Santa came!”
Beau bolted upright on the couch at the sound of Jack’s voice, his heart thudding like a jackhammer.
The boy scampered down the steps in his Superman pajamas in the predawn light. He jumped the last two steps, ran to the tree, and skidded to a stop.
“Look, Beau!”
Beau rubbed the sleep from his eyes, dredging up a smile. “I see, bud. Looks like you’ve been a good boy this year.”
“They’re not all for me, silly.” Jack got down on his hands and knees and began snooping.
“I reckon not. I’ve been good, too, you know. Is your mom awake?”
“No, but she said I can come down when it’s light out. I waited and waited, and it’s light out now.”
Beau’s lips ticked up. Jack had a generous definition of “light.”
Jack was back on his feet, climbing up on the hearth. He pulled the plate off the mantel, his brown eyes going wide. “He ate my cookies!”
“Of course he did.” And they were tasty. “Let’s get you a bowl of cereal, then I’ll call Zac. We can’t open presents until the whole family’s here.”
Jack’s face fell.
Beau chuckled, ruffling the boy’s sleep-mussed hair. “It won’t take long. You’ll see.”
Forty-five minutes later, his family was gathered in the living room. On the floor Jack tore off paper as fast as his hands could fly. Christmas carols played on the radio, and a fire crackled and popped in the background.
It had been years since they’d had a Christmas like this. It was long overdue, he realized. For a moment he pictured his dad in the corner recliner, his feet kicked up, watching the chaos of Christmas morning. He remembered the way his dark eyes sparkled a moment before his lips turned up. Remembered the deep chuckle that followed. From across the room, he could almost see his dad giving his famous two-finger salute.
“This one’s to Jack, from Santa.” Zac pushed the gift toward Jack.
Beau watched as the boy opened the gift he’d gotten him.
As the last of the paper fell away, a smile lit his face. “A tool kit!”
“Wow, that’s awesome.” Kate helped him open the box. “Someone must’ve told Santa what you wanted.” She shared a smile with Beau.
She looked as fresh as a spring morning in her yoga pants and faded pink T-shirt. Her face was freshly scrubbed, her silky blonde hair flittering around her pretty face. Where was the mistletoe when he needed it?
Jack pulled out the working plastic screwdriver, sized for a small boy. The tool whirred into action.
Zac had gotten Jack a Patriots jersey, and Aunt Trudy had made him a Superman cape. It was already tied around the kid’s neck. Aunt Trudy oohed and aahed over the leather Bible cover Kate had bought her and seemed pleased with the Knitting Nook gift certificate from Beau.
Zac opened a black sweater from Aunt Trudy and a wallet Riley had left for him. He’d gotten Beau a quality pair of work boots he’d eyed in L.L.Bean weeks ago when they’d made a trip into Ellsworth.
Beau waited patiently for Zac to reach the bright red box near the tree stand. When he finally did, he read the tag and handed it to Kate.
“This one’s for you, Kate. From Beau.”
Across the room, Kate read the tag. Her gaze bounced off his, a little smile tilting her lips as she peeled off the paper. The room seemed to shrink to only the two of them, the carols and chaos fading away. Her fingers worked the tape until the paper was gone, then she unfolded the flap of the white box. She lifted the gift from its nest.
Aunt Trudy was exclaiming over a gift she’d just unwrapped, but Kate’s eyes were fixed on the snow globe, her lips parting just before they tilted upward in a nostalgic smile. She tipped the globe upside down, gave the wind-up key a couple of twists, then turned the globe upright, watching the snow fall past the golden angel inside. Her smile widened.
Beau could barely hear the plinking notes of “Let It Snow,” but Kate’s smile was all that mattered.
Her eyes cut to Beau. He sensed the movement all around them, but he saw no one but Kate. Her beautiful honey-brown eyes, her sweet spirit, her quiet strength.
“Thank you,” she mouthed as she pulled the globe to her chest, her eyes filling.
The moment lingered, and his chest seemed to open, yawning wide. His lungs constricted until his next breath seemed impossible. This woman made him come undone. He was more than attracted to her. She’d found a way into his heart. He knew in that moment, with a surety that shook him to his core, that he loved her.
The thought slammed into him with the force of a snowplow. How could it be? Love didn’t happen this fast. Did it? In a matter of weeks?
