Holly Lane (29 page)

Sophie, however, hadn’t spotted Adam—she had eyes only for the big shaggy caribou twenty feet away out in the snowy yard. When she finally got over her shock enough to start toward the edge of the porch, Sue Ann had the wherewithal to grab onto her little shoulder, pulling her back to say, “Wait.” Then she reached inside for the kid-size snow boots that had last been left on a small rug by the back door. And as Sophie struggled to step hurriedly into them in already soaking wet socks, Sue Ann grabbed her daughter’s old play jacket from a hook inside, along with an old pair of gym shoes for herself.

When Sophie began to approach the reindeer, Adam looked to Sue Ann again, giving her a slight nod, silently indicating that it was safe, and indeed, even as she stepped right up to it, the reindeer stayed still, and Sue Ann could have sworn the animal’s gentle eyes locked with her daughter’s awestruck ones.

“Careful,” Sue Ann called anyway as Sophie reached up to softly pet the deer’s neck. But—oh God—it was quite a sight, and in reality, Sue Ann experienced no fear at all; the moment was that perfect.

“Untie the ribbon on the bag,” Sue Ann said when she sensed the reindeer eyeing the grain Sophie still held. “Then hold some in your hand, flat. Like when we fed them at the zoo, remember?”

Sophie looked back, nodding, and Sue Ann allowed herself to dash back into the house, quickly, just long enough to get her camera.

It was clear to see how Sophie delighted in feeding and petting “Dancer” for a few long and wonderful minutes, occasionally whispering something to the deer that Sue Ann couldn’t hear but found heartrending anyway. And when the reindeer food was all gone, Sophie looked up at Sue Ann on the porch, wearing a great big smile, and exclaimed, “This is the best Christmas ever!”

Sue Ann swallowed the lump in her throat, still trying not to cry. Oh Lord. Adam had done the impossible—he’d taken what could have been Sophie’s worst Christmas and turned it into her best. Talk about Christmas miracles. The reindeer visit—appearing to come straight from Santa—had seemingly wiped away the sadness of not having a normal Christmas with her father there.

So Sue Ann watched for another few minutes, continuing to take pictures, as Sophie spent time with her new friend—and then finally, when she was chilled to the bone and felt certain both Sophie and Adam were, too—she called, “You should say goodbye and come back inside, honey. Remember, the note said he could only stay a few minutes, so I’m sure it’s time for him to go.”

At this reminder, Sophie looked sad and Sue Ann realized her daughter hadn’t even noticed the cold—but still Sophie said, “Okay,” and turned back to “Dancer,” this time actually giving him a hug. Sue Ann bit her lip at the utter poignancy of it, then flicked her gaze back to Adam, still crouched in the shrubbery. And what she saw in his eyes as they met hers . . . oh God, that nearly made her weep, too.

He still wanted her. And he cared about her. And his heart was breaking, too. She knew all that, knew it to the marrow of her bones, just from the expression on his handsome, unshaven face right now—it was all there, nothing held back. Funny, she hadn’t really thought much about that part of it before—his part. She’d thought of her own fears, her own anger, her own emotions—yet she hadn’t much considered his.

But that doesn’t change anything.
It doesn’t make you any safer, any more secure.
You have to protect yourself.

“Bye, Dancer,” she heard Sophie saying, and shifted her focus back to her daughter and the reindeer standing in her backyard, looking like some figment of her imagination. “Thank you for coming to see me. It’s the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll love you forever!”

The reindeer let out a slight snuffle then, as if in reply, and Sophie reached up to give him one last gentle pet, just above his nose. “Bye,” she whispered again, then began walking slowly back toward the porch, even as she looked over her shoulder at the deer, their eyes still seeming to connect.

When she climbed the steps, Sue Ann stooped down to give her a big hug, and after a moment whispered in her ear, “See, Santa came through. He didn’t let you down.”

And Sophie pulled back to smile and nod, though there were tears in her eyes now, as well.

Sue Ann gave her daughter another squeeze, then said, “Go back inside and get warmed up. I’ll be right behind you in a minute.”

Once Sophie was safely back in the house, Sue Ann ventured carefully down the snowy steps and through the yard to meet Adam, where he emerged from the bushes. His cheeks were red with cold and he looked so warm and cuddleworthy bundled in his winter coat and hat that it was hard not to give him a hug, too—but she resisted, and instead said, “Thank you. So, so much. You have no idea what this means to her.”

