A power outage should have been the perfect distraction, offering them something to talk about besides her nerves, like, “Where are the candles?” And something to do, like fetching candles, instead of fighting off the little pheromones Jamie felt zinging around her like bees. The way the flickering firelight silhouetted Josh’s tall frame when he bent to snag a book of matches from the cookie tin made her think of romance novels, all the good parts. He returned and lit the candle on her table.
She should get her extra candles out of the kitchen cabinet. Come on, feet, let’s move. The cabinets are that way. But her feet betrayed her, standing perfectly still.
Now he was next to her. He was so big. Look at the size of those pecs. Wouldn’t it be fun to touch them? No!
“Do you have some more candles somewhere?”
Who asked about candles in such a seductive voice? A hiccup escaped her as she yanked open the cupboard door. Candles, candles. Romantic candlelight, candlelight dinners. Stop it!
Now he was behind her, so close they were almost touching. “So, why do I make you so nervous?” he asked softly.
“Because.” There. That explained it all. She pulled down another pillar candle. The one on the table was already doing its job and the room was starting to smell like apple pie. Josh took the other from her hand. Their fingers touched and she felt like he’d lit a fuse. It burned all the way up her arm and exploded in her chest.
“Because?” he prompted. He struck another match and touched it to the wick. Light blossomed between them, showing her the hard planes of his face, that strong angular chin, now stubbled with five o’clock shadow.
Fear flooded her—fear of what he’d do, what she’d do if he did it. One kiss and she’d be trapped. She couldn’t be trapped again. She took a step back. “Because I don’t like cops. I told you, I was married to one.”
That should have offended him, brought back a sharp retort. He should have stalked off in anger. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully, studying her. “The ex-husband. Did he beat you?”
She bit her lip and nodded. She could almost feel that horrible pain again; feel the emotional shock and betrayal. She shut her eyes.
“So, we’re all like that. Is that what you’ve decided?”
He made her fears sound so irrational. But they weren’t. Her wounds had taught her it was better to be safe than sorry. She turned her back on him. “I’m a dead end for you.”
She heard him heave a big sigh. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. Not every cop is a wife beater, Jamie. Really.”
So he said, but she’d heard enough stories in the news, seen it happen often enough to other women who loved the men in blue. Cops got wound too tight, and then put in a pressure cooker where they were expected not to blow. Of course they blew. And whoever was nearby when it happened became collateral damage.
“I wish I could believe you,” she countered. “I’m sorry, Josh. Anyway, there’s a reason I’m on my own. I like it that way.”
He stood there silently, probably trying to figure out what to say next.
“I’m sure your kids are wondering where you are,” she added, since he didn’t seem to be getting the message.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “You’re right. Good luck.”
She heard him walk across the floor, felt the cold rush in as he opened the door. Then the door shut and it was just her alone in her candlelit house.
A lucky escape, she told herself, and blinked back the tears.
The snow was gone in two days and life returned to normal. Normal wasn’t as satisfying as it used to be, Jamie realized as she finished up a batch of caliente fudge for the gift basket she was contributing as a door prize for the Christmas festival. Emma had contributed a quilt, which was going to be raffled off, with the proceeds going to the food bank. Heart Lake Holidays was always a big celebration, and she and Emma had been planning to go together for weeks. But now Jamie wasn’t sure she wanted to go. She was bound to run into Josh and his kids there, which would be awkward. It would also remind her of what was missing in her “normal” life. That was the last thing she wanted, but she couldn’t bail on her friend. Emma needed to get out and have some fun, take her mind off her troubles.
At nine, the shop phone rang. It was Emma, wanting to bail on going to the festival.
“What? Why on earth do you want to do that?”
“I’m just not in the mood. Anyway, I don’t have any money to spend.”
Emma needed this, and she was going to go to that festival and have fun even if Jamie had to drag her there and pin her lips up in a smile. “Well, I’ve got money. And I want to go,” Jamie insisted. Actually, she did, she realized. No matter what she told herself, no matter how much she kept trying to protect her heart, she wanted to go and at least get a glimpse of Josh and the girls, torture herself over what she didn’t dare take. “Come on. If you’re really good, I’ll get you one of those giant candy canes.”
