Silver Bells

Books by Fern Michaels

About Face • Annie’s Rainbow • Celebration • Charming Lily • Collateral Damage • Comfort and Joy • Dear Emily • Deck the Halls • Fast Track • Finders Keepers • Fool Me Once • Free Fall • The Future Scrolls • The Guest List • Hide and Seek • Hokus Pokus • Jingle All the Way • The Jury • Kentucky Heat • Kentucky Rich • Kentucky Sunrise •Let It Snow • Lethal Justice • Listen to Your Heart •Payback • Picture Perfect • Plain Jane • Sara’s Song • Sugar and Spice • Sweet Revenge • Up Close and Personal • Vegas Heat • Vegas Rich • Vegas Sunrise • Vendetta • Weekend Warriors • What You Wish For • Whitefire • Wish List • Yesterday

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

FERN MICHAELS

Silver Bells

JoAnn Ross

Mary Burton

Judy Duarte

KENSINGTON BOOKS

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter One

Amy Lee stood at the railing on the second floor of her palatial home in Malibu, staring down with quiet intensity at her guests, mostly employees and a few acquaintances. The occasion was her annual Christmas party. Why she even bothered she had no idea.

It had taken a crew of four three whole days to decorate the house from top to bottom. Another crew of three to decorate the outside. Christmas trees in every room, huge wreaths with red satin bows over all the mantels. Gossamer angels floated from ceiling wire, while a life-size stuffed Santa complete with a packed sleigh and a parade of elves circled the floor-to-ceiling fireplace that separated the great room from the dining room. The focal point of all the decorations.

The mansion was festive to the nth degree, and she hated every bit of it. She could hardly wait for midnight, when she handed out the gifts and bonus checks, at which point the guests would make a beeline for the door, having done their duty by attending the festivities.

Amy rubbed at her temples. She’d had a raging headache all day, and it looked like it was going to stay with her throughout the night. She knew she had to go back downstairs, paste a smile on her face, and somehow manage to get through the next hour. For the hundredth time she wished she was anywhere but here. Here was California. While she lived in Malibu, she worked in Hollywood, where she and all the other movie stars worked. Phony and superficial Hollywood—just like most of the people she worked with. But she’d learned how to play the game, and it was a game. If you wanted the star status that she had, you learned quickly what the rules were. And then you stuck to them.

Amy always told herself she would know when it was time to get out. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected the time was now. At thirty-three she was fast approaching has-been status. New, rowdy, outrageous, flamboyant starlets were giving the paparazzi a run for their money in their bid for stardom, and it was working. It seemed like the world couldn’t live another day unless they read about one of the starlet’s underwear or lack thereof, or getting busted for drunk driving while underage or of age, then signing autographs for the arresting officers or going to jail for ignoring the law. Autographs to the highest bidder as they were being fingerprinted. Translation—big bucks at the box office.

She wasn’t a prude, but she’d always prided herself on a certain decorum befitting her celebrity. She didn’t flit from affair to affair, she didn’t drink and drive, she didn’t do drugs, and she absolutely refused to do nude sex scenes in her movies. One of the tabloids recently called her dull and said she wouldn’t know what excitement was or an adrenaline rush if it hit her in the face. They were right.

Amy looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was a plain Armani scarlet sheath befitting the holidays, with a slit up the leg. It draped perfectly over her body. Just the right neckline, just the right amount of sleeve. She’d walked the red carpet enough to know she looked glamorous in her sparkling gown. Just like all her female guests looked glamorous. Once she’d heard a rumor that if you wanted to attend an Amy Lee party, you had better dress down. At the time she’d thought it funny. Now, it wasn’t funny. Why was that?

Her head continued to throb each time she put her foot on one of the steps. Thank God she’d made it to the bottom without her head splitting open. She walked among her guests, chatted, patted arms, smiled, and even giggled at something one of her employees said. She risked a glance at her watch. Fifty minutes to go. Three thousand seconds. It felt like a lifetime.

It dawned on Amy that she’d been so busy with the party details that she hadn’t eaten a thing all day. Maybe if she ate something, the headache would go away.

Amy made her way over to the buffet table. Earlier in the evening it had looked gorgeous, with a Christmas tree ice sculpture nestled in a circle of bright red poinsettias. The matching red candles had long ago burned down. Red candle wax pooled on the white tablecloth. The lobster and shrimp in their ice bowls, what was left of it, looked watery. The turkey and roast beef looked dry. The champagne fountain was as dry as the turkey and roast beef. She felt a surge of anger. Where were the people she’d hired to take care of the table? Outside smoking cigarettes, that’s where. Did it even matter? When the last guest left, maybe she’d scramble herself some eggs.

Forty minutes to go. Two thousand four hundred seconds. What she should do was go to the sleigh, pretend her watch was fast, and start handing out the presents and the bonus checks. There were expensive token gifts for the other guests, so they wouldn’t feel left out. Boy/girl gifts. Tomorrow it would be all over TMZ, Page Six, and anywhere else the gossips gathered. It was all part of playing the game.

Amy moved closer to the sleigh, touched her secretary’s arm, and whispered. Word spread, and the guests started to mince their way toward the sleigh.

Twenty minutes later it was all over, and she was standing at the door wishing the last guest a Merry Christmas. Two weeks early, the last guest pointed out. “But then, my dear, you always were ahead of the curve.” Amy forced a smile and stood in the open doorway until the last car pulled away from the driveway. The valet boys waved and walked down the driveway.

Amy turned to go inside when she looked at her oversize magnificent front door. She loved everything about the house, but the front door was special. She’d had it made of mahogany and gone to great lengths to find a lumber mill to round it out so that it looked like a cathedral door. Anytime she had been interviewed at home, the reporters had taken pictures of her front door. A memory. She was going to miss it. Her eyes burned when she looked at the huge silver bells attached to a glorious red satin bow. The bells were hammered silver, specially made. The tone was so pure, so melodious, it always brought tears to her eyes when they rang. Another memory. Maybe she’d take the bells with her.

Amy closed the huge door and locked it. Now she could relax. First, though, she walked about, turning off lights. The buffet table had been cleared and carried away. There was still noise in the kitchen, but she ignored it. She kicked off her heels and made her way to the sofa. She sat down, leaned back, and closed her eyes. It took a full minute to realize her headache was finally gone.

The multicolored lights on the artificial tree winked at her. How pretty it looked in the dim light of the great room. In broad daylight it looked like just what it was—a fake tree with a bunch of junk hanging off it.

As a child, back home in Pennsylvania, there had always been a floor-to-ceiling live tree that scented the entire house. Until that fateful Christmas when she was fourteen and allowed to go to the mall alone. Three days before Christmas, she’d gone to the mall with two of her friends. An hour into her shopping the police had come for her to tell her a gas explosion had rocked their house and killed her parents.

The days afterward were still a blur. She knew she’d gone to her parents’ funeral, knew she stayed at her friend Katie’s house until her aunt Flo, a writer of travelogues, could be found. A week later she’d been located in Madrid, Spain. She’d rushed home, swooped Amy into her arms, then swooped her out to California, where Amy had lived ever since.

There had been money, lots and lots of money that her aunt Flo invested for her. Huge insurance policies added to her robust nest egg. And the house was hers, too. The town had pitched in to repair the damage from the explosion, then closed up the house. Flo paid the taxes every year and said from time to time that they would go back, but they never did. Neighbors mowed the lawn in the summer and shoveled the snow in the winter. Kind people, caring people who had loved her parents. Flo said people in small towns looked out for one another. Amy believed it.

She’d cried a lot back then because she missed her parents. Not that Flo wasn’t a wonderful substitute. She was, but it wasn’t the same as having a real mom. Flo had enrolled her in everything there was to enroll in—gymnastics, soccer, choir, art classes, music classes, the drama club—everything to keep her hours full. But at night, when she was alone in her pretty bedroom, which Flo had decorated herself, she would cry.

Her world changed in her senior year when she had the lead in the school play. She’d given a rousing performance or so said the critics. A movie producer had shown up at the door five days later and asked her if she’d be interested in an audition with a photo op. Flo had raised her eyebrows and hovered like a mother hen in case it was some kind of scam. It wasn’t. Flo continued to hover, saying college was a must. Amy had agreed, and the studio worked around her studies. Back then she did two movies a year, not little parts, not big parts, but big enough for her to get noticed. And then the plum of all plums, the lead in a Disney movie. Her career took off like a rocket. Flo still hovered until she convinced herself that Amy could take care of herself. The only thing Flo had objected to was the name change from Amanda Leigh to Amy Lee. But in the end, when her niece said she was okay with it, Flo stepped aside and continued on with her own career, which she had put on hold to take care of Amy.

Thanks to modern technology, aunt and niece stayed in touch daily. Time and scheduling permitting, they always managed at least one vacation a year together.

Amy closed her eyes again as she ran the last phone call with Flo through her mind. Flo had called just as she was getting out of bed. She’d flopped back onto the pillows, and they talked for almost an hour. The last thing she’d said to her aunt before breaking the connection was, “I don’t want to do this anymore, Flo. I want to go home. I am going home. Tomorrow as a matter of fact. I bought my ticket two weeks ago.”

“Just like that, you’re throwing it all away?” Flo had said.

“Well, not exactly. I have two more pictures on my contract, and I don’t have to report to the studio till April of next year. I don’t know if I’m burned out, or I just need to get out of the business. Come April, I might be more than ready to go back. I will honor the contract, so that’s not a problem. Before you can ask, I am financially secure. You know I never touched my inheritance. I’ve got fifty times that amount from my earnings, and it’s all invested wisely. I’m okay, so don’t worry about me.”

“Mandy, I just want you to be happy,” Flo said. She’d never once called her by her Hollywood name. “I want you to find a nice man, get married, have kids, get a couple of dogs, and be happy. It’s all I ever wanted for you. I’m just not sure you’re going to find happiness back in Pennsylvania.”

“We should have gone back, Flo.”

“Woulda, coulda, shoulda. I did what I thought was best. For you. So, you’re going to open up the house and…what…put down some roots?”

“I don’t know, Flo. Maybe I’m looking for something that doesn’t exist, and you’re right, if I had wanted to go back earlier, I would have made your life miserable until you took me. The best I can come up with is, I wasn’t ready to go back. I’m ready now, and I’m going. It would be nice if you could find a way to join me. Hint, hint.”

“Darling girl, I met a man! He has the soul of an angel, and don’t ask me how I know this. I just know it. He loves me, warts and all. He’s a simple man, never been out of Madrid. He lives on a farm. Owns the farm, actually. Never been on an airplane. I’ll ask him if he wants to spend Christmas with my movie star niece. He’s seen all your movies, by the way. He thinks you’re a nice-looking lass.”

Amy laughed. “You getting married?”

“The minute he asks me, I am, but he has to ask first. I have to run, Mandy, I have an appointment I can’t break. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Love you, Flo.”

“And I love you, too.”

Amy sighed. Flo had a boyfriend. At sixty-five, Flo had a boyfriend. Here she was, at thirty-three, without a prospect in sight. How weird was that?

Amy gathered up the sequined shoes that matched her gown. She walked out to the kitchen to see if the caterers had cleaned up thoroughly. The kitchen was spotless. She locked the back door and turned out the light. The great room had a master switch that turned off all the tree lights as well as the overhead lights. The outside lights were set on a timer that would turn everything off a little before dawn.

As she walked up the stairs to the second floor she found herself wondering if Hank Anders still lived back home. Her first boyfriend. The first boy who had ever given her a gift. Hank had been the first boy to kiss her. On the lips. She hadn’t had a chance to tell him good-bye. Where was he right now? What was he doing? If he still lived in Apple Valley, would he remember her? Not likely, thanks to Flo and her transformation from small-town girl to glamorous Hollywood star. She’d had her nose done, gotten braces, wore contacts, and her hair was a different color. Flo had seen to it that her past stayed in the past. She’d never been able to figure that out. As far as her bio went, she was born and raised in California. Went to UCLA. End of story.

Or was it the beginning?

Chapter Two

Henry Anders, also known as Cranky Hank Anders, hefted his oversize suitcase off the carousel and looked around for his sister-in-law, who had said she’d meet him in the baggage area. When he didn’t see her, he made his way to the closest EXIT sign. And then he saw her pushing a double stroller with the year-old twins, who were howling at the top of their lungs. He wondered if their high-pitched screams had anything to do with the way they were bundled up. Their mother looked just as frazzled as her offspring.

Alice Anders stopped in her tracks and threw out her arms. “Hank! I’m so glad to see you! I’m sorry I’m late. There was traffic, and my two bundles of joy here are overdue for a nap. I had to park a mile away. I’m sorry. I left hours ahead of time just so I wouldn’t be late, and what happens, I’m late! Ohhh, I’m just so glad you’re here. I was dreading going through the holidays without Ben. I had an e-mail from him this morning, and he warned me not to be late; that’s why I left early. He said you hate to wait around for people.”

Alice was a talker, he’d give her that. “No problem. Relax, Alice. I could just as easily have taken a cab or gotten a car service. I’m here, you’re here, that’s all that matters. The twins really grew since Easter. Ben said they’re walking now.” An anxious note crept into his voice when he said, “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

Alice shoved a lock of dark hair under the bright red wool hat she was wearing. “As right as someone who’s in Iraq can be. He said you’re the only one he trusts to step in for him at Christmas. He was supposed to come back in September, but they extended his tour. This will be our first Christmas apart.” Tears welled in her eyes as she gave the stroller a shove to get through the door Hank was holding open for her.

A blustery gust of wind whipped across the walkway. The twins howled louder. Alice dropped a light blanket over the top of the stroller to keep the wind at bay. One of the twins ripped it away, one pudgy fist shaking in frustration. The wind picked it up, and it was gone, just like that. Hank was about to chase it down when Alice stopped him. “It doesn’t matter, it was an old one. Like I said, I parked a mile away, so let’s get going. The sooner I get these two guys in the car, the sooner they’ll calm down.”

Hank didn’t know what to say. He was certainly no authority on kids, babies in particular, so he just walked along, dragging his suitcase. He wondered if the twins slept through the night. Probably not from the look of the dark circles under Alice’s eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye he watched his sister-in-law. Once she’d been slim and trim. Once she’d worn makeup and had a fashionable hairdo and she’d dressed in designer clothes. Today she was wearing a down coat of some sort that made her look forty pounds overweight. She was wearing jeans and sneakers, and her hair was up in a ponytail, the tail sticking out of the back of the bright red hat. Maybe marriage wasn’t all that wonderful. Maybe he was lucky after all, even though at the time he thought his world was coming to an end when his fiancée had left him standing at the altar on their wedding day. He looked down at the twins, who were trying to poke each other’s eyes out. Yeah, yeah, maybe he had dodged the bullet.

A twin himself, he wanted to tell Alice her nightmare was just beginning when he remembered some of the things he and Ben had done growing up. Always in trouble, always fighting, always making their parents’ lives anxious. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t tell her.

Fifteen minutes later, Alice stopped in front of a dark SUV. He whirled around at the furious sound of a dog barking. Alice stopped, a horrible look on her face. “That’s Churchill, the dog. Ben got him before he left for Iraq. He said we needed protection because we couldn’t afford an alarm system.” Hank thought she sounded like she would have gone into debt for the alarm versus the dog. “I think it might be a little crowded, but you’ll be in the front seat. The dog sheds. And he poops everywhere. The twins step in it. He pees, too. I can never seem to catch him at the right time to let him out. He’s a good dog, great with the boys. The lights are still up from last Christmas. Ben never got a chance to take them down before he had to return to Iraq. I have to get a Christmas tree. Ben wants me to send him a picture. Like I don’t have enough to do without going out to get a Christmas tree. I wasn’t going to get one. The boys are too little to know what a Christmas tree is.”

