Mistletoe and Holly (12 page)

“My niece just walked in,” she said to the party on the line. “I’ll ask her and call you later to let you know. Goodbye.”

“Ask me what?” Leslie inquired when her aunt hung up the phone.

“Hello, Taggart,” she greeted him first before answering Leslie’s question. “That was Maude Freer on the phone, a dear friend of mine who lost her husband this fall. She called to ask me to come have dinner with her Thursday night. When I explained you were visiting me, she asked you to come with me. Naturally you can stay here if you’d rather.”

“Why don’t you have dinner with Holly and me that night?” Tagg suggested.

“I’d like that,” Leslie accepted his invitation, then glanced at her aunt. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. If I was your age, I certainly wouldn’t want to spend an evening in the company
of two widowed ladies when I could be with a good-looking man instead.”

“Why, thank you, Mrs. Evans.” Tagg inclined his head at the implied compliment, the corners of his mouth deepening with a suppressed smile.

“Then it’s all settled. I’ll call Maude back and let her know,” Patsy Evans stated decisively.

Tagg set her package on the counter and reached for the doorknob to leave. “Thursday night, around six?”

“That’s fine.” Leslie nodded her agreement.

A
HARD CRUST
had formed on the old snow. It crunched under her crutches like the breaking of ice, leaving clear-cut holes in the snow. New snowflakes swirled all around Leslie as she took a shortcut across the driveway and the Williams’s front yard to the door. It was like being inside the glass dome of a winter scene after someone had shaken it.

The front porch light was on, throwing its light into the early evening darkness to show Leslie the way to the steps. The snow had begun falling as gentle flurries, but the flakes were coming down in earnest now. She clumped up the steps and across the wooden porch floor to the front door, punching the bell.

The muted echo of the doorbell had barely faded when Holly yanked the door open to admit her. Leslie swung across the threshold on her crutches and paused inside the door to lean her weight on them. The cold air had left her slightly out of breath. She smiled at Tagg when he came to greet her.

“I was hoping you’d come early,” Holly declared. “We’ve almost got dinner ready, but I wanted to show you all the presents under the tree.”

“Give Leslie a chance to take her coat off before you drag her off,” Tagg said with an indulgent smile and moved forward to help her out of it.

“It’s really coming down out there.” Leslie loosened the wool scarf around her neck. White crystalline flakes were quickly melting to leave diamond drops sparkling in her tawny hair. “I hope it doesn’t get too bad before Aunt Patsy leaves to come home.”

“She’s lived in Vermont most of her life. She knows how to drive in this kind of weather, so I wouldn’t worry about her having any difficulty,” Tagg replied, helping to slip her arm out of one coat sleeve, then the other.

When Tagg moved away to hang up her coat in the front closet, Leslie brushed at the melting snow on her clothes. Her calf-length skirt of camel tan concealed most of the plaster cast on her left leg. The rest of it was covered by a brown sock, the
same shade as the tall, heeled boot she wore on her right foot. Adorning the plain white turtleneck sweater she was wearing, there was a large, gold medallion necklace in the design of an Aztec sun. She paused to adjust the clasp behind her neck.

Holly tugged at her arm, laughing up at her. “Leslie, Daddy’s standing under the mistletoe.”

When she lifted her head, she saw Tagg looking up at the ribboned sprig of mistletoe above him. “Sure enough. It’s up there,” he declared, bringing his glinting gaze down level with hers. “Now, I wonder how that happened.” The faint curve of his mouth challenged her to carry out the tradition.

“I wonder, too,” Leslie mocked, aware of Holly’s silent urging.

It was only a few swinging strides to where he was standing. Leslie crossed the space and pushed on the crutches to raise herself on tiptoe while he tilted his head down. This mistletoe kiss wasn’t as brief as the first one had been, their lips moving together in a warmly ardent greeting after being so long apart.

