Debbie Macomber: 1225 Christmas Tree Lane

“Okay, okay, but we’ve already said everything there is to say.” She sagged onto the sofa and tried to keep her eyes open.

Linc glanced at the clock, too. “As of about one minute ago, it’s officially Christmas Eve. Rhodes promised to be in touch before Christmas.”

Exhaling a deep sigh, Mary Jo shrugged. “He might’ve said on Christmas. I’ve forgotten.”

“Well, I haven’t.” Mel’s feet were braced wide apart, his arms folded across his massive chest.

“I haven’t forgotten, either.” Linc, too, crossed his arms. They looked like bouncers at a tough bar, but Mary Jo feared the person they’d toss out on his ear would be David Rhodes.

And he’d deserve it; she knew that. He’d deceived her not once, not twice, but a dozen times or more. Some of the responsibility was hers, though. Even though she was aware that he’d abused her trust, she’d continued to believe him, giving him chance after chance. Now her brothers were trying to save her from him—and from herself.

“David said he’d contact you before Christmas,” Linc reminded her. “That’s less than twenty-four hours.”

“Yes, it is.” Her agreeing with him was sure to confuse her well-meaning brothers.

Apparently shocked by her unaccustomed meekness, Linc frowned, then checked the clock again. “Yup, less than twenty-four hours. It’s time you realized he has no intention of doing the proper thing.”

Mary Jo couldn’t argue with that. She was just tired of discussing it. “You never know,” she said, forcing a note of optimism into her voice.

“Then you’re living in a dream world, little sister,” Mel said through gritted teeth.

Ned sat down next to Mary Jo and reached for her hand. “Linc and Mel are right,” he told her gently.

“About what?” She was so exhausted, her vision had started to blur.

“Someone needs to get in touch with David. If we can’t find him, then one of his family members. He has to be held accountable.”

Linc snorted again. “David Rhodes needs to make an honest woman of you.”

If Mary Jo heard that one more time she was going to scream. “I am an honest woman! I don’t need David or any man to validate what each of you should already know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Linc muttered. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot. It’s only an expression.”

“What we all want,” Mel began, as if to clarify their thoughts, “is for you to be happy— with the father of your baby.”

Mary Jo doubted that was even possible. She’d lost faith in David and as much as she wanted to believe he loved her and cared about their child, the evidence stated otherwise.

“He’s not giving us any choice,” Linc said, his dark eyes menacing. “We’re going to find him and—”

“Linc, please. Hold off for a few days. Please.” She hated to plead but it was Christmas and she didn’t want to see the holiday ruined for any of them. She was protecting David—again—and the irony didn’t escape her. Despite all these months of intermittent contact and broken promises, Mary Jo still felt the urge to shield him from her brothers.

But her real concern was for Linc, Mel and Ned. She didn’t want them ending up in jail because of David.

“We’re not waiting a minute longer!” Mel boomed. “If David’s in Cedar Cove, we’re going to track him down.”

“No. Please,” she said shakily.

“You don’t have a say in this anymore.”

“Linc, it’s my life! Listen to me. I—”

“We’ve listened to you enough,” her brother said matter-of-factly. “Now the three of us have decided to take matters into our own hands.”

Mary Jo couldn’t let her brothers get involved. She shuddered as she imagined them storming into Cedar Cove on Christmas Eve, bent on forcing David to marry her.

No, she couldn’t allow that to happen. Resolute, she stood up and started for her bedroom. “We’ll finish discussing this in the morning,” she said in as dignified a voice as she could manage.

Linc seemed about to argue, but her fatigue must have shown because he hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “There’ll be no avoiding it, understand?”

“Perfectly.”

“Night, sweetie.” He threw his arms around her in a quick hug, as did Mel and then Ned.

Mary Jo slept soundly for six hours and woke in a cold sweat. She knew she’d never be able to stop her interfering brothers from invading Cedar Cove, embarrassing her and possibly doing bodily harm to David. The only solution she could think of was to get there first and warn David and/or his family.

With that in mind, Mary Jo left her brothers a note and slipped quietly out of the house.

2

Cedar Cove was a festive little town, Mary Jo thought when she stepped off the ferry. It was a place that took Christmas seriously. Even the small terminal was decorated, with bells hanging from the ceiling and large snowflakes in the windows. She’d never been here before and was pleasantly surprised by its charm. After taking the Washington State ferry from downtown Seattle to Bremerton, she’d caught the foot ferry across Sinclair Inlet to the small town David had mentioned.

He’d only talked about it that one time. She’d had the impression he didn’t like it much, but she hadn’t understood why.

She looked around.

A lighthouse stood off in the distance, picturesque against the backdrop of fir trees and the green waters of the cove. Waves rhythmically splashed the large rocks that marked the beach. Adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder and getting a tighter grip on her bag, Mary Jo walked down the pier into town.

Large evergreen boughs stretched across the main street of Cedar Cove—Harbor Street, according to the sign—and from the center of each hung a huge ornament. There were alternating wreaths, angels and candles. The lightposts were festooned with holly. The effect of all these decorations was delightful and it raised her spirits—until she remembered why she was in Cedar Cove.

It was ten in the morning on Christmas Eve, and everyone seemed to have places to go and people to see. So did Mary Jo, except that she was in no hurry to get there, and who could blame her? This was likely to be a painful confrontation.

Not sure where to start searching for David’s family, desperate to collect her thoughts, Mary Jo stopped at a coffee house called Mocha Mama’s about a block from the waterfront. This, too, was decorated and redolent of Christmas scents—fir, cinnamon, peppermint. And the rich, strong aroma of fresh coffee. The place was nearly empty. The only other person there was a young man who stood behind the counter; he was writing or drawing something in a sketchbook and appeared to be immersed in his task, whatever it was.

“Merry Christmas,” Mary Jo said cheerfully, wondering if her words sounded as forced as they felt. She pulled off her wool hat and gloves, cramming them in her pockets.

Her presence startled the young man, who wore a name tag that identified him as Shaw. He glanced up, blinked in apparent confusion, then suddenly smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t see you come in. What can I get you?”

“I’d like one of your decaf candy cane mochas, Shaw.”

“What size?”

“Oh, grande—is that what you call it here? Medium. One of those.” She pointed at a stack of cups.

His eyes went to her stomach, which protruded from the opening of her long wool coat. She could no longer fasten more than the top three buttons.

“You’re gonna have a baby.” Shaw said, as if this information should be a surprise to her.

“Yes, I am.” She rested a protective hand on her belly.

Shaw began to prepare her mocha, chatting as he did.