On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (13 page)

“Want to meet in the park at midnight?” she asked.

Thom chuckled. “I'm a little old to be sneaking around to meet my girlfriend.”

“That didn't stop you from climbing in my bedroom window last night.”

True, but his need to see her had overwhelmed his caution, not to mention his good sense.

“I love you, Noelle.” There, he'd said it. He'd placed his heart in her hands, to accept or reject.

Tears glistened in her eyes. “I love you, too—I never stopped loving you.”

“Even when you hated me?”

She laughed shakily. “Even then.”

December 23
11:00 a.m.

I feel as if I'm on an emotional roller coaster. One moment I'm feeling as low as I can get, and the next I'm soaring into the clouds. Just now, I'm in the cloud phase. Thom found the picture of the tea set! We're determined to locate one as close to the original as possible. As I said to Thom, I'm hoping for a Christmas miracle. (I never knew I was such a romantic.) Normally I scoff at things like miracles, but that's what both Thom and I need. We've already had one miracle—we have each other back.

Before we parted this morning, Thom said he loved me. I love him, too. l've always loved Thom, and that's what made his deception—or what I believed was his deception—so terribly painful.

Now all we've got to do is keep our mothers out of the picture until we can replace the tea service. I know it's a challenging task, but we're up to it.

As of right now, we each have our assignments. Carley's using the computer for ten more minutes and then it's all mine. My job is to scan in the picture he found at his parents' house and send it to as many online antique dealers as I can. Thom is off check
ing local dealers and has some errands to run. We're going to meet up again later.

I had to cancel a lunch date with Kristen and Jonathan, but my sister understood. She's excited about Thom and me getting back together. Apparently she's had more of a hand in this than I realized. I really owe her.

Finding a tea service to replace the one that was stolen is turning out to be even harder than I expected—but we have to try. I believe in miracles. I was a doubter less than a week ago, but now I'm convinced.

“H
ow many turkeys did you say we had to buy?”

“Six,” Mary said, checking the list to make sure she was correct. December twenty-third, and the grocery store was a nightmare. The aisles were crowded, and many of the shelves needed restocking. The last thing Mary wanted to do was fight the Christmas rush, but that couldn't be helped. Next year, she'd leave the filling of these Christmas baskets to someone else.

“Get six bags of potatoes while you're at it,” she told her husband as they rolled past a stack of ten-pound bags.

“Getting a little bossy, aren't you?” Greg muttered.

“Sorry, it's just that there are a hundred other things I'd rather be doing right now.”

“Then you should've given the task to Sarah McDowell. Didn't you tell me she offered?”

Mary didn't want to hear the other woman's name. “I don't trust her to see that it's done properly.”

“Don't you think you're being a little harsh?”

“No.” That should be plain enough. The more she thought about her last encounter with Sarah McDowell, the more she realized how glad she'd be when they'd completed this project. “Being around Sarah has dredged up a whole slew of bad memories,” she informed her husband.

Greg dutifully loaded sixty pounds of potatoes into the cart. As soon as he'd finished, Mary headed down the next aisle.

“My Christmas has been ruined,” she said through gritted teeth.

“How's that?”

“Greg, don't be obtuse.” She reached for several cans of evaporated milk and added them to the food piled high in their cart. “I've had to deal with
her
.”

“Yes, but—”

“Never mind,” Mary said, cutting him off. She didn't expect Greg to understand. Her husband had never really grasped the sense of loss she'd felt when Sarah destroyed their friendship with her deception. The silver tea service was irreplaceable; so was the friendship its disappearance had shattered.

“Hello, Mary.” Jean Cummings, a friend who edited the society page, pulled her cart alongside Mary's. “Merry Christmas, Greg.”

Her husband had the look of a deer caught in the headlights. He no more knew who Jean was than he would a stranger, although he'd attended numerous social functions with the woman.

“You remember Jean, don't you?” she said, hoping to prompt his memory.

“Of course,” he lied. “Good to see you again.”

“It looks like you're feeding a big crowd,” Jean said, surveying the contents of Mary's cart.

Mary didn't bother to explain about the Christmas baskets. “Is your family coming for the holidays?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, and yours too, I imagine?”

