how to respond.

“Noelle.” Her mother elbowed her sharply in the ribs. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing. I’m greeting an old family friend.”

“Former friend,” her mother insisted. “We haven’t been friends in almost twenty years.”

“But you once were.”

Her mother sighed wearily. “I was younger then, and I didn’t have the discretion I have now. You see, back then I took friendship at face value. I trusted in goodwill and forgiveness.”

“Hello, Noelle,” Mary Sutton said, moving closer. “I, too, was once young and I, too, believed in the power of friendship. But I was taught a painful lesson when the woman I assumed was my dearest friend lied and deceived me and entrusted a priceless family heirloom to another. But that was a very long time ago. Tell me,” she said, turning a cold shoulder to Noelle’s mother. “How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Her mother clasped Carley’s arm and stepped back as though to protect her youngest daughter.

“You’re looking lovely,” Thom’s mother said, and her eyes were kind.

“Thank you,” Noelle said, although she could feel her mother’s gaze burning into her back.

Mary Sutton lowered her voice. “I couldn’t help overhearing your mother’s comments just now about friendship. I probably should’ve stayed out of it—but I couldn’t.”

“It’s so sad that the two of you have allowed this nonsense to go on for all these years.”

“Let me assure you, my grandmother’s tea service is not nonsense. It was all I had to remind me of her. Your mother lied to me about using it, and then lost it forever.” Her downcast eyes clearly said that the loss of her grandmother’s legacy still caused her pain. “You’re right, though. It’s unfortunate this has dragged on as long as it has.”

That sounded encouraging, and Noelle was ready to leap on what she considered a gesture of peace.

“However,” Mrs. Sutton continued, “there are certain things no friendship can overcome, and I fear your mother has crossed that line too many times to count. Regrettably, our friendship is unsalvageable.”

“But—”

“Another thing,” Mrs. Sutton said, cutting Noelle off. “I saw you dancing with Thom this evening. You two were once sweet on each other, but you hurt him badly. I hope for both your sakes that you’re not thinking of renewing your acquaintance.”

“I…I…” Noelle faltered, not knowing how to answer.

Noelle’s mother stepped forward. “I suggest your son stay away from our daughter.”

“Mom, keep out of this, please,” Noelle cried, afraid of what would happen if the two women started in on each other—particularly after the Value-X incident. This was the town’s biggest social event of the year, and a scene was the last thing either family needed.

Mr. Sutton returned with the coats, and Noelle’s father followed shortly afterward. The McDowells headed immediately for the parking lot, careful to avoid any and all Suttons. Everyone was silent on the drive home, but Noelle knew she’d upset her mother.

Fifteen minutes later as they walked into the house, she decided she should be the one to compromise. “Mom, I wish now that I hadn’t spoken to Mrs. Sutton,” she said quietly. And she meant it; she should have restricted her remarks to “Hello” and maybe “Merry Christmas.”

“I do, too,” her mother said. “I know your intentions were good, but it’s best to leave things as they are. I tried for a long time to make up with her, but she refused to accept a replacement set and she refused my apology.” Sadness crept into her voice. “Mary did make one good point, though.”

Noelle mentally reviewed the conversation.

“She said it’s a good idea for you to stay away from Thom, and she’s right.” She sighed, then briefly placed her palm against Noelle’s cheek. Her eyes were warm with love. “The two of you have a history you can’t escape.”

“Mom, it isn’t like that. We—”

“Sweetheart, listen please. I know you once had strong feelings for that young man, and it hurt me deeply.”

“It hurt you?”

Her mother nodded. “Very much so, because I knew you’d be forced to make a choice between your family and Thom. I couldn’t bear the thought of you married to him or sharing my grandchildren with Mary Sutton. You saw for yourself how she feels about me. There’s no forgiveness in her. Really, is this the kind of woman you want in your life and the lives of your children? That’s the history I mean.” She kissed Noelle on the cheek and headed down the hallway to her room. “Good night now.”

