Small Town Christmas by Jill Shalvis, Hope Ramsay, Katie Lane (7)

Baby Jesus wailed loud enough to be heard in the next county. His floodlit manger rocked back and forth while a group of gaily painted plaster wisemen looked on. Staff Sergeant Matt Jasper took a few hesitant steps toward the crèche and wondered if PTSD had finally found him. He peeked into the wobbling manger.

A pair of golden eyes stared back.

He let go of the breath he’d been holding. It was a cat, not a baby. Thank goodness. He knew how to handle a cat. A baby would have scared him silly.

“What’re you doing in there with Jesus?” he said as he scooped up the animal and cradled it against his chest. It sank its claws into the fabric of his combat uniform and ducked its head under his chin.

It started to purr, its body shaking with the effort.

He looked down at the animal. The markings on its face weren’t quite symmetrical—a little patch of brown fur by its white nose made its face look dirty. The cat stared back at him as if it could see things beyond Matt’s vision.

Then it let go of its claws and settled down into his big hands as if it believed it had found a permanent home.

Stupid cat. It should know better than to settle on him. He didn’t have a permanent home. He was as much a stray as the animal in his hands.

He didn’t need a cat right now.

He just needed to deliver Nick’s present—the last one he’d bought for his grandmother. And once Matt finished that errand, he could think about the future—preferably without any animals in it.

Annie Roberts sang the closing lyrics to “Watchman, Tell Us of the Night,” her solo scheduled for tomorrow night’s Christmas Eve service. Dale Pontius, the Christ Church choir director, sat in the back pew listening and nodding his head.

Pride rushed through her. She had a very good singing voice, and she loved this particular carol. She was looking forward to singing it for everyone at tomorrow night’s services. Singing on Christmas Eve was one of Annie’s greatest joys. She’d been singing in the Christ Church choir since she’d returned home from college, almost fifteen years before.

Just as the closing notes of the guitar accompaniment faded, a soldier in fatigues with a big pack on his back entered the sanctuary through the front doors. He strolled down the center aisle a few steps, the sound of his boot heels echoing. He stared up at the choir and Annie in particular.

He had forgotten to take off his dark beret, and a shadow of day-old beard colored his cheeks. He looked hard and worn around the edges.

“Who the dickens are you?” Dale said from his place in the back pew.

The soldier looked over one broad shoulder. “I’m Staff Sergeant Matt Jasper, sir,” he said in a deep voice. “I was wondering if anyone had lost a cat. And also I need some directions.”

It was only then that Annie noticed the ball of orange, white, and brown fur resting in Sergeant Jasper’s hands.

“Good heavens, get that mangy thing out of here. I’m allergic.” Dale stood up and gestured toward the door.

Millie Polk, standing behind Annie in the alto section whispered, sotto voce, “Maybe he’ll have a sneezing fit, and we’ll all get to go home to our gift wrapping and cooking.”

This elicited several chortles of laughter from the vicinity of the sopranos. Annie loved choir practice, but she had to admit that Dale was a real taskmaster this time of year. And, like Millie Polk, she had a long list of Christmas errands she needed to get done before tomorrow afternoon.

“You think a cat in this sanctuary is funny?” Dale said, turning toward the soprano section. “Did ya’ll have any idea how lacking your performance of the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ was this evening? There is nothing funny about this situation.”

Dale turned toward the soldier. “I am very grateful for your service to the country, but this is a closed rehearsal. I would appreciate it if you would leave and take the cat with you.”

It was almost comical the way Dale managed to stare down his nose while simultaneously looking up at the sergeant holding the kitten. The situation was sort of like a Chihuahua playing alpha dog to an adorable collie.

Matt Jasper wasn’t intimidated by Dale though. He simply stared down at the choir director out of a pair of dark, almost black eyes. His eyebrows waggled. “Sorry to bust up your choir practice, sir, but I found this cat in your manger. If I hadn’t picked it up, it probably would have broken your baby Jesus. So I figure the cat’s yours. I need to get going. I’ve got an errand to run, and I—”

“Well, it’s not my cat.” Dale turned to the choir. “Did any of you bring your cat to choir practice?” There was no mistaking the scorn in Dale’s voice.

The choir got really quiet. Nobody liked it when Dale lost his temper.

“See? The cat doesn’t belong to anyone.” Dale gazed at the bundle of fur in the soldier’s hands and sniffed. “It’s probably a stray. Why don’t you leave it outside and get on with your errand?”

“He can’t do that,” Annie said, and then immediately regretted her words. She did not want a cat, no matter how lonely she felt sometimes.

On the other hand, she wasn’t going to stand by and let Dale Pontius and Sergeant Jasper drop a stray in the churchyard and walk away. That was inhumane.

Dale turned toward Annie, his displeasure evident in his scowl. Dale could be a tyrant. She should keep her mouth shut. But for some reason, the little bundle of fur in the big soldier’s hands made her brave. “It’s cold outside. It’s supposed to rain.”

She pulled her gaze away from Dale and gave the soldier the stink eye. She wasn’t intimidated by that uniform or his broad shoulders. He needed to know that she frowned on people leaving stray cats in the neighborhood.

Jasper’s full mouth twitched a little at the corner. “Ma’am,” he said, “you can rest easy. I’m not going to leave it outside to wander. I’d like to find it a good home.” His gaze never wavered. His eyes were deep and dark and sad, like a puppy dog’s eyes.

She didn’t need a puppy either.

The cat issued a big, loud meow that reverberated in the empty sanctuary. The church’s amazing acoustic qualities magnified the meow to monumental proportions.

“Get that thing out of here.” Dale was working himself into a tizzy.

“Uh, look,” the soldier said, “can anyone here tell me where I might find Ruth Clausen? I went to what I thought was her address, but the house is all boarded up.”