“Uh-huh. Give me the keys, Alice, I’ll drive and you can relax.”

“Relax! That word is not in my vocabulary. The last time I relaxed was on my honeymoon, and even then I’m not sure I relaxed. It was stressful.”

Hank decided he wouldn’t touch that statement with a ten-foot pole. No sireee, not even with a twenty-foot pole. He offered to help strap the twins into the car seats, but Churchill had other ideas and growled at him. He slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. He hoped the heat would kick in. He was freezing.

The dog barked, and the twins howled and yowled as Alice walked around to the driver’s side of the car and opened the door. She looked Hank square in the eye and said, “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s all yours! The key to the house is the big key on the ring. You can get the damn Christmas tree, and you can decorate the house and you can clean up the poop and the pee and you can cook and clean and do the laundry and rake and take care of the yard. And you can tell your brother for me that I wish he had left me standing at the altar. There isn’t much food in the house, so you’ll have to go shopping, and let me tell you, that’s an experience from hell. Good luck. The boys get a bath at seven. That’s another experience that is right up there with hell. See ya!”

Churchill leaped over the seat to land in the front next to Hank. He threw his head back and howled, an ungodly sound that made the hair on the back of Hank’s neck stand on end.

She was walking away! Actually walking away! “Hey!” he bellowed. “Where are you going? Come back here, Alice!” Obviously, she hadn’t heard him because she kept right on walking. Must be the wool hat over her ears. He jammed the car in reverse and barreled down the aisle, coming to a stop next to her. He pushed a button and the passenger-side front window rolled down. “C’mon, Alice, you can’t leave me with these kids and this dog. I know you didn’t mean that; you’re just venting, and I can understand how hard it’s been. Get in the car. Please,” he added as an afterthought. The twins had started to howl again the moment the SUV ground to a stop. Churchill leaped in the back and started to lick at the twins’ faces. “Stop that,” he shouted, to be heard over the din.

Alice was on the move again. He inched the SUV along to keep up with her. “Where are you going?”

“To get a manicure, a massage, and a pedicure. Then I’m going someplace where I can sleep for a week and get room service. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.” She tossed her cell phone in the car window. Churchill leaped over the seat again and grabbed it before returning to the back. He started to chew on it. It chirped in protest. A moment later Alice ran between the rows of parked cars and was lost to him.

Hank sat for a full minute, the reality of his situation hitting him full on. Alice was gone. She’d meant what she said. He was stranded with year-old twins and a hundred-pound golden retriever that pooped and peed all over the place and chewed up cell phones, and there was no Christmas tree or food in the house. “Shit!” he said succinctly.

“Ben,” he muttered under his breath, “when I see you again I’m going to kick your ass all the way to the Canadian border.” He knew he’d do no such thing; he was just venting the way Alice had vented. He loved Ben even though he’d never understood why he’d wanted a military career. Major Benjamin Anders. It sounded so professional. When he got back from Iraq, he would be Colonel Benjamin Anders. Hank felt his chest puff out with pride at his little brother. Little brother because Ben was two whole minutes younger than his older brother.

As he tooled along Route 30, his mind raced. He knew squat about taking over a household. He lived in a town house, had a housekeeper, and never worried about grocery shopping. Hell, he didn’t even know what to buy. And, he wasn’t much in the kitchen department either, which meant he could boil an egg and that was it. And he could make coffee. He was a bachelor, for crying out loud. Now, in the blink of an eye he was suddenly a stand-in dad, a dog watcher, a chauffeur, a grocery shopper, and a cook. There was something definitely wrong with this picture.

Maybe he could get some help. The kind that lived in and did all those things. He could afford it. Or, he could send the bill to Ben. No, skip that idea. Not even majors make enough to pay for that.

Forty minutes later, Hank slowed for the red light on the corner. In five minutes he would be driving through the center of town. As always, he took a moment to savor the small-town warmth of Apple Valley. He cruised past the town square, noted the sleigh, the eight huge reindeer, and all the other Christmas decorations. Glorious wreaths with huge red bows were on all the sparkling white doors of the town’s official buildings. The square was where the midnight candlelight Christmas was held. The whole town turned out. Kids in pajamas all bundled up, even dogs attended, with antlers on their heads and colorful green and white collars for the season. He loved Apple Valley and the people he’d grown up with. Right now, though, this very second, he hated it.

Churchill started to bark the moment Hank turned off Apple Valley Road, the main thoroughfare in town, onto Clemens Ferry Road, where his brother and he had been born and grew up. The old homestead. He blinked at the commotion going on at the house next to his old home. A fire engine, an ambulance, and the sheriff’s car. Something must have happened to Albert Carpenter. Ben had just mentioned Albert in his last e-mail, saying he would be ninety-three the day after Christmas. He wanted Hank to invite him for Christmas dinner and make sure he got some presents. Albert Carpenter had been a substitute grandfather to both boys when they were growing up.

Hank felt a lump the size of a golf ball form in his throat. For years, Ben and the other neighbors had looked after Albert because there was no one else to do it. In fact, a few years ago, Ben had given him a puppy, a little white lapdog that Albert carried around. Ben said it added years to the old gentleman’s life. He couldn’t help but wonder if Alice had taken on caring for Albert along with her other duties. More than likely.

Hank pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine, and debated his next move. Churchill watched him with keen intensity. Would the dog bolt? How was he supposed to get two kids into the house at the same time? One under each arm. That had to mean the dog would bolt. Maybe. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the ambulance pull away. Out of the corner of his other eye he saw a white ball of fur streaking toward Alice’s SUV. Churchill let out a high-pitched bark of pure happiness. Albert’s dog. Who was going to take care of her? He knew it was a her because he remembered Ben saying Albert named the little dog after his wife, Sadie. Officially known as Miss Sadie.

Hank opened the door so he could get out without letting the big dog out of the car. He had to find a leash or something. Like that was going to happen. He looked around in a daze, the white fur ball yapping and yipping at his feet. Churchill continued to bark, growl, and howl at what was going on. The twins woke up and started to cry. “Oh, shit!” Maybe if he opened the door to the house, dragged the dog in, and shut the door he could do it that way. He’d have to come back for the kids. He was on his way to the door when he saw the fire engine and the sheriff’s car leaving the neighborhood. That was when he saw the Range Rover in the Leigh driveway. The house must have been sold. He felt sad at the thought. Ben hung a Christmas wreath on the front door every Christmas even though the house was empty. First Albert, then the Leigh house. No, first Alice’s fit. A trifecta of misery. Flo must have finally sold the house. He wondered why—it was in such perfect condition. He knew that for a fact because Ben told him that the sodality ladies did a spring cleaning once a year.

The front door slid open. Hank walked into the kitchen and grabbed a dish towel, which he carried outside and looped into Churchill’s collar. With his homemade leash, he dragged the recalcitrant canine into the house. The fur ball followed and made herself comfortable on one of the family room chairs. Churchill took the other chair, but not before he lifted his leg on the bottom of it.

Hank lost it then. He marched over to the big dog, who looked at him defiantly. He stuck his finger to his nose and barked, “Do that one more time, and your ass is grass. You hear me? That means you sit out on the deck and look through the window. And I won’t feed you either. Oh, Christ, the twins!” He raced to the door and back out to the car. It took him a good five minutes to figure out how to unbuckle the harness on the childproof seats or whatever they were called. A kid under each arm, he marched to the door and opened it. Alice said they could walk. He set them down and off they went. “I need a beer. Please, God, let there be beer in the refrigerator.” There was no beer. He had to settle for a Diet Pepsi. Did all women in the world drink Diet Pepsi? He counted twenty-four cans. Alice must be addicted.

Hank looked around for a place to sit down. He was tempted to shoo Churchill off the chair, but one look at the retriever’s face squelched that idea. Obviously, the chair was his. Miss Sadie looked at him with adoring eyes and yipped softly. “You just moved in, didn’t you, you little shit?” Miss Sadie yipped again and put her head down between her paws. Yep, she had moved in.

Hank looked over at the twins, who were trying to crawl into the fireplace. He realized they still had on their winter gear and were sweating profusely. He removed it, closed the fire screen, then flopped down on the couch after he dumped a ton of toys on the floor. “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.”

The sudden quiet alerted Hank that something was wrong. One of the twins, he didn’t know which one, was trying to take off his pants. And then he smelled it. “Please, God, no. I’ve never changed a diaper in my life.” Churchill jumped off his chair, trotted out of the room, and returned with a diaper clenched between his teeth. He let it drop at Hank’s feet. Then he hopped back on his chair. Hank wanted to cry.

The TV suddenly exploded with sound. Churchill had the remote clutched between his paws. A cartoon show appeared. The twins squealed their pleasure.

“Alice Anders, you are a saint,” Hank said as he prepared to change his first-ever diaper.

Chapter Three

Amy Lee, aka Amanda Leigh, walked through her old home. Everything was just as she remembered it. All these years later, nothing had changed. Thanks, she knew, to Flo, who stayed in touch with her parents’ old friends.

Amy was glad now that she’d had the foresight to call ahead to a cleaning service, which had cleaned the house and turned on all the utilities as well as doing a week’s grocery shopping. It was worth every penny in comfort alone. She was toasty warm, and there was even a load of wood on the back porch and a stack of logs and kindling perched on the end of the fireplace hearth. Maybe this evening she’d make a fire the way her parents had always done after dinner.

Her memory of that terrible time when her world had changed forever surfaced. This time she didn’t push the memory away. Flo should have let her stay, at least for a while. She should have cried and been given the chance to grieve instead of being dragged across the country where every hour of her day was occupied so she wouldn’t think about that time. Now, where had that thought come from? Had she secretly blamed Flo all these years for the person she’d become? Did she really want to look into that? Probably not. At least not right now.

It just boggled her mind that everything in the house looked the same. The furniture was outdated, but that was okay. The oak staircase had the same old treads and gave off the scent of lemon polish. The furniture looked comfortable but worn. The house gleamed and sparkled, and it didn’t smell like it had been closed up for years and years. Even the kitchen curtains had been washed and starched.

All the bedrooms and bathrooms were closed. She wondered why. One by one she opened them. The spare bedroom had a yellow spread on the big four-poster and crisp white curtains hanging at the windows. Flo had always slept in this room when she visited back then. A colorful braided rug was in the middle of the floor. Her mother had hooked rugs in the winter. Framed posterlike pictures hung on the walls—scenes from different cities that Flo had traveled to.

Amy backed out of the room and opened the door to her parents’ room. Tears burned in her eyes. How many times she’d run to that bed and jumped in with her parents to be hugged in the middle of the night. She thought she could smell either the perfume or the talcum powder her mother had always used. How was that possible? She walked into the bathroom. All her mother’s things were still on one side of the vanity, her father’s things on the other side. She looked around as though time had stopped and never picked up again.

In one way, Amy was glad that Flo had left things the way they were. In another way, she wished she hadn’t. She ran to the high four-poster and jumped up on it. She flapped her arms and legs this way and that like she was making snow angels.

Amy frowned when she heard a high-pitched siren. It sounded like it was right next door. She bolted from the room, which was at the back of the house, and ran to her old room, whose windows faced the Carpenter property on one side and the Anders property on the other. She watched as frantic EMS workers ran into the Carpenter house. She swiped at the tears forming in her eyes when, a while later, she saw the same EMS people wheel a gurney out to the ambulance. Not too long ago Flo had told her Albert Carpenter was in his nineties and in frail health. Such a nice man. His wife had been nice, too, to all the kids in the neighborhood. They’d always been partial to Hank and Ben. She was about to move from the window when she saw movement through the window facing the Anders house. She walked over to the other window, which afforded her a better view, and stared down at the man getting out of the SUV. Ben? Hank? It was hard to tell from where she was standing. Her heart kicked up a beat as she watched the scene being played out on the ground. Kids. Big dog. Little white dog. She burst out laughing as she watched the man run into the house to return and drag the dog into the house with a towel as a leash. She laughed even harder when she saw him straddle each child under his arms. A novice for a father. Ben? Hank? Her heart was beating extra fast. Not a good thing. So much for hoping that maybe…

Amy walked across the room to the rocking chair her mother had painted bright red because red was Amy’s favorite color. She’d even made the cushions out of red velvet. Amy sat down and started to rock as she let her gaze sweep through the room. It was all just the same. Her boots were in the corner, her yellow muffler and matching wool hat, knitted by her mother, were on the coatrack by the closet door. Her navy peacoat with the gold buttons was still on the rack, too. Guess Flo thought I wouldn’t need winter clothes in California, she thought.

From her position in the rocking chair, Amy could see the photos she’d taped to the mirror over her vanity. Most of them were of her, Hank, and Ben. Several of her friend Libby, who had moved away a few months before her parents’ death.

Amy got up to check out her closet and dresser drawers. Everything was neat and tidy even after all these years. A lifetime ago. Time to let it all go. Time to lay all her old ghosts to rest.

Amy looked outside, surprised that it was already dark and it was only five o’clock. Time to think about a nice hot shower, some dinner, and a nice fire and a little television before she retired for the night. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow she’d go up to the attic and get down all her mother’s Christmas decorations. Maybe she’d venture forth and get a real live Christmas tree. Not a glittery Hollywood tree but one that would smell up the whole house. Then she’d have that Christmas that never happened. The one she’d missed when Flo took her to California.

Maybe Christmas would be forever tainted. Maybe she couldn’t get the old feelings back. Well, she’d never know if she didn’t try.

Was it Hank or Ben in the house next door? She wished she knew. Maybe she should go over and knock on the door. People in Apple Valley did things like that. Most times they brought food to newcomers. She couldn’t help but wonder if anyone would bring her something once they knew she was back home.

As she walked down the steps, Amy crossed her fingers. Let it be Ben next door. Let him be the married one. Maybe she could discreetly ask where Hank was. Find out if he, too, was married. She crossed her fingers tighter.

Back on the first floor, Amy opened the doors of the fireplace, laid some kindling, then stacked the logs the way she’d seen her father do. She had a fireplace in her California home, but it was gas. She’d used it once and was so disappointed with the effect it created, she’d never turned it on again. Within minutes she had a nice blaze going. In the kitchen she prepared a small salad to accompany the frozen TV dinner she popped into the oven. She uncorked a bottle of wine to let it breathe before she headed upstairs to shower.

Her first day home.

Home. Amy closed her eyes and almost swooned at the way the one word made her feel. She literally ran up the stairs, her heart bursting with happiness. She knew, just knew, coming back home to Apple Valley was the best decision of her life.

In the shower, she sang “Jingle Bells” at the top of her lungs as she washed her hair and showered with her favorite bath gel, a Vera Wang scent she’d been using for years.

Thirty minutes later, Amy walked through the family room, where the fire was blazing cheerfully, and on out to the kitchen, where her dinner waited for her. She turned on the radio that was mounted under one of the kitchen cabinets. Holiday music invaded the old kitchen.

She was home. Eating in her old kitchen, using her mother’s old place mats, using the same silverware with the green handles. It seemed the same, but it wasn’t the same. The sugar bowl and creamer weren’t in the middle of the table. Both her parents had always had coffee with their meals, even at lunchtime. Suddenly, Amy wasn’t hungry anymore. She reached for the wine bottle and poured it into her glass. Flo had drummed into her head over the years that “you can’t go home again,” then went on to say some famous writer had said that. It wasn’t until she was in college that Amy learned that the writer was Thomas Wolfe.

Amy sat down on what had once been her mother’s chair and stared at the fire. She supposed you could go home again physically, but when you got there, you had to be realistic enough to know that time had passed, and it could never be recaptured. And recapture time was exactly what she had hoped to do by making this trip. How foolish she was to even think she could make that happen. The past was prologue.

