Drake Sisters 02 - The Twilight Before Christmas

them.
    “You look real y good in that satin robe, bro,” Danny declared, nudging his brother with the hooked end of his staff.
    “Shut up, Danny, or I’m going to kick your butt,” Matt threatened out of the side of his mouth. He kept his eyes straight ahead, trudging like a man doomed, carrying his gift of frankincense on a white satin pil ow out in front of him. He’d argued the wise men hadn’t had white satin pil ows to use carrying the foul-smel ing stuff, but not a single person had listened, and his protests had earned him a black scowl from Inez. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not looking at the waving townspeople as he marched stoical y onward to the town square with his sil y grin on his face.
    Danny whistled at him. “That robe manages to show your butt off nicely, Matt.” He tapped the offending part of Matt’s anatomy with the staff again.
    “Sorry, little accident, couldn’t help myself.”
    “I hope you have life insurance,” Matt said in his most menacing voice. He made the mistake of looking up to judge the distance to the square. He had to know the exact amount of time he would have to suffer further humiliation. Kate stood there with her sisters. Every last one of them had a huge smile on her face. Matt entertained the idea of throwing the frankincense at their feet and hauling Kate over his shoulder like the Neanderthal they al thought he was. He’d keep the robe, it might come in handy.
    Danny poked him with the staff again. “Get along there little dogie,” he teased.
    Matt’s furious gaze settled on Old Man Mars. He stood slightly apart, watching the pageant with a peculiar look on his face, somewhere between mortification and shock. It was obvious he shared Matt’s view of the idiotic robes. The old man caught his eye, read the pain on Matt’s face, and stepped closer to commiserate. He walked alongside Matt.
    “She made you do this, didn’t she?” Mars asked.
    “Damn right. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be caught dead in this getup,” Matt replied, hope beginning to stir.
    Mars nodded as if he understood Matt’s total misery and stepped back away from him with his arms folded. Behind him, Danny began the mantra.
    “Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.” He glanced nervously at the old man as he approached him.
    “Merry Christmas.” Matt turned back with a cheerful grin. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Mars,” he said happily.
    A black scowl settled over Old Man Mars’s face. His craggy brows drew together in a straight thick line. He made a single sound of disgust and spat on the ground. The old man delivered his yearly kick right to Danny’s shin and shuffled off, muttering something about tomatoes. Danny howled and jumped around, holding his injured shin. The staff swung around in a wide circle so that the participants had to break ranks and run for safety. Matt kept walking straight past Inez and the outraged look on her face. Kate met him at the stable, lifting her face for his kiss, while Inez fol owed Danny, giving him her annual Christmas lecture on behavior.
    “Al in al , Katie,” Matt said, holding her close, “I’d say this was a very satisfactory pageant.”

Epilogue
“SO, DID YOUR WISH COME TRUE?” SARAH asked.
    Matt reached out to take the snowglobe from her, turning it over and over in his hands. He looked across the room at Kate. His Kate. The flames leaped and danced in the fireplace. The Drake sisters were decorating a live tree they’d brought in for Christmas Day. The next day they would plant it on their property near the many other trees that marked the passing of the years.
    The house smel ed of cedar and pine and cinnamon and spice. Berry candles adorned the mantel and the aroma of fresh-baked cookies drifted from the kitchen. Jonas appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Red and green frosting smeared his face and fingers, and an apron covered his clothes.
    “No one asked me if my wish came true,” he complained.
    “You’re such a baby, Jonas,” Joley informed him with a little sniff. She caught the apron strings and dragged him backward. “You were the one who said there was nothing to baking cookies, and we should try our hand at doing it the old-fashioned way.”
    Jonas escaped and raced back into the living room. “You! You!” he protested. “Women bake cookies. That’s what they do. They sit around the house looking pretty and hand their man a plate of cookies and a drink when he comes home.”
    Jonas grinned at