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“You and Hannah and I are here this year,” Trace said, unable to keep a note of sorrow from his voice.
“Too late,” Savannah said, a tear sliding down her cheek.
Trace thought of his suspicions about Mae’s reason for bringing them together. Not that he intended to get too carried away trying to see thatallof her wish came true, but celebrating this Christmas with her niece was the least he could do for the woman who’d believed in him.
“You said yourself that you think she’s watching over you,” he reminded Savannah. “What makes you think she’s not here right this second, gloating over having gotten us up here to celebrate the holiday and her memory at the same time?”
Savannah’s expression brightened. “You’re absolutely right! Let’s not disappoint her. We’ll make this the most memorable holiday ever. We’ll do everything just the way she used to do it, from the greens in the front hall to the candles on the mantel and in the windows.”
“Perfect,” he said enthusiastically. “Give me a minute to call my office and change, and I’ll meet you and Hannah out front. We’ll find the best tree on the tree farm.”
“It has to be huge,” Savannah warned.
He hesitated, phone receiver in hand. “How huge?”
“Really, really big.” She held her arms wide. “And very, very tall.”
“How were you and Hannah going to get such a huge tree back here by yourselves?”
“I was counting on help.”
“Are you sure you didn’t know I was coming?”
“Nope. Mr. Johnson has a truck. He also has a fondness for Mae’s sugar cookies.”
Trace winced. “The ones on the kitchen floor?”
“Those are the ones.”
“Think he’ll accept any other sort of bribe?” he asked, knowing that he was going to hate the alternative if Mr. Johnson declined to haul that tree.
“Nope. I think this tree is riding in your pristine, shiny SUV, shedding needles all the way,” she said happily.
Trace groaned. “I was afraid of that.”
She patted his hand, sending a jolt of awareness through him.
“I’ll go get a blanket to lay in the back,” she said soothingly. “Now, hurry, or you’ll have Hannah to deal with. Trust me, she’s worse than a nagging splinter when she’s anxious to get someplace. Right now she’s making a family of snow angels on the front lawn, but her enthusiasm for that will wear off shortly.”
“I’ll hurry,” Trace promised, unable to tear his gaze away as she left the room. He sighed, then dialed his office.
Two minutes later, he’d told his stunned secretary to shut the company down until after the new year, changed into warmer clothes and was heading out the front door, only to be greeted by squeals of delight as Hannah upended her mother into a snowbank. Savannah was sputtering and scraping snow out of her mouth. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she regarded her traitorous daughter.
Oblivious to her mother’s reaction, Hannah spotted Trace. Emboldened by her success with her mother, she raced in his direction. Trace braced for the hit. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, scooping her up when she would have tried to knock him on his backside. He held out a hand and helped Savannah up, even as Hannah tried to squirm free of his grip.
He looked into Savannah’s dancing eyes. “What do you think? Should I drop her in that snowdrift over there?”
“No!” Hannah squealed. “Put me down. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Trace kept his gaze on Savannah’s. “Your call.”
“Hannah does keep her promises,” she began thoughtfully. “Then again, that snow was really, really cold. She needs to know that.”
“I know it. I know it,” Hannah said. “Really, Mom. I swear.”
Before he realized what she intended, Savannah scooped up a handful of snow and rubbed her daughter’s face with it, dribbling a fair amount inside the collar of his coat while she was at it. Accident? he wondered. Probably not.
“Mom!” Hannah squealed, laughing.