Now what was she supposed to do until it was time to go back to California? Should she just eat, drink, sleep, watch television? Should she pretend it wasn’t the Christmas season and ignore everything? Wouldn’t that be a cop-out?

Maybe she should go next door and talk to Ben or Hank or whoever it was that lived in that house. There was nothing wrong with dropping in on old childhood friends. Was there? She tried to talk herself out of the idea by convincing herself that either Ben or Hank’s wife wouldn’t appreciate an unknown female dropping by—she looked down at her watch—at seven o’clock in the evening. Maybe she would do it tomorrow.

Before Amy could change her mind, she raced upstairs for her old peacoat. She was surprised that it still fit. She pulled the yellow hat down over her ears, wrapped the muffler around her neck, and was ready to go. A walk to the town square would be nice. She could take her time, look in the shop windows, and by the time she got home, she’d be wiped out and ready for a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Her own bed. Five minutes later she was out the door, the key to the front door in the pocket of her sweatpants.

It was icy cold, the wind blustery and pushing her along as she walked down the street to the corner. Her feet already felt numb from the cold. No wonder, she thought, looking down at her feet. She wasn’t wearing socks, and she was still wearing slippers, for God’s sake. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe she wasn’t really stupid. Maybe she was just overwhelmed with being home and wasn’t thinking clearly. She continued walking to the next corner, then she decided, yes, she was stupid, and turned around to go home.

How bleak and lonely Mr. Carpenter’s house looked. Every other house on the street featured colored Christmas lights on their porches and shrubbery. Correction. Every house but Mr. Carpenter’s and her house had colored lights. She made a mental note to get them down from the attic and hang them tomorrow. Maybe she’d hang some on Mr. Carpenter’s house, too. She rather thought Mr. Carpenter would like that.

The Anders house was lit up from top to bottom. It looked like every room in the house was lit up. She looked around. The other houses on the street looked the same way. Families needed a lot of light, she decided.

Amy heard the sound when she walked across the lawn in front of the Anders house in a shortcut to her driveway. She stopped and pushed her hat above her ears to see if she could hear better. It sounded like a baby was crying. She listened hard, then heard a whimpering sound. She turned around and there by her front door was the beautiful dog she’d seen earlier. He looked even more golden under the porch light. She whistled softly, and the dog bounded over to where she was standing. “Hey, big guy, what are you doing out here all by yourself? Did you get loose? Like you’re really going to answer me. I think you belong over there,” she said, pointing to the door of the Anders house. “C’mon, I’ll ring the bell, and before you know it, you’ll be warm and cozy inside.” The big dog walked alongside her as she made her way to the front door.

Amy rang the bell. Once. Twice. On the third ring she thought she heard a voice bellow, “Come in.” She looked down at the dog and shrugged. She opened the door and stuck her head in. “Anybody here?” she shouted.

“I’m upstairs giving the twins a bath,” came the reply.

“I brought your dog home. I think he might have jumped the fence. It’s freezing outside. It’s not right to leave an animal out in weather like this,” she shouted again, anger ringing in her voice. As an afterthought she yelled again, “If you can’t take care of an animal, you shouldn’t have one. I’m leaving now,” she said, backing toward the door, partially blocking it with her leg so the big dog wouldn’t bolt.

The voice from the second floor thundered down the steps. “What are you, some know-it-all? If the dog jumped the fence, it doesn’t mean I can’t take care of him. Stop that! Right now! Now look what you did!” Two high-pitched wails of misery traveled down the steps.

The golden dog immediately raced up the steps, a white fur ball on his heels, yapping every step of the way.

“A thank you would have been nice. Doesn’t sound like you’re any great shakes as a parent either.” Amy screamed out her parting shot as she closed the door behind her. “Stupid ass!” And to think I couldn’t wait to see you. Ha!

Back inside her own house, Amy raced to her room for some heavy warm socks. She could barely feel her feet, that’s how cold she was. Back downstairs, she tidied up the kitchen, poured more wine, then went back to the family room. She pulled at the cushions from the sofa and propped them up by the fire, her legs stretched forward. She added two more logs to the fire and sipped at her wine.

Two revelations in one day. 1. You can’t have expectations when you go home again. 2. Ben or Hank Anders was not the boy of her youth. Screw it, she thought as she set the wineglass aside and curled up on the old cushions. Moments later she was sound asleep.

She slept soundly only to be awakened hours later by the sound of her doorbell. Groggily, she looked down at her watch. It was after twelve. Who would be visiting at this hour? She ran to the door, turned on the porch light, and was dismayed to see the huge golden dog slapping at her doorbell. She opened the door, and he bounded in like a whirlwind. He ran over to the fire and lay down on the cushions.

Amy threw her hands in the air. “What’s this mean? You moved out? What?”

The dog barked as he squirmed and wiggled to get more comfortable on the cushions. “Does this mean you’re staying here for the night?” The dog barked again, laid his head on his paws, and closed his eyes. “Guess so. Can’t say as how I blame you. He sounds like a…like a…big jerk.”

Before she made her way to the second floor, Amy bent over to look at the collar on the big dog’s neck. Churchill. “Okay, Churchill, see you in the morning.”

Chapter Four

Hank Anders staggered down the stairs a little before midnight. He was beyond exhausted from the past few hours with the twins, and he now had a newfound respect for his sister-in-law. Where in the name of God was she? Probably sleeping peacefully in some five-star hotel after being pampered by a trained masseuse.

The two dogs looked at him warily. Churchill ran to the sliding glass doors off the kitchen that led to a little terrace in the back. Earlier he’d seen the area was fenced, so he let the dogs out. His nerves were twanging all over the place as he prepared a cup of hot chocolate the way his mother had always done when things got dicey. Well, as far as he was concerned, things didn’t get any dicier than this.

Dinner had been a disaster. The twins didn’t like hard-boiled eggs. They didn’t like toast either. When they wouldn’t eat, he’d belatedly checked to make sure they had teeth, and sure enough they each had six. Then he’d tried peanut butter and jelly, but they didn’t like that either. All they’d done was smear it everywhere. The two dogs licked it up, to his chagrin. Milk from a cup was spilled on the floor and on the walls, leaving a sticky residue. The dogs licked that up, too. He finally found a can of ravioli and handed out spoons. Probably his tenth or eleventh mistake. At least he didn’t have to worry about the dogs’ dinner.

Bath time had been a total disaster. He wondered if Alice would notice, if she ever returned, that the wallpaper was soaking wet or that the linoleum on the floor was buckling where the splashed water had seeped under it. Probably not. Why should she? She had other things on her mind. God, where was she? Was she going to leave him here forever with her kids or until Ben got back? He shuddered at the thought. She’d be a fool not to. A five-star hotel, a pedicure, manicure, hairdo, facial, massage, certainly couldn’t compare to this experience.

And who the hell was that person who brought Churchill back? And how had the dog gotten out in the first place? “Please come home, Alice. Please,” Hank muttered over and over as he poured the hot chocolate into a cup.

Earlier, after the dinner the twins didn’t eat, he had called the market and placed an order the clerk promised to deliver early in the morning. He’d lucked out when he called the only employment agency in town. The woman who operated it was running late and was still in the office. She’d promised a “day lady” or possibly a male nanny depending on availability and sir, we do not discriminate, who was capable of minding children and doing light cooking for $750 a week. He’d blinked at the amount but agreed. At that precise moment he would have paid triple the amount she quoted.

Hank was so hungry he thought he was going to pass out. He’d used the last of the bread, so he ate peanut butter and jelly right out of the jar. All of it. Though still hungry, he was too tired to rummage or try to cook something.

When Miss Sadie scratched at the door, he went over to open it. The little fur ball pranced in and looked up at the giant standing over her. She yipped and did a circle dance that probably meant something, but he didn’t know what. He whistled for Churchill, and, when nothing happened, he turned on the outside light and whistled again. The small yard was lit up brightly, but there was no sign of the golden retriever. He ran out to the yard calling the dog’s name, Miss Sadie yapping and nipping at his pant leg as he raced around. Pure and simple—the dog was gone. “Aw, shit!”

Miss Sadie leaped up, snagged his pant leg, and held on. He tried to shake her loose, but she wasn’t budging. Somehow he managed to get back into the house in time to hear one of the twins wailing upstairs. “I hate you, Alice Anders,” he groaned as he made his way to the second floor. By the time he got to the boys’ cribs, whichever one had been wailing, had stopped. Both toddlers were peacefully sleeping, thumbs in their mouths. Ben had been a thumb sucker.

Hank went back downstairs and opened the front door. He whistled and called the golden retriever’s name. He felt like crying when the dog didn’t appear. It was so cold and windy and he could see light flurries of snow in the lamplight at the end of the driveway. Miss Sadie was still protesting whatever it was she was protesting by yapping and whining. He told her to shut up in no uncertain terms. She growled, a funny little sound that made the hair on the back of Hank’s neck stand on end. He’d read somewhere that little dogs could be killers.

Back in the kitchen, Hank looked at the hot chocolate in his cup. “Good for the nerves, my ass,” he mumbled as he searched the cabinets for something a little more powerful. He finally found a bottle of scotch behind a giant-size bottle of ketchup. He removed the cap and swigged directly from the bottle. One gulp. Two gulps. Three gulps. “Where are you, Alice?” he singsonged as he made his way into the family room. “Please come home, Churchill.” He immediately retraced his steps to the kitchen and made coffee. He stood in the middle of the kitchen as the coffee dripped into the pot. What kind of child-care provider was he? The worst kind, the kind that drank on the job, that’s what kind. Well, that was never going to happen again.

Hank opened the door again and whistled for Churchill. He looked down at Miss Sadie, who just looked sad, like she knew Churchill wasn’t coming back. He bent over to scoop the little dog into his arms. She cuddled against his heart, and he swore that she sighed with happiness. At least someone loves me, he thought. Either that or she’s desperate for attention. More than likely she missed Albert.

The clock on the kitchen stove said it was one o’clock. What time did the twins get up in the morning? Not that he was going to be any more prepared for them when they did than he was when he arrived. He just knew Alice was sleeping soundly and peacefully on thousand-thread-count sheets while he was afraid to close his eyes.

Somehow he managed to pour his coffee and drink it without disturbing Miss Sadie, who appeared to be out for the count. Who was his earlier visitor, the one who brought Churchill back? Maybe the chick from next door, the one with the fancy set of wheels in the driveway.

As he walked around the well-lighted kitchen he felt sad that the Leigh house had finally, after all these years, been sold. And, without a doubt, the Carpenter house would go up for sale, too. This house, Ben’s now, would be all that was left of the old childhood neighborhood. All the other houses on the street had recycled themselves, and, once again, small children played in the yards and even on the road because there was no traffic on the cul-de-sac. His memories seemed like they were a hundred years old.

Hank finally locked the door when he realized Churchill wasn’t coming back. Obviously, the dog had jumped the fence. The best he could hope for was that the dog wasn’t freezing somewhere. Miss Sadie squirmed, stretched, and licked at his chin before she went back to sleep. He just knew that Albert Carpenter had carried her around just the way he was doing.

Good Lord, how was he going to go to Albert’s wake and funeral? He made a mental note to order flowers first thing in the morning. He’d have to find a babysitter. Suddenly, he wanted to cry all over again. How was he going to get the news to Alice? If she ran true to what she was doing, she wasn’t going to be watching the news or reading papers. Ben needed to know, too. Tomorrow he would figure out what he was going to do about that.

The coffee had sobered him up, but he knew he couldn’t sleep, so he switched on the television and watched a rerun of the daily news on Fox. Eventually he dozed, his arm around Miss Sadie.

Dawn was breaking when Hank finally stirred. Something had woken him. What? Miss Sadie was no longer sleeping in his arms. The house was silent except for a scratching noise on the sliding glass door. Miss Sadie wanted to go out. Then he remembered that Churchill was still missing. He ran to the door and opened it, but there was no sign of the golden retriever. What he saw made him blink. A good inch of snow covered the ground. Miss Sadie was no fool—she took one look at the white stuff, stepped over the threshold, squatted, and raced back inside.

Hank ran to the front door to see if the golden dog was waiting outside. He whistled and called. No dog prints could be seen in the snow. Shoulders slumped, he closed the door and went back to the kitchen to make coffee. While it dripped, and the twins were still sleeping, he used the first-floor bathroom to shower and shave. He wanted to be ready when the groceries and his new day lady arrived to take charge.

Fifteen minutes later, Hank was ready for whatever the day was going to throw at him. To pass the time until the twins woke, he checked out the little computer station Alice had set up in a small alcove off the kitchen. He was surprised when he clicked the computer on that it opened up to Alice’s e-mail on AOL. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about a password—it was all here, right in front of him. And there was an e-mail addressed to him.

Hank gawked at what he was seeing. Well, that certainly took a lot of nerve. He clicked on the e-mail and saw a to-do list. Not one word about where she was, what she was doing, or that she was sorry. A damn to-do list. He lashed out with his foot to kick the side of the little desk and was instantly sorry. He looked down at his bare feet and howled in pain, knowing damn well that he’d broken his big toe. What the hell else could go wrong? This was way beyond Murphy’s law.

Hank read the list.

- Twins get up around 8. Diaper change. Dress.

- Breakfast. Oatmeal with milk and a little sugar. Applesauce.

- Lunch is soup, crackers, cheese cubes, and peaches.

- Milk as often as they want it.

- Dinner is whatever you want, cut up small or mash all food.

- Churchill gets fed at four. His food is in pantry in a bag. Do not let anything happen to that dog or Ben will kill you.

- Do the grocery shopping. List is on the fridge. Money is in the tea canister.

- Buy Christmas tree. Set it up. Decorate it. Buy wreath for front door. Hang wreath.

- Put gas in car, it’s on empty.

- Give Churchill a bath today. His stuff is over the sink in the laundry room. Keep him warm. Build a fire and do NOT let him outside. Walk him. He can jump the fence.

- Twins get bath at 7. They like to play in the water. Do NOT flood the bathroom. They go to bed at 7:30. Give them a treat, ice cream will be fine if you buy it. They will scream for hours if they don’t get it. Churchill gets a dog treat at the same time.

- Do laundry twice a day. Fold neatly and take upstairs. Do not leave in laundry room.

- Do not, I repeat, do not, drink while you are taking care of my sons.

Nursing his broken toe, Hank looked around wildly for something to hit, to smash. “In your dreams!”

Miss Sadie hopped up on his lap. She whimpered softly against his chest. “I can’t do this, Miss Sadie. I wasn’t cut out for this. How could she leave me here with this…this mess? Do you see how ill equipped I am to handle this? I don’t even want to handle it. I bet ten dollars she’s frolicking in some hot tub somewhere having a grand old time while I’m here…suffering. What’s wrong with this picture, Miss Sadie?” The little dog licked his chin in sympathy.

Hank was on his second cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. Clutching Miss Sadie to his chest, he ran to the door just as the twins started to cry. He pulled it open to see the grocery delivery boy and directed him to the kitchen. He’d charged the food to his credit card when he ordered it, so all he had to do was tip the delivery boy. He took five dollars from the tea canister and handed it over. The boy looked at him in disgust, so he popped another five into his hand. “I used to get fifty cents for going to the store for my mother.”

“Yeah, well, that was then, this is now. That’s so like, some dark-age time. I have to buy gas, use my own car, and drive through snow and hope the person I’m delivering to isn’t going to shoot me dead.”

The kid had a point, Hank thought as he ushered him to the door just in time to see his new day lady/man walking toward the door. He groaned. Miss Sadie was yapping her head off, and the twins were bellowing at a high-decibel level. There was no sign of Churchill anywhere.

