Christmas Wishes (6 page)

T
he sun shone
brightly into her east-facing window, and Sophie didn’t need to turn on the bedside lamp to write her to-do list. The first thing, as always, was to work on her script. The one that would make her an in-demand scriptwriter for a prime-time drama. Or comedy. She had the outlines for some of each. She just needed to finish them to have in her portfolio. Production companies didn’t buy scripts, she’d learned, but if they liked things you had written they would hire you to write scripts for their shows. All she had to do was finish them.

Second on her list was to brainstorm ideas for the Christmas play. She had her list of needs from the Wednesday night rehearsal. Joanie had come up with some new ideas, and she’d found some others in an Internet search.

She paused before writing the third item. It had been weeks since she’d gotten some exercise. The weather forecast for the day was bright clear skies. Maybe she could get some cross-country skiing in. She could do that first thing, before her sister made plans that included her. It was Saturday, so Dave would be around if Joanie needed anything.

After putting
Exercise
at the top of her list, she hopped up and dug through her wardrobe for some warm clothing. She couldn't remember the last time she’d gone skiing, but the woods around the house were perfect — and she knew the area like the back of her hand. She’d have her cell phone with her in case she ran into problems.

Opening the storage closet, she checked her ski equipment. Still looked good, despite being packed away for a few years.

She got dressed and went downstairs for her daily coffee. Joanie sat on the couch, working on yet another knitting project. This one was a sweater in a bubble-gum pink color.

“New sweater?”

Joanie looked up and smiled. “Yup. This little sweetie is going to need lots of warm stuff, arriving in December.” Her hands paused and she frowned. “I’m hoping it’s not until December, but Joey was two weeks early, and the doctor is saying it could be any time.” She sighed. “I get so bored not doing anything but sitting here knitting — or cross-stitching, or reading. My scrapbooking is caught up. New baby has two sweaters and two afghans. I’ve made scarves and hats for everyone in the family. I know the longer the baby stays in, the better, but part of me can’t wait for her to be born.”

Sophie reached over and gave her sister a hug. “I know it’s hard for you to sit still when you’ve always been active. The teachers in school had a hard time believing I was your sister because we were so different.”

They shared a laugh.

“I thought I’d try out my cross-country skis. It looks like a good day to be outside,” Sophie told her.

“I wish I could join you. Have fun.”

“Will you be okay if I take off for a while?”

“Sure. Dave just went in to the office. He said he’d be back before lunch. Joey spent the night at his friend’s house, so you don’t have to worry about him.”

Sophie finished her breakfast then went up to get her equipment. She was out the door in no time.

Recent snows had covered the area with a thick blanket of white, and she took some time to simply take in the sight before pushing off on the trail. Soon she was back into a smooth groove, pushing with her poles, gliding with each foot, and she entered the woods.

This had been her refuge back in her junior high school days. It had been an awkward time in her life when Joanie was the Belle of Zutphen and she was the gangly younger sister. She’d despaired of ever attracting a boy. But the woods had been her friend. Whether it was skiing through them in the winter or hiking through them in the summer, she’d always felt better there. Even during her college years she would often come home on her weekends to unwind among the trees.

Skiing over the trail in the winter was so much quieter. Smaller, furry creatures were safely tucked into their winter homes, From above, a family of finches welcomed her. The sunlight, peeking between the bare branches, cast a lacy pattern on the forest floor. Yes, driving on ice was a bother, but the artistry of the winter landscape made up for it, in her mind.

Before she knew it, she had glided her way through the woods and came out on the other side. Into Mitch’s back yard. And the man was outside, practicing his craft.
Mitch knelt, his right elbow propped on his knee, his left hand holding the camera to his eye. Sophie took a breath, ready to call a greeting, but paused when she realized what he was shooting.

