Michelle Douglas - His Christmas Angel

‘What on earth is all this racket?’

Alec burst out onto the back veranda still in his pyjamas, a scowl on his face and a kitten in his lap. Sol and Cassie stared at each other, then Cassie covered a grin with her hand. ‘Didn’t check the house, huh, Sol?’

‘How did it get inside? There’s no way—’

‘The damn thing was mewling out the front in the middle of the night,’ Alec grumbled.

Cassie smiled. ‘So you went out and got him?’

What Sol wouldn’t do to have her smile at him like that.

‘I had to,’ Alec grouched. ‘In the interests of peace and quiet and sleep.’

Sol noticed he didn’t offer to hand the kitten back.

‘The search is over, boys,’ Cassie called out.

‘You want a lift home, Cass?’

‘No, thanks, Keith. I promised to help Alec out with something this morning.’

She had?

‘You’ll make sure she gets home safe, Adams?’

‘Nah,’ some devil made him say, ‘she can catch a cab.’ All the men bristled, and he saw Cassie try to hide another grin. ‘Of course I’ll see her home.’

Muttering, the men left. As the last car drove away, Sol turned to her, arms upraised. ‘What was that all about?’

‘You didn’t get it?’ She stared at him expectantly. ‘C’mon, Sol. All those guys idolised Brian, right?’

He shrugged. ‘I guess.’

‘And I’m Brian’s widow.’ She enunciated each word with deliberate care.

‘Uh-huh.’ He could’ve done without that reminder.

She gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘You still don’t get it? Brian put Schofield on the map and the town adored him for it. As his widow, they adore me too.’

So they should. But for who she was, not because she’d married Brian Parker. Her fragrance curled around him as he followed her into the house. She smelt like Christmas—a cross between pinecones and plum pudding.

‘You have no idea how fabulous this widowhood caper is.’

His jaw dropped. ‘Fabulous?’

‘You bet. I have a whole town that’ll do anything for me. You just saw.’

He sure had.

‘I’m surrounded by people eager to help me out.’ She filled the kettle, then leant a hip against the kitchen sink. ‘If I don’t get a chance to walk Rufus, Max next door does it for me. Keith and Phillip take it in turns to mow my lawn. If I need an odd job done around the house it’s done—’ she snapped her fingers ‘—like that. Every home gardener in the neighbourhood supplies me with more fruit and veggies than I know what to do with. And eggs—I get lots of eggs.’ She grinned. ‘Everyone looks out for me.’

Unease slugged through him. ‘And you like that?’ It’d suffocate the hell out of him.

‘I love it, and what’s more…’ she sent him a mischievous grin ‘…I don’t have the mean girls at school saying, “Poor Cassie; she still hasn’t found herself a man,” and I get it all without the bother of having a husband.’

He gripped the back of the chair. ‘Was Brian a bother?’

The curtain of hair immediately hid her face.

Damn, damn and double damn. What had made her go and rattle on like that?

‘Cassie?’

‘From what I hear all husbands are a bother.’ She tried for light. It didn’t work. Or at least Sol didn’t buy it. Panic scurried through her. ‘Brian is dead.’ She couldn’t hide the pain that stretched across her voice. She just hoped to God she’d managed to hide the guilt.

‘So, if you can’t have Brian this is the next best thing?’

No. God forgive her. Being Brian’s widow was the best thing. But she couldn’t tell Sol that. She couldn’t tell anyone.

He sat heavily when she remained silent. ‘I see.’

She doubted that. And she was glad, she told herself fiercely. She didn’t want anyone to see. She lifted her chin. ‘I’m never, ever getting married again.’

‘Don’t say that, Cassie.’ He reached across and took her hand. ‘I swear you can find what you had with Brian again.’

Exactly. That was what she was afraid of.

‘And give up all this?’

Alec wheeled back into the kitchen and she tugged her hand free, tried to slow the stupid scampering of her heart. Alec had changed out of his pyjamas, but he still had the kitten on his lap. Maybe she’d misjudged him? Maybe he’d like a kitten to love?

She glanced at her watch. ‘I’m afraid I have to get going.’ She should’ve taken the ride Keith had offered. But Sol had smelt too good, looked too good, for her to surrender all hopes of sharing at least one cup of coffee with him this morning.

Bad idea. Look where that temptation had landed her. Idiot. She was not risking everything she’d built up here in Schofield because some man smelt good and looked good.

Sol surveyed her for a long moment. ‘I thought you had to help Alec out with something.’

Alec glanced up. ‘You do?’

‘Sure I do. But it’ll have to wait till this afternoon.’

‘You just put the kettle on,’ Sol pointed out.

‘I…umm…habit. I don’t have time now.’ She headed for the front door and tried not to breathe too deeply as she walked past him.

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