Hank sighed as he introduced himself to his day lady, who just happened to be an older man who said he was Mason Hatcher. He had quirky-looking hair that stood up in little spikes. Rosy cheeks, wire-rim glasses, and a mouth pursed into a pout. He wore a heavy black coat, sensible shoes with laces, and it looked like he had thick ankles. He was thick all over, Hank decided when Mason removed his coat, hat, muffler, and gloves and folded them neatly on the bench next to the door. Mason looked at him and said, “I don’t much care for dogs.”

“Yeah, well, the dog goes with the deal. And one is temporarily missing. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. He’s…a little bigger. I’ll pay you extra for the dogs.” Hank hated how desperate he sounded.

“We’ll see,” was Mason’s response. “Now, where are my charges?”

“Huh?”

“The children. Where are they?”

“Upstairs, second door on the left.”

Mason stomped his way up the steps as Hank made his way to the kitchen, where he started to unpack the groceries. There wasn’t one thing fit for the twins. Obviously, broken toe or not, he was going to have to go to the market himself with Alice’s list. Damn, his toe was killing him. And, to his horror, his whole foot looked swollen. He also had to go out to look for Churchill. Don’t let Churchill out. He can jump the fence. Ben will kill you if anything happens to him. The words rang in Hank’s ears until he thought he would go out of his mind.

It suddenly dawned on him that the house was very quiet except for childish laughter wafting down the stairs. Even Miss Sadie, her head tilted to the side, was aware of the sudden silence. A minute later Mason was walking down the steps, a twin in each arm. The little twits were gooing and laughing and tweaking the man’s nose. How was that possible? He’d turned himself inside out to please them, and all they did was pinch, cry, and fight him every step of the way. Obviously, he didn’t have the touch. The right touch.

“I have to go out,” Hank said. He was stunned at his belligerent tone.

“I’d put on some shoes if I were you, Mr. Anders. It’s freezing outside.”

“I don’t know how that’s going to work, Mason. I broke my big toe.” If he hoped for sympathy, he wasn’t getting any from this guy.

“Soak it in Epsom salts,” Mason said without missing a beat. “When will you return, sir? By the way, is there a lady of the house?”

“When I’m done doing what I have to do is when I’ll be back. I can’t give you a specific time. There is a lady of the house but not right now. She’s…well, what she is…she isn’t here.”

“I see. And you’re in charge temporarily, is that it?”

“No, no, I’m not in charge. Well, I am, but I’m not. I know that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense but…you, Mason, are in charge.”

“Very well, sir.”

“Call me Hank.”

“I can’t do that, sir. You’re my employer. The company frowns on familiarity. Will there be anything else before I feed these little angels?”

“Nope, that’s it. See ya, Mason.”

Shoes on, his toe throbbing, Hank dressed and left the house. His game plan was to ride around the neighborhood to look for Churchill before doing anything else. He’d start first by warming up the SUV and brushing the snow off the windshield. He turned around when he heard banging sounds coming from Albert Carpenter’s house. Someone on a ladder was banging with a hammer and stringing lights, and who was it standing next to the ladder but Churchill!

“Hey!” he shouted.

A female voice responded, “Hey, yourself!”

“Do you need any help, other than my dog?”

“Your dog! This is your dog! I don’t think so! He’s mine now. Possession is nine-tenths of the law. I walked him. I fed him. And he slept at my house last night. That means he’s mine. It was freezing out last night. He could have died out there. You just try and get him back and I’ll…I’ll…” The hammer drove a nail into the post with deadly precision.

“That’s private property. What do you think you’re doing anyway? Mr. Carpenter died yesterday.”

“I know he died. God rest his soul. I’m hanging Christmas lights. What’s it look like I’m doing? Furthermore, it’s none of your damn business what I’m doing. Don’t even think about stealing this dog from me. Just try calling him. I betcha five bucks he will ignore you.”

Hank felt befuddled. That was a sucker bet if he ever heard one. Who was this person? She had yet to turn around, and she was bundled up like Nanook of the North.

His toe throbbing like a bongo drum, Hank whistled for the dog. Churchill ignored him. He called him by name. Churchill ignored him. He called out, “Good boy, come on now, I’ll give you a treat.” Churchill plopped down and put his head between his paws.

“I’ll take that five dollars now.”

It was like a lightbulb went off in Hank’s head. “I know who you are. You’re that know-it-all who brought Churchill back last night when I was giving the twins a bath.”

Amy banged in another nail with the same deadly precision. “Wow! You figured it out. Guess you have a brain after all. He’s mine, and he’s staying with me.”

“You’re trespassing, you know. The old guy just passed, and you’re hanging Christmas lights on his house. That makes you some kind of ghoul in my opinion. I wonder what the cops will do if I call them. I want my damn dog, and I want him now.”

“Why don’t you try taking him and see how far you get.” The hammer swung again. The sound was so loud, Hank winced. “Go ahead, call the police. I’m just being a good neighbor. I know for a fact that Mr. Carpenter always had Christmas lights. In his later years he probably had someone do it for him. And just for the record, these are my lights. I didn’t steal them, nor did I break into Mr. Carpenter’s house in case that’s the next thing you’re going to say. Furthermore, you…you…buffoon, don’t you think it’s a little strange that a woman is doing this when someone of your…ilk should be doing it? Go bother somebody else. I’m busy.”

Buffoon. Someone of my ilk. What the hell did that mean? His toe was throbbing so bad he wanted to bang it on the porch railing. Anger at his circumstances rippled through him. “Listen to me, you…you dog snatcher, I want my dog, and I want him now. He’s a boy dog. Why’d you put that stupid red ribbon with a bell on him?”

The voice that retaliated was syrupy sweet. “It’s like this, you clown. The bell lets me know where he is. This is the Christmas season, and red goes with the silver bell. For the last time, I did not snatch your dog. He came to me. He doesn’t even like you. I can tell. Look at him, he’s petrified of you. That’s pretty bad when a dog doesn’t like his owner. Did you abuse this poor animal?”

Outrage rivered through Hank at the accusation. Hank bent over to peer at the golden dog, who growled. “I would never harm an animal. I might have been a little sharp with him when he deliberately lifted his leg on a chair. He pees a flood. It took two towels to clean it up. He jumps the fence. I didn’t know he could do that until this morning.”

The voice was still syrupy sweet. “And I suppose you think I’m going to believe that…that ridiculous story. Let’s get real here.”

Hank was at his wit’s end. His toe was killing him. “Are you always this nasty so early in the morning, or were you born this way?”

Four things happened at that precise moment before Amy could respond. Mason opened the front door to get the newspaper, Miss Sadie beelined out the door and ran at the speed of light to the Carpenter front porch, at which point Churchill leaped up to greet his new best friend and toppled the ladder. The know-it-all slipped and fell.

“Oh, shit!”

“Oh, shit, is right,” Nanook of the North said as she rolled over in her down coat to survey the damage. Somehow or other the two dogs were now tangled in the string of Christmas lights that were twinkling off and on.

Churchill growled, his ears going flat against his head, a sure sign that he was perturbed at something.

Hank took that moment to stare at the woman on the floor, who was laughing hysterically. So this is what she looks like. Something teased at his memory then, something he couldn’t put his finger on. She was so pretty it took his breath away. And she had the nicest laugh he’d ever heard in his life. He knew that laugh. Or he remembered it from somewhere. The question was where? “Do I know you?”

Amy was on her feet when she looked up at her old childhood friend. “I don’t know, do you?” She bent down then to try to untangle the string of lights the dogs were bent on chewing.

Hank wondered if a buffoon-slash-clown would do what he was doing, which was holding out his hand. “Hank Anders. I’m visiting next door for the holidays.”

Amy stopped what she was doing, stood up straight, and looked him dead in the eye, hoping she wasn’t giving away the delicious feeling coursing through her. “Mandy Leigh. It’s been a long time, Hank.” She crushed his hand in hers and saw that he tried not to wince.

“Mandy! It is you! Well, damn! In my wildest dreams I never thought we’d meet up again. You broke my heart when you moved away. I wanted to write you a hundred times, but no one knew where your aunt took you. California, we all thought.”

“That’s right, California,” Amy said. “I’ve lived there ever since.”

“Mom said your aunt Flo was a world traveler. We just assumed…no one ever came back. I thought the house was sold. Hell, I don’t know what I thought. Look, I’m sorry about…about calling you names. This…it’s a long sad story. Can we go for coffee or something? God, you’re beautiful! You look just like I remember.”

Amy laughed. “Is this where I’m supposed to say you’re handsome?”

“Wouldn’t hurt. Mom always said I was good-looking. So, can we do the coffee? I’ll help you with the lights when we get back.”

“Why not?” Why not indeed. Oh, be still my heart, Amy said to herself as she tidied up the porch, then replied, “Let’s go to my house. I can make coffee, and I have some sticky buns. The kind Mom used to make when we were little.”

As they walked toward the Leigh house, a light snow started to fall to the dogs’ delight.

“Then you aren’t mad at me?”

“Nah. I was just venting. I’ve been upset about Mr. Carpenter’s passing. He was so good to us kids growing up. It’s always especially sad when a person dies during the Christmas season. That’s why I wanted to string up the lights. He used to love Christmas. Remember how we always made him a present?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember,” Hank said softly. “I remember everything about that time. You really did break my heart, you know. By the way, Miss Sadie, the little fur ball, belonged to Mr. Carpenter. Ben gave the dog to him after his wife died. Churchill is Ben’s dog. You’re probably right about him not liking me. I was more or less thrust on him out of the blue. I might remind him of Ben. By the way, Ben is in Iraq.”

“Sounds like you and I have a lot of catching up to do,” Amy said, opening the front door of her house. And he has no clue that I’m a movie star. How wonderful was that? Pretty damn wonderful, she decided.

Chapter Five

Amy felt like she was walking on legs of Jell-O as she shed her outerwear on the way to the kitchen. Hank wasn’t married. He was right behind her. In her very own kitchen. And he looked every bit as good as she dreamed. He was here. She was going to make him coffee and sticky buns. How good could life get? But the absolute best was, he had no clue that she was a movie star. A mighty sigh escaped her. She whirled around, not realizing how close he was. They literally butted shoulders. She looked into dark brown eyes that she remembered so well. She could smell minty toothpaste. In a liquid flash she could see something in his eyes, the same thing she was feeling. He blinked. She blinked, then Churchill broke the moment by jumping between them. Flustered, Amy backed away, and Hank sat down on one of the old wooden kitchen chairs.

The exquisite moment was gone. Hopefully it would return at some point.

Amy reminded herself that she was an actress. She could carry this off until she saw which way the romantic wind was blowing. “You know, Hank, I can make you a full breakfast if you like, or we can go with the sticky buns and coffee. Your call.”

Hank looked up at the stunning woman towering over him. He wanted to reach out and grab her. The old Mandy would have smacked him for taking such liberties. He’d almost kissed her. And his heart and his eyes told him she would have been receptive to the kiss. This was a new Mandy. Maybe he should step back and not be so…pushy. Pushy? He cleared his throat. His voice sounded like a nest of frogs had settled in his throat. “Whatever is easiest. Let’s just talk.”

“Great! Then it’s sticky buns, juice, and coffee.” As Amy prepared the coffee and turned on the oven, she threw questions at Hank. “So bring me up to date. Do you come home here to Apple Valley every Christmas? This is my first time back.” Was her voice too breathless, too giddy-sounding? Maybe she should be more cool, a little aloof, instead of this flighty person she’d suddenly become.

As Hank talked, Amy set the table with her mother’s old dishes. Plain white crockery with huge red strawberries in the middle. Her mother had had a passion for strawberries for some reason. Everything in the kitchen had to do with strawberries: the cookie jar, the canister set, even the place mats were in the shape of strawberries.

“I remember these dishes. Your mom always served us cookies and sandwiches on them. You always said if you had to eat something you didn’t like it made it okay because the dish was so pretty.”

Amy stopped what she was doing. “You remember that!”

“Well, yeah. I guess I considered it an important thing in my life at the time. I don’t have one bad memory of growing up here in Apple Valley. Ben doesn’t either. You never said good-bye,” Hank blurted.

Amy turned around as she fiddled with the pot holder in her hand. “Flo…Flo whisked me out of here so fast I didn’t know what happened. I guess she thought I might…I don’t know what she thought. I used to cry myself to sleep. I wanted to come back so bad, but there was nothing to come back to.”

“Do you like living in the land of perpetual sunshine?”

“Yes and no. I really miss the change of seasons. I love autumn, and I even like winter. The holidays here in Apple Valley are my greatest memory. How about you?”

“I live and work in New York. I’m an engineer, have my own business. I have nine employees, and we’re doing pretty well. New York isn’t that far away from Apple Valley. I came home once a month up until my parents died. Then Ben and Alice took over the house, and I came less and less. But I always came back for the holidays. Ben’s in Iraq. He’s a major in the army. He was supposed to be home by now, but they extended his stay over there. He’s getting out when his twenty years are up. He has another ten years to go. Alice is…upset. She was so sure Ben would be home for Christmas. The last time he saw the twins they had just been born. The Army allowed him to come home on compassionate leave just before Christmas, when they were born. They’re toddling around now, and they have teeth.” This last was said with so much amazement, Amy burst out laughing.

Hank wanted to confide in Amy, to tell her about Alice’s great escape, but he decided against it because he didn’t want to be disloyal to his sister-in-law. He decided to change the subject. “Are you going to go to Mr. Carpenter’s funeral? I imagine the wake will be this evening. I’m going. I can pick you up if you want.” Assuming Mason would babysit. No need to tell Amy about that either, he thought.

“I’d like that very much. I was going to order some flowers after I finished stringing the lights. Then you showed up…”

“I guess I came on a little strong. I’m sorry. I’ve been…” He was going to say upset with the way things were going, but at the last second finished lamely with, “Upset with Albert’s death. He was special.”

Amy poured coffee and removed the sticky buns from the oven. She let them cool as she poured juice into her mother’s old jelly glasses. She hated the tremor in her hands.

“So tell me about you. What do you do in California?” There was horror in his voice when he said, “You aren’t married, are you?”

Amy grinned. “Not even close. How about you?”

“I got close, but she left me standing at the altar. Best thing that could have happened to me. ’Course I didn’t think that at the time.”

Amy blinked, then she said, coolly, “You told me you would wait for me forever. Guess you didn’t mean it, huh?”

Hank immediately picked up on the chill in Amy’s voice. “I know I meant it at the time. I think by the time I turned twenty-one, I realized you weren’t coming back to Apple Valley. I did try Googling you a while back. Nothing came up. I figured you got married, had a new name, and were living happily amid the orange blossoms and sunshine.” It sounded so stupid even to his own ears, he couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. He gulped at the hot coffee to cover his discomfort.

Amy’s voice was still cool when she shoved one of the strawberry plates across the table along with two sticky buns and a napkin. “Guess you’re a bachelor then. I thought you would have a bunch of kids by now.”

Hank frowned. “Why would you think that?” What the hell was going on here?

Amy shrugged as she sat down. “Well, Ben is married. You’re twins. Twins usually do the same thing. I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have said that. So, how do you like these sticky buns?”

“Quite good.” They tasted like sawdust.

“No kidding. I think they taste like cardboard.”

They looked at each other across the table. They were kids again, sharing a joke. They burst out laughing at the same time. Hank spoke first. “I was going to say they tasted like sawdust, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I missed you, Mandy. When you left I thought about you every day. Ben used to tease me, said I was in love with you. You know, puppy love.”

