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“Christmas is a time for love and forgiveness.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling his tension. “If not for your father, then do this for yourself. Forgive him for the past. Let it go.”
He pulled away from her. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I’m asking for a Christmas miracle.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
IN THE STRAINED silence, Jason helped hang a few last ornaments. All the while, he tried to understand why a bunch of colorful ribbon, satin and molded glass should cause a lump to form in his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to push down the sentimental pang in his chest.
Still, his mind tumbled back in time. He clearly recalled being an excited little kid going with both his parents to pick out a Christmas tree. He knew his father would rather be at home watching football, but his mother insisted they search the mountainside for the perfect tree. Through the snow they’d trudge until his mom gave her stamp of approval on a very special pine tree.
Of course, that had been before his dad lived only for his next drink. Before everything went so terribly wrong.
His father, for all his faults, had loved his wife. And he’d played along with the festive plans for the holidays, making Jason’s mother very happy. Would playing along with Kara make her just as happy? Maybe in this one instance Jason should follow the old man’s lead.
He turned to her. The expectant look on her face immediately had him uttering, “You did a great job with the tree.”
Her smile blossomed and her straight white teeth peeked out from behind her lush lips. An urge mounted within him to cave in to his desire to sample her sweetness—once again pull her close and see if her kisses were as good as he remembered.
“You can help me with one last thing.” She knelt down next to an open box. “And what are you doing in here, little one?” She straightened, holding Sly in her arms. “Guess you don’t have the same aversion to the holiday as some people we know.”
Jason rolled his eyes at the cat’s silly expression. And Sly’s purring was the loudest he’d ever heard. It seemed Kara had totally won over his cat. What was next?
After Kara placed the cat on the quilt on the couch, she turned back to the box and pulled out an elongated container. Something about it rang a bell in his mind, but he couldn’t quite pull the fuzzy memory into focus.
“I found this earlier and knew it would be the perfect final touch.”
She peeled back the tissue paper and reached inside. With great care, she lifted out a Christmas angel. His Christmas angel. The breath hitched in his throat. Each year, his mother had helped him put the angel on top of the tree.
“Could you help me with this?” Kara asked, holding the delicate object out to him. “I’m too short to reach.”
He accepted the angel and gazed down at her painted blue eyes, graceful wings and golden halo. The white material had yellowed over the years, but she was still beautiful. His vision blurred. Damn, dust from these boxes must be irritating his eyes. He turned his back to Kara and swiped an arm across his face.
Then, clearing his throat, he rose up on his toes and placed the angel atop the tree. He took a moment to make sure it was properly positioned, just as his mother would have insisted. Then he stepped back.
“Looks perfect,” Kara said.
He nodded, not yet trusting his voice.
“I’m so glad I was able to find it. Childhood mementos can be so precious.”
His gaze remained on the angel. A powerful sensation came over him, as though his mother was trying to send him a message. He knew it was impossible. Ghosts weren’t real. People couldn’t talk to you from the great beyond. Still, there was this feeling that she wanted to get a message to him. But what?
“It’s like it’s a sign,” Kara said, startling him with her choice of words.
He turned to her, noticing how the Christmas lights highlighted her delicate features. Here in this setting, she didn’t look like someone he needed to hold at arm’s length. Maybe if he let his guard down just this once...
The lights flickered. A surprised gasp crossed Kara’s lips. Then they were plunged into darkness, except for the glow of the fireplace.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ve got plenty of wood to keep us warm.”
“You don’t think the p
ower will come back on like it did before?”
“Not with those fierce winds. We’ll be lucky to have power by tomorrow.”
Even though the strings of lights on the Christmas tree were darkened, the silver garland shimmered in the firelight.