Kate tilted her head, something shifting in her eyes as she searched his face.
He fixed a smile on his lips and let out his breath when she broke eye contact.
She tucked the globe carefully into the box and dropped the wrapping paper into the waiting bag.
When they were finished with the presents, Aunt Trudy pushed to her feet, hobbling. She held out a trash bag. “All right, let’s clean this mess up.”
Bright shreds of paper and cockeyed boxes littered the room. They went into action, the carols keeping things festive. Beau picked up a silver bow near Kate and stuck it on her head.
“Thank you,” she said, beaming.
He held out a bag while Jack stuffed it with wads of wrapping paper. He could smell the yeasty aroma of the cinnamon rolls Kate had slid into the oven awhile ago, and his stomach gave a deep grumble. Across the room, Kate dumped an armload of paper into a bag Zac held.
He was so aware of her. Even when he wasn’t looking at her, his sensors followed her like a beacon.
“Mistletoe.” Aunt Trudy pointed at the ceiling above Kate and Zac. “Lay one on her, Zac.”
Beau’s heart gave a hard squeeze as his brother made a big deal of sweeping Kate into his arms, dipping her backward, and laying a loud smooch on her cheek.
He heard Aunt Trudy applauding and Jack giggling, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of Zac and Kate. He wanted to rip his brother’s hands off of her. He reminded himself that it meant nothing. That Zac was still in love with Lucy.
Kate’s laughter was still ringing out when Zac brought her upright, embracing her in those gorilla arms of his.
Beau gave him a shove. “All right, that’s enough,” he said in a tone that didn’t quite reach playful.
Zac cuffed him on the back of the head, his eyes twinkling.
After they’d stuffed themselves on cinnamon rolls, Aunt Trudy shooed them outdoors. They rode the snowmobiles for a couple hours, laying new tracks in the freshly fallen snow. They took it slow, Kate driving Riley’s sled and Jack riding behind Beau, wearing his old helmet. He thought about Kate a lot as the machine cut through the pine forest, its high-pitched whine echoing off the hills.
He thought of their kiss—had it really been two days ago? The image of Zac’s kiss barreled into his mind. When everyone had filtered into the dining room for cinnamon rolls, Beau had confiscated the mistletoe. If anyone was getting another kiss from Kate, it was going to be him.
After sledding they hung out around the house, talking and laughing. Zac did his imitation of the Christmas tree shaker, and Eden laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. The sheriff stopped by later in the evening, much to Aunt Trudy’s dismay.
Beau followed him out to his patrol car when he left, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets to keep them warm. Their boots crunched on the shoveled walk as they left the golden puddle of the porch light. The sun had gone behind the hills, and the western sky was swathed in deep purple hues.
“Got any news for me?” Beau asked when they’d cleared the house.
Sheriff Colton turned at his car, popping a mint into his mouth and offering one to Beau.
“My contact, Oakley, wanted to meet with Kate. I told him no, and he wasn’t happy. She’s wanted for questioning in the murder of Marshals Walter and Brown. Needless to say, Marshal Langley told a different story from Kate’s—Eden’s.”
“She’s not going anywhere. It would be suicide, and you know it. They’d no sooner have her in their custody than the moles would find a way to—”
Colton held up a palm. “It’s what I told him. He agreed to speak to Chief Deputy Chambers about putting surveillance in place for Marshal Langley and Deputy Morris. Needless to say, Chambers is going to be resistant. These are his men, and he trusts them.”
“Well, two of his marshals turned up with slits in their throats. Does he really think his witness is the culprit? An innocent young mother who’s been traumatized?”
“I know, I know. Good news is Chambers trusts Oakley. They go way back, so don’t lose hope.”
Beau palmed the back of his neck. “I wish I could do something.” He’d gladly speak to Chief Deputy Chambers on Kate’s behalf, but doing so would only lead them right to Summer Harbor.
“When’s Oakley talking to the chief?”
“Tomorrow. Say your prayers.”
“I’ll do that.”
He was distracted when he entered the house a few minutes later, his mind full of worry and dread. He bypassed the noisy dining room where a game of Uno was under way and went upstairs. He needed a few minutes to regroup.