The choir shifted uneasily. “Ruth’s in a nursing home,” Annie said.

The soldier’s thick eyebrows almost met in the middle when he frowned. “In a nursing home?”

“Yes, she’s very old and quite ill,” Dale said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a choir practice to get on with.” Dale strode past the man in the aisle and back to the front of the church.

“That was very nice, Annie, Clay.” Dale turned toward Clay Rhodes, the choir’s main instrumentalist. “I’d like one more run-through on the Handel.”

Annie resumed her place with the altos, and Clay put his guitar in its stand and took his place at the organ. He flipped through a few pages of music and began the opening chords of the “Hallelujah Chorus.”

Annie sang her part and watched as the cat-packing soldier ignored Dale’s request and took a seat in the back pew. Halfway through the choir’s performance, Sergeant Jasper must have remembered that he was in a church, because he finally took off his beret. His hair was salt-and-pepper and cut military short.

For some reason, Annie couldn’t keep her eyes off him. She wondered if he might have been one of Nick’s friends.

It seemed likely, since he’d come in here asking after Ruth, Nick’s grandmother. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him that he’d come on a fool’s errand.

Matt settled back in the pew and listened to the music. This little town was way in the boonies, but the choir sounded pretty good. Not that he was a student of religious Christmas music. Matt had never been to church on Christmas. In fact, he’d pretty much never been to church in his life.

Not like Nick Clausen. If Nick’s stories were to be believed, his folks had practically lived at church.

That’s why Matt had come here to the church after he’d discovered that Ruth’s house was boarded up. He’d known that someone at this church would know where to find Nick’s grandmother.

Just like he’d known that the altar would have big bunches of poinsettias all over it, and the stained-glass window would have a picture of Jesus up on his cross.

It struck him, sitting there, that Nick had gone to Sunday school here. Nick had been confirmed here. He’d come here on Christmas Eve.

Matt took a deep breath. Boy, Nick sure had loved Christmas. Matt could kind of understand it, too, listening to the choir.

Matt’s Christmases had been spent in a crummy apartment in Chicago while his mother and father got drunk.

He closed his eyes and let the music carry him away from those memories. He’d gotten over his childhood. He’d found a home in the army. He’d made something of himself.

He buried his fingers in the stray’s soft fur. It licked his hand with a rough tongue.

He needed to find the local animal shelter, followed by the nursing home. Then he planned to get the hell out of Dodge before the urge to stay overwhelmed him. Because a guy like him didn’t belong in a place like this. This was Nick’s place, not his.

The music ended, and the choir director finally let everyone go. Matt stood up and slung his pack over his shoulder. Maybe the brown-haired woman with the amazing voice could help him. He’d heard her singing from out on the lawn, after the cat had stopped howling. The sound had called to him, and he’d followed it right into the church.

The choir members seemed thrilled to be dismissed. Probably because the choir director was a jerk, and they had shopping, and cooking, and a lot of other holiday crap to do. People in Last Chance would be busy like that, cooking big meals, wrapping presents, decorating trees, and stuff.

He found the brown-haired woman who’d spoken up in the cat’s defense. “Ma’am, I was wondering, could you help me, please?”

She was shrugging into a big dark coat that had a sparkly Christmas tree pin on its collar. She gazed at him out of a pair of dark blue eyes. She had very pale skin, a long nose, and a thin face.

“I’m not taking your cat,” she said in a defensive voice. “But if you’re looking for Ruth, she’s in the Golden Years Nursing Home up in Orangeburg.”

He frowned. “Where’s that?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, ma’am. I’m originally from Chicago. Since I joined up, I’m from wherever they station me.” Except, of course, that wasn’t true anymore. He hadn’t re-upped this time, and he had nowhere permanent to go. He’d come to deliver Nick’s present, and then he had some vague plans for spending New Year’s on a beach somewhere—maybe Miami.

“Well, Orangeburg is about twenty miles north of here. But I need to warn you, Ruth’s been in the nursing home for the last year, and she’s pretty ill. I know because I work for her doctor.”

“I see.”

“Are you a friend of Nick’s?” she asked.

He smiled. “Yes. Did you know him too?”

“I went to high school with him. I had a bit of a crush on him.” She blushed when she said it.

“And you are?”

“I’m Annie Roberts.”

He blinked and almost said I know you. But of course he didn’t know Annie, except from the things Nick had told him. Annie had been Nick’s girlfriend in high school. They had broken up the night of their senior prom.

“You studied nursing at the University of Michigan,” he said.

“How did you—Oh, Nick told you that, didn’t he?”

He grinned. “He told me you were looking forward to going someplace where it snows.”

She frowned at him. “Why are you here? Nick died more than a year ago.”

“I know. I was with him when it happened.”

“Oh.”

He shouldn’t have said that. People always got that look on their faces when he spoke about this crap. No one back home really understood.

She squared her shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Are you a member of the Army Engineers K-9 team too?”

He continued to stroke the cat. “I was. As of yesterday, I’m officially a civilian.”

The words came out easy. It took everything he had to hide the emotions behind them.

“And you came here? Right before Christmas? Don’t you have a family someplace?”

He shrugged. “I have Nick’s last Christmas present—you know, the one he intended to send home to his grandmother. I need to deliver it.”

Her gaze pierced him for a moment. It was almost as if she could read all of his thoughts and emotions. A muscle ticked in her cheek, and she seemed to be weighing something in her mind.

She must have decided that he wasn’t a threat because she let go of a long breath and gave the kitten a little stroke. “Poor thing. She looks half starved.”

“How do you know it’s a female?”

“How do you know it’s not?”

He shifted the animal so he could actually inspect it. “Well, you were right. It’s a girl. Means she’ll have to be fixed. Is there an animal shelter somewhere?”

“Yes. In Allenberg. But it’s probably closed.”

