

## BAH, HUMBUG!

### A Romantic Comedy Novella

### By Heather Horrocks

SMASHWORDS EDITION

www.Smashwords.com

PUBLISHED BY

Word Garden Press

BAH, HUMBUG! © 2011 Heather Horrocks

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. The ebook contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, or stored in or introduced into an information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art © 2011 www.istockphoto.com / TwentyFourWorks

Formatted by Bob Houston eBook Formatting

For previews of upcoming books by Heather Horrocks, to sign up for New Releases email, or for more information about the author, visit www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com.

DEDICATION

To my mother Loya and my mother-in-law Betty, who knew how to create family. I'm so glad I was part of your loving circles.

And to Mark. I'm eternally grateful to be inside yours.
CONTENTS

Book Description - Bah Humbug!

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Thank You!

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books by Heather Horrocks

Excerpt from While You Were Stranded (the first Chick Flick Clique romantic comedy

Excerpt from The Christmas Star by Diane Darcy

Book Description \-- Bah, Humbug!

Lexi Anderson is an up-and-coming, Martha Stewart-type TV hostess whose two kids love the Jared Strong adventure novels, which happen to be written by their new neighbor, Kyle Miller.

For the first time in his writing career, Kyle has writer's block--until he sees the snowman on his lawn and he realizes this is the perfect place for his villain to hide the weapon. He digs into the snowman to discover two things: the weapon fits in the body just under the head, and the snowman was supposed to be the back drop for Lexi's next show.

From this improbable beginning comes friendship. Can there be more for a woman who is afraid to get close again and a man who has shadows from his childhood?

Families join together and hearts are healed as this couple goes walking in a winter wonderland.
Chapter One

SEVEN DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Satisfied, Jared Strong watched the police haul off another crook to jail--another crook he had uncovered. He nodded to Melinda and said, "I knew it was old Mr. Sellers all the time."

Leaning against the headboard of her bed, Lexi Anderson sighed and shut the book. "We did it. We reread the third Jared Strong book, just in time to buy the new one when it comes out Tuesday."

Her two pajama-clad children leaned into her, one of each side.

Steven said, "I think it's so cool how Jared always knows who the bad guys are."

"That's because you're nine. When you're as old as I am, you'll like Melinda better," said Trista, from her ripe old age of eleven, referring to Jared's best friend and co-detective.

"I don't care what you say. I want to be a detective when I grow up. Just like Jared." And Steven snuggled back into Lexi's side and hugged her arm. "Read the last chapter again, okay?"

"Okay." She smiled as Trista tried to feign indifference.

As she reread the ending, she was filled with a sense of contentment. She was reading her childrens' favorite book in their beautiful new home.

Things hadn't always gone so smoothly. She'd had some hard knocks. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was seventeen. She'd married her boyfriend in what she now realized had been a desperate attempt to create a family around her.

Unfortunately, on his twenty-fifth birthday, her husband decided family wasn't what he wanted, and had taken off to "experience life." Neither she nor the kids had heard from him since then.

She avoided relationships because she wasn't about to lose someone else she cared about. And she supposed she was overprotective of her children, but they didn't seem to mind.

Since the divorce, she'd been forced to fight her way up from the bottom of both the financial and emotional heap. And now, well, they were doing all right. She had been called a younger, fresher version of Martha Stewart. She'd just signed a lucrative five-year contract to continue hosting her one-year-old national television show. She and the kids had more money than they could have ever imagined. Enough money that she'd been able to buy this house, their first, which nestled on a lovely lane with maple trees shaking hands above the street.

At first she'd worried about making the move from San Diego to Salt Lake City. But everything seemed perfect here. The way the kids raced through the house laughing and loving it just as much as she did. The way they all seemed to fit into this home as if they'd lived here forever.

She hoped they'd fit into the neighborhood and school, as well. The neighbors seemed friendly enough. When the moving truck pulled up yesterday morning, six neighbor guys had shown up and helped unload the truck.

There were still two bedrooms filled with boxes, but the rest of the house was unpacked and decorated for the holidays.

The house and neighborhood were perfect. Through the windows, she could see cars driving by, their lights dimmed by drivers wanting to see the decorations on what was known as Christmas Street.

Besides, the kids were excited because the Jared Strong author, Kyle Miller, lived somewhere in the Salt Lake area. Of course, that area covered small entangled towns from Bountiful down to the Point of the Mountain, so the odds of running into him were minute. But the chance of going to a local book signing had still been an attraction.

Best of all, this year the kids seemed to be doing better than ever in school. And the three of them had settled into a nice routine. They didn't need anything or anyone else in their lives. They had each other and that was enough.

Next Friday, they were going to splurge, attend the book signing at Fashion Place Mall, buy the fourth book in the Kyle Miller series, Jared Strong and the Mystery of the Haunted House on Walnut Grove, and get Kyle Miller, himself, to autograph it.

As she closed the book a second time and looked down at her children, she decided she didn't want anything in her life to change. Life was perfect, just the way it was. Safe, secure, single...and happy.

If only she weren't so nervous about starting over, this moment might seem perfect.
Chapter Two

SIX DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Jared stepped forward, taking care not to awaken the guard. He had to get to the bottom of this mystery, and he couldn't do it without finding the...

What? What did Jared need to find?

And why was Kyle battling such a monstrous block on this plot? He'd tried a gazillion things so far. None of them had worked. And he wasn't sure what he was going to do next.

He didn't know where the villain hid the murder weapon. He didn't know what Jared needed to find to solve the mystery. And he couldn't make the ending work.

Pushing back from the keyboard, he stood and stretched out the kinks that five hours of sitting had worked into his muscles. Not that the five hours had done much good. Neither had the past three weeks.

It was eleven in the morning and he was going to have to spend the rest of the day working.

He was supposed to have this book to his editor, Ernest Billings, by the end of January. It was December seventeenth now, and he was still struggling with making the ending work on the first draft--and that meant he had at least another month after he actually finished the ending before he could polish the entire manuscript enough to email it to Ernest. The book was supposed to be on the shelf in another six months, which meant everything was timed far too tight.

He'd never missed a deadline before. And, since he was determined not to miss this one, he was just going to have to work through the holidays.

He crumpled up a sheet of paper and tossed it into the growing heap on his floor next to the waste paper basket. He had a cleaning service that came in once a week to keep the rest of his house clean--not that he was a slob, mind you\--but his office was off limits. And, during deadlines, it could get messy.

He glanced out the window. Oh, great. The neighborhood kids had Christmased his yard again. There was a plastic elf lounging next to the big pine tree between his house and the empty house next door, and he had not put it there. He sighed. He supposed this was what he got for living on an official Christmas Street, where the entire neighborhood--except Kyle--decorated excessively. He could move, but not until after he'd finished this book.

He'd go out later and add the elf to the growing collection in his garage.

The phone rang. He thought he'd taken it off the hook, but obviously had forgotten. He glanced at the Caller ID. When he saw his brother's name, he groaned. Oh, well, might as well get it over with quickly. Keefe would just call every few minutes until the ringing drove him crazy, so Kyle picked up the receiver. "Yeah?"

"Hi, Kyle. Dad asked me to call. Bet you can't guess why?"

Oh, he knew why. The annual family get-together on the ranch. Except he couldn't take the dreariness any more. He was almost glad to have a legitimate excuse. "Sorry, Keefe. I'm having fits with this book and I'm not going to be able to make it."

There was a slight pause. When Keefe spoke, his voice was still pleasant, but Kyle could imagine how much it cost him to sound that way instead of as irritated as he doubtless was. "Dad's gonna be disappointed."

"Don't you think that's playing it a little strong?"

"He didn't want to call you himself, because he'd get too upset. He knew you'd back out." The irritation was there now. "Besides, Alyssa wants to bring some cheer back into the holidays for the family."

"Don't have time this year. Sorry."

"You can be such a pain sometimes. Justin's Eagle Court of Honor is on the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's. It would mean a lot to him if you came."

Guilt shot through Kyle's veins. But he fought it. He was not going to pack for the family's annual guilt trip. "Sorry," he repeated, a slight chill in his own voice. "You don't understand. I have this killer deadline and..."

"Oh, I understand just fine. I understand that your deadlines are grandiose excuses for not spending time with the people who care about you. You know, you may think you're this high-and-mighty author now you've sold a few mystery novels--"

Kyle bit his tongue. He would not mention that his books weren't just any mystery novels, but New York Times best-sellers. Three best-sellers, but who was counting? And if he didn't finish this one, he was afraid there wouldn't be a fifth in the series. "Hey, this is my job. You've got a regular job--"

"Thanks for reminding me."

"--but I write for a living. And that means I have to finish my books. And this one is a bear."

"They're all bears of some color or another. Come on, Kyle, can't you come out for a few days? Bring your laptop. It will really mean a lot to Dad. And I'd kind of like to see your ugly mug myself. Besides, it's your turn to host."

"If you want peanut butter and banana sandwiches."

"Have dinner catered. Or take us to Red Lobster. You can afford it."

Kyle was tempted. He had ordered pizza in for so many nights in a row that the delivery guy--Jake--seemed like one of his best friends. The one he saw most often, at least. But he couldn't afford to take the time off this year. "You can come, but I might not answer the door."

"If you don't take a turn, then Alyssa will have to do it again. That's not fair to her."

"I'm really, really sorry. I tell you what, Keefe. If I push really hard, maybe I can get up there for the New Year's festivities and the Court of Honor."

"Oh, sure you will." Keefe sounded extremely skeptical.

"It could happen."

Voices raised in the background. Keefe sighed and said, "Wait a minute. The kids are fighting."

Kyle watched as a FedEx truck drove slowly past his house. Needing to get back to his book, he turned back and drummed his fingers on his desk. Come on, Keefe. I've got work to do.

Music sounded in the background. Very familiar music. No wonder. Keefe had turned on Christmas music and the strains of Walking in a Winter Wonderland played over the phone.

"Okay, I'm back."

"Turn that down. You know I can't hear myself think with that rot playing."

Keefe just laughed. "Oh, bah, humbug! yourself, Kyle. 'Tis the season. You've just become a scrooge."

"I have not."

"A grinch, then." Keefe got serious and his voice lowered. "The grieving has been going on long enough, Kyle. It's been twenty-two years. It's time we get over it. Alyssa would like this to be a healing Christmas for our family. Mama would want it."

If there was anything Kyle didn't want to do this year, it was deal with that particular hurt. "I'm going to hang up now."

"Okay. Hey, I'll see you next spring at one of your book signings. It might come as a surprise to you to know that some people don't care about books, and not everybody in the world cares that you're a best-selling author. And maybe one day you'll learn that there's more to life than deadlines. Like family."

Kyle fought back his irritation. "I bet the next person I speak to knows my name."

"That's really nice. Too bad so few of your family can remember it." A click told Kyle that Keefe had gotten the last word in their conversation.

He replaced the receiver and sat quietly for a moment. Why couldn't his family understand how important his deadlines were? They were always pushing him to come to events--but his writing was his livelihood. Besides, he had fans who'd be disappointed if his next book didn't come out six months from now. Kids.

And, speaking of writing, he'd better get back to it or he'd never get Book Five finished, much less need to decide on the official title, whether or not the publishing company actually used the one he chose.

Reaching over, he took the phone off the hook. Multiple potential interruptions handled with one simple motion.

He cracked his knuckles, put his hands over the keyboard, and picked up where he'd left off.

In other words, he was still stuck.

Jared had nowhere to go.

* * *

Lexi stood back and surveyed her work.

The snowman was magnificent. The three balls were perfectly round, each smaller than the one below it. He was the perfect snowman, with eyes of coal, a carrot nose, twig arms, red licorice lips and a brightly colored muffler. A slow smile rolled across her lips. "What do you think?"

Trista walked all the way around the rotund, frozen, white body. "It's great."

"I don't know, Mom." Steven pointed to its belly. "I kind of think it needs a knife sticking out right here and maybe some ketchup dripping down."

Lexi rolled her eyes at her blood-thirsty son. "It does not need anything of the sort. The photographers will be rolling up the street first thing in the morning to film this snowman in front of this gorgeous pine tree for my first show on the new contract. There will be no knives, no fake blood, no heads cut off. Do you understand?"

Steven frowned. "Ah, Mom."

Trista laughed. "Boys are so lame."

Lexi's cell phone rang. "Hello."

"Listen, Lexi," Craig said, "the party's off for tonight."

"Ahh, and both the snowman and the food are perfect." Lexi teased with her favorite cameraman. "You'd better be kidding me, because that is not a funny thing to tell a woman with several hundred dollars worth of appetizers sitting in her brand new kitchen."

"I wish I was joking. I'm calling from the hospital. Carolyn's in labor."

"But she's not due for two weeks. Is she all right?"

"The doctor says she'll be fine, but the crews have set up for the birth\\. It's looking like we'll be here all night."

Carolyn was a local single anchorwoman who had been artificially inseminated and thus become the focus of an on-going special edition story. And the news crews--who Lexi'd invited to a get-acquainted party--of course had to film the dramatic ending to the story.

Disappointed, Lexi glanced at the snowman and sighed. "Well, I suppose the snowman will last. After all, it's below freezing. But I've got all this food," she moaned.

"I know. I really wanted to see your new place, too. Sorry."

Her "Bye" echoed after the click.

She sighed again. All that food inside her kitchen, going to waste. She and the kids couldn't make a dent in it. She'd made enough for a large crowd. The same large crowd now crammed into a birthing room at University Hospital.

"What's wrong?" Trista asked.

Lexi turned back to her kids with a sigh. "The party's off. Carolyn's having her baby."

Steven tossed a snowball and hit Trista in the leg.

Trista shot him a don't-you-dare-try-that-again look as she brushed the snow from her pants. When she straightened, she shrugged. "Just invite someone else."

"Like who?"

"How about our new neighbors?"

Lexi smiled. "You are absolutely brilliant. That's just what I'll do. Come on, let's walk down the block and invite everyone to a party."

Trista started walking back to the house. "I think I'm going in to warm up, Mom. But you go ahead."

Steven grinned and followed his sister into the house.

The cold was bitter today and Lexi was anxious to get inside her house with woman's best friend--chocolate. Hot chocolate, to be exact. But she didn't want that food going to waste. She supposed she could freeze it, but it would never be the same.

Lexi glanced at her watch. It was three-thirty now. She'd invite people for the time planned for the original party, six o'clock. She smiled. She was going to have a party, after all. She'd get to know her new neighbors, at least some of them.

And tonight, after everyone had gone back home, she'd give the hospital a call and see when they anticipated the birth. Carolyn did everything dramatically. Lexi wouldn't be surprised if she'd be in labor for a day or so, just to out-do everyone else.
Chapter Three

When the doorbell rang, Kyle groaned.

He was never going to finish this book. Let whoever it was stand there; he didn't have to answer. Maybe he'd have a switch installed that would stop the doorbell from sounding when he didn't want to be disturbed.

He changed to a scene at the end of the book and worked on it for thirty minutes or so, long after the doorbell quieted and the would-be interruption gave up on him, but didn't get much done in that scene, either. With a sigh, he saved the file.

He hadn't been this frustrated in a long time. Maybe what he needed was a short break. Yes, that's what he'd do. He'd go for a walk around the block. He'd leave Jared still searching--forever searching--and forget all about the book for a few minutes. If that was possible.

Kyle turned to the window. It was snowing outside. It was indeed beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Unfortunately. And what was that outside? A newly made snowman at the edge of his yard, close to the elf and pine tree. Oh, please. How archaic. And how lovely that his neighbors had built it smack dab on his property line.

He supposed he ought to feel happy to have a snowman on his yard that he hadn't had to build--except that he wasn't in a snowman type of mood. He wasn't ready for Christmas, Frosty or otherwise. Christmas just brought back painful memories.

