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“LET IT SNOW, LET IT snow, let it snow!”
“Uh, Tate, you do know it isn’t snowing, right?”
“Ah, Chad”—Tatem patted her friend on the arm—“the brain trust of the Pancake Club. Whatever would we do without you?”
“Possibly make imaginary snowmen...”
“Easy, Chad, you know she hates that.” Claire laughed but then turned to Tatem with a serious face. “But I agree with you. It’s ʽsnowperson.ʼ”
Sami chimed in with the self-proclaimed Pancake Club members chanted, “Policeperson, fireperson, postal delivery person, handyperson.”
The pancake club had came to be when the four gathered together on a regular basis and was an important part of Tatem’s life. She was glad she met the wonderful group of people and looked forward to it everyday and if she couldn’t meet with them for some reason, her entire day felt as though something was amiss. Most of the group had known each other since childhood.
“Thank you, my friends. Now did you place my order?”
Claire nodded to Sami, the waitress who, on cue, popped over with a hot chocolate with whipped cream piled high atop the mug. “We did. Gingerbread pancakes with Boysenberry Syrup.”
“Your food will be right out,” Sami said hurrying to the next table to top off their coffees, her blonde ponytail swinging as she hummed Christmas songs.
Tatem smiled. “I love Christmas. Not that I have any Christmas plans to speak of.”
“Did you hear that guys? Tate loves Christmas,” Claire said in a mock matter-of-fact tone.
“Never would have guessed that one,” Chad said, grinning through the steam rising out of his coffee mug.
The door opened, ringing the bell that hung over it, and everyone turned to stare at the man who walked into the café. Tatem knew it was impolite to stare and hated when she walked into a room and everyone watched her, but she couldn’t help herself. From where she sat, she had a clear view of his deep gray eyes the color of the ocean on a cloudy, windy morning when it seemed angry, and his hair, short and black with a dusting of gray about the temples. He was tall and his raincoat hung well off his broad shoulders. He glanced over at the gang, his eyes catching her gaze for just a moment and her stomach flipped. She dropped her head, pretending to busy herself with her hot chocolate—as if there was anything to do with it other than drink .
Unable to stop herself, she looked up at him again, finding his eyes still on her. Her trembling hand bumped her mug, splashing the hot mocha liquid on the white tablecloth and her hand. She reacted to the pain with a gasp and felt her face flush. The stranger had seen the entire bumbling incident. So much for first impressions, she thought.
“Are you all right?” Sami asked, rushing over.
Tatem didn’t reply, focused on the stranger whose expression changed to concern. She waved her hand to show that it was fine and thankfully, he turned back to the counter. She opened one of the hand wipe packets sitting in a small, wicker basket and cleaned the sugary chocolate from her hand before it became sticky. The instant dart of pain subsided almost immediately. All her feelings and emotions focused on the stranger, which made her wonder how someone sheʼd never met could have such a powerful affect on her. But, if his mere presence could ease pain he might be handy to have around.
“Tate?” Sami asked.
“Oh. Sami. Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” Tatem did her best to avoid eye contact with her - Pancake Club friends. She sipped her hot chocolate, glad when their attention moved on to another subject.
She watched as Sami rushed over to the stranger. After talking to him for a few seconds she pointed at Tatem, then motioned for her to join them at the counter.
Tatem looked around, then with her hand on her chest, mouthed, “Me?” In spite of the hot chocolate, her mouth went dry and she took a quick sip of water from the small glass in front of her. “Excuse me.” It seemed as though everyone was watching her— the stranger, Sami and her blessed friends who were childishly ribbing her, at least quietly, thankfully.
“Sami, did you need something?” Tatem asked when she joined them.
“Stewart was just asking about a handyman,” Sami drew the word out, picking on her friend. She knew Tatem hated it.
Raising an eyebrow as the man turned to her, “She says you might know a guy. A Tate Someone-or-other?” he asked.
“I might,” Tatem said, nodding while giving Sami a look. No way was she going to tell him she was the Tate Somebody . “And your name again is...”
“Yes. Excuse my manners. Heath Stewart Brighton. I’m here from London visiting my Uncle Stew.”
Tatem decided to let the man’s assumption that a handyperson would automatically be a man, go by and said, “You’re Stew’s nephew? He’s a great man. We all just love him around here.”
“So I’ve been told—time and time again.” Tatem watched Mr. Brighton’s face soften and a sparkle lighten the deep gray of his eyes and couldn’t help but smile back. He checked his watch and said, “I must be off. Is there any way you could send Tate the handyman around sometime tomorrow? I know it’s close to Christmas but there are some matters at my uncle’s home that need immediate attention.”
“No problem. I can assure you Tate will be there first thing.”
“Thank you.”
He left and Sami and Tatem fell into laughter over his impending surprise when Tatem herself showed up at his uncle’s house in her truck. And it wasn’t just any truck, it was complete with most of the necessary tools to take care of whatever jobs might need doing including a huge tool chest and ladders attached to rails jutting up on each side of the bed.
“You’ve got to admit he’s handsome, Tate. Are you sure you want to toy with him that way?”
Tatem took a second hot chocolate and started back to her friends, saying, “Uh-huh,” over her right shoulder.
“So, Tate has a new mission?” Chad asked.
“She does. By this time tomorrow, Stewart will be put firmly in his place,” Claire answered for her, laughing.
“Well, speaking of work, I have a lot to do today. I have several weekenders’ homes to decorate. If the snow holds back long enough for me to get the lights strung up, that is.” Tatem was in an especially good mood. She could chalk it up to Christmas, which always put her in a wonderful mood, but she had a feeling that meeting Heath Stewart Brighton and the opportunity of seeing him the next day might have at least a little to do with it.
She left the Memories Diner stuffed from the pancakes and hot chocolate, ready to hang lights. She had been hired to do several jobs on some of the area’s larger homes but volunteered to do a few of the local shut-ins’ home at no charge. The only thing she asked of them was that they not tell anyone. She thought it important to do good deeds just because and not for pats on the back.
By late afternoon, Tatem and her assistant and soon-to-be business partner, Gus, were on the last paying job. When they had taken their lunch breaks she had rushed and done two of the just-because houses which left only one more.
As she came down the ladder stretching her back, Gus shook his head. “You know, if you’d let me help with your just-because projects, your back might not hurt so much.”
Tatem’s mouth dropped. “You know?”