Two white-tailed deer stood at the edge of the woods. Sophie knew if she called out, she’d scare them away and Mitch’s shot would be ruined. She stood still until the pair went back into the woods and he rose from his crouch. Curious about the photos he’d taken, she glided toward him. Her poles crunched, and he turned to her with a welcoming smile.

“Did you get the shot?” she called.

He stood and nodded. “I think so.” He turn
ed the LCD screen on and scrolled through his pictures, showing her. The close-ups showed the gentleness of the beautiful creatures, and the landscape shots were breathtaking.

“They’re great. These would make great prints for a den.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll send one or two to some nature magazines and see if they’re interested.” He looked up at her and frowned. “Did you ski here from Joanie and Dave’s house?”

“Yes. The trail goes through the woods from their back yard and comes out here. I needed some fresh air, and today was the perfect day to get outside.”

“Sounds like fun. Can I offer you a cup of coffee and a warm kitchen before you head back?”

“Sure. Thanks.” She followed him inside after propping her skis by the back door.

The neatness of the house was the first thing to catch her attention. There was a place for everything, and every surface was spotless. Did he have a housekeeper? She watched as Mitch efficiently fixed a cup of coffee in his single-cup brewer, putting everything away as soon as he used it. No, the man did not need a housekeeper. Every woman’s dream. Frustrated by her train of thought, she realized the house was quiet — too quiet for a home with a little girl.

“Where’s Angie?”

“She spent the night at a friend’s. Carley, from her class at school.”

“Carley Jones?”

“Yes, that’s her. Do you know her?”

“I went to school with her mother, and Joanie graduated with her father. They’ll take good care of Angie.”

“She must have been a young mom if she went to school with you.”

“Nancy and Joe married the week after we graduated from high school and Carley was born the next spring. I, on the other hand, went to college and changed majors twice.”

“Ah.” He reached up into another cupboard for mugs.

Knowing that Angie wasn’t in the house gave Sophie mixed feelings. On one hand, she was glad to have some time alone with Mitch to get to know him. On the other hand, she was alone with Mitch. And it had been a long time since she’d been attracted to a man. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. She’d been attracted before, but not to this degree. This was definitely attraction, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

But maybe he wasn’t interested.
It’s just coffee
, she told herself.
Don’t go worrying about things that haven’t happened yet.

Still, it was difficult to keep from wondering what it would be like to have those gorgeous eyes staring into hers, to have those efficient hands running through her hair…

“Do you want it plain today, or would you like some creamer?”

She blinked. “Uh, creamer, please.” Embarrassed by her train of thought, she took a sip. And scalded her tongue. Gasping, she set the mug down. Mitch grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice from the dispenser on the fridge and set it down in front of her. She lifted the glass to her lips and sighed as the ice cooled her tongue.

“Sorry.” He passed the creamer to her, along with a spoon, but the spoon fell through her fingers onto the floor. Both she and Mitch bent to pick it up at the same time, accidentally bumping heads. The jolt she felt had nothing to do with the bump, but everything to do with awareness. She rose, wondering if he’d felt it too.

Mitch rubbed his temple. Not a good sign. “Um, sorry about that,” she murmured.

He shook his head. “No problem at all. My skull is intact, and the dishwasher works great.” He picked up the spoon and loaded it into the machine then moved over to the silverware drawer and picked out another spoon. “Here you are. Nice clean spoon for your creamer.”

“Thanks.” She stirred, hoping inspiration would come to her for something witty to say. Too bad Joanie couldn’t be there coaching her. “So, um, how long have you lived here?”

“Angie and I moved in at the beginning of August. I wanted to get settled before she started first grade.”

“Good plan. I knew the Hagers, who used to live here. They were family friends. I didn’t realize they were planning to move.”

“Eric Hager is my uncle. He developed some health problems and they decided to move closer to their daughter in Muskegon. That way they’re also closer to their doctors, and the hospital, if they should need it.”

“I guess that shows you how out of touch I’ve been with this neighborhood.”