He was ready for a walk. He needed to stretch and breathe some fresh air.

Stepping onto his porch, Kyle inhaled deeply. The cold air stung his lungs. He pulled his muffler up around his nose, and sloshed down the steps in his snow boots.

He was glad he'd stepped away from the computer. He needed some relaxation, something to take his mind off the story that wasn't working. Perhaps his subconscious could unravel the plot kinks for him. His conscious mind certainly was having no luck.

Reaching the sidewalk, he turned right. And stopped as an idea began to form in his mind.

The snowman. That was the answer.

Why hadn't he thought of it before? The villain could hide his weapon in a snowman. Perfect. The cops would never think to look inside a snowman, and it wouldn't melt for weeks. But Jared could uncover the truth. It wouldn't be enough to solve the case and end the book, but it would be a great twist.

He was really going to have to thank his neighbors this time. Who would have thought they'd help him by Christmasing his yard?

And what a nice job they'd done on the snowman, too. It was a shame to mess it up, but he needed to see if his villain's evil plan would work.

His mind racing now, he reached into his coat pocket and grabbed a small flashlight. He'd use that in place of the villain's weapon.

Clomping through the calf-deep snow, Kyle stopped right in front of the snowman. Was that red licorice? He loved red licorice. He popped it off and into his mouth.

Now, for the flashlight. He dug out a hole in the front of the protruding belly. He could stick the flashlight in, but it was obvious that the snow had been disturbed.

Okay, that wouldn't work. What next?

He pulled off one of the twig arms and tried to cram the flashlight in the hole, but he soon saw that wouldn't work, either. Even if he could push the flashlight into the tiny hole, he'd never be able to push the twig back in to hide it.

The head. He lifted it off and sat it next to the body. Digging busily, he scooped out a hole in the top of the body and laid the flashlight in.

Perfect. Now he'd just put the head back on. Reaching down, he was startled by a woman's angry yell.

"Hey. What in the heck are you doing to my snowman?"

Looking up, he watched a woman fly up the sidewalk toward him.

Guilt grabbed him. He hadn't really done anything wrong. After all, the snowman was on his property. Still, she seemed very upset. "Is this your snowman? Why did you build it here?"

She dashed up to the snowman and stared at it, disbelief and horror apparent on her face. She pointed to the empty house beside his. Too late, he noticed the unlit Christmas icicle lights dangling across the front.

"I just bought this property." She turned on him with fury in her eyes. "What kind of a person tears apart snowmen?"

She reached for the head.

Feeling really stupid, Kyle said, "Here, let me--"

Leaving the head where it lay, she snapped her hands onto her hips. "You have done quite enough already. Please leave. And please do not tell me you live anywhere around here."

He supposed she meant to look intimidating, but he was struck by her appearance. Why did she look so familiar? He'd swear he'd seen her before, somewhere. Her long red hair flared out from under a purple snow cap. He wondered if her incredibly dark green eyes would lighten when she wasn't so angry.

And because she was so enraged, he certainly wasn't about to admit he lived next door. Instead, he said, "I'd like to help you fix the snowman."

She crossed her arms and drew herself up to her full height, which must have been five foot five, tops. "No. Please go ruin someone else's decorations. And take your flashlight with you."

He stepped back and caught the tossed flashlight. Fine. He'd offered to help and he'd tried to apologize. If she didn't want to accept either, there wasn't much he could do about it.

He stepped onto the sidewalk. He wasn't about to go home now. He'd continue on his walk, and hope she was inside when he came back around the block. Three houses farther down, he looked back to see the woman lift the snowman's head and drop it into place. She looked up and caught him watching her.

She turned her back on him.

He turned and continued his walk. If she was still outside when he came back around, he'd have to sneak in the back door.

It was unfortunate he'd gotten off to such a poor start with his new neighbor. Especially one as attractive as this one could be--at least he assumed she could be, when she wasn't angry and scowling.

* * *

She could still feel that man's gaze on her back. Darn him anyway. Who did he think he was, destroying other people's snowmen? She hadn't seen him when she knocked on neighbors' doors, and hoped he didn't live nearby. It would be a shame to ruin a nice street like this with an attitude like his. That guy had better beware if she caught him on her property again.

She set the snowman's head on top and moved it around until it settled into place.

She tipped her head in disgust. It would take forever to fix this. She lifted the twig and stuck it back in place.

With a huge sigh, she began packing snow onto the hole in the belly. Her anger kept her going. Even an hour later, when she'd repaired the snowman to her satisfaction and trudged up to her house to find a FedEx package waiting for her, leaning against the brick on her porch.

Wondering who'd already sent her a gift in her new house, she lifted the package. But it wasn't addressed to her. It was addressed to Kyle Miller.

Kyle Miller. As in the author?

She checked the address. 501 Sycamore. Her house was 503. They lived right next door to the Kyle Miller? To the Jared Strong guy? Wait until she told the kids.

But maybe she'd better wait until she made sure this Kyle Miller was actually the author. The name could be a coincidence. Miller was a common enough name. So was Kyle.

She knew the author lived somewhere in the general area. But she'd better not jump to conclusions.

Maybe the package was from a publishing house. She checked it. It was from "Keefe and Alyssa," whoever they were.

She carried the package inside, set it on the end table, and shrugged out of her parka.

Just in case she really was going to meet the Kyle Miller, she was going to brush her hair, freshen her makeup, and wear her nice coat.

The day was looking up.

* * *

Clutching the FedEx package in her gloved hands, Lexi pulled her good coat closer around her as she waited for Kyle Miller to answer his doorbell.

She knew someone was home. She had seen someone through the windows a few moments ago. Come on, it's freezing out here. She'd come to this house earlier, but no one had answered. But she really wanted to meet Kyle Miller and invite him to the party--whether he was the author or not.

She knocked on the door again. Hard. Her breath hung frozen in the air, and she wrapped her muffler around her mouth. At least her lips warmed a little. It had started snowing again, and flakes melted on her forehead and ears.

Finally, when she could barely feel her cold fingers any more, the door creaked open, and a man poked his head out. "What on earth are you doing out there in this snowstorm?"

It was the jerk who'd knocked over her snowman! Oh, great. The Kyle Miller she lived next to was a jerk. She prayed now that he was not the author, because the disillusionment would be a great blow to her children.

He must not have recognized her yet, because of the muffler. She decided to go with it for now. "I'm doing just what it looks like. I'm freezing my fanny off."

"Oh, right. Come on in." He motioned inside.

Still carrying his package, she stepped into the foyer.

Warmth. Blessed, delightful warmth.

No Christmas tree, though, or any decorations. Surely he wasn't married, or his wife would have taken care of it. Of course he wasn't married, she smacked herself mentally. Who'd want him?

The man closed the door behind her and she wondered if she should be worried, though her anger still burned hotly enough over her vandalized snowman that she felt she could hold her own.

"Here's an umbrella you can use to get back home." He brightened as if he'd just realized something. "You are the very first person I've talked with since Keefe's call. Tell me, do you know who I am?"

"Sure." She glanced at the package as if to check the name. "You're Mr. Miller."

"Kyle Miller. Surely you've heard the name." He sounded disappointed. "I've been on the best-seller list."

She paused and tried to paste a blank expression on her face--not that he could see it--as her heart sank. He was the author. Well, if it meant something to him to have her recognize his name, she was glad to pretend she hadn't. "No. Can't say I have. I'm just here to--"

He interrupted. "Do you read?"

"Oh, yeah. All the time. Voraciously. I finished Dick and Jane just last night. Fascinating story. Listen--"

He interrupted again. "I'm serious. Don't you read?"

"I was being serious, too. In a flippant sort of way. Of course I read books. I just have never heard of you." She shrugged casually. "Sorry."

"Oh, that's okay." He seemed to really notice her for the first time, and his eyes ran up and down her coat and stopped on her muffler. "Isn't that hot?"

How hot you know not, Mr. Kyle Miller! "The FedEx man delivered this package to my house. Except it was supposed to come to yours."

Choosing this moment to reveal herself, she pulled the muffler down and said, "Why on earth would you tear apart someone's snowman?"

* * *

The woman's voice was as cold as the storm outside and Kyle cringed at the sound of it. This gorgeous woman was the same one who'd refused to let him apologize earlier. Boy, he had really blown it. "It wasn't what it appeared. I was trying to put the head back on."

"After you beheaded it."

"Well, yes, but only because I was looking for a place for the weapon."

"Of course you were." She frowned. "And I'm Santa's head elf."

"You don't believe me." Not that he could say he blamed her. Guilt flooded him as he remembered yanking off the head in his eagerness to try out his villain's plan.

"No."

"Well, I can go show you. The villain--well, I don't want to reveal too much, but--"

She touched his arm and the warmth that tingled up his arm surprised him. "Listen, Mr. Miller, let's just say I'm not stupid. I do read, and I can tell the difference between fixing a snowman and destroying a snowman. I'm really sorry we're gotten off to such a bad start as neighbors, but I don't really see that it's my fault." She stepped back. "Merry Christmas, anyway."

She wrapped the muffler around her face, and then stopped and unwound it again. "Actually, I think I have heard of you. I did read one of your little mysteries. I didn't enjoy it very much, though. Far too predictable."

Chapter Four

FIVE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

"Where are they?" Lexi checked the front window again. "This is my first show here and the camera crew is twenty minutes late. I don't need this today."

Trista stopped her and took her hands. "Now, Mom, when I get this freaked out, you sit me down and tell me I need to chill out."

"I don't need to chill out. I need my camera crew here."

"Trust me. You need to chill out. Your makeup's going to do weird things if you don't stop frowning."

"My makeup?" Lexi asked, searching for the foyer mirror to check herself in.

"Oh, my gosh, Mom, chill out."

The phone rang, and Steven grabbed it. "Hello...Yes...Yes." He handed it to her. "It's for you."

"Hello."

"Hi, Lexi." Craig's voice crackled over his cell phone.

"Hi, Craig." She tried to push her worry back and keep her voice level. "Now I know Carolyn had her baby yesterday so you'll need another excuse today."

"We've had a flat tire, but we'll be there soon." He explained the details quickly and got off the line.

After Lexi hung up, she moaned, "What else can go wrong?"

Trista wrapped her arms around her mother's waist. "Poor Mommy. Do you need a chocolate bar?"

Caught off guard, Lexi laughed. Trista had a way of joking her out of her funks. She teased, "Chocolate? You think I need chocolate?"

"Made you laugh. That means you owe me chocolate, too."

Steven yelled out from the family room, where he was playing some video game, "Get me some, too."

"No. Absolutely no chocolate." Lexi worked hard to keep a straight face. "I need to stay slender for my television audience."

"Well, without a film crew you don't have a television audience," Trista reminded her gently, and patted the couch. "Sit down, Mom."

Lexi sank into the deep cushions with a sigh. "They'll be here. Craig said it was just a flat tire. They'll arrive any minute. My show will go on."

And, because Trista had succeeded in making her laugh, Lexi realized she had calmed. Things would work out--even if they were shooting two shows today to last through the holidays so they could all take the next week and a half off.

"It'll be okay, Mom," her daughter reassured her.

"You'll do fine," Steven said as he came through toward the kitchen for a snack.

She laughed again. "You guys are the best family any woman could ever want."

* * *

Kyle debated on whether to answer the phone, even when he saw his editor's name on the Caller ID. On the fourth ring, he grabbed it. "Hello, Ernest."

"Hi, Kyle. How's it going?"

"Oh, good, good. Great."

"Glad to hear it. Doing anything special for the holidays?"

"Just getting the book done."

"Even better."

"You're a slave-driver, Ernest."

"And you are a miracle writer. Listen, I'm calling to let you know that the production people just moved up your deadline by two weeks. I said it was okay, because you're always way ahead of schedule, so I figured this wouldn't bother you."

Kyle suppressed a groan. "Can they change it back?"

Ernest laughed. "Like you actually need it. Come on. You're the most reliable, punctual writer I've ever worked with."

Kyle couldn't believe this. He could complain, but he was determined to meet all his deadlines. And he wasn't about to admit to Ernest the trouble he was having. If he had to confess all two weeks early, so be it. "So the new deadline is the middle of January?"

Kyle turned toward the window. Outside, a camera crew stood around the snowman he'd trashed yesterday. His neighbor was standing in front of the restored snowman, and the film crew was filming her. Must be some sort of special about their Christmas street.

Ernest laughed. "Middle of January. You're incredible. So it's coming okay, then? It was all right for me to switch the deadline?"

"Nearly done, Ernest. Just a little more tweaking," he said with very little hope that he spoke the truth. "It's almost there."

"Good to hear that," Ernest said. "Oh, and the art department needs information to start working up the cover art. Got anything for me?"

Kyle stared back out the window at the snowman. It was the best idea he'd had, so far. "Use a snowscape and a snowman."

"Sounds great. Talk with you next week. And have a merry Christmas."

As he hung up the phone, he knew he was going to have to figure out some way to break free of this writer's block he was caught in. He'd just lost two weeks, which meant he was under more pressure than ever. And he now had to make the snowman work into his story.

He sank back into his chair, looking at his calendar to see just how bad the situation was, and caught sight of the note reminding him of the book signing tomorrow afternoon.

He didn't suppress his groan this time.
Chapter Five

FOUR DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Why, oh, why had she let her kids talk her into coming to the book signing? But more than that, she couldn't believe that she'd tricked her kids. Instant guilt hit her. Okay, okay, she'd actually lied to them. She'd called the book store and found out the signing was from one to three, but she'd told the kids four to six. She couldn't believe she had lied to her kids just to keep from confronting Kyle Miller again. Whatever had possessed her?

And she'd lied to Kyle, too. Twice in twenty-four hours. She was on a roll, but it wasn't good.

Trista pulled on her hand. "Come on, Mom. There's going to be a long line."

Oh, no, there wasn't. Guilt nagged at her. She wasn't a good liar. And that's probably why her kids had believed her--because she had never lied to them before. Oh, sure, the shot wasn't going to hurt that much, that type of thing--but an out-and-out lie? No.

"Remember last year when we went to the bookstore party at midnight?" asked Steven.

"That was awesome," said Lexi, feeling worse each moment.

When they reached the book store, there was no line. Just an empty table with a big sign and a picture of the artwork of the new book.

"Oh, no," Steven cried out. "He's not here."

"He's got to be." Trista stopped. "There's a book signing."

Obviously trusting their momentarily untrustworthy mother, they both turned to Lexi. She'd really done it now. She couldn't bear the disappointment in their eyes. "I'm sorry, kids. I must have made a mistake." Another lie. You're doing great, Lexi. Great role model here.

Trista's lip quivered. "I wanted him to sign our book."

Steven, more practical, said, "Well, at least we can still buy the book." He scowled. "Unless they're already sold out."

Lexi tried to keep her voice light and free of lies. "Let's go find out."

Luckily there were still copies left, though they were apparently going fast. Lexi purchased a copy of Jared Strong and the Mystery of the Haunted House on Walnut Grove and wondered if she would ever enjoy reading a Jared Strong book again. She'd find out tonight when her kids insisted on hearing the first chapter.

Trista sighed. "I really wanted Mr. Miller to sign it."

Lexi did her best to soothe her daughter--as well as her own guilty conscience. "Perhaps we'll see him around." After all, he did live next door. Unfortunately.

"Sure, Mom. We'll meet Mr. Miller some day. Right." Steven shook his head and led the way down the aisle toward the front of the store.

A door opened, revealing an office.

A man stepped out in front of them. Behind him, still in the office, stood another man. She recognized him immediately. Kyle Miller.

Her heart did double time. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, she should be able to lift up the floor to hide beneath. She turned her head and hoped he wouldn't pay attention to her.