“I was so crazy about you I couldn’t see straight. Back then I believed we would get married after we finished college. I think that’s why I was so upset when Flo took me away. I felt so lost and angry, but I was just a kid. I couldn’t do anything about it. Every day I used to run to the mailbox thinking you’d find out where I was and write me a letter. I wanted to write to you, but I guess I didn’t have the nerve. That might be more than you need or want to know.”

“No, no, not at all. I was a mess myself after you left. My mom was good about it. She tried her best to explain what she thought happened. Even Ben did his best not to nag me, but he was getting off on it. You know how kids are.”

“Yeah, I know how kids are. If you’re not busy after we string the lights, I can make you lunch, or, if you like, maybe we could go to Andolino’s for pizza. When I first got here I drove through town. Tony made the best pizza. I’ll buy.”

“Well, that’s an offer I can’t turn down. Pizza it is, and let me tell you, Tony’s pizza has not changed; it’s every bit as good as it was back when we were kids. His sons run the parlor now. So, are you ready? I’ll meet you at Mr. Carpenter’s. I want to check on…on the twins.”

“Okay, go ahead. I’ll clean up here and meet you on the porch. If you don’t mind, I want to stop and get a big wreath for Mr. Carpenter’s front door. We can order flowers at the same time. You okay with that?”

Hank shrugged into his jacket. “Absolutely. I just need ten minutes. Damn, I’m glad you came home this year.” He was almost to the door when he turned around and came back. “Hey, if I want to ask you out, you know, dinner or something, should I call you up or what? I don’t have your phone number. I need a phone number. Those tin cans we used to string between the houses aren’t going to work. You know, a date.”

A date with Hank Anders. That was the stuff dreams were made of. “Sure. It’s 310-200-9999. What’s yours?”

She wanted his number. Suddenly he felt light-headed. Hank pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed her one of his business cards. He felt a jolt of electricity racing up his arm when his fingers touched hers.

Amy smiled.

Hank smiled.

And then he was gone. Amy sucked in her breath as she danced around the kitchen as the dogs pawed and yapped at her. “You don’t understand, guys. I think I’ve been waiting all my life for what just happened. I am just so happy. So very happy.”

The dogs yipped and yapped as Amy moved between the table and the dishwasher. When she started to sing “Jingle Bells,” they howled. She laughed as she slipped into her heavy down jacket. “Hey, guys, it’s snowing again!”

Amy, the dogs behind her, walked across the lawn to the Carpenter property. Hank was nowhere in sight. What was he doing? She looked at her watch. He’d said ten minutes. Now it was more like twenty. She shrugged. If he was blowing her off, then he was blowing her off.

Hank Anders watched Amy from the front window. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it was going to leap right out of his chest. The minute he’d gotten inside, he collapsed against the door. How was it possible that now, right at this moment, his childhood dream was coming true? He’d been that close. Close enough to kiss her. And not the kind of kiss he’d planted on her lips when they were thirteen years old either.

Mason, the new nanny, took that moment to enter the foyer. Alarmed, he raced to his employer. “Are you all right, sir?”

“Mason, my man, I’m about as right as a guy can get. How’s everything going? I’m in love. Are the twins more than you can handle? Did I tell you I’m in love? Did they eat? They’re kind of sloppy. This is such a great feeling. By the way, I found the dog.”

Mason stared at his new employer. He met all kinds of people in his line of work. “I’m certain Mrs. Anders will be happy to hear that. Perhaps she’s the one you should be telling. I’m happy for you. The boys are fine. They ate ravenously. They’re playing in the family room. They’ve been changed, and I’m considering what to make them for lunch. About dinner…is there anything in particular you fancy?”

Hank gaped at the nanny. What the hell was he saying? “No, no, not Mrs. Anders.” He motioned Mason to join him at the window. “Her. I’m in love with her.”

Mason pursed his lips and glared at Hank, disapproval in every line in his face. “I see! Then my advice is not to tell Mrs. Anders.”

“Dammit, no. That’s not…I guess I didn’t explain. I’m not the husband or the father of the twins. I’m their uncle. I live in New York. My brother is Mr. Anders. He’s the husband, but he’s in Iraq. I’m just visiting. Don’t worry about dinner. Fix something for yourself. I have to go to a wake this evening. Can you stay past bath time? I’ll pay you extra of course. Did anyone…you know…call?” Please, oh, please say Alice called.

Mason looked befuddled. All he could think of to say was, “I see.”

“You already said that. What is it you see, Mason?”

“That things in this household are topsy-turvy. Or as my old mum used to say, at sixes and sevens. There were no phone calls. But, your e-mail has been pinging ever since you left. I assume that means you have messages.”

Alice. Alice must have e-mailed again. “So can you babysit this evening?”

“Of course, sir. I charge twenty-five dollars an hour.”

“Fine, fine!” Hank said as he leaped over the gates that held the twins prisoner in the family room. Just one big playpen. The minute the boys saw him, they started to cry. Mason was on the job immediately. A second later the boys were laughing and playing peekaboo with their nanny.

Hank clicked on the e-mail and was chagrined to see it was from his brother Ben and directed to Alice. He told himself he had to read the e-mail. Told himself he wasn’t being sneaky. He had to find Alice for the boys’ sake. It was such a sweet e-mail, Hank felt his eyes burn. Ben apologized again and again for not being home for the holidays. He thanked his wife for the recent pictures of the boys she’d sent him. He asked about the tree and who she was going to get to put it up. He said how much he loved her and couldn’t wait to get back to her waiting arms. Then came the clunker that made Hank’s back stiffen. I know you said I shouldn’t do it, but Hank will understand. He won’t hassle us to repay the loan sooner than we’re able. Hank’s my brother. I’d do the same for him. I can see the stress and strain on your face. Photos don’t lie, Alice. I know you’re killing yourself with all you have to do. Start looking for someone to come in to help. With Hank coming for Christmas, he’ll give you the money. This is no time for either one of us to be too proud to ask if we need help. I didn’t get an e-mail from you yesterday or today. I hope nothing is wrong. Write me, honey. I love you. All my love, Ben.

Hank clicked off the e-mail but saved it. “Mason!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

“Yes, sir.”

“Can I hire you for six months?”

“I would think so, sir. Contact the agency and arrange it. I need to warn you, I’m in demand. I say that with all due modesty.”

“Even with the dogs?”

“I suppose I can get a book on dog training.”

“Good, good. Okay, I don’t have time right now to call the agency. Will you do it and reserve yourself for the next six months. I’ll…what I’ll do is…throw in a bonus. Name it and it’s yours,” Hank babbled as he backed out of the door.

“Very well, sir.”

A blustery gust of snow flurries slammed Hank in the face the moment he stepped outside. He laughed when he saw Churchill and Miss Sadie trying to catch the elusive flurries.

“Damn, I’m sorry, Mandy. The twins…and then there was an e-mail from Ben I had to read. You hung all the lights! You didn’t need me at all.”

“Sure I do. I waited for you to plug in the lights. Cross your fingers that they work.”

Hank inserted the plug. Amy clapped her hands in delight. “I have a package of extra lights. It’s amazing that they still work after all these years. Well, our work here is done. You can carry the ladder back to my house and put it on the back porch. Should I keep the dogs, or do you want to take them to your house?”

“Yours. The nanny doesn’t have a dog book yet. Yeah, yeah, your house. My car or yours?” Then he remembered Alice said the SUV needed gas. “Yours. Alice said hers is low on gas. I’ll fill it up later, but since I don’t know how much driving we’re going to be doing, let’s use yours.”

“Okay,” Amy said agreeably.

Ten minutes later, the snow still swirling and twirling, Hank and Amy settled themselves in the big truck. “Pretty fancy set of wheels,” Hank said. “Is it yours, or is it a rental?”

“I bought it when I got here. Mom and Dad’s old cars are still in the garage. I didn’t want to take a chance on either one of them. I knew I was going to need a vehicle. I might decide to stay on longer than I originally planned. I might even decide to drive cross-country when it’s time to leave.”

Leave. She was talking about leaving. Hank felt his loss. Well, he couldn’t let that happen, now could he? “It’s really snowing. Looks like it’s going to keep up. If it does, maybe we could go sledding like we used to. We could pull the twins on the sled. I think our old sleds are still in the attic. You could use Ben’s if you don’t have one.”

“Sounds like fun. I’m game. But not until I get the house set up for Christmas. You any good at setting up a tree?” She twinkled.

“The best tree-setter-upper there is. Takes two people, though. Ben and I always did it. It’s the lights that are a killer. The tinsel can drive you nuts. Ben always insisted on hanging one strand at a time. It took all night.”

“Really? Mom and Dad always did it after I went to bed. When I woke up, there was this magnificent tree all lit up, with all the junk I made through my school years. We didn’t have any fancy heirloom ornaments. How wonderful for you,” she said sadly.

“I didn’t know that, Mandy. What did you do for a tree in California?” Hank asked.

Amy bit down on her lip. “Flo wasn’t big on cleaning up pine needles in July. She said that’s how long it took to get them out of the house. We always had an artificial tree, and it glittered with shiny ornaments and white lights. The wreath on the door was artificial, too. It got a new red bow every year. We used to go swimming on Christmas Day and have a turkey. I did my best to sleep through the whole season.”

“I upset you, didn’t I? I’m sorry, Mandy. That wasn’t my intention.” Hank stretched out a hand to pat her arm.

Amy blinked away tears. “Well, we’ve arrived. Does Karen Powell still own OK Florist?”

“Yep. She expanded a few years back, added a nursery, and sells outdoor plants as well. Even trees. The parking lot is always full in the spring and summer.”

A bell tinkled over the door when Amy opened it. She looked around. It was just the way she remembered. New merchandise, but the old beams were still there, with greenery and decorations dangling downward. “It looks like a Wonderland with all the trees. It’s so festive, with all the greenery and red and white Santas. My gosh, I don’t know what to buy. I want a little of everything.”

“Then let’s get a little of everything,” Hank said happily. Damn, he was getting a large dose of Christmas spirit all of a sudden.

“Okay, but first I want to order the flowers for Mr. Carpenter so they can deliver them today. How about if I order a large arrangement and put your, Ben’s, and my name on the card?”

“Sure. Sounds great. Oh, and will you include Ben’s wife, Alice? Just tell me how much our share is.”

“No problem.”

Amy walked over to the counter and spoke to the girl behind the computer. She explained what she wanted, signed a card, and handed her a credit card. “I’m going to want a dozen or so of your poinsettias. All red. Shall I pick them out and put them by the door?” The frazzled clerk nodded as she punched in the order.

Amy and Hank spent the next hour picking out just-right poinsettias, knickknacks, and whatever pleased Amy. The clerk rang everything up while a young boy loaded the cargo hold of the Range Rover. She ripped off a tape and slapped it down on the counter in front of Hank along with Amy’s credit card. “Sign on the X.”

“No, that’s not my card,” Hank said, picking up the credit card. “Hold on, I’ll get my friend to come in and sign the slip.”

Hank walked over to the door and tapped on it. Amy turned around and smiled. He held up her credit card and motioned her to come inside. Without meaning to, he looked down at the platinum card in his hand and saw the name Amy Lee. He frowned. Who the hell was Amy Lee? What was Mandy Leigh doing with someone else’s credit card?

Hank’s stomach crunched into a knot as he stared at his old childhood friend as she walked toward him, a smile on her face. He realized at that moment he didn’t know a thing about Mandy Leigh. All he knew was she was home for the holidays and lived in California. Otherwise, all their conversations were on the generic side. He’d been loose as a goose and opened up and confessed to loving her.

The name Amy Lee sounded so familiar. Did he know her when they were kids? Was she a client or a client’s wife? Nothing was ringing a bell for him.

Who the hell was Amy Lee?

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Chapter Six

It wasn’t until Amy finished her third slice of pizza and drained the last of her root beer float that she realized she’d been doing all the talking. Hank had only eaten one slice of the delicious pizza, and his root beer float was basically untouched. He also had a strange look on his face. Like he wanted to say something or possibly ask her something and didn’t quite know how to go about it. The words “moody” and “sullen” came to mind. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She didn’t need this, no way, no how.

Maybe he thought she’d spent too much money at OK Florist. He’d commented on her Range Rover, calling it a pricey set of wheels. Maybe he had a thing about women spending money. He’d been fine before they got to the florist, so whatever was wrong had nothing to do with Mr. Carpenter or the dogs. It had to be her. Something about her was suddenly bothering him. She racked her brain to try to recall what she might have said or done that would make him so quiet all of a sudden.

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to worry about Hank and his moods. She had things to do and places to go. She fished some money out of her pocket and laid it on the table. After all, she’d invited him to lunch, so it was up to her to pay for it.

Amy got up and slipped into her jacket. The waiter approached and asked if she wanted change. She shook her head. “Are you ready, Hank?” she asked coolly.

“What?”

“I asked you if you were ready to leave. We came, we ate, I paid the bill, and now it’s time to leave. Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Sure. My mind is somewhere else. I’m sorry, Mandy.”

“I am, too,” Amy said as she headed for the door. She slammed through the door, not caring that Hank walked right into it as it was closing. She ignored his yelp of surprise and headed straight for the car. Midway to the Rover, a young woman in a Girl Scout uniform rushed up to her. “Would you care to donate to Mr. Carpenter’s funeral expenses?”

“What did you say?” The young girl repeated her question.

“I didn’t know…of course.” Amy emptied out her wallet.

“How about you, sir?”

“I didn’t bring my wallet with me. Tell me where I can drop off my contribution. I’ll do it as soon as I get home.”

“Mrs. Masterson. She lives at 82 Cypress Street. She’s in charge of the fund-raiser.”

“Okay, thanks.” Hank climbed into the Rover and buckled up. Amy peeled away the moment the door was closed securely. She clenched her teeth. If he thought she was going to start babbling, he needed to think again about his rude behavior. Some things were just not meant to be. So much for dreams and long-lost loves.

“The snow is really coming down,” Hank said, in an attempt to make conversation.

The snow wasn’t a question. So she didn’t have to respond.

Hank eyed Amy out of the corner of his eye. He tried again. “That’s pretty sad about Albert Carpenter. I knew he didn’t have any family left, but I would have thought he had some savings, enough to bury him.”

That wasn’t a question either. So she didn’t have to respond to it either. Instead, Amy concentrated on the falling snow and driving on the slick roads.

The rest of the ride home was made in silence on Amy’s part. She swerved into her driveway, turned off the engine, and hopped out of the Rover. “Don’t bother yourself. I can unload the truck later. I have other things I need to do now. Do you want to take the dogs now, or should I keep them?”

Her voice was as cold as the snow falling all about him. Hank did a double take. He knew a brush-off when he got one. He’d had more than enough in his lifetime to know the signals. He took a moment to wonder if Mandy was bipolar. One minute she was on top of the world, and the next she was doom and gloom. She hadn’t said a word on the drive home. “I’ll take them,” he said curtly.

“Fine,” Amy snapped. She opened the door, and both dogs ran to her to be petted. Hank did everything in his power to get Churchill to go with him. He finally had to give up when the big dog bared his teeth. “Guess that’s your answer, Mr. Anders.”

Mr. Anders? “Yeah, guess so.”

Amy moved to the door to close it. Then she added insult to injury, Hank thought, when he heard the deadbolt snick into place. He felt lower than a skunk’s belly when he hightailed it back to his brother’s house.

What the hell is going on?

The house was exceptionally quiet. Instead of calling out, Hank walked out to the kitchen to see Mason puttering around at the stove. “Is there any coffee, Mason? Did anyone call?”

“I just made fresh coffee. No one called, but your e-mail is pinging again. I just put the boys down for their naps. My agency has booked me for the next six months. All you need to do is call to confirm and give them your credit card information. Is something wrong, Mr. Anders? You look…dejected.”