“People know you, though, and they remember you. It will take some time before Angie and I are accepted as part of the community.”

“Angie seems to have made some good friends.”

“Do you think so?”

“If she’s been invited to a sleepover, that’s a good sign she’s been accepted by the girls in her school. And I noticed that she interacts with the girls in her Sunday School class, too. She’s doing fine.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ve had my hands full trying to promote my business, but it’s a little hard getting people to drive out here to an unknown studio. It’s a good thing I’ve got contacts with the AP so I can still do some freelancing.”

“Aren’t the locals coming to you?”

“My calendar is full for the next month, thanks to your great idea of offering mini-sessions. But after the holidays, it’s totally empty. I’ve got to have something to keep paying the bills from January until wedding season begins.”

The thought of weddings made her heart skip a beat. She closed her eyes, needing to block out the view of the man who’d invaded far more of her thoughts than she’d be willing to admit. But she couldn’t keep them closed for long without looking silly. She opened them to find him staring at her. Not just at her, but
into
her. Deep into her soul. Could he tell what she was thinking?

She looked into his eyes for a signal, a sign, anything to tell her what to do. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his face drew closer, and closer… she closed her eyes and waited.

The first touch of his lips on hers was gentle, like a caress, and Sophie wondered if she had imagined it. She ran her tongue across her lower lip and gasped when he wrapped his arms around her and captured her mouth in a soul-searing kiss. But the shock was soon replaced with a yearning for more. Her arms went around him and she melted into him.

His lips touched every inch of her face, and as his fingers threaded her hair, she realized her fantasies hadn’t come close to the intense reality of being kissed by Mitch Carson. She rose on tiptoe and caressed the back of his head, matching him kiss for kiss.

A car door slammed shut outside. The sound was like a slap, a douse of cold water, and they broke apart just before the back door burst open.

“Miss Sophie! You came to visit us! Yay! Daddy, did you invite her over? Look at what I got.”

Sophie cast a glance at Mitch and noted his dazed expression.

The little girl eagerly showed her party favors to the adults, oblivious of the tension between them. “Wanna see my room? Daddy let me decorate it just the way I wanted. Come on!” Angie tugged at Sophie’s arm. There was nothing to do but follow.

The room was relatively plain. The walls were painted a pale shade of lavender with white trim. White lace curtains with purple trim covered the windows. A white four-poster bed graced the middle, and a matching dresser and chest of drawers flanked the window on the opposite wall. A small toy box was tucked next to the bed, and stuffed animals spilled out of it.

“I like purple, so I told Daddy I wanted
everything
to be purple. But he told me if everything was purple I wouldn’t be able to find anything. So I got white stuff too. Do you like my room, Miss Sophie?”

The little girl looked so earnest. “Yes, Angie. You did a wonderful job decorating your room. Purple is one of my favorite colors, too.”

Angie beamed. “Daddy said I could choose anything I wanted, because it’s my room. And ‘cuz he can’t see colors very well.”

“I can see some colors, kiddo,” Mitch argued from his post at the doorway.

Angie giggled. “I know, Daddy. But sometimes you get them mixed up. So this way, you can always get things right in my room ‘cuz everything is either purple or white!”

He grimaced then looked over at Sophie. “My daughter takes such good care of me.”

“Yes, she does.” So the man was color blind. That might explain the lack of decorations. Actually, there wasn’t much of anything on the walls, anywhere. No photos, which seemed odd for a photographer. No portraits of family, or vacations. Just one large school picture of Angie, showing her wide smile, missing teeth and uneven pigtails. That picture rested in a place of honor on the fireplace mantle, still in the cardboard frame from the school. Sophie’s imagination went into overdrive, thinking of all the ways she would decorate the house, even though she knew she’d never have the opportunity to put them into practice. She’d start with enlargements of the outdoor scenes he’d taken that afternoon. Best to go, before she got too comfortable there. “Well, I should head back to Joanie’s house—”