He gave his head a slight tilt and replied, “Actually, I think I do. That’s why I did it. I couldn’t bear the idea of you guys having a bad Christmas.”

Sue Ann just bit her lip, more touched than she could say. Then she asked the obvious. “But . . . how did you do this? How the hell did you come up with a reindeer?” She glanced over at the animal a few yards away, still a little amazed.

Adam simply slanted her a playful look and said, “Come on now—you know I have reindeer connections.”

Then he explained that he’d enlisted Sue Ann’s mom to sneak the reindeer food into Sophie’s stocking late, after they’d gone to bed, and that the man who provided the trees for his lot also raised a few reindeer on his farm. “I totally forgot about that, though, until just last night.” Then, looking over at the deer himself, he said to it, “You and me, we’ve gotten pretty close now, haven’t we?” And when Sue Ann gave him a questioning look, he said, “Truth is, I’ve spent all night with this guy.”

“Huh?” She cocked her head to one side, perplexed.

But he just shrugged. “Takes a while to get a reindeer loaded in a truck. Takes a longer while to get a reindeer
un
loaded from a truck, by myself, quietly. Thank God this guy’s gentle. And we’ve been out here a few hours now.”

She flinched, her eyes bolting open wider. “A few hours?”

“Wasn’t sure how early Sophie would get up. I mean, it’s Christmas morning. For my boys, sometimes it’s so early that it’s really the middle of the night. And I couldn’t risk not being ready.”

Sue Ann stood before him, dumbfounded, as she took in everything that meant. “You must be exhausted. And freezing.”

He offered up only another easy shrug. “I can sleep all day.”

Oh God. How sad. “On Christmas?”

He must have read her thoughts, though. “Hey, don’t worry. Turns out I’ve already had my Christmas. The boys came home early—yesterday. Got to take ’em to dinner at my parents’ place and then spent the whole evening with ’em.”

Sue Ann let out a happy gasp, truly as thrilled for him as she was for Sophie right now. “Really?”

“Yep.” A large smile spread across his handsome face. “And damn, was it ever good to see those two little rug rats.”

“I can only imagine,” she said with a smile of her own. “I’m so glad for you, so glad they were here for Christmas.”

“So—yeah, as far as Christmas is concerned, things turned out good. And I’m putting my Scroogy ways behind me once and for all.”

And then she realized he was looking at her—in a different way than he had a moment ago. Before, it had been a pleasant exchange between two parents, but suddenly, now, his expression had transformed into the one she’d seen when their eyes had met a few minutes earlier—an expression that said he still yearned for her the same way she yearned for him.

And it sort of took her breath away. Enough that she didn’t bother trying to eke out very many words—only said, perhaps too softly, “Well, good.”

As that wanting gaze of his continued to pour over her, she thought for a second he might kiss her, standing right there in her snowy backyard as she hugged her big pink robe around her. And she wondered if she’d be able to resist right now. After all, the man had made her daughter’s Christmas wish come true. And he looked good enough to eat.

But then he suddenly went a bit stiffer, standing up a little straighter, and said, “I better get this guy back in the truck.”

“Yeah, right, of course,” she murmured.

“Think you can keep Sophie from looking out the windows for a little while?”

“No problem. We’re going to make Christmas pancakes before Jeff comes to pick her up, so I’ll keep her in the kitchen until I’m sure you two are gone.”

“Sounds good,” he said, then lifted his hand toward the reindeer’s lead line, which she could now see hooked to a strong branch in the shrubbery.

“And Adam,” she said then, fending off the urge to reach out and touch his arm through his winter coat, “thank you again. This was . . . ”

He grinned. “Don’t say it was just nice.”

And a small giggle escaped her as his words drew her back to their post-sex conversations. “It was spectacular,” she said, teasing him. “Amazing. Phenomenal.”

“The earth moved,” he supplied for her.

“And I saw fireworks,” she added with a smile.

But then the humor faded and they were edging back into that nagging, gnawing desire again—only this time
she
was the one to make them move past it, returning to what he’d done for Sophie. “It really was . . . the most special thing that could have happened for her. She’ll never forget this. And neither will I.”

And still, she nearly melted in the heat from his warm brown eyes as he said, “I was glad to do it, Sue Ann. And glad . . . it made you happy.”

They stood together for another slightly-too-long moment before Adam said, “Well, I’d better get this reindeer back home. And you’d better get inside before your feet freeze off.” He motioned down toward the canvas tennis shoes she’d put on.