Noelle shut her eyes and sagged against the wall. She’d been just a moment away from explaining that she was going to meet Thom in order to talk things out. Her mother sounded as though she’d consider it a personal affront if Noelle so much as looked at him. It was like high school all over again.

The only thing left to do now was sneak out the same way she had as a teenager. She couldn’t leave him waiting in the cold, that was unthinkable. Besides, this might be her one and only chance to sort out what had really happened, and she wasn’t going to throw it away. She didn’t intend any disrespect toward her mother or his, but she had to be there. If she didn’t show up, she’d confirm every negative belief he already had about her.

Carley was in bed asleep as Noelle passed her room. She went in to drop a kiss on her sister’s forehead, then softly closed the door. Noelle changed out of her party dress, choosing wool slacks and a thick sweater to wear to the park. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she waited for the minutes to tick past. With luck, her parents would be exhausted and both go directly to bed. Then Noelle could slip away undetected.

Finally the house was dark and quiet. The only illumination came from the flashing Christmas lights that decorated the roofline.

Opening her bedroom door, Noelle was horrified by the way it creaked. On tiptoe, she carefully, silently crept down the narrow corridor.

“Jake.” Her mother was instantly awake. “I heard something.”

“Go to sleep, honey.”

“There’s someone in the house,” her mother insisted.

Noelle froze. She could hardly breathe. Just imagining what her mother would say was enough to paralyze her.

“Jake, I’m serious.”

“I don’t hear anything,” her father mumbled.

“I did. We could all be murdered in our beds.”

“Sarah, for the love of heaven.”

“Think of the children.”

Noelle nearly groaned aloud. She was trapped. She’d have to pass her parents’ bedroom in order to steal back into her own. They were sure to see her. She couldn’t go forward and she couldn’t go back.

“All right, all right,” her father muttered as he climbed out of bed.

“Take something with you,” her mother hissed.

“Like what?”

“Here, take a wooden hanger.”

“So I can hang him out to dry if I happen on a burglar?”

“Just do it, Jake.”

“Yes, dear.”

Noelle had made it safely into the kitchen by the time her father came upon her. “Dad,” she whispered, hiding in the shadows, “it’s me.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” he whispered back.

“I couldn’t. I’m sneaking out of the house.”

“This late? Where are you going?”

He wouldn’t like the answer, but she refused to lie. “I’m meeting Thom Sutton in the park. We’re going to talk.”

Her father didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then it sounded as if he was weeping.

Noelle felt dreadful. “Dad? I’m sorry if this upsets you.”

“Upsets me?” he repeated. “I think it’s hilarious.”

“You…do?”

“Go ahead and meet your young man and talk all you want. This thing is between Sarah and Mary. Greg and I have been friends for years.”

This was news to Noelle. “You’re still friends?”

“Of course. He’s the best golfing partner I ever had.”

“You and Mr. Sutton are golf partners?” Noelle thought perhaps she’d slipped into another dimension.

“Shhh.” Her father raised a finger to his lips. “Your mother doesn’t know.”

“Mom doesn’t know.” This was more unbelievable by the moment.

“Scoot,” her father ordered, and reaching for the keys on the peg outside the garage door, he said, “Here, take my car. It’s parked on the street.”

Noelle clutched the set of keys and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

He coughed loudly as she opened the back door. “You’re hearing things, Sarah,” he called out. “There’s nothing.” He gave her a small wave and turned back toward the hallway.

As soon as she was out the door, Noelle sprinted toward her dad’s car. It took her a moment to figure out which key she needed and then another to adjust the mirror and the seat. When she glanced at her watch, she was shocked to see the time. It was already ten minutes past one.

Thom would assume she wasn’t coming. He’d think she’d stood him up…when nothing could be further from the truth.

