Peace by Shelley Shepard Gray Page B

comfortable.
    And in each dream, there was always a beautiful, angelic woman by his side. The air surrounding her would smell vaguely of cotton and lemons, mixed with the faint scent of lavender.
    It was every good smell in the world combined with a huge slice of comfort. To him, it never failed to be completely addictive.
    At least it felt that way in his dreams.
    In his mind, the woman was slim. Her brown hair leaned toward golden and her blue eyes were so dark they could be mistaken for brown. But she would have a graceful way about her that he’d never felt anywhere else in his life.
    Her touch was gentle, her voice softly lilting. She’d give him the briefest sliver of happiness, simply because she cared about him.
    And then he’d wake up and discover that his reality was the exact opposite of his dreams.
    Not this time, though. Now, unbelievably, the woman of his dreams had become his reality. She was sitting next to him and even though he should have every nerve on alert, he kept finding himself dozing off, eased by the comfort of her presence.
    It seemed God had a greater sense of humor than he’d even imagined.
    â€œI’m not used to talking about myself. I don’t know where to start,” she said hesitantly.
    â€œThen don’t start. Just talk to me about something easy.” Vaguely, he remembered her mentioning it was almost Christmas. “Talk to me about your Christmas.”
    â€œThis year?” she squeaked.
    â€œAny year. What do you usually do?” Through the fog in his brain, he tried to recall what men gave to their girlfriends for Christmas gifts. A pain shot through his heart as he recalled the gifts his older brothers had given their girlfriends and wives. He’d never had the chance to get close enough to someone to bring them something special during the most magical time of year.
    â€œDo you have a boyfriend who brings you roses and candy?”
    â€œNee!”
    She sounded so shocked, he found himself chuckling. “Is that not what Amish boys bring to girls they fancy?”
    â€œI don’t have a boyfriend.”
    â€œFinally, you filled me in on your status. I was beginning to wonder if you ever would.”
    â€œChris, you shouldn’t tease.”
    â€œI’m not teasing,” he murmured, making sure he didn’t add a single trace of humor in his voice. And it was true—he was completely serious when it came to Beth. “You’re so pretty, I can’t imagine you not having a man at your heels, waiting for a smile.”
    â€œWell, I do not. But if I did, he wouldn’t be bringing me roses in the winter. No one gets those!”
    She sounded positively scandalized. He loved it. Privately, he thought if he were her man he’d find a way to bring her red roses every chance he got—even if he had to pay a small fortune for them at the florist. Only red roses would complement the way her cheeks burned when she was flustered.
    â€œSo . . . what would a proper Amish man bring you, Bethy? If you had one of those in your life.”
    â€œIt’s Beth,” she corrected primly. “And, um, it’s the Amish way to give each other gifts that would be far more useful.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œSuch as . . . fabric. Or a sweater or coat.”
    He couldn’t resist egging her on. “I’m no woman in love, but I’d rather receive chocolate and red roses than a bolt of fabric.”
    â€œI would, too,” she whispered, before wincing. “I didn’t mean that,” she said quickly.
    He let that pass because they both knew differently. “So . . .”
    She shifted primly in her chair. “So . . . this is all beside the point. Because it doesn’t look as if either of us is going to be getting roses and chocolate on Christmas Day. No man is at my heels, and no woman besides me knows you’re here.”
    Still anxious to learn more