'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (20 page)

Yes. Lani and I have waited a very long time to be together.

I’ll miss you.
The words burst out. Mano felt like he wanted to cry. His lips were wiggling, and if they didn’t stop, he’d have to hide his face.

But Mano, I’m only a prayer away. Remember that any time you’re scared or lonely.
Then Mano felt the old man hug him, and all the sadness and fear were gone leaving him feeling lighter than he’d felt since… forever.

Okay, Pi
. He whispered.
I’ll remember.

Once Pi moved away, Mano waved his fingers secretly at the lady, who returned his gesture. Then the lady blew a kiss to Leilani, and as they faded, Mano heard her tell Pi something he didn’t understand.

You kept your promise Piʻilani. Our daughter is finally happy
.

******

Afterword

Thank you so much for reading “
Loveable Christmas Angel
”.

If you enjoyed reading this novel, it would be a very kind gesture for you to leave a short, honest review on Amazon. Authors thoroughly enjoy knowing that readers like their stories. Hopefully, others will read your words and choose to buy the book because of your sentiments and that would be
real
sweet!

Link to review page

TOGETHER FOR CHRISTMAS

Maybe it was the eagerness in her voice, or
maybe just her words, but whatever she said made him laugh. Up till then, he’d seemed like a stranger looking back at her. Then his smile changed everything. Unfortunately, it didn’t last too long. But she’d seen enough to decide then and there that he had a dear face. Not what one would call handsome. More like interesting. She’d bet the full head of messy hair, cut short and worn close to his head, didn’t normally look so scruffy. That wouldn’t be his style at all.

His piercing green eyes didn’t have the same sparkle as his mother’s. They were ruthless and compelling, slightly haughty and intense—the shrewdest stare she’d ever come across. She felt as if he were trying to find her inside him by staring intensely into his own eyes.

“Can you see me?” she teased.

“I do believe I can. I went slightly cross-eyed for a moment, and I have no doubt that was you sneaking a peek.”
When he grinned, dimples appeared on both sides of his mouth and created a whole different impression. This man devastated her with his looks, his charisma.

Unequivocally Abbie knew, at that moment, not only had her spirit joined with his, but also her heart now faced a challenge.

She’d never believed in love at first sight, more fool her. She shut down her corridor to him and curled up into a small ball lodged inside his body. This needed a great deal of thought. She had to talk herself out of this nonsense, and quickly.

~Together for Christmas finaled in the 2012 Gayle Wilson contest~

“Witty, Charming, Entertaining—A Must Holiday Read”

~ Fan of Books

“Really, Really enjoyed this Book. Fantastic Romance”

~ Marie E Price

“Two Hearts Beating as One - I will be reading the rest of the books in the series”

~ Tina R

“A Story to Warm Your Heart”

~ Jo-Anne Carson

I’d like to dedicate this book to

my lovely niece Marnie,

who brings her wonderful family to visit us every Christmas

and makes our holidays so very special.

Chapter One

Bury, England, 1969

“Sweet Jesus!”

Marcus Chapman shot to his feet. He’d thought himself alone when he sat on the bench in front of the old vicarage to analyse his disastrous day.
Must have dozed off
, he decided. The unexpected voice from behind the seat had not only woke him but also scared the hell out of him.

He leaned over the wooden back of the bench and stared down into shaggy bangs skimming over the widest and bluest eyes he’d ever seen. The girl kneeling there winced and tried a grin, which slowly faded when he refused to respond. She bowed her head, her grin changing to a grimace. Gathered on one side in a hair clip, masses of dark hair framed her pink cheeks and sparkled with some of the crystal flakes now steadily falling from the sky.

It was snowing. He looked around, astonished and disbelieving. This wasn’t supposed to be happening today. The radio’s morning report had promised colder temperatures, sure, but no one mentioned snow.
Goes to show why you should hardly ever pay attention to those misinforming blighters.

His eyes felt heavy.
I must have fallen asleep
. When he’d first sat down, the sky had been overcast, and there had been a definite chill in the air. Now, however, fluffy flakes of white clung to branches like bits of tattered lace and had already covered most surfaces, including himself. Shivers attacked, and he lowered his body back onto the bench and wrapped his arms around his wet clothes. Heavy as his leather jacket was, when damp it didn’t come close to warming him in the icy weather.

