Married for Christmas (Willow Park) by Noelle Adams

cook dinner herself, since a church
lady had brought over an egg casserole and fruit salad for breakfast, which
meant they were on their own for dinner.
    But instead she had to go out—and sit in the backseat of
someone else’s car for forty minutes there and back to get there.
    She knew Holly—who worked in a department store a couple of
towns over—would be dressed to the nines, but Jessica was feeling so blah today
that she couldn’t muster the energy to wear a skirt. So she’d worn her black
pants with a black silk shell that was made to look like it laced up the front
and a wine-colored cardigan that looked a little festive.
    When she glanced over at Daniel, he was putting on his watch.
“You can’t wear that jacket,” she said, noticing something immediately.
    He glanced down. “Why not?”
    “It’s got a stain on it.”
    “It’s black.”
    “Even so.” She walked over and pointed out the obvious stain
just under the pocket.
    The jacket was getting pretty old anyway. He’d been wearing
it for years—since well before Lila died.
    Almost every piece of clothing he owned had been picked out
by Lila. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him in something new.
    He made a grumbling sound under his breath, but he took the
jacket off. “Do you think I’ll be okay without a jacket?”
    “I don’t know. It’s a pretty snotty place. They might try to
give you one before they let you in.” She went to look at his clothes in the
closet.
    “I’ve got that old corduroy—”
    “No. You can’t wear that.” She sorted through his collection
of jackets—most of which were looking rather rough. He still had decent suits
for Sunday, but not much else.
    “I don’t really want to wear a suit,” he said, coming to
stand beside her and inspect his wardrobe.
    “Here,” she said, finding a perfectly fine black jacket in
the back of the closet.
    “The button fell off.” He pulled the button out of the
pocket, where he’d obviously put it before he’d stuffed the jacket at the back
of the closet.
    She shook her head. “There’s a fairly simple solution to
that dilemma.”
    She wasn’t crafty or domestic at all. She didn’t sew or embroider
or any of the old-fashioned skills that many women still mastered in Willow
Park.
    But she could at least manage to sew on a button.
    “We don’t have time,” he said, when she found a little
needle and thread kit in one of her dresser drawers.
    “It will take two minutes. Your choices are to wait for the
button or wear a suit.”
    He sighed and lowered himself to the side of the bed to put
on his socks.
    As he did, Bear walked over to greet him, since she
innocently assumed he’d come down to her level for that very reason.
    Jessica watched from the corner of her eye as she hurriedly
tacked on the button. Bear kept nosing at Daniel, confused that he wasn’t
responding.
    She tried not to get annoyed about his ignoring her sweet
dog.
    “Have you thought any more about the choir?” he asked, as he
slid on his shoe.
    She’d hoped he’d forgotten about that idea. “I’ve thought a
little about it.”
    “And?”
    “I’m still thinking.”
    “That means you want to say no.”
    “Yes, I want to say no. You know that was my first
inclination.”
    “I thought you were serious about thinking about it.” His
tone had changed, evidently in response to the testiness in her tone.
    “I was serious about thinking about it. But thinking
about it doesn’t automatically mean I’m going to come down on your side. Believe
it or not, your opinion isn’t the only reasonable conclusion for every issue in
the universe.”
    He narrowed his eyes. “That’s ridiculous. And I’m not sure
you’ve even thought about it. You’re just stalling and hoping I’ll let it go.”
    The fact that he was right did nothing to ease her annoyance
with him. “Do you have any idea how arrogant you sound—assuming you know
exactly what I’m thinking? You have no idea