Was something wrong? This guy was really astute. Hank wondered what kind of confidant he would make. He poured coffee. “What are you making?”

“Stew. I always make stew when it snows. The weatherman is predicting six inches of snow by morning. Did you go to the market, Mr. Anders? We need milk for the boys.”

“Stew is good. I’m going to go to the market when I finish this coffee. I have to get gas, too. What I said earlier…you know…about me being in love. That wasn’t true. Well, it was at the time, but it isn’t now. I overreacted. Women are so…what they are is…hell, what are they, Mason?”

“Complex. Fickle. Manipulative. Selfish. Mind you, I don’t know this for a fact, but I do read a lot. So, I guess what you’re saying is the lady next door spurned your advances. Would that be a correct assessment, Mr. Anders?”

“It will do. I didn’t do a damn thing. She froze on me. She goddamn well kicked me to the curb is what she did. What do you think about that, Mason?”

Mason opted to take the high road. “I think, sir, before I can comment, I would need to hear the young lady’s side. As you know, there are two sides to everything.”

“There must be something wrong with me. I was left standing at the altar a while back. The twins don’t like me. The dogs don’t want to come home. I don’t get it. I’m a stand-up guy. I’m nice to old people. I’ve always liked kids. I’m generous, never ask anyone to do anything I won’t do myself. My employees gave me a plaque that said I was the best boss in the world. I don’t have dandruff. I use a top-notch deodorant. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to comment on anything other than the boys. I think they sensed your uneasiness. In other words, you have little experience with toddlers. They sense your fear. I can’t be certain, but I imagine it’s probably the same thing with the animals.”

“What should I do?”

“Try to repair the damage. Relax. Flowers might be an option. You need to be comfortable with yourself. I really think you should go to the market now before the roads become hazardous, Mr. Anders. The boys drink a lot of milk.”

Hank looked over at the computer. He had the rest of the day and evening to check e-mails. Mason was right, he needed to get to the market and gas up the SUV. “Do you know how to bake a pie, Mason?”

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone? What kind would you like?”

“Berry. Anything berry. I don’t know how to bake a pie. I don’t know how to cook. Period.”

“Let me check the larder to see if the lady of the house has all the ingredients. I’ll make a list for you, Mr. Anders.”

Antsy with his inactivity, Hank walked into the living room so he could look out the window. He gasped when he saw Mandy and the dogs on Albert Carpenter’s front porch. Mandy was stringing wire on the back of the giant wreath she’d purchased at the florist shop. Even from here he could see how huge the big red bow was. He’d wanted to hang the wreath with her. Was she making a statement of some kind?

Hank felt guilty and knew it showed on his face when Mason came up behind him with his list. He held out Hank’s wallet. “I’m thinking you might need this.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t spying, Mason.”

“If you say so, Mr. Anders.”

“All right, I’m spying.”

Mason cleared his throat. “Have you given any thought to speaking with the young lady and telling her whatever it is that’s bothering you? It’s entirely possible that she’s reacting to something you did or said. For every action there is a reaction, Mr. Anders.”

Hank snorted. “Try this on for size, Mason. Why would the lady in question be using a credit card, a platinum one no less, with someone else’s name on it?”

“I’m sure there are many reasons why and how that could happen, Mr. Anders.”

“Oh, yeah, name me one,” Hank said belligerently.

Mason squared his shoulders. “Very well. Perhaps the card is in her maiden name. Perhaps it’s a corporate card. Perhaps the young lady uses a pseudonym. And, Mr. Anders, is it any of your business to begin with?”

“I’m outta here,” Hank barked as he opened the door. Slipping and sliding, he made his way to the SUV and turned on the engine and the heater while he cleaned the snow off the truck. He kept looking over at the Carpenter house, hoping Mandy would acknowledge him. She didn’t. The dogs were so intent on romping in the snow, they weren’t even aware of him.

“Screw it,” Hank muttered as he backed out of the driveway. His first stop was the Masterson house on Cypress Street.

Ten minutes later he was ringing the doorbell. A pleasant woman opened the door and smiled at him. He reached for his wallet and explained that he was there to give a donation for Albert Carpenter’s funeral.

“That’s very nice of you but some very kind, generous person is paying for the funeral. Mr. Dial just called a little while ago. This same person, who I’m told wishes to remain anonymous, also paid for the church ladies to prepare a dinner after…after the burial. Everything has been taken care of, but thank you for stopping by.”

Hank nodded and shrugged as he jammed his wallet back in his pocket.

Two hours later, Hank was back at the house, with the SUV gassed up and enough groceries to feed an army for a month.

He looked across the yard and saw that the colored Christmas lights had been turned on. Wise move. This way Mandy wouldn’t have to get dressed and slog through the snow when it got dark out. The huge evergreen wreath on the door looked festive. He craned his neck trying to see into the cargo hold of the Range Rover to see if the contents had been removed. He couldn’t see a thing with the falling snow and the tinted windows.

Disgusted with himself and his circumstances, Hank carried in the groceries. He smiled at the childish laughter coming from the family room.

While Mason unpacked the groceries, Hank made a fire, then settled himself on the floor, not close to the twins but just far enough away so they wouldn’t pitch a fit. He watched them interact with each other as they played with their toys. From time to time they looked over at him to see what he was doing. He wiggled his fingers and made funny faces. Then he rolled across the floor and hid his face. It was all the boys needed. Suddenly they were all over him, yanking at his hair, sitting on his back, then rolling over themselves.

Hank sat up. The boys looked at him as much as to say, is the fun over? “You guys look just like your daddy. He’s one lucky man. You’re pretty lucky, too, to have a dad like Ben. I’m sorry your mom isn’t here. She…I know she misses you, but she has some…issues right now. I think she’ll be home for Christmas. God, I hope she comes home for Christmas.”

The boys trundled off when they realized the giant on the floor was done playing. Hank rolled over and stared at the fire blazing up the chimney.

Where are you, Alice? He just knew in his gut that Alice would be able to explain Mandy’s attitude. Women knew everything about other women. He sat up and moved over to the gate to step over it. Time to check the e-mails. He sniffed; the kitchen smelled just the way a kitchen was supposed to smell, fragrant and homey. He said so. Mason beamed with pleasure at the compliment.

Hank clicked on the e-mail and saw a note from Alice. Another list! Not a word about her return.

- The boys get a chewable Flintstone vitamin every morning. The bottle is on the kitchen windowsill.

- Trash pickup is tomorrow morning. Both cans are full. Separate the glass bottles from plastic. Containers in the garage. Bundle all paper products and put in separate bin. All bins are labeled in the garage.

- Buy gas for the snowblower. Container is empty. Otherwise, shovel the driveway.

- Wash Churchill’s pee pads in Clorox.

- Lightbulbs on front porch are burned out. Replace them.

And that was the end of the list. Hank printed it out.

“I have to take the trash out, Mason. And I need to check the snowblower. I think I’ll walk to the gas station for gas. You have things under control here, right?”

“Yes, sir, I do. The pie is coming along nicely. The stew is simmering. I’m going to do some laundry. Do whatever you have to do.”

“The boys need their vitamins. They’re on the windowsill.”

“I took care of that, sir.”

“The pee pads need to be washed in Clorox.”

“I’ve taken care of that, sir. The boys’ laundry is washing now.”

“You’re right, Mason, you do have it under control.”

Hank grabbed his jacket and entered the garage through the kitchen. He checked the snowblower. He had an identical one at home in New York, so he knew how to work it. Alice was right, though, it was bone dry, as was the gas container. He made fast work of bundling the paper products and separating the glass and plastic bottles. Then he dragged the heavy trash cans through the snow and out to the curb. How the hell did Alice do all this? He was huffing and puffing when he made his seventh trip down the driveway.

Should he start to shovel the driveway, or should he slog his way to the gas station for gas? He looked around for the shovel but didn’t see one. He snorted as he grabbed the gas can and started down the driveway. He stopped in his tracks when he heard Churchill bark. He strained to see through the snow. Is that Mandy on the front porch of the Carpenter house? What the hell is she doing now?

“Hey, what are you doing?” he yelled.

“Decorating. Why do you care what I’m doing?” Amy shouted back.

Hank sucked in his breath and got a mouthful of snow. He didn’t mean to say the words, they just popped out of his mouth. “Do you need any help?”

Amy strained to see through the swirling snow. She could use some help. “Yeah,” she said before she could change her mind. Maybe she could get to the bottom of whatever it was that was bothering Hank.

He was on the porch a minute later, the orange gas can in his hand. “I was going for gas for the snowblower. I can do your driveway if you like. What are you doing?”

“I’m decorating Mr. Carpenter’s front porch. I found all of our old decorations in the garage. Mom bought all of these reindeer one year and the sleigh. Don’t you remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do remember. Your family won the prize that year for the best-decorated house. Why aren’t you putting them up on your own front porch?”

Good question. “I’m not sure why. I just wanted to do something for Mr. Carpenter. He was always so big on Christmas even though he and his wife never had children. Remember how he used to say because he was a teacher all us kids were his children? Maybe it’s a send-off of sorts.

“I came back home because I was trying…I wanted…I guess I was trying to recapture that last Christmas that I never had. You can’t go home again, Hank,” she said sadly. “I wish so much that I had come back sooner. I wish I had told Mr. Carpenter how much he meant to me growing up. I wish so many things. I guess I’m trying to make up for that. Is it right? Is it wrong? I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just need to do this. For me and for Mr. Carpenter.”

Hank stared at the young woman standing across from him, tears in her eyes. “It makes sense to me,” he said. “You’re the one who paid for the funeral, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“I went to the Mastersons’ to leave my donation. She told me an anonymous donor called Mr. Dial and paid for it. Tell me right now, who is Amy Lee? What were you doing with someone else’s credit card? I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Amy slid down on her haunches, her back against the front door. “Is that what your attitude was all about? Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Well, I didn’t…All kinds of crazy thoughts were going through my mind. I was devastated when my thoughts…We were hitting it off so well. It was like a dream came true, then suddenly there was a glitch. I’ve been trying to deal with Alice and all that mess. So, who is Amy Lee? The name sounds familiar to me.”

“Me. I’m Amy Lee. Flo and the studio wanted me to change my name. Flo wanted to wipe this place, my early years away. And yet she stayed in touch with the people here. She made sure the house was taken care of, cleaned and aired several times a year. It just never made any sense to me.”

“Studio? What’s that mean?”

“I’m a movie star. I work in Hollywood. I make pictures. Even got nominated for an Academy Award twice, but I didn’t win.”

“You’re a movie star! Well, damn! I guess that’s why the name sounded familiar. I haven’t been to the movies in years and years. Are you good?”

Amy laughed. “I get by. I came back here thinking I wasn’t going to go back to Hollywood. I had thoughts of retiring after I finish out my contract. I might be able to buy it out, at least that’s what my agent said. I never understood how I could be good at something I didn’t like doing. I still don’t understand it. I’ve had enough. I’m not sure I want to stay in Apple Valley, though. I was hoping to find some answers here. I know now the answers are inside me. This place is just a memory, but I’m smart enough to know I have to lay it to rest before I can go on. My big regret is it’s taken me so long.”

Hank inched closer to Amy. “I don’t know what to say. I feel stupid for jumping to conclusions. I’m sorry, Mandy. Or should I call you Amy?”

“My name is Mandy. I hated it that they took away my name. First my parents, Apple Valley, then my name. I was just a kid back then, and while I tried to deal with it, I guess I didn’t do such a good job of it. What were you saying about your sister-in-law?”

Hank explained the situation. Amy burst out laughing and couldn’t stop. “I’m on her side. Boy, did that take guts. She must really trust you, though, to leave her kids with you.”

“Well, I didn’t do so good. Those kids hated me on sight. Churchill hated me and ran to you. I had to hire a nanny. A guy!” Hank said, his eyes almost bugging out of his head. “He had things under control in ten minutes. He cooks, does laundry. Hey, the guy is IT.” Then he told her about Ben’s e-mail. “So for my Christmas present to the family, I hired Mason for six months to help Alice. Ben will be back home by that time to pick up the slack.”

“That’s so wonderful, Hank! When are you going to tell Alice?”

“I can’t tell her anything because I don’t know where she is. She said she was going to a hotel to pamper herself.”

“No, no, that’s not what she’s doing if their financial situation is so precarious. She’s probably staying with a friend and talking it all to death. She was overwhelmed, that’s the bottom line. I give her another day, and she’ll be back. She’s a mother, she won’t abandon her kids. Trust me.”

“You think?”

“I do, Hank. It’s not easy being a single mom, and that’s what she is with Ben away. It all falls on her. She’s just one person, and there are just twenty-four hours in a day. She’s frazzled. What you’re planning on doing is a wonderful thing. I just wish there was a way to tell her to ease her misery.”

Hank nodded. “So we’re friends again, right?”

“Of course. If you help me get the sleigh over here, I can finish up while you go for the gas. Are we still going to the wake this evening?”

“Absolutely, but we might have to walk.”

“I have boots, so it won’t be a problem. Okay, let’s go get that sleigh.”

Hank reached for her arm and linked his with hers as they trudged across the lawns to Amy’s garage. Minutes later, the sleigh was on Albert Carpenter’s front porch, and Hank was on his way to the gas station that was only a block and a half away. He started to sing “Jingle Bells” as he trudged along. He looked down when he felt something hit his knee. “Churchill!”

“Woof.”

“Hey, big guy, how’re you doing? Where’s Miss Sadie? Yeah, yeah, she’s no fool, I bet she’s sitting in that sleigh. It’s just me and you, Churchill. You know what, I’m not even mad at you because Mandy’s one in a million. You got good taste, I’ll say that for you.”

“Woof.”

“Jingle bells…”

Chapter Seven

The caravan of cars leaving the snow-filled cemetery was several miles long. Albert Carpenter had been laid to rest, and the whole town had turned out to show their regard and to honor the man who had done so much for the education system.

It hadn’t been a sad affair at all. More like a celebration of Albert’s life. The wake that started at six the previous evening had gone on well past midnight to allow all the citizens of Apple Valley to pay their respects. They came in trucks, on sleds, on skis, and the sanitation workers had shown up on the town’s snowplow.

During his teaching years, Albert had always conducted the Christmas Pageant, and when the actors took their final bow, the audience and cast alike had stayed to sing Christmas carols. And that’s what they did this year before the funeral director closed the doors for the night. Until her passing, Mrs. Carpenter had been in charge of the refreshments. This night, Apple Valley’s school principal did the honors.

So many memories had been shared, but the most poignant of all had been the story of Albert’s financial problems that so few knew about. All his savings had gone to cover his wife’s long illness. He’d been forced to take out a reverse mortgage that allowed him to continue to live in the house until his death. Albert Carpenter had died with just a few dollars in the bank, but he didn’t owe anyone a dime. In fact, Charles Leroy from the bank said he’d made his final payment to the hospital just two months ago. Then he said something that brought tears to everyone’s eyes. “Albert didn’t want to join his wife until all his earthly debts were paid. It wouldn’t look right or feel right knowing he was leaving others to pick up his slack.”

Hank drove carefully in the long procession, no more than five miles an hour. “I thought the Apple Valley Band did a good job,” he said. “You know what else, I’m glad you decided to decorate Albert’s porch. I bet the town awards the prize to him this year. Posthumously.”

“I liked that we all sang carols, just as we used to in school. It was sad, and yet it wasn’t sad. He was so loved. Apple Valley and the people here are so special, Hank. There’s so much kindness and goodness here. People actually care about one another. They help out and don’t expect anything in return. It’s not that way in California. Well, maybe it is, but I’ve never witnessed it. It’s not just the season, is it, Hank?”

