Snowy Christmas by Helen Scott Taylor Page A

sight of the amount she owed,
desperation fisted in her chest. She closed her eyes and drew in a
calming breath, fighting back the wave of despair.
    The interest on the loan would consume nearly
all her money this month. But at least she did have enough. Lucky
for her, the Rosemoor estate paid its employees in the middle of
the month, so she'd already been paid a month's salary.
    Once the credit card companies took their
slice from her bank account, she'd have just enough left to buy
Snow White's food and a few essentials she needed. Her family and
friends would have to be satisfied with homemade fudge for
Christmas, since that was all she could afford. Thank heavens she
didn't need to worry about paying rent.
    She rubbed her temples against the dull throb
of a tension headache. Snow White jumped on her lap as if sensing
she was needed. Emily cuddled her close, kissing her head, and
wondered how she had ever survived without the company of her
darling little dog.
    It was wonderful having Snow White to console
her, but she really wished she could summon the courage to confide
in Marcus. She'd only told him half the story about Vicente. She
hadn't admitted her money troubles. Marcus wouldn't judge her, but
she was too embarrassed by her stupidity to admit how she'd been
suckered.
    A light tap on the door startled her out of
her thoughts. She put Snow White down and jumped up to tuck the
letters out of sight and check her face in the mirror before
pasting on a smile.
    Marcus stood outside, smiling, hands in the
back pockets of his jeans, his hair a little ruffled as if he'd
forgotten to brush it.
    The sight of his dear face brought tears to
her eyes. She stepped into his arms and buried her nose against his
chest. Swallowing back tears, she gradually regained her
composure.
    "What's the matter, Em?" Marcus stroked some
hair back behind her ear with gentle fingers.
    "Nothing." She wiped the side of her hand
beneath her lashes. "It's just lovely to see you again."
    Confusion crossed his face. They'd only said
good-bye a few hours ago when she came downstairs to shower and
dress for a day's work. He probably thought she was going crazy,
but he let it pass.
    "Are you ready to look through the photos we
talked about?"
    "Of course." They were selecting photographs
that gave a flavor of Rosemoor Hall at Christmas through the ages
to scan and put on the website.
    Emily turned and shouted for Snowy, who had
gone to lick out her breakfast dish one last time.
    Marcus enclosed her hand in his large, warm
palm, his strong grip like a lifesaver in a stormy ocean. Little by
little, her distress receded. She would be all right. She'd scrimp
and save, and pay off the debts. It would take her a while, but she would free herself of this burden and get on her feet
again.
    They walked through the great hall into
another corridor past the library and drawing room. The door to
Marcus's office stood open, and there were three boxes of documents
on his desk.
    "I collected the photos together and filed
them properly a couple of years ago when Jon started writing his
books about the area and needed photos to include. Some of the
locals let us make copies of their old images to add to our
archive."
    "Looks like you have plenty of photos to
choose from now," Emily said.
    Marcus passed her a pair of white cotton
gloves before pulling some on himself. He lifted the lids off all
three storage boxes and pushed one of the boxes her way. "You go
through the most recent ones. We're looking for anything
Christmassy."
    The photos were separated by interleaving
tissue paper. Some photographs had original handwritten notes on
the back, or pencil notations on the paper between them.
    Marcus held up a photo of his
great-grandfather as a boy, standing in the great hall beside a
huge Christmas tree that was covered in lit candles. "Mega fire
hazard," he said.
    Emily smiled, noticing how much he resembled
the little boy. The Bramwell men all looked very much alike.
    There