Thom expelled his breath into the cold, and it came out looking like the snort of a cartoon bull. An angry cartoon bull. That was exactly how he felt. Once again, he’d allowed his heart to rule his head and he’d fallen prey to Noelle McDowell.

He should have known better. Everything he’d learned about heartache, Noelle had taught him. And now, fool that he was, he’d set himself up to be taken again. Noelle McDowell was untrustworthy. He knew it and yet he’d still risked disappointment and worse.

Slapping his hands against his upper arms to ward off the cold, he paced the area beneath the trees across from the pool at Lions’ Park. This had been their special meeting place. It was here that Thom had kissed Noelle for the second time. Here, they’d met and talked and shared their secrets. Here, he’d first confessed his love.

A car door slammed in the distance. Probably the police coming to check out his vehicle, which was parked in a lot that was closed to the public at this time of night. He deserved to get a ticket for being enough of an idiot to trust Noelle.

He didn’t know why he’d hung around as long as he had. Looking at his watch he saw that it was twenty after one. She’d kept him waiting nineteen minutes too long. Her nonappearance was all the proof he’d ever need.

“Thom…Thom!” Noelle called out as she ran across the lawn.

Angry and defiant, he stepped out from beneath the shadow of the fifty-foot cedar tree.

“Thank goodness you’re still here,” she cried and to her credit, she did sound relieved. She was breathless when she reached him. “I had to sneak out of the house.”

“Sneak out? You’re almost thirty years old!”

“I know, I know. Listen, I’m so sorry.” She pushed back the sleeve of her coat and squinted at her watch. “You waited—I can’t believe you stayed for twenty extra minutes. I prayed you would, but I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d left.”

The anger that had burned in him moments earlier evaporated so fast it shocked him.

“When did they turn Walnut into a dead-end street?”

“Years ago.” Of course she’d drive down the same street they’d used as teenagers. He’d forgotten the changes made over the last decade; it hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t know. “You’re here now.”

“Yes…listen, I know I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t help myself.” Having said that, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him hard. His own arms went around her, too, tentatively and then with greater strength.

Closing his eyes and savoring the feel of her was a mistake, the first of many he knew he’d be making. She smelled like Christmas, somehow, and her warmth wrapped itself around him.

“Why’d you do that?” he asked gruffly as she released him and took a step back. He was trying to hide how damn good it’d felt to hold her.

“It’s the only way I could think of to thank you for staying, for believing in me enough to wait.”

“I wasn’t exactly enumerating your good points while I stood here freezing.”

“I know, I wouldn’t either—I mean, well, you know what I mean.”

He did.

Clearing off a space on the picnic table, Noelle climbed up and sat there just as she had when they were teenagers. “All right,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. “Let’s talk. Since you were the one to suggest we do this, you should go first.”

So she’d become a take-charge sort of woman. That didn’t surprise him. She’d displayed leadership qualities in high school, as well, serving on the student council and as president of the French Club. “All right, that’s fair enough.” She might be able to sit, but Thom couldn’t. He had ten years of anger stored inside and that made it impossible to stand still for long. “We argued, remember?”

“Of course I do. The argument had to do with our mothers. You said something derogatory about mine and I defended her.”

“As I recall, you had a less-than-flattering attitude toward my mother.”

“But you were the first…” She paused. “None of that’s important now. What we should be discussing is what happened afterward.”

Once again she was right. “We made up, or so I thought.”

“We made up because we refused to allow the ongoing feud between our mothers to come between us. Later that day, you wrote me a note and suggested we elope.”

Her voice caught just a little. He wanted so badly to believe her. It was a struggle not to. “I loved you, Noelle.”

She smiled, but he saw pain in her eyes and it shook him. For years he’d assumed that she’d used his love against him. That she’d stood him up just to hurt him. To humiliate him. He’d never really understood why. Was it vindication on behalf of her mother?

“We were going to confront our parents, remember?” Noelle said.

“Yes. I made a big stand, claiming how much I loved you and how I refused to let either of our mothers interfere in our lives. You should’ve heard me.”

