How the Grump Saved Christmas

by Claire Kingsley

My heart tried to do something. Start beating again, maybe. Whatever it was, it hurt and I did not like it. Straightening my shoulders, I swallowed back the sensation. Forced it behind a wall of ice where it wouldn’t get in the way. When she turned to face me, her eyes widening with surprise, I didn’t even flinch. Despite the fact that she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“How do I look at her?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Like you want to jingle her bells.” I groaned. “Fine, you want to deck her halls with—” “Stop. No holiday sex puns.” “You’re no fun.”

He was irresistible. And dangerous. As much as I wanted him to be a cozy fire on a snowy winter day, he could just as easily be an out of control blaze, and burn my heart to a crisp.

“Merry Christmas,” a customer said after I’d helped load her tree into the bed of her pickup truck. “Merry Christmas,” I muttered in reply. “Aw, look at you giving out holiday greetings,” Alice said behind me. “Did it hurt?”

“I’m going to see Santa,” Maddie said. I eyed her. “Let me guess. You’re going to wish for world peace.” She giggled. “No. I want a `merica doll.” My brow furrowed. I had no idea what that meant. “She means an American Girl doll. They have one with crutches but they’re not exactly affordable. I guess whether or not Santa can bring her one depends on whether Mommy gets a holiday bonus this year.” Alice gave me a smug grin. My gaze moved from her to Maddie. She still smiled at me with those big, hopeful eyes. “Well played. You’ll get a bonus.”

She was melting more of the ice around my heart, and in spite of the fear of what she’d find in the hole in my chest, I couldn’t stop it.

Maybe I didn’t want to.

Do you remember what you said to me the first time I came back to the farm?” “To leave and never come back?” “Probably. But you also said I wasn’t happy. And you were right. I didn’t even realize how unhappy I was. But I was miserable. It wasn’t just because I’d let greed drive me for so long, although that was part of it. I was miserable because I didn’t have you.” “Don’t,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Don’t do this unless you mean it. My heart can’t take it.” I leaned closer and pressed my palm against her cheek. “I mean it. I love you, Belle.”