Susan Wiggs - Candlelight Christmas

“Okay. I think we wore them out sufficiently, and they’re exhausted enough to sleep. Charlie practically fell asleep in his Christmas Eve Frito pie.”

India had no idea. Darcy had kept the Bobcat mishap to herself on condition that the boys put the manger back in readiness for Christmas morning. She had worked the boys like a pair of rented mules. Fueled by pure repentance and helped by the incredibly understanding chief of police, they had put the manger back in order quickly. They’d managed to swaddle the broken baby Jesus so it would look brand-new. Tonight’s layer of fresh snow would cover their tracks.

In the course of repairing the damage with Charlie, she had made two discoveries. Number one, she was falling for the little boy as hard as she was falling for his father. And number two, telling Santa he wanted a snowboard for Christmas was merely a diversion Charlie had set up. As they were finishing up with the manger, André had pulled her aside and whispered the truth. She only hoped there was enough time to do what had to be done.

The process of getting the kids off to bed began with a chorus of groans from the kids. “The sooner you get to bed, the sooner Santa comes,” China reminded them.

“And the pickle prize,” Darcy reminded them. “Don’t forget that.” She explained the game to them, and eventually they were all rounded up and sent to bed. Darcy went in to tell them good-night.

“Thank you,” said Charlie, “for, um, helping us out today.”

“You’re welcome.” She didn’t lecture him. She knew he’d learned his lesson. She’d seen it on his face at the scene of the crime.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you help us?”

“I have four older sisters. I know all about doing something dumb, and getting in trouble, and trying to make it right, and then moving on. And by the way, that’s a nugget, Charlie.”

“A what?”

“A nugget. Like a nugget of wisdom. Something to remember as you go through life.”

“What, like there’s a rule that I should never do something dumb?”

“No. Just assume you’re going to because you’re only human. The important thing is to make it right and move on.”

“Okay. I’m really glad you helped us.”

“I always help the people I love.” It just slipped out. She stared at him, and the little red-cheeked face and bright green eyes stared back at her.

His gaze never wavered. “I love you, too. I hope you stick around.”

Oh, boy. This could go so wrong. Charlie was a new love interest for her heart—and also a new risk. If things didn’t work out with Logan, her loss would be doubled. She’d been there before and feared going there again. On the other hand, the excitement she felt for Logan was doubled, too. Maybe it was time to quit being afraid.

“Good night, Charlie. I’ll see you on Christmas morning, okay?”

“They’re nestled,” said Marion O’Donnell, coming down from the kids’ room.

“All snug in their beds,” added Al.

“Then Santa had better get to work,” said Bilski, nudging India. “We’ve got a pair of bikes to put together.”

“Humbug,” she said. “I’d rather have a hot toddy and go to bed.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” said China’s husband. “But only if you promise to help me with the dollhouse. All that itty-bitty furniture. I don’t get it.”

“We’ll put out the milk and cookies,” said China.

“You can put them right here,” Logan said, indicating the table next to him. “Santa needs a snack.”

Seated on his other side, Darcy felt a warm sense of contentment. She liked this family. She liked the interplay and the way they cared for one another. It reminded her of her own family, before the trouble with Huntley began.

She felt relaxed and at peace, far from trouble now.

India checked her phone. “Your mother sent a text message,” she said to Bilski. “She wants to know how we’re making it through the storm.”

“Tell her we’re suffering.” Bilski helped himself to another beer.

The coming storm was making national news because of its predicted size and severity. Currently it was hurling itself across the Great Lakes, gathering strength.

They went over the next day’s agenda like a team of battle commanders. “I’m going to get the ham in the oven before we go to church,” said Marion.

“We need to leave early,” China said. “Midnight service was canceled because of the storm, so the morning celebration is going to be packed.”

“Is everything in place for the live feed to Angelica’s mom?” Darcy asked.

Logan nodded. “We did a test run. It’s all going to come together, blizzard or no blizzard. If the internet service goes down, there’s a cellular backup.”

