Once Upon a Christmas Read online

  While he heard Blythe come back down the stairs, he kept his focus on the work he was doing. About half an hour later, he nodded and whooshed out a breath. “You want to come check this?”

  “Really? You’re done?”

  “Hope so.” He stood and motioned her to the chair. “Try it and see.” He stood behind her after she sat and watched her nimble fingers dance over the keys, bringing up screen after screen.

  “It is faster, that’s for sure.” Her smile made him want to lay his hands on her shoulders. “Looks like I just have to redo what I’ve done and while I’m not back to where I was yet, I soon will be.”

  Turquoise eyes—I never believed there was such a thing. He smiled back at her. “Then I suggest we eat and Matty and I will get out of here and let you get back to work.”

  “Yes, of course.” She broke eye contact and pushed back her chair—slowly so as not to bump into him. “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

  “Sure you can, by letting me take you out to dinner on Saturday.”

  She spun her chair around. “Wait a minute, that’s not me paying you back. I should take you out to dinner.”

  “I asked first.”

  “Thane Davidson, you have a weird sense of humor.”

  “Good, then humor me.”

  Banter through dinner is good for one’s digestion. Thane glanced at the woman across the table. When had he enjoyed a simple meal more? The thought of the good time they were sharing, besides being good for his digestion, his stomach informed him of that, melted the steel out of his shoulders and business concerns from his mind. Matty shoving her nose under his arm made him glance at the clock.

  No wonder—her mealtime had long passed.

  Thane laid his napkin on the table. “My friend here just reminded me what time it is. I need to be going so you can go back to work. Unless of course you are done for the evening.”

  “No, I’m not. My client needs that project tomorrow. I had planned on having it done tonight.”

  “No grace period?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  Thane stood. “Thanks for such a good evening.”

  “Thank you for the computer repair.”

  Thane felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He checked the lit screen. “I need to get this, so I’ll be on my way. Come on, Matty. Say goodbye.”

  He snagged his jacket and tool kit from the wingback chair where he’d left them and headed for the door. “See you.”

  He glanced back to see Blythe waving from the backlit doorway, Harley at her side.

  “As I told you before, Matty, m’dear, that is one special woman. You think there’s any special man in her life? She’d not indicated as such. I wonder what kind of flowers she likes best.”

  Matty whined and looked out the window.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I still don’t know if he is in some kind of relationship.

  Blythe closed the door and turned to feed her four-footed, for-sure friend. There never was any doubt of their relationship, just occasional questions as to who was really in charge.

  So why didn’t you ask? The voice on her shoulder must have just awakened from an extended nap.

  “Because I’m chicken, that’s why. Although why would he go out of his way to help me if he had a girlfriend? Wouldn’t she be jealous?” She set Harley’s dried dog kibbles, topped with a spoonful of canned food, on the rug by his water dish. “Okay, have at it.” Teaching him to wait for permission to eat had taken a lot of training, one of the few things she’d followed through on. “Good dog.” I’d be jealous. If I heard about it, that is. So many men are so sneaky these days. As in Henderson, who’d married her good friend. Somehow the friendship had died at the same time.

  Blythe couldn’t stomach either lying or cheating, never had been able to, even when the excuses were believable.

  “So the next time I will ask him.”

  The next time what? That voice again.

  “The next time we are together.” Which would hopefully be in the morning in the park. One did not ask life-altering questions over the phone where one could not watch the eyes and entire body language. She sighed and headed back down the stairs to her office—and a computer that now worked. Had she said thank-you enough?

  Blythe turned off the computer at 3:03 a.m. and was in bed and asleep by 3:05 a.m., or close to it. Thank you, Father, was her last thought. The project was finished. When the alarm rang at seven, she smashed the snooze button twice before staggering to the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. At least she had thought to prep the coffeemaker the night before on one of her breaks. Coffee mug in hand, the fumes helping to alert the part of her mind that screamed for more sleep, she sipped her way to the bathroom for a shower. If only she could take her caffeine by IV in the morning.

  She donned her robe, stepped from the shower and stared into the mirror. Today is my birthday. I am now officially thirty years old—and still single. Eyes as tired as hers did not belong on a thirty-year-old, more like someone sixty, or forty anyway. She blinked, smiled, patted her cheeks. “Come on, girl, get yourself in gear.”

  Harley licked drops of water off her leg, then walked to the door and whined. He looked over his shoulder as if asking what was taking her so long. There were sniffs to be sniffed and rabbit or gopher holes to investigate. He wagged his tail and yipped.

  “I’m coming.” She moussed her hair, finger-combed it into her typical disarray and smoothed moisturizer over her face. “I had better get more faithful on a beauty regimen if I don’t want the wrinkles to take up permanent residence.” Harley flopped down with a sigh. “Harley, I sure wish you understood the importance of birthdays.”

  Toast in one hand and leash in the other, they started for the marina within a half hour. She’d not missed eight by much. But no other basset escorted an owner around the paths or out on the pier. He said he’d be here. Perhaps he overslept, too. Or he had to take a call. Or—this thought was the killer. He’d shined her on. “No.”

