Authors: Melody Carlson
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary, #FIC042000, #FIC027020
The Christmas Cat (15 page)
“Wow . . . amazing . . .”
“Anyway I took him home and dried him off and fed him. He was really hungry.” She shrugged. “He’s been with me ever since.”
“When did you figure out it was Harry?”
“I tried to tell myself it wasn’t really Harry,” she said a bit sheepishly. “Like maybe he was Harry’s long-lost brother, you know?”
“Uh-huh . . .” He scratched Harry’s chin.
“But then I called him by his name—Harry.” She made a sad smile. “And he came running. I knew then.”
“Really? He came to you, just like that?”
“I tried to call you, Garrison. I tried your cell phone and the phone here at the house. But they were both out of service.”
He explained that he’d changed numbers.
“And the reason I sneaked into the open house was to ask your agent how to reach you. But she was talking with a couple who looked like serious buyers and I didn’t want to distract her.” She frowned. “I was pretty disappointed when I saw the For Sale sign, Garrison. Didn’t see that one coming.”
“I’m thinking about taking that sign down,” he confessed.
She looked surprised. “Anyway, when I went over to David’s tonight, I heard that you’d been by. Heard about the check you gave him.” She smiled. “That was really generous. He can use it right now. Starting his home business has been a challenge.”
“Well, that was my grandmother’s doing. I was just the delivery boy.”
“Anyway, I thought I’d better get Harry back to you.”
“Thank you!” He explained about the Maxwells.
“That’s terrible.”
“Yeah. I would much rather have given Harry to you.” He reminded her of the conditions of Gram’s will. “If I could’ve I would’ve, Cara.”
“That’s okay. I understand.” She pointed at him. “Hey, what about your allergies? Or have you already taken some medicine?”
He looked down at Harry. “No, I haven’t taken anything today. But, you’re right, I don’t seem to be sneezing . . . yet . . .”
They both just stood by the crackling fire without speaking. Garrison didn’t know what to say. But he wished he could think of a reason to entice her to stay. “Sorry I can’t offer you any Christmas goodies . . . I haven’t even been to the store yet.”
“That’s okay. I should get back to David’s. Besides, you probably have something to do . . . I mean, for Christmas Eve.”
“No, no, not really.” He could feel Harry getting restless in his arms and so he set him back down, watching as the handsome cat sauntered around, exploring the room with feline interest.
“But, um, before I go,” she spoke slowly, “I’d like to ask you a question.”
“Go for it.” He folded his arms across his chest, studying her closely. He wanted to memorize the curve of her cheek, the way her dark eyes sparkled in the firelight, the fullness of her lips, the way she tipped her head to one side as she spoke.
“Okay . . . so I just want to know, Garrison Brown—why didn’t you tell me goodbye?”
“Goodbye?”
“Yeah, you left here without even telling me you were going. And, call me stupid, but I thought we were friends.”
“We were friends,” he declared. “I mean, we
are
friends. Aren’t we?”
“I guess. But, well . . . I just thought we had, uh, maybe something more.
You know?
” Her eyes narrowed with uncertainty. “But I must’ve been wrong. Otherwise you wouldn’t have taken off like that—without a word.”
“I thought you and David were a couple,” he said abruptly.
“Me and David?” Her brow creased.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He nodded sincerely. “You went to that Christmas party with him and—”
“I had agreed to do that a couple weeks before I even knew you, Garrison. In fact, I’m pretty sure I told you about it. David had this big fancy work-related party to attend and he didn’t want to go stag. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
“What about the Christmas parade? You and David and Jackson together—you all looked pretty cozy, just like a happy little family.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “I had offered to take Jackson to the parade because David couldn’t. It was going to be just Jackson and me and Santa Claus. David was tied up with a client coming by his house to look at something. Then his client was a no-show and David surprised me with coffee. You were there, you saw it.”
“I saw it . . . but I guess I misunderstood,” he admitted. Had he really been that off base, that thickheaded—to put a completely wrong spin on everything? “But what about tonight?” he said suddenly.
“Tonight?” She ran her hands down the sides of her dress,
a crinkly, cranberry-colored velveteen that was very pretty on her. She slipped her hands into pockets, waiting for him to explain himself.
“You’re going to spend Christmas Eve with David and Jackson. I know it because they both told me. David is cooking a turkey. And you should probably be there with them right now.” He proclaimed this like
“Aha, I got you!”
Although he’d never wanted anything less.
“Yes, I probably should be there right now,” she confessed. “Along with a couple dozen other people.”
“A couple dozen?” Garrison felt an irrational rush of hope. “So David’s having a dinner party?”
“That’s right. A potluck actually. Mostly people from the neighborhood. Some that you know as a matter of fact. Beth and Annabelle are coming. So are Sabrina and Riley—as soon as she can extract herself from her sister’s house.”
“Interesting . . .” Really interesting.
“So do you want to go with me or not?” she demanded playfully. “The food should be good—a lot better than your microwave meal. I made a big ol’ pan of real mac and cheese—used three cheeses.”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.” He nodded in disbelief. “But, by
going with you
. . . do you mean kind of like a date?”
Her eyes twinkled merrily. “Kinda like that.”
“Okay!”
“But not so fast, Mr. Brown.” She pulled what looked like a small piece of a plant from her pocket. Was it from the poinsettia? She dangled it in front of him.
“What’s that?” he asked.
She held it over her head. “Mistletoe.”
He grinned with realization. “You mean . . . ?”
“Oh yeah . . .” She leaned forward with an expectant expression.
Garrison took in a quick breath, then leaned down toward her and, gazing into her eyes, he kissed her—and she definitely kissed him back! When they finally stepped away, he could feel the room spinning around him.
“Merry Christmas, Garrison,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he said in a husky voice.
“Merry Christmas!”
Melody Carlson
is the award-winning author of over two hundred books, including
Christmas at Harrington
’s
,
The Christmas Pony
, and
A Simple Christmas Wish
. Melody recently received a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award in the inspirational market for her books. She and her husband live in central Oregon. For more information about Melody, visit her website at
www.melodycarlson.com
.
Christmas at Harrington’s
The Christmas Bus
The Christmas Shoppe
The Joy of Christmas
The Treasure of Christmas
The Christmas Pony
A Simple Christmas Wish
