Snowy Christmas by Helen Scott Taylor Page B

didn't seem to be any very recent
photos of the hall at Christmas. She found one of the buildings
clothed in heavy snow with Christmas lights twinkling through the
windows, and turned it over to check the date on the back.
    "This is the most recent," she said, holding
it up. "It's dated six years ago."
    "That was the last year my mother was here.
She always decorated and hosted a big family Christmas celebration
at the hall." Marcus pressed his lips together sadly as he took the
photo to look at it. "Gabriella wouldn't stay here for Christmas.
We had to go somewhere warm and trendy."
    "What about the last two years?" Marcus had
been here alone then.
    He shrugged and continued leafing through the
box he was searching. "We all go to the Fat Goose on Christmas Day
now. Shelly cooks for us."
    His ex-wife had a lot to answer for. From
what Emily had been told, the woman made Marcus's life a misery. It
had probably taken him two years to recover. She reached for his
hand and squeezed.
    He glanced up, a silent moment of
understanding passing between them, leaving her with a warm, fuzzy
feeling.
    It occurred to Emily that there would likely
be a photograph of Gabriella in the box she was searching. Much as
Emily despised the woman who had made Marcus miserable, a part of
her couldn't help being curious to see what she looked like.
    She started to examine the photos of people
more closely. Finally, she pulled one from seven years ago. Marcus
would have been twenty-eight at the time. He looked young,
self-assured, and incredibly handsome in a dark suit, with a
stunning blond woman at his side.
    Emily's throat tightened, and she swallowed a
painful knot of jealousy. Marcus and his ex-wife looked so good
together, as if they belonged side by side. The camera loved
Gabriella, but the picture lied because it made her look like an
angel.
    Emily, on the other hand, did not take a good
photograph. Her nose appeared massive in photos, and her smile
always looked forced. She'd told herself that Marcus must be the
sort of guy who liked women for their personality, not their looks,
but if he'd married a stunning beauty like Gabriella, that must be
wrong.
    He could have any woman he wanted. It made no
sense for him to want her, a penniless housekeeper with only
mediocre looks.
    "All right?" he said, concern in his
voice.
    "Fine." She slotted the photo of Gabriella
back in the box and unenthusiastically continued her search for
Christmas pictures. Today was turning out to be a depressing
one.
    "Did you ever go to work with your
grandmother when she was the housekeeper for Owen's parents? They
used to have a group photograph of all the staff at the Boxing Day
lunch, just like we did at the hall."
    "No." Emily shook her head vigorously. "I
don't remember having my photo taken."
    A lie, of course. She clearly recalled how
much she'd hated posing for those photos as a fat teen with
unflattering glasses and acne. The last thing she wanted was Marcus
seeing a picture of her like that.

Chapter Nine
    Marcus saved a small corner of cheese from his
sandwich before he put the crumb-covered plate down for Peggy to
lick. Then he crouched and placed the piece of cheese on his
outstretched palm for Snow White. She stared at him from her spot
under Emily's stool at the island in his kitchen. After a few
moments' consideration, she walked across to him and took the
cheese, her tail wagging.
    "Good girl. Was that nice?" He stroked the
little dog's ears with a huge sense of achievement at winning her
trust. Although it seemed he'd won Snow White's affection and lost
Emily's.
    "Snowy allowed me to pet her," he said to
Emily, but she sat staring into space and didn't respond. She was
right there, but might as well be a million miles away. And she'd
been like this ever since this morning. He kept going over what
he'd said and done in case he'd upset her.
    "Emily, have I done something wrong?"
    "Pardon?" She dragged her attention back from
wherever it had been, and he