LITMIR.BIZ

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now. Perhaps it wasn’t important at all anymore. She was living a sterile, scheduled existence, hiding behind a camera instead of participating in her own life.

      She needed to fix that. She wasn’t quite sure how, but she hoped that the trip to Beckett’s Run would help. It was a start, anyway.

      The horses picked up their pace as the back of the house came into view again, their necks bobbing as they led the way home.

      “You coming on the next run?” Blake asked. “Or are you too cold?”

      His shoulder buffered hers, and it would be so easy to slide over another inch or two and lean against him, swaying to the rhythm of the horses’ gait. She was tempted, but she knew it wouldn’t solve anything. Leaving was going to be difficult enough.

      She shook her head. “I think I’ll help Anna in the kitchen.”

      “Don’t forget, when I get back it’s Santa time.”

      Her heart thudded. “I haven’t forgotten.”

      They pulled to a stop and Blake hopped down, then offered his hand to Hope to help her out of the seat. She put her mittened hand in his and jumped, landing so close to him the zippers of their jackets touched. For a prolonged second they paused, looking in each other’s eyes.

      Hope finally looked away. “Santa’d better get a move on,” she murmured, and skirted around him toward the house.

      As she went inside she heard his cheerful voice instructing the next round of kids where to sit, more laughter. She felt a strange sense of belonging and yet not belonging. Because this wasn’t hers. She was only borrowing it for today. And it was getting harder and harder to remember that.

      * * *

      Blake had thought he was prepared for Hope as an elf, but he’d been very, very wrong.

      Once the horses had been unhitched and put in their stalls he’d come in the back door to get ready for his stint as Santa. He was sneaking down the hall when he caught sight of her, all dressed in green. He should have known that, with her height, her legs would go on forever. The green tights clung to her legs, emphasizing the lean length of them, and the tunic with its scalloped edges skirted the tops of her thighs. Even with the ridiculous hat and shoes she was one heck of a sexy elf.

      He changed into his Santa suit, stuffing the coat with a fat bed pillow and hooking the white beard over his ears before putting on his cap. Black boots rounded out the costume, and Anna had stitched him up a red sack made from fleece. Inside were presents for each child—a toy and a treat. He hadn’t been extravagant, but that was hardly the point. Each item had been carefully chosen and wrapped.

      “Ho, ho, ho!” he boomed, stepping into the living room with the sack over his shoulder.

      Eyes widened, and one small voice whispered reverently, “It’s Santa!”

      Blake wasn’t sure how convincing he was going to be—he was probably a good deal taller than most Santas, he only hoped the beard concealed his scar, and keeping up the deep, booming voice was going to be a challenge. But he took a seat in a chair by the tree and did his best.

      “Santa’s got a good little helper this year! Do you all know Hope? Doesn’t she make a pretty elf?”

      He nearly laughed at the mortified expression on Hope’s face as all eyes turned to her.

      “Well,” she replied, clearing her throat, “if Santa came all this way for our party, it’s only right he should have a helping hand, don’t you think?”

      “Yeah!”

      Excitement bubbled up and out, and everyone looked to Blake again. Hope sent him a wink that said she knew what he was up to—and she was going along with it.

      “Hope, maybe you can give Santa a hand by taking the presents out of that sack.” He looked down at the children. “Did you all want presents? My elves have worked very hard this year. I hope you’ve all been good.”

      “I’ve been good, Thanta!” one girl called out with an adorable lisp.

      There were more shouts and laughs and Blake chuckled at one little boy who was so excited he was almost vibrating.

      Dutifully Hope came forward and reached into the bag, pulling out the first present. She handed it to him and he let his eyes twinkle up at her. Little did she know, but this was only the first of the surprises in store for her today.

      “Says here this present is for Chad,” Blake boomed. “Come on up, Chad, and get your present.”

      Chad, who had suffered a spinal cord injury when he was three, shuffled up to Blake with a wide smile. “For me?”

      “For you,” Blake said, handing over the present.

      And so it went on until, just as he’d planned, there was one box left in the bottom of the sack.

      “Ho, ho, ho,” he said deeply as he picked it up. “It feels like there is something else in here.”

      Hope had a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “But everyone has a present,” she said.

      He reached into the bag and took out the small box. “Says here this one is for Hope. Ho, ho, ho!” He looked up at her expectantly. “Hope, come sit on Santa’s knee while he gives you your present.” He patted his thigh.

      “I think I’ll stand—thanks anyway, Santa.”

      “Sit on his knee!” called Cate.

      “Yeah,” shouted a few others, “sit on Santa’s lap, Hope!”

      With a dark look aimed just at him, Hope came closer and perched on his knee. “I’ll get you for this,” she murmured, just loud enough that he could hear.

      “I’m counting on it,” he whispered back, but then continued on in his booming, jolly voice, “Now, Santa has a long trip after this, so I think he needs a little something to keep him warm.”

      “Hot chocolate!” shouted someone.

      His grin widened. “Need to watch the waistline,” he said, patting his round stomach. “After all, I’ll be getting lots of milk and cookies very soon. What about a kiss from Hope here?” He touched a finger to his cheek. “Come on, Hope. Give Santa a kiss.”

      Her eyes were like daggers, but she smiled sweetly and dutifully pecked his cheek. “Santa’s beard is scratchy,” she announced.

      He handed over the present. “Don’t open it here,” he whispered, then boosted her off his lap and picked up the empty bag. “Well, Santa must be getting back. Reindeer-training, you know. Merry Christmas, everyone!”

      He added in a few extra ho, ho, hos as he waded through wads of wrapping paper to the door and slipped outside. Then he made his way to the back of the house and stripped down to his T-shirt and long johns. So no curious eyes would catch sight of the bright red suit he left the suit on the back step to collect later and hurried out of the cold, darting inside and sneaking to his room, where he changed into his jeans and shirt. He pulled on his jacket, went out the back door and around to the front, and made a show of coming back in again.

      “What’d I miss?”

      “Oh, Mister Blake, Santa was here!” Cate’s excitement quivered in her voice. “And he got me a new doll!”

      “Santa? When I was stuck out in the barn putting the horses up for the night?”

      “You missed it! Hope sat on his knee and kissed him an’ everything!”

      His gaze strayed to Hope. She was still in her elf getup, still strikingly beautiful. As their eyes met he suddenly wished for the party to be over, so he could put the next part of his plan in motion.

      This was their last night together. No more television in the evenings. No more watching her work on her laptop with those silly glasses on her face. No more kisses in the snow or by the flickering

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