In the parlor a ten-foot Norway spruce - certainly from her own field - ruled the front windows. The mantel held the wooden Santas she'd collected since she'd been pregnant with Harper, with fresh greenery dripping from the ends.
Stella's two sons sat cross-legged on the floor beneath the tree, staring up at it with enormous eyes.
"Isn't it great?" Hayley bounced dark-haired Lily on her hip. "Isn't it awesome?"
"David must've worked like a dog. "
"We helped!" The boys jumped up.
"After school we got to help with the lights and everything," the youngest, Luke, told her. "And pretty soon we get to help make cookies, and decorate them and everything. "
"We even got a tree upstairs. " Gavin looked back at the spruce. "It's not as big as this one, 'cause it's for upstairs. We helped David take it up, and we get to decorate itourselves . " Knowing who was the boss of the house, Gavin looked at her for confirmation. "He said. "
"Then it must be true. "
"He's cooking up some sort of trim-the-tree buffet in the kitchen. " Stella walked over to look at the tree from Roz's perspective. "Apparently, we're having a party. He's already given Logan and Harper orders to be here by seven. "
"Then I guess I'd better get myself dressed for a party. Hand over that baby first. " She reached out, took Lily from Hayley and nuzzled. "Tree that size, it'll take all of us to dress it up. What do you think of your first Christmas tree, little girl?"
"She's already tried to belly-scoot over to it when I put her on the floor. I can't wait to see what she does when she sees it all decked out. "
"Then I'd better get a move on. " Roz gave Lily a kiss, handed her back. "It's a bit warm yet, but I think we ought to have a fire. And somebody tell David to ice down some champagne. I'll be down shortly. "
It had been too long since there were children in the house for Christmas, Roz thought as she hurried upstairs. And damn if having them there didn't make her feel like a kid herself.
Chapter Two
ROZ TOOK HER
holiday mood shopping. The nursery could get along without her for half a day. The fact was, the way Stella managed it, the nursery could get along without her for a week. If she had the urge, she could take herself off on her first real vacation in - how long had it been? Three years, she realized.
But she didn't have the urge.
Home was where she was happiest, so why go to all the trouble of packing, endure the stress of traveling, just to end up somewhere else?
She'd taken the boys on a trip every year when they were growing up. Disney World, the Grand Canyon, Washington, D. C. , Bar Harbor, and so on. Little tastes of the country, sometimes chosen at whim, sometimes with great planning.
Then they'd taken that three-week vacation in Europe. Hadn't that been a time?
It had been hard, sometimes frantic, sometimes hysterical, herding three active boys around, but oh, it had been worth it.
She could remember how Austin had loved the whale-watch cruise in Maine, how Mason had insisted on ordering snails in Paris, and Harper had managed to get himself lost in Adventureland.
She wouldn't trade those memories for anything. And she'd seen a nice chunk of the world herself.
Instead of a vacation, she could concentrate on other things. Maybe it was time to start thinking about adding a little florist shop onto the nursery. Fresh-cut flowers and arrangements. Local delivery. Of course, it would mean another building, more supplies, more employees. But it was something to think about for a year or two down the road.
She'd have to go over some figures, see if the business could handle the outlay.
She'd sunk a great deal of her personal resources into the nursery to get it off the ground. But she'd been ready to gamble. Her priorities had been, always, that her children were safe, secure, and well provided for. And that Harper House remain tended, protected, and in the family.
She'd accomplished that. Though there'd been times it had taken a lot of creative juggling and had caused the occasional sleepless night. Perhaps money hadn't been the terrifying issue for her that it often was for single parents, but it had been an issue.
In the Garden hadn't just been a whim, as some thought. She'd needed fresh income and had bargained, gambled, and finagled to get it.
It didn't matter to Roz if people thought she was rich as Croesus or poor as a church mouse. The fact was she was neither, but she'd built a good life for herself and her children with the resources she'd had at hand.
Now, if she wanted to go just a little crazy playing Santa, she'd earned it.