Free The Holiday Bride by Ginny Baird Page B

you’ll tell?”
    Her shoulders sagged as she hurt for him. She knew the boy
was having a rough time, but she honestly wasn’t here to make things any
tougher. “I’m not saying that it’s mandatory.”
    “Man-da-who?”
    “Nothing’s mandatory, Justin. I’m not forcing you to do
anything, because I know that I can’t. You’re practically a man now. Old enough
to make your own decisions.”
    He eyed her suspiciously. “Well, if you’re not forcing me,
just what are you doing?”
    “Asking you.” She raised her brow. “Pretty please? Your
choice.”
    Just then, William came inside carrying a stack of mail. He
looked from Lucy to his son, and then back again. “Is something going on in
here?”
    Lucy stared at him innocently. “Nothing at all.”
    William turned toward his son. “Justin?”
    “Nothing, Dad. It’s nothing, okay?” He turned and ducked
into the kitchen, as something in William’s stack of mail caught Lucy’s eye.
    There was a picture of some guy on the back of a real estate
brochure.   A face with short dark
hair and big black eyes floated over a fairy-tale scene, a castle with hot pink
turrets. What was it about the banner fluttering from one of the turrets— Let Magic Maker Mitch Find the Castle of
Your Dreams— that called her up short?
    William’s voice hummed from far away as her whole world went
woozy.
    “Bridget? Are you all right?”
    She felt a sharp stab of pain above her left temple. “Oh!
Oh, my head.” Lucy blinked hard, stumbling toward him.
    William caught her in his strong arms and shored her up
against him. “Bridget? What’s wrong?”
    Bridget? Why was
he calling her that? Lucy felt herself spiraling into a dark tunnel, visions
swirling around her: Gus serving up pancakes... Mitch handing her packages...
Waking up on the sofa here... And, huh? Her parents dancing to Billie
Holiday...?
    “I’m... not really me,” she breathed as William embraced
her.
    Sleigh bells sounded as her world went black and something
strong lifted her up and carried her away.

 
    William addressed Dr. Mass, his voice tinged with concern.
“She’s going to be all right, isn’t she, Doc?” Beside them, Bridget was
stretched out on the sofa, covered by a throw blanket.
    “Oh yes, fine,” Dr. Mass said. “It’s not as bad as it looks.
She’s just getting over the shock.”
    “You mean, about who she really is?”
    “Could very well be.”
    “But why would that make her faint?”
    Dr. Mass stroked his snowy beard. “At times, these amnesia
cases involve some sort of internal conflict. When the memories start to
resurface, they’re not always a welcome relief.”
    “You’re saying she’s scared to face the truth about who she
really is?”
    “That all depends on what she has to gain—and
lose—by becoming herself again.”
    William cast his gaze on Bridget, slumbering like a
beautiful princess. Perhaps he’d been reading too many fairy tales to Carmella,
but he couldn’t help but think she looked like she’d stepped right out of one
of those storybooks’ pages. But in the tales he’d read his little girl, it was
always a handsome prince that came along. Not some wayward banker with a
middle-class mortgage and a couple of kids.
    “Dr. Mass,” he said, meeting the older man’s eyes. “Can I
ask you something?”
    “Go right ahead.”
    “Well, I know this sounds crazy. Loony, for sure. Asking you
of all people... But something has happened in this house, something that
defies all... What I mean to say is—” He drew a breath. “Do you believe
in Santa Claus?”
    “Believe in Santa Claus? Who me?” Dr. Mass chuckled and
thumbed his chest. “Why, of course I do!”
    “You what?” William sputtered.
    “William, my boy,” Dr. Mass said, packing his medical bag,
“I’ve known you your whole life. I’ve seen you grow from diapers until now, and
you’ve become a very fine man indeed. But somewhere along the line, you
changed. I’m not sure when. Maybe it