His frustration with the situation mounted. “Uh, look, Annie, I just got in on the bus from Charlotte. I don’t have a car. And now I need to find a home for this kitten, as well as a place to stay for the night. It’s probably too late to go visiting at a nursing home twenty miles away.”

She buttoned up her coat. “Boy, you’re in a fix, aren’t you?”

“Is there a hotel somewhere?”

Her cheeks colored just the slightest bit. “Well, the only place in town is the Peach Blossom Motor Court. They would probably allow you to keep the cat.”

“I’ve heard about the Peach Blossom Motor Court,” he blurted and then remembered the story. “Oh, crap. That was stupid.”

Annie’s cheeks reddened further. “I guess guys in the army have nothing better to do than talk.”

“Yes, ma’am. And believe me, being in the army can be really boring at times. Guys talk about home all the time. I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“Don’t be sorry. What happened between me and Nick the night of senior prom happened almost twenty years ago.”

“I guess he never told you about me, did he?” Nick asked.

She shook her head. “Why would he? He and I parted ways that night. He went off to join the army and see the world. I went off to college to see the snow. I guess I saw him that Christmas right after he went through basic training, but I wasn’t speaking with him at the time.” She hugged herself, and Matt noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

So the girl Nick had never forgotten was unmarried.

She gave him a smile that didn’t show any teeth. A few lines bunched at the corner of her eyes. She wasn’t young. But she was pretty.

And Matt knew that she was sweet. He had a lot of Nick’s stories filed away in his head. Nick had been a real good storyteller when things got slow.

Annie studied the cat sleeping in his hands and then nodded her head as if she’d come to a decision. “Look, you can’t stay at the Peach Blossom. It probably has bed bugs. It’s just an awful place. So you might as well come on home with me. I’ve got a perfectly fine guest room where you can sleep, and in the morning, we can figure something out. I’m sure I can find someone to run you up to Orangeburg, or I can do it myself.”

“How about a friend who wants to adopt Fluffy?” He held up the cat in his hands.

“Fluffy?” She gave him a funny look. “That is a stupid name for a cat.”

“Why? She’s kind of fluffy.”

“Yeah, but everyone names their cat Fluffy. There must be five Fluffys living here in Last Chance, and they all belong to single women. Please don’t name the cat Fluffy.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Matt said. “I thought you didn’t care about this cat.”

“Well, no, but you found it in a manger a couple days before Christmas, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, it needs a better name than Fluffy. Something holiday-related, like Noel.”

He looked down at the slightly scruffy kitten. “That’s a pretty pretentious name for this particular cat, don’t you think? Of course, if you were going to adopt it, you could name it anything you wanted.”

She scowled at him. “I’m not adopting any cats, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Annie should have her head examined. She could almost hear Mother’s voice outlining all the reasons she should send Sergeant Matt Jasper off to the Peach Blossom Motor Court. Mother would start with the fact that he was male, and then move right on to the worry that he was secretly either a pervert or an ax murderer.

Mother had trust issues.

But Annie could not, for the life of her, believe that a man with Matt’s warm, dark eyes was either a pervert or a murderer. And besides, he knew how to handle the cat. His hands were big and gentle. And that uniform seemed to be tailor made for him.

She led him down the aisle and out the door and into the blustery December evening.

“Feels like snow,” he said.

She laughed. “I don’t think so. We don’t ever get snow here.”

“It seems like you should.” They headed across Palmetto Avenue and down Julia Street.

“Snow in South Carolina? Not happening.”

He shifted the cat in his arms. “Nick used to talk about Christmas in Last Chance all the time. I always kind of imagined the place with a dusting of snow.”

She snorted. “Nick sure could tell stories. But I can only remember one year when we got a dusting of snow. It was pitiful by snow standards. And it didn’t last very long.”

“Well, I’m from Chicago, you know.”

“So I reckon ya’ll have snow on the ground at Christmas all the time.”

“Yeah. But in the city it doesn’t take very long for the snow to get dirty and gray. I always kind of imagined Last Chance covered in pristine white.”

“Well, that’s a fantasy.” She reached her mother’s house on Oak Street. The old place needed a coat of paint, and a few of the porch balusters needed replacing. Annie ought to sell the place and move to Orangeburg or Columbia. A registered nurse could get a job just about anywhere these days. And her social life might improve if she moved to a bigger town.

But she’d have to leave home. She’d have to leave friends. She’d have to leave the choir and the book club, not to mention Doc Cooper and the clinic.

No wonder Miriam Randall had told her to get a cat. If she wanted to deal with her loneliness in Last Chance, a cat was probably her best bet.

She pushed open the door and hit the switch for the hall and porch lights. Her Christmas lights—the same strand of large-bulbed lights that Mother had used for decades—blinked on.

“Oh,” Matt said. It was less than a word and more than an exhalation.

“I’m afraid it’s not much of a display. Nothing like the lights the Canadays put out every year.”

She looked over her shoulder. Matt was smiling, the lights twinkling merrily in his eyes. A strange heat flowed through Annie that she recognized as attraction.

Boy, she was really pathetic, wasn’t she?

She shucked out of her coat and hung it on one of the pegs by the door.

“It smells wonderful in here,” Matt said. He strolled past her into the front parlor. His presence filled up the space and made the large room seem smaller by half. He made a full three-sixty, inspecting everything, from the old upright piano to Grandmother’s ancient mohair furniture.

Crap. Her house look like it belonged to a little old lady. Which, in fact, it had, until last spring, when Mother died. Suddenly the cabbage rose wallpaper and the threadbare carpet made Annie feel like a spinster. The cat would complete the picture.

Matt stopped and cocked his head. “You have a tree.”

“Of course I have a tree. Mother would—” She cut herself off. The last thing Matt wanted to hear about was what Mother expected out of Christmas. This year, Annie planned to make a few changes.

