Chapter Twelve

 

Jake chuckled at Emma’s jubilant celebration and how she’d launched herself into his arms. Looking down on her, watching the pure joy play across her face, he wanted to immerse himself in her happiness. But, considering how he’d treated her in the past, he figured she would only share this news with him because he happened to be sitting beside her.

In the last few months of their seven-year relationship, even before he’d launched into his no-holds-barred attempt to woo her to grad school in California and marriage, he’d felt her pulling away. But, instead of waiting for her to open up and reveal what was bothering her, he’d launched his doomed Cutter power play.

Now, even in the throes of Emma’s excitement, he could sense the undertow of her resistance to sharing her good fortune. That was on him. This time he would be patient and only take what she was willing to give. It was going to take time to build trust with her. He’d been a self-centered, controlling idiot in his younger days, always believing his way was the best, shooting down ideas, not in line with his. Jake pulled at the collar of his sweater, wishing he could erase that part of his past.

He was a different man now. Emma must see he’d changed.

“I take it Mrs. Rosenblum is making a purchase of some kind?” He kept his tone light, mildly curious.

She hesitated for a few seconds, searching his face. He imagined she was trying to gauge his thoughts and possible response.

“The fastest real estate sale on record. Late last night, I sent Mother’s attorney an email saying I was ready to sell the apartment. This morning he calls with an offer. A great offer. I can scarcely believe it.”

A different kind of pleasure washed over Jake. Emma’s excitement shone in her sparkling blue eyes. If only he could be the man who made her eyes light up exactly like they were now. Why had it taken him such a long time to realize she meant everything to him? After med school, he could have left California and matched for a residency in New York. By now, they could have been married and had children. Running into Emma was his second chance.

He wasn’t going to squander it. “How soon do you need to move?”

“If I am out before December thirty-first,” her eyes shone even brighter, “Mrs. Rosenblum is giving me an extra five thousand dollars.”

“I’d be glad to help you move.” If he wished to be a part of her life, this was an opportunity to do it. “You decide the date you want to go. I’ve got procedures scheduled for this week. With notice, I can move them back a day or two.”

“Thanks, Jake.” Emma sounded pleased, surprised. When her phone rang again, her eyes widened. “Look.” She extended her phone for him to see.

The Christmas foal was standing in his stall with a big red bow encircling his neck. “Griff says mother and baby are fine. He and Remy will be here for dinner tonight,” Emma said. “Not sure if the MacQueens will be.” Emma frowned. “Remy says Lilly’s not feeling in the holiday mood today. Last night she did look pretty uncomfortable. Wouldn’t it be something to have another Christmas baby?”

A baby with Emma. That would be something. Jake could see her carrying their child, with her hand resting on her belly. She was a born nurturer; with her kind and caring nature, she would be an incredible mother.

“I have something for you.” He pulled a bright red package out of his pocket.

“I love presents.” She took the gift out of his hands, then tore through the red striped paper with as much enthusiasm as any five-year-old.

“Yes, I remember.” He kept his gaze glued to her face to see her reaction. Her gift was a wide gold cuff bracelet with her monogram engraved in the middle.

On the back, it read: to EK with love, JC, 12-25-2022. “Oh, Jake, I love it.” The love on the inscription surprised her a bit, but she doubted he meant love forever or love always. “Thank you.” Slipping it on her wrist. “Perfect. I have something for you too.” Plucking the silver package from under the tree, she handed it to him. “It’s not nearly as nice as my bracelet. I thought it was something you could use.”

Jake ripped open the gaily wrapped box from his favorite sporting goods store. “This is great!” Holding up the top-of-the-line fishing vest, he said, “I really do need a new one. My other vest is disgusting. Thank you. Maybe I can turn you into a fly fisherwoman yet.”

“That’s probably not going to happen.” She rocked in her candy cane flannel PJs. “The last time, you almost let the current wash me down river. You do remember, right? Me floating away in those ridiculous waders and you laughing your fool head off?”

“Vividly.” He laughed, remembering having to haul a soaked Emma out of the water and onto the riverbank, sputtering river water out of her mouth. “My favorite fishing story,” he said, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

She tossed a bow at him and laughed as it bounced off his nose. “Go away. I need to get ready.”

Go was the last thing Jake wanted to do. With Emma’s tousled hair, silly PJs, and adorable smile, she was as tempting this morning as she was last night in that sexy black dress.

~ * ~

While Emma was dressing, Jake put in a call to Eric to arrange for a third attempt at a sleigh ride. With a twenty-five percent holiday surcharge tacked on this time, Jake was going to make damn sure she got on the sleigh if he had to carry her. Eric agreed. Immediately, he went downstairs in search of Mrs. Pennebeck. He found her and explained the sleigh would arrive at three o’clock. She promised to have Emma on-site and readily available.