Gus laughed. “Everyone in Mercy Ridge knows.” He held up his hands. “Not that I said a word, mind you.” He smiled. “Face it, Tate, you’re a good person—even if you can’t keep it on the down low as you’d like.”
“Well, I don’t want to talk about it,” Tatem said with a smile. “What I do want to talk about is this.” She removed her right work glove and fished through the pocket of her overalls, pulling out the letter still in its envelope.
“You got it.” Gus took it from Tatem, shaking his head. “And you haven’t opened it?”
“Nope. Couldn’t do it. I want you to. Besides, you need to know if I’m worthy of being your business partner or not.”
“All right. Seems to me this is your business though,” Gus said, removing his cap and running his hands through his salt and pepper short hair. Gus was a slim, tall African-American man who moved to Mercy Ridge two years earlier. He was a mystery to most and that kept the town guessing about his past, but not Tatem. She had such faith in Gus that she was sure he would tell what anyone needed to know when they needed to know it. He was a good man—of that she felt sure.
Gus took his readers out of his pocket and slipped them on , allowing them to fall to the end of his nose . “Well, I’ll be,” he said, his face revealing nothing.
“Gus, no wonder you always win at poker. Just tell me. I can take it.” Tatem’s back stiffened and her brain raced. If sheʼd failed, she could take it again. She would eventually pass.
“One thing’s for sure,” Gus said.
“You’re killing me,” Tatem said, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Not only did you pass , you aced it, kiddo.”
Tatem opened one eye, peering at Gus to see if might be toying with her even though that wasn’t like him—not when it came to something important. She finally opened the other eye, wide with excitement. She was beginning to allow herself to believe her friend and, if he was telling her the truth, her partner in a contracting business specializing in building homes in little coastal towns that blended in with the surroundings—enhancing their landscapes rather than disturbing them.
“Seriously? I passed? I’m a contractor?”
“You are. Now we can get our business up and running right after Christmas. Which isn’t far away so we had better get these lights up. Can’t be sure what Stew’s nephew has in store for us tomorrow.”
With that, they were back to it, working hard to get done before dark. Tatem imagined Stew’s nephew’s face when he saw that she was the handyperson. That made her smile.
Tatem awoke early the next morning, and took extra care to get ready. She told herself it was all part of the shock factor for Stew’s nephew, but deep inside her, she knew it was more. The man’s eyes on her the day before still haunted her—even in her dreams. She couldn’t understand how she could dream about a man with whom she had only had such a brief encounter.
She drove over to Gus’s house and picked him up. He lived in a white two-story facing the cliffs of rocks and tall evergreens. The house had belonged to his parents and when he had taken an early retirement from his engineering job to care for them, he just stayed on. Now he was about to embark on a new, and Tatem hoped successful, Chapter in his life. At fifty-five he was certainly young enough to do so.
She had coffee and an egg sandwich waiting for him—pancakes didn’t travel so well. “Thanks,” Gus said, picking up the white bag with his sandwich. He dropped it on his lap and took the large coffee from the cup holder on his side of the truck. “Four sugars?”
“Four.” Tatem shook her head. “If you ever get diabetes that sweet tooth of yours is going to be your demise.”
Gus laughed, slapping the side of his leg. “Yeah, but won’t it be a sweet way to go!”
They laughed and talked, mostly about their upcoming business, as they made their way up the winding, narrow drive to Stew Brighton’s home, Whispering Pines. His white, four-story house was without contention, the largest in Mercy Ridge. Word was, he had even brought part of it piece by piece from England. Tatem liked the idea of that even if he had built it just short of ten years prior to her birth so she didn’t know if it was true or not. While Stew was a friendly enough man who got along with everyone, he valued his privacy and didn’t do a lot of socializing—even with local widow women who had set their sights on him over the years.
Tatem stopped the truck half way around the circular drive in front of Whispering Pines, careful to not block the drive. She and Gus had no more than climbed out of the truck when the gray eyes that seemed burned in her memory were once again gazing upon her. This morning he wore jeans and a gray sweater over a blue, button-down shirt and boots. Sensible, Tatem thought. It’s supposed to snow today. Then she inwardly laughed at herself. The truth was, he looked good in his tight jeans and cut waist leading up to his broad shoulders. Tatem looked to the side of the house and saw the mist hanging low in the tree line. Looking back at him, she thought how his eyes matched a stormy sea.
“Hello, Mr. Brighton.”
“Please. Most people call me Stewart. Or you may call me Heath if you like.”
“I do. I will. Heath.” Tatem stared at him and almost forgot Gus and why they were there.
“So, I’m Gus.” Gus was rubbing his bare hands together to warm them from the cold.
Heath looked confused. “I thought you were going to bring a guy named Tate.”
Gus laughed a hearty laugh. “Yeah, she’ll get you for that one. You didn’t automatically assume you would be hiring a man, did you?”
Still somewhat perplexed, Heath said, “I did.”
The caution in his voice made Tatem smile. She loved the moment when she could, at the very least, surprise her clients by being a woman—and even more so when they saw her completed work, which was always done to perfection, if she herself did say so.
Gus, still laughing, gestured toward Tatem. “This is Tate. Her name’s Tatem, but all of of us here in Mercy Ridge just call her Tate.”
Tatem bit her lip, and held her breath. For a moment she worried Heath might be upset and send them away. She relaxed when his lips turn upward into a smile.
“Well, that’s what I get for assuming, don’t I? Forgive me if I seemed the least bit biased.”
“It’s fine.” Tatem smiled, mesmerized. When Heath laughed, his dark gray eyes sparkled.
“Actually she loves it when people make that assumption. But don’t be fooled. She’s the best at what she does. In fact, we’re about to go into business together.”
Tate watched Heath quietly as Gus told him about their contracting business. He seemed genuinely interested. When Gus was through with his promotional pitch, Tatem asked, “What is it you need us to do?”
“Why don’t the two of you have a cup of coffee with us while we go over the tasks at hand? I know Uncle Stew would like the company.”
They followed Heath through the house, it’s walls white with heavy, dark antiques everywhere, to the terrace where Stew was sitting in an outdoor chair with a deep, orange cushion around a matching metal table with a glass top. A green plaid throw covered him up to his chest. “Uncle Stew, I suppose you aren’t a bit surprised to know that this is Tate.”
Uncle Stew laughed until he coughed. They all waited patiently for the coughing fit to pass. He took a sip of hot coffee, which seemed to help it subside. “Please forgive me for that,” Stew said.
