Holiday Wishes by Nora Roberts Page B

yes.”
    â€œFaith—”
    With a laugh, she threw her arms around his neck. “You’re going to get the same answer now. Oh, I love you, Jason, more than ever.”
    â€œWe’ve got years to make up for.”
    â€œYes.” She met his mouth with equal hunger, equal hope. “We will. The three of us.”
    â€œThe three of us.” He let his forehead rest against hers. “I want more.”
    â€œWe’ve more than enough time to give Clara a baby brother or sister for next Christmas.” Her lips sought his again. “We’ve got more than enough time for everything.”
    They both heard the bells peal out from the town hall. Midnight.
    â€œMerry Christmas, Faith.”
    She felt the ring slide onto her finger. All wishes were granted. “Welcome home, Jason.”

All I Want for Christmas

Prologue
    Zeke and Zack huddled in the tree house. Important business, any plots or plans, and all punishments for infractions of the rules were discussed in the sturdy wooden hideaway tucked in the branches of the dignified old sycamore.
    Today, a light rain tapped on the tin roof and dampened the dark green leaves. It was still warm enough in the first days of September that the boys wore T-shirts. Red for Zeke, blue for Zack.
    They were twins, as identical as the sides of a two-headed coin. Their father had used the color code since their birth to avoid confusion.
    When they switched colors—as they often did—they could fool anyone in Taylor’s Grove. Except their father.
    He was on their minds at the moment. They had already discussed, at length, the anticipated delights and terrors of their first day in real school. The first day in first grade.
    They would ride the bus, as they had done the year before, in kindergarten. But this time they would stay in Taylor’s Grove Elementary for a full day, just like the big kids. Their cousin Kim had told them that
real
school wasn’t a playground.
    Zack, the more introspective of the two, had thought over, worried about and dissected this problem for weeks. There were terrible, daunting terms, like
homework
and
class participation,
that Kim tossed around. They knew that she, a sophomore in high school, was often loaded down with books. Big, thick books with no pictures.
    And sometimes, when she was babysitting for them, she had her nose stuck in them for hours. For as long a time as she would have the telephone stuck to her ear, and that was long.
    It was pretty scary stuff for Zack, the champion worrier.
    Their father would help them, of course. This was something Zeke, the eternal optimist, had pointed out. Didn’t they both know how to read stuff like
Green Eggs and Ham
and
The Cat in the Hat
because their dad helped them sound out the words? And they both knew how to write the whole alphabet, and their names and short things, because he had shown them.
    The trouble was, he had to work and take care of the house and them, as well as Commander Zark, the big yellow dog they’d saved from the animal shelter two years before. Their dad had, as Zack pointed out, an awful lot to do. And now that they were going to go to school, and have assignments and projects and real report cards, he was going to need help.
    â€œHe’s got Mrs. Hollis to come in once a week and do stuff.” Zeke ran his miniature Corvette around the imaginary racetrack on the tree-house floor.
    â€œIt’s not enough.” A frown puckered Zack’s forehead and clouded his lake blue eyes. He exhaled with a long-suffering sigh, ruffling the dark hair that fell over his forehead. “He needs the companionship of a good woman, and we need a mother’s love. I heard Mrs. Hollis say so to Mr. Perkins at the post office.”
    â€œHe hangs around with Aunt Mira sometimes. She’s a good woman.”
    â€œBut she doesn’t live with us. And she doesn’t have time to help us with science projects.” Science