A Wyoming Christmas To Remember. Melissa Senate
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Название: A Wyoming Christmas To Remember
Автор: Melissa Senate
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: The Wyoming Multiples
isbn: 9781474091763
isbn:
Yikes. “I feel awful,” Maddie said, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “He was so honest about it. It’s not fair to him.”
“And it’s not fair to you either, Maddie,” Jenna said gently. “You were both always honest with each other. But suddenly time stopped being on your side. And let me tell you, having a pregnant twin sister didn’t help.”
Maddie eyed her twin’s big, lovely belly. “I bet.” She sucked in a breath. “All I want now is my memory back. My life back. I don’t even remember wanting a baby. I don’t really know what that would even feel like.”
“Well, maybe you and Sawyer can use this time to get to know each other all over again without that stalemate pressing on you. It’s always been there the past few years, worse this past year. But now the two of you can just be Maddie and Sawyer again. For a time anyway.”
Maddie nodded. “Because my memory will come back. Dr. Addison said it could be a week, three weeks, possibly longer, but she thinks just a few weeks.”
“It’ll all come back. With these new memories you’re making every moment now.”
“Do you think we were headed for a separation?” Maddie asked.
Jenna frowned. “I can’t even imagine it. You were class BFFs every year since first grade. You were MadSaw—your own celebrity nickname. You guys love each other.”
“He said he made all kinds of bargains while I was unconscious. That if I woke up, he’d give me ten kids.”
“He told you that?” Jenna asked, touching a hand to her heart.
Maddie nodded. “That’s not how I want to start my family off. I’d want to have a baby with a man who wanted that baby. Not because of a harrowing bargain he made skyward.”
“Oh, Maddie. It’s complicated, right? Just get to know your husband during this time. You’ll be getting to know yourself too. You’re still you.”
“Excuse me?” a very pregnant woman said. “Do you make programmable lullaby players? My husband is a budding country singer, and we want a player that has those stars-and-moons lights for the ceiling while playing my husband singing.”
“Absolutely,” Jenna said. “I just ordered my version of that. Little cows jumping over the moon to the tune of lullabies sung by one of my favorite singers. Let me show you our catalog.”
The woman’s face lit up. Suddenly Maddie realized that she may have been more a back-office type because all the moms-to-be buying such fun stuff must have made Maddie feel very left out.
The door jangled and there was Sawyer. Maddie wrapped her sister in a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You helped a lot.”
Jenna hugged her back and waved at Sawyer. “I’m always here for you.”
Maddie smiled and left Jenna to her customer. Suddenly she felt a lot better and a little heavyhearted about what was to come.
But as she walked over to Sawyer, the handsome, green-eyed man in the brown leather jacket, she wanted to wrap her arms around him—tight. That much she knew for sure.
They walked home from town, Maddie linking her arm through his, which buoyed him like nothing else. There was affection in that gesture, a degree of trust, and that meant a great deal to him since he’d lost that over the past several months. Once, for a very long time, she’d believed he’d never hurt her. Then he’d started outwardly denying her what she wanted most. And the bond began fraying.
Now, in the simplest way, he felt her saying yes to him, to them.
“How about lasagna for dinner?” he asked. “Your mother really did stock the freezer after your accident. She said all that cooking gave her something to do with her mind and hands or she’d have gone nuts. There are five containers of lasagna alone.”
Then again, Sawyer thought he should be doing more for Maddie than just heating up her very kind mother’s bounty of food. But April MacLeod was a great cook and he a mediocre one, and she’d made their favorites. Lasagna. Shepherd’s pie. Fettuccini carbonara. Her amazing chili and three pans of corn bread, which Sawyer could polish off in one sitting. He felt like he should be cooking for her, figuring out how to make some of her favorite dishes, such as blackened salmon, without burning it, and risotto.
“Do I love lasagna?” she asked.
“It’s only your very favorite food on earth. Mine too. We used to make it as teenagers. I did a layer, you did a layer and then we’d stuff our faces.”
She smiled. “What else do I love?”
“Blackened everything. Also, fish tacos. Caesar salad. Cheeseburgers. The Pie Diner’s chili potpie. Your mother’s brisket. Coffee chip ice cream.”
“What don’t I like?” she asked. “In general, I mean.”
“That you can’t figure out yoga. You don’t like corn. You don’t like horror movies.”
She smiled. “What did I do when I wasn’t working?”
“Well, the past few months you started volunteering for the town’s Holiday Happymakers program. You devoted quite a few hours a day to it.”
“Holiday Happymakers? What’s that?”
“A group that plans ways the town can help those who can’t afford Christmas or can’t do much in the way of celebrating because of illness or other issues. You started an adopt-a-family program to provide holiday decorations and gifts for each family member. Anyone can leave a letter on the Christmas tree in the community center with a wish list for the family or a relative.”
“I sound kind!” she said. “Glad to hear it.”
“You are. Very.”
“What was Christmas like when you were growing up?” she asked.
He frowned at the thought. “I spent every Christmas at your house. My dad didn’t always have his act together, or he disappeared to a girlfriend’s. Your parents always hung a stocking for me—stuffed it too. And there were always presents for me under the tree. I got them gifts, too, and always wished I could have afforded better than a scented candle for your parents. But that’s what I got them every year.”
“Aw,” she said. “I’ll bet they loved it.”
“Your СКАЧАТЬ