“Can you tell me your name?” Sherrie asked, and was rewarded with a soft whisper.
“Lucy Blanchard.”
“Lucy. That’s a nice name.” Sherrie smiled, forgetting for the moment that the child’s formidable father stood just a few feet away. “I can tell you’ve been a good girl. What would you like me to ask Santa to bring you for Christmas?”
Lucy stared at her, as if she wasn’t sure she understood the question. “Daddy said Santa couldn’t come.”
Sherrie nodded. “I’m afraid Santa is really busy getting all the toys ready for Christmas Eve. But I’ll be talking to him before he leaves the North Pole on his sleigh, so you can tell me what you want. I’ll make sure he gets the message, okay?”
“Okay.”
Sherrie waited a moment, while the little girl continued to study her face. “Is there something you really want for Christmas?” she prompted, when Lucy seemed content to remain silent.
Lucy nodded, then looked over her shoulder at her father, who was watching the kids in the toy department trying out everything on the shelves. Apparently reassured, the little girl leaned forward to put her mouth close to Sherrie’s ear.
“I want a mommy,” she whispered.
Her hair tickled Sherrie’s ear, and she wasn’t sure she’d heard right. “You mean a mommy doll?”
Lucy shook her head. “A real mommy.”
Sherrie felt cold, as if someone had turned on the airconditioning. “You don’t have a mommy?”
Again Lucy shook her head, her beautiful eyes pleading with Sherrie to understand.
Sherrie had to clear her throat. “Well, Lucy, that’s quite a wish. I’ll be sure to tell Santa what you want, but you do understand he can’t always bring children what they ask for. He will do his very best, and I’m sure you’ll be happy with whatever he does bring for you.”
Lucy listened gravely to the practiced speech, her eyes fixed on Mrs. Claus’s face. She seemed to think about it for a while, then she let out a small sigh. “I just want a mommy. Daddy and me is very lonely.”
Sherrie looked into those liquid blue eyes and felt her heart melt. Scrooge himself couldn’t have denied the appeal in that face. “Well, sweetheart,” she said softly, “we’ll just have to see what we can do, won’t we?”
Later, in Tom’s apartment, Sherrie sank onto the shabby couch with a weary sigh. By the time she finished playing Mrs. Claus next month, she thought ruefully, she’d have muscles Mr. Universe would envy. Thank heavens the job was only four hours a day. Any longer than that and someone would have to carry her out of the place.
After the noisy chatter of the children, she welcomed the quiet peace of the silent room. Leaning her back against a soft, plump pillow, she closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind.
Gradually the clamor of excited voices began to fade until all that was left was the wistful whisper of a sadfaced little girl.
Sherrie opened her eyes again and sat up. Now that she had time to think about it, she was beginning to realize just what she had taken on. She had more or less promised a trusting child that she would find her a mother. Even more daunting was the other side to that particular coin. She would have to find a wife for Matthew Blanchard.
No longer feeling relaxed, Sherrie jumped up and went into Tom’s tiny kitchen. She had set herself a formidable task, she thought, as she studied the meager contents of the ancient fridge. She would have to find a very special woman, someone with a heart full of love to give to a lonely little girl.
That would be difficult enough. Finding someone who was willing to take on Matthew Blanchard as part of the deal might be darn well impossible.
She would give a great deal to know what had happened to Lucy’s mother. It could have been a divorce, or perhaps the mother had died. Either way, Lucy must miss her mother a great deal. She would be hard to replace.
Sherrie closed the door of the fridge with a shudder and opened up a cabinet. The only item that looked remotely appetizing was a packet of macaroni and cheese. Obviously her brother was not fond of eating at home.
Sighing, she reached for the packet and made a mental note to shop on the way home from the store the next day.
After dinner, Sherrie tried to concentrate on a television program, but the vision of Lucy Blanchard’s pensive face kept getting in the way. To make matters worse, the stern features of Lucy’s father also kept intruding on her thoughts.
Finally giving up, Sherrie switched off the television and thought of the task she’d set for herself. Lucy would present no problem, once Mrs. Claus had found the right woman. It was Matthew Blanchard who presented the biggest obstacle.
Impatient with herself, Sherrie went back into the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate. She didn’t know enough about the man to make a fair judgment, she told herself. First impressions could be misleading and, after all, he had a lot going in his favor.
In the first place, he was nice-looking. Attractive, even, if one went for the strong, intense type. He was obviously well-off, since he owned the largest department store in town. If only he would lighten up and smile now and again, he’d be quite a catch—as long as someone was willing to make the effort to break through that intimidating front he presented.
All she had to do, Sherrie decided as she crawled into bed, was find the right woman. Out of all the single women she knew, there had to be someone who would be perfect for Lucy and her implacable father.
Having convinced herself on that score, Sherrie did her best to go to sleep. It wasn’t easy. Alone in the unfamiliar apartment, every sound seemed ominous. Tom had intended to sleep on the couch while she was staying with him, and she couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t had to leave.
Now that she had nothing to do but think, Jason’s last-minute betrayal seemed catastrophic. She had lost much more than a future husband. She’d given up her cozy home in a familiar neighborhood where she knew most of the locals. But even if her apartment hadn’t been rented, she knew she wouldn’t return there.
She preferred to make a completely new start in a place where no one knew she’d been dumped at the altar. As for Jason, he had completely destroyed her trust in men. In her opinion, marriage was overrated and risky at best. She could only hope that Matthew Blanchard’s new wife would have better luck.
Annoyed with the way her mind kept returning to her unapproachable boss, she turned on her side and tried to get comfortable. Tom’s apartment could use some new furniture, she thought, as she pummeled the pillow. It could also use a woman’s touch—something pretty on the walls would help cheer up the place. Her brother really needed a wife as well.
She smiled to herself in the darkness. If she could find a wife for Matthew Blanchard, finding one for Tom would be a breeze. On that happy thought, she drifted off to sleep.
Matt just happened to be standing near the employees’ entrance when Sherrie Latimer arrived the next morning. He’d convinced himself that he was merely checking to make sure she was going to turn up for work. After all, she’d looked pretty tired by the end of her shift yesterday.
He refused to even consider the possibility that he wanted to see her arrive for the sole purpose of checking out her figure. Not even when his pulse leapt as she came through the door.
He’d forgotten the way her honey gold hair with its hint of red curled onto her shoulders. Without the glasses and white wig she looked incredibly young.
She