David read the note as soon as he returned home then had a difficult time sleeping, anxious to follow through with Secret Santa’s instructions. The next morning, he woke early, ate breakfast and then waited for Laura to arrive.
She came in looking wistful, last night’s cheer gone. “Those kids—they’re amazing, aren’t they?” she asked, obviously unable to get the children from the hospital off of her mind. But instead of looking happy about what they’d accomplished, providing a Christmas party and gifts for the kids, she looked miserable.
“They are amazing,” he agreed and waited to see if she’d explain what had happened between last night and this morning to change her outlook.
She glanced around the bookstore, empty as usual for the morning. Thankfully it’d been filling up as each day progressed, but the mornings often reminded him of the fact that the place had been empty for several years before it’d been steadily filled. “You’ve done a lot of good here. I hate to think about it closing,” she said.
“I do, too,” he said. Milton had delivered updated financial reports on Monday, and this time David had shared them with Laura. On Tuesday, they agreed that he shouldn’t borrow any more money from his line of credit and risk losing the farmhouse. He would close the doors December 31 and attempt to find another job in Claremont. He’d already been looking unofficially but had come up with nothing. If he had something lined up, maybe he could convince Laura to stay, to let him support her until she found a teaching job. Because the thought of Laura leaving didn’t sit well, at all. And it was about time for him to tell her why.
“Laura, I don’t want you to—” His words were cut short when the bell on the door sounded.
Zeb, wearing the Santa hat from last night, slowly entered.
“What were you saying?” she whispered.
David didn’t want an audience for this conversation. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Still feeling good about those kids,” Zeb said. “That was a great party, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was,” Laura said.
He started to smile but winced midway through.
“You feeling okay, Zeb?” David asked.
“For my age, if I get out of bed and can move around a bit, I’m feeling okay,” the older man answered. “I’m heading over to the nursing home this morning and wanted to take a few more of those suspense novels for Miss Tilly. Can y’all help me get a few together?”
“I’ve got to leave for a few minutes,” David said, “but Laura will help you out.”
She reached for his forearm, and he wished his long sleeves didn’t keep her skin from touching his. They’d kept everything low-key, done their jobs and been friends, ever since that date night. But David wanted to feel that closeness again. He wanted to hold her, and to kiss her, and to tell her how he felt—that he’d fallen in love with her—and then he wanted to tell her that she should stay in Claremont, and somehow they’d work everything out.
“You’ll tell me whatever you were going to say?” she asked. “Later?”
David nodded. “Definitely.”
For the first time this morning, she gave him a soft smile, and David prayed that everything would be all right. Somehow. But before he could work out the details, he needed to find out more about the note from Secret Santa. “I’ll be back in a little while, and then we’ll talk.”
“Getting more building supplies?” she asked. “What are you building up there, anyway?”
“Nah, I finished up with my apartment last week, and it was just a little renovating,” he said. Actually, it was a lot of renovating, and it appeared all of his work was in vain. The new room would probably never be used.
He ran a finger over the note in his pocket. “I’m going to the coffee shop,” he said. “Y’all want anything?”
“Already had three cups,” Zeb said. “And I won’t be here but a few minutes. Just going to pick up the books and then head on. Brother Henry offered to drive me to the nursing home this morning, and we’re leaving soon.”
“Okay, how about you, Laura?”
“Oh, yes, a mocha latte please.”
“You’ve got it.” He left the bookstore and made a mental note to go by the coffee shop after he followed the instructions on the note.
Waving to Laura and Zeb as he left, he did a double take to make sure she’d turned her attention to locating the older man’s books and didn’t watch where he headed. When they disappeared toward the rear of the store, David walked purposefully down the street and stopped in front of Claremont Jewelry before reading the note again.
Tomorrow morning, go to Claremont Jewelry. Tell Marvin Grier I sent you. S.S.
“Okay, Santa, here goes,” David said, opening the door and walking inside.
Mr. Grier was at the checkout counter ringing up the only customer in the store, Chad Martin. “Every year I’ve tried to surprise Jessica with her present, and every year she finds out before Christmas.” Chad accepted the small bag from the man then pointed a warning finger to David. “You tell her you saw me in here, and I’ll tell Laura the same.”
“Oh, I’m not shopping,” David clarified, even though he’d love to be able to shop for Laura in this store—would love to buy a ring that she’d wear for life, a ring that would proclaim she loved him as much as he loved her, truth be told. But that wasn’t why he was here. “I just came in to see Mr. Grier.”
“Sure you did,” Chad said, grinning. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret...but don’t you forget to keep mine. Just two days until Christmas. Maybe I’ll actually pull off the surprise this year.”
“Maybe so,” David said, tired of trying to explain why he was here, which was impossible, since he had no idea.
But Mr. Grier did. The minute Chad exited and the door snapped shut, he said, “I’ve been expecting you, David.”
“You have?”
He nodded. “Each year, Secret Santa typically purchases one or two things from me. I’ll find an envelope with cash and instructions by the register, and I never see who puts it there. Same thing every year. And this year, I got an envelope with instructions for you.”
“For me? I mean, I like your store and all, but I don’t really need any jewelry.”
“Obviously Secret Santa thought you did.” Mr. Grier handed David a small box and an envelope with his name written in the same block letters.
David opened the envelope and read...
This is not a gift. I am repaying a debt. S.S.
He ran a thumb over the top of the black velvet box then lifted the lid.
“No way.”
The ring was stunning, three diamonds centering an elegant band. Exactly the type he’d buy for Laura, if he could.
“Laura tried that one on,” Mr. Grier said.
“She did?” David was shocked.
“When her father was looking for the new wedding set for her mother,” he explained. “It fits, by the way, in case you’re wondering.”
“But I can’t accept this. And he says it’s repayment for a debt? No one owes me anything.”
“Well, Secret Santa must think he does because that’s a beautiful ring, and it’s paid for.” He looked behind the counter. “Hold on a minute. Yes, here are the appraisal papers for it. You’ll want that for insurance.”
David flipped through the papers, saw the value of the ring and gasped. “Definitely no one owes me that much!”
“You’ll have to take that up with Secret Santa,” Mr. Grier said, “assuming you figure out who he is.” He smiled. “I’m guessing you won’t.” Then he looked at the ring. “And I’m guessing you might be getting yourself a fiancée for Christmas. I really like Laura, you know.”
“I really like her, too.” David lifted the ring out of the box and held it up to the light. It was amazing.
“The three diamonds are princess cut,” Mr. Grier explained, “and they represent the past, present and future of your love.”
“And it’s paid for,” David said, finding it hard to believe.
“Paid for and yours.”
He folded the appraisal papers and slid them into his back pocket. Then he put the ring box in his front right pocket. Maybe this was a sign—a sign that everything would work out. Somehow he’d find a way to make a living in Claremont...and keep Laura here, too. As his wife, if she said yes. “Thank you, Mr. Grier,” he said, leaving the jewelry store in a state of disbelief. He, David Presley, had an engagement ring in his pocket...and a woman he wanted to give it to.
“Don’t thank me,” Mr. Grier called, “thank Santa.”