Emma sighed. “Okay. I guess.”
“It’ll be fun,” Jamie insisted. “Take your mind off your troubles.”
“I don’t think anything can do that, but I’ll come.”
So, they closed up shop early on Saturday—nobody really hit the shops when the festival was going, anyway—and went to the center of town, where the main drag had been transformed into a fairground humming with booths and tents hung with cedar swags, tinsel garlands, and twinkle lights. After a lunch of vegetarian chili and cornbread from the Family Inn booth, they browsed their way down the street, checking out the jewelry, hand-knit scarves, and paintings. Jamie insisted on buying a pair of silver heart-shaped earrings for Emma as an early Christmas present. Then they drifted to the parade route to wait for the Christmas parade at two, which heralded Santa’s arrival (always in the back of a pickup truck stuffed with volunteer elves who threw candy to the crowd). This year Tony DeSoto had the honor, and he’d been bragging about his upcoming Santa debut to everyone who came into his wine shop.
“I wonder if it’s going to snow again,” said Jamie as she rubbed her mittened hands together for warmth. “It sure looks like it.”
The old Emma would have immediately expounded on the joys of a Winter Wonderland. The new, depressed Emma simply said, “The weatherman only predicted a thirty percent chance of snow.”
Jamie studied her friend. Emma’s mouth looked like it had forgotten how to smile and she had dark circles under her eyes. Worst of all was the darkness in her eyes. “Don’t give up, Em,” Jamie begged. “Things are going to work out.”
Emma shoved her hands into her coat pockets. “I know.”
The words were right, but her tone of voice was wrong, and Jamie knew Emma was only agreeing to shut her up. She wished there were such a thing as Santa. She’d ask him to bring Emma a fabulous new life for Christmas.
“Jamie!” called a little voice.
“Jamie!” another echoed.
“Here comes your fan club,” said Emma, managing a wistful twist of the lips.
Jamie turned to see Lissa and Mandy swimming through the crowd toward her. They were wearing winter coats and mittens and their curls stuck out from under floppy stocking caps. They both sported big smiles and their cheeks were kissed red from the cold, their eyes shining. She felt a painful tug on her heart. Why hadn’t these girls come with an accountant or a minister? Behind them she saw Josh, pushing politely through the crowd. He didn’t have to push hard. His size alone encouraged people to part before him.
The girls were in front of her now. “Santa Claus is coming,” Mandy informed her breathlessly.
“That’s what I hear,” she said, smiling. “Have you guys been totally good this year so he can bring you what you really want?”
They both nodded.
“What do you want for Christmas?” Emma asked.
“A new mommy,” said Mandy.
Lissa frowned at her little sister. “Mandy, Santa can’t bring us a new mommy. Daddy has to find her.” To Emma and Jamie she explained, “She’s just a baby. She doesn’t know how it works.”
“I am not!” cried Mandy.
Josh was with them now and frowning. “Are you two behaving like we talked about?”
“Sorry, Daddy,” they both muttered.
Then, back on track, they started chattering about what they’d done and seen so far. “We got to ride the merry-go-round,” said Mandy. “And Daddy got us hot choc’late.”
“Sweet,” said Jamie. She tried to keep her gaze focused on the girls, to not look up, but she couldn’t help herself. He was looking at her, desire plain on his face. She quickly refocused her attention on the girls. Well, that helped a lot.
“After the parade we get to buy something,” said Lissa. “I have ten dollars to spend.”
“Me, too,” said Mandy. She slipped her hand into Jamie’s. “Will you come with us?”
“Oh, we’re almost done,” Jamie said. Looking at Josh, she could feel her cheeks heating.
“Don’t bug the ladies,” he said sternly.
“They’re not bugging us,” put in Emma. “And we still have to check out the arts and crafts booths.”
They had just done that. Had Emma been having an out-of-body experience? Jamie turned her face so only Emma could see and scowled at her.
Emma ignored it. Suddenly she was really smiling and her eyes were starting to light up. Great. So now Emma was figuring to live vicariously through her friend’s love life. Except this was not a love life. This was a no-love life. “We did the booths. Remember?”
