Christmas in Eternity Springs

 

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About the Author

Copyright Page

 

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To the members of the Emily March Fans group (I want to call it a sisterhood) on Goodreads, led by the most fabulous Paula Radell. You women warm my heart. Merry Christmas!

 

Acknowledgments

I want to thank the outstanding team at St. Martin's Press for their enthusiastic support of all things Eternity Springs, in particular my editor, Rose Hilliard. It's a pleasure to work with you. To my agents, Meg Ruley and Christina Hogrebe at the Jane Rotrosen Agency, your professionalism and support are beyond compare. To my personal support team: Mary Dickerson, Christina Dodd, Nicole Burnham, Susan Sizemore, Mary Lou Jarrell, Caitlin Williams and Steve Williams, maybe by book 50 I'll figure out how not to be quite so crazy at deadline time. But probably not. I love you guys dearly.

 

Prologue

DECEMBER

DALLAS, TEXAS

The fragrance of Christmas swept into the house along with the tree that the garden center's deliverymen carried inside. As they placed the twelve-foot-tall blue spruce into the stand she'd positioned in front of the living room picture window, Claire Branham allowed herself to reflect on the once-upon-a-time memories triggered by the scent.

Days of Christmas Past. Such happy times—laughter and excitement and family traditions. A home filled with love. All lost, wiped away by the reality of illness and death and broken hearts.

As she watched the workers secure the tree to the stand, she reflected upon what a momentous occasion this was for her. She hadn't put up a Christmas tree in a very long time. For Claire, Black Friday didn't represent the beginning of the holiday shopping season. It signified the day the doctor's office called and changed the lives of everyone she loved.

Fifteen Christmases had passed since that first life-altering year. Some years, she'd gone through the motions of participation, even though her heart wasn't in it. Other years, she did her best to ignore it entirely. Mostly, she'd muddled through, grumpy and unhappy and counting the days until the season was over for another year.

“That should do it,” said one of the deliverymen, stepping back from the tree. He handed Claire a little green bottle of preservative. “Mix this with water according to the directions. Add water as needed. Doesn't hurt to check it every day, but it needs to be watered at least every other day.”

“Thank you.”

“You picked a pretty one, Ms. Branham. You have a perfect spot for a tree in this home. Now…” He flipped a page on his clipboard. “Are we decorating the tree, too, or just doing the outdoor lighting and decorations?”

“You're hanging the outdoor lights and helping with the high things inside the house. I'm saving the tree to decorate until my fiancé gets home from a business trip tomorrow.”

Claire showed him the outdoor decorations in her garage, then went back inside to begin draping garland on the staircase. Anticipation made her feel like a child on Christmas morning. It had been years since she'd decorated a tree, and she couldn't wait to do it again. This year, Claire wasn't spending her holiday season with her Grinch on. She was going all Elf. Because for the first time in forever, the thought of the holiday season made Claire happy.

It started on Black Friday. Rather than launching her usual month-long depression, Black Friday this year got Claire off to a joyful holiday start. After she and Landon ran the Turkey Trot 10K on Thanksgiving morning, she'd sent him off to the airport with a kiss and a turkey sandwich so he could make his early afternoon flight to the West Coast where he had meetings scheduled with movie executives. Friday morning, rather than lie in bed with her covers over her head as in years past, Claire had bounded out of bed early, joined the shopping hoards, and had a ball doing it.

It set the tone for her days as she anticipated Landon's return. Claire was happy and excited and joyful. With Landon's help, she had climbed her way out of the valley of loss and loneliness and found her happiness. Now, she was finding her Christmas spirit again.

She had volunteer work to thank for it, since that's how she'd met the love of her life. Volunteer work and a book that was special to her heart. There was a lesson there, one she intended to honor for the rest of her days, because from that relatively simple act of generosity, dreams beyond her wildest imaginings were coming true.

Tomorrow would be yet another milestone. She and Landon would be celebrating their first Christmas in their new home, so the time had come to begin making their own family traditions. She had it all planned. She'd have carols playing softly on the stereo system, a fire in the fireplace, and mulled wine simmering on the stove.

She'd be wearing a little something special from Victoria's Secret.

She simply couldn't wait. She'd had a ridiculous amount of fun shopping for the lights and ornaments and decorations for the tree. She'd even bought and worn a Santa hat while she went about it.

