A Hickory Ridge Christmas by Dana Corbit

spinning beaters only seemed to underscore the thoughts whirling through her mind. When had her anger against him cooled? When had she come to see him as anything besides an obstacle to her independent life with her child? She couldn’t say. More disconcerting than that, now that the first of these unacceptable thoughts had escaped her tight hold, she couldn’t make them stop.
    As if he was unaware of the battle of wills inside Hannah and the wide berth he should give her because of it, Todd leaned close and nabbed the container of red frosting off the countertop.
    He shrugged when Hannah batted her spatula at him. “I have to make sure the red tastes okay, too.” He popped a fingerful into his mouth and made a humming sound of approval low in his throat.
    â€œIt’s good, isn’t it, Daddy?” Rebecca said.
    Hannah grabbed the bowl of white frosting before either of them decided to double-dip with their germ-covered fingers. She frowned at Todd.
    â€œSome example you are.”
    Perhaps he wasn’t a great example for healthybaking techniques, but he was a really good dad. He seemed to have donned the role so easily, and he wore it well. In one side of the strong, confident man he’d become, Todd had maintained a childlike sense of play and an ability to laugh at himself.
    Hannah couldn’t help watching him with Rebecca, as he laughed genuinely at jokes from a four-year-old and made a game out of creating the ugliest cookies ever. In a tender moment, he brushed Rebecca’s gummy hair back from her face, the flour on his hands only adding to the mess.
    â€œI do my best.”
    Hannah shot a sidelong glance at him as he returned to the table and helped Rebecca back into her chair. He was responding to her remark about his eating the frosting, but it almost felt as though he’d read her thoughts and had answered them instead. Without looking up, Todd rolled out another ball of sugar cookie dough. His daughter stuck a bell-shaped cutter right in the center, just as she had done the last three times, and still he laughed.
    Todd covered his daughter’s tiny hand with his, her fingers so dwarfed by his that they seemed to disappear. Hannah found she wasn’t jealous of that special touch between father and daughter. No mother would deny her child the opportunity to smile like that.
    Still, Hannah couldn’t help remembering the warmth of Todd’s hand when he’d covered her fingers with his own. She’d felt safe and precious in his arms. Would it ever be possible for her to be onthe receiving end of his caring again? And, more importantly, would she ever want that?
    Returning her attention to the bowl in front of her, Hannah mixed the confectioner’s sugar into the butter and added vanilla and milk before squeezing in about half a tube of blue gel food coloring. The result was a bowl of cornflower-blue frosting—not a color she would normally have associated with Christmas.
    â€œHow many more days until Christmas, Mommy?”
    Hannah took a few seconds to calculate. “Just five. It won’t be long now.” She smiled, knowing full well that to a four-year-old, five days was a lifetime.
    â€œCan Daddy come to our house for Christmas?”
    Hannah’s cheeks grew warm. “We’ve already discussed this, sweetie. You’re going to your daddy’s apartment for dinner on Christmas Eve, and then we’ll all go to the service together Christmas morning. It’s Sunday this year.”
    She glanced at Todd, realizing suddenly that she didn’t know what further plans he had. With no family around and no time to have made close friends, Todd would probably be spending the holiday alone. No one should be alone on Christmas, and her heart squeezed with the sense that Todd might be.
    Rebecca was shaking her head when Hannah looked back at her. “No, Mommy. When I get up. Can Daddy come when I open my presents from