Five thirty in the evening on Christmas, and Arden should have been giddy with happiness.
Bing Crosby crooned from the stereo system in the DeMarco home. The smell of ham and pecan pie filled the house. Arden breathed in the familiar smells of Christmas and tried on a smile. It felt as fake as the plastic mistletoe someone had hung above the living room doorway.
She could hear her mom and Juniper bustling around in the kitchen, their laughter and muted chatter barely lightening her mood. It should have made her ecstatic. It had been too long since she’d heard Juniper really laugh. In the days after Emory’s death and Randy’s arrest, Arden’s friend had been looking increasingly drawn and tired. Juniper claimed it was morning sickness, but Arden suspected she was stressed over the ongoing investigation.
Evidence had quickly cast doubt on the circumstances of Dale’s death, but her friend was still waiting for Dale’s name to be fully cleared and justice to be served. Arden only hoped it would happen soon. The stress could not be good for Juniper or her unborn baby.
Arden rose from her father’s favorite recliner and made her way to the large bay window. Her shoulder was still stiff, her arm aching dully as she moved. She’d refused to let it ruin her Christmas. She’d decorated cookies, just like always. She’d helped decorate the Christmas tree. She’d done dozens of things that should have put her in the holiday spirit.
Somehow, none of them had.
She sighed, squeezed in next to the colorfully decorated tree, and looked out into the yard and street. A light layer of snow covered the ground, its surface painted gold with the setting sun. It was beautiful, breathtaking, nearly perfect.
And she still felt glum.
With her arm still in a sling, and doctor’s orders to take it easy for another three weeks, Arden had been relegated to light duty. Her mom had also given her the task of keeping Laney’s Aunt Rose out of the kitchen while the Christmas meal was prepared.
That should have been easy enough, but Rose loved people, and she’d wanted nothing more than to be in the thick of things. Fortunately, Laney had handed Rose one of the twins. Rose was currently ensconced on the couch talking gibberish to little Aiden.
Laney held Flynn, and the two women sat side by side, sharing and reminiscing like they did every year. Arden could have joined in, but for once, she didn’t feel like she had anything to say.
The men were in the family room playing a game of pool. Every now and then, one or the other would exclaim loudly at a particularly good or bad shot. Inevitably they’d argue that someone had cheated and there would be no clear winner.
Arden smiled at the predictability of it all. The family had expanded over the years, but the bonds between them were far from weakened.
Hearing a soft rustling near her feet, Arden looked down to find Sebastian under the tree. He was nestled between two immaculately wrapped Christmas presents and amusing himself by batting at a low-hanging bulb. She carefully knelt down and scooped him up with her right arm. He immediately snuggled his head up under her chin, his front legs wrapping around her neck. He purred loudly.
“I love you, too, buddy, but if you break another bulb Mom will kill me.” She rubbed her face against the top of his head and thought about carrying him into her room and taking a nap. That didn’t seem very festive, so she stayed put.
After her release from the hospital, and at Kane and Grayson’s insistence, Arden had temporarily moved in with her parents. Her mom had been happy to have her home, of course, and Arden had enjoyed the preparations for the holiday, even if she hadn’t been able to do much to help.
“Why so glum, doll?” Rose said. Arden glanced her way. Laney had disappeared and both babies were sleeping in their travel beds.
“I’m not glum,” she said, her voice as bright and hard as a new penny.
“You think he ditched you, right?”
“Who?”
Rose laughed. “The man who was at the hospital every single day you were in it? The one who has driven you to almost every doctor’s appointment you’ve attended? Kane Walker? Did he tell you he was coming?”
“He was supposed to be here a half hour ago,” she responded. “He’s not here. I’m not sure what your definition of ditching is, but that kind of seems like it to me.”
“Half an hour, huh?” Rose patted her white curls and sighed. “That seems like a long time when you’re waiting, but in the grand scheme of life, it’s less than the blink of an eye.”
“I know.” Arden really did. Half an hour wasn’t long. Anything could have happened to keep Kane from arriving on time. Her head knew that, but her heart was telling her something different. It was telling her she’d been fooled before.
“Of course you do. Just like you know he’s coming because he said he would. Some men are like that. They say what they mean and do what they say. When you find a guy like that, you really should hang on to him.”
“I know that, too,” she said, setting Sebastian down a few feet away from the Christmas tree.
“Then why are you letting your worries ruin your day?”
“I’m not.” Much.
“I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice, Arden. Because I’m old and I can. Do you mind?”
Arden smiled, her first real smile of the evening. “You know I don’t, Rose.”
“Leave the past where it is. Enjoy the moments that are given to you and the people who are in those moments. Once they’re gone, you can’t get them back.” She smiled. “Now, how’s that for Christmas cheer?”
“I kind of liked it,” Arden said. She leaned in and kissed Rose’s soft cheek. “Thanks.”