She made their bed with the holiday sheets and comforter, hung holiday towels in the bathroom. She dressed the dining room table with a crimson and gold table runner, and as a centerpiece, used glass ornaments in a crystal bowl. By mid-afternoon, the lights were strung, wreaths hung, and stockings lay draped across the easy chair. Stocking hanging would be one of their traditions, she'd decided. Together, they'd hang the stockings and decorate the tree, ending with the most special Christmas tradition of all—placing her precious Christmas angel named Gardenia atop their tree.

Claire was excited, so excited in fact, that she didn't want to spend the evening home alone and watching a movie like she'd originally planned. She could dive into the holiday baking she intended to do. She'd bought ingredients for her mother's traditional Christmas fudge, three different kinds of her favorite Christmas cookies, and a cake she wanted to try.

She debated the idea for a long moment, then shook her head. Her mother used to say that baking was best done in the mornings.

Maybe she'd do a little more shopping or, even better, a lot of shopping. She could afford it, couldn't she? She'd been meaning to make a run over to Cook Children's Hospital in Fort Worth to check out the waiting rooms and see what was on their wish lists. Why not go today? She could visit the hospitals and maybe have dinner at one of the restaurants on the square downtown. She'd heard the Christmas decorations there were lovely. After dinner, she could stop in at the Texas Ranger baseball shop and pick up another gift for Landon. The man was such a huge Ranger fan. He loved baseball, the law, and her.

Liking the idea, she changed clothes, loaded up her wallet with cash, checks, and cards, and started out the door. At the threshold, she hesitated. She was going to Cook Children's. Maybe she should go prepared. What would be more appropriate than spending a few hours doing the thing that led her to Landon and to all of her happiness today?

Decision made, she grabbed her book tote, checked the contents, then detoured to the family room where Gardenia awaited her big moment the following day. Claire tucked her gently into the bag, then did a slow turn around to soak in the joy of having her home spruced up for Christmas. “It's good. I've missed this. I shouldn't have let it go.”

She gave the jingle bells hanging on her door a little shake, then left her north Dallas home. Traffic was light, and the drive to Fort Worth took a little over half an hour. She made her way to the volunteer office at the children's hospital where she gave the receptionist a little of her history and explained what she wanted to do.

“Oh, that's just wonderful,” a middle-aged woman dressed in slacks, a white shirt, and pink vest said. “So generous! My name is Lisa Norris and I'm happy to show you around, but you really need to speak with our coordinator, Stella Hewitt. The Jewel Charity Ball is tonight—Cook's is the beneficiary—and she's meeting with the chairpersons. Stella will know what needs are being met and what wishes are still on our list, but I'm not sure she has time in her schedule to meet with you.”

“That's okay. We can do that over the phone another time. I'd like to look at the waiting rooms while I'm here.”

“Of course.” Smiling, Lisa said, “Follow me. We will start in orthopedics.”

Claire stepped out into the hall to wait for her escort. The woman gave a brief history of the hospital while she led Claire to waiting rooms on the first and second floors. Claire took a notebook from her purse and began to sketch ideas. After viewing a waiting room on the third floor, she had her head down looking at her notes when her escort stopped.

“This is handy,” Lisa said. She raised her voice. “Stella? Do you have a moment?”

Claire glanced up with a smile on her face. She saw an attractive woman in her early sixties exiting a boardroom followed by a younger couple. Claire's steps slowed. Her smile faltered. Landon? What was he doing here?

And why was that tall, leggy blonde wrapped around him?

Lisa said, “Stella, I know you're frightfully busy, but I'd like to introduce you to Claire Branham. She wants to make a directed donation to outfit our waiting rooms here. Would you have a few moments to visit with her?”

“Of course,” the older woman said. She approached Claire, her hand extended. “I'm Stella Hewitt. These are two of the chairpersons for tonight's Jewel Ball, Jennifer Perryman and her husband, Landon.”

Her husband, Landon Perryman. Her husband.

My fiancé.

The man wearing a two-thousand-dollar suit and an “oh shit” look on his face.

As the room began to spin, she gazed back at Landon. She could almost see his calculating brain at work. He took a half step toward her, the clingy blonde in tow. “Claire.”

She shook her head, lifted her hand palm out to fend off anything he might try to say. She brought her left hand up and placed it over her breaking heart. “Excuse me, I'm going to be sick.”

There was a door to the ladies' room ten steps beyond him. Her stomach churning, she started forward. The bile rose and when she was a mere step away, she caught a whiff of his familiar aftershave.