Her kids moved past the two men. He hadn't seen her. The kids hadn't seen him. Relief filled her.

The men shook hands, and the other man said, "I'd like to thank you again, Mr. Miller. It was the best book signing we've ever had."

Her children spun around.

Trista gasped and grabbed Steven's arm. "It's him."

"No, children, you must be mistaken," Lexi said. She was busted. "I know this man. He murders snowmen."

Kyle held out a hand and smiled at her traitorous children. "Kyle Miller. And you are?"

"I'm Trista Anderson. And this is my brother, Steven. Oh, Mr. Miller, we've read all of your books. We love your books."

He glanced at Lexi and an irritating smile twitched at the corners of his smug mouth. "Oh, you do, do you?"

Steven spoke up. "We sure do. Our mom reads them to us. She's read us every single one, lots of times. And we just bought your new one. Would you sign it for us?"

His gaze penetrated hers. She flushed warm from her head to her toes. He knew she'd lied to him, as well. He knew she read his books to the kids. Oh, crap. "I read it to them to show them the horrendous mistakes an author can make."

"Oh, Mom," Trista said with a curious look on her face, "you're so funny."

"Yes, isn't she?" Kyle tapped a finger against his thigh. "I'd love to sign your book."

Steven handed it over to him, excitement shining on his face. "I can hardly wait until Mom reads this to us."

"I figured she'd read you Dick and Jane." Kyle Miller smiled and flicked Lexi a glance.

Oh, well. Things couldn't get worse, could they? She might as well joke with the man. "Actually, I can hardly wait for The Snowman Murders book that you're obviously working on now."

"Really?" Steven asked with wide eyes.

"Your mom's such a joker." Kyle ignored her, and smiled at the kids. "Would you like to join me for ice cream?"

"Hey, there's the Jared Strong guy." A young voice called out.

Lexi looked up to see a group of excited boys moving toward the author, who glanced at his watch. "Join me at my house at seven. Otherwise, we won't have any privacy. It's been nice to meet you, Trista and Steven. See you later."

He turned to greet the approaching group of boys. She was surprised he did it so graciously, as if he really cared about these kids.

Sigh. She supposed it was only snowmen who were in danger around him. But she was determined not to go inside his house again.

It wasn't until they were in the car that Trista wailed, "But we don't know where he lives."

Lexi's conscience nagged at her again, but she didn't say a word.

* * *

Kyle glanced at his watch. Seven-fifteen.

It didn't look as though she was going to bring her kids over. Well, it probably served him right. After all, he had destroyed her snowman, the one she'd had to fix so the camera crew could film it the following day. He still felt guilty over that--guilty enough he'd invited her and her children over. He didn't usually do that sort of thing.

He smiled at the memory of her face when her kids had spilled the beans about her reading his books to them. He had to admit it had helped his self-esteem, too, to know the next person he'd encountered after his conversation with his brother had known who he was, after all.

Yes, he knew that in the eternal scheme of things, it didn't matter. But in his insecure author's heart, he needed the confirmation. Any author would feel the same.

And she had given him an absolutely wonderful idea for hiding the weapon.

He guessed he probably owed her an apology, as well. Part of him was reluctant. But another part of him, the part that had seen the kids' faces when he'd said to come over, made him want to not disappoint them.

And, if he was totally honest with himself, there was something about the woman that intrigued him. She wasn't the most ravishingly beautiful woman he'd ever encountered--but she made a definite vivid first impression. And second. And third.

Well, he'd just go over there. Take his ice cream and his scooper and walk right next door and knock on the door. Why not? What could she do? He already knew she read his books and loved them, and the knowledge made him smile all over again.

Yeah. He'd go over.
Chapter Six

"Okay, kids, it's time for the angel. Help me know when she's straight." Lexi stepped onto the stool, and held the new white-robed tree-top angel she'd found. It was gorgeous, topped with bright red hair and holding a bouquet of tiny lights. "How do you like her?"

When Steven came back into the room from the kitchen, he tilted his head and stared at the top of the tree, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Why do we have Ronald McDonald on top of our tree?"

Lexi caught Trista's eye, and they laughed together.

"What's so funny?" Steven demanded.

"Oh, sweetie. This isn't Ronald McDonald. It's just an angel with red hair."

"Maybe it's Mom," Trista said.

The doorbell rang. Lexi glanced at her watch. Seven-twenty. Maybe it was neighbors delivering holiday goodies. "Would you go answer that, Trista, while I finish straightening Ronald McAngel?"

Trista nodded and disappeared into the entryway. Lexi hummed along with the Christmas song on the radio--Deck the Halls\--and bent one of the top branches. There. The angel stood straight now.

Lexi surveyed the tree with satisfaction.

She and the kids had decorated it with wooden candy cane shapes painted to look like little horses, candy cane ornaments they'd collected, real candy canes, and red bows, and it made a striking tree. Yup. This one worked.

A squeal came from the entry area, and Trista called out urgently, "Steven, come here. Quick."

Steven raced toward the door.

"Who is it?" Lexi asked as she started down the ladder. No one answered, but when she reached the bottom and turned around, she saw for herself.

Kyle Miller. Looking impossibly handsome, his presence filling the room though he hadn't even entered it yet, but stood on the edge of the carpet. He smiled. "You guys didn't come to my party, so I brought the party to you."

"Look, Mom," Steven yelled. "He brought us ice cream. We're going to have ice cream with Kyle Miller."

"How'd you know where we live?" asked Trista.

"I've got connections." He smiled. "Besides, it wasn't hard to discover. I live right next door."

The kids' eyes grew larger.

"We live next door to Kyle Miller," Steven said in hushed, awed tones.

Lexi resisted rolling her eyes at the hero worship. Like the guy needed a bigger head. "Need more titles for your snowman capers?"

Kyle smiled at Steven and handed him a bag. "If it's okay with your mother, why don't you go scoop up the ice cream for us?"

The kids looked at her. She was trapped. She smiled what must be a sickly smile. "Sure." Yeah. Scoop it up. Great. She'd known she couldn't keep her kids from learning he lived next door for long--but she wasn't ready to deal with this tonight.

As the kids raced off toward the kitchen, Kyle took a step into the room. "Listen, we got off to a bad start the other day, and I'd like to fix that, if I could. I'm very sorry that I ruined your snowman. This house has been empty for so long and the neighbors are always decorating my yard with lights and snowmen." He smiled again. "They think it's funny to Christmas my yard. I didn't realize it was your snowman, or that anyone would care what I did with it. But I'm very sorry." Then he just stood there, all handsome and solemn, waiting for her to speak.

Well, she'd be a total jerk if she didn't accept an apology that nice. She stepped forward, too. "I forgive you." She scowled in mock ferocity. "But don't think that's going to keep me from coming up with future titles for your books."

To her surprise, he laughed. "So what's the title of the day?"

"Let's see." She put her fingers to her forehead, stretching out the moment. "To Kill A Snowman."

"I like it."

She relaxed. And that was probably a foolish thing to do with a handsome man like this. Especially one who had that "interested" gleam in his eye, whose smile warmed her, and who seemed to fit in too easily with her family. She needed to keep up her guard.

She didn't need a man in her life. Remember?

Everything was fine just the way it was.

No changes.

Remember?

And then her kids raced back into the room, their faces bright with delight at having their favorite author here.

* * *

Kyle watched the expression on Lexi's face and wondered what made her look so pale.

She must have realized he still held his coat, because she finally offered to take it from him, and hung it in a closet.

"Your house looks great."

"Well, it should." Finally, she smiled. He'd guessed right--without the scowl, she was very pretty. "I have a decorating show and people expect it of me."

"A show?" he parroted, sounding like an idiot. That must have been what the film crew had been doing yesterday.

The little girl spoke up proudly. "On Channel Four. Alexis Anderson." She sounded like she knew he'd recognized her mother's name.

He did recognize her mother's name. That's why she'd looked so familiar. "You're Alexis Anderson? The up-and-coming Martha Stewart of the new millennium?"

"Guilty." Lexi smiled. "Only without the prison term."

"You look taller on television." He whistled. "No wonder your house looks gorgeous."

"Thanks." She motioned toward the kitchen and the two kids who stood there, waiting for him. "Besides, I love Christmas."

"Well, of course you love Christmas. You're paid to love Christmas."

Instead of being offended, she simply smiled. "I already loved Christmas. I just also happen to get paid for it now."

"My family should have called you to host the family party, not me. I'm no good at this kind of thing."

She led the way into the kitchen, and the kids fell back with him, and started asking questions. The questions all kids asked him: What's going to happen in the next Jared Strong book? Will Melinda ever get Jared to notice her? Will anyone ever outsmart Jared?

By the time he'd given his standard answers--can't reveal any secrets ahead of time; maybe; and never\--he was seated at the table in the kitchen.

Lexi sat across from him. The kids sat on either side like bookends.

And suddenly the scene overwhelmed him. Everything was perfect. She'd just moved in, but her house was already totally decorated. He'd lived out of boxes for six months after his own move. Everywhere he looked touches of home and holidays jumped out at him.

On the front door hung a large red and green wreath.

In the living room, the beautiful candy cane tree appealed to the little boy in him.

In the entryway, large whimsical wooden reindeers pulled a sleigh filled with brightly wrapped gifts, and on top sat a stuffed Santa.

Boughs of holly entwined their way up the oak banister.

Mistletoe hung in the doorway to the kitchen.

Cinnamon and baked bread scented the air.

The closing notes of Deck the Halls faded, and Silent Night, Holy Night rang out.

His mother's favorite Christmas carol. Homesickness swept through him. Not for his house, or his father's or his brother's. But for the home of his childhood, before his mother had died on Christmas Eve and left him and his dad and his two brothers to muddle through each subsequent Christmas season with just one skinny little Wednesday's tree and a sleighful of aching hearts.

He needed to get out of here so he could breathe. At the same time, he wanted to stay and be part of a real family Christmas, if only for a few moments.

Before he could do anything, the boy asked him another question.

He took a deep breath for calm, and tried to listen.

* * *

Lexi watched Kyle across the table. He seemed so far away, as if he were in one of his books instead of here.

Her son repeated his question. "Mr. Miller, do you ever go speak at schools and stuff?"

That brought his attention back to the table. "Please, call me Kyle."

Steven glowed.

"And, yes, sometimes I do speak at schools."

"Would you come speak at my school?"

Lexi said, "Steven!"

"No, that's all right. I'd like that, but I'm on deadline right now. I won't be able to do it until I've sent my book to my editor."

The boy's face fell. "Oh."

Trista said, "Steven's birthday is on January fourth and we're having a big party. Would you like to come over for cake and ice cream, Mr. Mil--um, Kyle?"

Kyle caught Lexi's eye. Slowly a smile widened on his face. "Sure. What time?"

Steven's eyes got big. "You'll come to my birthday party?"

He shrugged. "Sure. Why not? I like parties. You're going to have cake and ice cream, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Steven's grin filled his whole face. "I'm gonna have Kyle Miller at my birthday party. Wow. Thanks."

Kyle smiled.

Lexi didn't. "It's very nice of Mr. Miller to offer to do such a nice thing, but I'm sure he's much too busy to come here for your party during his deadline."

"Ah, Mom." Trista frowned. "He said he would."

"Really. It's okay." Kyle said and his eyes darkened, though with what emotion Lexi couldn't tell.

Before Lexi could say anything else, Steven overflowed with excitement. "This is so cool. My friends aren't going to believe it. Kyle Miller will actually be at my party, and maybe you could read some of your book to us. Maybe we could have a mystery party like Mike had."

Even Trista was swept away. "Oh, Mom, can I invite my friends, too? Maybe we could dress up like some of the characters. I'll be Melinda."

"And I'll be Jared Strong!" Steven stood up and struck a heroic pose. "Ta-dah!"

Dismayed, Lexi saw change she wasn't ready for. She didn't want anyone to come in and upset their life. Her children were very vulnerable and she didn't want them disappointed. She didn't want to be in this man's debt. She'd worked too hard to be independent.

She felt compelled to offer him something in exchange. "Hey, kids, why don't you go up and get our first three Jared Strong books and ask Mr. Miller if he'll autograph them for you."

"Cool," Steven said.

As the kids raced up the stairs, Lexi turned to Kyle. "It's very kind of you to offer, but I need to do something for you in return."

* * *

He raised an eyebrow, wondering what new, surprising thing she would come up with next. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'll allow you to do my son's birthday party."

"Very generous of you." He smiled.

She smiled back, brightly. "In exchanged, I'll do your family's Christmas party."

Just like that, huh? He grinned. "Oh, you are quick. I didn't know reading Dick and Jane could sharpen the mental skills like that."

She flushed pink and had the grace to look sheepish. "I guess I owe you an apology for the other night, too."

"Accepted, but that's not what I meant. You make hosting my family party sound so easy."

"How hard can it be? Fix a turkey dinner and some pies."

"That's the point. I'm no good at all that."

"But I am. I love to host big parties."

Not for Kyle's siblings. Not for Kyle's dad. And especially not at Christmastime. It was a tempting thought, just not a wise one. He shook his head. "You don't know my family."

She looked horrified, while her green eyes reflected mischief. "Does snowman mutilation run in the family?"

He couldn't keep from chuckling. "No, I don't think so."

"Well, then, how bad could they be?" She leaned forward and touched his hand. "I would really like to do this."

Warmth spiraled from her hand into his and zipped up his arm, melting his normal reserve, and he conceded somewhat. "Perhaps."

She smiled and withdrew her hand. She had him, now. "One other thing..."

He mock scowled, wishing he dared reach out and take her hand in his. "What now?"

"I'm a decorator." She paused. "I've noticed you're not."

Could she say understatement? "Must have been the three minutes in my entryway the other night."

"Didn't take longer than thirty seconds." She leaned toward him, earnest, her perfume inviting. "Let me decorate your house for the holidays."

"Absolutely not." He could feel his lips tighten. She might be pretty, but she was invading his space.

"Well, at least let me do your yard, then. You live on Christmas Street, for heaven's sake, and you've got the only unlit house for three blocks."

He took a deep breath and trotted out his usual lame excuse. "Listen. I don't have time to decorate."

"That's why I'll do it for you." She sighed and the sound vibrated in the air sadly.

He wasn't sure what to say, so he stayed quiet.

When she spoke again, she was serious. "Listen, I'm an only child, so I have no siblings. My parents died in a car crash, so I have no family whatsoever. I have no one but my kids. And I just moved into the area, so I don't really have friends yet. Please allow me the privilege of surrounding myself with family, even if it is not my own. You'd be doing me a favor."

Kyle looked at her and wanted to please her. The next moment, equally solemn, he found himself spilling his guts to this woman he barely knew. "It doesn't help you get into the mood of the holidays if your mother died of cancer on Christmas Eve when you were nine years old."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Lexi sat back in her chair. "How awful for you."

He waved a hand, trying to dismiss the subject he never spoke of. "It was a long time ago."

"And you still don't do Christmas." She shook her head sadly.

Unexpectedly, he found himself chuckling. "I barely do family any more."

"But that might be part of the healing for you. If you could do a family Christmas."

"Listen, lady, I can barely stand to be in your house, there're so many memories being triggered. That's all I'd need is to have my family in my decorated house."

She sat quietly for a minute, obviously thinking it out. "So does your whole family avoid the holidays?"

"You bet. All three of us boys. Dad, too. Although Keefe's wife Alyssa does try to brighten things up at their house. She grew up next door, so she knew Mama, too."

"What do you think would happen if you invited your family and decorated your house for them?"

"They'd probably walk in the house, turn around, march right back out, and double check the house number." He drew in a deep breath. "Look, I don't want your pity."