“I did, too!” she declared. “I spilled out my guts to them. Can you imagine how humiliating it was to have to go back and confess that you’d tricked me—that you’d jilted me?”

“Me!” he shouted. “You were the one—”

Noelle held up both hands and he let his anger fade. “Something happened. It must have.” She pressed one hand to her heart. “I swear by all I consider holy that I’ve never lied to you.”

“You’re assuming I did?” he challenged.

“Yes. I mean no,” she cried, confused now. “Something did happen, but what?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I was here at three, just like I wrote you in the note.”

She frowned, and he wondered if she was going to try to tell him she hadn’t gotten his note. He knew otherwise because he’d personally seen Kristen hand it to her at school.

“The note said eight.”

“Three,” he insisted. Now it was his turn to look perplexed. “I wrote down three o’clock.”

“The note said…” She brought her hand to her mouth. “No, I refuse to believe it.”

“You think Kristen changed the time?”

“She wouldn’t do that.” She shook her head. “I know my sister, and she’d never hurt me like that.”

“How do you explain the discrepancy then?”

“I have no idea.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I remember it vividly. You’d sent it to me after your math class.”

His defenses were down. Time rolled back, and the events of that day were starting to focus in his mind. The fog of his pain dissipated. Finally he was able to look at the events with a clear head and an analytical eye.

“Kristen spilled soda on it,” Noelle said thoughtfully. “Do you think that might have smudged the number?”

“It might explain part of it—but not the nasty note you left on my windshield.”

She had the grace to blush at the reminder. “After waiting until after ten o’clock, I didn’t know what to do. It was pretty dark by then, and I couldn’t believe you’d just abandon me. I was positive something must’ve happened, so I phoned your house.”

He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“Your father said you were out with your friends bowling. I went to the alley to see for myself.” Her voice tightened. “Sure enough, you were in there, boozing it up with your buddies.”

“Don’t tell me you actually thought I was having a good time?”

“Looked like it to me.”

“Noelle, I was practically crying in my beer. I felt…I felt as if I’d just learned about some tragedy that was going to change my whole life.”

“Why didn’t you call me? How could you believe I’d stand you up? If you loved me as much as you said, wouldn’t you make some effort to find out what happened?”

“I did.” To be fair, it’d taken him a day, but he had to know, had to discover how he could’ve been so mistaken about Noelle. “I waited until the following afternoon. Your mother answered the phone and said I’d already done enough damage. She hung up on me.”

“She never told me,” Noelle whispered. “She never said a word.”

“Why would she?” Thom murmured. “Your mother assumed I’d done you wrong, just the way everyone else in your family did.”

“I left that horrible note on your car and you still phoned me?”

He nodded.

“I can only imagine what you must have thought.”

“And you,” he said.

They both grew quiet.

“I’m so sorry, Thom,” she finally said. “So very sorry.”

“So am I.” He was afraid to touch her, afraid of what would happen if she came into his arms.

Noelle brushed the hair back from her face and when he glanced at her, he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

“It all worked out for the best, though, don’t you think?” he asked. He had to say something.

She nodded. Then after a moment she spoke in a voice so low he had to lean closer to hear. “Do you really believe that?”

“No.” He reached for her then, crushing her in his arms, lifting her from the picnic table and holding her as if his very life depended on keeping her close to his heart.

His mouth found hers, and her lips were moist and soft, her body melting against his. Their kisses were filled with hunger and passion, with mingled joy and discovery. This sense of rightness was what had been missing from every relationship he’d had since his breakup with Noelle. Nothing had felt right with any other woman. He loved Noelle. He’d always loved her.

She buried her face in his shoulder and he kissed the top of her head. Her arms circled his neck and he ran his fingers through her hair, gathering it in his hands as he closed his eyes and let his emotions run free—from anger to joy. From joy to fear. From fear to relief.