“Yeah, but I saw something I want to look at again.” Emma pointed up the street. “Look, guys. The parade is starting!”
Sure enough, there came the Heart Lake High marching band, and behind it the convertible with the mayor perched in it, all dolled up in a red coat and a Santa hat.
“I can’t see,” Mandy protested. Josh lifted her up onto his shoulders and in the process wound up standing closer to Jamie. She tried hard to swallow a hiccup.
And then another. This was ridiculous. She stood and fumed as the guys from Fire Station Number Nine drove past in their fire truck, siren blaring.
“There’s Sam,” said Emma, elbowing her. “Sam,” she called, and waved. Not that he could hear her with all the noise.
Right behind the fire truck came Heart Lake’s finest, bringing more noise and flashing the lights on their patrol cars. Why wasn’t Josh in one of those cars instead of here, next to her, giving her the hiccups?
The swing-dance club paused for a quick performance, shaking their hips to Kellie Pickler’s version of “Santa Baby.” “I thought we were going home after this,” Jamie said to Emma out of the corner of her mouth.
“I want to stay longer,” Emma said. “You’re supposed to be trying to cheer me up. Humor me.”
“This is not a movie moment,” Jamie informed her.
“Not yet, but it could be.”
No it couldn’t. They should have left before the parade. It was a lame parade anyway.
“Santa Claus!” cried Mandy, pointing.
Even though she was frustrated and totally irritated with her friend, Jamie couldn’t help smiling at the sight of Tony DeSoto perched on the back of a flatbed truck and surrounded by candy-throwing elves, waving, and holding his padded belly, faking a Santa laugh. Speakers blared “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.”
“This is just like A Christmas Story,” Emma gushed. “Well, the parade part anyway.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Jamie said. “Next maybe you’ll get a miracle on Thirty-fourth Street.”
“I’d take a miracle on Lake Way,” Emma replied.
Her smile suddenly vanished, and Jamie wanted to kick herself. Way to go, bigmouth.
As penance, after the parade she stayed and wandered the booths with the girls and Emma, Josh keeping a respectful distance between them. Like that helped. With every step, every turn, she was aware of him like a giant guardian angel in a blue parka and jeans.
Lissa drifted into the tent where Jamie had bought Emma’s earrings. The girl had expensive taste.
Emma followed her right on in, saying, “Oh, Jamie bought me some earrings here.”
Of course, they all had to troop in.
“Look, Daddy,” said Lissa, dragging him over to the table. “Can we get these?”
Jamie positioned herself by the door and pretended to watch the people drifting past, in and out, trying to keep some distance between herself and Josh.
Even though Lissa had lowered her voice, Jamie couldn’t help hearing her tell her dad, “I want to get these for Jamie.”
Not only was the dad falling for her, so were the kids. This was so not good. She stepped outside the tent, but she could still hear.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” said Josh.
“Why not?” There was an element of whine in Lissa’s voice now.
“It would embarrass her. We don’t know her that well.”
“Yes we do,” insisted Lissa.
Now Mandy chimed in. “Jamie’s our friend.”
“I want to get her these,” Lissa insisted. “I have money.”
“Those are more money than you have.”
“I have money,” piped Mandy.
Jamie wanted to burst in and say, “Don’t, girls. I’m a bad investment.”
“They’re still too much,” Josh said firmly.
“Daddy, can’t you give us a little more?” begged Lissa. “I’ll do extra chores.”
This was awful. She moved away, burying herself in the crowd of people.
A moment later Emma, Josh, and company joined her. Lissa was pouting and Josh had lost his easy smile. Emma looked thoroughly confused, as though she’d just seen a movie with an ending that didn’t make sense.
Jamie knew she wasn’t really responsible for this, but she couldn’t help feeling as if she, somehow, had to rescue the afternoon. She fell in step alongside Lissa. “That was really nice of you to want to buy me earrings.”
“You heard?” Lissa looked at her, chagrined.
“I did. But your dad is right. It’s important to learn not to spend money you don’t have. And besides, heart earrings are more of a boyfriend-girlfriend thing, aren’t they?” She was painfully aware of Josh walking behind them, probably pretending not to listen.
