Mistletoe Mine (7 page)

Jared’s stare fastened on the paper. “She set us up, didn’t she?”

Emma scanned the sheet. “I’m going to wring her neck.”

“What does it say?”

She read aloud: “ ‘Dear Mom and Dad, One of my first memories of Christmas is of the two of you locking lips beneath the mistletoe, so I know that you are not unaware of this particular tradition. What you might not know is a little piece of mistletoe history I discovered. You’ve always made me proud of my Scandinavian heritage, but never more so than now. Mom, Dad, are you aware that in Scandinavia, mistletoe was considered to be a plant of peace, and that under the mistletoe, enemies could declare a truce, and’ ”—Emma glanced up. “She underlined
and
three times. ‘And underneath the mistletoe, warring spouses can kiss and make up. It’s true. I read it on Wikipedia.’ ”

Jared groaned aloud.

Emma continued reading. “ ‘So, Mom and Dad, Stubborn and Intractable, here’s your chance. You are under the mistletoe, and neither one of you has to surrender. All you have to do is call a truce and talk. You haven’t talked to each other—really talked—in years. Don’t you think it’s time you did? That’s the real gift you can give me for Christmas. Do that, and I’ll know and you’ll know that divorce truly is the right step for you. Do this, Mom and Dad, if not for yourselves then for me. Please? Take advantage of this Christmas season and the message we all heard at the Christmas pageant the other night—peace on earth, goodwill toward men. Take advantage of the mistletoe. You might as well. And ask each other about the Christmas gifts you bought for each other. You have two hours of time to kill. Love, Molly.’ ”

“Time to kill?” Jared muttered. “What about a daughter?”

Emma lifted her gaze from the letter and looked at her husband. Really looked at him. He had his hands shoved into his coat pockets and his jaw set defensively. But there was something in his eyes, a look that told her he wasn’t entirely against the idea of a talk.

She realized that neither was she.

Emma took a deep breath and the first step. “We shouldn’t allow her to manipulate us this way.”

“You’re probably right,” he replied.

“Probably,” she emphasized.

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Probably.”

That was a tease, the first one she’d seen from him in forever. Since before Frank died, certainly. Emma’s pulse began to pound.

She waited. She’d taken the first step, right? He could darn well take the next one. She folded her arms and made a significant glance toward the ceiling.

He shocked her speechless when he took two bold steps forward, then swooped in to kiss her once, briefly but firmly, on the mouth. “Pax, Emma.”

She closed her eyes. The spark of hope within her flickered to a flame. She licked her lips, tasted him. “Pax, Jared.”

Stepping away, he said, “Where do we start?”

She released a heavy sigh. “I guess everything started with Frank.”

* * *

Frank
.

At the sound of his brother-in-law’s name, the old feelings rolled through him. Anger. Fury. The sting of betrayal. The passage of time had dulled them to some extent, but they were far from extinguished. “I don’t want to talk about your brother.”

Emma’s chest rose as she drew in a deep breath. “I think that’s been part of the problem.”

Jared winced. She was right. They’d had their one rip-roaring fight and then never discussed the situation again. “I’m still angry at him, Emma.”

“So am I. He wronged both of us terribly, but that doesn’t mean I don’t mourn him. That doesn’t mean that I don’t still love him.”

Jared’s mouth flattened into a grim smile. “Loving someone doesn’t preclude being furious at him.”

To his surprise, Emma laughed. “Yes, Jared, I know.”

He met her gaze and saw warmth in her big blue eyes, and the tension within him eased. Hope lifted his heart. “What is it that you want to say about Frank?”

“Will you listen to me this time, Jared? Really listen to me?”

This was his chance, he realized. It was their chance. If they didn’t make it through this conversation, he knew they’d never reconcile.

“Yes, I’ll listen.”

She blew out a heavy breath. “Okay, then. The first thing I want to say is that I apologize. It was wrong of me to try to hide Frank’s problem from you. I was an enabler, and in the end, that hurt my brother worse than doing nothing.”

Exactly
. Jared kept the thought to himself. He knew that giving it voice would be counterproductive at this point.

“However,” Emma continued, “I won’t apologize for giving him the money to pay back the Wildcatter. That’s what my parents would have wanted me to do with the proceeds from their life-insurance policies. Giving Frank the money wasn’t a mistake. Giving the money to Frank directly so that he could gamble that away, too, was.”

“Can I say something about that? Will you listen to me, too?” When she nodded, he continued: “I wasn’t angry that you gave him the money, Emma. It was your money to give. It was the lie that I couldn’t abide. You protected him rather than protecting me.”

“Because I didn’t tell you that my brother stole money from the Wildcatter?”

“Yes.”
She finally got it
!

“Don’t you see, Jared? I thought I was protecting you both. You loved Frank just as much as I did. Honestly, maybe more. You two might not have been related by blood, but you were every bit as much a brother to Frank as you were to me. I knew you’d be devastated to learn that he’d stolen from you.”

“Not just from me but from my family. Emma, we almost lost the Wildcatter. Only the grace of God and a banker who bucked his board to work with me kept that from happening.”

“I’m so sorry, Jared. I’m so sorry that my brother’s addiction cost you so much.”

“He cost us,” Jared continued, words he’d wanted to say for so long spewing out of him. “He cost Molly. If the man wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him for what he did to us! He was such a freaking coward to take his own life!”

“Yes, he was.”

Jared closed his eyes and fought back the bitterness. He wouldn’t let Frank ruin this opportunity. “I was so angry at him for killing himself.”

“You were angry at Frank, angry at me.”

“Angry at myself. I couldn’t mourn him, Emma.”