The light was on in Kate’s room, and he paused at her doorway watching as Kate set a suitcase on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped, then wilted, palming her chest. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. What’s with the suitcase?”
The latch clicked as her fingers sprung it free. “It’s almost time for us to go.”
“Aunt Trudy’s still on crutches.”
“Only for a couple more days. Besides, you’re here all day now. You don’t need me around.”
“I’m only here to keep you safe.”
“Exactly. The sooner I go, the sooner you can get back to work, and the sooner everything will return to the way it was.”
He covered the distance between them in two steps. “Nothing will ever be the way it was, Kate.”
She turned to grab a stack of T-shirts from a laundry basket. “Of course it will be,” she said calmly.
But her hands were shaking, and she tucked her hair behind her ear in that nervous gesture of hers.
He grabbed her hand. She was a breath away, her eyes on the floor between them, her hair falling forward again. The sweet citrusy scent of her had become as familiar as the tangy scent of the ocean. He pushed her hair behind her ear, the silky softness teasing the pads of his fingers.
“I don’t want you to go, Kate.”
“You know I can’t stay.”
He nudged her chin upward until her eyes met his. Those eyes, filled with tragedy and strength. She thought she had to do this all alone. He loved her enough to see it through. He’d lay down his life for her—he knew that with every cell in his body.
But he knew her too. He knew his declaration wouldn’t be welcome, just as his kiss had not been. And still, he needed her to stay long enough for the feds to do some surveillance. Long enough for them to uncover the moles. Everything would be different then. She wouldn’t have to fear for their lives, wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder, wouldn’t have to run off to some cabin in the woods.
“Just for a little while,” he said. “If Oakley had tipped off the moles, they’d have been here by now. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed till the trial’s over.”
A couple weeks, maybe. Not nearly enough time.
“We won’t be safe even then. I know who they are. They’re not going to let that go. Not ever.”
“Till New Year’s then.”
He saw the refusal in her eyes and pulled the mom card. “Stay here where it’s warm and safe. Jack likes it here, and he’s doing so well. He’ll love our New Year’s celebration. We have a countdown in the town square, and we drop a lobster. After midnight we light fireworks off a barge in the harbor. It’s a lot of fun. You don’t want to miss it.”
The clock ticked on the nightstand behind her, marking time. Beau’s thumb swept over her jaw. He was so persuasive. Not his words so much as his touch, his presence. All reasons she should shove their belongings in the suitcase and head out the door.
And yet . . .
“I don’t know . . .” She couldn’t think when he caressed her face so gently. All her rational thoughts scattered like flurries on the wind.
“Next week we can go snowmobiling again. You know Jack loved it. And we’ll take him sledding on Mulligan’s Hill—that’s where we sledded as kids. We’ll just hang out, have fun. He deserves a little fun. You both do. Come on, what do you say?”
She remembered Jack’s words in bed the night before. He loved it here. It had become a temporary home, these people his temporary family. He needed security right now, normalcy. And the Callahans had provided it in spades. Would a few more days really hurt? The cabin wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’m not ready for you to go.” His voice was thick and smoky.
She fell headlong into his onyx eyes, and her heart wavered at the wistful look there. Her heart, her mind, her body. His nearness made her insides hum, made her breath catch in her throat. His spicy scent filled her nostrils, and she drew in a deep breath of him.
He cupped her face, his eyes mingling with hers. “Stay,” he whispered. “Please.”
She could deny him nothing when he looked at her that way. When he spoke to her that way. They’d stay for a week. Just one more week. What would it hurt?
“Just till New Year’s.”
His lips turned up a fraction of an inch. She’d missed those lips. Had it been only two days? It seemed forever since she’d been in his arms. She leaned closer. She shouldn’t, she knew that. But her body, her heart, knew something different.
His lips brushed hers, softly. Slowly. Just once. Not nearly enough. Her heart pounded against her ribs as he drew away.
His thumb stroked over her lip, a poor substitute. His restraint showed on his face. He was being smart. Not pushing his luck. After all, she’d said this was a bad idea, and now she was kissing him again. But she couldn’t seem to get her head and heart on the same page.
Would it be so awful to enjoy this while it lasted? How attached could she get in a mere seven days? It would be a good memory to take with her, something to keep her warm during the lonely winter nights.