“That’s quite all right,” Tatem said, taking Stew’s thin hand in her own supple one. He seemed much more frail than when she last saw him. “How are you?”
“Much better now that my smart nephew has been had.”
Heath waved his hand for them to sit around the table, saying, “I have a feeling I’ll be hearing about this for some time to come.”
“Stew, Tate here is the best in the business. So is Gus. Between the two of them, there’s nothing they can’t fix or build.”
“Well, I deserve to feel foolish,” Heath said, smiling as he poured them coffee. Tate drank hers with cream and no sugar while Gus of course, added quite a bit of cream and a lot of sugar to his.
The hot coffee felt soothing against the cold, December air. She glanced up and saw Heath watching her. As he talked, she began picturing his mouth on hers. Floating away to fantasy world, Tatem no longer felt the cold. How could she with the image of Heath’s taut body holding her close against him, warm and desirable and consuming?
“Tate?”
She looked at Gus. “Sorry?”
“Must be Christmas. She gets like this every year about this time,” Gus explained to the two men with them.
But judging from the expression on Uncle Stew’s face, he wasn’t buying it. When Tatem looked over her cup at him, he gave her a nod with a twinkle in his eye. She had no idea how he knew what sheʼd been thinking, but he seemed to be on to her. She could only hope Heath wasn’t as astute. After forcing herself to drink the last of her coffee, she cleared her throat. “So what is it you would have us do for you?”
Stew smiled at his nephew. “I’m leaving that up to him. I know he’s pointed out quite a lot that needs doing. And for once I think I’d like a bit of happy Christmas cheer around here. I’m feeling festive with family here.”
“Uncle Stew, I told you we, I, won’t be here for Christmas.”
“Nonsense. Just do as I ask and go into Mercy Ridge and get lights—lots of lights.” A nurse came from inside the house and helped Stew into a wheelchair, covering him carefully before taking him inside. “And you’ll need to cut a tree. As huge as you can find!” he shouted as the door closed.
Gus and Tatem exchanged looks. Tatem knew they would discuss Stew’s condition later when they were alone. It bothered her that such a vibrant man should need a wheelchair. And as for Christmas, he had never cared for the holiday as far as she knew.
Heath led them around the house, going over every problem he wanted addressed—and in a hurry, too. Tatem couldn’t help but be suspicious. Why now? Why was he suddenly here and seeing to it that house repairs were made immediately? He walked them to the truck where they began pulling out tool belts and ladders.
“I’ve been told you’re the best so I’ll leave you to it then. And you may leave the lights and the tree last on your list. But if you feel at any point that you need extra help with the work, I’ll gladly pay for the extra hands to get the work done quicker.”
He walked away.
Gus asked, “What do you suppose is the big hurry?”
“I don’t know.” Tatem bit her lower lip. “But I’m going to find out.”
She pondered Gus’s questions all morning as they worked. By midday, they were in need of supplies, and Gus agreed to go after them, leaving Tatem on her own to explore. She walked near the edge of the cliff overlooking the winding, aqua colored river below a gray sky.
“It looks like snow, Uncle Stew says.”
Tatem turned to find Heath standing behind her with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“He’s likely to be right. It even smells like snow.” She turned to look back at the river. If she didn’t, she knew she was likely to stare at the man.
“Smells like snow?” Heath stood beside her.
“It does. Or did, rather. I could smell it this morning. I love snow.” Tatem turned to Heath, tucking her chestnut hair behind her cold ears. It was so cold, a cap was in order but vanity had kept her hair free-flowing. But the need for warmth won out and she decided that as soon as Gus made it back with the truck, she would add a cap and another layer of clothing. Now that she wasn’t working fast and furious, the cold had found its way into her bones and she was near shivering.
“You’re cold. Here, have my jacket.” Heath took off his overcoat and draped it over Tatem’s shoulders.
“Thank you.” She smiled. She could smell him on the coat and feel the warmth from his body. It was a heady sensation.
“Would you like to take a walk with me? Just for a while until Gus returns?”
Tatem tilted her head to the side as she watched Heath. “All right.” Any other time, she would have stuck to the business at hand, but she couldn’t help herself.
Heath waved his hand toward the lower part of the cliffs to the right of them and Tatem led the way.
From the lowest point atop the cliffs it wasn’t far down to the huge, flat rocks lining the water. She started down the curving stone steps. “Careful,” Heath urged.
Tatem laughed. “I grew up scampering up and down the rocky cliffs of this area. I’m a little like a mountain goat.” Heath hurried to keep up with her which made Tatem smile. If he hadn’t learned his lesson about women doing everything men could do before, he was surely learning it now. As she reached the bottom step however, ice had formed on it from the river’s spray and as soon as her foot hit the ice, it slipped out from under her. Heath caught her around the waist and they both spun around until they were standing on the on the flat rocks next to the step, Tatem’s eyes wide. Still in Heath’s arms, she said breathlessly, “Thank you.” Held close against him she could think of nothing else—nothing but the feel of soft, cashmere sweater over the sinewy muscles of his body, the scent of his subtle cologne—and his parted lips so close to hers...She tilted her head back ever so slightly and those lips brushed softly across hers. Cold at first touch, the midday air brisk but when they met again, a warmth, an almost chemical reaction had occurred and their mouths found one another’s as if they had been searching for a lifetime.
They pulled apart, and Tatem knew their gazes were as intense as their kiss. Only a second later, they were once again kissing, their mouths hungry for the taste of the each other’s. Tatem didn’t notice when her arms slipped around Heath’s neck or when his slid under her layers of clothing until a gentle hand urged her body against his.
From somewhere off in the distance, she heard Gus calling her name. Hearing him brought her back to reality, tearing her from a most beautiful dream.
“I think Gus is back,” Heath whispered, his breathing shallow and labored.
They stared into one another’s eyes while she clung to the passionate state they were in. Tatem never wanted to let go. Then Gus’s voice grew closer and she pulled away. There was nothing else she could do. What was she doing anyway? she asked herself as she turned away from Heath, facing the river. She used her fingertips to smooth her lipstick, knowing Gus would take one look at her and know something was amiss. Nothing ever escaped his curious eyes.
Tatem closed her eyes when she felt Heath’s hand on her right shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She took a deep breath and turned to face him—she had to sooner or later. “I’m okay. I’m sorry...”
