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doesn't come first." She drew back far enough to look at him. "What
you want can't come first. Before, somehow I never thought you'd
really go. This time I know you will. Let's just take what we have, give
each other this one Christmas. Please."
She closed her mouth over his and stopped all questions.
Chapter Eight
Christmas Eve was magic. Faith had always believed it. When she
awoke with Jason beside her, it was more than magic. For a while, she
simply lay there, watching him sleep. She'd imagined it before, as a
girl, as a woman, but now she didn't need the dreams. He was here
beside her, warm, quiet, and outside an early morning snow was
falling. Careful not to wake him, Faith slipped out of bed.
When he rolled over, he smelled her the springtime scent her hair had
left on the pillowcase. For a few minutes, he lay still and let it seep into
his system. Content, he lay back and looked at the room he hadn't been
able to see in the dark.
The walls were papered, ivory, with little sprigs of violets. At the
windows were fussy priscillas. There was an antique rosewood bureau
cluttered with colored bottles and boxes. On a vanity was an old-
fashioned silver-handled brush and comb. He watched the snow fall and
smelled the potpourri on the stand beside the bed. The room was so like
her charming, fresh, and very, very feminine. A man could relax there
even knowing he might find stockings draped over a chair or a blouse
mixed with his shirts. He could relax there. And he wasn't letting her go
again.
He smelted the coffee before he was halfway down the stairs. She had
Christmas music on the stereo and bacon frying. He hadn't known it
would feel so good just to walk into a kitchen and find your woman
cooking for you.
"So you're up." She was wrapped from head to foot in a bright flannel
robe. Desire dragged quietly at his stomach muscles. "There's coffee."
"I could smell it." He went to her. "I could smell you the moment I
woke."
She rested her head on his shoulder, trying not to think that this was the
way it might
have been if only. "You look as though you could have slept for hours.
It's a good thing you didn't or the bacon would be cold."
"If you'd stayed in bed a few more minutes, we might have "
"Mom! Mom! It's snowing!" Clara burst through the door and danced
around the kitchen. "We're going to go caroling tonight in the hay wagon
and there's snow all over the place." She stopped in front of Jason and
grinned. "Hi."
"Hi yourself."
"Mom and I are going to build a snowman. She says Christmas snowmen
are the best. You can help."
She hadn't known just what reaction Clara would have to finding Jason
at the breakfast table. With a shake of her head, Faith began to beat eggs.
She should have known Clara would be willing to accept anyone she'd
decided to like. "You have to have some breakfast."
Clara fingered the plastic Santa on her lapel, tugging on the string so that
the nose lit up. It never failed to please her. "I had cereal at Marcie's."
"Did you thank her mother for having you?"
"Yeah." She stopped a minute. "I think I did. Anyway we're going to
build two of them and have a wedding and everything. Marcie wanted
the wedding," she added to Jason.
"Clara would prefer a war."
"I figured we could have that after. Maybe I should have some hot
chocolate first." She eyed the cookie jar and calculated her chances. Slim
at best.
"I'll fix it. And you can have a cookie after the snowman," Faith told her
without bothering to turn. "Hang your things by the door."
Scrambling out of her coat, she chattered at Jason. "You're not going
back to Africa, are you? I don't think Africa would be much fun at
Christmas. Marcie's mother said you'd probably be going to some other
neat place."
"I'm supposed to go to Hong Kong in a few weeks." He glanced at Faith.
She didn't turn. "But I'll be around for Christmas."
"Do you have a tree in your room?" "No."
She gave him a wide-eyed look. "Well, where do you put your presents?
It's not
Christmas without a tree, is it, Mom?"
Faith thought of the years Jason had grown up without one. She
remembered how hard he'd tried to pretend it didn't matter. "A tree's only
so that we can show other people it's Christmas."
Unconvinced; Clara plopped into a chair. "Well, maybe."
"She used to say the same thing to me," Jason told Clara. "In any case, I
don't think Mr. Beantree would like it if I left pine needles all over the
floor."
"We've got a tree, so you can have dinner with us," Clara declared.
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