CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Amelia
Christmas lunch happened an hour after midday. The first course was a winter salad, supplied by Reese. It was delicious. Sweet, sour and crunchy, I made a mental note to ask her for the recipe.
“I’ll have to fetch the roast,” Brett smiled. He was seated one place down from me. I was beside Josh, Reese on my right. Carson was across the table.
“Let me help,” he said. He had been watching me covertly through lunch and I felt my heart lurch as he stood, as if even temporary loss of his presence was hard to bear. I grinned at myself.
Brett and Carson appeared a few minutes later, bearing trays of roast vegetables and meat, for those who ate it. I breathed in the savory scents and felt my mouth water expectantly.
“I have to give credit to Carson for the vegetables,” Brett admitted.
“Brett, giving me credit? Wow!” Carson grinned, teasing his friend. “Not really, Brett. I’m glad you prepared the meat—it’s better than I would have done with it.”
“We haven’t tasted it yet,” Reese said blankly, making everyone laugh.
“I did,” Carson said.
“He stole a bit while we were cutting it,” Brett grinned. We all laughed again.
I remembered my gravy and went to fetch it, ladling it out over the meat and vegetables. As I bent over beside Carson, his cologne intoxicating me, I smiled.
“You didn’t used to cook vegetables?”
“I was inspired to learn,” he said, his eyes on mine.
I swallowed. I had stopped eating meat at round about the time I met him. Had he remembered for all these years? Something so simple said volumes.
“I also want some gravy,” Josh grinned from around the table.
“Patience, partner,” Carson teased. We all chuckled.
“The patient person proves the pudding,” Brett opined. He grinned.
“Pudding!” Josh declared. I breathed in, smelling the delicious, spicy fragrance that wafted from the kitchen as I gave Josh his gravy.
“It smells great, Reese,” I mentioned.
“I hope it isn’t burned.” She grimaced wryly.
“It smells wonderful,” Brett assured her.
We ate the main course slowly. There was much exchange of compliments.
“The sauce is great.”
I smiled at Carson. “You should teach me how to make this,” I commented, indicating the mix of roast vegetables he’d prepared.
“I’d be pleased to.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“Can I have more gravy?” Brett interrupted.
“I thought you weren’t sure if you’d like it?” I teased.
“Well, strawberry jam seemed weird to me.”
“Well, it seems to work,” I said contentedly. He laughed.
“Okay, I’m no longer a skeptic!”
I grinned and supplied the extra sauce.
We moved on to the dessert—again, courtesy of Reese—and I sighed contentedly as I ate my favorite seasonal thing: Christmas pudding. Afterward, as we all sat around, too full to really do anything but sip coffee and wait for our digestion to relieve us of comfortable aches in the belly, Carson stood quickly.
“Sorry, guys. Phone. Be right back…”
As he rushed out into the hallway, I frowned. I caught that same odd look on the face of my brother as had been there before and a little unease moved through me.
It’s Christmas day. It could be his mom, some relative. A friend.
I still felt uneasy, though, and only felt better when he came back to the table after a while.
He looked strained, his face tight. He looked at me, but his eyes held a question. I shivered.
Don’t be silly, Miss Carlyle. It’s nothing bad.
I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, letting the mood from earlier fill me. I could still smell ginger and custard and I was delightfully full, the sweet coffee slowly bringing me to my senses. I could hear Christmas carols on the radio and Josh and Cayley giggling as they tried to solve the brainteasers from their grandmother’s parcel.
My eyes half closed, I let myself forget my residual worries and remember the magic of the day. My hand moved to my pocket and my heart thumped as I felt the shape of the gift I left there.
I looked across the table, a soft smile on my face, and caught Carson looking at me, an expression of such sweetness on his face that my heart clenched; and I knew that, whatever happened, I would never forget this Christmas time.