Darcy felt a wave of warmth for him. She loved that they were working together on this project. She just hoped it was enough to make Christmas bearable for Angelica and André.

The others peeled off gradually, everyone going to their rooms, until it was just Logan and Darcy and the roaring fire.

“Can I just say, I love this?” He gestured at the roaring fire with an impossible number of stockings hanging from the mantelpiece. “All these stockings. My mom and sisters are serious about stockings.” They were different colors, but all the same size so the kids wouldn’t bicker over them. There was a photograph of each person pinned to each stocking.

“It’s nice,” she said.

“I love having a big group like this, a big family. A tribe.”

She didn’t answer. She’d come from a big family, one that was tribelike. And it hadn’t worked out so well for her.

His hand dropped from the back of the sofa to her shoulder, gently caressing. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“Coming on to you.”

“That’s exciting.”

“I think so, too.”

It was quiet and warm in the room, with music drifting from the speakers. It was briefly interrupted by a storm update. The new prediction was for up to three feet in Ulster County.

“Are you worried?” she asked him.

“I have a rule,” he said. “No worrying on Christmas Eve. Oh, and I have insurance, just in case. I was in the business, so I’m covered. Actually, there is one thing I’m worried about.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“How to get you to spend the night with me.”

And there it was. The invitation she had waited for, hoped for, yearned for and at the same time dreaded. Before she opened her mouth she honestly did not know what she would say.

“Sometimes all you have to do is ask.”

For Darcy, the biggest surprise of the night was not the blizzard. It was not the power of the wind lashing at the windows.

No, the biggest surprise was that Logan delivered on every single promise he’d made with his kisses. Yes, he really was that tender, that attentive to her. He seemed to know just how to make her want him with a yearning so intense it took her breath away. As stealthy as a pair of teenagers, they crept up the stairs to his room. The only light came from the string of colored bulbs hanging from the eaves outside, casting a rainbow glow across his high, peeled birch bed. The room smelled of woods and soap and some ineffable fragrance she found wildly arousing. He went over to a dresser and lit a tall column of a candle, dimly illuminating an area cluttered with unsorted laundry and a box of gift wrap, curly ribbon and gift bags.

“Sorry about the mess,” he murmured. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You weren’t?”

“Hoping, maybe. Not expecting.” He took her by the hand and brought her over to the bed.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

She started to reply, but he shushed her with a light brush of his thumb across her lips, and it was all she could do not to moan audibly.

“We’re already pretty good at talking,” he explained. “We can make conversation, joke around.”

“Yes, but—”

“Shh. Let’s see how we do at being quiet together.” He cupped the side of her head in his hand and kissed her, long and searchingly, his tongue teasing its way into her mouth. She ran her hands over his upper arms and around his shoulders, mapping the terrain of hard muscle under his soft sweater. He felt so good to her. She was so ready for this—another surprise. Before Logan, she’d wanted nothing to do with guys, and relationships. All she thought of was the risk and the emotional pain. Just a few weeks ago, she had been patently unable to imagine being vulnerable again, but suddenly she felt as if someone had let her out of a small, cramped box of her own making. Stepping back, she pulled her top over her head and let it drop to the floor. It felt wonderful, liberating, to finally leave the past behind and step into this unexpected new place—Logan’s world.

He took in a sharp breath, then put his hands at her waist and pulled her close, bending to place a line of kisses along her collarbone, then reaching around to unhook her bra, fumbling a little.

“It’s a front clasp,” she said, slowly guiding his hands to savor every bit of his touch.

He took it off, and made a wordless sound she found completely gratifying. He peeled his sweater off one-handed and dropped his jeans, and she followed suit. Then he pressed her back on the bed, onto the soft, age-worn quilt. She welcomed the weight of him, feeling amazed at how clear-eyed she was about wanting him. Instead of feeling smothered, she felt untethered, ready for adventure.

He pulled a ribbon of connected packets from a drawer of the bedside table. “Better watch out,” he murmured.