But she’d still put out Mother’s old Christmas lights. And she had still bought a Douglas fir instead of a blue spruce.

And she’d made the annual climb up to the attic for the ornaments. But when she’d gotten the boxes down to the front parlor, she’d lost the will to decorate. One look at her mother’s faded decorations, and she’d felt like her life was in a big rut.

She’d done the unthinkable—she’d carried all those old boxes right back up to the attic. If she’d been a braver woman, she would have carried them to the curb for the trash man.

Of course, she hadn’t done one thing about replacements. She had been putting all of that off. And suddenly, she realized that if she was going to take Matt up to Orangeburg tomorrow to visit Ruth, and still host a party for her friends from the book club, she was going to have to get her fanny in gear.

Matt pulled in a deep breath, drinking in the Christmas tree aroma. He squeezed his eyes closed and could almost hear Nick’s voice, talking about how he’d helped his grandmother trim her tree.

Annie’s tree was naked.

He put the cat down on the carpet. She darted under the sofa, where she crouched, looking up at him as if he’d abandoned her.

Stupid cat. She should realize that she had found a better home than he could provide. Annie’s house was like something out of a picture postcard. If Matt had had a grandmother, this is precisely the way he’d want her house to look.

Matt had a feeling that Nick’s grandma’s house had been like this, too.

He turned back toward Annie. She looked like a picture postcard too. Like Mom and apple pie. Like home.

“So,” he said on a deep breath, “your tree needs help, Annie Roberts.”

She gave him a bashful smile. “I guess it does.”

“I’m willing to work for my room and board. Just point me in the direction of the lights.”

She laughed. “Everything is up in the attic. Wait a sec, and I’ll go get the boxes.”

She scurried away up the stairs in the main hall, and he amused himself watching her shapely backside, clad in a pair of blue jeans, as she climbed to the second story.

Oh yeah, Annie Roberts was more than pretty. She was built. He could understand why Nick had had trouble forgetting her.

“No, cat!” Annie tried to pull the feline away from the string of lights that Matt was hanging on the tree.

“Maybe we should call her Pouncy,” he said with a deep, rumbling laugh.

He stood rock steady on the stepladder. He’d taken off his army jacket and wore only a tan-colored T-shirt that hugged his torso. He looked fit.

Okay, she was understating the fact. Matt looked gorgeous, and ripped, and competent standing there hanging tree lights.

The cat, on the other hand, looked like a menace on four feet. The kitten had gotten over her fear of the new environment and had decided that the Christmas tree and anything associated with it was her personal play toy.

Matt was no good at discouraging her either. He kept tugging on the string of lights, making them move suddenly in a way that the cat found irresistible. The kitten pounced ferociously on them and then backed up and pounced again.

The cat was growing on Annie.

But not as much as the man.

“So, you said you have a Christmas gift for Ruth?” she asked, purposefully raising the specter of Nick. She really needed to remember that Matt had come to do something that was going to make Ruth unspeakably sad. And then he would go away, just like Nick had done. Best to keep her distance.

“Yeah. Nick bought it for her a year and a half ago.”

“What is it?”

“I have no idea. I don’t even know where he bought it. I just know that I found it with his stuff after he died. I took it before the CO could lay his hands on it. Not exactly regulation, I know, but I kept thinking about Ruth getting Nick’s effects and finding it there. I thought it would be really crummy to get a gift and not have Nick there, you know? I thought it would be better to bring it myself.”

She studied him for a very long time. He was a pretty sensitive guy for a soldier. Her opinion of him rose a little more. “You waited a long time.”

He finished putting the lights on the tree and stepped down from the stepladder. “I was in Afghanistan. It was a long deployment.”

Annie unwrapped the angel that Mother always put on the top of the tree. The angel wore yellow velvet with gold trim, and her halo had been broken years and years ago. She handed the tree topper to Matt, and their fingers touched. Heat flooded through her, and the look of longing in Matt’s eyes told her that the reaction was mutual. Matt let go of a big breath, as if he’d been holding something inside. They stood there for the longest moment, their fingers touching across the angel. Eventually Annie let go, and Matt turned, stepped up the ladder, and put the angel in her place.

For some reason, the angel, even with her bent wings and broken halo, looked beautiful up there. Once, a long time ago, Annie had thought the angel was the most beautiful Christmas ornament ever. How had she forgotten that?

Matt turned back toward her, his eyes filled with joy. “I love doing this,” he said. “I haven’t had much experience trimming trees. My folks used to put a little fake tree on the kitchen table when I was a kid. We always lived in a pretty small apartment.”

Annie turned away, suddenly overcome by emotions she couldn’t name. Who was this stranger who had walked into her house with a cat and a heaping dose of holiday spirit?

He was the man who’d come to give Ruth a present she didn’t need or want.

But Annie could hardly explain that to Matt, could she? He’d come here first thing after the army let him go. Like delivering his gift was a kind of obligation.

She held her tongue and picked up a cardboard box filled with slightly tarnished glass balls. “Here, make yourself busy.”

He took the box and immediately set to work. She watched him for the longest moment before she said, “You know, Ruth isn’t in her right mind.”

He stopped. Turned. “No?”

Annie shook her head. “Hasn’t been since those army men came to her door with the news.”

He pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry about? It’s just the way it is. She’s been in a nursing home for more than a year. And according to what I heard from Doc Cooper, she’s not expected to live past New Year’s. She’s got congestive heart failure. It’s only a matter of time. But, you know, she’s alone now and almost ninety.”

He startled. His hands reflexively squeezed the box of ornaments.

Annie stood up. “Can I get you something? A cup of coffee? Some hot chocolate?”

He stood there, looking a little confused, his eyebrows cocked at a funny angle. “Uh, yeah. Some hot chocolate would be great.”

What was he doing here? He looked up at the little angel atop the tree. She didn’t seem to have an answer.

