The phone rang and he saw the caller ID indicated Will, which was no surprise. Zach was tempted to avoid answering and the questions that would follow. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone to talk.
“Yes, Will, I’m here at the ranch. I decided to stay in Texas.” He tried to put some cheer in his voice and realized he was failing.
“Are you sick?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Is Rosie there?”
“No. You know I gave her and Nigel three weeks off. I’m okay. Merry Christmas. Let me talk to Caroline.”
He talked briefly to his niece and she suddenly said goodbye and Will returned. “We’re getting snow. How’s the weather there?”
“I know you didn’t call to get a weather report.”
“No, I didn’t. Just some small talk while I walked into another room and closed the door for privacy. Zach, if you’re in love with Emma, do something about it. You might have to live life a little more on the ordinary side like the rest of us do.”
Zach had to laugh. “And a merry Christmas to you, too, Dr. Phil. Stop giving me advice.”
“Okay, but this is so unlike you. Do you want to fly up here today and spend tomorrow with us? I promise we’re fun.”
“I’m sure you’re fun galore, but I’m happy here,” he said, giving some thought to Will’s invitation. For the first time, he was slightly tempted, but he still preferred Texas where he was closer to Emma. “When have I not been happy alone?”
“Maybe since you met Emma Hillman. Well, you’re a grown man and I won’t give you advice, just an invitation. And a merry Christmas.”
“Thanks, Will. Thanks for calling and for your invitation. I really mean it. Merry Christmas to you all.”
As he hung up, Zach had to smile over his brother’s ridiculous call. He paced restlessly and then stopped to look down at the largest box of memorabilia. He pulled up a chair and picked up a letter to read.
“All right, Emma. I’ll try again to find something fascinating in my ancestors’ lives.”
He read two letters and tossed both in the discard box. He picked up another and saw it was his written by his great-great-grandfather during the second year of the Civil War.
“My dearest Tabitha:
“My love, we covered twenty miles today in the rain. It is dark and cold now and I write by firelight. I am glad we did not encounter any of our enemy because our ammunition and our supplies run low. I am fortunate to have both my rifle and my revolver, plus ammunition. Others are not so fortunate. This ghastly war between the States is tearing our country apart. My dearest, how I miss you! If I could just hold you against my heart. You and our son.
“This fighting is lonely and desperate. How I long to be with you this night and see your smile, that would be a Christmas treasure to me. Know that I send my love to you on this Christmas night. You and our little one are the most important part of my life and what I am fighting for. I dream of peace for our babe and his descendants and their offspring. How I wish I could see our son, this precious babe. My heart aches with wanting to be with you and my child on this night. Nothing else on this earth matters, but I fight to keep life secure for the two of you.”
For the first time Zach felt a thread of kinship with this ancestor from generations earlier. Feeling foolish for his emotional reaction to the old letter, Zach continued to read. “I close my eyes and imagine you holding out your arms and smiling at me. Someday, my love, we will be together again. Know that I send my love to you and our son on this Christmas night.” He could be saying those words to Emma. Leaning back in his chair, Zach watched flames dance in the fireplace. He missed Emma. He could imagine the ache in his relative’s life on a cold Christmas night away from his young wife and a baby.
He picked up the letter to continue reading:
“Know you are my life and you and our offspring have my love always. I want this land to be safe for our son and his sons. My family I hold dearest of everything on this earth. I dream of when I can come home and we are together once again. My love, how I long to hold you close to my heart. All my love to you from your adoring husband, Warner Irwin Delaney.”
Zach had a tightening in his chest and he placed the letter in the discard box with the others without thinking about what he was doing. As he finished reading, all his thoughts focused on Emma and the letter. She would have been touched by it.
Was he missing out on life as she had said? Was he missing the most treasured part—a woman’s love and a family’s love?
He had never really thought marriage could be happy and filled with love until he had been with Emma’s family, because he had never seen a loving family in his own home or his oldest brother’s or even in any of his friends. Garrett’s parents seemed the closest and Garrett had been happy growing up, but the Cantrells had not exhibited the warmth and closeness the Hillmans had.
Will had not been married long enough for his marriage to count. Will was in euphoria and still steeped in his honeymoon. The Hillman seniors had been married for years and they were obviously in love. Zach had never thought of marrying or having a child—yet he loved Caroline and he barely saw her. How much more would he love one of his own that he saw often? Surely he would love his offspring deeply, and, if he ever had any, he intended to give them all the time and attention he possibly could.
Emma was a steadying influence, her calm faith in love, her cheer, her optimism—maybe he desperately needed that in his life. He needed her. It was still Christmas Eve morning. He reached for his phone and made arrangements to get the plane ready to fly to Dallas. He had to see Emma.
Christmas Eve at four in the afternoon Emma rushed back to her apartment. It was already getting dark outside with an overcast gray sky and a light snow predicted. Carrying an armload of packages, she hurried into her apartment building to be stopped by the doorman.
“Miss Hillman, you have a delivery.”
Surprised, she waited while he disappeared into the office and returned with a red crystal vase that held several dozen red roses and stems of holly.
“That’s for me?” she said, glancing at the packages filling her arms. “I’ll come back to get it.”
“I’ll bring it up. I didn’t want to leave it in the hall.”
“Thank you.” At her apartment she unlocked the door and stepped back to let him carry the bouquet inside and set it down.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Hillman. You have beautiful flowers.”
“Thank you. Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Wilburton,” she said, tipping him for carrying up her flowers.f
She dropped her packages and closed the door, hearing the lock click in place. The flowers had to be from Zach. She pulled out a card, looking at a familiar scrawling handwriting that she had seen so many times in the past few weeks.
“Merry Christmas, Emma. Zach.” A pang rocked her. How she wished he were here! She missed him more each day and tried to avoid thinking about it if she could. With a glance at her watch, she realized she should get ready soon to join her family.
Hurrying to hang up her coat, she turned on her Christmas lights.
Lights sparkled on her tall green Douglas fir that held sparse ornaments, which she added to each Christmas. She had greenery and candles on her mantel, a wreath on her door and a dining room centerpiece of holly around the base of a large poinsettia that had been given to her by friends from her office.
This year she had added something new. She looked at the sprig of mistletoe she had hung above the doorway into the dining area. The mistletoe made her think of Zach and their mistletoe kisses. She wondered how he was enjoying his Italian villa. For all she knew,