On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (12 page)

“Melody's also the one who assigned me to that project,” she went on. “There had to be dozens of other proj
ects I could've done. Plus, she insisted I had to fulfill those hours this year. That makes no sense whatsoever.”

“Why would Melody do anything like that?”

“How would I know?”

Her husband looked skeptical. “I think you might be jumping to conclusions here.”

“Melody gave us half of the same list, too.” Outrage simmered just below the surface as Sarah sorted through the facts. She tossed aside the covers and leaped out of bed. Hands on hips, she glared at her husband. Of course. It all added up. Melody definitely had a role in this, and Sarah didn't like it.

“Hey, I didn't do anything,” Jake protested.

“I'm not saying you did.” Still not satisfied, she started pacing the area at the foot of the bed. “This is the lowest, dirtiest trick anyone's every played on me.”

“Now, Sarah, you don't have any real proof.”

“Of course I do! Why did Melody make a copy of that list, anyway? All she had to do was divide it.”

“Sounds like an honest mistake to me. Didn't you tell me the office was hectic that morning? Melody was dealing with you, the phones and everything else when she gave you and Mary the lists.”

“Yes, but that's no excuse for what happened.”

“You're angrier with yourself than Melody.”

Sarah knew the truth when she heard it. The outrage vanished as quickly as it had come, and she climbed back into bed, next to her husband.

For a long time neither spoke. Finally Jake turned on their bedside radio and they listened to “Silent Night” sung by a children's choir. Their pure, sweet voices almost brought tears to Sarah's eyes.

“In two days, it'll be Christmas,” she said in a soft voice.

“And Noelle's birthday.” Her husband smiled. “Remember our first year? We could barely afford a Christmas tree, let alone gifts. Yet you managed to give me the most incredible present of all, our Noelle.”

“Remember the next Christmas, when I'd just found out I was pregnant with Kristen?” she said fondly. “Our gift to each other was a second-hand washer.” In the early years of their marriage, they'd struggled to make ends meet. Yet in many ways, those had been the very best.

Jake smiled. “We were poor as church mice.”

“But happy.”

“Very happy,” he agreed, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “I thought it was clever of you to knit Christmas stockings for the girls the year Noelle turned four. Or was it five?”

“I didn't knit them,” Sarah said sadly. “Mary did.”

“Mary?”

“Don't you remember? She knit all the kids stockings, and I baked the cookies and we exchanged?”

“Ah, yes. You two had quite a barter system worked out.”

“If we hadn't traded baby-sitting, none of us would've been able to afford an evening out.” Once a month, they'd taken the girls over to their dearest friends' home for the night; Mary and Greg had done the same. It'd been a lifesaver in those early years. She and Jake had never been able to afford anything elaborate, but a night out, just the two of them, had been heaven. Mary and Greg had cherished their nights, as well.

“I miss her,” Sarah admitted. “Even after all these years, I miss my friend.”

“I know.” Jake gently squeezed her shoulder.

“I'd give anything never to have borrowed the silver tea service.”

“You were trying to help someone out.”

“That's how it started, but I should've been honest with Mary. I should've told her the tea service wasn't for my open house, but for Cheryl's.”

“Why didn't you?”

She'd had years to think about the answer to that question. “Because Mary didn't like Cheryl. I assumed she was jealous. Now…I don't know.”

Sarah remembered the circumstances well. She'd recently begun selling real estate and Cheryl Carlson had given her suggestions and advice. Cheryl had wanted something to enhance the look of the dining room for her open house, and Sarah had volunteered to bring in the tea service. When she'd asked Mary, her friend had hesitated, but then agreed. Sarah had let Mary assume it was for her own open house.

“You were so upset when you found out the tea service had been stolen.”

To this day her stomach knotted at the memory of having to face Mary and confess what had happened. Soon afterward, Cheryl had left the agency and hired on with another firm, and Sarah had lost touch with her.

“I'd always hoped that one day Mary would find it in her heart to forgive me.”

“I did, too.”

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart,” Sarah whispered, resting her head against her husband's shoulder.

“Why are you apologizing to me?”

“Because you and Greg used to be good friends, too.”

“Oh.”

“Remember how you used to golf together.”

“Yes.”

“I wonder if Greg still plays.”

“I see him out at the club every now and then,” Jake told her.

“Does he speak to you?”

“Yes.”

Sarah was comforted knowing that. “I'm glad.”

“So am I,” her husband said, then kissed her goodnight.

 

On December twenty-third, Thom's office was running on a skeleton crew. His secretary was in for half a day and he immediately handed her the assignment of locating every antique store in a hundred-mile radius.

He'd called his father before eight that morning. “Tell me what you know about Mom's old tea service.”

“Tell you what I know?” he repeated. “It was stolen, remember?”

“I realize that,” Thom said impatiently.

“What makes you ask?”

“I thought I'd buy her a replacement for Christmas.”

“Don't you think you're leaving your shopping a little late?”

“Could be.” Thom didn't feel comfortable sharing what this was really about, but he was going to do whatever he could to replace that damn tea service.

“I think we might have a picture of it somewhere.”

Thom perked up.