  Harley raised his head.

  “Not you, boy. Just talking to myself, which I seem to be doing more and more lately.” She picked up their pace. “Come on, dog, let’s get this over with. I have an in-box full of work.” All the while they jogged the park’s paths, she kept watching for Thane and Matty. By the time she and Harley reached home, both of them fought to catch their breath and she couldn’t pant without her tongue hanging out. What a way to spend the first part of her birthday morning. After all, he had said he’d see her in the morning. “And I didn’t even get a latte.”

  Most women by age thirty had little children to make mom’s day special. The thought struck terror and fearto her heart. Do not go there, she ordered her capricious mind.

  Only her mother called to wish her happy birthday.

  “Thanks, Mom. No, I’m not doing anything special, I just don’t have time. Next year.”

  “But this is your thirtieth.”

  “Don’t remind me, I’m trying to forget. Oh, and speaking of forgetting, I’m not doing Christmas this year.” She held the phone away from her ear until her mother calmed down. “Of course I’ll come to your house for Christmas Day, I’m not that hard-hearted. And I already have most of the presents.” She didn’t tell her mother she’d had them wrapped at the stores, again to save a chunk of time.

  “Please, Mom, I feel bad enough already. Lighten up, will you?” After a few more comments and a couple of pregnant silences, they hung up. “Well, that went a long way toward making me feel better.”

  Some birthday. No cake and not even an ice-cream bar in the freezer. No kiddies to help blow out candles. What is the matter with me today? Two cards in the mail. Of course, she’d said she was going to skip it, but still…Not even her sister remembered her supposedly special day. On one hand she was grateful for the quiet phone and on the other…sigh. Brad had picked up his project at ten and now that it was nearly dusk, she stood at the window, watching fog sneak up the river. The
day had flown by. Tail in the air, nose skimming the ground, Harley quartered the backyard, checking to make certain what animals had invaded his territory. He followed one trail to the fence. Most likely the neighbor’s cat had used the flower bed under the window for a litter box.

  After a quick dinner of ramen soup, she headed back to her lair where the stack had dwindled but the remaining projects were not the garden variety, one-day type. Her birthday had gone virtually unnoticed, the one man who’d promised to meet her for a latte didn’t and she had a headache. Some day. Good thing each day was still only twenty-four hours long.

  I thought Thane might be a possibility. Only he never showed up, never called. Father God, I thought You were on my side. Perhaps it was best this way, especially if he was a man who might want children. She’d never put herself in a situation like that again.

  She let Harley out for a last run, turned out the lights in her office and headed for the claw-footed bathtub in her bathroom. One thing she would do was treat herself to a long, healing soak with bubble bath, aromatic candles and soothing music.

  But when she turned the CD player on, the strains of “Silent Night” filled the steamy room. Ignoring the tears streaming down her face, she tested the hot water. Overworked, overwhelmed, underappreciated and no Christmas.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Where is she?”

  Thane stopped, Matty at his heels. She sat and looked up at him, adoration evident in every quiver of her sturdy body. From the top of the bridge over the Alhambra Creek, he scanned the entire waterfront. Plenty of people, strollers, joggers, bikers, dog walkers, but not one purple-coated pixie with a tricolored basset.

  So, did you come just to see her or to walk your dog, giving you both some needed exercise? Interior monologues could be so disgusting, so brutally honest.

  He struck off across the marsh at a good clip until Matty whined and pulled back on the leash. “Sorry, girl.” He waited while she did her business, not needing the plastic bag he kept in his pocket for cleanup, and headed back toward home. He didn’t bother to stop for a latte—somehow without her there to enjoy it with him, the coffeepot at home sounded just fine, or at least adequate. Halfway home, he dialed her number on his cell.

  “Blythe’s Graphics. Sorry I cannot…” Argh. How he hated answering machines. But when she didn’t break in, he dutifully left his message, including both cell and home phone numbers and ending with, “I’ll see you about 6:30 then. I’m hoping you like sushi, I made reservations in Walnut Creek but we can cancel and go somewhere else if you want.”

  After a shower and still no response, he thumbed through the yellow pages for the number of the local florist, the one on Main Street that they’d walked by the other day. What kind of flowers would she enjoy the most?

  He placed an order for a mixed bouquet to be delivered asap and booted up his computer. She wasn’t the only one with work to do.

  “All that work and he’s still not happy with it.” Blythe slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel. How she’d kept her cool in the meeting with her client was still a mystery to her. “I’ll know it when I see it. It’s just not there yet.” Famous last words. And here she thought she’d done just what he described.

  At least her birthday was over and she could go on getting older without feeling like she was voted least favorite and forgotten, friend or relative.

  Sure, why don’t you throw a pity party all for yourself. You’re the one who said you were too busy, remember? There was that dreaded voice on her shoulder. Why did it always have to be right?

  Sorry, God, I’m not being very grateful, am I? On one hand I pray for work, then You send it my way and I grumble. Surely there must be some kind of balance, somewhere.

  I wonder if Thane was down at the marina? The thought made her wait too long after the traffic light turned green and she got a honk to wake her up.

