“If I have to listen to one more Christmas carol, I swear I’m going to scream,” Libby threatened as she dropped several cinnamon sticks into the heating cider. “Why can’t we make a switch that turns them on only when a customer walks through the door?”

Kate straightened from putting a log in the woodstove and dusted off her hands, wincing as a rendition of “Jingle Bells” sung by chipmunks filled the Christmas tree shop. “We could accidentally drop the CD player into the pond,” she suggested. “Or maybe I could get Ian just to shoot it.”

Libby fixed the problem herself by simply walking around the counter, shutting off the player, and removing the disc. She opened the back door and threw the CD like a Frisbee as far as she could.

She nearly hit Robbie, who stopped so abruptly he slid to a halt as the flat, spinning missile disappeared into the snow beside him. He turned his surprised pewter eyes back on her and smiled and shook his head.

“Gram Ellen always did strange things just before Christmas, too,” he said, walking past her into the shop.

“Papa said my pay envelope is here. Can I have it? Leysa and Rose will be here soon, and I need my money.”

“What for?” Kate asked, opening the cash register and lifting out the brown envelope.

She waved it in the air.

“Why would a young fellow need money at this time of year?”

“It’s Christmas,” he said, smiling up at her. “And Leysa’s taking me shopping in Bangor with her and Rose.”

“Again?” Libby asked, turning Robbie, unbuttoning his coat, and buttoning it back up in sequence. “This is the third time this month.”

“I wasn’t shopping the other two times. I was babysitting.”

“Rose?” Libby asked. “You were watching an infant?”

“Not by myself,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Leysa just needs me to keep Rose entertained in the stores. I get to push her stroller, and we play while her mama shops.”

“And I bet you’re a great help,” Kate said, straightening his cap and tucking the envelope into his pocket. “What are you shopping for today?”

Apparently having endured all the female fussing he could, Robbie started inching his way to the door. “It’s Christmas,” he repeated, lifting his chin. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Can you tell me when you expect to be home?” Libby asked. “Remember, we’re having our party tonight.”

“Leysa promised we’d be back in plenty of time. She said she wouldn’t miss it for anything.” He stepped out into the snow but stopped and looked back, scowling at Libby. “Don’t ya peek in my workshop while I’m gone,” he warned. “Or Santa won’t be generous with ya tomorrow morning.”

Libby held up her hand in a scout’s salute. “I promise not to peek. Robbie,” she said, lowering her voice and stepping out the door with him so Kate wouldn’t hear, “will you please tell me what I’ve been helping you make for Michael? I know it’s some sort of display case I’ve been lining with an old piece of wool plaid, but I don’t know what it’s going to display. And the plaque I painted is for the case, I’m guessing, but what doesTàirneanaiche mean?”

The smile he gave her was filled with secrecy and no small amount of satisfaction. “You’

ll find out tomorrow morning,” he said. He leaned in and whispered, “Isn’t Christmas fun? All the secrets and surprises? Everything builds up until ya think you’re gonna burst, and then it gets revealed all at once. You’re gonna love the surprise Papa’s planning for ya, Libby.” His smile turned up several notches. “I know I am. Tomorrow morning, I’m going to be the happiest boy in the world. And tomorrow night, you’re gonna be the happiest woman, ’cause your dream’s gonna come true.”

“And what dream would that be?” she asked, raising one brow as she returned his contagious smile. “How do you even know what I dream about?”

“Mary told me,” he said succinctly. “She knows all kinds of stuff like that.”

“Mary told you what I dream about?” Libby asked in alarm.

Robbie patted her shoulder and rolled his eyes again. “She can’t see into your head or nothing,” he assured her. “She just knows what’s good for people.” His smile returned.

“And she say’s Papa’s gift is exactly what both of ya need.”

He turned at the sound of a truck pulling into the driveway. “There’s Leysa and Rose. I gotta go.” He turned back to Libby, threw himself into her arms, and hugged her tightly.

“I’ll see ya tonight. Make sure there’s plenty of cheesecake. I really love cheesecake,” he said, squeezing her tightly and then letting go, running to the waiting truck.

Michael emerged from his workshop and caught Robbie just as he was opening the truck door. He handed the boy a folded piece of paper, gave him a hug good-bye, and settled him in the backseat, snapping the seat belt closed. He spoke a few minutes to Leysa, tickled Rose’s chin, and then softly shut the door and watched as they drove away.

Libby saw Michael turn and cross his arms over his chest. And he just stood there, contemplating her in silence from across the empty yard.

Libby forced herself not to fidget. Lord, but she missed making love to him. It had been four long weeks, with even longer nights. More than the Christmas carols, his stubborn patience was driving her crazy.

She knew what he was doing. She knew he was waiting for her to come to him and talk about what had happened that night at the Brewers’.

But being near him every day, even without the intimacy, was better than not having him in her life at all. And that’s exactly what would happen if he ever learned the full scope of her secret.

“I noticed ya sitting on the snowmobile the other day,” he said, still standing across the yard, his eyes focused intently on her. “Would ya like to go for a ride, lass?”

“Right now?” she asked, trying to decide if he was being sincere or merely calculating his chances of getting her alone, far away from any distractions. “But what about the shop?”

“It’s Christmas Eve and won’t be so busy today. Most people have already put up their trees. Kate and Ian can look after things.”

She did want to go for a ride, but she really, really didn’t want to be alone with Michael.

She’d either attack his beautiful body or break down completely and blurt out all her worries.

“I have to help get ready for tonight’s party.”

He uncrossed his arms and set his hands on his hips.

“We won’t be gone long,” he said, his coaxing voice sending chills down her spine. “I’ll have ya back in two hours.” He turned and headed to the machine shed. “Get your coat and mittens,” he instructed over his shoulder, apparently decided they were going. “Ya can wear Robbie’s helmet.”

Libby stood rooted in indecision, rubbing her hands on her thighs. And then she ran into the shop, told Kate where she was going, promised to be back in time to help out with the party, and stormed out through the front door as she slipped into her jacket.

More than her life, she was putting her heart in Michael’s hands, but this was one ride she could no longer avoid. They were settling things between them this morning.

And Libby figured she had a fifty-fifty chance of coming off the mountain with a soul mate or walking back alone with nothing but misery for company.

Michael started the engine of the powerful snowmobile and let it idle to warm up while he picked up Libby’s helmet and watched her come running from the shop.

She didn’t look like a person thrilled with the prospect of riding a snowmobile for the first time. No, she looked like a woman rushing headlong to a hanging, and Michael knew it was her own neck she was feeling the noose tighten around.

His heart ached for her. And for himself. He, too, felt as if this trip might be the death of him, because if Libby couldn’t handle what he was about to tell her, his heart probably would break clean in half this time.