"TXT - Nora Roberts - Dream 02 - Holding The Dream" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

"How could I forget the mess the three of you made? And Mr. Josh teasing
the lot of you and biting the heads off Mrs. Williamson's gingerbread
men." She lifted a hand to touch Kate's cheek. "You've grown up since.
Times like this I miss my little girls."

"We'll always be your little girls, Annie." They paused in the parlor
doorway to survey the scene.

It made Kate grin, just the look of everything. The tree, already
shining with lights, soared a good ten feet. It stood in front of the
tall windows that faced the front. Boxes of ornaments brought out of
storage sat ready to be opened.

In the lapis hearth decked with candles and fresh greenery a sedate fire
flickered. Scents of apple wood and pine and perfume filled the room.

How she loved this house, she thought. Before the decorating was done,
every room would have just the right touches of holiday cheer. A bowl of
Georgian silver filled with pine-cones would be flanked by candles.
Banks of poinsettias in gilt-trimmed pots would crowd all the window
seats. Delicate porcelain angels would be placed just so on glossy
mahogany tables in the foyer. The old Victorian Santa would claim his
place of honor on the baby grand.

She could remember her first Christmas at Templeton House. How the
grandeur of it had dazzled her eyes and the constant warmth had soothed
that ache just under her heart.

Now half of her life had been lived here, and the traditions had become
her own.

She wanted to freeze this moment in her mind, make it forever and
unchangeable. There, she thought, the way the firelight dances over Aunt
Susie's face as she laughs at Uncle Tommy--and the way he takes her hand
and holds it. How perfect they look, she thought, the delicate-framed
woman and the tall, distinguished man.

Christmas hymns played quietly as she took it all in. Laura knelt by the
boxes, lifting out a red glass ball that caught the light and tossed it
back. Margo poured steaming chocolate from a silver pot and practiced
her flirting skills on Josh.

He stood on a ladder with the lights from the tree glinting in his
bronze hair. They played over his face as he grinned down at Margo.

In this room filled with shining silver, sparkling glass, pol ished old
wood and soft fabrics, they were perfect. And they were hers.

"Aren't they beautiful, Annie?"