Harlequin Holiday Collection - Four Classic Seasonal Novellas

remember.
    Had she changed? Maybe. Or maybe he was being a coward.
    He’d given her every reason she should stay on the island. Except the real one.
    Don’t go. Stay with me. I love you.
    He couldn’t say that to her. She hadn’t given him any indication that she would welcome it.
    Except for the kiss. That had been real.
    It wasn’t very practical of him, falling in love on the basis of one kiss.
    But it hadn’t just been one kiss—it had been a lifetime of knowing her.
    And she already thought he wasn’t very practical.
    His gaze found her again. Now she stood in the archway, chatting with his grandmother. As if she felt his gaze, she looked up at him. Her eyes, wide and startled, were the eyes of the girl he’d known.
    Ally was actually the one person who might understand if he came right out with what was in his heart. They’d always been able to speak to each other heart to heart, without worrying about what they should say or how it would sound.
    He’d tell her. He owed it to both of them to say it at least once before she left.
    He shoved away from the mantel he’d been leaning against. It shouldn’t be hard to detach her from Gran. Gran always had a sixth sense about things like that.
    He’d taken one step toward her when he heard a clatter, a crash, and a cry. He spun around, searching automatically for Kristie.
    One of the running children had bumped into the Christmas tree. Kristie stood, hands pressed against her lips, eyes desolate. Her sand dollar lay shattered on the floor.

Chapter Nineteen
    Allison would have recognized that cry anywhere. Kristie. She turned toward the living room, gaze searching for her daughter.
    She was all right. At least, she didn’t seem to be hurt. Allison hurried across the room toward the tree, weaving through the running children.
    David had reached Kristie first. He knelt next to her, drawing her into the circle of his arms. Allison was caught by the tender expression on his face and by the way her daughter leaned against him.
    She vaguely heard Miranda shepherding the other children into the dining room. The room grew quiet around them, and she moved closer to David and Kristie.
    “I know,” David’s soft drawl was even softer than usual. “I know how disappointed you are, sugar. It was a beautiful ornament, and you made it yourself.”
    Kristie sniffled. “You gave me the shell. I wanted it to be on your tree forever and ever, so you wouldn’t forget me.”
    Allison tried to swallow, but her throat wouldn’t work. David had been more of a father to Kristie in one week than Richard had in her whole life.
    “Honey, I couldn’t forget you.” David sounded as if he had trouble with his throat, too. “No matter how far away you go, I could never, ever, forget you. We’re friends for always. And I’ll find you another sand dollar. Promise.”
    Kristie wiped tears with the back of her hand. “It won’t be the same.” She looked down at the shattered shell.
    David held her closer. “You remember the story I told you about why we use the sand dollar for Christmas?”
    “Because it has the poinsettia on it.”
    “That’s right. But there’s something else I didn’t tell you.” He leaned over the broken shell, pointing. “See those five white things that came out of the shell?”
    Kristie nodded. “They look like little birds.”
    “That’s what they are. There are five tiny doves inside each sand dollar, and when it’s broken, they go free.”
    Allison knelt next to them carefully, as if the moment might shatter like the shell. “That’s a beautiful story, isn’t it, Kristie?”
    Her daughter nodded slowly, as if unwilling to give up her sorrow. “I guess so.” She leaned closer. “They really are like little doves.”
    Free. The thought confused Allison. They’re free.
    Kristie’s smile flickered, lighting her face. “Can I get Sammy and show him?”
    David tousled her hair. “Sure thing.”
    Kristie hurried toward the other room, her brace thumping.
    Allison’s vision blurred with the tears she hadn’t wanted her daughter to see. Oddly enough, she could still make out the doves, flying free. They gave her an odd sensation, the way she’d felt when she’d watched the dolphins arcing through the waves.
    She’d asked for a sign, hadn’t she?

Chapter Twenty
    David saw the tears on Allison’s cheeks. He caught her hands, drawing her to her feet, wanting to wipe away the tears and not quite daring to.
    “She’s going to be