“If you want to thank me, go see if you can find some real mistletoe. That plastic crud has got to go.” She waved at the glossy, fake-looking sprig.
“Are you planning to steal a midnight kiss underneath it?” Arden teased, and Rose grinned.
“Stranger things have happened. But not under plastic mistletoe.”
“My mom left a box of Christmas greenery on the porch. Maybe there’s some in there.”
“No need for you to go outside, my dear. I was kidding. Fake mistletoe won’t ruin this lovely holiday.”
“I don’t mind looking, Rose.” The box had been sitting there for nearly a week, forgotten in the excitement of the twins coming home from the hospital. Arden had planned to drape the greenery around the porch railing and tack it to the windows. She’d also planned to put up the fresh green wreath with the pretty red bows that her mother had bought from the local Christmas tree farm.
No one had let her touch any of it. She was too weak, too delicate. She was still recovering. The list of reasons had been long, and Arden had been too tired to argue. But now the greenery was still in the box, and it seemed a shame to waste it.
She shoved her feet in boots but didn’t bother with a coat. She wouldn’t be outside for long.
She stepped onto the porch. Cold wind whistled beneath the eaves, and the air smelled like snow and evergreen and fresh apple pie.
She rifled through the box one-handed and pulled out a long rope of greenery. There were tiny Christmas lights woven through it, and she could picture the porch railing glowing colorfully once the sun went down.
She dragged the greenery from the box and walked down the porch stairs, the chilly winter evening filled with the quiet Christmas hush that she’d always loved so much. There—in that quiet expectancy—she’d always felt God’s presence. There, more than anywhere else, she’d always felt at peace.
She wrapped the greenery around the railing, then added more to each of the balusters, humming Christmas carols as she went. Every bit of greenery that went up made her happier. Why not do what Rose had said? Why not enjoy the moments and the people in them?
It was Christmas of this year, and she was here to enjoy it.
“O holy night!” she began, belting out the familiar carol. “The stars are brightly shiiiiining—”
“If I’d realized you’d be singing, I would have gotten here sooner,” Kane broke in.
She whirled around, saw him walking down the snowy sidewalk. He’d parked up the road, the driveway too filled with family cars for his SUV to fit. She could see the gleaming hood of his Chevy near the corner of the street. A man got out of the back passenger seat. She thought it must be Silas, but she was too busy focusing on Kane to pay much attention.
“You’re here!” she said as she walked into his embrace. “Finally.”
“Sorry I’m late. I had to take a quick trip to pick up a surprise.” He kissed her forehead, shrugged out of his coat and dropped it around her shoulders. “I’m assuming you have a reason for being outside without a coat?”
“Just living in the moment,” she responded.
“Could you have done that with a coat on?” he asked.
She smiled and took his hand, pulling him up the porch stairs. “I’m looking for mistletoe. Rose doesn’t like the fake stuff my mom hung.”
“I’m shocked,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling.
“That she doesn’t like plastic mistletoe?”
“That you don’t want to know what the surprise is.”
“Logic dictates that surprises are meant to be secrets that are revealed when the presenter is ready.”
“What if I’m ready?” he asked. He put a hand on her good shoulder and turned her back to face the street.
Two men were walking toward her, a dog trotting along beside them. She recognized Silas and Dutch immediately. The other man was tall and broad-shouldered, his hair cut in a military style, his face partially covered by a thick layer of white gauze. He was using a walker, easing up the street like an old man, but he wasn’t old. He looked about the same age as her brother...
“Jace?” she whispered, her heart recognizing him before her mind did.
“Jace!” She rushed down the stairs and met him on the walkway, her heart pounding in her chest. The last she and her family had heard, he was still in Germany trying to recover enough from surgery to make it home.
She stopped inches away from the walker, afraid to touch him. She wasn’t sure where he was injured or how badly he hurt.
“Jace,” she said for the third time, and he smiled, his eyes deeply shadowed.
“This is the first time I’ve ever known you to be speechless, kid,” he said, his voice raspy and rough.
“I can’t believe you’re here. We thought you were still recovering.”
“I am. I wanted to do it here.” He released his hold on the walker and pulled her close. “I’m glad to see you’re recovering, too.”
“Wait until Mom and Dad see you! All they’ve done is worry about you and wonder when you’re coming home.” Arden kept her hand on his arm as he held onto the walker again. He was trembling, and she assumed it was from pain and fatigue, but he managed to shuffle along the snowy sidewalk. Silas walked closely behind him.
“You should have had them drop you off in front of the house,” she said as they continued up the walkway.
“They tried. I refused. I won’t get better letting everyone baby me.”
“It’s not babying. It’s smarts.” Silas spoke for the first time.
“We’ll see if you say the same if you’re ever the one walking around with a metal cage holding you up.” They made it to the steps and Arden hurried to open the front door.
Warmth drifted out. Voices. Someone asked about the open front door and the next thing she knew, her family was there, peering out, seeing Jace. The explosion of noise and joy was deafening, and she stepped back, making room for her parents and three other brothers.
