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  “What would it hurt to apply?” Maddie chimed in. “I’m sure your grandparents would be thrilled to have you here permanently. I know someone else who would be thrilled, too.” She nodded toward Dillon while winking furtively.

  “We’re just…friends.” Brynn’s cheeks burned. She was thankful Dillon appeared completely oblivious to their conversation as he indulged in a game of peek-a-boo with Nancy.

  “Sure you are.” A chuckle escaped Maddie’s lips. “And I still believe in the tooth fairy.”

  “I have a life back in Jacksonville…a job.”

  “Family?”

  “Well…I did. But Dad relocated to Charleston in October. He never stays in one place for too long. He has to go wherever the military tells him.” Brynn’s heart tugged at the thought of leaving Clover Cove. She found it odd that she already missed Dillon, and she hadn’t even gone yet. He sat right beside her, his shoulder nestled against hers as he segued from peek-a-boo to pat-a-cake, delighting Nancy with his antics.

  “What would it hurt, Brynn, to toss your name into the hat for the job? Sarah gave you that flyer for a reason. Maybe God’s working through her—have you considered that?”

  “I…” She drank in the sounds, the smells, and the heartfelt laughter swirling around her. On the counter near the end of the buffet line, a gallon jar overflowed with donations from those who’d come out to show their support for Janie and Sarah Mitchell. It had already been emptied twice. “I’ll think about it.”

  Colorful lights twinkled along the length of the ceiling while a Frasier fir, joyfully decorated and topped with a silver-toned star, greeted customers as they stepped into the foyer. In the background, the merry sounds of Christmas danced as carols played. It was all so lovely, so cozy…so home. And the best part of all was the man sitting beside her—Dillon.

  As if he read her mind, he leaned in to capture her lips. The kiss lingered, stoking her need to stay. Nancy, enthralled, clapped with delight before pressing one soft, tiny palm to Brynn’s cheek.

  “Kiss?” She puckered her plump little limps and pressed them to Brynn’s nose. Right then and there, Brynn melted. Her gaze clouded as a lump closed her throat, rendering her unable to speak. A swath of emotion chiseled straight through her heart. Maybe Maddie was right—maybe God was sending a message. She’d do best to consider things carefully.

  “I guess that settles it.” Maddie laughed. “Nancy has cast her vote.”

  A chill rushed through the room and Brynn lifted her head to see the entrance doors thrown wide. For a moment, it seemed a ghost had entered, but then, hauling a purse large as an oversized duffel bag, a woman stepped into the foyer light. She paused, preventing the doors from closing as she scanned the room. Her gaze zeroed in on Dillon, and a triumphant smile spread across lips glossed fireball-red. She tugged a knit cap from her head, unleashing a waterfall of auburn hair. The silky tresses spilled over her back to kiss her waist.

  “Dillon.” Her voice sliced through the chatter, and all eyes turned to watch her beeline like a heat-seeking missile toward the table. Three-inch heels clicked across the tile as she approached the table. “I’m back.”

  Dillon’s head shot up. “Jacqui.” He blanched white as the tablecloth as she neared. “What are you doing here?”

  “Well, that’s a fine how-do-you-do.” She dropped her purse on the floor and nudged Nancy aside to peck him on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, too. I see I’m just in time for the party. She scanned the length of the table, nodding appreciatively. “Wyatt, Reese, Maddie…Hattie. Hail, hail the gang’s all here. Well, isn’t this a comfy little gathering.”

  “I wasn’t expecting you.” Dillon shifted Nancy in his arms, perching her on the leg closer to Brynn.

  “Obviously.” Jacqui shimmied onto the seat beside him. Her gaze drifted to Brynn and her smile grew by the megawatt as she extended a hand. “Nice to meet you…er…”

  “Brynn Jansen.”

  “Oh, yes. Nice to meet you, Brynn. I’m Jacqueline Roberts. I suppose Dillon’s mentioned me.”

  “Actually…no.”

  Jacqueline’s laughter rang like broken glass. “That’s certainly a surprise, since the last time we were together we discussed marriage.”

