My Kind of Christmas

idea,” Brie said, smiling at Angie. “Try it out. If it gets a little too quiet, I have a guest room and Mel has the guesthouse.”
    “Thanks, Brie.”
    “Hey, when you’re running away from home, you should at least have your choice of accommodations,” Brie added.
    “I’m not really running away.... Well, okay, I guess that is what I’m doing. Thanks, you guys. Seriously, thanks.”
    Mel laughed. “It’s not exactly an original idea. Brie and I both landed here because we were running away from stuff. I’m going to go get Preacher and Paige. They’ve been so anxious to see you. And I’ll call your folks to tell them you made it here safely.”
    “You had no trouble driving?” Jack asked.
    “I like driving, but my dad insisted we swap cars. I have his SUV and he has my little Honda,” she said. “But I wasn’t nervous. Maybe because I don’t remember the accident.”
    But Angie didn’t want to dwell on what had happened. She was here to relax, to escape, to move forward with her life. Changing the subject, she asked, “And did everyone have a great Thanksgiving?”
    “I might never eat again,” Brie said. “How about you?”
    “We were all at Grandpa’s and it was good, except for a little melodrama about me leaving for a month. Between the aunts, uncles and cousins there seems to be quite a diversity of opinion on how I should live my life.”
    “I imagine. And what did Sam say?” Brie asked of her father.
    “Grandpa thought it was an excellent idea to come up here for a little while and he reminded us all that you did that yourself, Brie.”
    “And you know what? He was very supportive and encouraging at the time, even though he was at least as worried about me as your parents are about you. He had guessed I was in love. Your grandpa is a pretty modern, savvy guy.”
    “Yes,” Angie said quietly. She was close to Sam Sheridan and had often wished, over the past nine months, that she could tell him she had seen Grandma and that she had looked wonderful. But she wasn’t sure she hadn’t been dreaming or hallucinating, and second, Grandma had been gone such a long time. She didn’t want to stir up grief in her grandpa.
    Preacher came out of the kitchen with a look of stun and awe on his face as he pulled off his apron and tossed it over the bar before grabbing Angie up in his big arms, spinning her right off her stool. “Aw, girl, girl, girl,” he said, hugging her tight. Then he held her away and looked her over. “You are beautiful!” And then he had to let go of her to wipe his eyes.
    “Preach,” she said, laughing.
    Paige slipped around her husband, giving Angie a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said softly.
    “Your big scary husband is crying.”
    “I know,” she said. “He’s such a softie. He’s the last person you want to meet in a dark alley, but he’s so tenderhearted. He cries at Disney movies and Hallmark commercials.”
    “Yesterday I cried over football,” he said. “It was pathetic all day. I’m just so damn glad to see you, Ange. Your uncle Jack was a mess while you were in the hospital, he was so worried.”
    “And as you can see, all is well,” she said.
    “Mel says you want a takeout. I’ll make you anything you want—you just tell me what.”
    “I’ll have whatever’s on the menu and a bottle of wine. Do you have any sauvignon blanc?”
    “Are you sure you’re allowed alcohol?” Jack asked.
    “Yes,” she said with a laugh, holding up her glass. “Hence the beer I’m drinking. I promise not to get wasted. But, gee, some of Preacher’s dinner, a glass of wine, a fire, a book, peace and quiet… Oh, Jack, there are logs out there, right?”
    “You’re all set,” he said. “Do you know how to light the fire?”
    She rolled her eyes. “Preacher, do you suppose I could do a little graze through your kitchen? Grab some staples—a few eggs, some milk, bread, that sort of thing? In case I wake up starving?”
    “Absolutely,” he said.
    Although it was soft and low, Angie heard someone clear his throat. There, at the end of the bar in the corner was a lone man in an army-green, down-padded jacket. He had dark hair, an empty beer glass and some money in his hand.
    Jack turned to him, took his money and said, “Thanks, bud. See you around.”
    “Have a nice reunion,” the man said, moving to leave.
    He was so tall—that was what Angie noticed first. As tall as her uncle Jack. And his dark hair had some red in