“I’ve been pounding the pavement all day, checking out antique stores and jewelry stores for a replacement tea service. Noelle’s been doing an Internet search.”

His sister frowned. “I don’t want to discourage you, but you’re not going to find one.”

She certainly had a way of cutting to the chase. “Thank you for that note of optimism. Anyway, how can you be so sure? Noelle thinks she might have a lead.”

“Hey, that’s good,” Rob said. “It’s worth trying to find…whatever this thing is that you’re looking for.”

“An antique silver tea service—I’ll fill you in later, Rob.” She turned to her brother. “I don’t want to be pessimistic. It’s just that Mom and Dad looked for years. They’ve given up now, but for a long time they left no stone unturned.”

“If we find one, we’ll consider it a Christmas miracle.”

“Definitely,” Suzanne agreed. “And I’d consider it a lucky omen, too.”

“But you don’t think we’ll succeed.”

“No,” his sister told him. “I don’t think so, but who knows?”

“If I ask Noelle to be part of my life, will you accept her?”

“Of course.” Suzanne didn’t hesitate. “But I’m not the one whose opinion matters. However, Rob’s right, you’ve got to live your own life, and we’ll support you in whatever choice you make.”

He visited with his sister a while longer and assured her that no matter what he decided, he’d meet the family for the annual Christmas Eve dinner, followed by church services.

The next morning Noelle was waiting in the park at the appointed time and place when he got there. His heart reacted instantly to the sight of her. She looked like an angel in her long white wool coat and cashmere scarf. A Christmas angel. He smiled at the thought— even if he was getting sentimental in his old age.

“Merry Christmas,” he said.

“Merry Christmas, Thom.” Her eyes brightened as he approached.

Thom folded her in his arms and their kisses were deep and urgent. His mouth lingered on hers, gradually easing into gentler kisses. Finally he whispered, “Ready to go?”

“I hope this isn’t a wild-goose chase,” Noelle told him as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I do, too.” But if it was, at least he’d be spending the day with her.

If they couldn’t carry out their quest, they’d simply have to find some other way to persuade both mothers to accept the truth—that Thomas Sutton and Noelle McDowell were in love.

It was Christmas Eve, nine in the morning, and Sarah McDowell was eager to finish with the Christmas baskets. She’d skillfully wrapped each gift to transport to the Salvation Army.

“You’re coming with me, aren’t you?” she asked her husband.

Jake glanced up from the morning paper, frowning. “I can’t.”