  8

  Brynn opened the oven door, savoring the rush of heat that enveloped her and chased away the chill. Cinnamon wafted as steam carried the scent of cookies through the kitchen. This was the second batch of the day, one she planned to run by the hospital later to share with Sarah and Janie and the nurses at the pediatric wing.

  A group of nurses she’d never belong to. After last night’s fiasco with the illustrious Jacqui Roberts, she’d crumpled the job notice and tossed it into the dumpster on her way out the back door of Pappy’s. Now, nearly twenty-four hours and eight-dozen cookies later, her nerves were finally untangling.

  Following the presumptuous Jacqui’s grand entrance and “marriage” announcement, Dillon had quickly plopped Nancy onto Brynn’s lap and rushed from the restaurant with the stilt-clad woman in tow. No censure of her outrageous intrusion. No denial of Jaqui’s claim. Brynn could only assume the woman was telling the truth. It had given Brynn a measure of satisfaction to watch the overbearing woman teeter on the edge of stumbling as Dillon tugged her through the foyer’s double-paned doors and across the boulevard toward the nursery office. Their silhouette, illuminated by moonlight, was burned into Brynn’s memory.

  As were the astounded, sympathetic and gaping stares of those who remained at the table. Utter silence reigned for the better part of a minute before Hattie blurted, “Now I remember why I never cared much for that woman.”

  Followed by Gramps’s disgruntled, “Well, I’ll be.”

  It certainly hadn’t helped when Reese chimed in. “Looks like Dillon has a mess to clean up, and it’s sure to take more than a mop.”

  Brynn would never know what comments followed. She’d passed Nancy along to Maddie and, without so much as a glance back, fled in tears.

  Big, tough-girl she was. Not.

  Why had Dillon never mentioned this woman? If it were over between them, why keep that part of his life a secret? She was a fool for trusting his charm, his kisses…the nostalgia of her long-harbored, but childish notion of the two of them together. In reality, she’d known Dillon only a matter of weeks.

  And what did she really know about him?

  The walk home had cleared her head, making the only plausible plan-of-action clear: hightail it back to Jacksonville, pronto.

  Gran was nearly back to her old self, and Gramps could manage just fine now on his own. Even Janie had boarded the express train to healing and the doctor felt certain she’d usher in the New Year from her own home.

  So only one issue remained—Christmas with Santa.

  Dillon had tossed a serious wrench into that plan—right along with Jacqui.

  No, she’d tossed the wrench in, by letting down her guard and depending on Dillon’s help. She should have known better. Nothing is ever as it seems, even when it comes to trusting her heart.

  And right now her heart ached for what she’d lost, which seemed doubly odd, since up until last night, she hadn’t even known she’d found it.

  Found him—Dillon. Found love she hadn’t known was possible. But that love was gone before it had much of a chance to take flight.

  She’d be gone soon, too.

  ****

  Jacqueline had left, thank God. Getting her to budge had required a lengthy yet firm conversation in which Dillon made it perfectly clear that their relationship was over. There were tears coupled with a bit of pleading, but once Jacqui realized he was serious, the channel changed and the claws came out. He might have expected as much. He let her yell, endured the rant, before finally leading her to her car and waving one final goodbye.

  He’d felt light as he returned to Pappy’s. His thoughts settled on no one but Brynn. The crisp night chill bit his nose as he jammed his hands into his pockets and hunched again
st the wind. Meteorologists predicted a white Christmas, perfect for his stint as Santa with Brynn. He couldn’t wait to get back to her and set the record straight. He and Jacqui had never discussed marriage. No, the relationship had never traveled that far. Her assertion they had was simply wishful thinking on her part.

  The truth remained; Dillon had fallen in love with Brynn.

  Seeing Jacqui again had accomplished one thing—to prove his feelings for her were nothing more than an easy friendship, while what he felt for Brynn was strong and deep, borne of their meeting that snowy night years ago. With every thought, every shared detail of her life, the feeling had flourished. He hadn’t realized the depth of his emotions until the chance of losing her again stood front and center.

