A Merry Little Christmas: 1225 Christmas Tree Lane / 5-B Poppy Lane. Debbie MacomberЧитать онлайн книгу.
>
About the Author
DEBBIE MACOMBER is a number one New York Times best-selling author. Her recent books include Hannah’s List, 1022 Evergreen Place and 1105 Yakima Street. She has become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared on every major bestseller list. There are more than a hundred million copies of her books in print. For more information on Debbie and her books, visit www.DebbieMacomber.com.
Make time for friends. Make time for Debbie Macomber.
CEDAR COVE
16 Lighthouse Road
204 Rosewood Lane
311 Pelican Court
44 Cranberry Point
50 Harbor Street
6 Rainier Drive
74 Seaside Avenue
8 Sandpiper Way
92 Pacific Boulevard
1022 Evergreen Place
1105 Yakima Street
1225 Christmas Tree Lane
BLOSSOM STREET
The Shop on Blossom Street
A Good Yarn
Susannah’s Garden
(previously published as Old Boyfriends)
Back on Blossom Street
(previously published as Wednesdays at Four)
Twenty Wishes
Summer on Blossom Street
Hannah’s List
A Turn in the Road
Thursdays at Eight
Christmas in Seattle
Falling for Christmas
A Mother’s Gift
Angels at Christmas
A Mother’s Wish
The Manning Sisters
The Manning Brides
The Manning Grooms
Summer in Orchard Valley
A Merry Little Christmas
1225 Christmas Tree Lane
5-B Poppy Lane
Debbie Macomber
Paula Eykelhof
my wonderful editor for more than twenty-five years
One
“Mom!”
The front door slammed and Beth Morehouse hurried out of the kitchen. Three days before Christmas, and her daughters were home from college—at last! Her foreman, Jeff, had been kind enough to pick them up at the airport while Beth dealt with last-minute chores. She’d been looking forward to seeing them for weeks. Throwing her arms wide, she ran toward Bailey and Sophie. “Merry Christmas, girls.”
Squealing with delight, they dropped their bags and rushed into her embrace.
“I can’t believe it’s snowing. It’s so beautiful,” Bailey said, holding Beth in a tight hug. At twenty-one, she was the oldest by fourteen months. She resembled her father in so many ways. She was tall like Kent and had his dark brown hair, which she’d tucked under a knitted cap. Her eyes shone with a quiet joy. She was the thoughtful one and that, too, reminded Beth of her ex-husband. Three years after the divorce, she still missed him, although pride would never allow her to admit that. Even her budding relationship with Ted Reynolds, the local veterinarian, paled when she thought about her life with Kent and their history together.
“My turn.” Displacing Bailey, Sophie snuggled into Beth’s embrace. “The house looks fabulous, Mom. Really Christmassy.” This child was more like Beth. A few inches shorter than her sister, Sophie had curly auburn hair and eyes so blue they seemed to reflect a summer sky. Releasing Beth, Sophie added, “And it smells wonderful.”
Beth had done her best to make the house as festive and bright as possible for her daughters. She’d spent long hours draping fresh evergreen boughs on the staircase leading to the second-floor bedrooms. Two of the three Christmas trees were loaded with ornaments. The main tree in the family room was still bare, awaiting their arrival so they could decorate it together, which was a family tradition.
A trio of four-foot-tall snowmen stood guard in the hallway near the family room where the Nativity scene was displayed on the fireplace mantel. Decorating had helped take Beth’s mind off the fact that her ex-husband would be joining them for Christmas. This would be the first time she’d seen him in three years. Oh, they’d spoken often enough, but every conversation had revolved around their daughters. Nothing else. No questions asked. No comments of a personal nature. Just the girls and only the girls. It’d been strictly business. Until now.
Until Christmas.
They both loved the holidays. It was Kent who’d first suggested they have several Christmas trees. Always fresh ones, which was one reason Beth had been attracted to the Christmas tree farm when she started her new life.
“I’ve got lunch ready,” Beth said, trying to turn her attention away from her ex-husband. He still lived in California, as did the girls. He’d stayed in their hometown of Sacramento, while Bailey and Sophie both attended university in San Diego. According to their daughters, Kent had asked to come for Christmas. She’d known for almost two weeks that he’d made reservations at the Thyme and Tide B and B in Cedar Cove. The news that he’d be in town had initially come as a shock to Beth. He hadn’t discussed it with her at all. Instead, he’d had their daughters do his talking for him. That made everything more awkward, because it wasn’t as if she could refuse, not with Bailey and Sophie so excited about spending Christmas together as a family. But Kent’s plans had left her with a host of unanswered questions. Was this his way of telling Beth he missed her? Was he looking for a reconciliation? Was she? The questions swarmed in her head, but the answers wouldn’t be clear until he arrived. At least she’d be better able to judge his reasons. His intentions. And her own…
“Just like it used to be,” Bailey finished. Beth had missed whatever she’d said before that, although it wasn’t hard to guess.
Just like it used to be. These were magic words, but Beth had recognized long ago that the clock only moved forward. Yet the girls’ eagerness, Kent’s apparent insistence and her nostalgia for what they’d once shared swept aside her customary reserve.
“Mom?” Bailey said when she didn’t respond. “We’re talking…. Where are you?”
Beth gave a quick shake of her head. “Woolgathering. Sorry. I haven’t had much sleep lately.” Exhausted as she was, managing the tree farm and getting ready for Christmas with her daughters—and Kent—she’d hardly slept. She couldn’t. Every time she closed her eyes, Kent was there. Kent with his boyish smile and his eyes twinkling with mischief and fun. They’d been happy once and somehow they’d lost that and so much more. Beth had never been able to put her finger on what exactly had gone wrong; she only knew that it had. In the end they’d lived separate lives, going their own ways. Their daughters had kept them together—and then they were off at college,