A Christmas Miracle for Daisy (Taming of the Sheenans Book 5) (18 page)

“Of all Santas, or just this one?”

“This one. He’s…a little too slick.”

“Slick? He’s not all slick. He’s down to earth and kind and charming—”

“I know you’re a fan. That doesn’t mean I have to be.”

“He really is lovely, Cormac. I’m quite fond of him. Don’t be mean.”

His frown deepened. “I’m not
trying
to be mean. I just don’t want to see Daisy hurt.”

“Why would she be hurt?”

“Because she believes in Santa’s goodness and all of his magic, certain that he’s going to bring her exactly what she’s asked him for.” He groaned beneath his breath. “And that’s never happened before.”

“What?” she asked, not certain she’d heard him correctly.

“She’s never asked Santa for anything before.”

“Never…ever? Not even when you’d take her to see him for photos and all that?”

He shook his head. “No. She’d just sit there on his lap and get her picture taken. She’d be so serious, barely smiling—” he broke off, brow furrowing, lips compressed.

For a moment he didn’t continue, his pensive gaze fixed on Daisy who was wiggling in line with her friend from preschool, each trying different dance moves. “I just don’t want her hurt. I don’t want her disappointed. She’s finally asked Santa for something…but I don’t know what it is. She won’t tell me. She says Santa knows and Santa’s going to bring it to her. But how can Santa deliver if I don’t know what it is?”

For a split second she thought he was joking—this was ruthless Cormac Sheenan after all—but when his gaze settled on Daisy again and his hard expression softened, Whitney understood.

He didn’t want to let her down. He was genuinely worried about fulfilling Daisy’s Christmas wish.

“Christmas is still weeks away. I’m sure she’ll tell you.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll find out for you.”

“You think you could?”

“Of course.”

“How?”

“I’m a girl. We girls love to talk and share secrets.”

*

By the middle
of the next week, things were progressing so well at the Crookshank Building that Whitney was able to spend a few days at her desk, focusing on her primary job—the
magazines
.

She was happy to be back doing what she did best. It was stimulating and yet familiar. After checking in with Jeff, she read reports, Skyped with her team back in Denver, going over the magazine budgets and layouts, talking future issues, and reminding the staff that soon she wouldn’t be there, that everything they were discussing could and would change, and that everyone in the publishing group needed to be prepared for change.

Which made her wonder, who would be taking over her job? Was Jeff in charge of replacing her, or did Cormac have someone in mind?

When Cormac dropped by her office just after lunch on Wednesday, she was on the phone talking with the Senior Editor of
Big Sky Bridal
and trying to help handle an advertiser problem with the May/June issue before it turned into a full-blown crisis that impacted all of the Sheenan publications.

She waved Cormac into her office and he took a seat across from her and waited while she ended the call.

“Calm under fire,” he said. “You’re good.”

“Don’t say that yet. We will have to see how this resolves.”

“If you’re handling the problem, it’ll work out. It always does.”

“You have such confidence.”

“In you. I don’t think you’ve ever let me down.”

She inhaled hard, feeling a pinch of emotion that she didn’t want to feel. Not here, not while working with him.

“I have a situation, too. I need to jump on a plane to LA today, be there for a meeting in the morning.”

“Go.”

He hesitated. “I’m worried about Daisy. I’m not comfortable having her stay at Trey and McKenna’s yet.”

“What about with Troy and Taylor? I’d think they’d be great with her.”

“Everyone would be wonderful with her. It’s Daisy I’m concerned about. She doesn’t handle change well. She doesn’t need the upheaval.” He hesitated. “Would you be willing to stay with her? She adores you and is comfortable with you, and I know she’d be safe with you.”

Whitney blinked, surprised, not just by the favor, but by his trust. “Of course I’d stay with her.”

“The hotel room service has cleaned the suite already. The bed has fresh sheets—”

“I’m not worried about your sheets.”

He smiled reluctantly. “I’d leave this afternoon. Catch the five o’clock flight out.”

“Would I need to pick Daisy up from preschool?”