The girl’s slight figure rose from behind the bench and stood, leaning toward him. “Sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“What are you doing skulking behind this bench on your hands and knees? Are you hiding from someone?” With his teeth clacking, he sounded a bit comical.

She giggled, obviously thinking he was joking with her. He noticed she stopped when he didn’t join in her merriment. At least she ended the annoying racket, but the devilment in her eyes spoke for itself. What a strange creature!

“I don’t wish to intrude, but I’m trying to cover these rose bushes. I’m worried I didn’t cut them short enough last fall when I trimmed them. I couldn’t bear it if the weight of all this snow damaged their branches.”

“It wasn’t supposed to snow.” His remark sounded petulant, but, dammit, snow hadn’t been on the weather report. If he remembered correctly, they’d promised rain. In fact, he was sure of it, because he’d suffered a small twinge of remorse for his mother, who now lived with him—only until the repairs on her place were done, and not a minute longer. She’d been blathering on about a white Christmas for days.

He looked upward. “How long has it been falling?” The flakes were coming down so thickly it was difficult to see even as far as the vicarage, close by.

“Blimey. It’s been snowing steady for almost an hour, and it’s gotten thicker as the time’s passed. I’ve been going bonkers wondering whether to wake you or not. I knew you weren’t dead, from the noise you were making. But when I saw the roses being overloaded I realized I had to wrap them or take the chance on them dying from the cold.”

She crouched down again and surveyed the area. Her short coat rode up and the hem of an even shorter skirt appeared, showing her well-formed legs in dark stockings and surprisingly large rubber boots. Silly girl will freeze in that outfit, he thought, before her voice grabbed his attention once again.

“Look here, I don’t wish to annoy, but do you think you could help me with these sacks? Oops.” She put her finger into her mouth, obviously having been pricked by one of the vicious thorns adorning the branches.

Her voice had a mesmerizing quality and, before he knew he intended to, he came around and reached for the side of the bag she held out to him. Again she smiled, and he watched as the rest of her face joined her lips to produce such a happy expression that he studied it bemusedly. She looked childlike, crouched so small, but he knew by her manner that she must have left school behind some time ago. A clearing of her throat and waving of the bag made him realize she still waited.

“Sorry.” He spread out the edges she’d passed his way and leaned down to do his part.

“You’re a good chap to help me. I appreciate it.”

He could drown in the softness of her eyes. Still lost in what he’d seen there, he didn’t pay attention. When she tugged on her end of the bag, he lost his balance. To keep from falling, he put out his hand, and it landed, palm down, on the closest bush. At first only the sting of the thorn piercing his skin registered. But then the girl’s soft cry, hinting at a problem, caught his attention.

Dizziness, the first impression he noticed, prevailed and plunked him butt first into the snow. Then, befuddled, he watched as the girl across from him sighed, collapsed, and rolled over in what looked like a faint.

What the hell?
Breathe, you idiot, think and breathe. Stop this foolishness. Get to the girl. Call for help.

His legs wouldn’t hold him.
Right. Crawl, then, don’t even try to stand.
Orders from a fuzzy brain rang in his head. Muddled and angry, he tried to force his body to obey the instructions, but it didn’t work. Consciousness receded. A rushing sound overtook him and slammed him further from reality. Nausea attacked. His vision blurred. This time when he fell, he landed smack-dab on top of her.

After a few moments, life surged back into his frozen limbs. He opened his eyes and looked at the unmoving form under him. It took all his strength to roll over and another few seconds before he inched away. His rioting pulse slowed and erratic breathing returned to normal.

Struggling for coordination, he edged closer to the girl, loosened the blue silk scarf at her neck, and felt for a pulse. The beats seemed strong and normal, but when he checked her pupils—something he’d seen the doctors do on TV—there was no sign of life. The annoying ringing in his head continued until it crescendoed and then stopped. Eerie as it seemed, he blessed the quiet. His strength returned, and so did his equilibrium.