“No. Please be anything but that.” She watched his shoulders slump. “But if you really do regret...”
“No,” Tatem whispered. “I don’t. I just don’t usually throw myself into the arms of strangers.”
“Well some might argue we aren’t strangers at all,” Heath said, heading back up the steps, pulling her close to him .
“How is that?”
“Maybe we’re the soul mates of which you so often hear the young and naïve speak.”
“I don’t know about that. And besides, you just described those beliefs as young and naïve.” The thought of meeting her soul mate or even the existence thereof was a subject Tatem had given little thought to in her thirty-two years on earth. She happily considered herself a pragmatist.
Heath pulled her close to him as he helped her up the stone stairs winding up the side of the lowest cliff. He pulled her close and whispered, “Perhaps the naïve and the young are the only ones who see things as they can be and not merely as they are. The way they get once we are old and jaded.”
“Are you old and jaded?” Tatem asked smiling mischievously.
“Not sure about jaded part, but getting on up there,” Heath said with an exaggerated sigh.
“And how old are you?” she whispered back as they reached the top of the cliff to a waiting Gus and Stew.
“Thirty-nine. And aging gracefully, I’ll thank you.” They stood up straight and Heath took Tatem by the elbow. “Sorry fellows, totally my fault. I talked her into a walk. Of course we never suspected the rocks would be icy.”
“Uh-huh,” Gus said, giving Stew a disbelieving look.
“And of course, I’ll turn her over to you Gus, so the two of you may get back to work, but first we were sharing our ages.” Heath’s eyes, so filled with passion just moments earlier, were now glowing with mischievousness.
“Well I can take care of that right quick. She’s thirty-two.”
“Gus!” Tatem feigned indignation.
“Well she’s obviously a young beauty, so that’s that,” Stew said.
“On that we’ll agree, Uncle,” Heath said.
Tatem felt her face flush even more than it already was and Gus laughed.
“Don’t often see Tate get flustered. I like that.” He walked to the back of the truck, and then pulled out the miter saw and the new wood he had just purchased to replace the more broken window boxes under every window.
Trying to give equal looks to both Stew and Heath, Tatem said, “I’d better get busy helping him. We have a lot of work to get done.”
“I need to make some phone calls, but I’ll be around later,” Heath told her.
Without thinking, she touched her lips, still able to feel his mouth on hers. “All...all right. I’ll...we’ll see you later.” She turned and hurried toward the truck feeling like a stammering buffoon. He definitely had an effect on her—she just wasn’t sure she liked it or not. It was frightening that someone could so easily stir emotions in a person—especially if that person happened to be her.
“What’s wrong with you?” Gus asked, scrutinizing her. When she shrugged and stammered nothing he laughed out loud, his Gus laugh.
They spent the rest of the day rebuilding and painting window boxes in a shade of dark gray that matched the rest of the trim on the house. There were fewer on the fourth floor— likely the attic—which was a good thing with the winds picking up as the storm neared. Even with the ladder anchored, it still swayed. Truth be told, though, Tatem liked the feeling—like a child’s carnival ride. Gus wasn’t as fond of it as was she, always glad to do the work lower to the ground.
It was nearing four o’clock when the snow began, blowing in sideways at the mercy of the strong winter winds. “I think we’d better pack it up till morning!” Gus shouted up to Tatem still high on the ladder.
She nodded and started down just as Heath joined Gus below. Her heart raced the closer she came to the bottom—and to Heath. Gus would see right through her. How could he not? She had never been so overcome by such intense emotions—and they came without warning or without wanting. Tatem was happy with her life just as it was.
As she reached the bottom rung of the ladder, it shifted a little and in a flash Heath had a steady hold on her, helping her safely to the ground. Tatem dared give a glance at Gus whose face was contorted into one of his mocking, knowing looks. It was odd, though, because she wasn’t normally the target of his expressive thoughts. Usually, it was the two of them sharing looks together about someone else .
“We can get the rest of the work done in...likely two days, including the lights and the tree,” Gus said to Heath.
Tatem nodded, and then frowned. “Heath, you said something about not being here for Christmas?”
“It was just a thought,” he responded, a warm smile on his face.
“Well, I don’t know about the two of you but I’m going to get ready for the town’s tree lighting tonight. Heath, are you and your uncle going?”
Heath—or Stewart as Gus called him—shrugged. “This is the first Iʼve heard of it, actually. But, if my Uncle Stew is up for it, weʼll be there. “And you’ll be there for sure?”
“I am. Wouldn’t miss it. Gus and I did the lighting and decorating.”
“Oh. Well that’s something to look forward to,” Heath said.
“We hope so,” Tatem said with a side-glance to Gus who nodded in agreement.
Tatem showered and went through her small closet, tossing one thing after the other onto the bed until almost every piece of clothing she owned was splayed out before her. She had to dress warmly, that was a given, so that ruled out some of the cuter looks. She sat on the bed and sighed. She had never cared as much before about how she looked. She couldn’t ignore her desire to impress Heath.
After she›d settled on dark-wash denims and a white turtleneck she bought on one of her few shopping trips in New York, for her simple look she added white boots and a white puffy jacket that actually looked fitted rather than like the Stay Puff guy. Her only jewelry was a rose gold oversized watch, a pair of dove earrings and a simple gold chain just long enough to go around the neck of her turtleneck. She decided to wear her chestnut brown hair down. It was so thick that there wasn’t a lot she could do with it except let it fall onto her shoulders where it flipped up at the ends.
Tatemʼs small, white rental house was so close to the center of town, she walked, enjoying the falling snow. The storm dropped about five inches on them, but slowed and wasn’t likely to be as bad as first predicted.
Other than the dark Christmas tree in the center square, the town was cheerfully lit up for Christmas. She planned to meet her best friend Nora next to the tree. They would likely walk around and talk to everyone—and order snacks both would complain that they didn’t need. They would no doubt find Gus sitting on one of the many benches around the square swapping stories of the glory days with his friends and fretting over the lighting job Tatem and he had done. Tatem laughed at the thought of Gus’s reaction if the tree didn’t light up on cue.
She stood in the shadows, about to step into the light when she heard, “You seem rather happy.” Heath reached out and caught Tatem right before she walked into him.
“I’m sorry, Heath. In my own little world, I suppose.”
“Anything you want to share?”
Tatem laughed and told Heath about Gus and the lights on the town’s Christmas tree.
He laughed too, but then his brow furrowed.
