Their Christmas Miracle. Barbara Wallace
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“You don’t think I need you?”
“You’re not a little girl.” On the contrary, there was nothing little about him. “And, there’s no guarantee you and I will be able to reconnect. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. I’d feel better going in if I knew I had the freedom to...”
“Leave.”
“Yes. I mean, no. I wouldn’t leave Maddie.”
“Just me.”
Did he have to say the words in such a flat voice? It left a guilty knot in her stomach. “The plan sounded much better in my head.” Certainly less callous. She needed to remember that as far as he was concerned, she was the woman he loved. “I don’t mean to imply that I’m not going to try. I’m just...”
“Scared.” The softness in his voice allowed the word to wash over her with relief.
“Terrified,” she replied. Trading the known for the unknown? Who wouldn’t be? “I have no idea what I’m jumping into.”
“So you want an end date in case things don’t work out.”
“More like a potential end date. A point where both of us can step back and reassess. You’ve got to admit it’s not your run-of-the-mill situation.”
“No, it definitely is not.”
Rosalind let out a breath. He understood. This was the only way she could think of to maintain some control.
“How long do you envision this trial visit of yours lasting?”
“Over Christmas and New Year at least,” she said. “I don’t want to do anything until after the New Year. Giving Maddie a happy Christmas is my first priority.”
“Mine too.”
“Then we’re agreed. We’ll spend the next few weeks focused on our daughter and Christmas and see where things stand in January.”
“That gives us three weeks.” It was clear he didn’t like the idea. To his credit, however, he didn’t argue. Their daughter’s Christmas clearly was a priority.
“Twenty-one days,” she replied. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll remember everything as soon as I walk through the front door, and this whole conversation will be moot.” Stranger things had happened, right?
“Have you remembered anything?”
She shook her head. “No. Not really. A few of the photos felt familiar, but I think that was more wishful thinking. I’m sorry.”
The ground crunched beneath their feet. “You have nothing to apologize for, Rosalind.”
But she felt like she did. She felt terrible that she couldn’t remember her family and even more terrible that she wasn’t bouncing with excitement over having found her way home.
“It’s not like I don’t want to remember. I do.” Ever since he’d appeared in the restaurant, she’d been praying for the floodgates to open and erase the blankness. The only response she’d received was her heart pounding with anxiety.
“I believe you, and I’ll try not to push.”
“Thank you.” The tension in her shoulders started to ease.
“But...”
And, tensed right back up again. Stopping beneath a large blue branch, she turned to look him straight on. Her heart was starting to race. “But what?”
“I won’t push about your memory, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and win you over. You should know that between now and Christmas, I plan on charming the socks off you. You’ll be too enamored by me to even think of leaving.”
“Is that so?” She crossed her arms and did her best to sound unimpressed. Difficult since his cocksure attitude actually was impressive. And charming.
“Oh, most definitely, Mrs Collier.” He upped the charm by saying the moniker with a silky-smooth lilt. “Most definitely. In fact...”
His blue eyes bore into her. Out of the corner of her eye, Rosalind saw him raise his hand making her think he planned to reach out and touch her. She held her breath.
He kept his distance. His stare didn’t waver. “In fact,” he repeated, “I’m going to start tonight.”
NO ONE WOULD ever accuse Thomas of giving less than 100 percent. If anything, people accused him of being overly dedicated. When he committed to something, he went all in. Right now, that something was wooing his wife. He intended to do his damnedest to win her over before the New Year. Before she recalled the cracks. Back in the beginning, he’d been a pro at grand romantic gestures. While his inner romantic might be rusty, it was still there. Somewhere.
Taking Rosalind’s hand, he led her back the short walk to the town limits where McKringle’s sat empty as ever. Honest to God, how the business survived was beyond him.
The restaurant owner, of course, was more than happy to help. He packed a small bag while Rosalind did her best to make him insist she stay to work. Unfortunately for her, the restaurant was nearly empty. The only customers were a pair of short, reedy gentlemen drinking beer at the bar. When the older man rushed Rosalind and Thomas out the door with a cheery smile, she looked practically panicked.
“Relax,” Thomas said as they walked to his rental car. “I promise I’m not about to take you into the wilderness and chop you into little bits.”
“I know that,” she replied.
Could have fooled him. She looked about as excited as a serial killer victim. Seeing her reluctance stung. When had his own wife become afraid of him?
Since she forgot she was your wife, that’s when.
As far as she was concerned, he was a stranger, and one prone to impetuous embraces at that. “Would it help if I promise not to wrap you in my arms either?” he asked. Much as he wanted to.
His question got the corners of her mouth to twitch, at least.
“You know, this whole trip would go a lot better if you trust me,” he said once they were underway. The rental had an incredibly responsive heating system, so he bumped up the temperature, figuring a little warmth in the air might relax things.
“I’d feel better if I knew where we were going.”
Ah, he’d forgotten. Rosalind preferred to control her surprises. All right, he’d tell her. “Have you ever seen the aurora borealis?”
Despite the dark interior, he could feel her stare. The northern lights were visible on most clear nights during this time of year. Every person in the village