“Of course.” Mary was eager to get about her business. She didn't have time to dillydally. As soon as she was finished with the shopping, she could go back to planning her own family's Christmas dinner. Greg would need to order the fresh Dungeness crabs they always had on Christmas Eve; he could do that while they were here.

“Tell me,” Jean said, leaning close to Mary and talking in a stage whisper. “Am I going to get the scoop on Thom?”

“Thom?” Mary didn't know what she was talking about.

“I saw him just now in Mendleson's.”

It was well known that the jeweler specialized in engagement rings.

“Thom's one of the most eligible bachelors in town. I know plenty of hearts will be broken when he finally chooses a bride.”

Mary was speechless. She'd had lunch with her son on Friday and although he'd hinted, he certainly hadn't said anything that suggested he was on the verge of proposing. She didn't even know who he was currently seeing.

“I'm sure Thom would prefer to do his own announcing,” Greg said coolly, answering for Mary.

“Oh, drat,” Jean muttered. “I was hoping you'd let the cat out of the bag.”

“My lips are sealed,” Mary said, recovering. “Have a wonderful Christmas.”

“You, too.” Jean pushed her cart past them.

As soon as the society page editor was out of earshot, Mary gripped her husband's forearm. “Has Thom spoken to you lately?”

“This morning,” Greg told her. “But he didn't say anything about getting engaged.”

“Who could it be?” Mary cried, aghast that she was so completely in the dark. As his mother, she should know these things.

“If he was serious about any woman, we'd know.”

Mary wasn't buying it.

“Let's not leap to conclusions just because our son happened to walk into a certain jewelry store. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical reason Thom was in Mendleson's and I'll bet it hasn't got a thing to do with buying an engagement ring.”

“This is all Sarah's fault,” she murmured.

Her husband looked at her as though she were speaking in a foreign language.

“I mean it, Greg. I've been so preoccupied with the whole mess Sarah's created about these baskets, I haven't had time to pay attention to my son. Why, just on Friday when we had lunch…” Suddenly disheartened, Mary let her words fade.

“What's wrong?” Greg asked.

All the combativeness went out of her. “I can't blame Sarah entirely—I played a role in this, too.”

“What role?”

Once again, she was amazed by her husband's obliviousness. “This business with Thom. Now that I think about it, I'm convinced he wanted to talk over his engagement with me, only I was so rattled by the Value-X incident I didn't give him a chance. Oh, Greg, how could I have been so self-absorbed?”

“What makes you think he was going to tell you he was getting engaged? Why don't we call and ask him when we get home?” Greg suggested.

“And let him think we're interfering in his life? We can't do that!”

“Why not?”

“We'd ruin his surprise, if indeed there is one.”

Greg merely sighed as they wheeled the cart to the checkout counter.

Ten minutes later, once everything was safely inside the trunk, Mary turned to him. “I just don't know what I'll do if
she's
the one he's interested in. I couldn't stand it if he married into
that
family.”

“I don't think we need to worry about it,” he told her as they started back to the house. “There's no evidence whatsoever.”

“He
danced
with Noelle McDowell!”

“He danced with lots of girls.”

The engine made a coughing sound as they approached the first intersection. “What's that?” Mary asked.

“It's time for an oil change,” her husband said. “I'll have the car looked at after the holidays.”

She nodded. She trusted the upkeep of their vehicles to her husband and immediately put the thought out of her mind. Car troubles were minor in the greater scheme of things.

 

By the end of the day, when clouds thickened the sky and the cold swept in, fierce and chilling, Thom finally had to admit that replacing the silver tea service wasn't going to be easy.

He'd tried everything he could think of, called friends and associates who might know where he could find an antique dealer who specialized in silver—anyone who might lead him to his prize. Far more than a gift lay in the balance. It was possible that his and Noelle's entire future hinged on this.

At seven, after an exhaustive all-day search, he went home. The first thing he did was check his answering machine, hoping to hear from Noelle. Sure enough, the message light was flashing. Without waiting to remove his coat, he pushed the button and grabbed paper and a pen.

A female voice, high and excited, spilled out. “It's Carley Sue. Remember me? I'm Noelle's sister. Anyway, Noelle asked me to call you. She'd call you herself, but I asked if I could do it, 'cause it was my bedroom window you knocked on. And my computer Noelle used.”

