His eyes were kind as they touched Holly’s face. “A person’s got to follow their heart, Miss Llewellyn. And sometimes it don’t lead where they’d like it to, but they gotta go after it anyway.”
So he did know that the relationship between her and Skyler was over. If it had ever really existed at all.
“I’m hoping that Skyler will find someone else soon,” she said, her voice trembling a little. Cool snowflakes collected on her eyelashes and chilled her cheeks, and Holly glanced ahead at the laughing Mary Ann. “Maybe…”
Mr. Hollis looked pleased, and he gave a guffaw of laughter. “Maybe so,” he agreed.
As if to lend the theory credence, Skyler lunged at a gleefully shrieking Mary Ann and threw her down into the snow, rubbing a handful in her face. She came up sputtering and laughing, making exuberant threats. Toby, having watched all this with mingled delight and uncertainty, hurled a questioning look back at Holly.
It’s all right, she told him with her smile, and his face was again alight with the joys of the day.
There was a bewildering array of trees to choose from, but Holly, her jeans snow-sodden to her knees, was not inclined to be persnickety. Skyler shook out a fragrant fir that stood about seven feet tall and appeared to be symmetrical, and she nodded in answer to the question in his eyes.
Mr. Hollis handed over the small hatchet he carried, saying he was “too derned old” for such carryings-on, and Skyler chopped down the tree.
With Toby frolicking at his heels like a puppy—for thiswas proof that Christmas, that most elusive of childhood days, was truly coming—Skyler began dragging the tree back toward the house.
“Don’t you want a tree for yourself?” Holly asked him, ignoring the territorial looks from Mary Ann. These, she supposed, were her just due for falling into step beside Skyler.
“I’ll get one another time,” he said softly.
Holly knew then that he had contrived the whole idea of tracking down a Christmas tree for her benefit; after all, it was still three full weeks until the holiday. He had seen how upset she was, sensed that she was frazzled and overwrought, and tried to help.
A feeling like love but sadly different twisted in her throat. “Thank you, Sky,” she said gently.
Skyler only shrugged, but when he shifted his attention to Mary Ann and started teasing her his voice was a determinedly cheerful boom.
Mary Ann gloried in the attention, though she pretended to be outraged, and Toby jumped and leaped in the scratchy snow trail left in the wake of the fallen tree, his cheeks pink, his china-blue eyes shining. How mercifully innocent he was just now, Holly thought, how unaware he still was of the complications that lay ahead in the process of growing up.
They ate a sumptuous dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and country gravy, biscuits, and green beans that Mrs. Hollis had put up herself. She and Mary Ann talked so easily about farm things; the prices they could get for cream and eggs, the patterns they would use for sewing their Christmas dresses, whether to plant peas on St. Valentine’s Day or later on, in March.
Holly listened with interest and a sort of weary nostalgia, and when the meal was over, she volunteered to do the dishes. Mrs. Hollis, having worked in the kitchen all day, was obviously tired.
Skyler and Mr. Hollis and Toby went outside to tie the Christmas tree to the roof of Skyler’s car, and Mrs. Hollis retired to the living room to “put her feet up for a spell.” Mary Ann, her eyes looking everywhere but at Holly, stayed to help with the dishes.
Holly felt a need to put Skyler’s friend at ease. After all, Mary Ann belonged here, fitting in better than Holly herself ever could.
“You and Sky have been friends for a long time,” she said quietly, taking up a flour-sack dish towel when Mary Ann had elbowed her away from the sink.
Now Mary Ann’s dark, beautiful eyes swung to Holly’s face, confused, but wary
So he did know that the relationship between her and Skyler was over. If it had ever really existed at all.
“I’m hoping that Skyler will find someone else soon,” she said, her voice trembling a little. Cool snowflakes collected on her eyelashes and chilled her cheeks, and Holly glanced ahead at the laughing Mary Ann. “Maybe…”
Mr. Hollis looked pleased, and he gave a guffaw of laughter. “Maybe so,” he agreed.
As if to lend the theory credence, Skyler lunged at a gleefully shrieking Mary Ann and threw her down into the snow, rubbing a handful in her face. She came up sputtering and laughing, making exuberant threats. Toby, having watched all this with mingled delight and uncertainty, hurled a questioning look back at Holly.
It’s all right, she told him with her smile, and his face was again alight with the joys of the day.
There was a bewildering array of trees to choose from, but Holly, her jeans snow-sodden to her knees, was not inclined to be persnickety. Skyler shook out a fragrant fir that stood about seven feet tall and appeared to be symmetrical, and she nodded in answer to the question in his eyes.
Mr. Hollis handed over the small hatchet he carried, saying he was “too derned old” for such carryings-on, and Skyler chopped down the tree.
With Toby frolicking at his heels like a puppy—for thiswas proof that Christmas, that most elusive of childhood days, was truly coming—Skyler began dragging the tree back toward the house.
“Don’t you want a tree for yourself?” Holly asked him, ignoring the territorial looks from Mary Ann. These, she supposed, were her just due for falling into step beside Skyler.
“I’ll get one another time,” he said softly.
Holly knew then that he had contrived the whole idea of tracking down a Christmas tree for her benefit; after all, it was still three full weeks until the holiday. He had seen how upset she was, sensed that she was frazzled and overwrought, and tried to help.
A feeling like love but sadly different twisted in her throat. “Thank you, Sky,” she said gently.
Skyler only shrugged, but when he shifted his attention to Mary Ann and started teasing her his voice was a determinedly cheerful boom.
Mary Ann gloried in the attention, though she pretended to be outraged, and Toby jumped and leaped in the scratchy snow trail left in the wake of the fallen tree, his cheeks pink, his china-blue eyes shining. How mercifully innocent he was just now, Holly thought, how unaware he still was of the complications that lay ahead in the process of growing up.
They ate a sumptuous dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and country gravy, biscuits, and green beans that Mrs. Hollis had put up herself. She and Mary Ann talked so easily about farm things; the prices they could get for cream and eggs, the patterns they would use for sewing their Christmas dresses, whether to plant peas on St. Valentine’s Day or later on, in March.
Holly listened with interest and a sort of weary nostalgia, and when the meal was over, she volunteered to do the dishes. Mrs. Hollis, having worked in the kitchen all day, was obviously tired.
Skyler and Mr. Hollis and Toby went outside to tie the Christmas tree to the roof of Skyler’s car, and Mrs. Hollis retired to the living room to “put her feet up for a spell.” Mary Ann, her eyes looking everywhere but at Holly, stayed to help with the dishes.
Holly felt a need to put Skyler’s friend at ease. After all, Mary Ann belonged here, fitting in better than Holly herself ever could.
“You and Sky have been friends for a long time,” she said quietly, taking up a flour-sack dish towel when Mary Ann had elbowed her away from the sink.
Now Mary Ann’s dark, beautiful eyes swung to Holly’s face, confused, but wary
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