"Pity?" She laughed warmly, the sound as sparkling and magical as pixie dust. "Boy, have you read me wrong. Getting you back into the holidays is the biggest challenge someone like me could have."

The kids raced back into the room, and their pretty mother smiled. "Kids, Kyle Miller is going to be here for your birthday party. And we're going to help him decorate his yard for Christmas."

She was invading his space again. "Now, wait--"

She smiled in triumph, and the kids squealed in excitement so that he couldn't say any more, not without disappointing them. How did she know he'd react this way?

She'd played him.

Like a musical instrument.

And, he realized with surprise, he'd enjoyed being played. But it scared the daylights out of him to think about actually celebrating Christmas. "I'm not inviting my family."

"You have to." Her eyes lit up. More mischief, no doubt.

"And why exactly is that?"

"Because otherwise my kids will think you're chicken."

She'd issued a challenge, and her kids knew it. Their eyes grew large and they glanced from their mother to him and back again.

The silence lingered in the air until Lexi placed her hands on her hips, arched an eyebrow, and said, "Triple dog dare you."

He chuckled again at the sight. Oh, what could it hurt? His mother had died twenty-two years ago. If this pretty redhead with the domestic touch was right and this party would be a healing thing, that would be a good thing, right? Besides, it would give him a great excuse to spend more time with Lexi. And, surprised, he realized he very much wanted more time with Lexi.

Slowly a smile spread over her face. "So you'll be inviting your family, Mr. Miller?"

"I'll call them tonight." He found himself smiling in return. "If they don't die of surprise, I suppose they might even show up."

"Good." She pulled out a notebook and a pen. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

"I can't think of anyone more suited to getting it done. Just don't plan on putting my yard on your show."

"No guarantees on that one. Your place is going to be so gorgeous it'll be a shame to waste it."

Amazed, he could hardly believe he'd agreed to invite his family. What was there about this woman that invited his confidences about Mama? And why was he letting her call the shots on this--and not minding?

She didn't look one bit like his exotic Italian beauty of a mother, Gabriella Fiorenza Calabria Miller. But he was beginning to think Lexi had the same strength of will his mother had exerted over his big Irish father, who she could get to agree to anything. And he was beginning to understand why his father had let her have her way.

Lexi's smile was very pretty. He liked to see her use it.

He suspected his father would like this woman, too.

He drew in another deep breath. He'd never thought he'd celebrate Christmas again. And now he supposed he really ought to get back to his book. But one more look at Lexi, and he decided he could stay away from it for another half hour or so.

The board games lasted closer to two hours.

* * *

As soon as he reached home, Kyle dialed his brother's number.

"Hello." Keefe's wife answered.

"Hi, Alyssa. It's Kyle."

"I vaguely remember you," she teased lightly. "Aren't you the black sheep of the family?"

"That's me." He drew in a deep breath. "Keefe told me if I didn't host the party this year it would fall on you again."

"Oh, that's all right. I enjoy doing it."

"You know what, why don't you get Keefe on the other line. I'm not sure I can say this twice."

"What's wrong?" Her voice grew concerned.

"Nothing's wrong." At least he didn't think so. Or everything was wrong, he wasn't sure. "Just get Keefe."

He could hear her call her husband, and then the click of another phone.

"I'm on."

"Hi, Keefe. Okay, guys, I guess you're all wondering why I've called this meeting."

Keefe snorted. "To tell us you can't make it for the Court of Honor, either?"

Kyle deserved that, he supposed. He'd spent too much time in the last five years avoiding all family gatherings. "No. Actually, I'm taking you up on your invitation to host the party this year. You're all invited to my house for the holidays. With one condition."

There was silence for a moment on the line. Then Alyssa laughed. "That's great. You're celebrating a holiday, all right. It's a little early for April Fool's Day, but with you it's a start."

"What's the condition?" Keefe sounded suspicious.

"It's a cinch. Just call Dad and Kenneth for me. Because I really do have a bear of a deadline."

"Anything you want us to bring to go with the peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Good thing we're not wine drinkers because I just wouldn't know whether to bring red or white." Keefe asked.

"Oh, no. We'll be having a lovely dinner."

"Chuck-A-Rama a la cart, eh?"

"No, actually," Kyle smiled at the thought, "Alexis Anderson is catering."

"Yeah, right." Keefe laughed. "We'll bring something."

Alyssa said, "I'm glad you're having the party. May I suggest a new tradition this year?"

Keefe chuckled and said, "I'll get off now and let the Queen of Happy Holidays take over."

Another click let Kyle know that it was just him and Alyssa on the line.

"Okay, here goes nothing, she said. "I'd like to go through a holiday with your family where everyone isn't all depressed."

She stopped, as if waiting for him to blast the thought..

He shrugged, though she couldn't see him. "I think that's a great idea." It was certainly what Lexi had just finished telling him.

It was becoming obvious to him that Christmas needed a woman's touch. And, if their mother couldn't be there with them, perhaps these other two good women could make the difference.
Chapter Seven

THREE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Looking in the bathroom mirror, Kyle ran a comb through his hair. He'd already showered and dressed--much earlier than normal--just in case Lexi wasn't joking last night. It would be embarrassing if she caught him in his bathrobe.

Yawning, he hoped she hadn't meant it. No, wait, that wasn't entirely true. After he'd called his family last night and invited them, he hoped she did mean she would help him deal with his family, though he still didn't particularly want cute Christmas things all over his lawn, though.

Tossing the comb down, he closed the drawer.

Now, while he waited for Lexi to show, time to work.

The commute took him all of two minutes, which was one of the perks of working from home. It was eight-thirty in the morning and he was booting up his computer, hoping for early inspiration.

Surely today he'd break through his writer's block. Always before, if he would just apply his back side to the seat enough days in a row, something would begin to happen on the pages, and eventually that something would be good. Millions of readers couldn't be wrong. Could they?

Who knew that an author who'd sold as many best sellers as he had could still be so insecure.

Icons popped onto his screen, and he clicked to open his book file: Strong5. He searched for his place and, after reading a few paragraphs, he was back in the story. Which meant he was also back at the block.

After thirty minutes of struggling to motivate the ending he needed, Kyle muttered a word his mother would not have approved of. With that thought, he leaned back in his chair. Thoughts of her always bubbled up through his shield this time of year, carrying sadness. Sorry, Mama.

When the doorbell rang, he jumped in his seat. It was just after nine. Who on earth was up terrorizing the neighborhood at this hour of the day? He hoped it was Lexi.

He opened the door to find his very attractive, very pushy redheaded neighbor on his door step, smiling up at him. "Ready to go?"

He glanced at his watch in mock dismay. "Are you kidding? It's the middle of the night for me. I was up until three."

"Do all authors keep such undead hours?" She tilted her head. "May I come in?"

"Oh, sure." He opened the door wide and she entered, filling the entry with Christmas cheer.

"So," she turned back and clasped her hands together as if in delight, "have you bought any decorations at all?"

"Decorations?" he repeated dumbly, pretending to misunderstand.

"Yes. You know. Rudolph. Candy canes. Mistletoe."

He shook his head. "Nope. Haven't bought nary a one."

With a look of disbelief, she said, "Everyone has lights. Please tell me you at least have lights. And a tree stand."

"I have a lot of stuff, actually. Stuff my neighbors have left on my yard over the past few years. It's in my shed."

"All right. Let's go check out your stash."

He led the way to the shed, unlocked it, threw open the doors, and pointed inside with a flourish. "There. Anything you might possibly want to put up can be found in this shed."

She looked inside, whistled in appreciation, and looked him square in the eye. "You didn't buy any of this?"

"Nope."

"Wow. I moved into a more affluent neighborhood than I thought for your neighbors to be able to afford all of this."

"They do it out of spite." He repressed a smile at her expression.

He'd never seen anyone as efficient as she was. Within ten minutes, she'd gone through all the lights, the elves, the Santas. Turning to him, she said, "We need more."

"How could we possibly need more than this?"

"Oh, my dear famous author, you are so naive in the ways of the Christmas world." She slipped her hand around his elbow and they started out of the shed. "You are going to have the most beautiful yard on our very much decorated street."

"Buying decorations wasn't part of the deal," he began.

She stopped. "You're not going to renege on a deal, are you? I never took you for the kind of guy who would do that. What are my children going to think? In fact, what are all of your young fans going to think?" Her voice was teasing.

"Let me guess. You'll let them all know on your next show."

"I bet the Enquirer would pay me a good ten grand for this story. Maybe twenty."

He sighed deeply. "You are indeed an evil and heartless woman, Ms. Anderson."

"And don't you forget it. Now get your credit card warmed up and don your sunglasses so we're not disturbed by your many short young fans while we're shopping."

And shopping they did. He followed her dutifully with a cart, then two, plus one of the big flat ones to carry the large lighted 3-D items on. She was so animated and happy and her smile was infectious. He found himself enjoying himself more and more.

He'd dated through the years--even been engaged once--but he'd never found anyone he could just spend time with like this and enjoy. A friend, who seemed more than a friend. Almost a part of him.

She even seemed able to keep his Christmas demons at bay. Or at least he thought so until, suddenly, in the cinnamon-scented ornament aisle, the walls started to close in on him.

This was just too much Christmas.

He'd been foolish to attempt this. He knew better.

She put a hand on his arm. "Are you okay? You're pale."

He should not say anything about the past. He should just push these feelings back where they belonged. He should just tell her he was fine and move on.

Instead, he found himself whispering, "It just gets hard sometimes. Because of my mother." He pointed to the blue glass bulbs. "She loved glass ornaments. And we boys were so rambunctious that we broke quite a few of them. And..." he grew quiet, the pain bubbling up into his heart and choking him. He took some deep breaths, stuffed the pain back down, and the feeling passed.

Better now, he looked her in the eye. "I'm fine. Let's go on."

Obviously she didn't believe him. "Sometimes it's good to face the feelings, feel them and then let them go. You can't go on pushing them back forever."

What did she know about his feelings? Resentment rose within him. "I'm fine," he repeated.

"I'm glad." She smiled, though a bit forced. "All right. I think we've got enough stuff now. What say we head for the cashier?"

Relieved, he said, "Yes."

But before they reached the front, she found Rudolph and all the other reindeers pulling a giant Santa-filled sleigh. She stopped. "This would look lovely right next to your driveway."

"No way. I've already got three reindeer and four candy canes and I've lost track of how many disgusting little elves."

She shrugged. "Well, if you want your family to be disappointed."

"My family is going to die of shock as it is. You force me to buy this and you could be guaranteeing a death in my family."

"I'd have never guessed you were raised in such a family of wimps."

He laughed out loud at that. "Wait until my brothers hear what you called them."

"Yeah. Well, I'll call them that to their faces, too," she teased.

"I have no doubt of that. I just wonder what you'll use to blackmail them with."

"I can convince some people with a smile."

"And others you have to resort to blackmail." He took a deep, melodramatic breath. "Okay. We'll get the stupid sleigh."

"You're so cute when you're exasperated."

She stood so near that he could smell the light flowery perfume she wore and could feel the warmth radiating from her body. When she turned her vivid green eyes on him--eyes which did stay just as rich when she wasn't angry--and smiled, he wanted to drop what he held in his arms and pull her into them. Instead, he smiled back.

"You know, it would be a shame to have such a beautifully decorated yard and nothing inside your house."

"Now you want to decorate my house. Why does that not surprise me?"

Her smile widened. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Ah, why not? If I don't agree, you'll just find something else to blackmail me with." He was amazed at what he was doing for this woman. And actually, shock of shocks, enjoying it.

"And remember that you still have to buy gifts for your family."

He was still shaking his head in disbelief twenty minutes later as he handed the clerk his VISA card and she swiped it through the reader. Five-hundred-fifty-six dollars and twenty-nine cents worth of Christmas decorations.

Suddenly, the unreality of it all hit him. He couldn't believe he had just spent money on Christmas decorations.

He looked at Lexi. He'd bought them for her. What was he thinking?

She smiled up at him. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He shook his head in mock dismay. "It was horrible."

"It gets better," she said. "Now we'll go put them up in your yard."

He took a deep breath. "That means--"

"Exactly," she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. "This year, you're going to Christmas your own yard."

* * *

"We'd like a booth in the back," Kyle said.

The waiter led the way past booths of people who occasionally glanced their way and then looked puzzled, as if they thought they had seen them before. Lexi wondered how long before they were recognized.

Lexi slipped into a booth and Kyle sat across from her. They both ordered hot chocolate. And then, because no one could see them, they both slipped off their sunglasses.

Kyle smiled. "I read that Norma Jean didn't even need sunglasses--she turned Marilyn on and off, becoming invisible when she wanted."

"Not that we're nearly as famous as Monroe, but it can still be hard to have a quiet conversation in public."

They shared small talk for the few minutes it took the waiter to return with their hot cocoa. This time he looked at Lexi with one eyebrow raised, and then at Kyle. His eyes widened. "Are you...?"

Lexi smiled and put her finger in front of her lips. "We don't want anyone to know."

"Wow. Will you autograph my book? It's in my backpack."

"Sure." As the waiter left, Kyle shrugged at Lexi.

Lexi picked up her mug of Stephen's hot cocoa and glanced at Kyle, across the café table from her. "Gotta work on turning it off, I guess. You see that I succeeded just fine."

He laughed. "I'll work on it."

She set down her cup, feeling warmer already. It was nice to be with someone who wasn't impressed with her television show credentials. Someone who just enjoyed being in her company.

Kyle took a sip of his cocoa. "Listen, I've been thinking."

"I am so impressed."

"I know. Hard to imagine, isn't it?" His smiled faded into something more serious. "After all the work you're doing for this party, I really would like to invite you and your children to join us on Christmas morning to open gifts. If you don't have anything already planned, that is."

When he put his hand on hers, Lexi felt a warm shock. What was happening to her? She didn't want to have anything in her life change, yet she could feel change in the air, in her children, in the hand holding hers. She didn't pull her hand away.

She didn't have family. She didn't have many friends close by. It would be okay to enjoy this camaraderie for a few moments, wouldn't it? After all, she enjoyed his company. He was turning out to be a good friend. And she needed friends.

"What do you say?" he coaxed. "Christmas morning?"

The thought of having a good friend warmed her heart. "I'd like that very much."

* * *

Lexi pointed to a spot by the driveway, and the men delivering the large decorations placed it where she indicated.

One of the men even saluted.

"Thanks for your help." She fished in her pocket for a tip.

"Thanks." The younger man flashed her an interested look. He was attractive enough, but she wasn't interested in getting involved romantically with anyone.

The other man called to the younger one. "Come on, Eric. Let's leave Mr. and Mrs. Anderson to do their decorating."

The younger man smiled at her once more and the two men drove off, their company van slipping and sliding on the ice-covered streets.

She wondered if Kyle had heard he was now Mr. Anderson. She blew out a breath that turned to visible steam.

"Look, Mom's a fire-breathing dragon." Steven raced around her in his new snow attire. Moving from California, they'd had to buy all new warm clothes.

"Actually, I'm more like an ice-breathing dragon."

Kyle came up beside her. "Being cold serves you right for getting me to spend so much money, Mrs. Anderson."

The twinkle in his eyes told her that he had heard. And he was laughing as if he didn't mind the thought.

"I like freezing," she insisted.

"Sure you do." He laughed again. "Okay, what's next, Ms. Slavedriver Decorator?"

"Run these lights across the roof line."

"So I'm to risk life and limb next, huh? All right. If that'll make you happy." He carried the ladder, set it up and checked for stability, climbed up and reached out his hand. "Well, aren't you at least going to hand them up to me?"

"You really haven't done this for a long time, have you?"

"How about never. I wasn't kidding about my family having heart attacks."

"Well, then it's a very good thing I came along to rescue you and your family from your unlit Christmas past."

