Page 54 of The Blessings of Christmas
“Oh, you are just so pleased with yourself,” she muttered, still working on her last cookie.
Peering over her shoulder, he murmured, “So, what do you think of my work?”
“That you can be pretty devious.” Zipping around, she shot a string of frosting that landed right below his left eye. She got him pretty good.
Hooking her with one hand, he laid down his bag and laced his hands behind her back. “I think you owe me.”
Reaching up, she swept the frosting from his cheek. “Aw, you’re so sweet, Ryan.”
“Never thought I’d ever hear that. Are you mocking me?” His eyes turned deliciously dangerous.
“No, never.” Giggling, she couldn’t offer any resistance as he pushed her toward the door to the shop. “What are you doing? It’s almost time to open.”
“Later. Right now I have other ideas.”
She looked up. The mistletoe. “Perfect.”
The conversation was cut off by a Christmas kiss she’d remember forever. Tunneling her fingers through Ryan’s thick hair, she felt the rasp of his beard and something else. Her cheek felt sticky. “You’re getting frosting all over me.”
“Turn around is fair play.” What a stinker. Ryan turned his cheek just a bit until both their faces were a gooey mess.
“Stop. Stop.” But her voice was choked by giggles.
“What is going on?”
Sarah and Ryan turned. Frosting obscuring one eye, she had trouble seeing her mother, standing there with hands on her hips. But Mom was laughing.
After Ryan left for Branson Motors, Sarah grabbed her blue binder, just to make sure they were covering the bases. She flipped open the cover and stared. The recipes were divided by plastic tabs, each section alphabetized. When she opened to Cookies, her recipes were arranged neatly. Each scrawled note, card or piece of torn newspaper safely encased in a plastic slip sheet. This had to be Ryan’s work and her heart turned over.
Amazed, she lugged the binder out to her mother.
“Will you look at this?” Sarah set the binder down and opened it.
“Oh, my.” Her mother whisked through the pages. “Ryan did this?”
“I guess so. Do you believe it?”
Turning, her mother gave her a slow smile. “I’d say this man’s a keeper.”
EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Asaw whined and hammers pounded from the workshop Ryan had built in the yard. The sweet smell of sawdust and early summer hung in the air. Would the man ever stop working? Sarah was thrilled that Ryan was enlarging the deck. But not today. “Mom and Stuart will be here soon!” she called out.
The saw stopped. Ryan appeared in the doorway of the shed. No man wore a T-shirt and jeans like her husband, safety glasses shoved back on his head. “What’s that, babe?”
The grass tickled her bare feet as she strolled toward him. Sarah was still getting used to Ryan working in what used to beherbackyard.
My husband. Our backyard.
She liked it.
Looping an arm around his neck, she cuddled closer. “Time to clean up,” she whispered. “Mom and Stuart are coming over, remember?”
After a leisurely Sunday afternoon kiss, Ryan pulled away. “Got it. Gee, you smell good.” His chest expanded when he inhaled.
“I’m all shampooed and showered.” She tapped that broad chest with a finger. “Your turn.”