“Yeah,” she said. “They’re pretty cold. And I’m sure you are, too. Thanks again.”

He just nodded. And she turned to go, her heart beating far too fast, as usual lately when she was with Adam.

She only allowed herself to look back when she’d reached the porch—and when she discovered him still watching her, she raised her hand in a short wave just before rushing inside, shutting the door, and then leaning back against it.
Oh God, he’s sweet.
And hot.
And still sexy as hell, damn it.

But it’s Christmas.
Get back to Christmas.
Sophie.
Presents.
Pancakes.

She found her daughter in the living room, now hugging her stuffed reindeer tight under one arm as she sat on the floor playing with her new dollhouse. She looked more content than Sue Ann had seen her in months.

“Ready for pancakes, my girl?”

Sophie hopped to her feet with a smile, still clutching the stuffed animal. “Yeah.”

But as they headed back toward the kitchen, Sophie said, “Hey Mommy, look—I think Santa must have left something in your stocking, too.”

And, glancing over, Sue Ann realized that, indeed, her red velvet stocking bulged just a little, hanging differently than when it was empty. “Hmm,” she said, figuring perhaps her suddenly sneaky mother had decided it was a good opportunity to leave her some additional small gift while skulking around her house in the middle of the night.

“Let’s see what’s there,” she said, padding over to the fireplace. Then she reached down inside and pulled out . . . an old-fashioned glass Santa ornament, identical to the one that had been broken. As her heart swelled, she saw it had a tag attached, too, just like Sophie’s reindeer food:

Merry Christmas, Sugar Plum.

                              Love, Adam

Twenty

“He was very much attached to me.”

Charles Dickens,
A Christmas Carol

J
enny, Rachel, and Tessa were all busy with family gatherings that day, of course. But Amy, knowing Sue Ann would be at loose ends, had invited her over to her apartment above the bookstore to watch Christmas movies and nibble on holiday leftovers from a family dinner the night before.

It felt strange to be parking on the now quiet town square, preparing to climb the steps to Amy’s place on Christmas Day. Normally it was her family on Christmas Eve and Jeff’s on Christmas, where Sophie was now. And she couldn’t shake the sense that life felt a little emptier when you had nowhere you particularly needed to be on Christmas Day. Thinking of Adam at home now, sleeping through it, she almost wondered if she should call him up and invite him over, too.

But it’s just another day. You’ll get used to it. Maybe you’ll even like how low key it is.

And Adam clearly needs some sleep, so let him. You don’t need to be spending time with him anyway. Even if what he did this morning was amazingly sweet and special, you can’t let yourself be drawn in like that
. Because even if he’d turned down Jeff’s request, the fact that he hadn’t told her about that subpoena the moment he found out, when she’d felt the very closest to him no less . . . well, her trust issues with Adam were alive and well.

And it wasn’t that she thought Adam was
trying
to draw her in, only that it could happen if she didn’t keep her guard up. And somewhere along the way, self-protection had become the all-important thing here, the thing she couldn’t afford to lose sight of.

As for that antique ornament, she’d been stunned and pleased to have an exact replacement for her grandmother’s, and despite herself, was touched that he’d gone to so much trouble. She couldn’t deny that Adam seemed more than willing to go to extra effort just to make her—and her daughter—happy. But she’d tried to banish those thoughts as she’d hung the ornament on the tree—after removing the tag, of course.
Love, Adam
it had said.
Love.

But lots of people wrote
Love
on their cards and it just meant “with strong affection.” Although . . . did
guys
write it that casually?

Well, it didn’t matter—she’d made herself throw the tag in the trash with the wrapping paper Sophie had ripped off her gifts from Santa.

Of course, this meant her mother knew. Well, at least it meant she knew Adam was calling her Sugar Plum, which had probably tipped her mom off that
something
was going on. And that felt a little weird. After all, what had Adam told her? And what did her mom think about it all? Well, whatever the case, she hoped Adam had also filled her in on the fact that anything that had taken place between them was already over.

Tonight was the big annual Destiny Christmas party at town hall—a tradition Chief Tolliver had started many years ago after his wife had died when Jenny was just thirteen. The idea behind it had been to make sure everyone in town had something to do on Christmas—but now no one ever missed it. So if she didn’t talk to her mom before that, she would see her there. And she figured Adam would be there, too. But him she would just make a point of avoiding. For the sake of her heart. She’d come far too close to kissing him this morning—and God knew she’d wanted to.

