"Worse. But, look at you now, Fanny."

In the kitchen, Sallie made coffee and thick sandwiches. Fanny heated Khee's famous chicken soup while Billie cut pie and cake. "I hear the car!" Billie said, struggling up from the kitchen chair. "I'm so glad you did this, Aunt Sallie."

She was tail and thin with tired, weary eyes, a Coleman through and through. A smile warmed her features the moment she saw Billie. "I know I have you to thank for this."

"Welcome to Sunrise, AmeUa," Sallie said, opening her arms to the frail young woman. Amelia burst into tears as she stepped into the warm embrace. "Yes, it was Billie's idea. I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't think of it. You're much too thin. Before you leave here, you will have meat on your bones. Smile, you're with people who love you dearly. That will never change, I want you to know that. Now, introduce me to this little fellow. And to the critter in his arms."

"I'm Rand Nelson. And this is Sally Dearest," the little boy said, extending his hand. Sallie shook it solemnly.

"And a remarkable cat it is. I can see that from here."

"He's . . . pre . . . precious," the litde boy said. "Is Santa Claus going to know I'm here? Did he come yet?"

"Not till you have something to eat and go to sleep. When you wake up you'll find presents under the tree. He followed you all the way from England." Sallie smiled.

"Smashing!"

"I'd like to put him to bed, if it's all right," Devin said, when Rand's head started to droop into his ice cream and cake. "Where, Sallie?"

"Is it all right if he sleeps in your room on a cot, Amelia?"

"More than all right. The poor baby has awful nightmares. I like to be close to him."

"Of course you do. Let's finish up here, Khee will clean up in the morning. Fanny, draw a bath for Amelia. I laid out clothes for her. A cup of Khee's special tea along with a few drops of brandy will make you feel like a new person."

A second later, Ameha felt herself swooped into a pair of strong arms and carried upstairs. "Who is this wonderful person?" Amelia asked wearily.

Sallie looked at Billie and said sofdy, "My reason for living."

''That, I understand."

Devin set Amelia down by the bathroom door. He steadied her with one strong arm before he let her go. "I imagine you ladies are going to chitter and chat for the remainder of the evening, so if my services aren't needed, I think I'll redre. Call me if you need me."

"He reminds me of Geoff," Amelia said. "Kind and gentle. I felt 288 Fern Michaels comfortable with him the minute I saw him. Geoff was like that. I like the smile in his voice. It reaches his eyes. That means he's a good, kind person. Someday I'd like to hear how he fits into the family."

"WTiy not right now?" Sallie said, perching on the edge of the mb. "He's my lover, my reason for wanting to wake to a new day. He makes me laugh and he can make me cry. He cares about everyone and everything. You're right, there's always a smile in his voice and yes, it reaches his eyes. If I said I wanted the moon, he'd try and find a way to get it for me and he'd wrap it in the stars. Devin is always there, that one-of-a-kind fiiend you can depend on no matter what. He doesn't judge, but accepts you for who and what you are. I never said that out loud. To anyone. I guess I want all of you to know who I am. I don't want any pretenses with my new family. It's not something I consciously try to hide. Everyone in town knows. For Phihp's sake I try to be discreet. He knows. You also need to know I will never divorce Philip. Devin knows that, and so does Philip. Goodness, such a heavy conversation for Christmas morning."

"Billie, are you comfortable sitting on that tufted vanit^ bench?"

"If it's aU right with you, I think I'll go in on your chaise. I think it's time to put my feet up."

The phone took that moment to peal. The women stared at one another, naked fear on their faces. Sallie was the first to move, and then she ran to her room, Fanny right behind her. Did the War Department, or whoever it was that called with bad news, call in the middle of the night?

"It's nothing, Fanny. I know it's nothing. It's probably a wrong number." Sallie rubbed her hands together nervously before she picked up the phone. She worked her tongue around the dryness in her mouth before she could even manage a strangled, hello. She looked up to see Devin standing in the doorway. "Hello," she said more firmly.

"Mom, it's Ash. Merry Christmas."

"Ash! Oh, Ash, it's so good to hear your voice. Merry Christmas, son. Your father isn't here, he had to go to Boston. His brother died. Fanny's standing right here next to me. I'll put her right on."

Sallie tactfully withdrew to the hallway, where Devin was standing. They both heard Billie say, "I won't listen, I'll turn to the wall, it's too much trouble to get up."

Sallie sighed. One minute she was talking to her son, hearing his voice, and the next minute he was gone. Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away.

"Ash said to tell you he loves you," Fanny said, her voice cool. "I told him to tell you himself, and he said he already did."

"I think we need to rescue Amelia," Sallie said, pretending not to notice how upset Fanny was. "She's either been reduced to a prune or she's asleep in the tub."