Just then the cat attacked his bootlace. He bent down and picked Pouncy up.

Annie was right. Pouncy was a stupid name. One day the kitten would grow up and quit pouncing on everything in sight.

He cuddled her closer and sat in the big armchair facing the front window. The lights on the tree looked festive. The cat curled up in his lap.

“Poor little stray, born out of season. Were you abandoned?” he asked the cat.

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?”

“The thing is my Christmases as a kid were crummy. They sucked. But Nick used to talk about Christmas all the time. He used to tell stories about how his grandmother made a big roast with mashed potatoes. He used to talk about his parents kissing under the mistletoe, before they died.” Matt’s voice wavered, and he stopped and took a big breath.

“So you thought you’d come and experience that?” Annie said.

He turned away and looked out the window that opened on to the back yard. The window had lacy curtains, and outside the rain was pouring down.

“My dog died three weeks ago,” he said in a voice that he could barely control. “They shipped me home, and because the dog died, they let me out a little early. I had already told them I wasn’t going to re-up. Now I just want…” He shook his head and pressed his lips together.

“Oh, Matt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Then he turned back toward Annie. “Losing the dog was hard. He wasn’t killed in action. He just got sick and had to be put down. He was getting old anyway, and I had planned for the two of us to retire together. But now I’m alone. And being a soldier is the only thing I know how to be.”

“Matt, every returning soldier has an adjustment period.”

“I know. But I came here looking for Ruth. I thought maybe she would have some wisdom for me, or at least maybe a slice of her apple pie. God, Nick used to talk about that pie all the time, especially when we were stuck eating MREs. And then I found her house all boarded up, and I was lost. I went to the church because I knew she was a member there. To be honest, I heard the cat yowling, and Holly kind of led me right there.”

“Really?”

He gave her a short nod. “And then I heard you singing, and it was like, for an instant I felt like I’d… well, hell… I don’t… like I’d come home. And that’s ridiculous because I don’t belong in Last Chance. I’m a street kid from Chicago.”

She blinked down at him but didn’t say a word.

“I’ve scared you again, haven’t I?”

“No, it’s more like I’m a little surprised. What was your dog’s name?”

“Murphy. He had liver failure. He’d been a pretty hard worker for six years. He saved a whole lot of lives over there, sniffing out IEDs. He was a good, hard-working, war dog.” Matt swallowed before the emotion ate him up.

“I’m sure he was. You know, you should take Holly. She’d be a comfort to you.”

He nodded and took a calming sip of his coffee. Annie really didn’t want that cat, did she?

“So, uh,” Annie said, “I have an early appointment at the Cut ’n’ Curl. I won’t be more than an hour at most.” She turned on her heel and strode out of the room like she was trying to escape his toxic emotions.

Matt watched her go. He really needed to get a grip. He probably needed to put that stupid gift under Annie’s tree and go see about taking a bus to someplace warm and sunny.

Annie’s appointment at the Cut ’n’ Curl was for nine in the morning, and even at that early hour several members of the Christ Church Ladies Auxiliary were already present and accounted for. It being both Saturday and Christmas Eve, Ruby Rhodes, Last Chance’s main hairdresser, had opened up an hour early.

Thelma Hanks was having her roots touched up. Lessie Anderson was in Ruby’s chair getting a wash and set, and Jane Rhodes, Ruby’s new daughter-in-law, was giving Miriam Randall a manicure.

“Hey, Annie,” Thelma Hanks said after Annie had hung her coat in the closet. Thelma had just looked up from one of those romance books Ruby kept on a shelf at the back of the shop. This particular book had a cover featuring a naked male torso.

“How are you doing, honey? Everything okay?” Thelma’s voice was laden with concern. All the women in the shop stopped what they were doing and watched Annie as she sat down in one of the dryer chairs. “What?” she asked, flicking her gaze from one woman to another.

“We’re just concerned, sugar,” Ruby said.

Ruby and her customers had been Mother’s friends. Mother had been an active member of the Auxiliary. She had a standing Wednesday appointment at the Cut ’n’ Curl, so it was just natural that they would be worried about Annie this Christmastime.

It was her first Christmas alone. And everyone seemed to be working hard to make sure she didn’t have a minute to be sad about it. She’d received invitations to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinner from Ruby, Lessie, Thelma, Miriam, and several of Mother’s other friends. She had declined them all and had invited some of the members of the book club to dinner instead.

Mother had not fully approved of the book club. She was living in the last century and looked down her nose at Nita and Kaylee, because of their race. But Annie had always counted them as friends, even in the face of Mother’s disapproval. And now Annie could invite whomever she wanted to dinner, without hearing Mother’s ugly complaints.

“I’m fine,” she said to the ladies in the beauty parlor. “I’ve got my tree all trimmed, and I’m going up to the Target in Orangeburg for some shopping this afternoon, and then Nita and Jenny and a few other friends from the book club are coming over for dinner before midnight services.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Ruby said, “what with Nita’s daughter being off in Atlanta this year. It’s nice the two of you are spending time together.”

“So, honey, have you taken my advice yet?” Miriam asked from her place at the manicure station.

Everyone turned to stare at Miriam. Today the little old lady was dressed in a pair of red plaid slacks and a red sweatshirt with a big graphic of Rudolf on its front. She had a pair of dangly Christmas tree earrings in her ears. Her eyes twinkled behind her 1950s-style trifocals.

Miriam was about eighty-five years old and widely regarded as Allenberg County’s premier matchmaker. Not that Miriam considered herself a matchmaker. She always told folks she was a match finder. She said God made the matches, but sometimes He would clue her in.

Her matchmaking advice sometimes resembled the messages you might find inside a fortune cookie. But the weird thing about Miriam’s marital forecasts was that they almost always came true.

