Kathleen Creighton - Silhouette Christmas Stories

"Norie, none of it matters anymore. You're free of me and the Hales. If you're so afraid of us, you don't need to be anymore." Slowly he got up. "I'm going. I won't tell Mother. Be happy. You're finally really, truly free of us all."

Norie went to him and put her arms around him. "But you know that's not what I want anymore." She was speaking rapidly, desperately.

At her touch, everything in him went as still as death. He released her gradually, slowly pushing her away, all the time staring into the shadowy depths of her eyes.

"Grant, please-" Her lips barely moved as she whispered.

But he wouldn't let her finish.

"Tell Darius… Tell him, Merry Christmas from me tomorrow, will you? Tell him… maybe next Christmas Santa will do the job right, and he'll get a daddy who'll teach him how to play football. I'm not the right guy."

Then without speaking to her again, Grant turned and strode out of the house, letting the door close behind him on a whisper of icy air.

Tears pooled in Norie's eyes, but she didn't chase after Grant. He had decided to go, and no matter how much she wanted him to stay, she knew that no amount of pleading could persuade him.

The house seemed frigid and empty, as frigid and empty as her own heart.

She heard a slight sound on the stairs, and knew that Darius had not gone to bed after all. He came into the kitchen, his eyes as big and sad as hers. He was dragging his favorite red teddy bear.

"Where's Grant?"

"I don't know."

"Will he come back?"

"I don't know that, either," she admitted.

"But he's my special present from Santa."

She took him into her arms and ruffled his black hair. "Mine, too, darling," she murmured softly.

"Mine, too. But he's your uncle, and you'll see him from time to time."

Darius sat on her lap and sucked his thumb.

"You're a big boy now, Darius. Big boys don't suck their thumbs."

He pulled his thumb out reluctantly. His face was very serious. "I didn't ask for an uncle. I asked for a daddy."

"Well, it isn't Christmas yet. Maybe, just maybe, Santa realized he'd delivered our special present too early. Go back to bed. Santa doesn't come until little boys are asleep."

"Do you really think he'll send Grant back?"

"Maybe, if we both pray very hard."

"Mom, do you really believe in magic?"

Behind them the Christmas tree lights were softly aglow. Grant's ring was still on her finger. His other gifts were still under the tree. Her gaze stole to the manger scene that she and Darius had built together, to the tiny figure of the baby Jesus.

"Yes, in a way," she replied gently. "You see, when it's Christmas, I believe in miracles."

Norie sat up in bed, her heart beating expectantly, not knowing what it was that had awakened her.

And then she knew.

It was Christmas Day.

She fell back against her soft cool pillow in a daze of happiness.

Her bedroom was cozily warm. Someone had come in earlier and lit the space heater. From the kitchen wafted the aroma of coffee and bacon and biscuits. A man's deep husky voice was accompanying a radio that was playing "Joy to the World."

Grant had come back to her as she and Darius had prayed he would.

She listened to Grant sing with her eyes closed, his baritone washing over her, caressing her.

At last she got up, pulled on her robe and stumbled barefoot across the cold floors into the kitchen.

"Grant?" His name was a broken cry across her lips.

His dark gaze smoldered with love for her.

"I thought it was you," she managed to utter dreamily. Then she was flying across the kitchen into his arms. "You did come back."

Tenderly, he enfolded her into his strong arms and lowered his black head to the long pale curve of her beautiful neck. She felt his hands smoothing the snarls from her sleep-tangled, silken curls.

"I had no choice. I know from experience that life without you holds nothing but emptiness. I love you, gypsy girl. I always have and I always will."

"Enough to forgive me?"

His dark eyes moved over her face, and his expression grew momentarily soft. "There's nothing to forgive."

"Last night I was afraid you despised me."

"I was angry. But after I calmed down, I understood why you did what you did."

"I should have told you about Darius years ago. Instead I ran away."

"We drove you away," he said gravely.