Sallie was stunned to see how thin AmeHa was. She handed over a long, warm flannel nightgown and slippers. "Come in by the fire, darling. Khee just brought up your tea. Fanny checked on Rand and he's sleeping soundly, Sally Dearest in his arms. I'm so glad you're here," SaUie said, hugging her.

The little boy tiptoed down the steps, his treasured cat secure in his arms. His eyes grew round as saucers when he spied the ceiling-high Christmas tree, the lights still burning. "Ohhhh."

"What are you doing here?"

"Where's your red suit? Did you get it dirty coming down the chimney?"

Seth stared at the small boy with the stuffed animal in his arms. He frowned. How was it possible this child didn't recognize him, and then he remembered. The boy had been sleeping when Ameha first arrived at Sunbridge, the day before yesterday, and on his orders, had been kept upstairs in the nursery. There had been no contact at all between the two of them.

With the aid of his cane, Seth setded himself in one of the chairs.

"You didn't answer my question, sir?" Rand said.

"What question was that?"

"I asked you if you got your suit dirty coming down the chimney?"

Moss used to ask questions like this. So many years ago. "Fm washing it," Seth growled. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"Because Fm awake. I was afraid you wouldn't find me. Are you magic? Where's your sled and the reindeer? Did you get the biscuit I left for you and the glass of milk?"

"Yes," Seth growled again. "The reindeer are hadng a snack,"

"Oh. Are you going to leave soon? Is it far to the North Pole?"

"Almost as far as Texas. Where's your pap, boy?"

"His airplane got shot down. He died. He's in heaven. I'm going to fly airplanes someday. Just like my dad. Do you know my dad?"

Seth's stomach started to chum. "Don't know your dad. What happened to your mam?"

"A bomb hit her. She covered me. Amelia found me. I love 290 Fern Michaels Amelia. Do you love Amelia, Santa? Can I sit on your lap?" Before Seth could say yes or no, Rand was on his lap snuggling against the big man's chest. Seth's head reared back, but only for a moment. His big, rough, callused hand reached out to stroke the Httle boy's dark head, so much like Moss's head when he was Htde and sat on his lap. His faded blue eyes filled. Imperceptively, he started to rock, crooning softly. Before he knew it, Rand was asleep in his arms. Once or twice his hold on the little boy tightened. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Yesterday was so long ago, wasn't it, Seth?" SaUie said softly. "You're remembering when Moss was little and you held him like this. He's just a httle boy, Seth, with no mother or father. Ameha loves him and he loves her. Are you angry because I brought them here?"

"You got no right to interfere in my family's business."

"I have every right. We're all family. We're all adults with the exception of that little boy. We all have our own minds to make up. You aren't God, Seth. You can't play with people's lives even if you mean well. The sun will be up in a htde while. I'll take him if he's too heavy for you."

"My arm is numb is all. He thinks I'm Santy Glaus. Wanted to know if my red suit got dirty. Asks as many questions as Moss did. Told me his mam covered him when the bomb hit her. Amelia found him."

"Guess you're going to have to rethink a few things, eh, Seth. I think everyone more or less finds themselves doing that at this time of year. Miracles happen, you know. Moss is coming home. I feel it in every bone in my body. You do too, but you're afraid if you say the words out loud it won't happen. If you have faith and trust in God, it will happen. I think I'll make us some coffee. You sit here and think about what you're going to say to this child when he wakes and finds out you aren't Santa."

"Got that figured out already. Us Texans aren't dumb, we just look that way."

Sallie smiled. "I think you are the biggest phony there is. You're all mush inside."

A sound unlike anything Sallie had ever heard, erupted from her brother's mouth. Such anguished torment. The litde boy stirred and muttered, "Don't worry, Santa, Amelia will wash your suit."

"Maybe you better take him, Sallie. I'll go upstairs and shave off this beard. No sense in disappointing the boy."

"Oh, Seth."

"You gonna start to bawl now? I hate squalling women." "No."

Sallie lifted the little boy from Seth's arms and carried him upstairs. The smile stayed on her face for a long time.

14.

Major Ashford Thornton brought his hand up to his forehead and offered his men the snappiest salute of his illustrious career. If his eyes were on the moist side, it wasn't evident to the members of his squadron, whose own eyes were openly wet. "Remember now, we're going to meet one year from today at the Silver Dollar in Las Vegas. That's an order, men! The gig's on me. Now, get the hell out of here, your families are waiting for you."

The date was September 10, 1945, eight days after the Japanese formally surrendered aboard the USS Missouri. V-J Day. Victory over Japan.

He was finally going home. Home to his wife and children. No one single word ever sounded as good as the word home.

Impeccably and impressively dressed in his summer whites, his visored cap at a jaunty angle, Ash walked into the waiting arms of his beautiful young wife. His twin sons dressed in blue-and-white sailor suits smiled shyly as they offered their father the salute they'd been practicing for weeks. When he hoisted his sons, one on each shoulder, and took baby daughter Sunny in his arms, his men let loose with shouts, their closed fists shooting into the air.

