Marry Me under the Mistletoe. Rebecca Winters

costs too much,” he said and pulled the credit card from his wallet to pay for the elves.

      “I wish I could look at it.” Tears welled in her eyes. If he had a dollar for every time she wished she could have something...

      The clerk ringing up the sale took one look at those eyes and said, “Stay right there and I’ll bring it to you.” After handing him back his card and purchase, she walked around the counter and hurried over to the display window to pluck the gingerbread man and rocking chair from the case.

      Good grief. His daughter was a little manipulator, a talent she’d learned from his deceased wife, who’d been indulged in turn by her own well-meaning parents, especially her mother, Nancy. He’d loved his wife and they’d had a good marriage, but she’d been high maintenance, which had caused minor strains and at times a few major ones. Rick was determined his daughter would learn she couldn’t have everything she wanted.

      When the clerk walked over to them, he became aware of her enticing fragrance, a light floral one. “If you’ll sit down, you can hold him.”

      Rick wished she hadn’t gone to the trouble, but it was too late now.

      “Oh—” Tessa crooned after taking it in her arms. His daughter’s happiness almost blinded him. “He’s so cute.” In a perfectly natural gesture, she kissed the cheeks just the way a mother would kiss her baby. Then she held it tight and with eyes closed started rocking.

      The sight caused Rick’s throat to swell. He was in luck. Only the first day of shopping to get an idea of what Tessa wanted and already he knew this would be the present Santa left under the tree. When he got home, he would ask his housekeeper to come in and buy it for him so it could be a surprise.

      “We have to leave now, Tessa. We’ve got more shopping to do before I take you to kindergarten. Thank the nice lady for letting you hold him.”

      Tessa stared at the saleswoman. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      He helped her off the chair and set the gingerbread man inside it.

      Tessa’s lower lip trembled. “Can’t I have him, Daddy?”

      “I’m afraid not.”

      “Please?”

      “Tessa—that’s enough.”

      “I’ll sell it to you at half price,” the woman said under her breath. He lifted his head and found himself gazing into the sapphire-blue eyes that had unexpectedly caught his attention through the display window.

      “Thank you, but no.”

      On cue his daughter broke into tears. The clerk bent over her. “Have you written to Santa Claus yet?”

      “Yes. My grandma helped me, b-but I didn’t ask for the gingerbread man.” Her voice wobbled.

      “I’m sure your father will help you write another letter and ask Santa to bring you a gingerbread man.” She flicked him a hopeful glance as she said it.

      “This one?” Tessa pointed to the chair.

      “Yes.”

      Rick blinked. Yes? The clerk’s no doubt well-meaning intervention irritated the hell out of him. Worse, she’d played right into his daughter’s hands.

      Tessa sniffed. “Do you think Santa will know that my gingerbread man is in this store?”

      An impish smile broke the corner of the clerk’s mouth, drawing his unwilling attention to its provocative shape. “Yes.”

      “Promise?”

      “I promise.”

      “Come on, Tessa.” He picked up his daughter, who still wasn’t in control of her tears.

      “Have a merry Christmas!” The woman just kept it up.

      Rick flashed her a brief glance. “Merry Christmas. Thank you for indulging her.” With his daughter in one arm and his package in the other, he left the shop in a few long, swift strides.

      * * *

      Was that a little sarcasm Andrea had heard?

      She bristled, realizing that he hadn’t wanted his daughter indulged and didn’t appreciate in the least what Andrea had done.

      But maybe he couldn’t afford it because he was out of work. He had told his daughter it cost too much. If that was the case, then she felt bad for putting him on the spot, and she decided she would grant his little girl her wish by Christmas.

      Andrea knew exactly where to send the gingerbread man and the chair. The credit card listed him as Richard Jenner on Rose Drive in Elmhurst, a nice neighborhood. It was Christmas, a time for giving.

      This could be her own little sub-for-Santa project. Every year at the church they had a list of families who needed help, and everyone who could contribute did so. This was one time when Andrea knew her present would bring happiness.

      Picking up one of the big floppy elves, she took him over by the tree and put him in place of the gingerbread man and the rocker. Those items she took up the back stairs to the loft. Once she got everything gift wrapped and packed, then she’d send it to the Jenner residence. On the outside of the box she’d print “To Tessa from Santa.”

      With that accomplished she went back downstairs to face a steady stream of customers until her mother arrived so she could leave for Barrow’s Lake.

      During the late-afternoon drive her mind played over the incident in the store. What she’d give to have a child she could indulge. With those cherubic features, Tessa Jenner was absolutely adorable.

      When she reached the Gingerbread Inn, she saw the state it was in and realized that Casey’s email hadn’t exaggerated. Despite some cosmetic fix-ups by Emily and her husband, Cole Watson, it was obvious the Gingerbread Inn had fallen on hard times. Despite all the inn owner’s big dreams, Carol Parsons had lost her husband and couldn’t keep everything going anymore.

      In the kitchen, the heart of the once-fabulous two-story Georgian inn, Andrea looked around. Everything needed refurbishing. She longed to get rid of the dilapidated sunflower wallpaper and worn white vinyl flooring and make it all fresh again.

      But Andrea was grateful for one thing that hadn’t changed. She and Casey, her exotic-looking friend with the dark wild hair, were sitting at the very same long maple table where the girls had enjoyed many a meal day or night in past summers.

      “Do you two want another cup of cocoa?”

      Andrea jumped up from the chair and gave Carol another hug. The tiny gray-haired widow and sole owner was in her fifties and still looked great wearing a pale blue T-shirt and jeans. Best of all, she had a heart as big as the outdoors.

      To the amusement of all, Harper, the golden retriever of uncertain mix, ran around sniffing everyone, hoping for crumbs from Carol’s homemade coffee cake fresh from the oven.

      “Don’t you know you’ve done enough? It’s after midnight. You should be in bed. Casey and I will be headed there ourselves pretty soon.”

      “No, you won’t.” She laughed. “I know you girls. Once you get talking, there’s no stopping you. Since you have to get back to Providence tomorrow, I’m going to leave you two alone so you can catch up. In the morning I’ll make scones.”

      “Those are to die for,” the girls said in a collective voice.

      Carol laughed. “Come on, Harper.” The dog made a yapping sound and scrambled out the door after her.

      Andrea and Casey were finally alone, surrounded by six empty chairs. One of them would never see Melissa again. Once upon a time they’d been filled with people and laughter and great happiness. Andrea wondered if she’d ever know real happiness again. Her hurt went so deep she couldn’t fathom experiencing it again, let alone joy.