On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket / The Snow Bride

Then they’d argued about their mothers and the ongoing feud between Sarah and Mary. They’d soon made up, however, realizing that what really mattered was their love. Because they were both eighteen and legally entitled to marry without parental consent, they’d decided to elope. It’d been Thom’s suggestion. According to him, it was the only way they could get married, since the parents on both sides would oppose their wishes and try to put obstacles in their path. But once they were married, he said, they could bring their families together.

Noelle felt mortified now to remember how much she’d trusted Thom. But their whole “engagement” had turned out to be a ploy to humiliate and embarrass her. It seemed Thom was his mother’s son, after all.

She’d been proud of her love for Thom, and before she left to meet him that fateful evening, she’d boldly announced her intentions to her family. Her stomach twisted at the memory. Her parents were shocked as well as appalled; she and Thom had kept their secret well. Her mother had burst into tears, her father had shouted and her two younger sisters had wailed in protest. Undeterred, Noelle had marched out the door, suitcase in hand, to meet the man she loved. The man she’d defied her family to marry. Except that he didn’t show up.

At first she’d assumed it was a misunderstanding—that she’d mistaken the agreed-upon time. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she’d phoned his house and asked to speak to him, only to learn that Thom had gone bowling.

He’d gone bowling? Apparently some friends from school had phoned and off he’d gone, leaving her to wait in doubt and misery. The parking lot at the bowling alley confirmed his father’s words. There was Thom’s car—and inside the Bowlerama was Thom, carousing with his friends. Noelle had peered through the window and seen the waitress sitting on his lap and the other guys gathered around, joking and teasing. Before she went home, Noelle had placed a nasty note on his windshield, in which she described him as a scum-of-the-earth bastard. Their supposed elopement, their so-called love had all been a fraud, a cruel joke. She figured it was revenge what for her mother had done, losing Thom’s grandmother’s precious tea service. Not losing it, actually. She’d borrowed it to display at an open house for another real estate agent—and someone had taken it. That was how the feud started and it had escalated steadily after that.

To make matters worse, she’d had to return home in humiliation and admit that Thom had stood her up. Like the heroine of an old-fashioned melodrama, she’d been jilted, abandoned and forsaken.

For days she’d moped around the house, weeping and miserable. Thom hadn’t phoned or contacted her again. It was difficult to believe he could be so heartless, but she had all the evidence she needed. She hadn’t seen or talked to him since. For ten years she’d avoided returning to the scene of her shame.

The grinding sound of the conveyor belt gearing up broke Noelle from her reverie. Luggage started to roll out from the black hole behind the rubber curtain. Thom stepped forward, in a hurry to claim his suitcase and leave, or so it seemed. Noelle was no less eager to escape. She’d rather wait in the damp cold outside the terminal than stand five feet across from Thomas Sutton.

The very attractive Thomas Sutton. Even better-looking than he’d been ten years ago. Life just wasn’t fair.

“I would’ve thought your wife would be here to pick you up,” she said without looking at him. She shouldn’t have spoken at all, but suddenly she had to know.

“Is that your unsubtle way of asking if I’m married?”

She ground her teeth. “Stood up any other girls in the last ten years?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t do it, Noelle.”

“You’re the one who shouldn’t have done it.”

The man from the back of the plane waltzed past Noelle and reached for his suitcase. “Why don’t you two just kiss and make up,” he suggested, winking at Thom.

“I don’t think so,” Noelle said, sending Thom a contemptuous glare. She was astonished to see his anger, as though he had something to be angry about. She was the injured party here.

“On that I’ll agree with you,” Thom said. He caught hold of a suitcase and yanked it off the belt with enough force to topple a second suitcase. Without another word, he turned and walked out the door.

No sooner had he disappeared than the glass doors opened and in walked Noelle’s parents.

Noelle’s youngest sister held a special place in her heart. Carley Sue was an unexpected surprise, born when Noelle was fifteen and Kristen twelve. She’d only been three when Noelle left for college. Nevertheless, all three sisters remained close. Or as close as email, phone calls and the occasional visit to Dallas allowed.

Sitting on Noelle’s bed, Carley rested her chin on one hand as Noelle unpacked her suitcase. “You don’t mind that I have your old room, do you?” she asked anxiously.

“Heavens, no. It’s only right that you do.”

Some of the worry disappeared from Carley’s eyes. “Are you really going to be home for two whole weeks?”

“I am.” Noelle had tentatively planned a discounted cruise with a couple of friends. Instead, she was vacationing with her parents, planning her sister’s wedding and trying not to think about Thom Sutton.

“You’re going to the Christmas dance, aren’t you?”

“Not if I can get out of it.” Her mother was the one who insisted on these social outings, but Noelle would live the rest of her life content if she never attended another dance. They reminded her to much of those long-ago evenings with Thom… .

“Mom says you’re going.”

Noelle sat down on the end of the bed and sighed. “I’ll tell her I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Don’t do that,” Carley advised. “She’ll buy you a pink dress. Mom loves pink. Not just any old pink, either, but something that looks exactly like Pepto-Bismol. She actually wanted Kristen to choose pink for her wedding colors.” She grimaced. Reaching down for her feet, Carley curled her fingers over her bare toes and nodded vigorously. “You’d better come to the dance.”

This was one of the reasons Noelle found excuse after excuse to stay away from Rose. Admittedly it wasn’t the primary reason—Thom Sutton and his mother were responsible for that. But as much as she loved her family, she dreaded being dragged from one social event to the next. She could see her mother putting her on display—in Pepto-Bismol pink, according to Carley. If that wasn’t bad enough, Sarah had an embarrassing tendency to speak as though Noelle wasn’t in the room, bragging outrageously over every little accomplishment.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies tomorrow?” Noelle asked her sister.

Carley’s eyes brightened. “Sure! I was hoping we’d get to do things together.”

The doorbell chimed and Carley rolled onto her stomach. “That’s Kristen. She’s coming over without Jonathan tonight.”

“You like Jonathan?” Noelle asked.

“Yeah.” Carley grinned happily. “He danced with me once and no one asked him to or anything.”

This was encouraging. Maybe he’d dance with her, too.

“Noelle!” Kristen called from the far end of the hallway. She burst into the room, full of energy and spirit. Instantly Noelle was wrapped in a tight embrace. “I can’t believe you’re here—oh sis, it’s so good to see you.”

Noelle hugged her back. She missed the chats they used to have; discussions over the phone just weren’t the same as hugs and smiles. “Guess who I ran into on the plane?” Noelle had been dying to talk about the chance encounter with Thom.

Some of the excitement faded from Kristen’s eyes. “Don’t tell me. Thom Sutton?”

Noelle nodded.

“Who’s Thom Sutton?” Carley asked, glancing from one sister to the other.

“A guy I once dated.”

“Were you lovers?”

“Carley!”

“Just curious.” She shrugged as if this was information she was somehow entitled to.

“Where?” Kristen demanded.

“He was on the same flight as me.”

“He still lives here, you know. He’s some kind of executive for a mail-order company that’s really taken off in the last few years. Apparently he does a lot of traveling.”

“How’d you know that?” They’d always avoided the topic of Thom Sutton in their telephone and email communications.

“Jon told me about him. I think Thom might be one of his clients.”

“Oh.” Not only was Thom Sutton gorgeous, he was successful, too. “I suppose he’s engaged to someone stunningly beautiful.” That was to be expected.