Free Christmas in Whitehorn by Susan Mallery Page A

and the children who are mobile have been told they're welcome to help."
    Mark felt trapped by circumstances. He hadn't been thinking when he'd agreed to this. He wasn't the tree-decorating type. He'd been avoiding polite society since he'd arrived back in Whitehorn and now he felt out of place.
    By contrast, Darcy practically quivered with anticipation. "Isn't this great?" she asked as they made their way to the elevator to take them to the fourth floor. Their tree was close to the playroom.
    As they stepped onto the floor, familiar smells assaulted Mark. He'd spent too long in a hospital, not to mention rehab, after he'd been shot. He remembered bad meals, no sleep and plenty of pain. They weren't good memories. As they passed open doors leading to patients' rooms, he saw small children hooked up to IVs and lying still in bed when they should have been home running and jumping and laughing.
    All those years as a New York City detective and a bunch of sick kids still got to him. Damn. He'd gone soft.
    "Okay, so let's see what ornaments we have," Darcy said when they reached the bare Christmas tree in the corner by the entrance to the playroom. It was tall and the scent of pine helped overcome the smell of illness.
    "We'll sort them by type and color, then come up with a plan."
    He stared at her as she crouched next to the boxes of ornaments. "We need a plan?"
    "Absolutely. We can't just hang things wherever we want."
    "Why not?"
    She didn't even bother answering. Instead she rolled her eyes, as if he were being too dumb for words.
    "I never realized you were such a control freak," he said.
    "I'm not. Well, sometimes. If I can't always control the big things in my life, I tend to micromanage the little things. Decorating for Christmas is one of them. Maybe it's because I've been responsible for doing it on my own since my folks died."
    Darcy emptied the contents of all the boxes. When Mark squatted next to her, she handed him containers of wooden ornaments with instructions for him to sort them by size. She examined their strings of lights, even going so far as to lay them out in the empty playroom to calculate the exact length of each.
    "You go to all this trouble at home?" he asked when she'd returned with the an - nouncement that there were probably enough lights, but they were going to have to be careful to make sure every branch had a decoration.
    "Absolutely. Decorating my tree is an entire weekend affair."
    He started to tease her that he would like to be out of town during that time, but the words got stuck in his throat. He had a feeling that he would enjoy spending that weekend with Darcy. She might even be able to exorcise some of his demons.
    " Whatcha doin'?"
    The soft voice came from behind him. Mark turned to see a small girl standing by the edge of the hall. She wore a worn pink bathrobe and cat slippers. One hand clutched a tattered teddy while the other held on to a kid-size IV stand. Two plastic bags dripped into lines that disappeared up her sleeve.
    "We're decorating the tree," Darcy said with a smile. "I was thinking about putting her on top. What do you think?"
    As Darcy spoke, she held up a white- and-gold angel. The little girl had a scarf over her head. Her eyebrows were gone, as were her eyelashes. But judging from the freckles marching across her pert nose, Mark guessed that she was a redhead.
    The child tilted her head as she studied the angel. "She's pretty," she said.
    "I agree." Darcy nodded. "Okay. We'll put her on top and tomorrow you can tell everyone it was your idea."
    The girl smiled shyly.
    "What's your name?" Darcy asked.
    "
Brittany
."
    "Do you want to help?"
    Brittany
hesitated, then shook her head. "I'm gonna get a second chemo and it makes me throw up. But I'll come see the tree tomorrow."
    Darcy nodded without speaking. Mark saw tears in her eyes.
    Brittany
waved, then turned and headed back toward her room.
    Mark watched her go. "Now I see why you do this."
    Darcy sniffed, then