A man wandered over from two houses down. He nodded at Lexi; she'd met him when he and his wife had come to her impromptu dinner.

He looked up at Kyle and deadpanned, "So, how's it going?"

Kyle looked down from the ladder. "Hi, George."

George shook his head. "What's gotten into you?"

"Oh, just got bit by the Christmas spirit bug."

George unboxed a string of lights and handed it up. "How long you suppose this'll last?"

"I'm not sure," Kyle answered. "I've never had it happen before."

George shook his head again. "Well, maybe if you take two aspirin and lie down, the feeling will pass."

"Hey," Lexi protested. "No undermining here."

"Ah," George said. "Our own Alexis Anderson. I am impressed with your powers or persuasion. I heard you had supernatural powers before, and now I'm positive of it. I never thought I'd see the day when my good neighbor here would allow even one Christmas light on his lawn. And now you've succeeded where we've all failed. How ever did you do it?"

She grinned. "I had to blackmail him."

"Well, keep it up. It's nice." George shook her hand. "See you in church tomorrow?"

Alexis nodded.

Kyle said, "Wouldn't miss your Sunday School class, George. I get some of my best sleep in there."

"Ah, it's a sad thing when a grown man doesn't know any of the answers and has to seek his solace in sleep."

As George left, another neighbor meandered over. By the time Kyle climbed down from the ladder, Lexi had met or been re-introduced to at least ten neighbors. She wasn't surprised at the surprise these people felt at what he was doing, but she was amazed at the spirit of good will they all had for him, even though he'd resisted their decorations for years. He seemed to inspire good will.

Look at what he'd done for her and her kids.

She was sure glad she was just helping him decorate and she didn't have to worry about his charisma. She was just his decorator and blackmailer. Much simpler that way.

A blonde woman, her body stuffed into pink stretch ski pants and a bright pink form-fitting sweater, wandered over. "Hi, Kyle. Good to see you out and about. Got your latest book done yet?" The woman's voice was almost a caress. No, it definitely was a caress. Silky, warm, sensual. Lexi rolled her eyes.

He looked down from the ladder. "Still working on it."

"I don't suppose you'd give me an early edition?"

Kyle laughed. "Now, Cecile, you know I can't do that. My publisher would be very displeased with me. And I try never to displease my publisher."

The woman reached up to place her hand on Kyle's arm and laughed along with him. A pang of jealousy bit through Lexi. Where had that come from? He wasn't hers, not in any sense of the word. So where had that strong feeling of possessiveness come from?

She turned back to the job at hand, trying to ignore the woman's sensual voice behind her, and growing more and more uptight.

That neighbor had every right to be here. After all, Lexi was just a neighbor, too. Even as she tried to convince herself, Lexi knew she was in big trouble.

She moved over to Trista. "Quick. Tell me to chill out."

"Chill out." Trista moved a reindeer into place, and said, ice in her voice. "What's that woman doing here?"

"Well, she's a neighbor, just like we are. She has every right to be here."

"She's making me really mad. She's trying to get him to date her."

"Well, I suppose he dates all the time."

Trista's eyes flashed. "If he's going to date anyone, it ought to be you."

"Me? I'm just a neighbor."

Steven nodded his head. "Yeah. It ought to be you."

She hadn't even known her son was listening.

"I'm going to get rid of her," Steven said with a determined look.

"Now, Steven, you behave."

He smiled up angelically at his mother. "Now, Mom, I will. I'm going to behave just like a boy."

And he raced around the yard making loud noises, in circles around Kyle and the intruder.

Lexi rolled her eyes.

Trista kept a look out. It was only a few minutes later when she smiled. "She's leaving."

As just a decorator and a blackmailer, Lexi shouldn't feel quite so relieved at that news.
Chapter Eight

TWO DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS

The kids raced into Kyle's kitchen and Steven called out, "Someone's here."

"It's a fancy car," Trista said with a grimace. "A big green ugly one."

"Be sure and point that out to the owners," Lexi said.

"Mom. I'm not going to tell them," Trista answered in her you're-so-stupid voice.

"Thank goodness for that." Lexi wiped her floury hands on her apron. "Okay. I guess that means we're on."

Untying her apron and laying it on the counter, she surveyed Kyle's kitchen. There was enough food here to feed twenty people. She'd start by welcoming the newcomers with cookies. Kyle's house and yard looked fantastic now. He had spent a good part of the day yesterday helping her and, though he kept saying how worried he was about getting his book out on deadline, he had worked for hours beside her. It had been a wonderful day.

And this morning he'd found a seat in the row behind hers in church. He'd shown her where George's Sunday School class met, introducing her to people and, when class started, sitting beside her. And, despite what he'd said, he didn't sleep at all. And, despite what George had said, Kyle knew quite a few answers.

Kyle had told her his married brother would arrive today with his family, with his other brother and father coming later. They'd all be here for dinner at six. And she planned to have a feast ready for them. "Trista, grab that platter of cookies, will you?"

Very carefully, her daughter picked it up.

Taking a deep breath, Lexi smiled. She was more worried about these people liking what she'd done than she was with her television audience. "Okay."

Steven looked worried. "What if they don't like gingerbread cookies and chocolate chip cookies?"

"Everybody likes cookies," Lexi said, hoping she was right.

Nervously, she peeked out the window. What Trista thought of as an ugly green car was a large Mercedes, now parked in Kyle's driveway, beside the newly installed sleigh and reindeer. Her eyes moved to the previously mutilated and beautifully rebuilt snowman who had introduced her to Kyle Miller, the famous author. She couldn't resist a smile when she thought about Kyle. That first impression had been a killer--a snowman killer, to be exact.

She couldn't believe how nervous she was. This was just a good deed she was doing, in exchange for Kyle making an appearance at her son's birthday party. Helping a lost man and his family find the Christmas spirit again.

If she kept that in mind, she hoped she wouldn't be nervous.

So far, it wasn't working.

When a knock sounded on the door, she wiped her free hand on her slacks.

"Mom, chill out," Trista whispered.

"Okay." Lexi pulled the door open, and a handsome man who looked remarkably like Kyle stood there, holding what looked like a package of food. A pretty, petite, dark-haired woman, also holding food, and two children about the same ages as Trista and Steven stood beside him.

"You must be Kyle's brother."

His eyes lit up. "Guilty. Keefe Miller." He stuck out his free hand and lifted his eyebrow in question.

She could feel herself blushing at what he was obviously thinking. Pull yourself together, girl. "I live next door and I'm helping your brother with the party. I baked some cookies to welcome you and your family for Christmas." She placed the platter on the entryway table. "I'm Lexi Anderson. These are my children, Trista and Steven."

She looked up at the sprig of mistletoe Kyle had apparently added after she'd left.

Keefe followed her gaze. "Not too subtle, is he?" He stepped inside. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"My mom does the Alexis Anderson show," Trista offered.

The woman raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You're Alexis Anderson? That's great."

Keefe laughed. "Then I guess we won't be needing this food. We thought he was joking. Ms. Anderson, this is my wife, Alyssa. And my children, Justin and Jill."

Lexi motioned to her children. "Trista and Steven have a movie ready to play in the next room. A Christmas Story, I think. You kids can go in there if you'd like."

Trista, the perfect little hostess, helped put away the coats and boots that the kids shed, and then led them to the movie room. Lexi took the adults' coats.

Lexi shut the door and motioned for them to come in. "Kyle went out for some last minute shopping. He'll be back any minute."

Keefe raised an eyebrow. "Shopping? Kyle? Are you sure you haven't turned him into a Stepford brother?"

"Hey, Dad, come see this," one of Keefe's kids called out.

"I'll be back, ladies."

Alyssa turned slowly in the entryway, touching the holly entwined around the mirror, shaking her head in disbelief at the miniature wooden sleigh and reindeer on the edge of the living room carpet, going closer to get a good look at Lexi's homemade centerpiece nestled on the fancy cherry wood dining room table. "I'm stunned by what Kyle has done to his place. And I'm so excited to meet you." She stopped. "Wait a minute. Did you somehow arrange for all this decorating to go on?"

Lexi laughed as she led the way into the family room and sank into one of the fluffy overstuffed chairs. "I did."

Alyssa sat on the couch. "No wonder. I couldn't figure out what came over him. He never has family over. And he never decorates. None of them do. Keefe resisted it the first few years we were married, but he's getting better." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Their mother died on Christmas Eve."

"I heard. It's very sad."

"How well do you, um..." Alyssa leaned back. "...know Kyle?"

"Actually, I just moved into the house next door last week. The first night I built a snowman, which Kyle tore apart when he realized the murder weapon in his book could be hidden inside."

Alyssa laughed. "He over-focuses when he's on a deadline. Tell me how you ever convinced him to do all this? I mean, reindeers and sleighs on the lawn? Lights over his entire roof? Elves?"

"I think I may have blackmailed him."

"Whatever it takes. And I'm glad you're living next door. I'm already seeing improvements in Kyle's attitude. Keep up the good work."

Keefe entered the room. "Has Alyssa been telling you how we Miller boys are bad boys?"

It was Lexi's turn to laugh. "No. Are you?"

"Actually, they don't mind being called bad boys. But they hate being called handsome warriors."

Keefe growled in mock anger.

"See what I mean?" Alyssa laughed again. "Has Kyle told you this story?"

"No." Lexi shook her head. "Please share it with me."

The front door opened and Kyle entered the room. "Hi, family."

"You got home just in time." Keefe groaned. "Alyssa's out of control again."

"Is Alyssa sharing her fruitcake cookies?"

His brother shook his head. "Worse."

Kyle sat on the arm of Lexi's chair, a move so intimate that it threw her. "You've all met my beautiful neighbor, I take it."

"I love what you've done to the place, Kyle," Alyssa said and winked at Lexi.

"I had help," Kyle said.

"Really? I never would have guessed." Alyssa smiled. "And you can't distract me from my story, Kyle. But nice try."

Kyle sighed. "Okay. Which story are you spilling tonight?"

Alyssa laughed. "About the handsome warriors."

Kyle groaned.

"Didn't I warn you?" his brother said. "Come on, let's grab some eggnog."

Both men rose and, shaking their heads, left.

Totally intrigued, Lexi said, "I can hardly wait."

"Gabriella--that was their mother--was Italian, a beautiful dark-haired beauty, who fell for their father, Kelly Miller, this big Irish guy. He'll be here any minute and you'll see for yourself. Anyway, Gabriella absolutely fell in love with Irish names. Kelly stands for "warrior" and she gave each of her three sons the middle name of Kelly, after their father. And each of their first names--Keefe, Kenneth and Kyle--all mean a variation of handsome. She had a houseful of handsome warriors." Alyssa shrugged. "I think it's cute."

"Is the other brother as handsome as these two?"

As she spoke, Keefe and Kyle re-entered the room, carrying a tray with four glasses full of, she assumed, eggnog.

"Oh, Kenneth is definitely the cutest of the three. And much easier to get along with than Kyle."

Kyle caught Lexi's eye and smiled. "But I'm better at holding an interesting conversation. Kenneth has literally bored people to death before with his financial wizardry."

The doorbell rang.

"That must be Dad and Kenneth," Keefe said. "I'll get it."

In just a moment, two more handsome warriors entered the room, one young and incredibly good-looking, the older man rugged and striking. It was obvious the boys got at least part of their good looks from their father.

When Kenneth was introduced to Lexi, he held her hand for a long moment. "I am incredibly pleased to meet you."
Chapter Nine

Kyle watched his brother hanging onto Lexi's hand, and thought, uh-oh, it's happening again. Every time he found a good-looking woman who seemed to be interested in him, Kenneth stepped in and walked away with the woman. Even his one and only ex-fiancé had dated Kenneth a few times after their breakup.

But, then, Lexi was hardly his woman.

And now that Kenneth was here, Kyle wouldn't need to worry about his attention being taken up by this good-looking fun-to-be-around neighbor any more. Kenneth would no doubt monopolize her time.

Alyssa stepped up and linked her arm through Kyle's, and whispered in his ear. "It appears Kenneth finds your neighbor attractive."

"He finds every woman attractive."

"Yes, but this one is different, isn't she?"

Kyle looked into Alyssa's eyes. "What do you mean?"

She smiled and patted his arm with her other hand. "My dear brother-in-law, you haven't gotten it, have you? You need to get to know this woman better."

"I'll leave that up to Kenneth."

"Yeah, well, that's how you've always left it, isn't it? Don't you think it's about time you go for what you want, and not let Kenneth just take over out of default?"

"There's nothing to take over. Lexi is just an overzealous neighbor."

"Sure, she is." Alyssa nodded but the look on her face showed plainly that she didn't believe a word of it.

He didn't try to convince her again.

His father came over for a bear hug, and wrapped Kyle in his arms. "Good to see you again, Son."

"Glad you could make it, Dad."

His father pulled back and the sparkle was back in his faded blue eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't have missed this party for the world." He'd never quite lost that hint of Irish lilt in his voice, and the sound of it warmed Kyle.

When Kenneth finally released Lexi's hand, Kyle introduced her to his father.

"I am doubly glad to be meeting you, young lady." His father awkwardly touched her arm.

She smiled at his father, a sparkle in her eyes. "I am so glad to meet all of the handsome warriors in one room."

There was silence for a moment, and Lexi looked around as if to see if she'd said something wrong.

After the briefest pause, his father smiled. "That would be the honest truth. Now I don't suppose these sons of mine have told you I'm the most handsome of the lot, have they? And that I'm the most eligible bachelor of all?"

Kenneth laughed. "Dad, you are totally full of blarney this fine evening."

"Perhaps. And perhaps I speak only the truth."

A relieved look on her face, Lexi turned to Kyle. "I need to bring over the food from my ovens."

Before he could open his mouth to offer assistance, Kenneth said, "I'll help."

"Thanks," she said and looked at the rest of them. "I'll be right back."

"I'll come, too," Kyle said.

"We'll be fine," Kenneth said. "You just sit here and visit with the family."

Kenneth put his hand on Lexi's back as they left the house. Kenneth was always much too forward. His father should have taught him better than that. Then Kyle wouldn't be feeling this incredible sense of loss. He couldn't explain it. His brother was simply helping his neighbor carry food over from her house. But apparently his feelings went deeper than those for just a neighbor. He had to admit that Lexi had become a very good friend in only a few days. And he might like to take it further, but he wasn't inclined to dally with someone who lived right next door. He wasn't the settling down kind. After all, he was thirty years old and hadn't done so yet.

Keefe put a hand on his shoulder. "You know, Bro, it's interesting to see you and Lexi together in the same room."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You watch her like Dad used to watch Mama."

"No way." But he recalled having had nearly the same thought at her house the other night. It just made it more real to have someone else notice it.

"Denial won't do you any good. Besides, she's pretty. She's talented. She's famous. Heaven knows you need a famous girl to keep your big head in check." Keefe chuckled. "Don't worry. A few minutes with Kenneth will do her good. After she listens to him babble on about his investments for awhile, she'll realize that you're more than just a pretty face. The comparison will show you in a good light."

"She's just a neighbor." But he knew even as he said the words that they were a lie.

"Yeah, right. A neighbor who got you to invite your family home and decorate your house. She plays you."

Keefe was right. And so was Alyssa. It was time to beat Kenneth at his silly games. Kyle stood. "I'll go help carry the food over."

Keefe chuckled. "You do that."

* * *

Lexi watched Kyle's family eat her food and felt a deep sense of contentment and satisfaction. She loved dinner parties, and hosted them regularly. But this was the first one in a long time for a family---and, what's more, Kyle's family felt like family. They were warm and big and bumbling and loud. She and Trista and Steven fit right in, as though they belonged.