  He’d returned to Pappy’s to learn Brynn had fled. She’d refused his calls and shunned any attempt at contact.

  “Give her time.” Brynn’s grandmother had placed a hand on Dillon’s elbow, urging him to be patient. “Tomorrow is a new day.”

  Well, tomorrow was here. Dillon climbed the steps to the Jansen’s and rapped on the door. Shifting feet as he waited, he struggled to hold his temper in check. It would do no good to fly off the handle now. He tried to put himself in Brynn’s shoes, considered how he’d react if the tables were turned.

  Would he trust her?

  The door opened. Brynn took one look at him and, without a word, tried to slam it shut again.

  Dillon placed his foot along the jamb. “I’m not leaving until we straighten this out, Brynn.”

  “The road is a tangle of curves, Dillon.”

  “So, let’s untangle it.”

  Brynn huffed out a breath as her gaze sliced through him. “Where’s Jacqueline?”

  “In New York, I assume. Last I heard, she was headed back to the airport.”

  “That was a quick interlude.”

  “OK, if you’ll sheath the dagger and give me a chance to explain, I’d really appreciate it.” He scrubbed a hand over his chin, feeling the scruff of beard he’d failed to shave that morning. A sleepless night had left little energy for even the simplest tasks. “Please, Brynn, I need you to trust me.”

  Her gaze held as she pulled back on the door, allowing him entrance from the cold. Immediately, the aroma of cinnamon warmed him.

  “Gran and Gramps went to lunch with the Bakers after church.” Flour dusted Brynn’s lips, and he longed to kiss it away. “They’ll be back soon so if you want privacy, talk fast.”

  “You have to shelve the anger, first.”

  “I’m not angry. I’m just…trying to figure it all out. You kissed me, Dillon.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of that. And, for the record, I’d like to kiss you again.”

  “It’s not gonna happen.” Brynn crossed her arms to drive the point home. “I don’t take that kind of thing lightly.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “You led me to think—I thought…”

  “What did you think, Brynn?”

  “I thought you cared for me. I thought—”

  “I do.” He eased in, resting a palm over her elbow. “I care for you very much.”

  “How could you, when you’re still involved with that—that woman?”

  “We are not involved.” Dillon shook his head firmly. “Yes, we did our internship together and I won’t deny at one point I thought there might be something more to it than friendship. But there wasn’t, and we parted ways months ago, when the internship came to a close. She made it clear she could never live here in Clover Cove—even for me—and she headed back to New York. I came here—came home. That was the end of anything we might have shared, and that’s also the last I spoke to her—until last night.”

  “But I don’t understand why she said the things she did. She insinuated the two of you shared so much more.”

  “I suppose she was having second thoughts about ending it. But I wasn’t, Brynn. I’m not. Let me make one thing perfectly clear…I care for you as more than a friend. I care for you a lot. Honestly, I’m falling in love with you. I’ve waited years to see you again, and since the evening you arrived at the nursery in search of a tree I feel like everything’s come together. I feel something I’ve never felt before—something so strong and deep that it’s almost frightening. And it all has to do with you—with us. But none of that matters if you don’t trust me. Can you…do you?”

  “Oh, Dillon…” Tears leapt to Brynn’s eyes, spilling over to course down her cheeks. They shredded Dillon’s insides. “I thought I’d lost you, and I didn’t even know I had you to lose.”

  “You have me—all of me. If you want me, that is.”

  “Oh, I want you.” Brynn sniffled through her tears. “And I trust you. I truly do. But I just don’t know if I can stay here for good.”

  “Do you know that you can’t stay? Do you want to leave?”

  “No. But my job…and I threw away the paper Sarah gave me.”

  “We’ll get another one.”

  “But the job closes tomorrow.”

  “Then I suppose we’d better get on it.” Dillon brushed tears from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “It’s OK, Brynn. We’ll work it out.”