“What happens now?” he asked. They didn’t seem to have many options. Each had made a life without the other.

She didn’t answer him for a long time, but he knew she’d heard the question.

“Noelle,” he said as she raised her head. “What do we do now?”

She blinked back tears. “Do we have to decide this minute? Can’t you just kiss me again?”

He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. “I think that could be arranged.”

Fresh from Sunday services—where she’d been inspired by a sermon on giving—Mary Sutton drove to the local Walmart store. She refused to show up the following day and not have the items on her list. No doubt Sarah McDowell assumed she’d arrive at the club empty-handed, but Mary fully intended to prove otherwise.

As soon as Greg had settled in front of the television set watching the Seahawks’ play-off game, she was out the door. Shopping this close to Christmas went against every dictate of common sense. Usually she was the organized one. Christmas gifts had been purchased, wrapped and tucked away soon after Thanksgiving. But, with these six Christmas baskets, she had no choice. She had to resort to last-minute shopping.

The parking lot at Walmart was packed. Finding a space at the very rear of the lot, Mary trudged toward the busy store. She dreaded dealing with the mob of shoppers inside. On the off-chance she might have a repeat of that horrible scene in Value-X, she surveyed the lot—looking up one row and down the next—in search of Sarah’s vehicle. She sighed with relief when she didn’t see the other woman’s car.

List in hand, Mary grabbed a cart and headed straight for the toy section. She hoped the store would have Barbie dolls left on the shelf. She hated the thought of a single child being disappointed on Christmas morning. Fortunately, the shelves appeared to have been recently restocked.

Reaching for a Firefighter Barbie doll, she set it inside her basket. With a sense of accomplishment, she wheeled the cart around the corner to the riding toys. To her horror and dismay, she discovered Sarah McDowell reading the label on a toddler-sized car. This was her worst nightmare.

“No,” she muttered, not realizing Sarah would hear her.

Her bitterest enemy turned and their eyes locked. “What are you doing here?” Sarah demanded.

“The same thing you are.”

Sarah gripped her cart with both hands, as if she was prepared to engage in a second ramming session. Frankly, Mary had suffered all the humiliation she could stand and had no desire to go a second round.

“Can’t you buy your grandson’s gifts some other time?”

“How dare you tell me when I can or cannot shop.” Mary couldn’t believe the gall. She would shop when and where she pleased without any guidance from the likes of Sarah McDowell.

“Mary, hello.”

Mary wanted to groan out loud. Janice Newhouse, the pastor’s wife, was easing her cart toward them. “This must be Sarah McDowell. I’ve seen your photo on a real estate brochure.” She smiled warmly at the woman who had caused Mary so much pain. “I’m Janice Newhouse.”

“Hello.” Sarah’s return greeting was stiff.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Janice said, apparently oblivious to the tension between the two women.

“I’ll just bet you have.” Sarah said this as though to suggest that Mary was a gossipmonger, when nothing could be further from the truth. For years, she’d quietly refused to get drawn into any discussion involving Sarah. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. The same could not be said for Sarah McDowell. She’d taken delight in blackballing Mary’s membership in the Women’s Century Club. She’d dragged Mary’s name and reputation through the mud. Mary, on the other hand, had chosen the higher ground—with the exception, perhaps, of that newspaper column on the perfidy of real estate agents, and that certainly hadn’t been a personal attack.

“I understand the Willis family bought their home through you,” Janice said, making polite conversation.

“You know the Willises?”

“Yes, they’re members of our church. So are Mary and her husband.”

Sarah’s expression was glacial. “Oh.”

“Sarah and I are buying gifts for the charity baskets,” Mary said.

“We divided the list and now we’re each getting half,” Sarah went on to explain. “Tomorrow we’re assembling the baskets and taking them to Salvation Army headquarters.”

That was much more than Janice needed to know, Mary thought irritably. Sarah was just showing off.

“That’s wonderfully charitable of you both,” Janice murmured.