An involuntary sigh trembled through her when she drew away, the raw sweetness of the controlled exchange making her want to get rid of the bonds of propriety. Tagg held her gaze for a long moment, his nostrils distended as if drinking in the perfumed fragrance of her and memorizing it. Then his attention
swung reluctantly to his daughter as if needing to remind himself of her presence.

“You can show Leslie all the presents now while I take the food to the table,” he said.

“Come over here, Leslie.” Holly waved her toward the lighted tree in the living room.

Leslie was slow to follow the little girl. Her gaze traveled after Tagg as he cut through the dining room toward the kitchen. Slim-fitting black slacks accented his narrow-hipped and long-legged build and the heavily ribbed smoke blue sweater hinted at the muscular strength of his chest and shoulders. As the other girls in the office would say, he was “some hunk of man” with his hair gleaming blue-black in the interior light.

“Do you see this one, Leslie?” Holly’s voice demanded her attention, breaking into her thoughts. “It’s so heavy I can’t pick it up. And it’s got my name on it, too.”

“What do you suppose is in it?” Leslie asked the expected question.

“I don’t know, and Daddy won’t give me any clues,” Holly grimaced in mild exasperation. “See this one.”

After Leslie had dutifully looked at the packages under the tree, Holly led her into the dining room. “You sit here.” She pulled out a chair for her as Tagg
arrived with the platter of roast beef. All the rest of the food was already on the table.

“It smells delicious,” Leslie declared, taking her seat.

“It should. We’ve been slaving in the kitchen all afternoon, haven’t we, Holly?” Tagg asked his daughter for confirmation of his mocking remark.

“We’ve got pumpkin pie for dessert,” she informed Leslie. “And I helped make it. I helped Daddy cook everything.” After thinking about that, Holly qualified her expansive statement. “Well, almost everything.”

Leslie wasn’t sure whether it was the food or the company, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed a meal so much. Even clearing the table and washing the dirty dishes afterward was kinda fun with all three of them pitching in to do their share. Leslie washed, Tagg dried, and Holly put them away.

Then it was hot chocolate in the living room with the crackle of logs burning in the fireplace. It wasn’t long until the hypnotic flames had weaved a silent spell on all of them. Leslie didn’t notice the quiet until it was broken by the slap of Tagg’s hand on Holly’s leg. The two of them were seated on the couch while Leslie occupied the matching chair and ottoman.

“School tomorrow, little lady,” Tagg stated lazily. “It’s time for you to get to bed.”

If Holly intended to protest, she thought better of it when she was overtaken by a sleepy yawn. “Okay.” She pushed off the sofa and walked over to kiss him goodnight. “Can Leslie come up and tuck me in?”

The request appeared to catch him off guard, then he threw a questing look at Leslie. “She might not want to climb the stairs.” He offered her an excuse if she wanted to use it, but she was oddly touched by Holly’s request.

“I think me and my trusty crutches can manage them,” she assured Holly. “You call me when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” She headed for the maplewood staircase at a running walk and went up the steps at the same pace.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Tagg said. “It’s probably a novelty to have a woman tuck her into bed.”

“It’ll be a novelty for me, too,” Leslie replied and listened to the muffled noises overhead.

“More cocoa?” he asked.

“No thanks.” She shook her head.

“I’ll just take these mugs out to the kitchen.” He rolled to his feet and collected the empty cocoa cups.

Tagg was just returning to the living room when Holly called down, “I’m ready!”

“I’ll be back.” Leslie smiled at Tagg and headed for the stairs.

The steps were nice and wide, giving her plenty of room to maneuver her crutches. At the head of the stairs, a door was standing open to a lighted room. Holly was sitting cross-legged on the single bed with the covers turned back, waiting for Leslie. She came into the room, not too sure what was expected from her.

“You have a nice room, Holly.”

Blue-flowered wallpaper covered the walls with matching light blue curtains and bedspread, as well as a skirted vanity table painted white like the rest of the woodwork. A few dolls and some of her toys were arranged neatly on white shelves. The bedside lamp had a frilly white shade.