“But you bought some for Emma,” Lissa pointed out, shooting down that argument.
“Well, they’re for BFFs, too.”
“I wanted to give you something,” Lissa muttered.
“You’ve given me smiles,” Jamie said, hugging her.
“I want to give you a present,” Lissa said simply.
As if Jamie would always be in her life. She almost wanted to cry. “Sometimes the most special gifts are things you make, like drawings.”
“That’s for little kids,” Lissa said in disgust.
“Or cards. I know lots of grown-up ladies who like to make cards.”
“I guess,” said Lissa, sounding unconvinced.
“The best gifts aren’t always things we buy, they’re gifts from the heart that help us remember special times together. Honest.”
Lissa nodded, digesting Jamie’s words of wisdom.
“Look, Daddy, hats!” cried Mandy, running ahead to a booth sporting all kinds of goofy hats, and Emma took off after her and Lissa, leaving Josh and Jamie to follow along behind. Subtle as always.
“Thanks,” he said.
“No problem,” she said, keeping her gaze straight ahead.
“It’s not that I didn’t want her to give you those,” he added.
“I know.” She kept her gaze straight ahead.
“I just don’t want to make you feel like we’re pressuring you somehow. Although if I thought it would work, I would,” he added, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
Now she couldn’t help but turn to look at him. “I’m sorry, Josh. You seem like a great guy.”
“Actually, I am.”
“It’s just too scary for me.”
“I wish you could bring yourself to trust me. What if we turned out to be perfect for each other? What if, instead of scaring you, I made you feel safe?”
She shook her head. “I always thought I’d feel safe with Grant. The year I was married to him was the scariest year of my life.”
Josh nodded. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets as they walked. “I hope you find somebody who makes you feel safe. You deserve it. Until you do, maybe we can be friends.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” asked Jamie.
“No, but it beats not seeing you at all.”
Jamie nodded to where Emma stood, modeling a Cat in the Hat stovepipe hat for the girls. “There’s your perfect woman.”
“She’s great. Too bad she’s not you.”
They joined the others and Lissa held out a cap for Jamie to try on. It was orange with a coxcomb and designed to make her look like a giant chicken. She struck a pose. “It’s me, dontcha think?” The girls giggled and Jamie plopped it on Lissa’s head. “Oh, no. It’s you.” She held one of the hand mirrors so Lissa could check it out.
The child smiled at her reflection. “Can we get it, Daddy?”
“It’s your money,” he said.
“No, it’s my treat,” Jamie insisted. “Mandy, you pick one out, too.” That was bright. Here she was trying to distance herself from this family and now she was buying funny hats for the girls. And right after giving Lissa a lecture about not buying gifts. She needed a shrink.
By four the temperature was dropping and the sky was turning gray and the air was smelling like snow. “Well, girls,” said Josh, “what do you say we go home and let Grandpa cook up that pizza?”
“Pizza!” cried Mandy, jumping up and down.
“Can Jamie and Emma come?” asked Lissa.
Josh gave Jamie a you-can’t-stop-a-train shrug, and before she could come up with an excuse Emma was saying, “Sure. We can come.”
“Okay, we’ll see you there,” Josh said. He pulled Jamie aside and whispered, “Just friends. I promise.”
Just friends was so not going to work, not when every time she was with him she felt like a female Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, with Jekyll fretting that this experiment was a bad idea and Hyde wanting to grab Josh and swing from the chandelier together.
“Nice of you to commit us,” Jamie growled at Emma after they’d gotten directions and were walking to Jamie’s beater.
“If you don’t go after this guy you need to be committed,” Emma informed her. “Anyway, I want to go. I have no life.”
“I’ll take you home and you can drive yourself.”
“You’ve got new, all-weather tires and I don’t,” Emma argued. “I need your car.”
“I’ll loan it to you.”
“I can’t drive a stick. You’re stuck. This will cheer me up,” she added. “I want one of us to live happily ever after.”
Jamie grabbed her arm and shook it. “Don’t talk like that. We’re both going to live happily ever after. You’ll see.”
