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It was wonderful. It was magick.
Chapter 1
There were a dozen houses on Holland Court, and each household was represented at the annual Christmas party, which was, as usual, held on the afternoon of the second Sunday in December. Ruby had been tempted to skip the affair, to pretend to be sick or busy or antisocial, but weaseling out of anything Hester Livingston was in charge of was usually more trouble than it was worth.
Besides, she'd drawn a name, as had everyone else on the cul-de-sac. This year she was Secret Santa to Zane Benedict, the studly and standoffish professor who lived across the street from the house Aunt Mildred had left to Ruby in her will. Mildred had died more than six months ago, and the grief was still very sharp. When Ruby had buried her aunt, she'd buried all that remained of her blood kin, and the holidays only made her more aware of that fact.
"Did you lose a bet?"
Ruby glanced up from her seat in a chair against the wall to see that the professor himself stood before her, the box of cookies she'd made grasped in his hands. Large hands, she noted, with long, well-shaped fingers. She'd seen him from a distance more than a time or two, but never so close. She couldn't help but take a moment to study the details. His black hair was too long, curling just a little on his neck, but she suspected the style was a result of neglect, not design. His brown eyes were amazingly dark and deep. He needed a shave, this late in the day, and his clothes were the norm, for him. Jeans. Boots. A dark gray long-sleeved T-shirt. How tall was he, anyway? Six-three, she'd guess, but then she was sitting and he was standing.
Benedict hadn't been here for last year's Christmas party. He'd moved into his house shortly afterward—in February, if she remembered correctly. He'd skipped the early-summer picnic and made only a brief appearance at Aunt Mildred's funeral. She was actually surprised that he was here today. He didn't seem to be the neighborhood-party type. Mildred had loved these neighborhood affairs.
"What?" Why would he ask if she'd lost a bet? She blinked twice, fast, and pushed away the threatening tears that had crept up on her.
"The sweater." He gestured with the box.
Ruby glanced down at the holiday sweater Aunt Mildred had given her last year. Yes, it was gaudy and busy and too bright, but it was also festive, and she was trying very hard to feel festive. "It's Snoopy," she said. "You don't like Snoopy?"
"It's not becoming," the professor said. "The garment is too big for you and the design is garish."
"You came over here to tell me you don't like my sweater?"
Like her, Benedict was quiet in a crowd. He hadn't exactly been the life of the party thus far. Ruby wondered what Hester had threatened to get him here.
"No, not really." He offered the box of cookies to her. "I don't eat white sugar or white flour."
Ruby had thought nothing could take her mind off of her aunt today. This was Mildred's neighborhood, Mildred's friends, and it was impossible to be here and not be reminded that Mildred was no longer among the living. And yet somehow this odd man had turned Ruby's morose thoughts around. "I'm very sorry for you," she said, perhaps more coolly than was necessary.
"I'm not allergic," he responded, missing her subtle sarcasm. "I simply thought you'd like to give these to someone who will actually eat them. It would be a waste to throw them away. I'm sure those who eat this sort of thing will find them enjoyable."
Talk about ungracious! "The gifts are from Secret Santas," she said. "What makes you think I gave you those cookies?"
He tilted the box so that she could see the name of her business there, ruby's sweet shop was emblazoned on white in bright, crisp crimson. "You're not particularly good at being deceptive, I would deduce."
Someone else could've bought them at her shop, but the professor was right, of course. "In that box there is an assortment of my best-selling cookies. Macadamia white chocolate chip, oatmeal cranberry, peanut buttet chocolate chip, and orange-walnut. I understand eating healthy, I really do, but every man should indulge on occasion. Would it kill you to eat a cookie now and then?"
"Probably not," he responded seriously. "But refined sugars . . ."
"I don't want to hear it." Ruby snatched the offered box from his hands.
Instead of walking away from her, as he should have, the professor sat next to Ruby and asked, "What did you get?"
He couldn't have simply walked away once he'd returned her gift. No, he had to stick ar
ound and make awkward small talk. Ruby placed the rejected box of cookies on the chair beside her and reached under her chair to grab the gift bag she'd stashed there. She held it out so he could see inside.
"Candles," he said brightly as he peeked into the bag. "Very practicable to have on hand in case the power goes out."
A loose strand of black hair fell across one eye. Ruby studied his face while he was peering at her candles. The professor was handsome but not cute; his features were more interesting than pretty. His face had the nice, clean lines of a healthy man who doesn't eat white sugar or white flour. His lips were just full enough, and he had smart eyes that seemed to notice everything. She had noticed it all before, but from a distance. Up close, there was a surprising power about him. An intensity she should have expected but had not.
"Yes, I suppose they are practicable."
He looked around the room—Hester's basement, where the Christmas party was almost always held—as if he were searching for someone. There was an almost instant disconnect. Was he one of those absentminded professors who sometimes forgot to eat and missed doctors' appointments and birthdays? It sure looked that way.
The other neighborhood bachelor headed her way, and Ruby sighed. Todd made the professor look downright normal, and that wasn't an easy task. His long gray hair was pulled into a ponytail, as usual. Today's tie-dyed T-shirt was done in Christmas colors. Red, white, and green swirls were stretched over a protruding belly. The shirt had seen better days. And the professor thought Snoopy was bad!
"Hey, Ruby! I found this under the tree." Todd waggled a small, square box in her direction. "It has your name on it."