Her father grabbed the walker, and her brothers flanked Jace. He made it up the five steps like an old man with achy bones, but he made it.
She let them move past, stepping farther back to give them more room. She bumped into Kane’s familiar warmth.
“Are you happy?” he whispered in her ear.
“There are no words to describe how I feel right now,” she responded, her eyes burning with something that was beyond happiness or joy. This was home and family and Christmas and love, every color and sound and scent vibrant and beautiful and heartrending.
“Speechless again?” he teased gently.
She turned in his arms, looking into his dark eyes. “Yes, but it’s probably not something you should get used to.”
He laughed and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips.
“Thanks for the warning.” His gaze dropped from her face to her carefully chosen outfit. She’d spent hours deciding what to wear. She’d tried on a few dresses and even borrowed one of Laney’s skirts. She’d put on blouses and cardigan sets and a dozen other things that just didn’t feel right.
In the end, she’d opted for black jeans and the Christmas sweater she’d bought on clearance last January.
She tensed as Kane’s gaze lingered on the fuzzy yarn Christmas tree, tiny blinking lights, pom-pom Christmas balls.
His gaze finally lifted, and he met her eyes with a sweet, tender smile that took her breath away. “Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Not disappointing me. You look exactly like Christmas should, Arden. And you are absolutely the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
She probably should have responded, but she was speechless again. When he took her arm and walked her inside, she still wasn’t sure what to say.
She’d always been the DeMarco boys’ sister, the tough little girl who never backed down from a fight. She’d been the computer geek, the bookworm, the quirky woman who wore odd holiday sweaters, but she’d never ever been beautiful.
Until now.
* * *
Arden lit up the room. And not because of the flashing lights on her Christmas sweater. Her smile was bright and real and so beautiful it stole Kane’s breath.
Every. Single. Time.
He watched as she moved around the room, hugging her mother and her father, sharing their joy in her brother’s homecoming. There was no artifice with Arden. Everything she felt was painted in a million nuances on her stunning face.
She glanced his way, and her cheeks went pink, her eyes sparkling. She was what he’d been looking for since he was a kid. The port in the storm. The place to come home.
“Now is as good a time as any,” Silas said quietly, catching Kane’s eye.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask her what you need to while her family is around. Make it a memory they all can share. That’s what she loves most. Aside from you,” Silas continued, his gaze turning to Arden.
“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Si.”
“Are any of them wrong?”
“No.”
“So get to it. I’m starving, and if you start making your declarations of undying love at the dinner table, all the smarmy sweetness of it might kill my appetite.”
Kane went.
Not because Silas had told him to, but because he’d been right—Arden was all about family and memories, tradition and home. She turned as he approached, her smile as bright and tremulous as the shimmering tinsel on the tree.
“We forgot something,” he said, and she glanced around, frowning.
“We did?”
“The mistletoe?”
“It’s okay. I think Rose has forgotten.”
“Maybe, but I haven’t.” He took her hand, tugging her to the doorway where the shiny plastic mistletoe hung.
“But I’m thinking we shouldn’t switch it out,” he said. The room seemed to go quiet, the conversation fading as he looked into Arden’s bright blue eyes.
“Why not?”
“Logically speaking,” he began, and Arden grinned.
“Isn’t that my line?”
“Logically speaking,” he continued, pulling a small box from his pocket, “plastic mistletoe is better than the real stuff because it lasts forever. Like God and eternal life. Like love.” He opened the box and showed her the antique ring he’d found in a little shop in DC.
“Kane—”
“It’s just a promise. From me to you. That I will always be there when you need me. That when you’re ready, there will be another ring and a wedding and all the things that go with forever.” He took out the silver ring, a beautifully crafted dove in the center of a jeweled cross.
“It’s...beautiful,” she said. Her voice trembled, and he knew she felt what he did—the solemnness of the moment, the power of the bond they’d created together.
“Beautiful and unique. Like you. When I saw it, I knew it belonged on your finger. If you’ll wear it.”
“It’s the only logical thing to do.”
Someone laughed, but Kane was too busy looking into Arden’s face. Too busy watching a tear slide down her cheek to wonder who it was.
“Don’t cry,” he said.
“Sometimes, there’s just too much happiness to contain,” she responded. She held out her right hand since her left arm was still in a sling. He slid the ring on her finger.
“I love you.” He wiped the tear from her cheek. “Today and always.”
“I love you, too,” she replied.
“Then kiss already!” Aunt Rose crowed. “The mistletoe might be fake, but the love’s sure not!”
Arden laughed, and Kane leaned down, capturing her joy with a kiss that promised everything he wanted to give her—love, family, happiness. Home. For now and for always.
* * * * *
If you loved this story, don’t miss Mary Ellen Porter’s first heart-stopping romance
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Keep reading for an excerpt from CHRISTMAS AMENSIA by Laura Scott.
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