Christmas, Actually: The Christmas Gift / The Christmas Wish / The Christmas Date

“Fire hazard, I guess, but we got special permission to use one on each floor for our elf trees.”

“Elf trees?” Sophie noticed the small white tags hanging from the branches.

“The children whose parents can’t afford much this Christmas were asked to fill out a card with their wishes.” She handed Sophie her receipt and pointed at the tree with her pen. “Each one of those cards is a wish.”

“If I buy something now, can I turn it in before I leave the store?”

“The collection boxes are supposed to show up sometime today, one at all the exits, but if you don’t find a box before you leave the store, bring your gift back to me, or drop it at Customer Service.”

“Thanks.” Sophie took a tag that said “Red coat with black buttons” in a childish scrawl. Someone had written on the corner of the tag that this was for a girl, size 4T, and jotted a code, which must identify the child.

Sophie remembered being annoyed with clothing when she was small. She’d wanted toys—a treasure trove of toys, stacked like a pyramid around the tree.

A bit embarrassed, she smiled at the cashier and headed for the escalator, where a sign directed her to the children’s section, on the second floor. She found a beautiful wool coat, cinched in at the waist, with a swirling skirt and a black collar to match the required black buttons. She added mittens and a scarf, in red with black trim.

In the toy department, she found a doll in a similar coat and jaunty hat. She picked up a notepad and crayons and a toy cell phone, a miniature pewter tea set and Lincoln Logs, which she would still play with herself if she had them.

There were no collection boxes on the ground floor, so she headed to Customer Service, where a man behind the desk eyed her pile of gifts with doubt. “You picked up a lot of tags,” he said.

“Just one. Can I get these wrapped?” Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was her own grief. But one little girl, size 4T, who was so mature she’d asked for a coat instead of toys, was going to receive a mini pyramid.

“Sure.” He leaned over the counter, pointing to the right. “Just around that corner.”

“Thank you.”

She persuaded the resident wrapper to do each item and then put them all in a bigger box, which she also wrapped in gorgeous red metallic paper that glittered each time the box moved. Sophie chose a white taffeta ribbon, and the woman performed a miracle of looping with it. The finished gift was so beautiful Sophie was tempted to believe in Christmas again. She meant to leave it at Customer Service, but the man behind the counter had disappeared, and she hated to leave the package just sitting there.

Maybe the collection boxes had shown up by now.

She was just in time. The store security guard was pulling a box covered in Santa-figured wrapping paper toward the revolving doors. Sophie carried her package to him, peering over the top to make sure she didn’t mow anyone down. “Will this fit?” she asked as the guard held out his hands.

“I think so. Good thing you got here first, though.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you make sure the bow doesn’t get crushed?”

“No problem. I’ll arrange it myself, and we empty the box every night at closing.”

Together, they set it inside.

“That was some wish,” the guard said. “What was it? A horse?”

Sophie laughed. “Just a coat.”

“In Kevlar?” He glanced up as the door behind her opened, and a familiar voice called out a greeting. “Jack, your first wish came true.”

Sophie whirled. “You’re collecting toys for children?” she asked. The irony tasted bitter and felt like poison.

Jack barely even blinked. “It’s a family tradition.”

“It’s a Banning trait,” the guard said. “I saw your brother, Nick, splicing wires on Main Street for those stars they hang on the lampposts, and your sister stopped by to round up my granddaughters for their first Christmas choir practice about an hour ago. Who’s your friend, Jack?”

“We’re not friends.” Sophie pushed past both men and hit the street. Let Jack explain her exit. All the better if he couldn’t.

Something about those toys had pushed her over the edge. She felt betrayed again, as if she still loved him. It wasn’t going to be enough, telling him his name would be on the birth certificate.

She’d thought she’d known Jack Banning, but that man had been a lie. A soldier who lived by the code of “Leave no man behind,” a doctor who cared more for his patients than himself, a man who didn’t know how to be dishonorable.

Sophie didn’t need his infuriating promise of financial support. She’d take care of her daughter, with love and everything else her child might need. But she might lose her mind if she couldn’t understand what had turned Jack into a stranger no sane woman could love.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_d4791918-93d6-5220-a9ce-ca4b6e589efe)

JACK STARED AFTER her, his only thought that she shouldn’t be walking on icy streets.

“You know the lady well?” Gary Cook asked.

“We’ve met.”

Sophie had him pegged. Except for one thing—she didn’t know that every time he touched one of those boxes, he heard the echoes of a child’s cry.

He opened the door and went after her. “Sophie.”

She didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. He’d tried to make her see her best choice was to stay away from him. Now that he’d succeeded, he couldn’t let her hurry through icy streets while she was so angry she might forget she was working with a different center of gravity.

“Sophie, let me give you a ride.”

“No, thanks.” She pulled a kind of beanie from her purse and tugged it onto her head.

He caught up with her. “You should be more careful. At least walk on the other side of the street, where the ice has had time to melt.”

She turned. Her anger hit him like a burst of heat, full in the face. She crossed the street, but she wasn’t trying to be safer. She just didn’t want to be near him.

Jack stopped abruptly. He’d succeeded at last. Since the night they’d discovered she was pregnant, he’d had one goal. Make Sophie happy to stay away from him. Make her forget him.

When he’d seen her after the accident, concern had surprised him. Fear had ripped through him, when he’d thought he’d turned off his emotions.

But now he’d made sure she knew nothing had changed. He hadn’t changed.

A car honked, and he discovered he’d stepped into the street. Jack waved at an angry Santa behind the wheel of a vintage VW van, and hurried to catch up with Sophie.

Santa ground his gears and honked again as he passed them. Sophie looked up, as startled to see Jack as she was to be harassed by Santa’s clown horn.

“What do you want?” She tugged at her mittens. “Need these, too? Maybe you don’t feel I should dress warmly, but you can hand out my clothing to your Christmas Town neighbors. I hope they’re not all hypocrites like you.”

“Hardly any of them,” he said. “Except Santa. Will you slow down?”

“I’m cold.”

“You’re pregnant. You might fall.”