“No, Mandy, it’s not just the season. This little place is just one of a kind. I used to think I should come back here and live, but then I told myself no, I needed to leave, to move on so someone else could move here and experience this life. For me to stay would have been selfish. Ben now. Ben was different. He said his roots were here, and he wasn’t digging them up. This was home to him, and while he and Alice have lived all over, this was the place he always came back to.

“When we were growing up, the population was just a little under four thousand. Today it’s almost six thousand. That’s not a great increase, but it’s something to pay attention to. I do know one thing for certain: I’ll come back here to retire.”

“Me, too,” Amy said happily. “So, are we going to go sledding this afternoon or not?”

“I’m up for it, but first we have to go to the dinner at the church. I offered our services, but Father Mac said if he got any more volunteers, he’d have to move out. In other words, all we have to do is show up and eat. It’s all under control. That was a good thing you did, Mandy.”

Amy’s face turned pink. She just nodded.

Hank pretended he didn’t notice her discomfort. “I’m not sure, but I think I saw Alice at the cemetery. She was so bundled up, and the crowd was so dense, I can’t swear to it, but I think it was her. She really liked Albert. Ben told me when she cooked she would always take something over. He was partial to peach pie, and she’d make it special for him in the summer when peaches were in season. When in the hell is she going to come home? It’s almost Christmas.”

Amy shrugged. “My guess would be when she can’t stand being away from her sons one minute longer. Which is probably any minute now. Did you finish everything on her lists?”

“Almost. I have to get the tree and put it up. I guess I’m supposed to shop for the boys. I’m clueless in that department. Alice always decorates the house, so I guess I should do that, too, since she’ll want to take pictures to send to Ben.”

“I have an idea, Hank. Instead of going sledding, let’s go get all our trees and set them up. I remember Mom saying you have to put it up in the stand, then let it sit for a day so the branches fall into place. I’d like to put one on Mr. Carpenter’s porch, too. I think for sure that will make him a shoo-in for the Christmas prize. After we take care of that, we can go shopping for the boys. What say you?”

Hank reached over to take Amy’s hand in his own. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Amy thought her hand was going to go up in flames. “Something’s happening to us, isn’t it?” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Hank’s response was husky, almost tortured. “Yeah. Yeah, something is happening. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

Amy laughed. “From where I’m sitting, a very good thing.”

Hank squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

The church parking lot was so full, Hank had to park two blocks away. Once they managed to get inside, they had to get in a line that wrapped all the way around the room and out the side door.

Amy found herself standing next to Karen Powell from OK Florist. They chatted a few moments while Hank met up with a friend of Ben’s. “Do you have any extra poinsettias, Karen?”

“A shipment was due this morning. It might have been delayed with the snow, but sometime today for certain. Why?”

“Will you send two dozen plants to the Anders house? Hank and I are going to decorate it today. As a matter of fact, we’re going to get the trees this afternoon.”

“You might not know this, but I’m selling trees myself. We have them staked up in the nursery. You might not have seen them. And, we deliver!” she added, laughing.

Amy laughed. “Put us down for three trees. We’ll stop by when we leave here and tag them.”

“Will do.”

It was after one o’clock when Amy and Hank climbed back into Alice’s SUV to do some Christmas shopping. The crowds in the small village carried gaily colored shopping bags as they walked from store to store. Children bundled in snowsuits and mufflers pulled sleds filled with packages. Gaily dressed Santas stood in doorways handing out candy canes and hot chocolate. Holiday music wafted from loudspeakers mounted on the telephone poles that surrounded the square.

Apple Valley was small-town America at its finest.

“This is nothing like New York.” Hank laughed as he accepted a cup of hot chocolate from an elf standing in the doorway of Jones’s Pharmacy. Amy opted for a candy cane. They moved on, finally coming to stop at a small toy store. Inside, they turned into little kids, their selections outrageous until they stopped in their tracks, looked at one another, and reminded themselves the twins were just a year old. Sheepishly, they replaced the Barbie and Ken dolls and the catchers’ mitts.

When they finally left the store, the stock boy tagged along behind them, their purchases piled high on a dolly. When they were loaded into the cargo hold and the door shut and locked, Hank turned to Amy, and said, “Do you think we’ll have this much fun when we buy toys for our own kids?”

Whoa. She turned around hoping she could be cool. Cool? Amy’s heart was beating so fast she thought it was going to leap right out of her chest. She struggled for a flip answer of some sort. Nothing came to her. Besides, Hank was looking at her so intently, she needed to respond. “Don’t you have to ask me to marry you before the kids come? You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

“Not true,” Hank said lightly. “I kissed you once, and I never forgot the feeling. That kiss lasted twenty-one seconds.”

“You counted the seconds?” Amy asked in awe.

“Yeah. I thought I was going to black out. I was in love with you. I realized I was still in love with you the minute I set eyes on you.”

Amy was so light-headed with Hank’s declaration she reached for the side mirror to hold on to it. Hank had just said he loved her. That’s what he said. The words were still ringing in her ears. All her dreams were finally coming true. She was supposed to say something. What?

Hank shuffled his feet in the snow. His voice sounded so anxious when he said, “Your turn.”

The words were stuck in her throat. She wanted to say them. Instead, she leaned forward, grabbed his jacket in her mittened hands, and yanked him forward. She planted a lip-lock on him that made her head spin.

“Twenty-seven seconds!” she shouted gleefully when she came up for air.

The sound of handclapping brought both of them to their senses as a small laughing crowd moved off.

“Wow!” was all Hank could think of to say.

“That’s it, wow!” Amy said. “You up for an encore?”

Hank groaned. He was no fool. He moved closer. All the years of pent-up longing melted away when he brought his lips down on hers. This moment he knew seared his future. When he finally released her he looked into her eyes and saw what he knew was mirrored in his own. In a low, husky voice, he asked, “How many seconds?”

In a voice as shaky as Hank’s, Amy said, “Are you kidding, I wasn’t counting.”

“Oh, who cares? You going to marry me?”

“If that’s a proposal, the answer is yes.”

Hank backed up a step. He looked to Amy like he was in a daze. She smiled.

He smiled.

“We should go to pick out the Christmas trees, Hank.”

“Yep. That’s what we should do,” Hank said.

“But are we going to do that?”

Hank groaned as he opened the passenger-side door for her. “Yes, that’s what we’re going to do, but later, we are going to do other things.”

“Promises, promises.” Amy giggled. My God, when was the last time I giggled? Never, that’s when. She leaned back and closed her eyes. She realized she had never been as happy as she was at this moment.

Hank laughed, a joyous sound. “There’s something you need to know about me. I never make a promise I don’t intend to keep. I don’t know when I’ve been this happy,” he blurted.

Amy laughed again. “Me, too. It’s such a wonderful feeling. More so because it’s the holiday season. Everything seems to be special during this time.” Her voice turned serious a moment later. “But there’s Mr. Carpenter and Alice. Are we being…?”

“No. It was Albert’s time. Alice…well, Alice made her own decisions. While we both understand that, we’re doing what we think is right. We’re doing what we can for Alice. Albert…is beyond our control. Somehow I think he would be very happy for the both of us. No, that’s wrong, Mandy. I know Albert would be very happy for us. Okay, enough of all this. Are you ready to pick out the biggest, the best, the most-wonderful-smelling tree in the lot?”

“I’m ready, Mr. Anders,” Amy said, hopping out of the truck.

An hour later they were covered in pine resin, but they had three trees that Hank said were the best of the best. The young guy working the tree lot shoved the trees through a barrel. They came out the other end covered in white netting. They watched as he loaded them into a pickup truck and hopped into the cab, where he waited for instructions.

While Hank paid for the trees, Amy explained where the trees were to be delivered. The young man nodded and peeled out of the parking lot, snow spiraling backward in his wake.

“Bet you five bucks those trees are home before we get there,” Amy said, walking hand in hand with Hank back to the SUV. “Wait! Wait! We have to buy tree stands.”

Together they walked back to the tree lot, where Hank picked out three stands capable of holding the big trees. He whipped out his credit card, paid for the stands, then they were on the way home. A light snow started to fall again as they hit the main road.

“Pay up,” Amy said when Hank swerved into the driveway. All three trees were exactly where Amy had told the youngster to put them. Hank kissed her instead.

“That’ll work.” Amy giggled again. She felt like a teenager as she helped Hank cut away the netting to set up the tree in the stand on the Carpenter front porch. When they were finished, Hank stood back and said, “It’s a beauty, perfect in every way. Tomorrow we can decorate it.”

“Oh, it smells so good. Growing up, you could smell the tree all over the house. I loved it then as much as I love it now. I guess it’s the kid in me. That won’t change, will it, Hank?”

Hank for some reason knew this was a very important question, and he had to give just the right answer. “Memories are a wonderful thing, Mandy. Sometimes they fade in time, but if you work at remembering, then I think they’ll be with you forever. The special memories. Like this one. Christmas was always the best time of year when we were kids. All the wild anticipation, the frenzy of the shopping, the tree, the snow, the way the house smelled. Ben and I used to talk about it. For the most part I think he and Alice pretty much duplicated everything. For them it was easier because they’re in the house we grew up in. I know it was different for you after…but see, you still have those wonderful earlier memories.” He looked at her expectantly to see if she was in agreement. She smiled, and his world was right side up.

“Okay, let’s set up the tree for the boys. Then we can go back to your house and set yours up and do…other things. What say you?”

Amy giggled again. “Won’t work, Hank. We have to decorate the house for Alice. I don’t know why I say this because it’s just a feeling. I think Alice is waiting until that’s done before she returns home. Having said that, let’s get to it. But before we get started, I think I’d like a cup of coffee. Your house or mine?”

“Well, since we have so much work ahead of us, I guess it should be the Anders house. I imagine the twins will be awake from their nap by now. I can’t wait for you to meet them, and Mason as well.”

“I have to let the dogs out first. I’ll be over in a few minutes.” Amy kissed him lightly on the lips before she tripped her way to her own front door.

Inside, she ran to the back door to let the dogs out, then leaned against it. She was shaking from head to toe. She was in love. Hank loved her. She loved him. How wonderful is that? Is this one of those Christmas miracles?

Was this love going to come with a price on it? Amy closed her eyes and thought about her home in Hollywood, thought about her contract, the few friends she had, and what her agent was going to say when she told him to buy out her contract. What would all those people on her payroll do if she turned her back on Hollywood? She could bonus them out and wish them luck in finding a new job. Was she getting ahead of herself? Probably, but she didn’t care.

Hank had asked her to marry him, so that had to mean they would live where his business was. Maybe they could buy the Carpenter house from the mortgage company and have a home here in Apple Valley. She knew in her heart that Mr. Carpenter would approve. She rather thought Hank would approve, too. They could watch the twins grow up, and if they had kids of their own, they could play together. Win-win all around. She could hardly wait to tell Hank her idea.

The dogs scratched at the door to come in. She opened the back door to let the dogs in, and they all left together by the front door.

The twins squealed their pleasure when the dogs romped through the family room, Churchill leaping over the gate, Miss Sadie waiting patiently for Hank to lift her over it. Mason stood at the kitchen gate, his jaw dropping at the commotion. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply. The twins stopped in midsqueal. Both dogs turned to look expectantly at the strange new person emitting the high-pitched whistle. “That will be enough of that. SIT!” Since both dogs were already sitting, they continued to stare at the person towering over them. “Very good. I am the Alpha. You need to understand that. Having said that, here is your treat for the afternoon.” Mason handed out two dog treats, and hard crackers to the boys. Mason turned and was back a second later with a basket of dog toys that had been in the laundry room.

Hank nudged Amy. He hissed in her ear. “I don’t know how he does it. He’s unreal. Alice is going to be soooo happy. If she ever comes home.”

“Mandy, this is Mason. Mason, this is Mandy, she’s from California, and she’s visiting. Next door.”

Mason bowed low, then reached for her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet any friend of Mr. Anders.”

“Mandy is a movie star. Her other name is Amy Lee.”

“Ah. Am I to assume, sir, that things have progressed, and we are no longer in jeopardy?”

Hank blinked. The guy could talk in code, but he got it. “Yes, it’s safe to assume that, Mason. By any chance, do you have any coffee made?”

“No, but I will be more than happy to prepare some. I just baked some brownies.”

“I love brownies,” Amy said. Mason beamed. The man does love compliments, Hank thought.

“We’re going to set the tree up in the living room. Unless you have a better idea, Mason?”

“No, the living room will be fine. I think it best so the boys won’t be tempted to play with the ornaments. And, of course, the animals have to be taken into consideration. I understand via the Internet that male dogs and trees are not compatible. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me for anything.”

“That means we’re dismissed,” Hank whispered in Amy’s ear.

The twins toddled over to the gate. Hank bent down and picked them both up. They giggled and laughed as they yanked at his hair and pulled at his nose. “I can’t tell them apart,” he confessed. “Come on now, give me a big kiss. Ohhh, that was sooo good. Give me another one.” The boys obliged, and then they were done with the bonding and wanted down on the floor.

“I can see how they would be a handful,” Amy said. “They’re sweet as honey, and they both look just like Ben.”

They watched for another minute or so as the boys rough-and-tumbled with the dogs, who were happy to play.

“Let’s get to it, Mandy. We have a Christmas tree to put up.” The doorbell rang and Amy opened it. “Oh, look, our poinsettias are here. I’ll set them out while you bring in the tree. By the way, do you know where Alice keeps the decorations? You said she was big on decorating the house. We need to do that, too.”

“Probably in the attic. I’ll get them down as soon as we set up the tree. Just let me know when the coffee is ready.”

It was four o’clock when Mason and the twins oohed and aahed over the couple’s Christmas decorations. The tree was up, and it bathed the house in what Amy called a delicious balsam scent. She said she could smell it on the second floor. Poinsettias lined the stairway and were nestled in all the corners. The foyer held a small artificial tree, decorated with colored lights and tiny gossamer angels dangling from the branches. Amy surmised it had a special memory for Alice because of the care that had been taken when it was packed away. Fat ceramic Santas sat at each side of the door. Thick red candles were placed on each end of the mantel along with branches of live greenery that Hank cut off the bottom of the tree. Amy stuck bright red bows in and among the branches and dangled a few strands of tinsel. “Very festive,” Hank said, taking Amy’s arm in his. “Just think, next year we can do this in our own house.” Amy just smiled. And smiled.

The twins gibbered and giggled as they pointed to the giant-size Santa standing next to the fireplace, his backpack loaded with colored boxes with bright red ribbons. Churchill sniffed it out. His intentions seemed obvious to all of them until Mason cleared his throat in warning. The golden dog lowered his leg and backed away, his tail between his legs.

“Good dog,” Mason said as he handed out treats again, then opened the back door. Both dogs ran outside as the twins went back to pushing and shoving each other.

“No, no, no! We do not push, and we do not shove,” Mason said as he wagged his finger at the boys. One of the boys, Hank wasn’t sure which one, stomped his foot and started to cry.

“Sit down and fold your hands, young man. We do not slap and pinch our brother.” The toddler sat down and folded his hands. He sniffed, but he stopped crying. Mason handed out raisins in small cups, and the boys were happy again.

“That guy needs to be cloned,” Hank said.

Amy looked around. “I don’t think there’s anything left to do here. I think I’m going to go home and take a shower. You want to come over for dinner?”

Hank grimaced. “That depends on Mason. I think he might want to go home early. Why don’t you come over here? I’m sure we can find something to eat here. In fact, I know we can. He’s cooking something that smells pretty darn good, and there are those brownies we bypassed when we had our coffee.”

“Okay, if that’s an invitation, I accept. We can put my tree up tomorrow. I’ll cut the netting off and lean it up against the house. See you later.”

