Page 3 of All I Want for Christmas

O Come, All Ye Faithfulwas playing as I opened it—a baby doll who pottied on the provided plastic toilet. I was ten going on twenty at that point, and I thought I was too old for dolls, let alone dolls that peed, but it didn’t stop my tears of gratitude. I gave him the biggest hug, and kissed his cheek, and he told me Santa had noticed I was a good girl. I knew it was from him, but I played along, catching the dark look in my mother’s eyes.

She broke up with him two days later.

It was no secret why. She’d claimed she was protecting me because he was a pervert for giving me a gift like that, but we both knew it was because he’d given me more attention than she ever had. Jenny Lynn Rivers was an attention whore who always wanted the spotlight on herself, and she saw me as competition.

Less than two years later, she dropped me off at my grandmother’s farm and she never looked back.

Christmas at Granny’s was different than with my mother. There was always a tree and plenty of stockings and lots of food—a luxury that had often been in short supply with Jenny Lynn. But there were also lots of people and lots of noise and lots of confusion. Sometimes, I felt lost in the crowd.

My cousin Witt was closest to me in age, and we were friends when we were younger, but he was a rowdy boy who was rough and tumble with our older cousins. Christmases with the Riverses were better, but I still didn’t feel like they were mine.

So, this Christmas, I’d decided it was going to be the Christmas I’d always dreamed of as a child. I swore that Daisy would have everything I hadn’t—trees with store-bought ornaments, cookies, carols, and lots and lots of presents.

Which meant I was going overboard on everything.

So, I knew Rose thought I was being ridiculous even if she was too kind to say so. I suspected Jed secretly did too. Sure, Ned’s X-mas Tree Farmpozium was bound to be lame, but cutting down a Christmas tree had always been one of my dream Christmas activities, and once Jed found out, he swore he’d make it happen.

But he still refused to wear the bedazzled hat I’d made him.

There was only so much a man could do for the woman he loved before he had to draw the line.

I had to admit that Rose’s idea for the shirt had been a brainstorm, and I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t thought of it. Maybe it was because I’d been too busy bedazzling everything that didn’t move.

Nicholson’s Farm Supply was on the way home, so I pulled into the parking lot then headed straight for the flannel shirts in the men’s section. I was shuffling through the rack when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Well, well, well. I’m surprised to see you here, Neely Kate Colson.”

I spun around and propped a hand on my hip, giving Carter Hale a good-natured glare. “It’s Neely Kate Carlisle now, and before that it was Neely Kate Rivers. You, of all people, should know I hate that name.” He’d been my divorce attorney, after all.

“My apologies,” he said, making a slight bow.

I narrowed my eyes. “What on earth are you doin’ slumming at a farm store, Carter Hale?”

He shrugged as a cheesy grin lit up his face. “Maybe I’m finding a flannel shirt, same as you.”

“Doubtful.” I shook my head. “I struggle to see you in a flannel shirt…althoughmaybea flannel tie.”

He let out a deep laugh. “I’ll have you know I’ve worn flannel shirts in my day.”

“When didyouever wear a flannel shirt?”

“I wore plenty of them when I was a boy. My mother used to shop here regularly.”

That caught me by surprise me, although I wasn’t sure why. I’d heard that Carter was raised in these parts. In fact, I was pretty sure his family lived close to the Louisiana border, and most people down that way didn’t have money. I supposed I’d imagined Carter being born in his suit and tie.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t explain what you’re doin’ here now.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m looking for a Christmas present. It ’tisthe season, after all.”

I gave him a saucy grin. “You’re tellin’ me you have someone who you actually buy Christmas presents for? Your receptionists don’t stick around long enough to warrant a Christmas gift.” I tilted my head. “Can Skeeter Malcolm wear flannel shirts in the federal prison?” I motioned up and down my body. “I thought he was strictly wearin’ orange jumpsuits.”

A serious look crossed his face, and he quickly tried to cover it with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I still have family in these parts.” He studied my face for a long second, then surprised me when he asked, “Are you happy with Jed?”

My mouth parted in shock. “Why would you ask me that?”

He looked grim as he turned to the clothes rack and started sorting through shirts, moving the hangers one by one. “Just checking on my favorite client,” he said. “Giving you part of the whole customer care experience.”

I knew it was more than that. Carter had been interested in me at one point, but I couldn’t help thinking that this had something to do with his loyalty to his boss. Was this because Jed left Skeeter? Was Skeeter out for revenge because he’d been arrested and Jed had gotten off scot-free?

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