“Thank you.” Sarah added a pull toy to her basket.

Mary reached for one herself.

Next Sarah took down a board game; Mary took two.

Sarah grabbed a skateboard.

“How generous you are,” Janice commented, eyes widening as she observed their behavior. “Both of you appear to be very…zealous.”

“I believe in giving back to the community,” Mary said.

“As do I,” Sarah insisted. By now her cart was so full she couldn’t possibly cram anything else into it.

“Leave something for me to buy,” Mary challenged, doing her best to keep the smile on her face from turning into a scowl.

“I’m the one who has the little girl who wants a Firefighter Barbie on my list,” Sarah said, staring pointedly at the doll in Mary’s cart.

“I’m the one with the gift list,” Mary countered. “Besides, there are plenty of Barbie dolls.”

“You aren’t even supposed to be buying toys. That was my job.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed menacingly.

“Ladies, I don’t think there’s any reason to squabble here.” Janice raised both hands in a calming gesture. “Let me look at your lists.”

“Fine,” Sarah snapped.

“Good idea,” Mary added in a far more congenial tone. She opened her purse and dug out the list Melody Darrington had given her.

Janice examined both pages. She ran down Sarah’s first and then Mary’s. She frowned. “Here’s the problem,” she said, handing them back. “You have the same list.”

“That’s impossible,” Mary protested.

“Let me see.” Sarah snatched Mary’s from her hand with such speed it was a wonder Mary didn’t suffer a paper cut.

“That’s what I think happened,” Janice said. “You were accidentally given one list instead of two.”

Sarah glanced over each page. “She’s right.”

Mary wanted to weep with frustration. “Do you mean to say we’re actually working from the same list?” It made sense now that she thought about it. Melody had been so busy that morning. and the phone was ringing off the hook. It was no wonder the secretary had been distracted.

“You were supposed to pick up the grocery items,” Mary said.

“I most certainly was not. That was your job.”

If Sarah was trying to be obtuse and irritating, she was succeeding.

Janice glanced from one to the other. “Ladies, this is for the Christmas baskets, remember?”

Mary smiled benevolently at the pastor’s wife, who was new to the area. Janice couldn’t know. But then, a twenty-year-old feud wasn’t something Mary was inclined to brag about.

“She’s right,” Sarah said again. “We’re both behaving a bit childishly, don’t you think?”

Mary was staying away from that question.

“I’ll call Melody in the morning and pick up the second half of the list.”

“No, you won’t,” Mary told her. “I’ll do it.”

“I said I would,” Sarah said from between clenched teeth.

“You don’t need to, I will.”

“Would you ladies prefer that I do it?” Janice volunteered.

“No way,” Sarah muttered.

“Thank you, but no,” Mary said more politely.

Janice looked doubtful. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” Sarah’s voice blended with Mary’s.

“All right, ladies, I’ll leave you to your good works then.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Mary watched Janice stroll away.

As soon as the pastor’s wife was out of earshot, Sarah said, “You can pick up the list if you want.” She made it sound as though she was making a big concession.

Naturally, she’d agree now. Mary sighed; this problem with the list complicated everything. “I’ll need time to shop for the groceries.”

“And your point is?”

“Shouldn’t it be obvious?” Clearly it wasn’t. “We’ll need to meet on the morning of the twenty-fourth now.”

“Christmas Eve?”

“Yes, the twenty-fourth is generally known as Christmas Eve,” Mary told her a bit sarcastically.

“Fine. Let’s meet at the club at nine and deliver the baskets to the Salvation Army from there.”

“Fine.”

“In the meantime,” Sarah suggested, “let’s do the sensible thing and divide up the toys on this list. Why don’t I get the girls’ stuff and you get the boys’?”

Wordlessly, they each returned half of their purchases. Mary hated to follow Sarah’s lead, but for once the woman had come up with a reasonable idea. “I’ll see you Tuesday morning at nine,” she finally said.

