Free Someday Soon by Debbie Macomber Page B

white, and his eyes filled with hate. Sick laughter broke the eerie silence. “Yes, we know.”
     
    The infamous Christmas tree was decorated. Cain stood back to examine their efforts, then shook his head. It was the sorriest-looking tree he’d ever seen.
    “What?” Linette asked defensively. They’d spent the better part of the afternoon stringing popcorn and cranberries. Patty and John’s two children, Mark and Philip, had constructed long paper chains out of strips of colored paper, chattering excitedly and generally eating him out of house and home.
    The two boys had returned to their place, and Cainand Linette were left alone once more. But Cain couldn’t stop studying the Christmas tree. No matter which way he looked at it, it was by far the ugliest thing he’d ever seen.
    “The star’s crooked,” he announced, dragging a dining room chair across the living room carpet. Standing on the cushioned seat, he adjusted the aluminum star he’d cut from cardboard and covered with foil.
    “There?” he asked, attempting to judge if he’d done any good. He glanced down at Linette. “Is it straight now?”
    “It’s exactly right.” Linette sagged onto the chair and stretched out her legs. Her arms dangled over the sides. “It’s the most gorgeous tree I’ve ever seen,” she said with a sigh of appreciation.
    Briefly Cain wondered if she was looking at the same tree he was.
    “It would have been better if I’d remembered to buy ornaments.” Frankly, it hadn’t occurred to him how he intended to decorate a Christmas tree. Never having put up one before, he hadn’t given the matter a second thought.
    Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he recalled a Christmas when his mother had been alive. Cain couldn’t have been any more than three or four. He didn’t remember Santa Claus or opening gifts, or any of the traditional things usually associated with the holiday. What he did recall was the sound of his mother singing to him and the lights of the Christmas tree. Like a miser, he’d clung to that memory, one of a few that he had of his mother.
    “I like the tree just the way it is,” Linette insisted.
    A loud knock sounded against the door, and a moment later Patty stuck her head in from the kitchen. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
    “No,” Cain assured her, and leaped down from the chair.
    “Wow.” A grin brightened Patty’s pretty blue eyes. “That’s some tree.” Doing her best to disguise a smile, she held out a plate of decorated gingerbread men. “I figured you two deserved this for keeping my boys occupied.”
    Cain helped himself to a cookie. Frankly, he’d enjoyed himself with those two hooligans. The boys had been a little in awe of him and eager to please. Cain had met the two Stamp children only once, a year or so earlier, and they’d stayed close to their mother’s skirts. He’d never thought much about kids. He wasn’t sure he knew how to act around them.
    Linette hadn’t seemed to have a problem, so he’d followed her example. He talked to them as he would anyone, no matter what their age. Before he quite knew how it happened, he was sitting on the rug with them, stringing cranberries with a fat sewing needle.
    “You’ve got a fine pair of boys,” Cain said.
    “Thank you.” Patty smiled.
    “How about some coffee?” Linette offered.
    Patty nodded. “That sounds great.”
    Linette poured coffee and carried the mugs into the living room on a tray. Cain took it from her and set it on the table.
    “Actually…” Patty began, rubbing her palms together slowly, and Cain noticed the way her eyes refused to meet his. “I’ve come to ask a favor.”
    “Sure,” Linette said automatically.
    Cain knew better than to agree to anything without knowing what it was.
    All three sat around the dining room table. Patty’s small hands cupped the coffee mug. “Every year on Christmas Eve, John dresses up in a Santa costume and delivers presents to the boys.”
    Cain