  “I’m sorry for taking off last night, for not giving you a chance to explain. I should have considered how awkward the situation was for you, as well as for me. I should have—”

  “It’s done.” He drew her into his embrace and relaxed as she pressed her cheek to his sweater. “Don’t cry now.”

  The air kicked on, whooshing through the registers along the floor to set the mistletoe into a pendulum motion from where it hung in the doorway. A few berries remained, and with great care Dillon eased Brynn that way. She lifted her head, tipping her lips up toward his. The kiss was slow and gentle, his unspoken promise of all he felt for her, and of all he hoped for both of them.

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve dawned with a blanket of downy snow and the promise of more to come. Brynn wrapped the last of Janie’s gifts as a pickup turned into the drive.

  Dillon.

  A flurry of red caught her eye as he exited the driver’s side dressed in the Santa costume he’d borrowed from Wyatt. With a plump pillow firmly secured at his waist, the disguise was picture-perfect. A smile tickled the fringe of Brynn’s lips—Janie was sure to be delighted by her special visitor.

  Dillon bounded two stairs at a time, and she rushed to the door to let him in. Though the supply of mistletoe berries had been exhausted more than a week ago, she planted a kiss firmly on his lips. The pillow made contact difficult, and his snowy-white beard tickled, causing her to giggle like a school girl.

  “Wow.” Dillon gathered her in as best he could manage. “That’s quite the greeting. Let me head back down the stairs and make my entrance again.”

  “Merry Christmas Eve.” Brynn tweaked his beard. “You look fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” He patted his midsection. “All those oatmeal cookies of yours have taken effect.”

  “Really, I—” Brynn’s cell phone rang and she paused long enough to pull it from her pocket. Perhaps Sarah needed something last-minute. She didn’t recognize the number, but she engaged the call just in case. “Hello?”

  “Brynn Jansen, this is Amelia Everett over at St. Mary’s Hospital.”

  “Is everything OK?” Brynn’s heart leapt into her throat as her pulse kicked up. “It’s not Janie, is it?”

  “Janie? Oh, no. I’m calling about your interview. The advisory board has reached a decision. I’d like to offer you the job. You indicated a starting date of January fifteenth. Does that still stand?”

  “Yes. Oh…thank you.”

  “I’ll touch base with you after the holidays to firm up plans, OK?”

  “That sounds fine.”

  “Merry Christmas, Brynn. Talk to you soon.”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  As Brynn disengaged the call, it was clear she needn’t reiterate to Dillon what had just transpired. The grin on his face s
poke volumes.

  “You’re staying?”

  “I’m staying.” Brynn slipped the phone back into her pocket as her gaze latched onto his and held tight. “But the job’s simply icing on the cake. I’d already made up my mind, Dillon, and not for the job but because…I love you. I can’t imagine being back in Jacksonville, apart from you. It’s not what I want because…I want you. I want us.”

  “In that case, I’m not going to allow another moment to slip by without asking…” He delved into the pocket of the Santa suit and drew out a shimmer of gold. He’d dropped to one knee before Brynn realized that what glittered beneath the light was a diamond. “My Christmas wish, forever an always, is to share each holiday—and every day in between—with you. I’ve waited a dozen years for you, Brynn, and I don’t want to wait any longer. So, will you be my wife?”

  Choked with tears, she could merely nod as Dillon slipped the ring on her finger and rose to claim a sweet kiss—one of countless he promised in the coming years together.

  “My Christmas wish came early.” He nodded, twining his fingers with hers. “Janie’s has, as well.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Remember that day in her room, when we made the list to Santa?” He patted his left pocket where she assumed he’d tucked the letter. “She sent a wish for you to stay. She loves you, Brynn. I love you.”

  “Well, as long as we’re talking Christmas wishes, we’d better get to the hospital soon. Sarah phoned this morning to say there’s a good chance Janie will be released today. She might be home for Christmas, Dillon.”

  “Now that’s the best news yet.” He squeezed Brynn’s hand. “Rally the troops, Mrs. Claus. We’ve got places to go, people to see, and…” He paused long enough to kiss her once more. “…memories to make.”

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