  “Sorry.” She fluttered her hand by way of apology and drove on.

  Harley greeted her at the door, spinning in circles, ears flying. She bent down to pet him, telling him what a good dog he was and how lonesome the house would be without him. She’d just hung up her jacket and was heading for the back door to let Harley out when the front door bell chimed.

  “Just a minute, dog…” But he beat her to the door, his bark announcing unknown company.

  Blythe checked through the peephole to see a person hiding behind flowers. Pulling open the door, she gasped, “How beautiful.”

  “If you’re Blythe Stensrude, these are for you.”

  “I am.” Flowers, who would send me flowers? Probably my sister since she forgot my birthday. She took the flowers, inhaling lily, carnation and mum flavors. “Thank you so much.” Shutting the door with one foot, she carried the arrangement to the coffee-table and pushed aside the two coffee-table books to set the flowers in the middle. Or maybe they would do better on the dining room table. Or would she see them better in the kitchen? Down in my office would be best. But for the present, she’d leave them where they were. Brightening up her living room.

  Harley woofed at the back door.

  “Sorry, dog. I’m coming.” She pulled the card off the plastic holder and went to let the dog out.

  “Thane Davidson! Oh my…” Stars and garters is what her grandmother used to say, or the even more general purpose phrase used by many Norwegians, uff da. Yes, this surely was an uff da moment.

  She sank into the overstuffed chair and propped her elbows on her knees, the better to inhale and study her flowers at the same time. Her fingers itched to get out the watercolors. To capture the burgundy and white mums, the needles and cones of the evergreen branches and the glory of the fire-throated lilies.

  She read the card for the third time.

  “To remind you that I’ll see you soon. Ever, Thane Davidson.”

  “Guess we’re on for dinner all right.” She turned to see the message light blinking. Harley yipped to come in. She inhaled one more burst of beauty and went to let in the dog. First things first.

  Dog in, she retrieved her camera from the closet and quickly snapped pictures from every angle. She would get to paint them, even if not right now.

  That done, she pushed the button on the answering machine.

  “Blythe, this is Thane Davidson…” As if she wouldn’t have recognized his voice. “Ready by…Oh my word, girl, you better get in high gear. And yes, you sweetheart of a man, I love sushi.”

  She whirled once around the living room, Harley staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  Amazing how one’s mind could kick into high gear when the timeline shortened–nothing like anticipation to fire one up.

  Four hours of work, one to get ready. Ah, there was the catch. What to wear? How to get her hair to stand and lay just right, how to touch up a broken nail, put three outfits back in the closet after they failed the “to wear or not to wear” test. Once she decided on the pink pants with the swirly pink, turquoise and purple shirt, she couldn’t find the right earrings. “How can I lose my favorite earrings?”

  Harley melted further into the rug, only eyes and brows moving in response to her flitting about.

  “I know you hate for me to be gone but it won’t be for long. I’m just going out to dinner. Actually, I’m being taken out to dinner by a real man who lives up to his word.” She sang the last words. “Well, most of the time anyway. Or at least one out of two.” And she possibly would have seen him this morning if she’d gone on down to the marina like Harley wanted. But after today, she could deliver the programs to the church in the morning—getting them printed was someone else’s job.

  She belted the big shirt, added bracelets, changed her mind on both belt and bracelets, dug out others and breathed a sigh of relief when the doorbell rang. Now she couldn’t change her mind again.

  “The man in black.” She invited him in with a sweep of her hand. Wearing a black turtleneck, cashmere, for sure, black slacks and a black leather bomber jacket, the m
an shouldn’t be allowed out in society. He’d devastate the female population.

  “Is something wrong?” One eyebrow arched higher.

  “No, w-why?” She caught the stammer. Please mouth, work right.

  “You look a bit shocky.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Shocky right, you took my breath away. She glanced up—and up—to look into dark eyes that crinkled at the edges, eyes easy to drown in. “I, ah…” She couldn’t talk, her words snagged by her dry throat and held prisoner. Without volition, she leaned closer.

  “You are so incredible.” His whisper shivered down her spine and up again.

  Kissable, his carved lips were surely kissable. Blythe Marie Stensrude, you do not kiss on the first date, so back off. She ignored the woof at her feet but when Harley let loose with a full basset howl, they both stepped back, looked down at the howling dog and burst into laughter.

  “Now that’s the best chaperone I ever saw.” Thane leaned over to stroke Harley’s head. “Sorry fellah, if I intruded on your territory, but it’s all right, my intentions are honorable.”

  Blythe retrieved her coat from the closet. “Puppy treat, Harley?” She felt like she should pat her chest to quiet her still racing heart. She took her overly warm face into the kitchen, Harley prancing beside her. Scooping two small biscuits out of the box, she leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “Thanks, dog. You saved me from myself.” Harley munched the treats while she dug a new braided circle chew treat from the stash and handed him that. “Now you stay out of trouble.”

  As she entered the living room where Thane waited, her gaze fell on the flowers. “Oh, Thane, forgive me. I forgot to thank you for the flowers. They are glorious.”

  “You are welcome and no forgiveness necessary. I’m glad you like them.”