It had seemed like the ultimate challenge to help this holiday-challenged, Bah-Humbug!-type of man open up to the warmth of Christmas, but he'd responded wonderfully and easily, with just the slightest hint of fake blackmail on her part. She suspected that it wasn't so much her doing, as the fact that he must be ready to heal. Alyssa had said as much to her about her husband.

Kyle's father Kelly turned toward her. "This is one of the three best dinners of my whole life, young lady."

"Don't feel bad, Lexi," Kyle leaned toward her and said, "Mama's manicotti and eggplant parmigiana are the only things that beat you out."

Kenneth raised his glass of sparkling cider. "I hear you're the reason our scrooge of a brother invited us home for the holidays. You are a miracle worker in many areas, it seems."

"Thank you. Though it has truly been my pleasure. Thank you for sharing your family hospitality with me and my children. And now," she pushed back from the chair, "it's time for pies."

While an appreciative murmur worked its way around the table, Kyle jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked his chair over. "I'll help." Kenneth smiled at her, relaxed back into his seat, and winked at her. Was she missing something?

They were quiet as they walked across the lawn, dodging the ornaments they'd placed there--was it really only yesterday?\--and she wondered if his thoughts were as dangerous as her own. The warmth and coziness of the holidays, of fitting in with a family again, was a temptation almost more than she could resist. But she'd made that particular mistake once before. She couldn't make it twice.

But when he reached over and took her hand, she laced her fingers through his without a thought, as naturally as though she'd always known him, always cared. And when he let loose of her hand so she could find her keys and open the door, she was acutely aware of the loss.

As they stepped into her kitchen, he said, "You did a very nice thing tonight. Dinner was delicious. Why you'd go out of your way to feed so many strangers is beyond me. You truly do have the spirit of Christmas in your heart."

"You're making fun of me again, aren't you?" But he didn't sound mocking. He was looking at her as if he wanted to touch her again. And, heaven knows, she wanted him to.

And when he did reach for her hand again, taking it in his two, warmth spiraled up her arm.

"I may make fun of a lot of people, but I will never mock you for doing what you do best. You have brought a happiness into my house that hasn't been there before. You got my family laughing, and they haven't laughed together at Christmas time for a long time. Kenneth is right--you have created a miracle here."

His fingers drew circles in her palm and it was hard to catch her breath to say, "It has been a wonderful party. But that's because of your family."

He leaned in closer. "I think some of it has to do with a certain very nice, very talented, very pretty lady with a generous heart."

She looked into his eyes and couldn't say a thing. She, who made her living talking into the camera, couldn't think of a thing to say.

Slowly, he moved in a little closer. Was he going to kiss her?

Conflicting emotions warred within her. She wanted to kiss him but, oh, what that would do to complicate her life.

But she found herself leaning closer. She looked up into his eyes.

Only inches away, he seemed to catch himself, pulling back awkwardly.

Disappointed, she wondered why he'd stopped.

And she realized with dismay that she\--the woman determined she was never going to get involved with a man again, who had made a perfect adjustment with her kids after her divorce and was not going to change their lives--was falling for this man. This handsome warrior.

It wasn't just her kids falling under the spell of a famous author. She was doing it, too.

She was in big trouble.

Her first impulse was to flee, to let him handle his own family. But she couldn't. She'd promised him she'd help. She was trapped by her own powers of persuasion and her feeling of responsibility. If she hadn't convinced him to invite his family, she wouldn't have to be over there entertaining them, tonight and tomorrow and the next day.

She wouldn't go back on her word. But she could pull back emotionally. Physically. She took a step back shakily.

"Are you all right?" His own voice wasn't so steady, either. So he hadn't been as unaffected as he was trying to appear by that near kiss.

"I'm fine." She forced a smile. She couldn't get involved with Kyle Miller. She just couldn't. What's more, she wouldn't.

As they carried the pies back across the lawn, her mind raced. It was seven now. She'd make her excuses in another thirty minutes, after the pies. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve with his family, then Christmas Day. Kyle's family would be on their way back to their own homes by the twenty-sixth.

And by that same evening, she'd be back in her own home, safe and secure and single. Like a mantra, she repeated the words in her mind.

Safe and secure and single\--oh, so safely single.
Chapter Ten

THE DAY AND NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Jared had known all along that it was...

With a sigh, Kyle stared at the screen in front of him. He hadn't had a single thought of how to end this sentence--or the book. He'd never experienced such a crippling case of writer's block before. Maybe he was a four-book wonder, and the fifth was never going to happen. In fifty years, people would be asking him, white-haired and hobbling along on his cane, when the next book would be done. And he might still not have an answer for them.

A door creaked behind him and he jumped in his seat. He'd been so deep in the scene that the interruption sent his heart racing. He looked up, frown in place, ready to tell the kids to go back out.

But when the door swung open and it was Lexi peeking inside his study, he struggled to keep his frown in place. "I'm working in here."

"Don't you need a 'Famous Author Overworking' sign or something?"

He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the edge of the keyboard. He noticed she was keeping a lot of distance between them, ever since they'd nearly kissed last night. "Oh, like you've never overworked in your career. People who have television shows work normal hours, do they?"

"I put in a lot of hours. And I also know when to quit working and start playing."

"Well, I don't have time to play. I have a scene I must get done. And, when that one's done, I have another one waiting to take its place. I don't know when I'm going to get this book done."

"You'll get your book done. I know you will. You've completed all of the others, and you'll complete this one, as well. But maybe if you play for a couple of days, you'll be more creative afterward. I bet the words will just flow from you onto the paper." Lexi smiled. "I just want to let you know that we're outside having a blast, and you're welcome to join us. I happen to know you excel at this particular activity."

He sighed. "I'd really like to, Lexi. I would. It's just that if I don't get this book done by the deadline, I'm going to have a problem with my editor."

Lexi shrugged her shoulders. "Okay. See you later."

Just then, Lexi's kids burst through the door.

"Are you ever coming out here?" Trista asked in an exasperated tone.

"Be right there, sweetie," Lexi said, and turned back to him with another smile. "See you around. May I suggest that next time you don't schedule your deadlines so close to Christmas."

As if he had a choice over his deadlines.

She laughed and went outside with Steven, and shut the door behind her.

Trista remained behind, staring at his messy office. "So this is where you write about Jared, huh?"

"Yup."

"Cool."

She started to leave the room, but he called her back. "Would you answer a question?"

"Sure."

"Does your mother always do such fancy dinner parties?"

She shrugged. "For holidays, sure."

"Is there anything she cannot do?"

"That's easy." Trista laughed. "She absolutely positively cannot make fudge. She ruins it every time."

"Well, that's a comfort." He grinned. "Even I can make fudge."

After she left, Kyle sat in his now lonely office. Before, he'd been so deep in his book that he'd been oblivious to the world. Now he became aware of the life around him, as if Lexi brought this perspective to him. He could smell the wonderful scent of cinnamon wafting past his nose. He could hear the happy yells from outside.

He had never had a deadline so close to Christmas. Was that his problem? The whole Christmas thing from his past was here to block him?

And was it his own doing? With surprise, he realized it was. When his agent called, he'd been too darned proud to ask for more time, much less complain about less. He wasn't honest about his own needs--with others or with himself.

With a sigh, he turned back to his keyboard. Before he started typing, he glanced out the window.

His father, brothers, sister-in-law, niece and nephew, Lexi and her kids were all rolling snow into balls. There were already five snowmen started on his front lawn, scattered among the lighted reindeer.

When he realized she wanted him to make a snowman, he chuckled. Lexi saw him looking and motioned to him through the window. He wanted to go outside and join in the fun. But he had to be responsible. He had to finish this book.

He turned back to the screen and stared at it for a long moment. What was the use? He was typing--but he wasn't accomplishing anything. He just kept retyping the same scene, over and over, trying to make it work. Maybe she was right. Maybe a break would do him good.

He needed a break.

He'd do it. With one more glance outside at the enticing scene before him, he grabbed his winter gear. Bundling up, he opened the door and stepped outside to play.

* * *

As Kyle stepped outside, Lexi hid a smile at the look on his face. It was obvious he was torn. He must never let himself relax and enjoy life. Well, it was about time he tried it.

Steven and Justin rolled a huge snowball around the yard, laughing as they narrowly missed the reindeer. Trista and Jill were patting down their completed snowman, filling in bumpy spots with more snow and making their snowman perfect.

Keefe threw a snowball at Kyle and hit him squarely in the chest. "Welcome to the world of fun, Bro."

As Lexi rolled her large snowball, as it grew, she glanced at Kyle. He was watching her and smiled when he caught her eye. He held up the tiny snowball he'd patted together. She mouthed way to go.

When she figured her snowman's mid section was big enough, she hefted it, dropping it onto the bottom. "There," she said loudly. "I'm done."

"Ah, come on, Lexi." Kenneth put his hand on his hips. "I'm surprised a famous decorator like yourself doesn't know snowmen have heads."

"Unlike some real men I know," Alyssa tossed out.

Lexi laughed and glanced at Kyle again to make sure he was listening. He was. "Unfortunately there's a real nut case who's been going around the neighborhood taking the heads off snowmen. I'm not going to risk that. So mine is done as it is. Sleepy Hollow and the Headless Snowmen."

Quickly, Kyle covered his smile with a frown. "I heard it was justifiable snowman homicide."

Kenneth just shook his head. "It doesn't look right. But if that's the way you like your men, then you'd better stick with old Kyle here. He's the only one who'd lose his head if it wasn't attached."

A snowball slapped Kenneth in the back of the head. Laughing, he raised his index finger and said to Lexi, "Excuse me. I have something I need to take care of."

Then he was off at a run, scooping up snow and retaliating. Soon he and Kyle and Kenneth were all three exchanging zingers. The kids immediately joined in. Alyssa and Lexi worked their way to the relative safety of the porch.

* * *

Kyle aimed his snowball carefully, and it splatted on the house to the side of the women, who laughed. He stood ten feet away, tossing another snowball straight up and catching it as it fell, looking at Lexi in a calculated way.

She put her hands up as if to protect herself. "Oh, no, you don't."

Kyle tossed up the snowball again. Caught it. "Tell me why not."

Looking indignant, she put her hands on her hips. "Because I won't help you with your book if you do."

If anyone else had suggested helping him, if she hadn't been joking, he might have resented the offer. He grinned as he caught the snowball. "Like I need your help."

She smiled sweetly. "You never know when you'll need the help of a Dick and Jane expert."

He stepped toward her and she took off running. She'd taken less than a dozen steps when he grabbed her and they fell, rolling and laughing, into the snow.

Steven and Trista appeared as if by magic and joined the dog pile. It seemed right that they be here.

Moments later, the four of them lay back in the snow, laughing hard and trying to catch their breath.

Kyle hadn't enjoyed himself this much in years.

* * *

Lexi hadn't laughed this hard in a long time. And her kids hadn't, either. She sat up and brushed the snow from her coat.

Kyle looked at her for a long moment before he spoke. "Actually, I could use some help brainstorming part of my plot."

Trista's eyes grew wide. "Can I help, too?"

"Yeah, me, too." Steven dropped into the snow beside Kyle. "I'm a good reader."

Kyle ruffled Steven's hair and Steven stared adoringly up at Kyle. And Lexi realized things were happening too fast. Things were already changing for her and the kids. The perfect world she'd created was turning topsy turvy and rolling in the snow.

The thought excited her.

The thought terrified her.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Lexi snuggled into the afghan Kyle had wrapped around her shoulders. The kids sat on either side of her on the couch. Kyle stood by the family room fireplace and looked nervous.

Kenneth plopped down in a chair next to the couch. Keefe and his family pulled the comfortable chairs closer, in a circle, as though circling the wagons to keep away danger.

Their father sat in the recliner, his feet up.

Kyle wasn't used to hosting, but he wasn't totally inept. "I would like to thank you all for coming to my home this year for the holidays. And I would like to start a new tradition. I would like us all to open one gift tonight, and this year I bought a special gift for each of you for that purpose. Justin and Jill have agreed to help me."

Keefe's children handed out the gifts.

Justin handed a brightly wrapped gift to Trista. "This one's for you."

"I have a gift? Really?"

Lexi smiled at the sweet, surprised look on her daughter's face, and realized she wasn't the only one feeling the magic of family. Emotion caught at her throat.

Justin nodded. "And so does Steven and your mom."

"Wow," Lexi said and blinked back tears that burned her eyes. "The disgusting little elves must have been busy this holiday."

Kyle looked at her and smiled. "I want to thank you for all you've done the last few days. For the happiness you've brought to my family."

"Here, here," Kenneth raised his mug of hot cocoa, "I'll drink to that."

"You'll drink to anything," his father said in his pleasant Irish brogue. He raised his own mug to Lexi. "I thank you, as well. This has been a delightful celebration."

"You're welcome," Lexi said as Jill placed a large red-and-white, candy-cane-striped package in her lap. "And thank you."

Lexi glanced up, but she couldn't read the look on his face. Kyle was studying her intently. A slow smile lit his features. "I wasn't sure what blackmailers liked for Christmas, so I had to guess."

Lexi laughed as his brothers looked at them curiously.

"You're a blackmailer, too?" Kenneth raised an eyebrow. "You are multi talented, aren't you?"

"Go ahead," Kyle urged Lexi. "Open it."

Trista had already opened hers and squealed with delight when she saw the beautiful collector's doll.

Steven said, "Bad!" and then "Thanks, Kyle. How did you know I've been wanting a remote control race car?"

"I've got connections."

Lexi unwrapped her gift slowly, savoring the feel, though temporary, of belonging to a family at holiday time. She lifted the box lid and looked puzzled. "Fudge?"

He smiled, and Trista giggled. Lexi looked from one to the other.

"I heard it's the one thing you absolutely, positively can't do, so I decided to lend you a hand." He shrugged proudly. "I made it myself."

Lexi laughed. "Sure, you did."

When Kenneth touched her forearm lightly, his touch held none of the sizzle of his brother's. "Actually, Kyle has always made superb fudge."

"You're kidding, right?"

Even Alyssa nodded.

"Who knew?" Lexi laughed. "Thank you very much for the homemade fudge. Would anyone like a piece?"

"Oh, no, you don't. There's fudge for everyone else in the kitchen. This is yours." Kyle pointed toward the box. "Look underneath the fudge."

She raised the piece of cardboard holding the fudge. A beautiful gold chain nestled on the paper beneath with a little gold snowman charm. With a little gasp of surprise, of delight, Lexi looked up into Kyle's eyes.

A satisfied smile rested on his face. "I was hoping you'd like it."

"Like it?" she repeated. She loved it. But it was such an expensive gift, and she didn't know if that meant only that he could afford expensive gifts...or if it meant much more. "But--"

"No buts," Kyle's father said. "Young lady, didn't anyone ever tell you how to accept expensive gifts?"

She grinned. "I guess not."

Kenneth rolled out of his chair and onto his knees beside her. "May I?" he asked as he delicately lifted the chain, and said, in a falsetto, "Oh, Kyle, this is absolutely be-OOO-tiful. I'd like more of these. Lots more, please."

Everyone laughed.

With the chain again in her hands, Lexi mouthed 'thank you' to Kyle.

He mouthed 'you're welcome' back.

And she thought her heart had never been so full.

Keefe's wife opened her gift, and teased. "Thank you, Kyle. This is be-OOO-tiful, too." Alyssa held up a rose-colored sweater with embroidered pastel flowers. "This color reminds me of Mama."

And with that one mention of the woman Lexi would never meet, a heavy feeling settled over Kyle's family.

And over the happiness in Lexi's heart.
Chapter Eleven

Disappointed, Kyle realized the Christmas Eve curse was still here. He, his brothers, and his father all tried to pretend nothing had happened to ruin their holidays twenty-two years ago. And they always ended up ruining their current holidays.

