On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride. Debbie Macomber

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      “Propose?” He’d only proposed to one woman, the one watching him from two tables away. “I told you already—I’m not seeing anyone.”

      “You were never able to keep a secret from me, Thomas. I’m your mother.”

      He stared at her blankly, not knowing how to respond. “What makes you think I’ve met someone?”

      “It isn’t think, Thom, I know. I told your father, too. Ask him if you don’t believe me. I noticed it the day you came home from your business trip to California. It was the sparkle in your eyes.”

      “California?” Thom tried to recall the trip. It had been a quick one, and strictly business. But on the return flight, he’d bumped into Noelle McDowell.

      Noelle got home after lunch with Kristen to discover her mother sitting in the family room, stocking feet propped up on the ottoman. She leaned back against the sofa cushion and held an icepack to her forehead.

      “Mom?” Noelle whispered. “Are you ill?”

      “Thank goodness someone’s finally home,” her mother said, lowering the bag of ice.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “Never in all your life could you guess the kind of morning I had.” She clutched Noelle’s arm as she spoke.

      “What happened?”

      Sarah closed her eyes. “I can’t even tell you about it. I have never been more humiliated.”

      “Does this have something to do with Mrs. Sutton?”

      Her mother’s eyes sprang open in sheer terror. “You heard about it? Who told you?”

      “Ah…”

      “She’s going to report it in the newspaper, I just know she is. I wouldn’t put it past her to use her news column to smear my good name. It was her fault, you know. She followed me, and then purposely rammed her cart into mine. And that was only the beginning.”

      An ugly picture began to take shape in Noelle’s mind. A Sutton/McDowell confrontation would explain the fierce looks Thom had sent her way during lunch. The fact that he’d showed up at The Rose Garden—with his mother in tow—was a coincidence she could have done without.

      Kristen had invited her to lunch, and then after a few minutes of small talk, her sister had immediately turned to the subject that happened to be on Noelle’s mind: Thom Sutton. Noelle had described the disaster at the movies the day before and reluctantly confessed her part. To her consternation, Kristen had thought the incident downright hilarious. Noelle, however, had yet to recover from the embarrassment of knowing that Thom had seen her resort to such childish behavior.

      Now their mother had been involved in another confrontation with Mary Sutton. If her present state of mind was anything to go by, Sarah had come out of it badly. Judging by what Noelle had seen of Mrs. Sutton at the restaurant, she wasn’t the least bit disturbed.

      “The police took down our names and—”

      “The police?”

      “Value-X Security, but they wear those cute blue uniforms and look just like regular policemen.”

      “They took your names? What for?”

      Her mother covered her face with both hands. “I can’t talk about it.”

      The door off the garage opened and in walked Noelle’s father. “Dad,” she said, hoping to prepare him. “Something happened to Mom this morning.”

      “Oh, Jake…” Her mother languished in her seat as though she lacked the energy to even lift her head.

      “Sarah?”

      “Apparently Mom and Mrs. Sutton tangled with security at the Value-X this morning.”

      “We more than tangled,” her mother insisted, her voice rising, “we were…banished. The officer who escorted me out told me I won’t be allowed inside the store for three months.” She bit her lip and swallowed a loud sob. “I don’t know if I misunderstood him, but I think I might be permanently banned from all blue-light specials.”

      “No!” Her father feigned outrage.

      “Jake, this is serious.”

      “Of course it is,” he agreed. “I take it this is Mary’s doing?”

      Her mother’s fist hit the sofa arm. “I swear to you she started it!”

      “You don’t need to tell me what happened,” Jake said. “I can guess.”

      So could Noelle.

      “From here on out, I absolutely refuse to be in the same room as that woman.” She sat straighter, jaw firm, head back. “For years I’ve had to deal with her…her malice, and I won’t put up with it anymore!”

      Jake reached for Sarah’s hand and gently patted it. “You’re absolutely right—you shouldn’t.”

      Her mother’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you mean? Are you being sarcastic?”

      “Of course not, dear,” he said reassuringly. “But there’s no need to rehash old history, is there?”

      “No-o-o.” Noelle heard her mother’s hesitation.

      “Not going to the Christmas dance will show Mary Sutton that she won’t have you to kick around anymore.”

      As far as Noelle was concerned, missing the Century Club Christmas dance was far from a tragedy. The only reason she’d agreed to attend was to placate her mother. This mysterious incident at the Value-X was a blessing in disguise; it seemed her father saw it in the same light. She just hoped he hadn’t overplayed his hand with that last ringing pronouncement.

      “Who said anything about not going to the dance?” her mother demanded.

      “You did.” Her father turned to Noelle for agreement, which she offered with a solemn nod.

      “Yes, Mom, you just said you won’t be in the same room with that woman ever again.”

      “I did?”

      “Yes, sweetheart,” Noelle’s father said. “And I agree wholeheartedly. Missing the dance is a small price to pay if it means protecting your peace of mind.”

      “We aren’t going to the dance?” Carley asked, entering the room. She looked disappointed, but then Noelle’s little sister was too young to understand what a lucky escape she’d just had.

      “No,” Jake said. “We’re going to skip the dance this year, and perhaps every year from now on. We won’t let Mary Sutton hurt your mother’s feelings or her reputation again!”

      “We’re going,” her mother insisted.

      “But sweetheart—”

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