Kate Little – Jingle Bell Baby (страница 1)
Table of Contents
Clint Had Daisy Nestled On His
Broad Shoulder.
His deep, warm voice lulled Jessie as he hummed to the baby. The tune sounded like a combination of “Baa-baa Black Sheep” and “New York, New York.” Jessie couldn’t quite make it out, but that made no difference. He was quite a sight. So handsome and strong, so intoxicatingly masculine, and yet so gentle and tender to the precious package in his arms.
Jessie allowed herself to fantasize for just an instant that all her wishes had come true. She had woken up to the kind of Christmas morning she had dreamed about—both Daisy and Clint belonged to her…
And she belonged to them.
Dear Reader,
Happy holidays from the staff at Silhouette Desire! As you can see by the special cover treatment this month, these books are our holiday gifts to you. And each and every story is so wonderful that I know you’ll want to buy extras to give to your friends! We begin with Jackie Merritt’s MAN OF THE MONTH,
And Susan Connell begins a new miniseries—THE GIRLS MOST LIKELY TO…—about three former high school friends who are now all grown up in
Happy holidays and happy reading from
AND THE STAFF OF SILHOUETTE DESIRE
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Jingle Bell Baby
Kate Little
claims to have a lot of experience with romance—”The
To Spencer, my “real life” romance hero and to our precious “Kate Little.”
Jessica yanked another tissue from the box on her desk, dabbed her eyes, then soundly smacked the side of the old portable TV to clear the static. She didn’t know why she kept watching this darn old movie. It must have been the fifth time since Thanksgiving and it still made her weepy. A person would think a person spending Christmas Eve alone would know better.
“Bet I could lip synch the entire script by now,” she muttered. “Bells ring. Angels get their wings. Everyone in Bedford Falls lives happily ever after…”
On the small screen a young, smooth-cheeked Jimmy Stewart swooped his daughter up with one arm and with his other, hugged his adoring wife. All around them, a circle of friends and family smiled and sighed, radiating love and holiday cheer..
Jessica sniffed into a tissue as the theme music rose up and the happy scene faded.
The picture suddenly changed to a commercial, a homespun production featuring a local used-car dealer dressed as Santa, ho-hoing his way around a snowy car lot.
As Jessica snapped off the set, she heard the bells on the entrance to the café jingle, announcing the arrival of a late customer.
A very late customer. And the only one so far tonight. She wiped her eyes with another tissue and quickly smoothed back her hair. A few reddish gold curls escaped from her lopsided, upswept hairdo and she pushed them behind her ears.
Whoever was stopping by so late had better be satisfied with nothing more than coffee. Make that coffee to go. She didn’t have the energy to start messing up the kitchen, not at midnight, when she should have flipped the Closed sign in the window an hour ago. And she would have, too, if that ridiculous movie hadn’t distracted her. And if she’d had somewhere to go tonight, or someone to go to…
“Be right with you—” she called out as she left the small room that doubled as the café’s storeroom and office. She walked briskly through the big kitchen and pushed through the swinging doors into the seating area, grabbing the coffeepot en route in a gesture that had become total reflex.
She glanced around, all set to explain that the menu was extremely limited. But the dining area, gaily decorated with lights and pine garlands, was empty. She looked around twice to make sure. Whoever had come in had left. Maybe over the TV she hadn’t heard them enter, and the bells had signaled their exit?
Then she saw it—a large wicker laundry basket sat smack in the middle of the counter. Right between the cash register and a stainless-steel napkin dispenser. A plaid woolen blanket stuck out of the top. What in the world—was this some kind of joke? Jessica put the coffeepot on the counter and looked around the dining area again, this time peering in the wooden phone booth and then out through the front window at Hope Springs’ desolate Main Street.
The snow that had started hours ago now fell fast and thick. The town’s Main Street, with its old-fashioned storefronts, holiday decorations and cast-iron streetlights, looked like a scene that had been lifted right off a Christmas card.
“Not a creature was stirring,” she whispered to herself, turning back to look at the basket. “Not even a—”
Her breath caught in her throat as a small white hand popped up from the blanket. She blinked and shook her head. Then, just as unbelievably, a small bare foot emerged, as well. Hypnotized, Jessica watched as the tiny hand swatted the air, grabbed for the foot and finally caught it. Then a sound, an unmistakable baby gurgle of satisfaction, followed.
With her heart pounding wildly in her chest, Jessica ran over to the basket and swiftly flipped the blanket aside. A bit of powdery snow that had collected in the folds sprinkled down to the floor.
“Oh my Lord!” Jessie said out loud.
A baby stared up at her, looking serious and wide-eyed, still clutching its foot in one hand. Not quite believing that the infant was real, Jessica reached out and ran one fingertip gently along the baby’s smooth pink cheek. The baby tilted its chin against its chest, looking as if it might burst out crying. Then suddenly the baby smiled and clutched Jessie’s finger in a sticky grip.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jessie cooed. The baby’s smile widened in response.
The baby appeared to be wrapped in about three flannel receiving blankets that were now bunched around its middle. Jessica worked her way through the blankets and found that the baby was dressed in nothing more than a thin and stained pink-and-white nightgown. She reached into the basket and pulled the baby out, holding its small warm body close to her chest. “Where did you come from, little angel? Huh?”
The baby put a fist in its mouth, then rested its head against Jessica’s shoulder. Golden curls rubbed against her cheek and Jessie thought she’d never felt anything so soft and fine. A mixture of baby lotion, formula and some other subtle, elusive perfume mingled in a scent that was distinctly baby. Jessica took a rich, intoxicating lungful and felt her heart clutch. Yes, there was indeed a lump of genuine, delectable babyhood in her arms. Pink and white and sweet as spun sugar. A lamb. A dove. A real live baby. Holding the baby to her chest in a firm but gentle embrace, she rocked from side to side, quieting the baby’s soft whimpers.
“You’re okay, kid. You’re okay with me, little sweet potato,” Jessie whispered.
The blankets had been dragged out of the basket and now Jessica could see that under the cushy bed the basket held some baby clothes, a number of disposable diapers and a plastic bottle.
A scrap of paper taped to the basket caught her eye and she pulled it off. It was a note written on a piece of white writing paper, folded in half and addressed on the outside “To Whoever Finds This Baby.” Jessica sat down on one of the counter stools and propped the baby in the crook of her arm so she could read the note.