Even Lexi's presence couldn't keep that particularly ugly holiday tradition at bay, the same one Alyssa had been fighting for years.

Sadness crept into his heart. He could tell his whole family was feeling it. He sat on the floor and leaned between the edges of Kenneth's chair and Lexi's couch.

Alyssa said, "I want to sing Mama's favorite song."

"Not yet." His father's voice cracked a little, and that brought the sadness even heavier into the room.

Kyle glanced up at Lexi and watched her look around at each of them. When he caught her eye, he attempted a smile, but was sure it didn't work well. She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes, and he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

Alyssa persisted. "I think we've gone too long putting these things off. That's part of the problem. We need to look at it. We need to feel it. And then we can remember Mama with happiness."

His father shook his head.

After a brief hesitation, Alyssa bucked the tradition and started to sing. "Silent night, holy night. All is calm, all is bright."

For long moments, Alyssa's soprano voice carried the melody alone. Then Lexi joined in with a lovely alto harmony line, followed by her slightly out-of-key kids. Then Justin and Jill.

Keefe took his wife's hand and choked out, "Silent night, holy night. Shepherds quake at the sight."

Finally, even Kenneth joined in.

Tears ran down his father's cheeks. And down Kyle's own. And then, Kyle found himself singing the last few words. "Christ, the Savior is born."

He hadn't seen his father cry for years. But his father was crying now.

"Silent night, holy night, Son of God, Love's pure light."

Kyle wiped the tears from his own cheeks.

As the last strains of the song--Jesus, Lord at thy birth\--faded, Kyle had a sudden desire to talk about Mama. A deep need. But he wasn't sure how his father would take it. His big tough Irish father, who still missed his mother so much he never spoke of her.

His father stood. "I can't do this. I'm going up to bed."

Suddenly Lexi spoke, her voice quiet but piercing in its emotion. "Mr. Miller, this is perhaps not my place to say, but sometimes you need to go back to that painful place before you can go past the pain and find any joy."

His father stared at her. "You are so young and so happy. What can you know of my pain at losing my wife?"

She smiled sadly. "I will share my own pain with you, if you will do me the honor of listening."

His father looked at her for a long moment, finally nodded, and sank back into his chair. He did not recline this time. "All right. Yes, I will listen."

She looked at Kyle as she took a deep, shuddering breath.

He reached over and took her hand in support of whatever she was going to share that raised such strong emotions in her, surprised at the strength of the protectiveness he felt toward her.

"When I was seventeen years old, my parents took a skiing trip. I stayed with my grandmother while they were gone. Driving back down the mountain afterward, they ran into a patch of black ice, and slid off the road. They were both killed. That was thirteen years ago."

Her voice cracked and she paused, and Kyle wished he could take away her pain. She continued. "I married in an attempt to recreate a family around me, but he wasn't family material."

"He made some cute family members, though." Kyle's father smiled sadly as he pointed at Trista and Steven. "It seems you have spent your entire life creating family. In your work, you create family. You create family for our family, even."

"I struggled with my pain for a long time. And I've struggled to support my family after my husband left. Ever since my parents died and especially after my grandmother died, I have wished with all my heart for a family. And I see your family and I think it's wonderful. But, no offense intended, all of you except Alyssa are too afraid to move past the pain to the joy of family you once had. That you could still have."

His father asked, in a small voice, "But how do we do that?"

A tear ran down Lexi's cheek. "I don't have all the answers. I would just like to share with you something about my parents and my loss."

She squeezed Kyle's hand. He squeezed back.

"I wish I could have my dad call me his little princess just one more time. And I'll always regret that my mother wanted me to go with her to choose a new outfit for their trip, but I was too busy with my friends and so I put her off. And now I can never help her choose anything again." She sighed, a wistful sound in the quiet room. "Sometimes I feel her here, with me, watching over me and the children, like a guardian angel. Everything I learned about celebrating for the holidays, I learned from watching my mother. I decorate for her."

The room was quiet for a long time. Finally, Alyssa said, "I remember the wonderful meals Mama used to cook. I used to love when you guys would invite me over for dinner. And, oh, her singing. I got my love of opera from your Mama."

Kyle would burst if he didn't speak of Mama. His voice cracked. "I miss having her tuck me in. I realize that I'm too old to tuck in now--but I missed that for so many years, growing up. I miss having a mother to call when I have good news--or bad, either one."

Sadness overwhelmed him, but this time he let it well up inside him instead of pushing it down. He was tired of fighting it.

Lexi squeezed his hand and he glanced up at her, grateful. Trista put her head on his shoulder. Steven took hold of his sleeve.

Kyle took another deep breath and decided to face the pain. To remember. To talk about her. Finally. "I remember going hunting with Grandpa the day before Christmas. When we got back, the ambulance was in the driveway, and they took her away."

Tears slid down Kyle's face, and he let them flow. He'd held them back for twenty-two years. Keefe was right. That was long enough to mourn. Too long. He spoke again. "And I remember Mama telling me that I needed to grow up just like Papa, because he was such a good man."

His father put his hand up to his chin, trying to regain control over his emotions, and not succeeding.

Keefe said, quietly, "I regret that I didn't put Mama's angel on the tree when she asked. By the time I put it up, she wasn't here to see it." His voice choked up and he began to cry.

After a moment, through his tears, he watched the corners of Keefe's mouth slowly curl up. "And I remember Mama's Christmas Eve dinner, and I miss having her cook all that food for us. And I remember her singing, too. She had such a lovely voice."

Alyssa took her husband's hand and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Kenneth sighed and shifted in his seat. "I remember opening my gift from Mama, and how weird it was, with her already gone, but there I was, opening her present."

The emotion in Kenneth's voice and the memory tore at Kyle's heart, and he said, "Me, too."

"And I remember," Kenneth continued in a shaky voice, "how she would always write a note and put it into my lunch box. Every day. Some silly thing that I would have died rather than let any of my friends see. I still have some of those notes."

Kyle cried. So did Kenneth. And Keefe. They all had those notes of love from long ago.

Finally his father spoke, his voice halting and cracking. "She wanted us to go to church that Sunday before Christmas, but I said I wasn't in the mood to go. And then the next week we were all in church for her funeral." His voice broke. "And I remember how beautiful she was. My beautiful Gabriella. I miss her so much."

Justin and Jill went and sat with their grandfather, and he wrapped his big arms around them.

This was the worst of times.

And, for the first time in twenty-two years, Kyle could feel that it could become the best of times. If they could just let go of the hurt and the regrets and remember the good.

Lexi had brought him that.

She'd brought healing into his heart and to his entire family.

This was a Christmas he'd always remember.

And Lexi was a woman he never wanted to forget.

* * *

A long time afterward, Kyle carried Steven, who'd fallen asleep, as he walked Lexi and Trista home. He was so quiet, she had no idea how he felt. She'd bared her soul tonight, and so had he. Their emotions were raw. They seemed to be moving toward something more, something involving a commitment, but this was no time for her to be making new commitments.

She'd made that mistake once before, marrying because she was hurting so much over losing her parents.

Kyle waited for her to unlock her door, then he stepped inside. "Which way to his bed?"

Trista said, "I'll show you."

Lexi watched as the two of them climbed the stairs, Trista with her hand on Kyle's arm. This just felt so right. She wasn't a young, lonely kid any more. She was a woman who'd been tested and tried and made it on her own. She had two children to protect. And she'd been ready to do that.

But she didn't feel they needed protecting from Kyle. For the first time since her grandparents died, since Grandma had gone to join them, she felt complete. Safe. Like she was finally...home. She felt safe with him. And she felt as though her children were safe, too.

As she busied herself in her kitchen, mixing up three more cups of hot chocolate, she listened to Kyle's and Trista's low voices and laughter as they came back down the stairs. When he caught sight of Lexi, his face lit up in a smile.

He stepped up to her, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and spoke in a low voice that made her shiver. "Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome."

"I mean what you did for my family. You and Alyssa together. My father is right. You create family wherever you are." His voice was soft and gentle. He was a tender-hearted handsome warrior.

That's just what the maiden in distress in her had always felt she needed. Now she wasn't sure of anything any more. She teased with him, "You were definitely a huge challenge."

Trista nudged Kyle's arm. "Come on. Tell her what you saw."

Kyle laughed. "I have it on good authority that the perfect Alexis Anderson is human, after all. You do realize blackmail goes both ways, don't you?"

Puzzled, she looked back and forth between the two of them. "What did you see?"

Trista said, "I was telling him which bedroom was Steven's, but he opened the wrong door and--"

"I saw your boxes," he said gravely. "Your entire house looked fantastic within one day, but you have a bedroom with unpacked boxes. Do you know how pleased that makes me?"

She smiled. "Actually, I have two bedrooms full of boxes."

"Even better. Now, how long does a man have to wait to get another piece of pie around here?"

Trista said, "You are such a pig."

* * *

Back home, Kyle couldn't sleep. He was emotionally drained from feeling his hurt and regrets, but he was also buzzing from time spent with Lexi.

Trying not to disturb the others sleeping in his house, he stepped into his office, turned on the computer and started to type.

Her biggest challenge. It was the second time she'd told him that. Her words rang in his ears. In his heart. He wanted to be more than a challenge. Much more.

He'd thought his biggest challenge was to finish this book. But he suspected it was going to be figuring out how to fit Lexi Anderson into his life. And how to convince her that she belonged there.

The words flowed from him. He worked for close to three hours, and got the last three scenes done. The three he'd been struggling with for weeks. The three that hadn't worked before, but now did, effortlessly.

Lexi'd been right about that, too.

He'd always clung so tightly to the work, that he'd never realized he needed the relaxation. That by relaxing he could work better. Besides, she'd help him learn that if you were going to have writer's block anyway, you might as well play.

He hoped he could remember that.

He typed the last paragraph.

Jared had always known it was the gardener, Lefty Sims. He'd just never been able to convince the police of it. He smiled at Melinda. "Want to go grab a Coke?" he asked. "As a reward for us discovering the murderer, that is?"

He went into the header and changed his working title from Strong5 to the new one he'd decided on, smiled, and set his printer to work.

With a satisfied breath, he sat back. He was done. Sure, he'd have to reread the entire book a couple more times, but the bulk of the task was done.

He'd always been afraid he couldn't have a career and a happy married life, both. But with wonder he realized he could do both. He had just needed the right woman.

Lexi.

In that instant, he realized he loved her. Incredibly, in such a short time. Without a doubt. He wanted her in his life. Forever. He was finally ready to settle down and create a family--with an expert.

If she'd have him.

How could he convince her?

An idea formed in his mind. A crazy, silly, sentimental idea.

It involved a snowman.

And maybe, if he could wake Steven and Trista early enough, they could help him put the finishing touches on everything.

If they agreed to his plan. If they wanted him in their mother's live. In their lives.

And, if his plan went the way he wanted, he would find out just how good his connections were.

Late as it was, he didn't hesitate to lift the phone and dial the number of an old friend.
Chapter Twelve

VERY EARLY CHRISTMAS MORNING

Feeling like an idiot, Kyle tossed pebbles at Steven's bedroom window.

One pinged hard. It would be just his luck to break the glass or to wake Lexi.

When Steven finally peeked out the window, Kyle motioned for him to be quiet, and to come down to let him in. Kyle stood at the front door for only a moment before Steven opened it.

The boy looked at him sleepily and whispered, "What are you doing up so early? It's only five-thirty."

"I know. Isn't it exciting? It's Christmas morning."

Steven rubbed his eyes. "I'll go wake Mom."

"No, no, don't do that. Wake Trista instead. I need to ask you both a question."

Steven shook his head as he disappeared inside and came down a few minutes later with his sister, who was also yawning.

Kyle knelt on the tile and took each of them by the hand. "I have something really important to ask you. You know I really like your mother, don't you?"

Trista rolled her eyes. "Double duh."

Steven yawned and nodded.

"Well, I want to ask your mother to marry me, but I also want to make sure that's okay with you two before I ask her."

Steven's eyes shone. "Sure."

Trista said, "I knew it!"

"But do you like the idea? Do you approve?"

"I love it," Trista said. "And I definitely approve."

"Kyle Miller is going to be my new dad," Steven said. "The kids at school will never believe it."

"But what if I never ever wrote about Jared Strong again. What if I never had. Would you still want me to marry your mom?"

"Oh, yeah. And I can hardly wait when I introduce you as my new dad to friends at my birthday party." Steven grew serious. "Is it okay if I call you Dad?"

Kyle's heart jumped and love for this little boy filled him. "You bet. Can I call you son? And daughter?"

They both nodded, their eyes sparkling with excitement.

"I need help putting my plan into action this morning. Would you two like to be my elves?"

They both nodded again.

"Okay, go get dressed, and put on your coats and gloves and boots. And whatever you do, do not wake your mother."

* * *

Lexi yawned and glanced at the clock. Nine o'clock.

It took a moment for the meaning of that to hit.

What on earth? It was Christmas morning and her kids had let her sleep in until nine o'clock? This had never happened before. Last night must have worn them out, too.

She pulled on her robe and silly pink bunny slippers and wandered down the hall to wake them. Pushing open Steven's door, she called out, "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Except Steven's bed was empty.

So was Trista's.

They must be downstairs playing with their Santa gifts, which this year were an iPod for Trista and a new bike for Justin.

As she descended the stairs, she couldn't hear anything, but the children had never been this quiet before on Christmas morning.

No one was in the living room, either, or the kitchen. She called out their names, but no one answered. Now she was beginning to worry.

Suddenly, there was music coming from the front lawn. Were the kids playing music outside? How weird.

The music got very loud.

Sleigh bells ring.

Lexi crossed to the front door and opened it.

What an incredible sight greeted her.

Her children stood there, along with Kyle, Keefe and Alyssa and their kids, Kenneth, and Kyle's dad.

They'd built a family of snowmen close to her front porch.

A boom box blared out the Christmas song.

Neighbors opened doors, and began wandering this way, undoubtedly drawn by the music.

Or the chance to see her in her lovely terry cloth bathrobe. She pulled the belt tight and ran her fingers through her messy hair.

Kyle grinned and waggled an eyebrow.

Lexi counted five snowmen. She grinned mischievously at Kyle. "They all have heads. Obviously not your handiwork."

Trista wrapped her arms around one of the shorter ones. "This is me and that one's Steven." She pointed to the other short one on the opposite side.

In between the short ones were three she recognized instantly. A snowman with a bow tie stood on the left and, on the right, a snow bride was adorned with a bride's veil. Their branch arms were intertwined as though holding hands. Slightly behind them stood another snowman, with a bible in his twig hands.

Keefe stood beside that one. "This one is Parson Brown."

Kyle said, "This one is me. See, he has a completed manuscript." He took the pages and handed it to her. It was titled Jared Strong and the Mystery of the Snowman Killer. "I finished it last night. Thanks to your inspiration."

"That's wonderful," she said and hugged it to her chest, a magical feeling of love surrounding her.

"And this one is you."

As the Christmas music continued to play, Kyle took her hand and led her to the snow-bride.

The warmth grew in her chest. Amazed, she asked. "When did you do all this?"

"Early this morning. And lucky thing your kids got up early, too, and decided to help me. I think they agree it would be a good idea if we get married."

She stared at him, uncertain. "Are you proposing?"

He laughed gently. "Set to Christmas music, of all unimaginable things."

Trista said, "Mom, look at the nose."

"You nose I love you," Kyle said.

Lexi gasped. Around the carrot was a ring. An impressive diamond engagement ring. "When did you buy a ring?"

"Like I said, I have good connections. A jeweler friend named Franklin, who will be high on our wedding list." Kyle dropped down on one knee and took her hand. "Will you be my wife, Alexis Anderson?"

