Christmas Romance (Best Christmas Romances of 2013)

Christmas Romance

The Best Christmas Romances of 2013

Danica Winters

Jennifer Conner

Sharon Kleve

Casey Dawes

Christmas Romances of 2013

A Books to Go Now Publication

Copyright
©
Danica Winters, Jennifer Conner, Sharon Kleve, Casey Dawes
2013

Books to Go Now

Also published on Smashwords

For information on the cover illustration and design, contact [email protected]

First eBook Edition –September 2013

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

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Christmas Wishes

Danica Winters

Chapter One

A solitary snowflake landed on the pine wreath in Lee Llewellyn’s hands. Its lacy white edges curled around the warm boughs like melting fingers, dripping down the pin-point needles and falling unceremoniously to the frozen grass of the cemetery.

The grass crunched under her feet as she made her way to the familiar marble headstone with the bird inscribed in the black-inked stone. Last week’s roses lay at the base, their heads drooping in icy lamentation. The aged, brittle roses reminded her of the way she always seemed to feel—frozen in time, waiting for someone to pluck her from her stupor, only to be replaced.

Today the flowers would stay. Lee couldn’t bring herself to destroy their despondent beauty. They could stay one more week. Daniel wouldn’t mind—or at least, she hoped his spirit wouldn’t. In truth, he’d never been one for flowers anyway. If anything, the flowers were more for her, like the wreath in her hands. Curling the velvety red ribbon so it sat perfectly at the center, she laid the circular wreath next to the roses, careful to leave her son’s name legible.

She read each word as she had done a thousand times before. Daniel Edward Llewellyn. Born May 10
th
, 1990. Died December 23, 2010.

The tear trickled down Lee’s cheek, unchecked by time or self-control. She couldn’t imagine a time when the deep pain of those words would leave her unaffected. Yes, they were only words, little letters etched into stone, but they signified so much pain and so many memories. They meant everything to her, just like Daniel.

A car roared to a stop behind her on the drive. Turning from the grave, she glanced back in time to see a man step out of a mud-covered truck. He caught her gaze and dipped his head. Reaching back into the truck, he pulled out a well-worn black cowboy hat and slipped it over his too-long locks.

Though she didn’t recognize the dark-haired man with his stubble-ridden cheeks, flickers of annoyance filled her. He had no right to interfere with her grief and disturb her time with Daniel.

A knot formed in her stomach as the man trudged toward her, as if he was unaware of his intrusion. She tried to get his attention, but the man’s hat sat so low on his forehead, she couldn’t see his eyes. For a moment she considered calling out and telling him to leave her alone in her sadness, but she stopped. It was Christmas. Since he was here on this day, he must have been enduring the same inescapable agony.

The man moved closer; so close it was almost as if he planned to stand next to her, but he kept walking. A strange disappointment took the place of her annoyance.

He stopped at the third headstone past Daniel’s.
Brooke Powers
, Lee recalled. Before she’d picked the plot where her son was laid to rest, she read the headstones of his possible neighbors. If she remembered correctly, Brooke, died at thirty or thereabouts— old enough to keep track of her son’s spirit when Lee couldn’t be there.

Over the last few years, she’d visited the cemetery each week, but only on holidays did she see flowers on Brooke’s headstone. Was this strange cowboy the man who’d brought them? Was he Brooke’s husband? Brother? Thin lines collected around his eyes and a few wrinkles decorated his forehead, but he didn’t look old enough to be the woman’s father.

“Are you going to keep staring at me?” He looked up, catching her off-guard.

“What?” Lee’s heart leapt into her throat and a thin sheen of sweat filled her cold hands.

“People only stare at me when I’m in trouble or about to be. Which is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t know I was staring.”

“I guess I’m about to be,” he answered his own question as his perfect white teeth caught a little ray of winter sun.

“If you are about to be in trouble, than it’s trouble of your own doing,” she retorted.

“That’s funny… That’s what Brooke always said.” He lifted his chin toward the headstone with the granite angel on top.

“Nice headstone,” she said, not quite sure what to say. Grief was a personal thing and, even though he’d brought it up, Lee wasn’t sure she wanted to be drawn into a conversation about the loss of loved ones. It would only cause more pain.

“Thanks. Yours too.”

She glanced down at the little bird by Danny’s name. In truth, her son would have hated it. Her ex-husband picked the bird, and said something to the effect that he and Danny once watched robins together. At the time it seemed wrong to question his memories or his sadness, so the bird had been added to the headstone’s order. Danny would have loved something to do with travel. When he wasn’t working or going to school, he looked for an adventure. If only he’d been more careful.

“You okay?” the man asked.

Reaching up, Lee touched her fingers to her cheek where she found a tear. “I’m fine.”

“I bet.” The man walked over and held out his hand. “By the way, I’m Albert Fox. And I’m fine too.” He gave a tight laugh.