“For years your mother looked for a replacement, you know. We hadn't actually taken a picture of the tea set, but it was in the background of another photograph.”

Thom remembered now. His parents had the photo enlarged in order to get as much detail as possible.

“Do you still have the photograph? Or better yet, the enlargement?”

“I think it might be around here somewhere. I assume you need this ASAP.”

“You got it.”

“Well, I promised to drive your mother out to the Women's Century Club this morning and then to the grocery store. You're welcome to stop by the house and look.”

“Where do you figure it might be?”

His father considered that for a moment. “Maybe the bottom drawer of my desk. There are a few old photographs there. That's my best suggestion.”

“Anyplace else I should look?”

“Your mother's briefcase. Every once in a while she visits an antique store, but for the most part she's given up hope. She's still got her name in with several of the bigger places. If anything even vaguely similar comes in, the stores promised to give her a call.”

“Has she gotten many calls?”

“Only two in all these years,” his father told him. “Both of them excited her so much she could barely sleep until she'd checked them out. They turned out to be completely the wrong style.”

Thom didn't know if he'd have any better success, but he had to try.

“Good luck, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

As soon as he hung up, Thom called Noelle's cell phone. She answered right away.

“Morning,” he said, warming to the sound of her voice. “I hope you're free to do a bit of investigating.”

“I am. I canceled out on Mom—told her I was meeting an old friend.”

“Did she ask any questions?”

“No, but I could tell she was disappointed. I do so hope we're successful.”

“Me, too. Listen, I've got news.” Thom told her about the old photograph and what his father had said earlier. He hoped it would encourage Noelle, but she seemed disheartened when she spoke again.

“If your parents searched all these years, what are the chances of us finding a replacement now?”

“We'll just keep working on it. I'm not giving up, and I'm guessing you feel the same way.”

“I do—of course.”

“Good. How soon before we can meet?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“I'll wait for you at my parents' place.”

On his way out the door, Thom grabbed the list Martha, his secretary, had compiled and when he read it over, he knew why he paid this woman top dollar. Not only had she given him the name and address of every store in the entire state, she'd also listed their Web sites and any other Internet information.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, then gave her the rest of the day off with pay.

Noelle was already parked outside his parents' house when Thom arrived. She got out of her car and joined him as he pulled into the driveway.

“Hi,” she said softly.

Thom leaned over and kissed her. “Hi.” The key to the house was under a decorative rock. He unlocked the door and turned off the burglar alarm. Holding Noelle's hand, he led her into his parents' home.

Noelle stopped in the entryway and glanced around. It'd been many, many years since she'd walked into this house. It wasn't really familiar—everything had been redecorated and repainted since she was a little girl—but the place had a comfortable relaxed feel. Big furniture dominated the living room, hand-knit stockings hung on the fireplace and the mantel was decorated with holly. The scent of the fresh Christmas tree filled the air.

“Your mother has a wonderful eye for color and design,” she commented, taking in the bright red bows on the tree and all the red ornaments.

Still holding her hand, Thom led her into his father's den. The oak rolltop desk sat in the corner, and Thom immediately started searching through the bottom drawer. He found the stack of photographs his father had mentioned and sorted through them with Noelle looking over his shoulder. She leaned against him, and he wondered if she realized how good it felt to have her pressed so close to him. Or how tempting it was to turn and kiss her…

“That's it,” she cried triumphantly when he flipped past a black-and-white picture. She grabbed it before he had a chance to take a second look. Examining the print, she murmured, “It really was exquisite, wasn't it?” She passed it back to him.

“It
is
beautiful,” he said, emphasizing the present tense. Thom wasn't sure why he insisted on being this optimistic about finding a replacement. He suspected that wanting it so badly had a lot to do with it.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out the list Martha had compiled for him.

“Now that we have a picture,” Noelle said, “I'll go home and scan it into Carley's computer. Then I'll send it out to these addresses and see what comes back.”

“Great. But before you do, I'll get a copy of this photograph and start contacting local dealers. They might be able to steer me in a different direction.”

“Oh, Thom, it'd mean so much to me if we could bring our mothers back together.”

They kissed, and it would've been the easiest thing in the world to become immersed in the wonder of having found each other again. Her mouth was warm, soft to the touch. She enticed him, fulfilled him and tempted him beyond any woman he'd ever known or loved. He didn't know much about her present life. They'd spoken very little of their accomplishments, their friends, their jobs. It wasn't necessary. Thom
knew
her. The girl he'd loved in
high school had matured into a capable, beautiful and very desirable adult.

“It's hard to think about anything else when you kiss me,” she whispered.

“It is for me, too.”

Before leaving the Sutton home, Thom put everything back as it was, and remembered to reset the burglar alarm.

After making a photocopy at his office, Thom gave her the original, thinking that would scan best.

“I'll go back to the house now and plead with Carley to let me on the computer,” she told him.

“Okay, and I'll see what a little old-fashioned footwork turns up.”

Noelle started to get into her car, then paused. “What'll happen if we don't find a replacement before I return to Texas?”

Thom didn't want to think about that yet. “I don't know,” he had to admit.