It's That Time of Year

“And what is your name?”

“Emily Farley. I’m seven years old.”

“Have you been a good girl, Emily?”

Emily’s eyes grew wide, and she looked to her mother for affirmation. Her mother nodded. “Yes.”

Sam took her hand and held it. “Santa knows that you had a fire at your house. That must have scared you.”

Tears glistened in Emily’s eyes as she nodded, and Melanie’s heart ached for the little girl.

He patted her head. “Santa knows you were very brave,” Sam said gently. “Your house will be ready soon. And it’ll be nice and special and all new just for you.” Sam held up a tissue. “Close your eyes.”

Emily closed her eyes, and Sam blotted them carefully with a tissue. “Now smile for Santa.”

The child’s grin lit up like lights on a tree.

Melanie smiled. Sam had handled the situation perfectly. Melanie warmed up to him a little more.

Sam smoothed back the little girl’s hair. “Emily, since you’ve been such a good girl, what would you like for Christmas?”

“A Katie Ann doll and the Katie Ann town house. And some clothes for Katie Ann. And Katie Ann’s boat and trailer, too.”

Emily’s mother took her little hand. “Sweetheart, I’m sure Santa will do what he can.” As her words faded she looked away, wiping her eyes.

Sam held the little girl’s chin in a gloved hand. “Santa always tries to make Christmas wishes come true. Now, why don’t you ask Kyle to give you another candy cane.”

Emily’s mother shook her head and sniffed. It was obvious that she couldn’t afford all those toys.

Sam took her arm and moved her away from Kyle and Emily, who were peeling candy canes and chattering like long-lost pals.

“Mrs. Farley.” Sam handed her a tissue and winked. “There’s no crying on Grinch night.”

The woman chuckled and wiped her eyes. “It’s just…it’s been so hard since the fire, and I want to give Emily an especially nice Christmas.”

Melanie’s stomach churned. She knew exactly how Mrs. Farley felt.

“Have faith, Mrs. Farley,” Sam said. “As I told Emily, Santa always tries to make Christmas wishes come true. That means yours, too.”

Mrs. Farley was smiling as she turned and walked over to Emily. Sam LeDoux had put that smile on her face with his encouraging words.

Melanie wiped at her own eyes with the tail of her red wool scarf, horrified when he looked her way.

He gave her a wink and a smile, and she found herself smiling back, lost once more in his twinkling blue eyes.

When was she going to come to her senses and realize that Sam LeDoux wasn’t really Santa Claus? There was no way he could make things better for her. There were no magic words he could say, nothing he could do to bringKyle’s father back.

Sure, she was starting to like some things about him, but what did that matter? Her “best Christmas ever” plan didn’t include Sam LeDoux. She needed to focus on that goal and not let him distract her.

Sam looked at her with a smile that made her heart race—a smile that was far too sexy for Santa Claus. And Melanie knew that for better or worse, she was already distracted.

Chapter Four

“Melanie, would you mind giving me a lift to Hawk’s Garage?” Sam asked. “Maybe my sleigh on wheels is repaired.”

Before she could reply, Kyle answered for her. “Sure, Santa!”

As soon as they climbed into the car Melanie knew it was a mistake to put Sam in the front seat next to her. He was too close, intruding on her senses.

Kyle took no notice of her discomfort. He was giddy that Santa was riding in his mother’s car and kept up a steady stream of chatter about everything and anything. Sam laughed a lot, staying in character all the while. He was clearly enjoying Kyle’s excitement.

Melanie let herself relax a bit, as much as she could with Sam so close. The lowtimbre of his voice was masculine and every so often she’d catch a unique pronunciation of a word—traces of his French accent coming through. The white beard around his face contrasted with his tanned skin. Maybe his latest disaster had taken him to a tropical island.

Preoccupied by her evaluations, she almost ran a stop sign.

She hit her brakes and they skidded on the snowcovered mountain road. “Oops.”

“Careful—it’s slick out here,” Sam said.

Her heart beat wildly. She assumed that it was due to the close call on the icy road instead of Sam’s sexy accent.

“Why do you talk that way, Santa Claus?” Kyle asked.

“You mean my accent? It’s French. You see, Kyle, Santa knows other languages, like French, because he travels all over the world.”

Nice recovery. Sam could sure think on his feet.

“Hey, Santa, will you say something in French?” Kyle asked.

“Joyeux Noël. That means Merry Christmas.”

“Noo-ell.” Kyle giggled.

Melanie had to smile as Sam spent the next few miles teaching Kyle a couple of lines from a French Christmas carol, and in spite of Melanie’s resolve to dislike anything and everything about Sam, she found herself laughing and enjoying his interaction with her son.

Finally, she made the turn into Hawk’s Garage and saw her father walking out of the office. She rolled her window down.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hello, Mel.”

“Hi, Grandpa!” Kyle piped up.

“How are you doing, tiger?” With a big grin, Ed pointed to the front seat. “Is that who I think it is?”

“It’s Santa Claus, Grandpa!”

“Ho, ho, ho!” Sam added helpfully.

“Well, Mr. Claus, your truck is all ready,” Ed said. “Ronnie is the best and the fastest with alternators.”

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