“I’m Lee… Llewellyn.” She slipped her hand in his. His warm fingers circled around her chilled skin.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

His hand lingered for a second too long and she pulled away. “You too.”

“Heck of a way to spend Christmas Eve, eh?”

She gave a weak smile. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with my family.”

“Daniel, was your
only
family?” Albert asked, glancing at the headstone.

“He is my son.” She thought of her ex-husband and her long-deceased parents. “I’m the only one left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

There was an awkward silence as he stared at the grave. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

He couldn’t possibly understand how it felt to have lost her son. He couldn’t understand how it felt to give birth to a child. To hold him the second he entered the world and wait for him to take his first breath. To worry from the second he entered the world and then every second after that.

She thought back to the day Daniel asked her ex to take the training wheels off his bike when he was only three years old. She had been against it, arguing with her husband that it was too much too soon.
He’ll fall
.
We won’t be there to catch him,
she remembered telling him. But he insisted.

They’d spent that night in the ER waiting for Daniel to have his wrist cast.

Then when he’d been eighteen and fresh out of high school Daniel came to them and insisted he wanted to travel the world. He’d asked for the money to fly to England and stay in a hostel. Again, she’d protested. “There’s no way you can travel around Europe with no money, no job. You’ll fall. We won’t be there to catch you
.”

He’d rolled his eyes and thanked his dad for the cash. That night, she and her ex fought, about the money, and how she resented his intrusion. It was the first fight of many that led to the end of their marriage.

The last time she talked to Daniel, he’d told his father and her about his planned kayaking trip down the Lochsa River. “It’s gonna be a great run,” he’d insisted. “Really.”

His dad had been all for it, talking about his glory days and how much Daniel would love the thrill of the ride.

“No, Daniel,” she’d countered. “It’s too dangerous. What happens if you get trapped? You’ll fall.”

“Let me guess,” he’d joked. “No one will be there to catch me.”

It turned out that he’d been right. The water had been too much, too fast. There’d been no one there to help him turn in the turbulent rapids of the river.

Now, even though he was gone, she still worried. The feeling never died.

She glanced over at the grave where Albert stood, as she tried to hold back her tears. “Was she your wife?”

He sighed. The cloud of his breath swirled in the cold winter air like a scrolling measure of pain.

“She was.” He looked at his truck. “I need to go. Someone is waiting for me. Just thought I’d stop by and wish her a Merry Christmas.”

A whisper of jealousy crept up her spine, but she ignored it. She had what she wanted; time with Daniel.

“Merry Christmas, Lee. I hope you get everything your heart desires.”

Chapter Two

How had they gotten into the one conversation that Lee tried to avoid? It was all downhill from there. She kept kicking herself as she made her way to the restaurant. A piece of French Silk pie could cure all that ailed her—or at least she hoped it would.

It had been years since another person—other than her therapist— really talked to her, at least about things that weren’t centered on her job, her divorce, or worse—Daniel. Though they talked about Daniel, Albert didn’t make a point of talking about her son’s death. And there had been something else there. Something made her want to know more about Albert.

She’d been so rude, so stand-offish. It came from years of hiding from her feelings. Years of holding back tears that always threatened to appear out of nowhere and to disappear just as quickly.

She had been self-centered. She’d only focused on her pain. She should have asked him more about his family. More about his Brooke. Maybe he hurt just as bad as she did. Why hadn’t she stopped to consider his feelings and what he must have been going through?

Maybe his talking to her was his way of reaching out. Her therapist talked to her about reaching out, at least a thousand times. Each time she nodded and passed the advice off as hogwash, but what if that was what Albert had been doing?

She could just kick herself.

The parking lot of the restaurant was full. She parked next to a little Mazda. Its backseat was filled with packages wrapped in red paper with green bows and little sprigs of holly for tags. She glanced into her own empty backseat. She hadn’t bought a Christmas present in three years and it would probably be at least a million before she’d buy another one. She had no one left to share a holiday with. No one to share a laugh or a smile.

She was alone.

Alone. Funny how one little word, no, one little
feeling
could encompass it all. Everything she did, everywhere she went. Every word she spoke. It all echoed with that one little word.

For a moment she considered not going into the restaurant.
Party of one
. It would only make her feel the echo more poignantly.

The word hurt. But pie might make it all better—at least for a few minutes. Maybe pie could help her forget the mistakes she’d made with Daniel, her ex, and now Albert.

The door to the restaurant slid shut behind her as she walked to the little wooden podium where the hostess stood.

“Party of one?”

She tried to hold back a cringe, but there was no stopping her response to the woman’s unintentional jibe. “No,” she said, before she could stop herself. “I’m expecting another.”

“Two then. Great,” the hostess said absent-mindedly.

Why did Lee say two? She’d have to pretend to wait. How stupid to lie like that. Now it would look as though she’d been stood up.

