Home in Time for Christmas by Heather Graham Page B

brush,” her father said.
    â€œCome into the dining room, sit, sit,” Mona encouraged.
    The dining room was probably the most traditional room in the house—the large dining table and chairs were early American, as were the buffet and china closet. The back wall offered a bay window with a built-in bench seat that looked out over the lawn, and it was enhanced by warm, deep blue cushions and handsome throw pillows. There was a fireplace in here as well—the house boasted eight—and at Christmas, more than any other time, Mona kept the fires burning. She was also a huge fan of scented candles, so the room smelled deliciously of stew and spices.
    Jake paused in the doorway, breathing in. His eyes scanned the room, and she thought once again that she saw a look of pained nostalgia on his face that couldn’t be feigned.
    She felt her heart going out to him, and then she was irritated with herself. She just had to pick up a crazy who was completely charming, dignified and capable of somehow seducing her into his fantasy. He’d been in costume—the man was an actor, in a way. She had to keep remembering that.
    â€œSit, sit, Jake. I swear, there’s nothing at all wrong with my cooking, my children like to torment me,”Mona said. “George, will you get the iced tea from the refrigerator?”
    Melody, Keith and Jake had taken their seats as they had been told. When Mona moved, Jake rose. She set her hands on his shoulders to stay seated when she rose to help her husband get the drinks.
    â€œWhat do you want to bet it’s green tea?” Keith asked, feigning a whisper.
    â€œI heard that. Green tea is excellent for you. A billion Chinese who have far longer life spans than we do cannot be wrong,” Mona said.
    â€œGreen tea is lovely, Mom,” Melody said, kicking her brother’s shin under the table. “Don’t get her going,” she mouthed.
    â€œI heard that, too!” Mona said, sweeping back around the table with a large tureen of stew. She set it down with a flourish while her husband got the glasses. “And it’s all right because I’m so happy just to have you home for the holidays—and to have our new friend, Mr. Mallory, here, as well.” She sat. “Keith, dear, will you say grace, please?”
    â€œGrace,” Keith said softly, and grinned.
    â€œOh, honestly, Keith, it’s hard to imagine that you’re a student going for a Ph.D., darling, you can be so juvenile at times.”
    â€œMay I?” Jake asked.
    â€œWell, of course!” Mona said.
    Jake folded his hands and closed his eyes. “Thank you, Lord, for the food you’ve provided, for the warmth of the hearth, and the love of family and friends. May we all be home in time for Christmas. Amen.”
    He opened his eyes and looked at Melody. Again,there was something in them that entreated with dignity.
    People didn’t drop from a hangman’s noose to find themselves in a street almost three hundred years later.
    â€œHow very nice, Jake, thank you,” Mona said. “So, now, how was the ice skating?”
    â€œIt was nice, Mom,” Melody said. She stood to help her mother; Jake stood, as well. “I’m just passing the plates. Please, Jake, thank you.”
    He’d been taught to stand when a woman stood, and it was going to keep happening. Melody made a quick job of passing the food around.
    â€œMrs. Tarleton, I understand that you have some wonderful books on local history,” Jake said.
    â€œOh, indeed.” Mona flashed a smile. “I’m simply fascinated by the mind-set of those who came before us. When they had the tricentennial of the Salem witchcraft trials, they printed up complete volumes of the proceedings, the court records, everything. It’s fascinating reading. So sad and horrible.”
    â€œWhat happens in the minds of men—and women—is always fascinating,” George said.