“What’s wrong?” Tatem asked.
“I hope I wasn’t too forward today...on our walk. It was just that you were so beautiful and rather enticing in your work belt and I’m so attracted to you that...”
As much as Tatem enjoyed hearing Heath reveal his feelings for her, she needed to put him out of his misery. “Heath. Heath!” She practically had to shout for him to hear her. “It’s all right. After all, I kissed you back.”
A silence fell over both of them and they stared at one another. It was almost as though Tatem could read his thoughts.
“You did kiss me back. And...” his voice trailed away as he looked off into the distance.
“And?” Tatem asked. She had to know what he was going to say.
Heath stepped forward until their faces were inches apart, then whispered, “And it was rather wonderful.”
“It was?” Tatem asked, her breathing shallow. As his lips neared hers, she whispered, “It was wonderful.”
His lips finally touched hers, ever so gently and emotions sprang to life filling every part of her being. She pulled away from him, her lips still parted, staring into his eyes. She could see his emotions in the gray pools, deep and intense. Those emotions were almost too overwhelming, but without giving it another thought, she clutched his arms and pulled him to her. Feverishly kissing him, a small sigh escaped her lips. A group of people strolled by and they pulled apart. As the people passed, Heath took Tatem’s hand and pulled her into the darkness beside a building on the corner of the square.
In the darkness they entangled their arms around one another as their mouths hungrily found each other’s. Heath held her body close to his, trailing kisses from her mouth down the nape of her neck. She dropped her head back, the world swirling around her. Had it not been for his hold on her, she would have fallen to the ground.
She could feel his warm breath against her ear as he whispered, “Tatem. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”
He released her and cupped her face in his hands. “Do I really?” she asked.
“You do. I can’t believe it. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Neither was I,” Tatem said, running a finger across Heath’s cheek.
“I didn’t even believe this could happen. And not this fast, for sure.”
“I know. I...”
“Okay, kids, break it up!”
A glaring beam of light broke through the darkness in an instant just as the voice called out. Tatem and Heath pulled apart as if they were indeed guilty youngsters. “It’s okay, Mike, it’s me, Tatem.”
“Tate?” Dolan laughed and Tatem wanted to sink under the snow. Dolan was a good cop, but he had a big mouth and it wouldn’t be long before everyone in town knew that she was caught kissing Heath there in the darkness like a couple of insatiable teenagers. Too ashamed to look up, she turned away shaking her head. When she heard Dolan telling people to move along, she almost broke into a run but in the darkness Heath’s hand found hers, steadying her as he sent Dolan on his way.
“Are you going to be all right?” he asked softly.
Tatem laughed half-heartedly before turning to him. “I will be, I suppose. You know we are going to be the talk of the town.”
“I’m sorry if that causes you embarrassment, but to be honest there’s no one I would rather be rumored with.”
Tatem smiled. “Thank you. Now we had better get out of here. I’m sure my friend is tired of waiting for me...if she hasn’t given up already.”
“And I need to find Uncle Stew. He’s somewhere around here.”
Sure it was obvious to anyone who looked at her that she had been kissing, Tatem did her best to smooth out her lipstick without making a big deal of it. Fortunately, it was long-wearing and stayed in place through a lot—perhaps not passionately kissing beside a building, however.
“Tate! I’ve been waiting forever!” Nora stumbled through the snow toward them—in red flats no less. She was always far more concerned with her look than wearing attire suitable for the weather. Once she ended up in the hospital for frostbite, nearly losing two toes, but she didn’t learn her lesson. In her defense, however, the shoes were fabulous.
“I’m sorry, Nora. I was distracted,” Tatem said weakly. She told herself to not look at Heath, but couldn’t help glancing at him. That was all it took for Nora to catch on.
“I see.” Nora shared her knowing look equally with Tatem and with Heath. She wasn’t the shy type. And she liked to know everything happening in Mercy Ridge. She was a one-woman gossip chain. “Heath, if you don’t mind, would you leave us alone for a bit? I promise not to keep her from you long. Just for the tiniest minute.” Nora held her forefinger and thumb ever-so-slightly apart.
“Nora, it’s very nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you shortly, I assume?” Heath asked her. He leaned over and whispered in Tatem’s ear, “I’m going to find Uncle Stew. If you get the chance we’ll be sitting close by.”
“All right,” Tatem whispered under her breath. After watching the man, she was developing stronger and stronger feelings for, it was hard to leave him even for a little while. “Don’t go far,” she whispered.
Heath dusted snowflakes from Tatem’s face and leaned in, whispering in her ear, “I’ll won’t. I can’t imagine ever wanting to be far from you.”
Tatem watched Heath leave and then found herself being dragged along by the arm by Nora to a somewhat quiet area where she no doubt intended to grill Tatem about the new man in her life.
They found a bench near the back of the crowd and Nora practically pulled Tatem down on to it by her arm. “Okay, so he’s Stew’s British nephew, right? Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing him? He’s cute. Have you kissed him? Ah, you have!” Nora stopped grilling Tatem long enough to clasp her hands over her mouth. When she moved them she picked up right where she left off. “Tell me everything. When did this begin?”
Tatem knew sheʼd regret telling Nora, but if she didn’t, her friend wouldn’t let up and would stay on her case until she finally broke down. “Other than seeing him with The Pancake Club at breakfast, I really just met him this morning. Gus and I are doing work for his uncle and for him.”
“Okaaay...” Nora drew the word out. “But what I want to know, is when the kissing part began? When did you put down your power tools and use your tools?”
“Nora!” Tatem pulled her friend close to her. “Stop being so loud and I’ll tell you.” Nora gave an emphatic nod, listening with enthusiasm as Tatem told her about their first kiss. As she told her friend she relived the moment, getting lost in it. It was strange that it had only happened that morning. It felt as as though sheʼd known Heath forever. She knew Nora wouldnʼt let up until she knew everything, so Tatem told
her about the humiliation of getting caught by Nolan when they were kissing in the dark.
“That’s crazy!” Nora whispered loudly and with excitement. Someday, Tatem was going to give her friend whispering lessons. “Let’s go get hot chocolates.”
“All right,” Tatem said, relieved Nora decided to pause from grilling her.
When they reached the hot chocolate stand, Heath arrived at the same time. Tatem gave Nora a warning look to keep quiet. He smiled at Tatem and she smiled back, the world fading into a backdrop. How can this be happening? she asked herself. I just met him and it’s like he’s connected to my soul. It was her turn to order and Nora gave her a nudge leaving her no choice but to return to reality.