Relieved his sleigh ride was on track with all parties, he wandered into the main parlor where several guests encircled the grand piano singing Christmas carols. He paused to listen, then continued down the hall to the quieter middle parlor. Elderly Mr. Pickering, the same curmudgeon who speared Jake’s foot with his lethal cane at the Christmas Eve party, invited him to play chess, and, with nothing better to do, Jake accepted.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Emma come down the front staircase carrying a large, flat Christmas gift.

“Has anyone seen Mrs. P?” she asked.

Emma looked elegant in narrow black silk pants and a low-cut white blouse with pearls at her throat and his bracelet on her wrist. His pride got a nice bump to know she liked the gift. Drinking in the sight of her, Jake wished he was whisking her away for a long, romantic weekend, but the sleigh ride was a start.

“She’s in her apartment,” he answered.

“Thank you.” She beamed, continuing down the hall.

He couldn’t help but smile at her high ponytail tied with a glittering red ribbon bouncing with each step she took. Two hours until the sleigh would arrive.

Mr. Pickering cleared his throat. “Got your eye on her, do you?”

“Is it obvious?”

The older man chuckled. “To anybody with reasonably good eyesight.” He looked over the top of his glasses. “Are you planning to do something about it?”

“Already in the works.” Jake hoped this septuagenarian wasn’t thinking of giving him dating advice.

“Humph.” The old gentleman grunted as his gnarled fingers moved his queen across the board to take Jake’s rook. “Yet here you sit playing a game in front of a cozy fireplace. Doesn’t look like you’re making much progress if you ask me.”

He wasn’t going to ask his elderly opponent anything. So instead, he pretended to study the antique game board with intricate inlaid wood and mother of pearl designs and ignored Mr. Pickering’s snarky comment.

Over an hour passed since Emma entered Mrs. Pennebeck’s apartment with her Christmas gift. Jake glanced down the hall to see Mrs. Pennebeck and Emma emerge from the apartment arm in arm, their heads together in conversation. He kept one eye on the clock and the other on Mr. Pickering. Ten minutes before the sleigh was due, Jake admitted defeat, excused himself, then gathered his coat and Emma’s long red one from the closet.

Mrs. Pennebeck met him in the hall. “Emma is in the kitchen.” She gave him a conspiratorial wink.

Jake decided the fragrant kitchen was his favorite room in the house. Even though he was on a mission, he couldn’t help noticing the smells of Christmas dinner in progress.

When he entered, Emma was perched on a bar stool at the island, nibbling on a shimmering angel cookie and bent over one of Mrs. Pennebeck’s sudoku puzzles.

“I have a surprise for you.” He took the Christmas tree pencil from Emma’s hand and helped her to her feet. “Something to make your Christmas one hundred percent perfect.”

“A sleigh ride.” She squealed, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down like a teenage cheerleader. “You’re taking me on a sleigh ride?”

“Yes, I am.” Finally. He helped her into her red coat, then looked at her flimsy shoes. “No problem.” Nope. Nothing was going to spoil her ride.

He swept her into his arms and carried her down the hall, past the main parlor—giving Mr. Pickering a smug nod—past the carolers in the front parlor singing a robust rendition of the “Hallelujah Chorus”—and out the front door to the waiting sleigh. He deposited Emma on the seat and climbed in beside her. Then, tucking the thick lap blanket over her legs and feet, he put his arm around her, content they were both, finally, in the sleigh, together.

“At last.” She giggled, and the driver joined in—in a more masculine, deeper tone, of course.

She reached inside her coat, taking out a silver flask. “Some fine Irish whiskey to keep us warm. Compliments of Mrs. Pennebeck.”

“I take it she told you about my previous failures.” Then he noticed big, fluffy snowflakes drifting to the ground. No matter. Tonight would be perfect.

“Yes. I am beyond impressed you would do this for me…three times.” She beamed at him, her blue eyes glowing with happiness.

When Emma snuggled up against him, something amazing swelled up inside him. It was hope, untarnished and boundless for their future together. Finally, he’d found the last piece of his life’s puzzle.

Jake looked down at his sweet Emma, blissfully unaware of the directions of his thoughts. If she knew, she would run like a frightened deer. Be cool, Cutter. He turned up the collar of his overcoat against the afternoon chill and the wind gusts.

“Did Mrs. Pennebeck like her Christmas present?” In spite of the emotions churning inside him, Jake forced himself to take a breath and keep the conversation light.

“She did. It was a painting my mother had done of the inn’s courtyard garden and fountain. I wish she could have seen Mrs. Pennebeck’s face when she opened it.” Emma blotted a few stray tears with her mitten. “We both cried a little, but they were happy tears. Then we had a nice, long talk.” Smiling up at him, she bumped against his shoulder a few times. “Jake, this is perfect,” she sighed, relaxing her head against the leather of the seat back. “This is truly one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

In the recesses of his gut, Jake realized all of his efforts were worth it. He’d put the glowing smile on her gorgeous face. He was going to make sure it stayed there. The clip-clop cadence of the horse’s hooves and the gently falling snow lulled him into blissful euphoria. Best Christmas he could remember.