Page 14 of The Bear's Christmas Wish
Emmy flung the door open, letting in a blast of frigid December air that made Sarah shiver. She grabbed her coat from the hook and pulled it on quickly, then reached for Emmy’s.
“Here, put this on before you catch cold,” she said, handing the small red coat to Emmy, who was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Mittens and scarves, too!” Pat called out from the living room in an amused tone.
“On it!” Emmy shrugged into her coat, then snatched her rainbow scarf from the hook and wrapped it haphazardly around her neck. She hopped on one foot, then the other as she tugged on her snow boots, then her mittens, refusing to take her eyes off the window where Michael’s truck was now reversing expertly into their driveway.
Sarah pulled on her own boots, grateful for the moment to collect herself. What was it about this man that made her feel like a teenager again? She was a grown woman, a mother, with responsibilities and priorities that didn’t include getting flustered over a handsome tree farmer.
Together, they stepped out onto the porch. The cold air nipped at Sarah’s cheeks as she watched Michael switch off his headlights and cut the engine. Emmy slipped her small hand into Sarah’s and looked up, her face glowing with happiness.
“Thank you, Mom,” Emmy whispered, squeezing her hand. “This is going to be thebestChristmas ever.”
Sarah’s throat tightened as she fought to control the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside her that left her eyes sparkling with tears. The worry she’d carried since the divorce—that she was somehow failing her daughter by upending their life—seemed to melt away in the face of Emmy’s joy. They were going to be okay.
No. They already were okay.
Michael emerged from the cab, the interior light illuminating his broad shoulders and the dark curls peeking from beneath his knit cap. Emmy tugged at Sarah’s hand, pulling her forward to meet him.
“Hello there,” Michael called, his breath visible in the cold air. “Special delivery for Emmy Carter.”
Emmy dropped Sarah’s hand and bounced on her toes. “You’ve come to the right house,” she declared with all the seriousness a seven-year-old could muster.
“Thanks so much for bringing the tree,” Sarah said, suddenly aware of how close he was standing. She could smell the pine sap on his clothes, mixed with something woodsy and warm that was uniquely him.
“All part of the service,” Michael replied, but the look he flashed her said so much more. His eyes held hers for a heartbeat too long, and Sarah felt heat rise to her cheeks despite the cold.
A moment of charged silence stretched between them, broken only when Emmy tugged at Michael’s sleeve.
“Come on, let’s get this beauty in the house!” Emmy declared, gesturing dramatically toward the tree.
Sarah and Michael both laughed, the tension dissolving into something lighter, more comfortable. Working together, they untied the tree from the truck bed. Michael did most of the heavy lifting, his movements strong and sure as he hoisted the spruce onto his shoulder.
“Emmy, would you run ahead and open the front door wide?” Michael asked, adjusting his grip on the trunk.
Emmy dashed up the steps, flinging the door open with a flourish.
Sarah walked alongside Michael, helping guide the tree’s top branches to prevent them from catching on anything. The smell of fresh pine enveloped them as they maneuvered through the doorway.
Inside, Pat had already cleared a space in the corner of the living room and set up the tree stand. She directed them with the precision of a symphony conductor.
“A little to the left,” Pat instructed as they positioned the tree. “Now straighten it... Perfect!”
While Sarah and Michael worked on securing the tree in its stand, Emmy hovered nearby, watching with fascination.
“Would you like some hot chocolate, Michael?” Emmy asked suddenly. “I can help Grandma make it.”
“I make it a rule never to say no to hot chocolate,” Michael replied with a wink that made Emmy giggle.
Pat and Emmy disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Sarah and Michael alone with the tree. The sound of mugs clinking and Pat’s gentle instructions to Emmy floated in from the other room.
“Is the trunk straight?” Sarah asked, adjusting the screws on the stand.
“Almost,” Michael replied, shifting the tree slightly. “There. Perfect.”
Sarah stepped back to admire their handiwork and found herself smiling ridiculously. This was fun. More fun than she’d had in ages. Michael seemed different here, in her home, more relaxed than he had been at the tree farm.
“Hot chocolate delivery!” Emmy announced, carefully carrying a mug topped with a mountain of whipped cream and mini marshmallows. Pat followed with two more mugs.