“I declare,” Ruby said to Miriam, “when did you give Annie any advice?”

“Oh, I think it was last week after church.”

“And what advice did you give Annie?” Thelma leaned forward, her romance book forgotten.

“I told her to get a cat.”

“What?” Lessie turned her head, and the roller Ruby was trying to secure came undone.

“And I told her that I wasn’t so lonely that I needed a cat.” Annie folded her arms across her chest. “I need to get out and have a social life now that Mother’s gone. I don’t need a cat.”

“Miriam,” Ruby said, “you didn’t really tell Annie she needed a cat, did you?”

“What’s wrong with suggesting that she get a cat?” Miriam looked honestly surprised.

“Because you don’t tell a single lady of a certain age that she needs a cat. It’s, well…” Ruby’s voice trailed off.

“It’s pitiful,” Annie said into the silence. “It’s bad enough that I’m sleeping under a quilt my grandmother made and living in a house with old-fashioned mohair furniture. Getting a cat would be like sealing my fate.”

“Yes, exactly,” Miriam said.

Ruby, Lessie, and Thelma stared at Miriam as if she’d lost her mind. Miriam was a little quirky, but she’d never been mean.

Jane pulled Miriam’s hand out of the soaking solution and said, “Clay said something about a big soldier finding a cat in the manger down at the church last night. This guy came strolling into the sanctuary with a little kitten, interrupting choir practice, and Dale almost had a stroke.”

“Really?” Miriam asked. Somehow Miriam didn’t sound very surprised.

Everyone turned toward Annie. Her face flamed. “His name is Matt Jasper, and he did find a cat in the manger. He came in on the bus from Charlotte last night, and he was looking for Ruth Clausen.”

“Oh dear,” Ruby said. “Is he one of Nick’s army friends?”

“Yes, he is. He’s come here to deliver Nick’s last Christmas gift.”

“What?” the women asked in unison.

“Evidently, Nick bought Ruth’s present before he died last year. Matt has been carrying it around Afghanistan for a long time.”

“Oh my,” Thelma said. “He has no clue, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Did you tell him about Ruth?” Thelma asked.

“Well, I told him that she’d been sick and a little out of it. But I didn’t say anything else. He’s committed to making this delivery. It’s kind of sweet, actually. His heart’s in the right place.”

“So he didn’t spend the night at the motel, did he?” Jane asked.

“Uh, no, he didn’t.”

Miriam snorted. “See, I told ya’ll. Annie needed to get a cat. The Lord was very specific about that part.”

While Annie went to her appointment at the beauty shop, Matt showered and shaved and put on his civies. Holly kept him company, trailing after him like a little lost soul.

He and the cat were kind of alike. If anyone could understand how a man could come looking for a warm place by a holiday fire, it would be a stray cat.

But he didn’t really belong by Annie’s fire, did he? And what was the point of delivering Nick’s gift to his grandmother if she was senile and sick? How could that possibly brighten her day?

He’d come for his own selfish reasons, not to do any favors for Nick. And now, here he was, staying at Annie Roberts’s house, thinking things about her that he had no right to think.

He should leave, right now, and take the cat with him as a consolation prize. He started packing his bag. He had just brought the bag downstairs and set it in the corner when Annie’s key slipped into the front door.

She came prancing into the foyer like a young girl. She stopped just a few feet from where he was standing and gave him the biggest grin. She was red cheeked from the cold outside, and there was a spark of something in her eyes that hadn’t been there last night or even this morning. Something had changed. She seemed lit up from the inside.

“Uh,” he said, suddenly tongue-tied, “I was thinking that with Ruth so ill, it might be best if I just…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Holly pussyfooted across the floorboards and meowed a welcome. She rubbed up against Annie’s legs and tried to wrap herself around both of them simultaneously.

Annie laughed. The sound was so merry and full of life. She bent down and picked up the kitten. “You need some cat food and a litter box,” she said to Holly. “I hope you’re housebroken.”

She glanced up at Matt, and he had a feeling Annie was talking about something other than the cat.

“I understand your hesitation about Ruth,” she said, her blue eyes darkening with some emotion he couldn’t quite fathom. “But there’s no rush. The Ladies Auxiliary always visits up there on Christmas morning, and you could tag along with them. I offered to drive Miriam Randall and the rest of the ladies up there, since I don’t have a big family. So, if you want, we can all go together tomorrow morning. In the meantime, if you came to Last Chance for a Christmas like Nick loved, you’re free to stay here at my place. In fact, I could use some help with my errands.”

The tension he’d felt all morning suddenly eased. He’d been given permission to live out his deepest fantasy and let tomorrow slide. War had taught him the benefits of living in the moment. He didn’t have to think very hard about her offer.

“I’d be happy to help. But I’m warning you, I’m really inexperienced in this whole Christmas thing.”

“It’s okay. There are plenty of people in Last Chance willing to give you pointers on how to celebrate the season.”

Annie held out her hand, and he took it. It was small and warm, and it seemed to fit in his like it had been custom made.

They went to Orangeburg and practically bought out the Target there. Annie seemed to be hell-bent on taking advantage of every cut-rate deal on Christmas decorations. It being Christmas Eve, she made a few spectacular bargains—especially on a glow-from-the-inside snowman that had caught Matt’s fancy. She had refused to let him buy it for her. She told him she needed to spruce up her lighting display before the neighbors complained about her lack of imagination.

She also bought some new sheets and a blanket—a move that made Matt just a little bit uncomfortable, since she asked his opinion on every choice. When he’d wrinkled his nose at the girly flowers on one set of sheets, she’d changed her mind about them.

Shopping for sheets with Annie was definitely sexier than it probably should be. He kept thinking about what it might be like to lie down on those new sheets with this amazing woman.

He needed to watch it. She had been Nick’s girlfriend, and he was already perilously close to losing his grip on the real world.