The hostess grabbed two menus and led her to a booth near the door. Lee slid into the seat nearest the door and took the offered menu while the hostess set the extra menu on the other side of the table.

If she had been ten years younger and a world away, the whole feeling might have been different. She would have reveled in her little façade and hoped Albert would appear and rescue her.

A smile played on her lips as she thought about the dark-haired cowboy with his devilish charm and roguish grace. She could imagine him walking through the doors behind her and saunter up to her table. He would say all the right things. Make her feel as though she was the only woman in the world.

But no. Life was never that easy.

Someone waited for Albert. There was someone who loved him, who probably laughed at his jokes, and who curled up into his arms in the night. He was nothing more than a fantasy. She was too old for those types of dreams. Life had been too hard to allow her to fall for a dream of a future that would never happen.

She couldn’t feel sorry for herself. She’d already had a great life. It was easy to forget how wonderful her life had once been, while she sat there alone, and stared at the empty green vinyl bench and the lonesome extra menu.

A waiter with a face so fresh it bordered on pre-pubescent, stopped beside her table. “Hey,” the boy said in a monosyllabic grunt. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait?” From the way he stopped short of rolling his eyes, it seemed as though the boy resented being stuck at work on Christmas Eve.

Daniel would have been the same way. He’d always loved Christmas.

“I’ll take a cup of coffee and a piece of French Silk pie.”

The boy turned and looked over at the roll-top glass refrigerator that held wonderfully cheerful cherry pie, peanut butter pie, lemon meringues, and pies covered with light fluffy cloud-like whipped cream. “Hmmm. I think we’re out of French Silk. But we got apple.”

Suddenly, it was as though her world collapsed as she stared at the display of joyful pies. The tears flowed unchecked. She tried to stop the flood of misery, but the harder she attempted to stop, the harder she cried. A heaving sob spilled from her as she looked up at the boy who reminded her of Daniel.

The boy’s eyes were wide as if with fear and confusion. “I’m… I’m sorry, ma’am,,.” he said in an attempt to comfort her, but it was no use. She was past the point of comfort. “I’ll check. Maybe we have a slice in the back.”

Before she could stop him to apologize, the boy retreated from the battle zone of her emotions. She couldn’t do anything right—not order a slice of pie, not stay married, or save Daniel.

Big fat failure. That’s what she was.

Pie couldn’t fix that.

Before the waiter could come back and pretend that he hadn’t just witnessed her meltdown, Lee escaped, whisking past the naïve young hostess and out through the doors. Back to the real world in which she could never seem to escape—no matter how hard she tried.

Lee wiped the tears from her cheeks, and bit at her lip to stop any more but the physical pain only seemed to amplify her emotions. She hurried to her car, careful to keep her gaze away from a couple who brushed past her. No one else needed to see her sorrowful display.

The car door slammed. She sank into the driver’s seat and rested her cheek against the cold steering wheel.

Focus, Lee. You can do this.
The next tear broke through her weak resolve and splashed onto the black plastic wheel.
I can’t even stop myself from crying. How can I continue on like this? I can’t even function. I’m so… alone. How will I survive?

Someone knocked on the window. Her surprised squeal pierced the air inside the car as she jerked back from the wheel.

A little girl stood on the other side of the glass. Her blonde hair was pulled into lop-sided pigtails, and there were smudges of chocolate on the edges of her pudgy candy-pink lips. She was the picture of an angel, and for a moment Lee couldn’t find words; she could only stare at the girl.

“Are you all right? Why are you crying?” The girl’s muted voice twinkled with innocent concern.

Lee found the window button through her tears and lowered the glass. “I’m okay,” she said with a sniff.

“You’re crying.” The girl ran her fingers down her chubby cheeks. “Don’t cry.”

The simple command pulled at Lee’s heartstrings and she dabbed at her eyes, staunching her tears.

“I’m not crying.” Lee gave a thin smile. “Where’s your mommy?” She peered out the window, looking for the precious girl’s mother but they were the only people in the parking lot. Was the girl an angel sent by Daniel?

“My mommy’s an angel,” the girl replied, as she played with the end of her right pigtail.

Lee’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe she wasn’t crazy after all. Maybe Daniel really did send the girl to help her.

“My mommy always told me to make a wish when I am sad,” the girl continued. “My wishes always make me happy. Do you want to make a wish?”

The little angel was real.

“Sure, let’s make a wish.”

The girl smiled. Her childish beauty was a ray of sun. As each second passed between them, Lee’s ice-covered heart warmed and surged with joy.

“Okay, close your eyes,” the girl said, pinching her face into a squished pucker. Her eye- lashes fluttered and through them there was a gleam of the girl’s warm chocolate eyes. “Come on,” she urged. “Close your eyes.”

Lee obliged, but first peeked once more to see the sweet child’s O-shaped mouth and then squeezed her eyes shut. “What should I wish for?”

“Something you want more than anything else.”