Free A Christmas Rose: A Dusk Gate Chronicles Novella (Book 4 1/2) by Breeana Puttroff Page A

about it, so she tries not to be, but…”
    “But it has to be hard on her. That’s not something small, the way she’s pretending it is.” Thomas said.
    “No, but try convincing her of that. I don’t know what to do to help her.”
    “I have an idea.”
     
    *
     
    Owen was sitting curled in his favorite armchair when she entered the room. He wasn’t reading, like he usually was, he was just sitting and staring at the tree, but he turned when he heard her come in.
    “Isn’t it pretty, Quinn?”
    “It’s beautiful, Owen.”
    The tree itself was different every year. The first weekend in December, her mom and Jeff would load all of them into the car, and they would drive out into the middle of the forest somewhere and start looking for their tree. It often took hours of trudging through the snow until they found the “perfect” one. They stayed warm, though, bundled in their winter coats, sipping her mother’s creamy hot chocolate from a giant thermos.
    There was always more hot chocolate when they got home, too, and warm chocolate-chip cookies to eat after a dinner of piping-hot baked potato soup and fresh rolls.
    The day would wear all of them out too much to do anything except set the tree in its stand, water it, and then snuggle on the couch in front of the fireplace, watching the first Christmas movies of the season.
    The next night was when the decorations would come out. Tubs and tubs of them, hauled up from the basement.
    Yes, the tree was different, but the ornaments were the same, with the small exceptions of the new ones they added each year, one for each member of the family.
    Under the tree was the miniature Christmas train Jeff had brought with them when he’d joined the family. Annie and Owen could never get enough of watching it circle the track, listening to its whistle. That’s what Owen had been looking at when she came into the room.
    Owen stood now, coming over to Quinn and rubbing her belly. “I haven’t found the right ornament yet, but I put up a stocking for the baby – and one for William, too.” He pointed over to the fireplace, and sure enough, there were two new stockings, next to the five that had always hung there.
    She looked down, startled. She’d forgotten. Slowly, she realized she was dreaming. “I wish you really knew about the baby, Owen.”
    He looked up at her, blinking, keeping his hand right over the spot where the baby moved and pushed against her. “What makes you think I don’t, Quinn?”
    “This is only a dream, Owen. It’s not real.”
    Nuzzling into her, setting his ear against her belly, he sighed happily. “Yes, it’s a dream. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
    She ruffled his soft hair with her fingers. It certainly felt real, silky and smooth, smelling just like she remembered it. “I’d like to think that it is.”
    “I’m real, Quinn. Our family is real. Love is real. Christmas is real. Just because you can no longer see it when you’re awake, doesn’t mean it went away.”
    She looked over at the Christmas tree again. “We don’t even have Christmas in Deusterros, Owen. The baby can’t have a stocking or an ornament.”
    Owen frowned. “Aren’t you the queen?”
    She blinked. “Yes.”
    “I think maybe when a kingdom gets a new queen, it should get some new traditions to go along with her.”
    “It’s not the same there, Owen. Christmas wouldn’t mean the same thing.”
    “Yes it would. It might not look exactly the same, Quinn. Maybe there would be parts of it you don’t have there, or new parts there that we don’t have here, but it would still be the same. It would still be love. It would still be Christmas.”
    “How do you always see things so clearly?”
    He shrugged. “I see you. I love you, Quinn.”
    “I love you too, Owen.” She held him tight in her arms until he started fading away, until she could no longer feel him anywhere except in her heart.
     
    *
     
    “Quinn! Wake up, love.”
    She had to