eyes widened. “You do?”
He nodded. “Not a present as such... Well, hold on. I’ll get it and explain.”
He made a quick trip to his room and grabbed the shopping bag from his closet. There was no guarantee she would go for it, but he hoped she would. Hope needed to let her hair down and show some silliness. They needed to have fun, and he had to stop thinking about her in ways that would get him nowhere. Their kisses before had been surprising and spontaneous, but there was something more now. A gravity between them. He couldn’t quite put his finger on when or how it had changed but there was something—something important and a little sad and slightly desperate in these last twenty-four hours before her departure.
Back in her room, he handed her the bag. “I’m dressing up as Santa tonight and handing out some small presents to the kids. I was kind of hoping you would help.”
She opened the bag and stared at the contents. “This is...” She put the bag down on the bed and drew out a hat, green-and-red striped, with a bell on the end. “This is an elf hat.”
“Santa needs an elf,” he said lightly, but he wasn’t encouraged when he saw her frown.
She pulled out the tunic and tights and his favorite bit—the shoes, curled up at the toes and with bells attached to the tips.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Hey, at least you don’t have to stuff your costume with pillows and wear a scratchy beard,” he remarked, forcing a chuckle.
“You do realize I was hired to take pictures?”
“I know that. I thought over the last few days that had changed into something more.” He remembered hearing her laugh as he tackled her in the snow, the taste of her lips all the sweeter because she’d been a willing and equal participant. He took her hand. “I thought we were something more,” he said quietly.
“You know that’s impossible.”
And yet there was a hint of longing in her voice that he didn’t miss. “So we’re not friends?”
She pulled her hand away. “I didn’t think that was what you meant. I hadn’t really thought about it,” she said, but her gaze slid from his. She had thought about it. They both had—too much.
“Have you never done something silly? Something just for fun, Hope? Have you seen the look on a kid’s face when he or she sits on Santa’s lap? It’s Christmas. I want to give them something awesome—there’s not enough fun in their lives. And I want to give you something, too.”
“What’s that?” She put the costume back on the bed and faced him, her guard fully up and functional again.
“A memory,” he said. “A good Christmas memory. Because I think you need one—desperately.”
The guard slipped just a little as her eyes widened and he saw his chance.
“Trust me.” He lifted his hand and touched her cheek with his finger. “Can you trust me for tonight, Hope?”
“I leave tomorrow, Blake.”
“I know that. Believe me, I know.” He wished he had more time. Time to get to know her better. Time to...
Aw, hell. Maybe it was better this way. He was already getting too involved. Much more and she’d really be able to hurt him. He knew for a fact that she wouldn’t be back. She’d go back to her life in Sydney and that would be that, wouldn’t it? Girls like her didn’t stay. They didn’t settle.
But it didn’t stop the wanting. Or the need to do this for her. For all of them.
“Trust me,” he repeated. “Wear the costume. Be my elf. Drink hot cocoa and eat cookies and let yourself be a kid again, Hope. Just this once.”
She looked down at the costume and back up at him again. “You are so going to owe me for this.”
And he was going to enjoy paying the price. “You’ll do it?”
“I’ll do it. For the kids, mind you.”
“For the kids,” he repeated. “You’d better get back to your cookies.”
“The cookies! They’ve probably burned!” She rushed from the room, leaving the elf costume scattered on the bedspread and the scent of her perfume and dark chocolate behind.
He shook the bag of bells and smiled as the sound rang out. If this was the end of their time together he was at least going to give her a good memory to take away. He’d deal with his own feelings later.
* * *
Anna had saved the cookies from burning, and Hope had baked the rest without incident. They sat prettily on a plate now, dusted with icing sugar like snowy mountaintops. Hope had sneaked one earlier and they tasted as delicious as when Gram made them, making her long for the comforts of the one place she truly considered home.
Blake had remained scarce for most of the afternoon, getting the chores done ahead of his guests’ arrival.
At three-thirty the kids and parents started arriving, and the house became a hubbub of activity as Anna set out a Crock-Pot of hot cider, carafes of hot chocolate, plates of cookies and bowls of potato chips and pretzels.
Hope hadn’t yet changed into her costume, and questioned whether or not she would. She would look ridiculous. Like an overgrown female Peter Pan with bells.
But when it came down to it she’d probably play along. She couldn’t escape the memory of the look on Blake’s face as he’d implored her to help him. Lordy, he was so handsome—and kind. She’d stopped noticing his scar days ago. What had once been ugly was now simply a part of the bigger whole, and that whole was something really special.
The carols playing on the stereo could barely be heard over the chatter and happy laughter of the kids. Cate arrived, using her crutches to get around, and Hope felt a surge of pleasure knowing that the little girl would have her sleigh ride complete with bells.
Hope looked around the busy room with a lump in her throat. This was how things should be, she realized. Loud and crazy and happy, with the sound of children’s voices echoing through the house and the lingering scent of fresh-baked cookies in the air. It all felt so right that it caused an ache deep inside her. This was what she’d wanted for her sisters. For herself. And despite Gram’s best efforts, and Hope’s, it had never quite come to pass. But here—here it happened so effortlessly.
It was a bit of a miracle, really, and she wondered if Blake truly appreciated the magnitude of what he was doing with Bighorn. It was more than therapy. It was home. This was his family, she realized. Not by blood, but by love. He was the cord that bound them all together.
She blinked away a sheen of moisture on her eyes. If she wasn’t careful she was going to leave a bit of herself behind when she left, and she wasn’t sure she had too many pieces to spare.
“Ready for the first sleigh ride?” Blake’s voice sounded close to her ear, the warmth of his breath sending tingles over her neck and down her spine.
“There’s more than one?”
“I’ll