She was about to order when Heath said, “Hot chocolates on me.” He looked at them and allowed them to order their hot beverages the way they wanted, then ordered four more.
After he paid, Tatem said, “Would you like us to help you carry those? The drink caddys they give you aren’t very sturdy.”
“That would be great.” When he talked it was as if saw only her. Dare she hope he shared her feelings?
They walked carefully, making small talk, politely including Nora. Tatem hated when someone met someone of the opposite sex and instantly shut his or her friends out. That was wrong. As it turned out, the hot chocolates were for Heath, Stew, Gus and their friend McPeevey. McPeevey owned the lumber supply store from which Gus and Tatem bought most of their wood.
It was nearing the tree-lighting time. The children gathered around it, their eyes bright, and they chattered with excitement. The mayor and his wife were on the platform ready to call up one lucky child to flip the switch. Tatem remembered as a young girl she always wanted to get picked. She never did, but nothing could lessen the excitement of watching the dark tree become instantly bright and oh so beautiful. Each year, she felt sure the tree was the prettiest sheʼd ever seen. Sheʼd lived with her parents and two brothers and in a small house so they always had to get a small tree, which was beautiful, but nothing like the towering town tree.
“What are you thinking?” Heath asked against her ear.
Tatem turned to look at him and found herself telling him her thoughts, something she did with only a few people sheʼd known for a long time. But, again, Heath hardly seemed like a stranger, and not just because they had gotten caught making out behind the building; there was something powerful and amazing happening between them.
“Where are your family members now?”
“My brother and his wife live near here, but my other brother is studying biophysics at MIT.”
“Wow, MIT. That’s a big deal.”
“It is. We are all so very proud of him. Especially my mom. She lives in North Carolina with her sister. My dad died two years ago.”
Heath must have seen the hurt on Tatem’s face. He ran his gloved hand over her hair. “I’m sorry you lost your dad. I lost my mother when I was ten-years-old.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” They stood in silence for awhile - “What about the rest of your family?” Tatem asked.
Heath shrugged. “There’s my dad and my step-mother. And I have two step- sisters. Then there’s Uncle Stew. Other than a few cousins I seldom see, that’s it. I live for the most part in a flat in London and go to the country estate to see my family occasionally.”
“What about Christmas?” Tatem asked. She worried Heath had a lonely life when it came to his family.
“Christmas hasn’t been that big of a deal since my mother died. It was her holiday and my dad sort of lost heart for it after that.” Heath sipped his hot chocolate. “My step-mother goes through the motions for her spoiled daughters, but it’s nothing like this.” Heath looked around him, his eyes settling on the still dark Christmas tree. “This is wonderful.”
It took her a few seconds to build up the courage, but she managed it. “Heath, you said something to your Uncle Stew about you not being here at Christmas.”
“That’s right. I’m due back home day after tomorrow.”
“That’s Christmas Eve,” Tatem said, dropping her head, unable to hide her disappointment. Sheʼd met someone who stirred emotions in her like no other and he was leaving in less than two days. She looked up at Heath, her eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “But you said something about your uncle not being here either.”
“Oh, that. I suppose I was hoping to take my uncle home with me. With his health deteriorating, he is going to need his family to see to his care. And we can’t very well do that with the Atlantic Ocean and most of the United States between us.”
“But he loves it here.” Tatem sipped her hot chocolate then asked, “I know it’s none of my business, but does he want to leave? He’s lived here so long.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure what he wants.”
Before she could ask more questions, the mayor began talking and soon the switch was flipped, lighting up the magnificent tree. Tatem could see that it was beautiful but she was upset over Heath leaving and possibly Stew being forced to leave as well. Her heart felt as though it was breaking into pieces. She wanted to walk away from the crowd, but she was trapped, forced to ooh and ahh over the tree and accept thanks for Gus and her work stringing the lights. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Well, soon-to-be-partner, we’re a hit. The tree is more beautiful than I’ve ever seen it. Everyone says so.”
She forced a smile and hugged Gus close. “We did do a good job, didn’t we?”
When she pulled back, his smile faded to his most solemn look. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head . She feared if she talked, she would cry, and she wasn’t one for public breakdowns. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now I’ve got to find Nora.”
Gus’s eyes narrowed. “Okay,” he said cautiously. “Nora’s right there.”
“Good. I was afraid she had wandered away.” Tatem smiled again. “See you later, Gus. Do you want me to bring you a bear claw and a coffee tomorrow?” Normally, they didn’t work on Sundays, but Stew seemed so intent on having his home decorated for Christmas, theyʼd decided they couldn’t let him down. And while Tatem didn’t tell Gus just then, she felt it more important than ever just in case he was to be taken from his home of forty years and moved all the way across the country and the Atlantic, which would make this Christmas his last in Mercy Ridge.
Tatem watched Gus walk away and turned to find Heath and Nora only to come face-to-face with Heath looking at her, his eyes the same deep gray as theyʼd been the first time she saw him.
“I’ve upset you,” he said.
Of course you’ve upset me! she screamed in her head. “I need to see if Nora needs a ride home or if she’s staying the night with me. We sometimes have sleepovers the way we did when we were kids—only now we have wine.”
Heath laughed. “I want to talk to you, Tatem.”
“Sure. We can talk in the morning. We’ll be at your uncle’s house early. That is, if there’s any point.” She saw Heath wince at the sharpness in her tone.
“Of course there’s a point. I suppose I’ll see you then. I need to get him out of this weather.” He gave Tatem a gentle kiss on her cold cheek.
They started off in different directions then turned back. Tatem wanted to run into his arms and stay there forever. And judging from the way he was looking at her, Heath seemed to be thinking the same thing. They started toward one another when Nora called to Tatem from across the courtyard, breaking the spell.
“I have to go,” Tatem said, walking away, her heart aching more with every step.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Nora said, nodding toward Heath, now almost out of sight.
“That’s all right. So. Are you staying over?”
Nora winced. “Rain check? Or should I say, snow check?” she asked with her face scrunched up the way it did when she thought she was in trouble—which she usually was.
Tatem looked up at the snow falling heavier. “Cute play on words. What’s up?”
“Randall Jenks. He’s coming over in”—Nora checked the time on her phone—“like ten minutes! I’ve got to run. You’ll be okay?” she asked pleadingly.