Sarah gave a curt nod.

Mary wheeled her cart to the front of the store. All the cashiers were busy, so she found the shortest line and waited her turn. Not until a few moments later did she notice that Sarah stood in the line beside hers.

Mary took a magazine from the stand, leafed through it and tossed it into her cart.

Sarah placed two magazines in hers.

Mary decided to splurge and buy a candy bar. As she put it in the cart, she glanced at Sarah. The other woman grabbed one of every candy bar on the rack. Refusing to be outdone, Mary reached for two.

Sarah rolled her eyes and then emptied the entire container of candy into her cart.

Mary looked over and saw two men staring at them. A woman was whispering to her companion, pointing in her and Sarah’s direction.

Once again, they’d managed to make spectacles of themselves.




NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL


December 22

I just got back from church, and it was lovely to attend services with Mom and Dad and Carley. The music was stirring and brought back so many memories of Christmases spent in Rose. I wish I’d paid closer attention to the sermon, but my mind refused to remain focused on the pastor’s message. All I could think about was Thom.

Now that we’ve talked, I think we’ve actually created more problems than we’ve solved. We’re going to get together again later in the day, but that’s not until one. We both realize we can’t leave things as they are, yet neither one of us knows where to go from here.

Still, it’s wonderful to know my faith in him was justified. That makes this decision even harder, though. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with him again—if I ever stopped!—but there are so many complications. In fact, I wonder if our best choice would be simply to call it quits. But I’m not sure we can, because we made a mistake last night. We kissed.

If we hadn’t done that, I might’ve found the courage to shake Thom’s hand, claim there were no hard feelings and walk away. But we did kiss and now…well, now we’re in a quandary. I wish his kisses didn’t affect me, but they do. Big time. Oh boy, nothing’s changed in that department. It’s as if I was sixteen all over again, and frankly, that’s a scary feeling.

I felt Thom’s kisses all the way through me, from head to toe. Thom felt them, too, and I think he’s just as confused as I am. Things got intense very quickly, and we both recognized we had to stop. Now it’s decision time.

Thom withdrew from me, physically and emotionally, and I did from him, too. We both tried to play it cool—as if this was all very nice and it was good to clear the air. He acted as if we should just get on with our lives. I played along and was halfway back to the car when he stopped me. He wanted to know if we could meet at the mall today to talk again.

God help me, I jumped at the invitation. Maybe I should’ve been more nonchalant, but I couldn’t do it. I was just happy for the chance to see him again.




Five (#ulink_eb1a54a1-ce44-52e5-b056-a0cec8f8cc17)


Shopping was the perfect excuse to get out of the house on Sunday afternoon, and Noelle used it. Her mother was gone, her father was absorbed in some televised football game and Carley was in her room checking “Buffy” websites on her computer.

“I’m going out for a while,” Noelle said casually.

Her father’s eyes didn’t waver from the television screen. “Are you meeting Thom?”

“Ah…”

Her father raised his hand. “Say no more. What do you want me to tell your mother if she asks?”

“That I’ve gone shopping…We’re meeting at the mall.”

“That’s all she needs to know.”

Noelle kissed her father on the cheek. His eyes didn’t leave the screen as he reached inside his pants pocket and handed her his car keys. “Why don’t you take my car again?”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then her father did look away from the television and his gaze sought hers. “You have feelings for this young man?”

Noelle nodded. It was the truth, much as she hated to acknowledge it, even to herself.

Her father nodded, too. “I was afraid of that.”

His words lingered in Noelle’s mind as she drove to the Rose Mall on the west side of town. She’d lived for this moment ever since she and Thom had parted the night before. They’d resolved what both had considered a deception, but so many questions were still unanswered. They needed time to think, to consider the consequences of becoming involved a second time. Nothing had changed between their families—or more specifically, their mothers—but other things were different. Noelle wasn’t the naive eighteen-year-old she’d been ten years ago; neither was Thom.




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