Warmth filled her and she knew, in that instant, that he was the man for her--and her children. Without a doubt.

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close. She already knew her answer. She'd healed enough that she wasn't being influenced by her need for family. He really was the man for her. "Yes."

Trista and Steven joined the hug. The neighbors clapped. Kyle's family cheered.

Kyle lifted a sprig of mistletoe. "Does this stuff really work?"

In answer, Lexi kissed him while the music played on.

It really was a winter wonderland.

"Geez, Mom," Steven said. "Come up for air."

Lexi and Kyle pulled apart, grinning and holding hands.

And, as Lexi took in the snowman scene before her again, it looked for one instant as though Parson Brown winked.

It must have been her imagination.

The End

Thank You!

I hope you enjoyed reading Bah, Humbug! If you have a moment, I'd appreciate if you'd share this story with other readers and take a minute to leave a review. Thanks.

If you'd like to read more of my books, Old Money is now available. For more information about my newest book and future books, please visit www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com to sign up for my mailing list.

Thanks again, Heather.

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Diane Darcy and Kristin Holt; it was fun putting our heads--and novellas--together.

Thanks to Michael for the original snowman. You're awesome.

About the Author

Raised overseas by her shop-til-you-drop mother and pay-for-the-purchases oilman father, avid mystery and romantic comedy lover Heather read her way through Colombia, Venezuela, London, Kuwait, and Iran--and later bought a video store so she could watch stories on the little screen, too.

She loves anyone who can make her laugh, which explains why she adores her witty husband, her funny friends, Anne George mysteries, Bill Cosby, and her cute little dog Gus. She loves to cook for friends, siblings, and especially her children and stepchildren and their families. She and her husband reside in Utah. You can find her husband reside in Utah. You can find her online at www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com.

Books by Heather Horrocks

Who-Dun-Him Inn Mystery Series:

Snowed Inn #1

Rest Inn Peace #2 (2012)

Bad Mothers Club Mystery Series:

The Bad Mothers Club #1

The Bad Mothers Dress to Kill #2 (2012)

Chick Flick Clique Romantic Comedy Series:

While You Were Stranded (2012)

Bear Foot in the Park (2012)

My Spare Lady (2012)

Other Romances:

Old Money

No Sudden Moves

Baby Mine

Inspirational Books:

Women Who Knew the Mortal Messiah

Men Who Knew the Mortal Messiah

Women & Men Who Knew the Mortal Messiah

LDS Romances / Baptism Book:

You Just Turned 8: An LDS Baptism Book (2012)

How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini

Old Maid of Honor

Dinosaur Ball (Valentine's Day Novella)

For previews of upcoming books by Heather Horrocks, to sign up for New Releases email, or for more information about the author, visit www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com.

Excerpt from While You Were Stranded (the first Chick Flick Clique)

After her mother's death leaves 26-year-old Grace Holden without family, she decides to drive up the west coast to a town in Oregon they talked about moving to before her mother fell ill, hoping it feels like home. When her car breaks down outside Aspen Grove, California, the town's mechanic takes her to Candy's Café--where they run into his ex-fiancée and he impulsively claims Grace is his date. Unaware that his words and her mother's ring have set tongues wagging, Grace is unexpectedly charmed by the town, its occupants, and the warm welcome she's receiving. When she learns what people think, the mechanic begs her to pretend to be his fiancée, just until her car is repaired, to help him win back his girl by making her jealous. When the repairs unexpectedly stretch into weeks, the charade becomes more complicated as she finds herself drawn to the townspeople--and especially to Jake Taylor, Aspen Grove's handsome mayor and the brother of Ethan's ex-fiancée Lindsey. Jake is understandably antagonistic and suspicious and protective of his sister, even as he is attracted to this new woman in town. Before Grace knows it, she has a place to stay, a temporary job, and invitations to join the Chick Flick Clique and to help with the town's Christmas Festival. With friends filling the void in Grace's heart, Aspen Grove is beginning to feel like the home she wants, but will her part in the deception cost her the good will--and perhaps even love--of people she's come to care about?

### Chapter One

As Grace Holden's car skidded across the snowy highway, she steered in the opposite direction, her fingers clenched white against the wheel. The rear end shimmied for a second before the wheels grabbed traction. Her heart pounding with adrenaline, she slowed even more, down to forty.

In the past fifteen minutes, visibility had dropped to maybe twenty feet ahead of her.

The last night she'd expected in central California was snow, especially blizzard quality. It was much too surfer state for the white stuff. She hadn't seen a single snow flake during the past five years she'd lived in LA.

Tears burned her eyelids. She couldn't think about LA or the past five years or her mother. A few blinks and multiplication tables to distract herself with--twelve times twelve is one-hundred and forty-four\--and the threatening tears subsided.

Keeping one hand clenched on the steering wheel, she pushed in her flasher button. A sports car zipped past her with an apparent idiot at the wheel.

Snow drifted across the painted lines on the highway. A sign appeared along the roadside, and she slowed even more as she struggled to make out the words.

Aspen Grove, California

Population: 2,500

Home of the Christmas Festival

3 miles

Grace'd been hoping to reach San Francisco today and cross the Oregon border tomorrow, but she hadn't planned on this freak storm. With her knuckles white on the wheel and adrenaline singing through her veins from the skid, she'd be glad to reach this smal town to seek shelter.

Without taking her eyes off the road, she reached out and cranked up the heat. The temperature was dropping along with the snow.

This storm looked more like Christmas in Minnesota than October in the sunshine state.

Maybe, if Grace was really lucky, by the time she actually reached Aspen Grove, she'd be past the worst of the storm, and then she could continue on her way to Port Orchard.

The car lurched again and she corrected. "Come on, Ava, hang in there," she muttered to her Toyora Avalon. "We can make it."

The wind shifted, shooting snow directly into the windshield, and she reduced her speed again. Finally, when she was barely crawling along at twenty and still struggling to see through the barrage of fat, wet flakes, the car slid again. Instinctively, she turned the wheel, but it fishtailed again, and she turned the wheel the other direction to regain control.

But it didn't work.

The car slid toward the shoulder of the road.

Officially out of control, Ava hit a cement barrier with a sickening crunching sound, enough of an impact to slam Grace hard against the seat belt but not enough to deploy the airbag.

At least she was off the shoulder of the road, out of the path of other drives who couldn't see through the snow, either.

Silence blanked everything. The headlights flickered and went out, along with the dashboard illumination and the sounds of ABBA.

She took a moment to decide if she was hurt. Her shoulder ached where the seat belt had hit her and she'd probably gotten bruised. Other than that, nothing seemed broken or injured.

Waiting a moment for the adrenaline to fade, she lifted a stiff-trembling hand to restart the car. She needed to reach someplace warm.

When she turned the key, there was a click-click-clicking sound, but the car didn't start. After three more frantic tries, she realized it wasn't going to. She'd damaged her car. The Avalon was ten years old, but it had served her faithfully during her flush yeras and those more lean years taking care of her mother.

Eleven times nine is ninety-nine.

Had Ava really wheezed her last for the day? If so, Grace was stranded. And she still had a long, long way to go. Even Aspen Grove was nearly three miles away, much too far to walk in this storm.

A damaged car. Not much money. And now no heater. If she sat here long enough, maybe she'd turn into a popsicle. Popsicles didn't have many worries. Yeah, right. Until they got eaten.

Her heart sinking, Grace pulled out the new phone she'd bought just yesterday, relieved to see that there was 3G service here despite the storm, if one measly half-bar of service counted. Her fingers were already so cold she had trouble getting the touch screen to work. She blew on her fingertips and tried again.

When the Google screen popped up, she typed in Aspen Grove, California. A picturesque website popped up promising a winter Christmas festival and summer grapes and sunshine. She could use a little sunshine right about now.

She searched the site for the phone number for City Hall.

In a town of 2,500, surely there was at least one honest mechanic they could recommend, someone who would be willing to come out in a snow storm to rescue a damsel in distress.

Five times nine is forty-five.

\--- If you'd like to read more, go to www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com \---
Excerpt from The Christmas Star by Diane Darcy

When an old woman makes a wish upon a Christmas star, miracles start to happen. A manipulative angel and a zany Christmas season are exactly what it takes to get Jake and Elsie in the same vicinity again. But can they forgive each other and forget old resentments and hurts? Well, Christmas is a perfect time for miracles. Throw in the hunt for the perfect tree, a sledding competition and a desperate-for-grandchildren mother, and you have the perfect recipe for...love?

### Chapter One

"Where are you going?"

"I've got to feed the sheep." Marilyn Banks pulled the side door closed, shutting out the sounds of both The Laurence Welk Show, and her husband.

The cold Wyoming air bit into her and she pulled the zipper on her fleece coat up a few notches before moving forward to grip the cold metal rail. The screen door slammed shut behind her as she carefully made her way down the frosted stairs.

An arthritic pain shot through her right knee, so she turned and went down the stairs in an awkward, crab-like way to relieve the discomfort. Lord, what a way to live. Seventy-one and feeling like ninety.

She made her way to the side of the barn, stopped beside the wooden fence and looked out over the barren pasture. At her appearance, three winter-wooly sheep made their way toward her. She filled a bucket with corn from the shed, gave them some molasses water, then plucked the pitchfork from where it lay against the side of the barn. She shoveled some alfalfa over the fence, but just a bit at a time because her strength wasn't what it used to be. Finishing, she cupped both hands over the top of the pitchfork and settled back to watch the sheep eat. The two lambs had been born in the spring, and although grown, were still full of spunk and sass. She watched the three of them feed, butting against each other, their antics making her smile. "Lucky little critters," she said. "If I hadn't been reading the good book and come to the part about the shepherds in the field, I'd have forgotten about you altogether."

They bleated a bit in response, but mostly just ate. She breathed in the cold, crisp air, and glanced around, taking in the beautiful night. She'd forgotten to turn on the outside lights, but the moon seemed very bright tonight, so she could see quite clearly. The snow had almost melted, but it was only December first, so plenty of time yet for a white Christmas. She glanced up, and her mouth literally fell open.

There was no moon out tonight. A star, bright and shining lit up the sky above. It was bigger and brighter than any star she'd ever seen.

Her skin broke out in gooseflesh that had nothing to do with the cold. She'd just been reading the Christ story in the bible, and couldn't help the thoughts that suddenly slid into her mind.

Here she was, out by the barn with the sheep, and the biggest and brightest star she'd ever seen in her life was shining down on her. There must be some kind of meaning to it all.

As she looked up at the star, a feeling of peace settled over her. Maybe it was a sign. A sign just for her. An indication that the wish dearest to her heart would come true.

Feeling a pang of embarrassment at her foolishness, she glanced down and replaced the pitchfork. Well, whatever it was, she was too old and too tired to stand out here in the cold and figure it all out. She turned to go, then stopped.

Old she might be, but she wasn't stupid. It was December, there was a big star in the sky, and if there was a chance that this was supposed to mean something to her personally, then she wasn't messing it up. She'd already messed up too much in her life. She was going to make a wish on that star.

Closing her eyes, she thought about all the things in her life that could use some help, then smiled. Of course she knew exactly what she was wishing for, but simply wanted to prolong the moment. She opened her eyes and looked up at the star. "I wish that my husband, my daughter and Jake could forgive each other this Christmas season."

The star continued to shine just as brightly.

Slowly, this time with hope filling her heart, she made her way back to the house.

And missed seeing the star twinkle in the sky.

* * *

Standing outside her car, in the freezing December weather, Elsie Banks glared at the sack of chocolate chip cookies that had slipped to the floor of her Acura. Arms loaded with groceries, dry cleaning, briefcase and purse, a stack of mail in one hand and keys in the other, she was definitely not in the mood for this. There were two steep flights of stairs to her apartment, and she was not making another trip down. She continued to glare. She needed those cookies.

Hooking the key ring onto her thumb, she bent her knees and leaned into the car sideways, balancing both grocery sacks. Carefully she retrieved the cookie bag with her index and middle finger, slowly straightened, and breathed a sigh of relief. She shut the car door with one hip, turned and headed for the stairs.

What a day. Chicago traffic had been a nightmare and the pharmaceuticals company she worked for a mad house. She was exhausted. In charge of the staff meeting in the morning, she'd stayed late to finish preparing. Now she had a million things at home to catch up on, but all she wanted to do was relax, finish reading a romance novel, and eat the entire bag of chocolate chip cookies.

She was breathing heavily by the time she stood outside her apartment door. Wriggling the key into the doorknob, then the dead bolt, she managed to push into her apartment before dropping items on the floor.

Her two cats came running toward her as she kicked the door closed. "Hi, babies." They followed her into the kitchen and she grinned. "Hungry?" She set the mail and groceries on the table and opened a couple of cans of cat food as the animals rubbed against her legs.

While they were happily eating, she popped a TV dinner into the oven, put away the groceries, then sat at the kitchen table and sorted through the stack of mail. Junk mail, a couple of bills, a Christmas card from an old high school friend in Wyoming, and a seminar notice.

She lifted the postcard. A man named Gabriel Christensen was putting on a seminar. How to get organized, get focused, and get the life you really want.

She shook her head. Not even a little bit interested. Flicking the postcard into the trash, she opened her file folder and placed the bills in the appropriate slots. She was already organized, focused, and had the life she wanted. She didn't need anyone telling her how to do it.

She opened the Christmas card and Sallie Johnson, her husband and three children smiled back at her. Elsie's heart wrenched as unexpected pain washed through her. She closed her eyes briefly. She wouldn't let this distress her. She had a wonderful job, great friends, and a fabulous life. She dated. If she wanted to be married with three kids, she would be. Still could be. There was plenty of time. Thirty-two wasn't exactly over the hill. And she was always being complimented on her long dark hair and brown eyes. It wasn't as if she were dog meat or anything. Just choosy.

She opened her eyes and looked at Sallie's oldest child. He must be at least ten years old now. If Elsie had married Jake--

She snapped the card closed, unwilling to let her thoughts go there. It didn't matter anymore. She had exactly the life she wanted, and she was happy. Very happy. Fulfilled. Contented.

A sudden yearning for home filled her. She tried to push the feeling aside. She'd been home last month and it had been uncomfortable. She had no plans to visit again anytime soon. Standing, Elsie hung the Christmas card in the archway above the kitchen entrance with the few others she'd already received and gazed up at them. Since it was already December second, she really ought to get her own cards into the mail.

After checking the TV dinner, she pulled Christmas cards and addresses out of the appropriate files, and dug into her purse for her favorite pen. Her hand clasped a small, thick piece of paper and she pulled it out. Another seminar notice. How strange. She didn't remember putting it there.

She chucked it in the trash on top of the other notice and continued to look for her pen. When she didn't find it, she went into the living room and checked her coat pocket. Her hand clasped a thick piece of paper, about the size of a postcard, and chills ran up her arm. Slowly, she pulled out the paper.

Another seminar notice.

The hair at the base of her neck stood up. What the heck was going on here? Sunday school class, the bible, the Lord works in mysterious ways, and teachings from her childhood flashed through her mind. Was she meant to go to this conference? Was someone trying to tell her something? She continued to stare at the notice, then gave her head a quick shake and released the breath she was holding.

What was she thinking? It was amazing how quickly she could revert to irrational childhood beliefs. Having a mother who'd read the bible every day of Elsie's life was still affecting her. No doubt someone from work was playing a joke. Teasing about her organizational skills. She'd get razzed in the morning.

As Elsie walked to the trash, she tore up the notice, then let the pieces flutter into the garbage. Symbolically she brushed off her hands. One thing was for certain. She was not going to the seminar.

\--- If you'd like to read more, go to www.DianeDarcy.com \---

Thanks again.

I hope you enjoyed the read.

Heather Horrocks
