Threads of Kindness (Rosemont #11)

Chapter 1

M aggie Martin snuggled under the covers, her hand searching for her husband in the empty space beside her. The area where he was meant to be lying was still warm. Even on Christmas morning, it did not surprise her that John Allen, DVM, was not in bed.

Maggie thought back to those long-ago days when Mike and Susan had been children, and she and Paul, her deceased husband, were young parents. They had been happy then—hadn’t they? She had always believed that, but his later betrayals cast doubt on the truth behind her early marital memories.

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her head further into the pillow in a futile attempt to banish the unwelcome thoughts of her late husband.She sighed and flung the covers aside. Troubled by unsettling memories, she couldn’t get back to sleep.

Maggie shoved her feet into the slippers that lived at the side of her bed and shrugged into her fuzzy robe. She padded to the bank of tall, mullioned windows that overlooked the rear gardens and pulled the heavy drape aside.

Moonlight bathed the sloping back lawn that extended to a line of trees along the rear of the property.

Westbury had received another two inches of snow overnight.

The unblemished blanket of white looked like icing on a cake dusted with glittery sugar.

The scene was magical—perfect for Christmas morning.

Breaking with years of tradition, she wasn’t hosting Christmas dinner at Rosemont this year.

Since Thanksgiving, when it had been decided to hold this year’s dinner at the Olsson House, she had been telling herself she was grateful for the break in her routine.

The fall, with new allegations against Paul—and, by extension, herself, since he was deceased—had been intensely stressful.

She should be glad that the only thing she had to do today was get dressed, go to Susan’s in the morning, and join the crew at the Olsson House later in the day. She was free to do as she pleased.

As she held the curtain open, Maggie realized she was sad and depressed.

She loved preparing to host a party almost as much as she loved giving the party itself.

Having a jam-packed schedule was as much a part of her holiday tradition as exchanging gifts, singing carols, and gathering with friends and family.

Now that the script had been flipped and she was the guest, Maggie wasn’t sure she liked the feeling.

Eve, the faithful terrier mix who had adopted her on the night she moved into Rosemont, rose from her bed in the corner of the room and came to stand by her mistress. The intuitive pup rose on her hind legs and placed her paws against Maggie’s thigh.

“You know I’m out of sorts, don’t you, girl?” Maggie leaned to one side to stroke the soft fur of the animal she loved.

Eve wagged her tail and peppered Maggie’s hand with doggy kisses.

“Don’t worry about me, girl. I’m being silly.

Today is going to be a wonderful day. It’s going to be a different kind of Christmas from the ones I love.

But things change, and I need to change with them.

Before I know it, Susan will be in charge of Christmas Day, and John and I will be guests. It’ll be fine.”

Maggie let the curtain drop back into place and lowered her knee to the floor until she was face-to-face with her pup.

“Has your buddy, Roman, followed John to the kitchen?”

Eve thrashed her tail, nearly knocking herself off balance.

“I thought so,” Maggie said. “Let’s go downstairs to see what they’re up to. It’s time for your breakfast, too. It’s time to get this Christmas Day started.”

Eve trotted ahead as Maggie stepped onto the staircase that hugged the outer wall of Rosemont and opened to the living room.

A fire crackled in the hearth and the lights of the Christmas tree that soared to the ceiling in the center of the room were on.

The flickering flames threw into sharp relief their stockings, hanging from the mantel.

Maggie paused on the bottom step to survey the welcoming scene in front of her. Not a day went by that she didn’t appreciate the beauty of their home. She would always be grateful for the sequence of unexpected events that had led her to Rosemont and her dream man.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drew her toward the kitchen. The library, dining room, and conservatory glowed with the light of their smaller Christmas trees. All is calm, all is bright, Maggie thought.

She padded into the kitchen to find her husband setting a carafe of coffee on a tray holding two giant-sized Christmas mugs. Beside them was a pink bakery box, its lid pulled open to reveal an assortment of croissants and Danish pastries.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Maggie said, crossing to him and standing on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

John abandoned the tray and swept her into his arms. “Merry Christmas to you, darling.” He bent, and they kissed.

When they finally pulled apart, Maggie stepped back and finally noticed what he was wearing.

“You’re in scrubs,” she said. “Are you going to the animal hospital?”

“Just for a bit. We’re boarding a couple of surgical patients who need to be checked on. I’ll look in on them this morning, and Sherry will do the same this evening. That way, I won’t miss the fun at the Olsson House.”

“You remember we’re going to Susan’s?”

“Of course. Do you honestly think I would forget being with Julia when she opens her gifts?”

“Good point. No, I don’t. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that anything that involves her is your top priority.” She pointed to the tray. “So, what’s all this?”

“It’s Christmas. We could treat ourselves to two breakfasts, if we like. Besides, this is just coffee and pastries.”

Maggie peered inside the bakery box. “You got chocolate pistachio croissants for me, didn’t you?”

“I know my best gal’s favorite.”

“These things have an entire day’s worth of calories in them.”

“As I said—it’s Christmas. Who cares? We don’t count calories on Christmas.”

“This is awfully sweet of you, John, especially since you won’t have much time to enjoy it.”

“I wanted to make sure you had something nice while I went into the hospital.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“I was worried you’d be a little bit …” He paused, searching for the right word.

“Blue today. You’re normally up at the crack of dawn on Christmas, getting ready for the Rosemont dinner.

I’ve been married to you long enough to know how much you love the hustle and bustle. I was afraid you’d miss it.”

Maggie rested her hand on his chest. “You know me so well. Iwaspretty melancholy when I got out of bed this morning. But coming downstairs to see the beautiful trees lit, and to smell the aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen, where my dreamboat of a husband was waiting for me, well … the blues just vanished.”

“I’m thrilled to hear that, my dear.” John took a quick glance at his watch. “Let’s take this into the living room. I’ve got time for a quick cup of coffee and my favorite cherry Danish before I have to leave for the hospital.”

He picked up the tray, and she followed him into the living room.

They sat together in companionable silence, enjoying their treats.

“I’d better be on my way,” John said. “I promise I’ll be home by six thirty at the latest. What do you plan to do in the meantime?”

“Well,” Maggie cocked an eyebrow, “since calories don’t count on Christmas, I think I’ll have a second cup of coffee with a cheese Danish. I’ll still have plenty of time to get ready before you’re home.”

Bubbles emerged from the shadows and jumped into Maggie’s lap. Maggie stroked the cat until throaty purring became background music in the room.

“Can I offer a suggestion?”

“Of course.”

“Why don’t you take a nice, long bath? I know you love to soak in the tub, and it’s been ages since you’ve had time to do that.”

“My gosh, that’s a genius idea,” Maggie said. “I think I’m going to like these slower Christmas mornings.”

John planted a kiss on the top of her head, scooped up a second Danish to eat on his drive to work, and left Maggie to enjoy the solitude.