"After Larry died and I heard your family saying they didn't want me, I felt completely alone. The only thing I had was my unborn child. When Mike Yanta called and offered me this job, I took it. I came here and made a life for myself, but because I never resolved my conflict with you and your family, there was always something incomplete in my life. You see, I wanted to belong to your family, to be a real Hale, for Darius's sake as well as my own. I knew I was keeping your mother's only grandchild from her. But I was afraid of her, afraid that she might try to dominate my child the way she had dominated Larry. I was afraid she might use her money to alienate Darius from me. But I couldn't forget you, Grant. No matter how hard I tried."

"Mother won't use her money like that again. She knows she made a terrible mistake." Grant's tone grew gentler, lower. "But I was as guilty as she. From the first, I was insensitive to you. To the person you really were. I hurt you. I promise I'll be more careful in the future."

"Oh, Grant… " She could scarcely speak. "My values were so wrong. I was so mixed-up about the power of money that I attached more importance to it than I should have. I should have believed in you, in myself." She winced as she thought of all the hurt she had caused everyone. "I'm always going to wonder what would have happened if I'd been stronger and hadn't run away in the first place."

Grant took her anguished face between his hands and tilted it back. "That's something we'll never know. Maybe we needed these years so we'd know how much we nearly lost."

"And how much we really love each other." She had never dreamed that he loved her so much, that money and its powers no longer could seem frightening.

She pulled away a little from him then, smiling up at him, but he drew her back and kissed her. His hand wrapped around the back of her shoulders. His hard mouth slanted over hers in fierce possession.

A long time later they pulled apart, breathless.

"Darling," he murmured. "How do you think Darius would feel about Santa bringing him a grandmother and a grandfather for Christmas as well as a daddy? You can say no… "

She smiled up at him mistily and placed two fingertips over his mouth. "Hush… I don't want to say no. I want you to call them and invite both of them for Christmas dinner. It's a little late, I know. Georgia usually has so many invitations. They'll have to drive fifty miles."

"They'll come."

Grant sought her lips again. Then he rained hot urgent, kisses over her forehead, her brow, her throat, before stopping to cradle her face in his hands and peer into her eyes.

"It looks like Santa brought all of us a lot more than Darius asked for." Grant kept holding her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say today is the next best thing to a miracle."

"Santa's special miracle," she breathed.

"And mine," Grant said. His dark face grew solemn. "Darling, I-I have a confession to make." For the first time his confidence seemed to desert him.

"If it's about other women… don't… "

"It's even worse than that."

Her black brows arched quizzically.

"It was because of me, that the phone went dead that morning. I tampered with it that night, you see. I had to have you by fair means or foul."

For a long moment, she stared at him in stunned surprise. Then her expression grew radiant. "I guess you were just helping Santa work his miracle."

"I love you," he whispered.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "Let's go upstairs and tell Darius."

The kitchen door by the stairway banged against the wall. "I'm right here, Mom!" Darius shouted exuberantly right before he burst into the room dragging his blanket and his teddy.

Norie put her fingers to her lips.

"I know, Mom. My outdoor voice… " In a softer, more tentative tone, the child whispered, "Right here… Dad."

Grant knelt down and folded the little boy into his arms. "Right here… son." Very gently he lifted him from the ground.

"Are you really going to stay?" Darius demanded eagerly.

"Forever."

Norie drew a deep breath of pure happiness.

"Merry Christmas, Norie," Grant whispered, his blue eyes dazzling bright, as he drew her closer into the warm circle of love.

Holding Darius tightly, Grant bent his head and kissed her.

For me, Christmas is a very special time of family, love and renewal. It is truly a season of miracles.

A beautiful pecan tree hangs over my backyard. I know Christmas is coming when the pecans start falling and the squirrels start racing about collecting them. My mother (who loves fresh pecans nearly as much as the squirrels) uses the nuts to make homemade candy-divinity, pralines, fudge and my Aunt Bill's recipe for carmelized fudge. I use them to make pralines and date-nut fruit cake. I've included the recipe in the front. Now my daughter is old enough to bake cookies for her friends.

With three children in our house, there is always great excitement as Christmas approaches. My two younger children, Kim and Tad, insist on putting up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving. I guess just seeing the tree in the living room is a daily reminder that Christmas is really coming soon. My older son, David, decorates the outside of the house.