“Of course,” Tatem lied. “I’m so tired I’ll probably be asleep within the hour.”
Nora knew she stayed up late every night, but she must have really wanted to hang with Randall Jenks, because she seemed to accept the lie as fact and rushed away, waving over her shoulder.”
Tatem started to go in search of Gus to see if he wanted to meet her at the Memories Diner, but instead stuck her phone in her pocket and headed toward home, glancing at the spot Heath and she kissed such a short time before. It was funny, well not funny, more unsettling, that things could go from one extreme to the other so quickly. She fought back the tears until she was safely inside her little, now snow-covered house.
She closed and locked the door intent on having a good, secret cry but was met with a chill in the air that demanded immediate attention. She used gas radiators in each room but for some reason, there wasn’t any heat. Before she started checking into why , she thanked herself for stuffing the woodbins on each side of her fireplace with wood before the storm hit. One fire-starting log and carefully stacked wood atop it and soon a fire was crackling and dancing in front of her. She took off her gloves and rubbed her hands together in front of the heat, alleviating some of the chill.
With that done, she moved on to the radiators only to find that none of them were getting gas. She had no gas and it was the weekend—and right before Christmas. She was sitting on her knees in front of the fire, debating on what she should do next. She could repair a lot of things, but when it came to gas, she left that to the professionals.
She jumped at the sound of a knock on her door. She rushed over, sure she would find Nora standing in front of her ready for an all night talk fest and felt shocked to see Heath, a bottle of wine in hand.
“I’m sorry to just show up, but to be honest, I was worried you would say no if I asked to come over.” His normally strong masculine features were tempered with a boyish apologetic expression. How could she resist that?
“Come inside.” He stomped his feet on the welcome mat then wiped the snow from the shoulders of his coat and hurried inside, removing it after handing the bottle to Tatem. The fireplace was doing a good job heating the living room, but when they went through to the kitchen, Heath rubbed his hands together. “Do you always keep it so cold?”
“No!” Tatem’s eyes widened as she explained about the lack of heat from the radiators.
“And you were planning to stay here?”
“Were? Still am. I can camp in front of the fire and I’ll be fine.”
Heath took the corkscrew and opened the wine while Tatem rinsed out two wine glasses. “How about this?” he asked. “Let’s have a glass of wine in front of the fire then you come to Uncle Stew’s with me.” He raised his free hand as he poured the wine. “Before you say no, if you think about it, you’re to be at the house early in the morning anyway, so it won’t be that much of a change from your plans.”
Tatem almost said no but she happened to glance out the window at the snow, the huge, puffy flakes now falling so fast she could hardly see through them. “That might work. I’m not sure I have enough wood to get me through this storm.” She took a sip of the red wine and her eyes widened again. “This is delicious. I’m no expert by any means but this is very tasty.”
“It is. It’s one of my favorites. I only drink it on special occasions.”
“Why are you drinking it tonight?” Tatem’s asked, her voice low and sultry.
“Because I couldn’t think of anything more special than spending an evening with you on a cold, snowy night.”
Their eyes locked, a silence settling over the room leaving only the sound of the crackling fire and the beating of Tatem’s heart, which she was sure even Heath could hear. They sat their glasses down simultaneously as she slid her arms around his waist, pulled him to her, kissing him as if she would never see him again. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she feared that was exactly what would be happening—soon.
She gasped as Heath scooped her up in his arms and carried her through to the living room, setting her in her overstuffed, antique, floral print chair. He then took the cushions and pillows from the sofa and spread them on the floor, once again lifting her and laying her down gently, then settling beside her, and kissing her with an urgency to match her own. She lay back on the pillows, her hair splaying out, framing her face.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He sat up, propping his head on his hand, supported by his bent knee. “Tell me, Tatem. I need you to tell me how you feel about me.”
“Would it make a difference? If I told you I’m likely falling in love with you, would that keep you from leaving on Christmas Eve?”
Heath’s expression was such that he appeared to be in physical pain. “Honestly, I don’t know if I have that luxury. I have obligations.”
“I understand. I really do.” Tatem tried to imagine if Heath asked her to give up her entire life and move to another continent. It wouldn’t be a decision she could make without serious thought—not that Heath had mentioned her going with his uncle and him. She didn’t realize she was crying until Heath wiped a tear from her face with his thumb. Before he could pull his hand away, Tatem caught it, and pressed it against her face. She closed her eyes and said softly, “I know this for sure.” She opened her eyes staring hard into Heath’s. “I know I want you. I want you here and now.”
“Tatem!” Heath’s gravelly voice cried out before he pressed his mouth on hers. He kissed her like she had never been kissed—so gentle and at the same time so full of desire. She knew he wanted her too. But, just as she moved closer to him, he pulled away. “Not like this. Not under these circumstances.”
Tatem felt confused and embarrassed at his turning her away.
“Please don’t be hurt. I do want you.” Heath ran his hands through his hair. “My God, I want you with all my heart and soul. But I don’t want us to make love simply because we may not get another chance.”
Tatem very nearly argued. She felt close to begging. She hurt in a way she had never hurt before and didn’t know how to behave.
Heath stood and put on his coat asking her to come home with him, but how could she? She needed to be alone.
“If I get too cold here, I can always go to Nora’s. She lives close by.” Heath paused and Tatem nodded toward the door. “Just go, please. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. But...” Heath’s words faded away and he turned and left without looking back.
As soon as his car pulled away, Tatem dropped to her knees on the pillows and sobbed into her hands. She cried herself to sleep, and woke at four o’clock in the morning with the fire now merely a few hot coals. She was so cold she was shivering, her muscles aching from having tensed. She quickly built the fire up and ran to the hall closet for the thickest blanket she had. Soon she was warm and snug in front of a roaring fire and fell back asleep, a single tear slowly rolling across her face.
When she awoke again at seven, she felt groggy and miserable. One thing she was certain of, she couldn’t face Heath. She called Gus and used her heat being out as an excuse, telling him to call Sam, a guy they worked with off and on, to fill in for her. She set her phone on the side table, relieved that Gus didn’t question the real reason she wasn’t going to work. She looked in the mirror and groaned. It would take a lot of makeup to hide the fact that she had been crying. But The Pancake Club would be waiting and the house was too cold to stay there.
As soon as she walked into the Memories Diner, it was evident that Nolan had spread the story of having caught her in a compromising situation with Heath. She rolled her eyes and laughed at their banter. At least they made her feel better. “I’m going to throw pancakes at anyone who brings the subject up again.”