It was finally over. He was going home with his family.

"Okay, troops, this is the drill," Ash told his family. "We're heading for the nearest hot dog stand so we can get a weenie with the works and an Orange Julius. Say, aye, aye, sir, and we're on our way."

"Aye, aye, sir," three happy voices rang in the air as baby Sunny gurgled her pleasure.

Simon Thornton, alias Captain Adam Jessup, dressed also in impeccable and impressive navy whites, walked away from the San 292 Fern Michaels Diego Naval Base. He didn't look right or left. No one was waiting for him with open arms.

Five hours later he was knocking on the door of the rm/Adamjes-sup. Simon blinked. Who was this shabby, seedy young man with straggly hair and a three-day stubbly^beard? "Fm Simon Thornton, I have something for you."

"Paid the light bill yesterday. Don't want no magazines. Want a beer?"

"No thanks. Do you mind if I come in?"

"Suit yourself Told you, Fm not buying anything."

"Fm not selling," Simon said as he looked around for a place to sit down. "Do you remember me?"

"You look farmliar. Can't exacdy place you. Fve had a few beers."

"Fm your cousin Jerry's friend. I bought your identity a few years ago. Fm here to give it back."

"Yeah, well, it isn't that easy. Don't think Fm giving you back the money. I spent it a long time ago."

"I don't want the money." Simon opened his duffel and withdrew a manila folder. He held it out to Jessup.

Jessup reared back. "What is it?"

"Your discharge, some commendations, some medals. They belong to you. If you don't mind, Fd like to keep the wings."

"I don't see any wings. What are you talking about?"

Simon sighed. As he explained, he wondered if, when Jessup sobered up, he would remember a thing he said.

Jessup fooled him. His shoulders squared and his eyes lost some of their glassiness. "You were an honest-to-God flying ace? Using my name? Hot damn! Captain, huh? Shouldn't you be paying me for all this? I mean, hell, man, without my name you'd be nothing." His voice turned crafty when he said, "Is it true that a pair of gold wings and dress whites can get you in any woman's bed? Seems to me this should all be worth something."

Simon reached into his duffel for the envelope full of cash, his pay for his years of service minus a few bucks he'd spent on a few weeks of R & R. "You know what, Jessup, you're right." He tossed him the envelope, closed hLs duffel, and stood up. "We're square, buddy."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to salute me?"

Simon laughed as his middle finger shot in the air.

Simon headed for the nearest drugstore, where he placed a call to his friend Jerry. "Yeah, it's me, Jerry. I want you to clean out my bank account and drive my car here. I'm heading for New York. If you want to come along, I could use some company. I'll be at the Howard Johnson's near your cousin's house. I only have ten bucks and some change on me, so don't drag your feet. I'm going to call the bank now, all you'll need is some ID. Your password is Ace. You got that? Listen, if you have any money of your own, you better bring it along."

It was after eight o'clock when Jerry drove Simon's car into the parking lot. The two friends stared at one another for a long minute before Jerry whooped like a v^d Indian, his arms crushing Simon to his chest. "You son of a bitch, you said you were going to write. I made myself sick worrying about you."

"I did write."

"Yeah, one lousy letter. I must have called your mother a thousand times. She cried every single time. The town is having a parade for Ash next week."

"He's home then?"

"Nah, he's in Hawaii with his wife and three kids. The paper interviewed your mother and she was kind of vague. There was a picture of his wife and kids. One of them kind of looks like you when you were litde. Jeez, three kids."

"So, what do you say to me shucking this uniform, putting on some civilian duds, and we take on the town, maybe tie one on and then head out for New York tomorrow? You're coming, aren't you?"

"Quit my job this afternoon, cleaned out my almost-nonexistent bank account, and here I am." He paused, looked hard at Simon. "You gonna tell me why you aren't going home, or is it none of my business?"

"That's pretty funny, Jerry. I fought a war using some other guy's name, and you expect me to go home so the papers can dig into what I did? I know what I did, and that's all that's important. Ash knows. We met up a couple of times. We made our peace. Ash made major. He was one hell of a fighter pilot. He downed the Jap's ace flyer. He's going home ... to take over the management of the Silver Dollar, and if I know him, he's going to build a new casino. Running those bingo and poker parlors along with the Dollar is going to be a full-time job, but I think he's up to it. Time for him to settle down. I, on the other hand, am just now going to start to live!"

"How much living do you think you can do on three thousand bucks? I only have a thousand."

294 Fern Michaels "I'll sell the car if I have to. I have a trust fund I can tap into. I don't want to, but it's nice to know there's a cushion there."

"Welcome home, Simon."

It was the only welcome nineteen-year-old Simon Thornton received. He accepted it because it was his choice to do so. From that day on, everything Simon Thornton did would be by his own choice.