“I’m glad you came up to tuck me in,” Holly stated when Leslie lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed.

“So am I.” She lifted the covers so Holly could slide her legs under them.

“You like my daddy, don’t you?” Holly folded her hands behind her head, watching Leslie with her round, innocent blue eyes. Long black hair spilled across the pillow case.

“Yes, I do,” Leslie admitted.

“He likes you, too. And I’m glad,” she stated.
“Because I like you a lot. I wish you lived here all the time instead of just staying here over the holidays.”

“New York isn’t that far away. I can come here to visit again,” Leslie reminded her. “Because I like you a lot, too.”

A happy smile split Holly’s face. She pulled her arms down and snuggled under the covers. “Good night, Leslie.”

“Goodnight, Holly.” It suddenly seemed perfectly natural to bend over and kiss the girl’s soft cheek. When she was standing, Leslie looked down at the child. “Shall I leave a light on?”

“No. I’m not afraid of the dark,” Holly assured her.

She switched off the lamp and moved toward the lighted stairwell. The telephone rang as she started down the steps. She heard Tagg answer it, but her thoughts were on Holly so she didn’t listen to his side of the conversation.

All the lights in the living room had been turned off except for the winking Christmas tree lights and the flickering glow from the fireplace. The room’s dimness made for an intimate atmosphere. Leslie paused beside the ottoman, turning when she heard Tagg coming.

“That was your aunt on the phone,” he informed her. “She decided the roads were too icy so she’s
going to stay the night with her friend rather than drive home.”

“Is it getting worse outside?” Leslie glanced toward the steamed-over window but it was impossible to see out.

“It’s coming down pretty thick,” he admitted. “Your aunt said the weatherman on the radio is predicting six to ten inches by morning.”

She lowered herself onto the ottoman so she could be closer to the fire. “As the song says, ‘Let it snow.’ ”

“I agree.” Tagg stretched out his length on the floor in front of her, propped on one elbow and looking into the leaping flames curling up from the charred white logs edged with red.

“What’s with the lights?” Leslie asked with a faint smile, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knee. “Conserving energy?”

“I could have turned the lights down low, but I turned them off,” he admitted, his mouth quirking on one side. He turned the upper half of his body toward her and held out his arm. “How else could I create the right mood to suggest you come down here with me?”

Accepting the invitation and his assistance, Leslie lay down on the warm carpet beside him with her head pillowed on his arm. He turned onto his side, facing her, and kissed at her lips, then drew back.

“Alone at last,” he murmured.

“It’s always possible Holly might decide she wants a drink of water,” Leslie murmured to tease him.

“If she does, I’ll drown her,” Tagg growled the mock threat.

“No, you won’t,” she laughed softly.

“Don’t be too sure,” he warned. “I’ve been wanting to be alone with you for a long time.”

When he lowered his mouth onto hers, its raw passion seemed to prove his patience had reached its limits. Her arms wound around him holding on while her senses were shaken by the answering rush of heat. With moist and mobile force, he kissed her lips apart and tasted the fullness of her response opening up to him. She was gathered close against him, her breasts feeling the solidness of his chest through the knitted material of her sweater.

For heated moments, the exchange continued while the blood pounded through her veins. Her breath was coming heavy and fast when Tagg grazed her cheek with kisses and pushed the hair away from her ear to take nibbling lovebites at the lobe. The high, rolled collar of her turtleneck sweater impeded his attempt to explore the sensitive cords in her throat and neck.

“Do you know what the trouble with winter is?” His warm breath spilled over her skin as his lips formed the words against her cheek.

“What?” she whispered, thinking it was a silly question at this particular time.

“People wear too many clothes, especially women,” Tagg said quickly. Aware of his hand getting tangled in the knit folds of her loose sweater, Leslie laughed, but it was a breathless, barely audible sound. “You can never be sure what’s under them until you take them off.”