It almost felt like happily ever after at Josh’s house as they sat at the kitchen table, eating George’s slightly burned pizza and playing Sorry. The house was a simple tract home with rooms done in neutral colors. Jamie had seen a painting of the girls hanging in the living room as they passed through on their way to the kitchen. It looked like the work of an amateur, short on skill, long on love, and she couldn’t help wondering if it had been painted by the girls’ mother. Other than a well-worn crocheted afghan on the big, brown leather sofa, motherly touches were sadly lacking. Still, there in the kitchen, warm from the heat of the oven and filled with the sound of little-girl giggles, it felt like home.
“I won!” Lissa finally crowed as she moved her piece to the finish. “I’m good, I’m good,” she chanted.
“And modest, too,” observed Josh, who had actually done his share of crowing when he won the first game.
“Daddy, stop making fun,” Lissa said, and gave him a shove.
He pretended to fall off his chair, making the little girls giggle and the big girls smile. He resurfaced with a comeback. “You have to be humble if you’re going to be the Virgin Mary.”
“Daddy, that’s not for real. That’s pretend.” But still obviously important. Lissa turned to Jamie and Emma. “Can you come to our Sunday school program next week and see me? Mandy’s going to be an angel,” she added to sweeten the pot.
“Oh, gosh, we can’t miss that,” Emma answered for both of them.
“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Jamie said evasively. Lissa looked instantly worried. “But I’m sure I’m free,” she added, and the child beamed at her. Great. Is this how you distance yourself? You’re only making things worse for everyone. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
“Okay,” George said as he finished wolfing down the last piece of pizza. “Who wants root beer floats?”
“I do,” chimed the girls.
Jamie looked out the window and saw fat flakes of snow falling. Even though she’d probably be fine with her new tires, she wasn’t looking forward to driving home in the snow.
Josh followed her gaze to the window. “I hate to tell you this, but it’s been coming down for the last twenty minutes.”
“Oh.” That meant the roads would already be bad.
“How about letting me drive you both home after our floats?” Josh suggested.
“Good idea,” George seconded.
“But my car,” Jamie protested.
“Dad and I can bring it to you as soon as this latest mess melts away. Or I can drive your car.”
“Then how would you get home?”
“It’s not that far to walk from your place.”
Two miles in the snow? That was crazy. “We’ll be fine,” Jamie decided. “But we’d better leave now.” She stood and Emma followed her lead.
“Okay,” Josh said, and went to the coat closet. But when he was done fishing around for their coats he’d gotten his parka out, too.
“Oh, no,” Jamie protested.
“Oh, yes.” He grinned. “It’s easier than pulling you out of a ditch anyway.”
She sighed and resigned herself.
“Grandpa, can we make a snowman?” asked Mandy, root beer floats now completely forgotten.
“It’s cold out there,” George protested. “Why don’t you see if our guests will help you and your dad make one before they leave. Since you don’t have to worry about driving in the snow now,” he explained to Jamie.
George and Sarah were in cahoots, Jamie was sure of it.
“Great idea,” said Emma, and a moment later she was rushing out the door after the girls.
George and Sarah and Emma were all in cahoots.
Reluctantly, Jamie followed them outside.
Josh was already busy, helping Mandy roll a snowball into something bigger.
“This is getting out of hand,” Jamie whispered to Emma.
“No,” Emma corrected her. “This is getting good. Remember that scene in The Family Man . . .” she began.
That was it. She’d had enough of Emma and her movies and her matchmaking. She grabbed a handful of snow and deposited it down her friend’s back. “What movie is that from?”
Emma let out a yelp and squirmed away. She bent and picked up a handful of snow, but Jamie was already darting across the lawn.
In another minute they were all hurling snowballs at each other. Finally the focus shifted to Josh, with all the girls pelting him. He held up a hand. “Okay, okay, I give.”
“I want to finish the snowman,” said Mandy, who was starting to shiver.
“You’re getting cold, little girl,” Josh observed.
“But I want to finish . . .”
“I know, I know. We’ll work fast. Everybody help.”
