Free 1225 Christmas Tree Lane by Debbie Macomber Page A

down his bag as he stepped inside and extended his hand. “Mr. Cox, thank you for having me.” His handshake was firm and solid.
    â€œMy pleasure.”
    Rosie came forward and hugged Anson. “Merry Christmas!”
    â€œYou’re bedding down with me,” Eddie said, leading Anson down the hallway to his room. “You can have the top bunk.”
    While Eddie showed Anson where he’d be sleeping, Allison followed her mother into the kitchen. “The traffic was a nightmare,” she said. “I can’t believe this many people are out on the roads on Christmas Eve.”
    â€œEveryone has places to go,” Zach said, tagging behind his wife and daughter. “Hey, it smells good in here. What’s cooking?”
    â€œHonestly, Zach, I’ve baked ham every Christmas Eve since we were married. You’d think after twenty-four years you’d remember that.”
    â€œRight. Ham.” Now that he thought about it, they did seem to have ham every year. Rosie used the bonefor a black bean soup she served on New Year’s Day, which was some Southern tradition she’d read about and adopted. It was supposed to guarantee good luck for the upcoming year. He doubted anyone believed that, but he liked black bean soup and so did Rosie.
    By New Year’s, the kids would be heading back to school, and he and Rosie would be alone again. Zach had to admit he missed his children. Without them, the house seemed too quiet.
    â€œWhat can I do?” Allison asked, reaching for an apron.
    Zach smiled at his daughter’s eagerness to help. She was an intelligent, considerate young woman, and one day she’d make a fine attorney. In her first year of law school, Allison had gotten top grades. Zach was proud of her.
    â€œDinner won’t be ready for a while, but if you want to make the salad you can.”
    â€œSure.” She went over to the refrigerator, collecting the lettuce, tomatoes and other vegetables.
    Normally, Zach would’ve sat down in front of the television at this point. He and Rosie both enjoyed football and had spent many a lazy Sunday afternoon watching the Seattle Seahawks. At first she hadn’t understood much about football, but she was a fast learner. Before long, she knew the players’ names and positions and understood the game. Spending Sunday afternoons with his wife was fun.
    Anson joined him at the breakfast bar, pulling out a stool and sitting down.
    â€œSo how does it feel to be back home?” Zach asked him. Anson wore jeans and an army sweatshirt, and his hair was shorn. Very different from his high school days when his hair straggled to his shoulders and he wore a long black raincoat. The difference between then and now was striking.
    â€œI talked to my mother,” Anson said. He looked down as if to hide his reaction.
    â€œYou’re welcome to invite her for dinner, if you’d like,” Rosie offered.
    Zach wasn’t keen to spend Christmas Eve with Cherry Butler, but he certainly wouldn’t refuse to entertain her.
    â€œThanks, Mrs. Cox, but Mom has other plans. She’s got a new…friend.” Anson’s tongue seemed to trip over the word. “She’s sure it’s love this time and wants to be with him.”
    â€œYou’ll have a chance to see her while you’re on leave,” Rosie said reassuringly.
    â€œI probably will.”
    Zach noticed that Anson didn’t sound all that confident.
    Rosie started into the dining room and paused in the doorway—underneath the mistletoe. Zach couldn’t have planned this better had he tried. He’d hung it there earlier and now, taking advantage of the opportunity, he slipped out of his chair and hurried toward his wife.
    Rosie gave him an odd look as if she didn’t understand what he was doing.
    â€œYou’re standing under the mistletoe,” he told her.
    Surprised, Rosie immediately looked up.
    Taking her in his