He nodded. “She goes to after school care and you’d just sign her out. I’ve already given them your name.”

“You were that confident I’d say yes?”

He shrugged. “You’ve never let me down.”

*

Whitney was woken
in the middle of the night by Daisy’s cry. She jumped from bed and stumbled in the dark to Daisy’s roll away, leaning over the bed to comfort Daisy. The little girl’s eyes were closed but she was crying and thrashing, legs and arms restlessly moving.

“Ssssh, it’s okay,” Whitney whispered, rubbing her back, trying to calm her. “It’s okay, Daisy. It’s just a dream.”

She sat by Daisy’s side, rubbing her back until the girl fell back asleep.

It took Whitney much longer to fall asleep again, wondering how often Daisy had bad dreams and how Cormac normally handled them.

*

The next morning
when Cormac called to check on Daisy, Whitney asked him about the nightmares.

“Did she have another one last night?” he replied.

“Yes. She was really upset, kicking and fighting.”

He sighed. “This is new. I mean, it’s new since the school incident. She’d never had dreams like this before.”

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“She doesn’t want to talk about what happened at school, and she doesn’t seem to remember the dreams the next day. But it’s clearly upsetting.”

“Have you thought about getting her in to see someone? A doctor or counselor?”

“She doesn’t need a shrink.”

“The right person, a child psychologist, for example, would know how to talk to her about it—”

“No. I don’t trust shrinks. They’re in business to make money. And they’ll suggest she take some kind of pill and I’m not going to do that to her.”

“That’s a little bit ignorant.”

“I appreciate that you’re concerned, Whitney,” he retorted sharply, “but she’s my daughter, and I’m not going to have her medicated or confused by some stranger filling her head with stuff. She’s a child. She needs stability and routine, and that’s what I’m determined to give her. So tell her I’ll try my best to get out of here tonight, and hope to be there when she wakes in the morning.”

*

But it began
to snow that afternoon, and once it started, it didn’t stop. The snow came down in a blinding white sheet and flights were cancelled. School was even let out early to allow the school bus to get kids home before the roads became too dangerous.

Whitney was happy to spend another night with Daisy. She walked to the school and checked Daisy out and they danced their way from Church Street back to the Graff.

Daisy kept tipping her head back and sticking out her tongue to catch the snowflakes and Whitney laughed as Daisy kept swallowing them going “yum.”

Yum, indeed, Whitney thought, hopping up the hotel steps hand in hand with the four-year-old. This was pretty magical. Daisy’s delight made the world feel sparkly and new.

As the doorman opened the door for them, Daisy tugged on Whitney’s hand. “Let’s go say hi to Santa.”

She brushed stray flakes from Daisy’s nose and cheek. “Is he here? I didn’t think he worked until the evening.”

“He always comes just before dinner time. Is it almost dinner time?”

And then as if magic, he was there, blowing into the hotel with a gust of wind and snow, white gloved hands tucked into his wide black belt, laughing and ho-ho-hoing.

“I told you!” Daisy sang, dashing to fling herself at Kris.

Kris gave her a great big hug back.

Whitney watched them, smiling, wishing childhood could last forever. And then Daisy was skipping back and flashed her candy cane. “He remembers me every time,” she said happily.

“Of course. Santa loves you.”

“I know. And he’s really going to help me with my Christmas wish.”

Daisy had her full attention now. “What have you asked Santa for this year?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a secret surprise.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“But if I tell you it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

Whitney watched Kris walk to his big gold chair with children trailing not far behind. “Is it something he will make in his toy workshop?” she asked.

“I
can’t
tell you,” Daisy said firmly. “It’s a surprise.”

Whitney was beginning to understand Cormac’s concern. “And Santa said he can bring this?”

“He said he’s working on it, so that means yes.”

*

Whitney gave Daisy
a bath and got her in warm pajamas and then they colored in Daisy’s Princess Sofia coloring book while waiting for room service to bring up Daisy’s macaroni and cheese.

Having finished her coloring in Sofia’s skirt and shoes, Whitney began doodling in the margins, drawing pictures of miniature Christmas trees and snowmen and snowflakes.