“I know. I was angry at you because of that. I missed him so much. I lost my brother, and all you could think about was saving the cursed Wildcatter.”

“I’m sorry, Emma.”

“You weren’t there for me when I needed you most.”

“That was wrong of me. I’m so very sorry.”

She smiled sadly. “ ‘I’m sorry’ are such powerful words. Why was saying them so hard for us?”

“Because we’re … How did Molly put it? Stubborn and intractable.” He moved slowly toward his wife, saying, “You are right, honey. ‘I’m sorry’ are powerful words, and we are a pair of fools for not having said them before now.”

Jared knew some other powerful words that they could exchange. Was this the right time? Did he want to hear them? Did he want to
say
them?

Yes
.

“Emma …” He took another step toward her, but she nervously backed away. His heart sank.

“The gifts,” she stuttered out. “What was Molly talking about when she mentioned gifts?”

Jared saw yearning in her eyes, but also fear. She was afraid. Reaching out, he took her hand. “I brought Christmas gifts for you, Emma.”

She licked her lips. “You did?”

“Yep.” His own heart thumped, and he realized he was a little afraid, too. “I have four of them.”

“Four.”

He nodded.

A ghost of a smile flashed over her lips. “I brought gifts for you, too.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “How many?”

Her smile returned and stayed. “Four.”

“What are they?”

“It’s not Christmas yet.”

“Isn’t it? I feel as if maybe Christmas has come early.”

Jared pulled her into his arms, and she willingly melted against him. “I know some other powerful words that need to be said.”

They spoke simultaneously. “I love you, Jared Stapleton.”

“I love you, too, Emma Stapleton.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, love shining bright enough to light up the cave. With joy in his heart, beneath the mistletoe, Jared bent his head and claimed his wife’s mouth in a long, passionate kiss.

When they finally came up for air, Jared checked his watch. They had another hour before Molly said she’d return, and there was a handy stack of quilts on the shelf behind his wife. “Speaking of Christmas gifts, gonna let me unwrap mine now?”

A tiny frown creased Emma’s brow. “They’re back at Angel’s Rest.”

His fingers slipped a pearl button on her blouse free of its buttonhole. “Not all of them.”

Emma’s shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

* * *

Twinkle lights blinked on the twelve-foot fir tree that was the centerpiece of Christmas decorations in the downstairs parlor of Angel’s Rest. Emma studied the ornaments—it was an angel-themed tree—and decided that she needed to get some angels for their Christmas tree at the Wildcatter.

A sound in the hallway caught her attention, and she turned to see her daughter wrapped in her fiancé’s arms beneath the ball of mistletoe hanging from the light fixture. Gladness filled Emma’s heart. When Jared’s hand slipped around Emma’s waist, she glanced up with a smile. He, too, was looking at the couple in the hallway. “He’s a lucky young man.”

“The luckiest,” Emma agreed.

“No.” Jared squeezed her waist. “That would be me.”

Emma fingered the angel-wings pendant hanging from a long silver chain around her neck, a gift from Celeste. The Angel’s Rest blazon, she called it, which signified the healing of a broken heart. “I think we’re all lucky. I know that tonight I feel blessed.”

Earlier, they had broken from strict Stapleton family tradition and opened their gifts. Now Mozart was upstairs in his travel crate, happily chewing on the toy that Jared had given him while wearing the stylish new collar that was Molly’s gift. Molly wore the diamond stud earrings that had been a gift from her parents.

Jared’s gifts to her and her gifts to him remained wrapped up in their boxes, and they would stay that way. They’d both decided that in this case, it truly was the thought that counted. Those wrapped packages would forever be symbols of their love that never died. The perfect Christmas gifts.

Outside, church bells began to peal. Molly and Charlie broke their kiss, then Molly looked at her parents and smiled with utter joy. “Merry Christmas, parents.”

“Merry Christmas, daughter and son,” Jared replied.

Though Emma wouldn’t have thought it possible, Molly’s smile grew even brighter. “The human heart is a curious thing. How can it possibly hold this much joy?”

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed the quarter hour as Celeste Blessing swept downstairs, a vision in a shimmery gold dress with a white wool coat draped over her arm. “Merry Christmas, friends. I’m so glad you are joining us for our midnight service, especially since I just received a phone call from Reverend Hart. We’ve had a bit of a problem, and we’re hoping you will help.”

And so it was that at eleven-thirty at night on Christmas Eve, with her daughter and her husband seated in the pew behind her, Emma Stapleton took a seat at the piano in St. Stephen’s. The first song she played was “Joy to the World.”

The members of the congregation agreed that the song had never been played so beautifully.

About the Author

New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author Emily March lives in Texas with her husband and their beloved boxer, Doc, who tolerates a revolving doggie door of rescue foster dogs sharing his kingdom until they find their forever homes. A graduate of Texas A&M University, Emily is an avid fan of Aggie sports, and her recipe for jalapeño relish has made her a tailgating legend.

Visit Emily March's website for more information on
Lover's Leap
and her other Eternity Springs books.

www.emilymarch.com/eternitysprings

Read on for an exciting preview of Emily March’s next novel in her Eternity Springs series:

Lover’s Leap

ONE

March
Near Cairns, Australia

“Mom! Hurry up,” Lori Reese urged, sounding more like a six-year-old than a young woman in her sophomore year of college. “We don’t want to be late!”

At the sound of her daughter’s voice, Sarah Reese rolled over in bed, buried her face in the thick, downy pillow, and contemplated taking up bank robbery in order to afford a return trip to this resort. She and Lori were nearing the end of their two-week all-expenses-paid Australian vacation, and the experience had given her a tantalizing taste of traveling in the lap of luxury.

“Ten more minutes.” This bed was heaven.