Thom laughed out loud, almost missing the second half of the message.

“Anyway, Noelle wanted to know if you could meet her at the park tomorrow morning. She said you should be there early. She said six o'clock 'cause you have to drive all the way to Portland. She said you'd know why, but she wouldn't tell me. When you see Noelle, please tell her it's not nice to keep secrets from her sister, will you?” She giggled. “Never mind, I could get it out of her if I really wanted to. Bye.”

Thom smiled, feeling a surge of energy. Obviously Noelle had had better luck than he did.

A second message followed the first.

“Thom, it's me. I wasn't sure Carley got the entire message to you. When we meet at the park, come with a full tank of gas. If this conflicts with your Christmas Eve plans, call me on my cell phone.” There was a short pause. “I don't want you to get your hopes up. I found a tea service that's not
exactly
like your grandmother's, but I'm looking for a Christmas miracle. We'll need to compare it to the picture. The dealer's only keeping his store open until noon, which is why we need to leave here so early. I'm sorry I can't see you tonight. I wish I could, but I've got family obligations. I know you understand.”

He did understand—all too well. A third message started; he was certainly popular today. It was his mother and she sounded worried.

“It's Mom…I ran into a friend from the newspaper this morning and she mentioned seeing you at Mendleson Jewelers. Were you…buying an engagement ring? Thom, it
isn't that McDowell girl, is it? Call me, will you? I need reassurance that you're not about to make a big mistake.”

This was what happened when you lived in a small town. Everyone knew your business. So, his mother had heard, and even with the wrong facts, she'd put together the right answer. Yes, he'd been at Mendleson's. And yes, it
was
“that McDowell girl.”

Thom decided he had to talk about all of this with someone who understood the situation and knew all the people involved. Someone discreet, who had his best interests at heart. Someone with no agenda, hidden or otherwise.

The one person he could trust was his older sister. Suzanne was three years his senior, married and living ten miles outside of town; she and her husband, Rob, owned a hazelnut orchard. Thom didn't see Suzanne often, but he was godfather to his five-year-old nephew, Cameron.

A brief phone call assured him that his sister was available and eager to see him. Off he went, grabbing a chunk of cheese and an apple to eat on the way. Maybe his sister would have some wisdom to share with him…. How quickly life can change, he mused, and never more so than at Christmas.

Suzanne had a mug of hot cider waiting when he arrived. Rob was out, dealing with some late deliveries. His family owned the orchard and leased it to him. Rob worked long hours making a success of their business, and so did Suzanne. Both his sister and brother-in-law were honest, hardworking people, and he trusted their advice.

“This is a surprise,” Suzanne said, pulling out a chair at the large oak table in the center of her country kitchen.

“Cameron's in bed already?” Thom asked, disappointed to miss seeing his nephew.

“He thinks if he goes to bed early Santa will come sooner.” She gave a shrug. “Never mind that this is only the twenty-third. I guess he's hoping he can make time
speed up,” she said with a smile. “By the way, he had a ridiculous tale about you and some woman at the movies the other day. Throwing popcorn was a big theme in this story.”

“I don't know what he told you, but more than likely it's true. We bumped into Noelle McDowell and her little sister at the theater.”

“Noelle. Oh, no.” Suzanne was instantly sympathetic. “That must've been uncomfortable.”

“Yes and no.” He hesitated, wondering to what extent his sister's attitude was a reflection of their parents'. “It was difficult at first, because we didn't exactly part on the best of terms.”

“At first?”

His sister had picked up on that fast enough. “We've talked since and resolved our difficulties.”

“Resolved them, did you?” Suzanne raised her eyebrows.

“I love Noelle.” There, he'd said it.

“Who's Noelle?” Rob asked as he walked in through the kitchen door, shedding hat, scarf and gloves.

“I'll explain later,” Suzanne promised, ladling a cup of cider from the pot on the stove. “Here, honey.”

“Our families don't get along,” Thom explained.

“Do Mom and Dad know?” his sister asked.

“Not yet, but Mom got wind of me going to Mendleson's. She must have her suspicions, since she left a message on my machine practically begging me to tell her I'm not seeing Noelle.”

“Did you buy a ring?”