Chapters (25)
- Cover
- The Christmas Basket
- Other titles by Debbie Macomber now available wherever Harlequin ebooks are sold:
- Dedication
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter One
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Two
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Three
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Four
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Five
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Six
- NOELLE McDOWELL’S JOURNAL
- Chapter Seven
- A NOTE FROM NOELLE McDOWELL
- Chapter Eight
- Women’s Century Club Rose, Oregon
- Chapter Nine
- Sarah McDowell
- About the Author
- Copyright
“Do you think she’ll be there?” her mother asked, lowering her voice.
“Mrs. Sutton’s probably asking the same thing about you,” Noelle said.
Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll say one thing about Mary Sutton—she never did lack nerve.”
The Century Club was festive, with Christmas music and evergreen swags and large red bows. The ballroom was on the second floor, the cloakroom, a bar and buffet on the first. Couples lingered on the wide staircase, chatting and sipping champagne.
Noelle glanced toward the upstairs, and her stomach tensed. Thom was there. She didn’t need to see him to feel his presence. Why did he have to show up everywhere she did? Was this some kind of cosmic joke?
“Kristen!” her mother called. “Yoo hoo!” Anyone might think it’d been weeks since she’d last spoken to her daughter. “Hello, Jonathan.” She hugged her soon-to-be son-in-law.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” Kristen paused in front of Carley, feigning shock. “This isn’t my little sister, is it? It can’t be.”
Carley rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide her pleasure. “Of course it’s me. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Shall we go upstairs?” her mother suggested.
Noelle recognized the order disguised as a request. They were to mount the stairs on guard, as a family, in case they ran into the dreaded Mary Sutton.
Kristen cozied up to Noelle. “He’s here,” she whispered in her ear.
“I know.”
“Who told you?”
“No one.” She couldn’t explain how she’d recognized Thom’s presence. She just did. Like it or not.
The ballroom was crowded, and although this wasn’t the kind of social activity Noelle would have attended on her own, she couldn’t help getting caught up in the spirit of the evening. A six-piece orchestra was playing a waltz, the chandeliers glittered and she saw that it had indeed begun to snow; flakes drifted gently past the dark windows. On the polished dance floor, the women in their long shimmery gowns whirled around in the arms of their dashing partners. The scene reminded her of a Victorian Christmas card.
“Would you care to dance?” Jonathan asked.
Surprised, Noelle nodded. She’d only spoken once or twice to this man who was marrying her sister, and was anxious to know him better. “Thank you. That would be very nice.”
Just as Noelle and Jonathan stepped onto the dance floor, Kristen’s gaze met her fiancé’s. Noelle could have sworn some unspoken message passed between them. She didn’t have time to question her sister before Jonathan loosely wrapped her in his arms.
“I assume you heard what happened at the Value-X store,” she said, searching for a subject of conversation.
“Did you have as much trouble not laughing as I did?”
“More,” Noelle confessed with a grin.
“I’ve done business with the Suttons. They’re good people.”