Chad looked at Sami who was serving the hot chocolates and said, “I don’t know. I think it’s worth it.” He turned to Tatem. “So, Tate, you saw Dolan at the tree-lighting ceremony.”
“I did,” Tatem said, as she tried desperately to maintain a state of casualness.
Sami leaned in and whispered, “Is he a good kisser? I’ve heard the Brits can be a bit uptight.”
“No,” Tate said in a sing-song voice.
“No to which?” Sami had a huge grin on her face.
Tate rubbed her forehead. “No to the latter.”
“Cool.”
When Tatem finally managed to change the subject, she learned the town had a gas leak and half the town was without gas. One call to Nora had her fixed up, however. She went by her house to gather her things and quickly tossed the cushions and pillows back on the sofa, causing papers to fall to the floor. She picked them up, frowning. They had to have fallen from Heath’s pocket. She held them, still folded, debating whether or not to read them, finally giving in and unfolding them. There was an unsigned power of attorney that would grant Heath Power of Attorney over Uncle Stew, the property deed and a letter from Heath’s dad, or so Tatem surmised. The letter was to Stew explaining that they wanted him home for a visit and for longer, if his health prevented him from living alone any longer. Were it not for the Power of Attorney form the letter would have been very nice, but with it, Tatem couldn’t decide.
Although Tatem wanted to simply hide away at Nora’s house, she allowed herself to be dragged along on a Christmas shopping excursion. Tatem had already done most of hers, especially pleased to get Gus the pattern replicator for woodworking. He always said that beauty in any building structure was in the details. She hoped he would be ecstatic and surprised at the gift..
“What do you think about this for my dad?” Nora asked picking up a green sweater.
Tatem squinted , and tilted her head. “Don’t you think he has enough sweaters?” That was the fallback gift Nora always gave him. “Why don’t you get him something for fly-fishing?”
They went to a sporting store and both left with expensive fly reels and rods. Tatem figured Stew would like one and she couldn’t help but get Heath one as well. It would be a Christmas/goodbye present. She wasn’t sure about giving him a gift at all, but Nora assured her it was the right thing to do.
The following morning was Christmas Eve and Nora once again talked Tatem into shopping, this time for a dress for some party she was intent on dragging her to. Tatem wanted to drop the gifts by Whispering Pines before Heath left, but Nora said she had a better plan. It was obvious she was keeping some secret, or scheming in some way, two things about which she normally cracked and spilled the beans, but this time she wasn’t breaking. That evening, Tatem forced herself to put on the red dress Nora and Lisa, the boutique owner, insisted looked perfect on her, then did her makeup and for a special change, piled her hair up in a twist, leaving stray tendrils falling around her face.
Nora walked in looking great in a green dress and froze in her tracks. “Wow!” “Too much?” Tatem asked, tugging at the short hemline.
“No! You look amazing, my friend. Perfect. Now we need to get going. We are going to be late.”
Only when Nora turned onto the winding drive up to Whispering Pines, did Tatem ask more about the party. But all Nora would tell her was that, no, she wouldn’t stop the car and yes, Tatem had to go with her. Tatem dreaded going there knowing Heath had probably already left. How could she keep from bursting into tears? At least perhaps his Uncle Stew had been able to stay in his home. Still, though, she would be thinking about Heath and missing him the entire time.
She got out of the SUV, realizing there were enough cars in the drive for the whole town to be there. “What is going on?”
“I told you. It’s a Christmas party. Now get moving.”
They went inside, greeted by Stew and Gus. Tatem complimented the decorations and said polite Happy Christmases to those around her then escaped out back onto the terrace fighting back the tears threatening to stream from her eyes.
“I was told you love Christmas.”
Tatem, who stood looking down at the river, froze in place. Was she really hearing Heath’s voice? She turned slowly, sure she must be hearing things. When she saw him before her, looking as handsome as any man could in his tux, she fought the urge to run into his arms. “Heath.”
“You look beautiful, Tatem. Amazing.”
“Thank you. You look very handsome.” Heath wore a tux well. “I...” Tatem’s voice broke. “I thought you would be gone already.”
Heath walked slowly toward her, his gaze never leaving hers. “There’s been a change in plans.”
“There has?” Tatem dared not hope for the one thing she wanted for Christmas more than anything she had ever wanted, for Heath to stay.
“Yes. I’ve decided to stay on here with Uncle Stew.”
“For good?” Her voice broke from her emotions.
Heath shrugged. “I’ll be traveling back and forth some, but yes, this will be home.”
“How did this come about?”
Heath was finally right in front of her. She dropped her head not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes. He lifted her head. “It came about because I fell madly in love with a beautiful and talented handyperson.” He smiled and carefully wiped away her tears. “Now all I need to know is...” His paused seemed interminable. “Do you love me back?”
Tatem had never felt so full of love and emotion as she was at that moment. She brushed a lock of hair off Heath’s forehead then looked deep into those dark gray eyes. “I do love you. I love you so much it hurts. And my heart has been breaking at the thought of you leaving and me never seeing you again.”
Heath gathered her into his arms and kissed away all of her worries. They were so caught up in one another, they hadn’t noticed that everyone came outside and gathered around them. Tatem was embarrassed when she realized they weren’t alone.
“What’s going on?” she whispered to Heath.
“I think they’re here for this.” Heath reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a box before dropping to one knee, despite the snow. He opened the box to reveal a beautiful antique diamond engagement ring. “It was my mother’s ring and her mother’s before that. Tatem Springs, I know we haven’t known each other long, but I fell crazy in love with you the moment we met and if you will say yes, I promise to spend the rest of our lives proving that love to you, all day, every day.”
Tatem looked over at Gus and smiled before looking down at Heath. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you, Heath Stewart Brighton. She nodded her head, her eyes pooling with happy tears. “Yes,” she whispered. Yes, I will marry you.”
Heath jumped to his feet and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around. When he finally set her down he kissed her softly, his hands gently cupping her face. “You, my love, have made this the happiest Christmas of my life.”
“Mine, too!”
They looked at the happy crowd and everyone shouted, “Merry Christmas!”
And it was. What had begun as a typical Christmas alone had turned into the most magical of holidays. It seemed that everything for Heath and for Tatem had been repaired—as it should have been. After all, Tatem was the best handy person in Mercy Ridge.