Annie was brimming over with good cheer. Her day with Holly and Matt had been so happy. But then she could hardly fail. Miriam Randall hadn’t been speaking literally last week in church. She’d been finding Annie a match.

And Annie couldn’t be more pleased with the way things were going. Matt was tall, dark, and handsome. He was kind, and he seemed to understand the inherent problem associated with his grim chore. And yet she got the feeling he still wanted to deliver that present, even if he wondered whether it was the right thing to do. His conflict made him all the more loveable. And she knew she was falling for him. Maybe she did believe in love at first sight after all.

When they got home from shopping, she put him to work finishing the decorating and setting up the big glow-in-the-dark snowman they had purchased.

The snowman was silly and a little tacky. But it reminded her of the few years she’d spent in Michigan at college. Those had been happy years, before Mother had come down with rheumatoid arthritis. Before Dad had died. Before her future had been hijacked by circumstances beyond her control.

Matt had fallen in love with the snowman too. He said if he couldn’t have real snow in Last Chance, he’d go for the fake kind.

Of course, Mother would never have approved of the snowman, the cat, or the soldier, which made all of them welcome additions to Annie’s holiday. Nothing about this Christmas was going to be like last year.

And having Matt around, lapping up all the holiday cheer, made everything seem a little more joyful. He had so many reasons to be sad, having lost his dog this year and his best friend last year, but he seemed determined to let the joy of Christmas in. And his joy was infectious.

Nita Wills was the first member of the book club to arrive at Annie’s dinner party, with Cathy close on her heels. Both of them seemed more impressed and surprised by the snowman than the cat or the soldier.

“Well, Annie,” Nita said as she put a plate of gingerbread cookies on the buffet table, “it sure does look like Santa has been good to you this Christmas.”

Annie didn’t have a minute to respond before Elsie and Lola May arrived, followed very closely by Jenny Carpenter. Jenny, of course, came bearing apple and shepherd’s pies. Jenny’s pies were to die for, and Matt seemed more than a little interested in both of her offerings.

Annie stifled the strange, unwanted wave of jealousy. And she was soon busy playing hostess when Kaylee and Nomi arrived each bearing matching bean casseroles.

The women gathered around the buffet and filled their cups with eggnog and Christmas punch—two things Mother would never have allowed in her home at holiday time. They laughed and chatted about Barbara Kingsolver’s latest book. All in all, the house hadn’t seen so many people in years, and Annie was feeling happy and free and flushed with Christmas spirit.

Then Nita scooped Holly up from the easy chair and sat down. She held the kitten up for inspection. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest, dirty-faced matchmaker in Last Chance?” she said aloud.

The women of the book club collectively laughed, and Annie felt suddenly stripped naked. She glanced over at Matt to see if he’d heard what Last Chance’s librarian had said.

Apparently he had, because Nita hadn’t used her librarian voice. Matt’s dark stare zeroed in on Nita, and his eyebrows bunched up in the middle.

Elsie gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t you mind Nita, now. She’s just talking about how Miriam Randall told Annie that she needed to get a cat.”

Matt’s frown deepened.

“See,” Cathy explained, “Miriam has a pipeline to the Lord, and when she gives advice, it’s always right.”

“Exactly,” Lola May said. “And that just means that you and Annie are a match made in heaven.”

Matt turned his dark gaze on Annie. Her heartbeat raced, but whether in embarrassment or desire she wasn’t sure. It was insane to think that Matt was destined to become her lover, just because he’d found a cat in a manger.

But hadn’t she been behaving like that all day?

“Uh, ladies, I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” Matt said. “I just came here to deliver a gift to Ruth Clausen.”

“And have you delivered it yet?” Nita asked.

Matt scratched the back of his head and glanced at Annie. “Uh, no. I kind of got involved with a bunch of errands. I’m going up to Orangeburg tomorrow for that chore.”

Nita spoke again. “Do you think that’s wise?”

“I don’t know. But I’ve been lugging that thing all over Afghanistan. I think it needs to find its way home.”

Nita nodded. “Well, I guess I can understand that. And I admire you for bringing it to Ruth personally. You didn’t have to do that.” She gazed at the kitten. “Well, one thing is for sure, this cat is cute,” she said.

The members of the book club went back to chatting and grazing at the buffet.

Matt strolled over to where Annie was standing, his dark eyes filled with emotions that weren’t very merry.

“I can explain about the matchmaker,” she said. “See—”

“I know all about Miriam Randall,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Nick told me all about her. He seemed to think she was infallible. He told me once that he was very sorry Miriam hadn’t matched him up permanently with you. You should know that Nick really regretted what happened between the two of you.”

“He wanted to be a soldier. He wanted to leave this town, Matt. That’s all he ever talked about. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in love with a soldier or a man with wanderlust in his soul.”

“I know all about what happened. I know how you guys fought that night at the motel. I know how he walked away in a huff. He told me everything.”

“He told you all that?”

“He told me a lot of things. You talk about things when you’re getting shot at. And God knows, we got shot at a lot when we were in Baghdad on our first deployment. You were the girl he never forgot, Annie. You’re the girl he regretted. The one he missed. He never married, you know.”

They stared at each other for a long emotion-filled moment; then he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. She saw what was coming and turned her head to meet his lips. It was a pretty brazen thing to do, given the fact that Matt had been talking about how Nick had loved her. But Nick had walked away twenty years ago and never come back.

Annie tried, for all she was worth, to take the kiss a little deeper, but Matt pulled back. He looked up. “So, ah, that’s what mistletoe is all about, huh?”

Annie followed his gaze. Sure enough they were standing under a sprig of the stuff. Disappointment swallowed up her Christmas merriment.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “seeing as you were standing there under the mistletoe.”

“Do you remember what you said last night?” she whispered.