A few more minutes and they had a snowman standing in the front yard with branches for arms, two tennis balls for big, googly eyes, and a carrot nose, and the chicken hat Jamie had bought for Lissa sitting on its head. And two little girls were laughing hysterically.
“Okay, now. Inside and take a hot bath,” Josh commanded. “And I expect you two to be in bed in your pajamas with your prayers all said by the time I get home.”
“Yes, Daddy,” they chorused. Then, before they went in the house, Mandy turned and hugged Jamie fiercely. Not to be outdone, Lissa hugged her from the other side.
“That was a real movie moment.” Emma sighed as she and Jamie started for the car while Josh nudged his daughters back into the house.
“This is not the movies,” Jamie reminded her. “And after the Sunday school program I’m cooling it with these guys.”
“Those kids need a mom.”
“Go for it,” Jamie told her. “You’ve got my blessing.”
“I would if I thought there was a chance. I saw how he looked at you. He’s hooked.”
“I’m into catch and release,” Jamie retorted.
Josh trotted up to them, ending the conversation. He opened the doors for them, and then took over the driver’s seat, squeezing his massive frame behind Jamie’s steering wheel. Moving the seat back helped some, but he still looked too big for the car.
He shouldn’t even have been in the car at all. What was she thinking? “You so don’t have to do this,” she reminded him.
“I know. I want to.” He smiled at her. “Makes me feel noble.”
“Okay, fine,” Jamie said irritably. “If you get hypothermia, don’t blame me.”
“I’m too tough for that,” he said, and edged the car out onto the snowy road.
They had a couple of slippery moments, but Josh easily kept the car on the road. By now, most people in their right minds were tucked safely indoors so the town lay quiet as they sledded around the frosted lake, which lay under a blanket of white, fringed by fir and alder trees with snowy coats.
“It’s like Narnia,” Emma said softly.
“It does feel magical,” Jamie had to admit. If this were some other man, some other time, she’d have sworn she was falling in love.
They got to Emma’s safely. Josh waited until she was through her front door before sliding the car away. It was a small, chivalrous gesture, and Jamie was beginning to suspect that it was typical of this man.
“While we’re out is there anything you need from the store?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I know,” he said with a smile, “but do you need anything?”
“I’ll be okay.”
He nodded and fell silent, and they drove the rest of the way with only the soft hum of her radio going. Sheryl Crowe and Sting began to sing “Always on Your Side.” She suddenly wanted to cry.
She dammed the tears back and quickly got out of the car the minute it came to a stop in her driveway. It was still snowing, gently though, with little flakes drifting down like the last remnants in a snow globe.
Josh unfolded himself from the car and walked around to where she stood by the passenger door. He lifted her hand and put her car keys in it. “Back safe and sound.”
“I’m sorry you have to walk home in the cold.”
“Me, too.” He closed her hand around the keys. “Call me if you need anything,” he added.
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “I’m sorry . . .” About a lot of things.
“It’s okay.” He gave her hand a squeeze, then pulled a flashlight out of his coat pocket and set off down the driveway.
She watched him walk away under an arch of bowing trees, snow drifting around him, and was possessed by a sudden, crazy urge to chase after him, to grab him and kiss him and tell him to come in the house and get warm. Instead, she ran inside the house and shut the door and locked it.
Josh had gone to college in Idaho, so snow didn’t bother him. He was at home skiing on it, driving in it, and walking in it. He also liked to end a day in the snow in front of a roaring fire.
Lissa had been conceived in front of a fire on a snowy night. That one last ski run had chilled Crystal to the bone and he’d been more than happy to warm her up. And boy, had she gotten warm in a hurry. It made him hot just remembering.
But the memory quickly cooled, leaving him feeling empty.
He could have done a good job of warming up Jamie Moore if she’d have let him in.
If he wasn’t a cop.
Josh couldn’t help what he was. His life path had been set from grade school when he was on the Safety Patrol, holding out that flag at the crosswalk, helping students get safely from one side of the street to the other. Boy Scouts, Ski Patrol—if it involved helping other people and keeping them safe, he’d done it. It was probably in his DNA. How did a man change his DNA?
He didn’t. He trudged on. Jamie had been right about one thing. It was a long way from her house to his.