Free A Mummy for Christmas by Clare Revell Page A

as he clenched them.
    God, show me what to do now, because I have no idea. Everything is happening at once. She wanted a mother and it seems you’re providing one, but does that mean I might lose her if her Christmas wish is to come true?

8
    Carly sat in the car, tears pouring down her cheeks. Huge sobs wracked her body. The nativity set lay on her lap. She’d never expected to see it again and for it to turn up here of all places? Her tears turned to anger.
    Her mother had to be behind this, too. She had to be. Carly pulled out her phone and dialed the number. It was time to deal with this once and for all. She got the answerphone of what sounded like a nursing home. Narrowing her eyes, she left a short sharp message. “This is Carly Jefferson. I’m trying to get hold of my mother, Rose Jefferson. Could you have her call me on this number, please?”
    A tap on the window made her jump. She opened it and turned to find Stan standing there.
    “Are you OK?”
    “Not really.” She rubbed her sleeve over her eyes. “Look at me, no, actually, don’t look at me. I’m a right mess.”
    His finger caught a stray tear. “Do you want to come back inside, talk for a bit?”
    “I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
    “You mean the almost kiss?”
    She shifted in her seat as his fingers lingered, sending her pulse sky rocketing. He wasn’t making this easy. “For one thing. The nativity set being another.”
    “Don’t you trust me?”
    “It’s myself I don’t trust, not you. See, being around you my head goes skip and my heart takes over and …” She broke off. “Sorry. I’m not thinking straight.”
    “We need to talk,” he said gently. He opened the car door. “Come on. I promise not to make a move on you.”
    “OK.” She picked up her bag and followed him inside the house. She perched on the edge of the couch.
    Stan sat beside her, his hand tantalizingly close, but not touching. “Want me to start?”
    She shook her head. “Seeing the nativity set again just threw me. I bet it was my mother who gave it away. Along with everything else when she gave away my baby. She was told I wouldn’t ever wake; that I was going to die as a result of the accident. The baby was fostered at the end of September. When I woke, she told me the baby died at birth. It was only six months later she told me the truth.”
    She held Stan’s gaze, but somehow he didn’t seem surprised. He looked at his hands for a moment, then back up. “Our papers were signed eight years ago on December twentieth. Julie told me the nativity set came with the baby, from her birth mother. The surviving relatives wanted us to have it. But, to be honest, seeing the two of you together this evening, I’d already wondered if you, if Haley-Jo was, if she might be…”
    “My daughter,” she whispered as his voice broke.
    Could it be true? Had this strange set of circumstances, a work assignment and a child’s request to Father Christmas, finally led her to her daughter?
    “She looks so much like you.” He paused. “What do we do now?”
    “What do you mean what do we do? Do you want me to have a DNA test to prove she’s mine or something?”
    Stan sucked in a deep breath.
    Did she really want to go down that path herself? Would it be better just to drop things? She wasn’t sure. But did either of them really have a choice in the matter?
    Finally he looked up. “Do you want custody? You didn’t sign her over, so is the adoption even legal?”
    “I don’t know. I do know I want to be part of her life.” Shock and awe filled her. But more than anything she was lost, as if she were drowning in a sea of her wildest dreams.
    His hands shook on his lap. “I never imagined this scenario. Not in my wildest dreams of how we’d eventually tell her. The adoption agency told us both her parents were dead. They confirmed it again this afternoon when I asked them. After we’d spoken and you said your daughter had been adopted without