Hank kissed her good-bye. He watched from the doorway until she was safely in her own house. God, I am so happy.

“It would appear you are in love again. Is that a clear assessment, Mr. Anders?”

“On the money, Mason. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

“You do…work fast. She’s quite lovely. It would appear she returns your feelings. Is there any news on Mrs. Anders?”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. God, I hope she comes back soon. The boys seem so happy. It bothers me. Don’t they miss her?”

“Of course they miss her. They keep looking around for her. They whimper and suck their thumbs, but they can’t talk, so you just have to figure it out for yourself. No one can take a mother’s place. No one.” This last was said with such vehemence that Hank winced.

What Mason said was true, Hank thought. It also explained Mandy’s return and her search for yesterday.

Hank let loose with a long sigh. Thank God he had decided to come back to Apple Valley for the holidays. In doing so he was going to be able to help Alice in both the short and long term, and just by being here, he’d fallen in love all over again. If anyone could help Mandy lay her old ghosts to rest, it was him. He crossed his fingers hoping he was right.

Chapter Eight

Alice Anders paced the narrow confines of her friend’s tiny apartment. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Am I out of my mind? No sane person would do what I’ve done. No sane person would abandon her home, her children, and her husband’s dog. Even if Ben was a perfect dad, she’d fallen down on her job and screwed up big-time. That was the bottom line.

She looked down at the tabby cat circling her feet. Chloe was her name. She picked her up and cuddled her against her neck. This little animal didn’t mess in the house, she had her own private sanitation boxes in the tiny laundry room and in the bathroom. She didn’t make mistakes. And she cleaned herself religiously, unlike Churchill, who messed all over and rolled in mud whenever he felt like it. Giving him a bath always clogged the bathtub drain and then it was eighty-five dollars to get it unclogged. Her budget, stringent as it was, had ceased to exist months and months ago. Her credit cards were maxed out. She lived day to day.

She’d wigged out. How cool was that? More tears flowed. Ben was going to pitch a fit when Hank told him what she’d done. Chloe licked at her tears. God, how she ached to hold her sons.

Coming here to her friend’s small apartment had seemed like the answer to all her problems. She’d gotten the idea when her best friend in Apple Valley, a first-grade teacher named Marie, had said she was going home to Seattle for the holidays. She’d given her the key and asked her to check on Chloe from time to time.

Her intention was to veg out, to fall back and regroup. To take bubble baths, to eat when and if she felt like it, to drink wine while she was soaking in a tub, and to sleep peacefully through the night with no interruptions. It hadn’t happened that way at all. She was lucky if she slept two hours a night, and what sleep she got was fitful. There was no bathtub to luxuriate in, only a stall shower. She didn’t have money for wine, and Marie didn’t have cable television. She, too, lived on a budget.

The only thing she proved to herself was that she was an unfit mother. A slacker as a wife. She wasn’t Supermom, and she never would be. That title would have to go to someone else, someone a lot more worthy than she.

Did the twins miss her? Probably not. Churchill hated her, so there was no point in even asking herself if the big golden retriever missed her. He probably hoped she never came back. The tears flowed again. She looked like a witch with the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair needed to be cut and styled.

Alice’s wild pacing led her to the bathroom and the huge mirror on the back of the door. Well, if nothing else, she’d shed a few pounds.

What did Hank think about what she’d done? How was he coping? She wished she knew what he’d told Ben. Ben was going to be so disappointed in her.

Alice splashed cold water on her face, combed her hair, smoothed down the sweat suit she’d arrived in, and tidied the apartment. She made sure Chloe had bowls of food and water not only in the bathroom but the kitchenette, too. She cleaned the two litter boxes and put in fresh litter. She set the thermostat to seventy and sat down to drink her fifth cup of coffee. She didn’t need this fifth cup of coffee. She was killing time, and she knew it. She’d made a mess of things, and now it was time to stand up and take the blame for what she’d done. She started to cry again. Like tears were really going to help her out.

It was totally dark now. Christmas Eve. It had always been the happiest time of the year, at least for her. Ben, too. How often they talked about how perfect life was here in Apple Valley. Especially at Christmastime. And she’d ruined it all. Her. No one else. She’d single-handedly ruined everything for everyone with her stupid actions. How in the name of God was she ever going to make this right?

By going home, a voice inside her head whispered, You go back, you stand tall, you apologize and get your life back. After…after she hugged and kissed her two little boys. She had to apologize to them, too, not that they would understand, but she’d do it anyway.

Still, she didn’t move. Because…because she was a coward.

Alice stood up, drained her coffee, then washed out the cup and cleaned the coffeepot. She took one last look around the tiny apartment, checked on Chloe one last time by giving her a hug before she settled her in her little bed next to the sofa. She turned out all the lights, put on her heavy down jacket, and left the apartment.

Outside, Alice hunkered into her jacket as she made the long trek back to her house. There was little traffic, the citizenry of Apple Valley were secure in their houses, building fires, having dinner, and getting ready for the big man in the red suit.

It was bitter cold, and the tears escaping her eyes were freezing on her eyelashes. She barely noticed as she trudged along. She had to walk along the roadside because of the piled-up snow. Her sneakers were cold and wet. She’d never been more miserable in her entire life.

When she reached her neighborhood, Alice climbed over the banks of piled-up snow onto the shoveled sidewalk. How pretty it all looked, with the snow on the evergreens and the colored lights on the houses and in the trees.

Christmas in Apple Valley.

Soon the church choir would be out caroling. She and Ben always went caroling since they belonged to the choir. She’d had to give it up when the boys came along. She’d had to give up everything when the boys came along. Even Ben. She knew the thought was unfair. She’d known what it meant to marry a military man when she agreed to marry Ben. She had no one to blame for her circumstances except herself.

Alice rounded the corner to her street and stopped short when she noticed the crowds of people at Albert Carpenter’s house. Then she smiled when she saw the front porch that was decorated to the nines. For sure the Apple Valley prize would go to this piece of property. How sad that Albert would never know how loved he was.

It looked to Alice like everyone had brought something to add to the decorations someone had been kind enough to set up. The tree was magnificent, with its twinkling lights. The boys would love the reindeer and the sleigh packed with gaily colored packages. Small statues lined the steps. Santas, elves, ceramic Christmas trees. Gossamer angels trailing red ribbons dangled on wires from the beams on the porch.

At first glance it all looked cluttered until you saw the homemade drawings, the cards tacked to the pillars that held up the porch. And then your second glance said it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Alice tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She just knew she was the only person in town who had not left something on that wide, wonderful front porch. Well, she would have to remedy that as soon as she could. Not because Ben would never forgive her if she didn’t, but because she wanted to. No, that was wrong, she needed to do it.

Alice wondered if there was anyone in the whole world who understood what she had been going through with the exception of Albert Carpenter. She’d poured out her heart to him so many times these past months. For his comfort she’d knocked herself out trying to take care of him—she cooked for him, cleaned his house, shopped for him, and did his laundry. Not that there weren’t others who would have helped, but she hadn’t asked. She’d wanted to do it because he was like a wise old grandfather, and he dearly loved Ben and Hank and a little girl named Mandy Leigh. No, she was not Supermom or super anything. She was just plain old Alice Avery Anders. Triple A Alice, as Ben called her from time to time.

Alice moved on, and soon enough she was standing at her own front door. She turned the knob, but the door was locked from the inside. How stupid. She’d given Hank her keys. She rang the bell. The door opened. All she could do was stand there with tears in her eyes. Hank stretched out his arms, and she stepped into them. “Oh, Hank, I’m so…”

“Shhh. You don’t need to apologize for anything. I’m just so damn glad that you’re home. God, I can’t tell you how glad I am. Come in, come in, it’s freezing out there.”

Alice stepped back and stared up at her brother-in-law. “I…need…”

Hank placed his index finger against Alice’s lips. “No, you don’t need to do anything but love those kids of yours. They’re in the family room waiting for you.”

Alice shrugged out of her jacket and ran to the family room. Like Hank, she vaulted over the gate and gathered up her twin boys, holding them close. Churchill and Miss Sadie vied for her attention. “Oh, God, I forgot about Miss Sadie. C’mere, you little bundle of love.”

Hank backed away and bumped into Mason, who was wiping the corners of his eyes. “It would appear the lady of the house has returned. What would you suggest I do, Mr. Anders?”

“Well, after I introduce you to your new employer, you might want to go home to your own family and enjoy Christmas.”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Anders, I don’t have a family.”

“In that case, Mason, how would you like to spend the holidays with us? As our guest.”

“I think I would like that very much, sir. I would imagine Mrs. Anders will…ah, want to bathe her sons herself this evening, so I’ll tidy up the kitchen. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“Nope.” Hank walked back to the family room and called out to Alice. “There’s someone here you need to meet, Alice.” Hank drew Mason forward. “Meet your new nanny. Alice, this is Mason. Mason, this is Mrs. Anders. Mason is my Christmas present to you, Ben, and the boys. He’s going to be here every day until Ben gets back home. The boys love him, and, if you can believe this, Churchill actually listens and does his business outside. He doesn’t jump the fence anymore either.”

Tears rolled down Alice’s cheeks as she reached out to shake Mason’s hand. The boys toddled over to him, begging to be picked up. “It’s almost bath time, madam, do you wish to do the honors, or shall I?”

Alice looked like she was in shock. “I…really, Hank, I have a nanny until Ben gets home? Oh, God, you dear sweet man. How did you know that was what I wished for? Oh, it doesn’t matter.” She looked from Hank to Mason and said something Hank found strange. “If you don’t mind, Mason, tonight I need you to bathe the boys. I have to go up in the attic to find something. From here on in, I’ll do the bathing. I don’t want to overwork you.”

“Very well, madam.”

“Do you need any help, Alice?”

Supermom Alice would have said no, she had it under control. This new Alice said, “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” She bent over to kiss the boys again before she stepped over the gate. She literally ran up the stairs to the second floor, then up a third set of stairs to the attic. She whirled around at the top, and said, “The house looks so beautiful. Thank you, Hank. Perhaps someday I can make it up to you.”

Hank nodded. “What are we looking for, Alice?”

“It’s among the Christmas decorations. It’s a string of silver bells that Mr. Carpenter gave Ben a lifetime ago. You have no idea what that string of bells meant to him. Each time we moved—and there were so many moves—he always made sure that string of bells went with us. He said you and Mandy got one, too. The sound was so true, so pure. I have to find it, Hank. I didn’t leave anything on Albert’s porch. There are so many people out there, so many mementos: the cards, the letters, the keepsakes. It just blew me away.”

“There are several e-mails from Ben waiting for you,” Hank said quietly as he rummaged through neatly labeled boxes.

“Did you read them?” Alice asked.

“Absolutely not!” Hank lied with a straight face. “Now that I know what we’re looking for, I can search. Why don’t you go and check Ben’s e-mails.”

Alice whirled around. The expression on her face was so fierce, Hank stepped back. “You know what, Hank, Ben’s e-mails can wait. This is important.”

Hank didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. He kept rummaging in the ornament boxes, wondering what he’d done with his own set of bells. He vaguely remembered Albert giving them to him, but from there on it was a blur. Maybe he needed to say something light, or something meaningful. “I’m getting married, Alice. Mandy Leigh came back home for the holidays and we…we hooked up again. She helped me decorate the house for you.”

“Hmmm. That’s nice. Ben always said nice things about her.” Alice whirled around and said, “I didn’t mean it when I said I wished Ben had left me standing at the altar. Well, I meant it at the time I said it, but…you know what I’m saying, right?”

“Absolutely. You were just venting, and I understand that. Look, Alice, I could never do what you do every day, day in day out. I tried and couldn’t do it. Ben is a fool for thinking you’re some kind of wonder woman. And, I don’t blame you a bit. That’s why I had to hire Mason. He’s the wonder in wonderful, and the boys really like him. So do the dogs.”

“Hank.”

“Yeah.”

“Shut up. I have to take responsibility for my actions. I’m okay with that, and I appreciate all you did and for…for Mason. Please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but right now I have to find those bells. Oh, God! Here they are. Look! Look! Listen!” Alice shook the bells, and suddenly Hank shivered at the pure melodious sound. The silver bells themselves were tarnished, the red ribbon holding them together was tattered and faded.

“Do you mind telling me what it is with the bells, Alice?” he asked gently.

Alice sat down on an old trunk. “Three or four months ago Albert talked me out of filing for a divorce. I was packed and ready to leave. I had taken him for his chemo treatment that day, and he was so sick, Hank. I mean really sick, but he sat me down and read me the riot act. He told me stories about his own up-and-down marriage. He said you have to work at it to make it worthwhile. He told me other stories about you guys when you were kids. He told me how Mandy was suddenly gone from your lives. He never judged me, never told me not to leave. Somehow or other he convinced me to stay without saying the words. He kept me sane, Hank.”

“I see.” And he did indeed see what she was talking about.

“I’m going over to that porch at midnight and ringing these bells.”

“I wish I knew where I put mine.”

“They’re over there under the window in the box marked ‘Hank.’ Ben packed up your stuff after your parents…He said it was stuff you didn’t want anymore.”

Hank thought his heart was going to explode right out of his chest. He ran over to the box, popped the lid. He saw all kinds of junk he couldn’t ever remember owning. The string of silver bells was wrapped in bubble wrap and tissue. They were just as tarnished, the ribbon just as tattered as the one Alice was holding in her hand. He shook them gently. Tears blurred his vision at the pure tone.

If Mandy had her set, all would be right with his world now that he understood what Alice was talking about. If she didn’t, two out of three would be okay, too.

Down on the second floor, Mason was carrying the twins into their bedroom. They smelled like warm sunshine as Hank bent down to kiss each one of them. They reached out to Alice, who took them both into their room. She settled them in their beds, covered them, then sat down to read a story they didn’t even hear; they were sound asleep. He watched her as she kept reading till the end of the story. She looked so motherly, so suddenly at peace he suddenly felt the same way.

Later on, downstairs, the bells in her hand, Alice sat down in the kitchen. She looked at the slice of homemade blueberry pie and the glass of milk waiting for her. She looked over at Mason and smiled.

“While you’re eating, Mason and I will set up the gifts under the tree. This way you can enjoy the quiet evening. I’m going next door to see Mandy. If you need me, just call my cell phone.”

Alice nodded. “Thanks, Hank, for everything.”

Hank pointed to the laptop on the little desk. She nodded sweetly. “Just so you know, Hank, I love Ben with all my heart and soul.”

“I know that, Alice. I’ll see you later.”

When Amy opened the door, she was holding a string of bells in her hand. “Oh, Hank, you aren’t going to believe what I found. Look!” She held up a set of silver bells and shook them. Hank laughed and pulled his set of bells out of his pocket.

“Alice came home. She wants us to go over to Albert’s porch and ring the bells at midnight. You up for it?”

“Oh, yes. I never decorated my tree, and I didn’t set out any decorations,” Amy said, pointing to the huge evergreen sitting in her living room in the middle of the floor. “I’m not sure what I was trying to…to find, to recapture. That time in my life is gone. This is a new beginning for me. I think for all of us. That in itself is a miracle as far as I’m concerned.”

“I love you, Mandy Leigh. Always have and always will.”

“And I love you, Hank Anders. I always have and always will.”

When the clock struck midnight, three people stood on the Carpenter front porch. Silver bells rang, the sound clear, pure, and rich. High above, a kindly old gentleman ruffled his wings.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered above the sound of the bells that seemed to be ringing all about him.

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Copyright © 2008 by Kensington Publishing Corp.
“Silver Bells” copyright © 2008 by Fern Michaels

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ISBN: 1-4201-0757-7