The cat only purred in response.
He let go of a long sigh. He wondered what was in that gaily wrapped package at the bottom of his knapsack. Maybe it would be better if he left town tomorrow and didn’t bother.
“Here you go.” Annie came into the room bearing a tray and a bright smile. “Hot chocolate, made with real milk.”
She bent over to put the tray down on the coffee table, giving Matt a great view of her backside. Unwanted desire tugged at him with a vengeance.
He shouldn’t be getting the hots for Nick’s old high school flame. Even if she and Nick had broken up twenty years ago. It seemed forbidden somehow.
And yet attraction was there as clear as a bell. Annie was everything Nick had said she was, and more. And her home was…
Well, he didn’t want to delve too deeply into that. Especially since he felt like he’d walked right into one of Nick’s Christmas stories.
Annie handed him a cup of chocolate, their fingers touched again, and the heat curled up in his chest.
He took the mug from her and lifted it to his mouth. The chocolate was warm and rich and sweet. A lot like the woman who had made it.
She turned away and put her hands on her hips. “We still have a lot of work to do.”
She picked up another box of ornaments and began digging through tissue. “These are my mother’s birds,” she said.
She pulled out a delicate red glass bird and clipped it to a branch.
“I take it your mother is gone?” he asked.
She nodded, her shoulders stiff. “Yeah, she died last spring. This is my first Christmas without her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, she’s in a happier place. She was always sick, and she missed my father.” Annie stopped and turned and gave him a very serious stare. “Sort of like Ruth these last few years.”
“You think I shouldn’t deliver my present?”
“Depends on the reason you want to deliver it.”
Before he could answer, the kitten got up and stretched, then bounded off Matt’s lap. It pranced over to a box laden with decorations and dived right into it. Pouncy stalked and jumped and pussyfooted while Matt and Annie watched her and laughed.
Finally she lifted her “dirty” face over the lip of the cardboard as she ferociously batted at the red ribbon she’d managed to entangle herself in.
“I think we should name you Holly,” Annie said on a laugh.
“Holly’s a good name for a cat that was found two days before Christmas,” Matt agreed.
Annie turned her head, and they gazed at each other for the longest moment. She finally blushed, and an answering heat rose like a column right through him. He stood up, drawn to her by some force he didn’t quite understand. “Annie Roberts,” he said, “I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”
She blinked at him. “Uh. That’s not possible. It’s probably just because Nick talked about me.”
“Maybe, but that’s not quite it. Do you believe in love at first sight?”
She blanched. “No. No, I don’t.” She turned a suddenly nervous gaze on the kitten who had curled up under the coffee table.
She stepped back toward the hallway. “Uh, I’m going to go check the guest bedroom-make sure the bed in there has clean sheets.”
She turned and escaped.
Matt stood by the tree watching her run.
Boy, he was an idiot. He should have kept his feelings inside. He glanced around the room, filled with Christmas decorations that had been carefully handed down through the generations.
Annie was like Nick. She had traditions and a place where she fit. Matt wanted all that. He could tell himself he’d come to deliver a Christmas gift, but that would be a lie.
He’d come to Last Chance in the hope that Ruth might invite him in and give him a taste of what Nick had known growing up. The truth was, Matt envied Nick’s childhood.
But Matt was just a stray, like the cat. And Annie had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in taking in any strays.
Christmas Eve day dawned gray. Annie awakened just before seven. She snuggled down under the covers and listened to the rain pinging against the tin roof.
She didn’t realize she had company until Holly pranced across Grandmother’s quilt, her little claws pulling at the fabric. Annie started to scold and then held her tongue.
The old quilt was nearly a rag anyway. She slept under it only as a matter of habit. For months now, she’d been telling herself that she’d make a run down to Target and buy herself something new.
Why had she been putting that off? Why hadn’t she gone down to Target earlier in the week and purchased new ornaments for the tree?
Why had she run away from Matt last night?
The kitten wormed its body up against her chest, curled itself into a little ball, and started to purr.
If she was going to keep it, she’d need to get a litter box.
She stopped herself in midthought.
She was not keeping this cat. No matter what. The cat was like an emblem for everything that was wrong in her life. If she took responsibility for a cat, like she’d taken responsibility for Mother all those years ago, how was she ever going to escape and find her own life?
She was getting old. She wanted children. She wanted a family of her own-someone she could hand the old ornaments off to. But if she accepted that cat, she was accepting the end of that dream.
No way. She pushed the cat aside. It didn’t get the message. It came right back at her, cute as a button and looking for love.
Matt looked up from his cup of coffee as Annie stepped into the kitchen. She looked like something out of a Christmas movie in a red-and-white snowflake sweater, her hair in a ponytail with a red ribbon.
“Thanks for all your help last night,” she said, as she leaned in the kitchen doorway. “I just checked in with the nursing home. They open for nonfamily visiting hours at ten am. I’ve got an early appointment at the beauty shop, and after that, I can run you up to Orangeburg. I’ve got some last-minute shopping to do; then I have to get back here to cook before my friends arrive for Christmas Eve dinner.”
“I’ve been an imposition, haven’t I?”
“No, it’s all right.” She seemed so nervous with her arms crossed over her breasts, as if she were trying to shield herself from him.
He came to the decision he’d been mulling over for most of the night. “Look, I’ve been thinking about what you said last night, about Ruth’s present.”
“Oh? What did I say? I don’t remember saying anything in particular.”
“You asked me why I wanted to deliver a present that’s probably going to make her very sad.”
“I asked that? I mean, I think you should think about what you’re doing. After all, Ruth is ill and she’s not entirely with it, you know.”
“Okay, maybe you didn’t. But it’s still a good question, isn’t it? I’ve been trying to decide why I wanted to come here and deliver that stupid gift. And well, the thing is, I’m not sure I came here for the right reasons.”
“What do you think are the right reasons, Matt?” Her gaze seemed to focus on him, as if she really cared about his answer.
He shrugged. “When I took that present from out of Nick’s effects, I told myself I was going to do his grandmother a favor. I thought it might be hard for her to get a Christmas present from a person who had died. I thought maybe I could come and say a couple of words to her, you know, about what a great buddy Nick had been.”
“That seems like a good reason, Matt.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but there was something else. I realized it last night while I was helping you with the tree.”
“What?”
