her lips into his mouth, a silent moan getting no farther than her throat. The shattering completeness of his kiss unleashed a greater need inside. Whirled away on this tide of intense longing, she forgot everything else and moved to put her arm around him.
Her crutches clattered to the floor with a resounding crash!
For a split second, it startled both of them, jarring them apart. Leslie realized instantly what she’d done and muttered impotently, “Damn this broken leg.”
Running feet were already tearing toward the kitchen from the living room as Tagg bent down toretrieve the crutches. He was just handing them to her when Holly burst into the room.
“What happened?” she asked in wide-eyed alarm. “What was that racket?”
“Leslie dropped her crutches. It made a lot of noise, but that’s all,” Tagg assured her.
Her aunt appeared in the doorway behind Holly. “She didn’t fall did she?”
“No,” Leslie answered for herself. “The crutches just slipped out of my hands.”
“Boy, it really scared me!” Holly declared, holding a hand to her throat. “I thought something terrible had happened.”
“Nothing did,” Tagg repeated. “You’d better get your things together. It’s long past your bedtime.”
“That’s okay. I don’t have school tomorrow. It’s Saturday, remember?” she protested that the evening had to draw to a close so soon.
“Saturday or not, it’s time you were in bed,” he insisted, and crossed the kitchen to take his coat off the wall hook. “Thanks again for the cider and the gingerbread, Mrs. Evans.”
“She said I could call her Aunt Patsy if I wanted,” Holly informed him as she tried to get her arm into the other coat sleeve.
“Then tell her goodnight and thanks.” Tagg helped her find the opening.
“Goodnight, Aunt Patsy, and thanks for everything.” Now that the decision was made to leave, she wasn’t taking any time over it. “Goodnight, Leslie.”
“Goodnight.” To Tagg, she added, “Thanks for asking me along tonight.”
“Jingle Bells, Holly, and all.” His mouth twitched with a brief smile before his glance shifted down to her lips, then he was reaching for the door and pushing Holly toward it. “Goodnight, Mrs. Evans.”
After they had gone, her aunt walked over to the sink. “I’ll wash up those dishes, Aunt Patsy,” Leslie volunteered.
“There isn’t even a good sinkful here. We’ll do them with the breakfast dishes in the morning. I thought that you might have gotten your hands wet because you’d put them to soak. But I guess your crutches fell for some other reason.” Her aunt didn’t elaborate on what she thought the reason might be.
“Yes, I guess so.”
“There’s enough cider here for two more mugs.” Her aunt checked the contents of the pan. “Shall we finish it?”
“Sure.” Leslie moved to get the mugs.
“I’ve been thinking,” her aunt began. “Maybe weshould ask Taggart and his daughter to come over Christmas Eve and have oyster stew with us.”
“I think that would be a nice idea,” Leslie agreed. “Maybe I could buy a little something for Holly—for a Christmas present.”
“You could,” her aunt nodded in an approving manner.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Leslie decided.
The next morning was as bright and clear as the previous night had been, and the temperature was almost as cold despite the golden sun shining down. Bundled up in her heavy jacket, gloves, and ski cap, Leslie was humming to herself as she did her three-legged walk down the driveway to the sidewalk.
“Where are you going, Leslie?” Holly came racing out of the house, her snow jacket unzipped and flopping open, and the hood barely staying on her head.
“I thought I’d walk into town. I need the exercise.” She waited by the edge of the shoveled sidewalk while Holly came to a puffing stop beside her.
“Would you do me a favor?” Holly fumbled around, trying to get her hands into her pockets.
“What?” Leslie
Her crutches clattered to the floor with a resounding crash!
For a split second, it startled both of them, jarring them apart. Leslie realized instantly what she’d done and muttered impotently, “Damn this broken leg.”
Running feet were already tearing toward the kitchen from the living room as Tagg bent down toretrieve the crutches. He was just handing them to her when Holly burst into the room.
“What happened?” she asked in wide-eyed alarm. “What was that racket?”
“Leslie dropped her crutches. It made a lot of noise, but that’s all,” Tagg assured her.
Her aunt appeared in the doorway behind Holly. “She didn’t fall did she?”
“No,” Leslie answered for herself. “The crutches just slipped out of my hands.”
“Boy, it really scared me!” Holly declared, holding a hand to her throat. “I thought something terrible had happened.”
“Nothing did,” Tagg repeated. “You’d better get your things together. It’s long past your bedtime.”
“That’s okay. I don’t have school tomorrow. It’s Saturday, remember?” she protested that the evening had to draw to a close so soon.
“Saturday or not, it’s time you were in bed,” he insisted, and crossed the kitchen to take his coat off the wall hook. “Thanks again for the cider and the gingerbread, Mrs. Evans.”
“She said I could call her Aunt Patsy if I wanted,” Holly informed him as she tried to get her arm into the other coat sleeve.
“Then tell her goodnight and thanks.” Tagg helped her find the opening.
“Goodnight, Aunt Patsy, and thanks for everything.” Now that the decision was made to leave, she wasn’t taking any time over it. “Goodnight, Leslie.”
“Goodnight.” To Tagg, she added, “Thanks for asking me along tonight.”
“Jingle Bells, Holly, and all.” His mouth twitched with a brief smile before his glance shifted down to her lips, then he was reaching for the door and pushing Holly toward it. “Goodnight, Mrs. Evans.”
After they had gone, her aunt walked over to the sink. “I’ll wash up those dishes, Aunt Patsy,” Leslie volunteered.
“There isn’t even a good sinkful here. We’ll do them with the breakfast dishes in the morning. I thought that you might have gotten your hands wet because you’d put them to soak. But I guess your crutches fell for some other reason.” Her aunt didn’t elaborate on what she thought the reason might be.
“Yes, I guess so.”
“There’s enough cider here for two more mugs.” Her aunt checked the contents of the pan. “Shall we finish it?”
“Sure.” Leslie moved to get the mugs.
“I’ve been thinking,” her aunt began. “Maybe weshould ask Taggart and his daughter to come over Christmas Eve and have oyster stew with us.”
“I think that would be a nice idea,” Leslie agreed. “Maybe I could buy a little something for Holly—for a Christmas present.”
“You could,” her aunt nodded in an approving manner.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” Leslie decided.
The next morning was as bright and clear as the previous night had been, and the temperature was almost as cold despite the golden sun shining down. Bundled up in her heavy jacket, gloves, and ski cap, Leslie was humming to herself as she did her three-legged walk down the driveway to the sidewalk.
“Where are you going, Leslie?” Holly came racing out of the house, her snow jacket unzipped and flopping open, and the hood barely staying on her head.
“I thought I’d walk into town. I need the exercise.” She waited by the edge of the shoveled sidewalk while Holly came to a puffing stop beside her.
“Would you do me a favor?” Holly fumbled around, trying to get her hands into her pockets.
“What?” Leslie
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