“Yeah, I remember. I was insane last night. I don’t know what came over me.” He let go of a long breath and turned to look at Mother’s parlor, filled with the members of the book club.

“I don’t belong here. This is Nick’s place, not mine.”

“But—”

He turned and held up his hand. “I’m a guy from Chicago, Annie. And they don’t have snow here. I’ll probably go back to the Midwest and see if I can get a job as a dog handler someplace like Milwaukee or St. Louis. There isn’t anything for me in Last Chance. I just came here because I wanted to see if Nick’s stories were true. I wanted to meet his grandmother. So I’m going to go up there to the nursing home tomorrow. I’ll pay my respects, deliver Nick’s present, and be on my way.”

“But—”

“Annie, I’m not your soul mate, no matter what Miriam Randall says. And don’t you go mistaking me for Nick Clausen either. Because I’m not him. If you believe in what they say about Miriam, you should keep the cat. I’m guessing that there’s a handsome veterinarian in your future.”

Matt went to midnight services along with all the members of the book club. He sat in the back of the church. He wasn’t a believer. He was out of step with the people who came to celebrate the birth of Jesus that night.

The only thing that kept him in his place was the choir.

When they sang the “Hallelujah Chorus,” Matt’s skin prickled. But that reaction was nothing compared to what happened when Annie sang her solo, especially when she got to the last couple of lines.

There seemed to be a message in that song, even for an unbeliever. He needed to firm his resolve, push his own needs aside, and visit Ruth tomorrow. Nick had wanted his grandmother to have a Christmas gift last year, and Matt had kept it from her. He needed to go and let her know just what a good friend Nick had been.

Early the next morning, after a night of very little sleep, Matt found himself in the Christ Church van, sandwiched between Miriam Randall and another, equally ancient church lady. Making good on her promises, as Matt suspected she always did, Annie took the wheel of the van and drove everyone up to Orangeburg.

The church ladies came laden down with gifts like the wisemen. They carried cookies and gingerbread and a bundle of quilts the size of pillowcases that they called prayer blankets. He was literally surrounded by a bevy of ancient angels of mercy.

Within an hour, he stood alone on the threshold of Ruth Clausen’s room at the nursing home, holding a brightly wrapped shirt box in his hands. The box wasn’t very heavy, nor did it rattle. It was surely something to wear—something Ruth Clausen, now consigned to this small room, didn’t need anymore.

He stepped up to the bed. The old lady looked pale and tiny, her gray hair thin. She had an oxygen tube hooked over her ears. She seemed to be having trouble breathing.

“Ruth,” Matt said gently.

She opened a pair of hazel eyes, the exact same color as Nick’s. Man, staring into those eyes threw him for a loop. They seemed clear and aware and alive.

A little smile quivered at the corner of her lips. “Nicky, you’re home,” she said.

Matt opened his mouth to correct her. But just as he was about to speak, something came over him. He flashed on the sound of Annie’s voice singing that carol from the night before. He said not one word.

Instead, he pulled up the chair and took Ruth’s hand in his. Her skin was paper-thin, her hand cold. He rubbed it between his.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Ruth said.

“Me too, but you didn’t expect me to miss Christmas, did you?”

“Christmas?” Ruth’s voice sounded frail and confused. Her eyes dulled a little.

“Yes, Grandma, it’s Christmas. The best time of year. You remember that year when we had the snow?”

She nodded, and her lips quivered. “It wasn’t really snow, Nicky, just a dusting.”

“I made a snowman.”

“It was three inches tall.”

“It was still a snowman. Size is not that important, Grandma.”

She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I love you, boy, you know that?”

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Matt said; then he launched into one of Nick’s favorite Christmas stories that involved a dog named Gonzo and an apple pie that disappeared when no one was looking.

Ruth enjoyed that story, and the five other Christmas stories Matt told her as if they belonged to him.

At some point, just as Ruth was beginning to fade off into sleep, he became aware of someone behind him. He turned and found Annie and Miriam standing in the doorway of the room. He had no idea how long they had been there listening. Both of them had tears in their eyes.

“So,” Miriam whispered, “you going to give her that present or not?”

Matt realized that he hadn’t said a word about Nick’s present. It still rested on his lap.

Suddenly the present seemed kind of stupid. Ruth didn’t need or want a present like this. All Ruth wanted for Christmas was Nick. And in a way Nick lived on, in the stories he’d told when the bullets had been flying or the boredom had set in. Matt knew them all by heart.

He couldn’t bear to look at Annie or Miriam because his own eyes were overflowing with the tears he’d been holding back for a long, long time.

Annie strode into the room, bent over, and put her arms around his shoulders. Her hair spilled over him like a veil. “You’re staying, of course,” she murmured in his ear. “I couldn’t imagine Christmas without you.”

“But—”

“But nothing. You aren’t Nick. I know that even if Ruth doesn’t. You’re kinder than Nick ever was. And you came home, when all Nick ever wanted was to wander the world. He may have told great stories, Matt, but he left Ruth alone. He walked away from me and everyone he loved in Last Chance. He never came back to visit, even when he wasn’t on deployment. Instead, every year, he sent Ruth a Christmas present, as if that were enough. They came like clockwork. She always put them in the charity box. She never even unwrapped them.”

“You knew this all along and you didn’t tell me?”

“We all knew it. Why do you think I asked you about your reasons for coming? Why do you think Nita questioned your motives last night? I guess once you explained yourself everyone understood that you’d come here looking for something Nick had thrown away without really looking back. No one wanted to dash your illusions. Not after what you’d been through.”

“And,” Miriam said, “it sure does look like Nick’s last present was maybe the best one he ever sent home.”

Matt closed his eyes and leaned in to Annie. Miriam was wrong. If there had been a gift given this Christmas, it had been what Annie had given him the last few days—a Christmas he would never forget.

And a warm, welcoming place to come home to.