A minute later, Amy was greeting her with a hug, pulling her into the apartment, and showing her the treasure trove of classic Christmas movies she possessed. And soon they were stretched out on the couch watching
It’s a Wonderful Life,
a spread of food on the coffee table before them: pumpkin pie, fudge, Amy’s buckeyes, Sue Ann’s Christmas cookies, and half a cheeseball with crackers.

It was about the time George Bailey rescued his brother Harry from the hole in the ice that the kitten, Dickens, decided Sue Ann’s shoelace would make a good toy. Amy’s beloved pet, Mr. Knightley, was already curled up with her at the other end of the sofa, but Sue Ann was surprised to see Dickens. “What’s
he
doing up here?” she asked.

And Amy just looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Well, I couldn’t very well leave him down in the store by himself on Christmas.” As if the gray kitten could read a calendar and knew it was a holiday.

Sue Ann pulled her foot away from the silly cat. “Well, he’s annoying.”

Amy just rolled her eyes. “He’s playful and a little mischievous. But that’s his charm.”

“You call this charm?” Sue Ann asked dryly, still trying to regain control of her shoe.

Finally, she just kicked her shoes off and pulled her feet up onto the couch with her. “Ha, guess I showed
you
,” she whispered triumphantly down to the kitten. Which was when he rose up and took a swipe at her fingertips where they hung over the edge of the sofa cushion. She gave him a look of warning, then pointed one narrowly missed finger at him. “You’re a troublemaker, pal.”

Dickens let out a small meow, as if defending himself—then noticed the strap of Sue Ann’s purse hanging over the arm of the sofa. Within seconds it became his newest toy, so she gathered up the strap and shoved it under the purse with a sigh. “Take that,” she whispered smartly.

And Amy said, “Shush—I’m trying to watch a movie.”

Sue Ann slanted a glance in her direction. “Yes, it’s important to hear every line of a movie you’ve seen thirty times.”

“Shhhh,” Amy said anyway.

It was when George and Mary were doing the Charleston on the edge of the pool that Dickens leapt silently up onto the couch and started walking around on Sue Ann like she was part of the furniture. She said, “Sheesh,” and set him beside her on the middle cushion.

But by the time George and Mary were singing “Buffalo Gals” on the front walk, the gray kitten found a spot to settle—right in Sue Ann’s lap—and she decided to let him stay. And that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t so bad. Maybe the little guy was actually pretty cute, even if she didn’t like to admit it.

And it was exactly when Mary said, “Welcome home, Mr. Bailey,” that Sue Ann realized she’d absently begun to pet him a little. “Hmm,” she said, glancing down.

“Hmm what?” Amy asked her, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Hmm, I guess maybe I’m starting to get what Sophie sees in this cat. A little anyway.” Then she thought out loud. “I wonder if maybe . . . I should think about taking a leap of faith.”

“What leap of faith?”

“That maybe Sophie can take care of a cat. That maybe he wouldn’t be just an expensive headache. Maybe I should reconsider.”

When Amy finally drew her attention from the screen to flash a big smile across the space between them, Sue Ann thrust a pointed finger in her direction. “But don’t get your hopes up. I still need to think about it.”

“No problem—my hopes are in check.” She still smiled, though. Then asked, “How was Sophie’s Christmas morning?” Everyone knew how concerned Sue Ann had been about that.

And while the easy answer was that it had turned out great, that reply would require a lot of explanation, which she knew Amy would dig for if she didn’t supply it, so instead Sue Ann said, “I thought you were watching a movie.”

“I am,” Amy said, reaching for the remote, “but we can pause it. I need a bathroom break anyway.” And the picture on the screen stilled, leaving the room quiet. “So, about Sophie’s Christmas. How did she take it when there wasn’t a reindeer under the tree?”

“Not very well,” Sue Ann said, realizing she’d have to tell the story whether she liked it or not. “But things got a lot better when she discovered that there
was
a reindeer in the
backyard
.”

Amy blinked. “There was a reindeer in the backyard?”

“Yep,” Sue Ann said, still a little awed by the memory. Or maybe it was the sweetness involved on Adam’s part that left her feeling overwhelmed. “Incredible but true.”

Amy just gaped at her. “Well, are you going to give me any details? I mean, I’m pretty sure a reindeer didn’t just come conveniently wandering up Holly Lane to your house on Christmas morning.”

