in the world, and that’s you.”
Libby’s hand fell to the bed and she smiled with sleepy secretiveness. “You just wait. I wrote a note to Santa to tell him what we want, but I didn’t give it to you to mail. I mailed it all by myself so you wouldn’t know the secret.”
“Enough talk of Santa and secrets,” Melody said. “Now it’s time to sleep.”
Libby nodded and closed her eyes, and before Melody left the side of her bed, Libby fell asleep.
Whatever Libby had asked Santa for Christmas, she hoped she had it in the trunk of her car, because there was nothing worse than a disappointed six-year-old at Christmas time.
It was just after eleven when she’d wrapped the final present and tucked it back into the trunk of her car. Still wide-awake, she sat down on the sofa and stared at the Christmas tree that had yet to be decorated.
Christmas Eve she and Libby would pull out the ornaments and tinsel, the twinkling lights and the angel to dress the tree. The past two Christmases had been bittersweet, as they’d pulled out ornaments that Seth had bought to make the perfect cowboy Christmas tree.
There were hats and boots, saddles and horses, and each and every one of them reminded both Libby and Melody of what it had been like to be a real, complete family.
Maybe this year she wouldn’t use those particular ornaments. Instead they’d string popcorn and use ribbon and mistletoe and make aluminum-foil stars and do an old-fashioned tree.
Why continue reminding themselves of what they’d lost? New beginnings and new decorations, she thought drowsily. The impromptu meal with Jake had been nice, but she would never seriously entertain a relationship with a cowboy again.
Still, as she fell asleep, it wasn’t visions of sugarplums that danced in her head; rather, it was the hot, handsome Jake who invaded her dreams.
“LIBBY, YOU CAN’T wear your tap shoes to town,” Melody told her daughter for the third time.
“But I like the way they sound on the sidewalks,” Libby replied.
Melody gathered her coat around her and sat on the sofa. “You have two choices. You can either change your shoes and we’ll go to town, or you can keep your tap shoes on and we’ll just stay home. It’s your decision.”
Libby frowned thoughtfully. “I think I’ll go change my shoes.” She quickly disappeared down the hallway to her bedroom.
Melody had learned long ago that Libby responded best when given the option to make her own decision, and usually Libby made the right decision when faced with choices and consequences.
Melody was looking forward to spending the day wandering in and out of the shops. There was nothing particular she wanted or needed to buy, but if something caught her or Libby’s eye she had a little mad money tucked into her purse.
Libby returned, this time wearing a pair of black boots that were perfect for the cold weather and a long day of walking. She pulled on her bright blue coat, and together mother and daughter left the house.
“Do you think it will snow before Christmas?” Libby asked as she looked out the passenger window of the car.
“According to the weatherman, we’re supposed to have a white Christmas.”
Libby clapped her hands together. “Then on Christmas Day we can make a snowman with a carrot nose and red gumdrops for a mouth and some of my blue sequins for eyes.”
Melody laughed. “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this snowman.”
“Everything is going to be just perfect this Christmas,” Libby replied with a smug smile. “You just wait until you see what Santa Claus brings for us, and then we’ll both be so happy.”
“Then I can’t wait,” Melody replied lightly, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it was her daughter expected to happen when Santa came.
By the time she found a parking place smack-dab in the middle of Main Street, Libby had already moved on to talking about the different stores she wanted to visit.
It was just after ten and already the sidewalks bustled with people. An energy filled the air, the energy of only seven days left until Christmas Day. While most of the people who shared the sidewalks walked with purpose, as if knowing what needed to be bought and determined to get it done, Libby and Melody walked hand in hand and at a slower pace.
“Carrie’s Christmas Shop first,” Libby said as they approached the store.
Their entry into the store was announced by the tinkle of bells, and the scent of cinnamon and spices filled the shop. “Mmm, it smells good in here,” Libby said, and then raced forward to watch a miniature train making its way around the base of a beautifully decorated tree.
“Isn’t it cute, Mom?” Libby said. “And the tree is so pretty.”
“It is, but remember that I told you that this year we’re having an old-fashioned tree? We’ll spend Christmas Eve having so much fun decorating it.”
“Hi, Melody,” Carrie, the proprietor of the store, greeted her. Carrie’s thirteen-year-old daughter took dance lessons at Melody’s.
“Hey, Carrie. Libby and I decided to do a little window-shopping today, but I have a feeling I’m not going to get out of here without buying whatever it is that smells so wonderful,” Melody replied.
“It’s probably the cinnamon candles. Don’t they smell lovely?”
Melody cast a quick glance at her daughter, who had drifted off to a display of teddy bears. “Remember, Libby, we don’t touch.”
“I know.” Libby shoved her hands in her coat pockets. “I’m just looking.”
“She’s so cute,” Carrie said, and sidled closer to Melody. “I heard a little tidbit of gossip this morning that was very interesting. It had to do with you and Jake Hanson.”
Melody felt her cheeks fill with the warmth of a blush. “It was just an impromptu quick dinner at the café. Goodness, news travels fast around here.”
Carrie laughed. “Especially when it involves Jake Hanson and any woman. He’s been the town hermit since his wife died five years ago.”
“Oh, he’s a widower?” Melody hadn’t heard about him having had a wife.
“Stacy died in a car accident.... It was just around this time of the year.” Carrie frowned. “As I remember, it was a bad winter and we had an ice storm. Stacy had come into town to do some last-minute shopping, and on her way home a semitruck scissored in front of her and she hit it.”
“How tragic.” Melody’s heart squeezed tight as she thought about the man she’d shared her meal with the night before. No wonder he’d said he hated Christmas. She would forever hate rodeos because it had been at one of those events that Seth had died. But it was much easier for her to avoid rodeos than for Jake to avoid Christmas, especially in this town.
