Home in Time for Christmas by Heather Graham Page A

her cup and drank, barely aware that the chocolate concoction was hot.
    â€œSweetie, if you want to swill something, it really shouldn’t be hot chocolate. Beer is best for swilling, wouldn’t you say, Jake?”
    â€œI suppose it’s a proper beverage for hefty consumption,” Jake said.
    â€œHe knows who you think you are,” Melody said.
    â€œI know who I am. My name is Jake Mallory,” Jake said.
    â€œAnd you were at the end of a hangman’s noose?” Keith said.
    Jake seemed very tall and straight. “That is the absolute truth,” he said quietly.
    â€œAnd you know nothing that’s happened since the American Revolution?” Keith asked.
    â€œOnly what your sister has been kind enough to tell me,” he said sincerely.
    Keith stared at Melody. “Huh.” He grinned suddenly. “Well, I know what we should do after dinner.”
    â€œWhat?” Melody asked dubiously.
    â€œA DVD glut.”
    She cast her head to the side and smiled slowly. “History and pop culture.”
    â€œExcuse me,” Jake said. “A DVD glut?”
    Melody groaned. Her brother began a scientific explanation.
    â€œI see,” Jake said.
    Keith rose. “Time for dinner. I came to fetch the two of you. Can’t be late for Mom’s nouvelle cuisine.”
    â€œWe’re having stew, I believe,” Melody said.
    â€œWhatever,” Keith said. Then, “Stew? Oh, no. God knows what she puts in those Crock-Pots.” He grimaced. “She thinks she has powers.”
    â€œSo Melody said. Maybe she does,” Jake said.
    â€œForget it, forget it,” Melody said, rising. “My mother does not have powers. Please, don’t go encouraging her to think that she does! Come on, let’s get home.”
    Keith had brought his car. He encouraged Jake to ride with him, telling him that he could explain the workings of the vehicle much better than Melody might ever manage. She decided to let the two of them go—there was nothing that Keith didn’t know already, so whatever Jake said to him, it wouldn’t matter.
    She reached the house first and Keith and Jake pulledin right behind her. Other than the fact that his hair was long—easily understandable, if he made his living as an historic interpreter—Jake looked as if he belonged right where he was.
    That was good.
    Oh, Lord, she was beginning to fall for his fantasy!
    She shook off the thought as she headed for the house. Before she reached the door, Brutus was howling out a welcome. She entered the house quickly. One good thing about Brutus—no one would ever come sneaking up on the house. Brutus was louder than the most obnoxious doorbell ever created.
    Wheels for legs did not prevent the basset from having a tail that wagged so hard it was like being whacked when it hit ya.
    â€œLovely!” her mom called, coming from the kitchen. Now she looked like Stevie Nicks in an apron. “Dinner is on.”
    â€œYeah? So what’s in it? Eye of toad and leg of newt?” Keith teased.
    â€œOh, you!” Mona protested, giving him an affection tap on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare go scaring our guest!”
    â€œI’m not scared,” Jake assured her.
    â€œShe does add all her own herbs,” Keith warned.
    â€œWe’re having stew. Beef stew. And I’m afraid, other than the herbs, the ingredients are store-bought,” Mona said. She brightened. “But I do buy only organic.”
    Jake looked at Melody.
    â€œShe loathes the idea that food might have pesticides in it,” Melody explained.
    â€œShe’s quite right I guess,” Jake said.
    â€œAnd quite expensive,” George Tarleton said, joining them in the living room.
    â€œDad, you might want to find a lint brush. You’re wearing more of Cleo than Cleo wears of herself, I think,” Melody pointed out.
    â€œOh, yes, well, excuse me, I’ll find the lint