Okay, this part would be a little tricky, but she could handle it. “Adam brought it,” she said.

“Adam brought it?” Amy asked.

“Because of how he semi-promised it to her when he was playing Santa. And of course, he
is
Sophie’s godfather.” Then she explained about him knowing a man with some reindeer. “And naturally, Sophie thought it was the best thing ever, and it really
was
pretty amazing, so . . . Adam definitely saved the day.”

“What else?” Amy asked.

“What do you mean, ‘What else?’ ”

Amy tilted her head and cast a speculative look Sue Ann recognized. “There’s more. More you’re not telling me.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Usually it was her and Jenny who knew when the other was holding something back. But with Amy . . . well, her sixth sense generally pertained to romance. Which meant that Amy somehow sensed what Sue Ann’s mom already knew—that something was up between her and Adam. Still, she fibbed, on the off chance Amy would believe her and let it go. “No there’s not.”

But letting it go was not to be. “You like Adam,” Amy concluded after a pause. “
Like
like him. Not just as a friend anymore.”

Sue Ann simply sighed, blinked. “You got that from the fact that he brought a reindeer to my yard?”

“I got that from the look in your eyes when you said it.”

Damn it. “I was trying to be nonchalant yet appreciative of his effort.”

“You failed on the first part. I mean, the delivery was okay—if we’d been on the phone, I’d have never known—but it’s your expression. And you blushed a little when you said he saved the day.”

Now Sue Ann let out a much larger sigh and said, “Don’t tell anybody, okay? Only Jenny knows. And I feel very weird about it.”

“No problem—I can keep a secret. But this has been going on awhile, hasn’t it? Because I even thought you were acting a little odd that day Rachel suggested
I
hook up with Adam.”

Sue Ann let her mouth drop open in disbelief. “God, you have an uncanny ability to recognize crap like this.”

“It’s a gift,” Amy said with a shrug. Then she leaned in closer, eyes widened and hopeful. “So does he like you back? And is it serious?”

Oh hell. Why lie at this point? Amy would eventually weasel it all out of her anyway. “Yes, he likes me back. And yes, it feels . . . horribly serious to me. And to him, too, I think. Only . . . ” She shook her head, still sad about the whole situation. “We can’t be together.”

Amy looked stunned. “Why not?”

“Because . . . it’s just so soon after my divorce. And there are trust issues. And besides, there’s so much going on for me right now—big, life-altering things.”

“Which would probably be easier to handle with the love of a good man in your life, don’t you think?”

Lord, she and Jenny both made this sound so simple. But it wasn’t. “Amy, I’ve thought long and hard about this, believe me, and I just can’t deal with it right now. I mean, I’m barely over the last man in my life, you know?”

“You’re afraid,” Amy said softly.

Hmm, funny. Sue Ann could spend all day postulating all the reasons she couldn’t be with Adam, but yeah, when she got right down to it, it was indeed as simple as that one little word. “Yes, I’m afraid,” she admitted.

Amy stayed quiet for a minute, clearly thinking this through, and reaching for a buckeye to help her. After she’d eaten it, she said, “I don’t want to discount your fears, Sue Ann. I mean, I get it, and I know you have a lot on your plate right now. But . . . ”

Sue Ann bit her lip. “But what?”

Amy met her gaze and looked suddenly, profoundly serious. “I’ve only been in love once in my life. It was a long time ago, and it didn’t last long enough.” Sue Ann remembered—Amy had had a boyfriend from another town for a couple of years after high school, and everyone had assumed they’d get married—only they didn’t. They’d broken up, and as far as Sue Ann knew, Amy hadn’t dated anyone since. It always made her sad to think about.

“You’ve been with the same guy since we were young,” Amy went on, “so maybe you don’t know this, but . . . love, real passion, doesn’t come along just every day. You went from loving Jeff right to having these feelings for Adam, yet it just as easily could have been years—or never—before you found someone you felt this way about. To pass it up because you’re afraid is . . . almost criminal. It’s a terrible waste. For both of you.”

Whoa. Sue Ann just sat there, trying to absorb everything her friend had just said. Amy was usually so upbeat, happy, fun—but right now she looked more somber than Sue Ann could remember seeing her in a very long time.

And she knew what neither of them were saying—that Amy would probably give anything to have a good man like Adam fall for her. And she wouldn’t take it for granted. She was reminding Sue Ann that she was actually pretty damn lucky to already have a great guy like Adam wanting a relationship with her.