The Holiday Bride by Ginny Baird Page B

the
picture.”
    “Computer program. Really simple.” Justin gulped. “Even
allows enhancements.”
    “So I see.” William ran a hand through his hair, wondering
how he was going to get out of this mess.
    “I thought the jingle bell tassels were a nice touch,”
Justin said with an impish grin.

 
    Carmella pressed into Lucy’s room with a worried frown.
“What’s all that noise?”
    Lucy quickly released the curtain she’d pulled back to peer
outside. “I’m not sure.”
    “Then what were you looking at?”
    “Just some birds out on the lawn!” she said above the hum of
copter blades lifting away.
    “Birds? But all of those have flown south for the winter.”
    Carmella strode to the window with determination and threw
back the curtain. “Oh my! Who are all those people?”
    “I don’t know,” Lucy said, standing behind her. There was an
incredible crowd out there, and it appeared testosterone heavy. In fact, the
only woman Lucy saw seemed to be a television reporter. She held a huge
microphone and spoke through a broad smile to a couple of cameramen by a truck.
    Carmella spun toward Lucy, gripping her legs. “You don’t
think they heard about Santa, do you? And they’re coming to take you away? Sort
of like they do with aliens?”
    Lucy bent low to hug her. “Oh no, sweetie. Don’t you worry
one bit. Nobody’s taking me anywhere. I’m sure those fellows are all just here
for a visit.”
    Carmella looked her in the eye. “It’s awful early for
visiting. We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
    Lucy studied the little girl, the truth paining her. Sooner
or later, Carmella was going to have to know. From the looks of the horde
outside, sooner was going to come
first. “Carmella,” she said, “About Santa... There’s something I think you
should know. I don’t really believe—”
    “Of course Santa brought you!” the child said, throwing her
arms around Lucy’s neck. “Even Daddy said so!”
    Carmella hung her head, then looked up with misting eyes.
“You know, when Mommy died, I was very little. Just two. So I barely remember
her at all. But, I do remember one thing. She used to sing to me.”
    “I’m sure it sounded beautiful,” Lucy said kindly.
    Carmella gulped, wiping away her tears. “So when... you
know... I asked Santa for a new mommy, I was kind of hoping that...” She
stopped and met Lucy’s gaze. “That you would...” Her voice trailed off, her
little chin trembling.
    Lucy sat on the bed and pulled Carmella into her lap.
“Shh... Shh, now. Everything will be all right. I’m sure soon enough Santa will
send just the right mommy for you.”
    “He already has.” Carmella looked up with pleading eyes.
“Sing to me? Please?”
    “But I’m not sure I know any songs.”
    “They must be in there somewhere. The elves wouldn’t have
messed that part up.”

 
    At the senior Kinkaid house next door, Grant perused the
paper while Emma poured him coffee. “What’s all that commotion, dear?” she
asked.
    “I don’t hear anything,” he said. Then again, Emma suspected
he was going deaf. She glanced at the television on the built-in desk in the
kitchen. There was some sort of reality show on. That’s odd, Emma thought, generally
at this time we see the morning news.
    Grant lowered his paper to take a sip of coffee. An instant
later, he spat it back in his mug. “That’s William’s house!” he spouted,
staring at the television.
    “Well, so it is!” Emma said in shock.
    On the old black-and-white tube set, a farmer on a tractor
bulldozed through the crowd in the street. He wore a straw hat and a big chest
plaque stating Bridget or Bust! “Let
me through! That’s mama’s mine!” he bellowed, barreling past the reporter
extending her microphone.
    Emma drew a hand to her mouth. “Oh my!”
    Grant set down his mug and stood. “We’d better get over
there and see what’s going on.”
    They pulled on their coats and rushed outdoors, where the
situation looked