Page 26 of A Texas Christmas Carol

She instinctively leaned into his touch, craving the connection, the closeness.

“But I’ve recently realized that I don’t have to remain the man I was. I can become new. Every morning, I can wake up and strive to be better, to be more of the man God created me to be. I started today, and I’ll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.” He glanced down, his hand sliding from her face to her shoulder, his first sign of uncertainty. “Perhaps after a few months, you’ll come to trust the man I’m becoming. Trust him enough to let him court you. Maybe even wed you.” His pale blue eyes captured hers for a precious second before darting away.

Felicity reached for his face, taking her turn to cup his strong jaw and seek out his eyes. “I adore you, Evan. And I would wed you tomorrow if we didn’t have a dozen Christmas baskets to deliver.”

His eyes widened, and a surprised chuckle escaped him at her teasing.

“My heart belongs to you,” she whispered, all playfulness gone. “It has for quite some time. I don’t need months to trust you, Evan. I see the change in you—the joy in you—and I know the source. You have my trust. My love. From this day forward.”

In an instant his arms were around her, clutching her to his chest. “Felicity,” he murmured in a near-reverent tone a heartbeat before his lips pressed against hers.

His kiss was tender, warm, and so giving. Never had she felt so cherished.

She rose up on tiptoe to return his caress, exulting in the bond it wove between them. In the promise it spoke to her heart. A promise of partnership. Of love. And of countless mornings to wake by his side, both of them striving together to become the best versions of themselves they could possibly be.

When the kiss ended, a new smile lit his face, one she’d not seen before, but one she knew would certainly become a favorite. It hinted at pleasure, at love, and of a sweet eagerness that immediately set her pulse to fluttering.

“Will you help me bury my past?” he asked.

She nodded, honored to be asked to join him on such a personal and private rite of passage.

Taking her hand, he turned back to the hole he had dug earlier, and together they knelt beside it. He reached into his pocket and took out a key, one worn smooth from much handling.

“I’ve carried this key with me from my bellboy days, promising myself that someday I’d run my own hotel. That with enough hard work, I’d find success, and that with this reminder of the past, I’d never be foolish enough to lose that success like my father had. It helped me endure the cruelty, survive the cold nights and empty bellies, and it spurred me to achieve more and more. Somewhere along the way, though, it became a symbol of self-sufficiency. A reminder that I needed no one. That I could achieve whatever I desired on my own. What started as a talisman of hope became a prideful lie.”

He rubbed his thumb along the length of the key thoughtfully, gently. Felicity brought his other hand to her lips and kissed it, offering him her support, her understanding.

Evan looked at her, their gazes holding for several moments before he turned back and placed the key in the hole and covered it with dirt.

“Old things are passed away,” he quoted softly, “behold, all things are become new.”

Felicity’s eyes misted as she squeezed his hand and fervently thanked God for his provision. Just as the Holy Babe had entered the world to transform the lives of many, that same Divine One entered hearts today to transform lives one at a time. Thanks be unto God for his unspeakable gift.

Epilogue

CHRISTMAS EVE PASSED IN A JOYFUL BLUR for Evan. Never had he enjoyed a day more. Distributing baskets and seeing happiness on children’s faces, gratitude on those of the parents, and not a few odd looks in his direction that kept him chuckling the whole day long.

The greatest gift was having Felicity at his side. They sang carols as they drove the rickety buckboard from farmhouse to ranch along their route. They laughed over Mrs. Bell summoning the doctor the day before and Felicity’s encounter with the irascible Lester and his habit of calling Evan by the wrong name.

They saved the Littles’ farm for last.

Nerves danced in Evan’s gut as he brought the wagon to a halt in the yard. Darlene Little and her brood poured out of the house, cries of “Merry Christmas” ringing in the air. The boys swarmed Felicity as soon as Evan handed her down, pestering her with questions about what was in the basket she held. She laughed and playfully swung it away from them, telling them they’d have to be patient.

“Come inside out of the cold,” Darlene invited. “I’ve got warm cider on the stove.”

Evan took the basket from Felicity and followed her into the house, admiring the way she seemed instantly at home.

“Mr. Beazer!”

Evan smiled as he caught sight of the child he most wanted to see. “Timothy! You’re looking well.”

The boy pushed away from the table, where he and a trio of familiar curmudgeons were huddled around a checkerboard. Grabbing his crutches, he hobbled over to the door.

Prez lifted a hand to Evan. Tom gave a small nod. But Lester kept his head down, studying the board. Then he clapped his hands, picked up his black checker, and jumped it over all the red ones. He cackled. “I win!”

Timothy rolled his eyes, then leaned close to Evan. “He cheats.”

“I heard that, whippersnapper.”