Free Our First Christmas by Lisa Jackson Page B

husband had just found out they were expecting. His brother-in-law worked in the high-tech industry and Sherry stayed home with the boys.
    Marisa shifted in her seat. “I don’t want to interfere with their holidays.”
    â€œSherry loves guests. She invited me to dinner tonight.”
    â€œShe invited you. Not me.”
    â€œThe more the merrier for her.”
    â€œDon’t the holidays overwhelm her?”
    He sensed if he stopped the car, she’d bolt. “It’ll be fine.”
    â€œI don’t like this.”
    â€œDon’t be a baby.”
    She glared at him. “I’m not.”
    â€œYou’re whining.”
    â€œAm not!”
    Smiling, he realized her headache couldn’t be so bad if she was willing to argue. He turned down the gravel drive and wound into the Hill Country until they rounded a corner.
    An explosion of colorful lights lining the drive greeted them. Lights dangled from the trees and wound around shrubs and a collection of wagon wheels. More lights outlined the front porch as well as the steep roofline of the house.
    Marisa shook her head. “I think my stepmother has some serious competition.”
    â€œNo one can out-Christmas Sherry. No one.”

Chapter 9
    Monday, December 22, 6 P.M.
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    Marisa blinked as she stared at the lights. Whereas her stepmother chose white lights, this home was decorated in bursts of bright color. Each twinkling light winked an invitation, beckoning her inside. Despite her headache, her spirit lightened.
    She got out of the car, and with Lucas at her side, climbed the three steps to the front porch. Lucas rang the bell and seconds later the thunder of feet echoed in the house. The door snapped open to three boys, all with dark hair and gray eyes much like their uncle’s. The boys—the youngest looked to be about six, the oldest three or four years older—were wearing cowboy hats and vests.
    Their faces split into grins when they saw Lucas and they dove into his arms. He gave them a bear hug and lifted all of them up off the floor. They laughed and kicked and tried to wrestle free, but Lucas held tight until he set all three on the floor.
    She couldn’t imagine her brothers jumping and yelling like this. They were more subdued. That was one of the reasons she’d taken her stepmother’s suggestion and bought the trucks.
    â€œThat’s Billy,” Lucas said, pointing to the boy on the right. “The other wranglers are Nate and Zeke. Where’s your mom?”
    â€œIn the kitchen.” They turned, each yelling “Mom” as they scrambled around a corner.
    The house smelled of cookies and bread and cinnamon, and drew Marisa in like a welcoming embrace. The large, open room had a vaulted ceiling made of roughly hewn beams. The furniture was large, overstuffed, and looked as if it had been well used. She imagined the boys plopping on the sofa, eating a snack while they watched television or diving into a pillow fight with the cushions. The walls were filled with family photos. Most featured the boys, but she saw a few that featured a young Lucas. She resisted the urge to study each more closely.
    Lucas pulled off his hat and tossed it on a table. “Sherry!”
    â€œLucas!” A woman appeared. Tall, she wore an apron over well-worn jeans and a T-shirt. Her raven hair was pulled up in a loose topknot. Wisps framed an oval face. Faint crow’s-feet feathered out from her eyes, a sign she smiled often.
    She hugged Lucas. “Boy, I didn’t think we were going to see you this year.”
    â€œI wasn’t sure myself.” He pulled away and angled his body toward Marisa. “I’d like you to meet Marisa Thompson. She’s helping me with a case.”
    Sherry wiped a floured hand on her apron and extended it. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you. Lucas told me he was on the trail of an expert to help him.”
    â€œIt’s great to meet