âStop looking at me like that.â Charli chopped yet another carrot. âTalk to me. About anything.â
âOkay. How about what I heard from the Georgia Bureau of Investigation today about Secret Santa?â Neil asked.
The knife in Charliâs hand came down at an awkward angle, and Neil could see sheâd almost cut herself. He sprang up to check on her, but she waved him off.
âSorry! Iâm all thumbs tonight,â she joked.
âMore cutting like that, and you wonât have thumbs at all,â he said. But his comeback was reflexive. What heâd said had surprised her. That was clear.
âSo â¦â Three more whacks and the carrot was history. âWhat did they tell you? Chief Hawkins didnât seem to think it would be a high-priority caseâ
How was it he could still want to kiss her when he was convinced she knew more than she was telling him? Or telling the police?
Dear Reader,
As a kid, I never could understand my momâs deep loathing of any Christmas lights that werenât âwhite and twinkling.â After all, to my six-year-old eyes, our neighborâs outlandish display of Christmas décor, complete with a Santa, a sleigh and reindeer on his roof, was perfect. My mother? Bless her heart, sheâd grind her teeth when she drove by.
Eventually, my mom succeeded in converting me to the âwhite and twinklingâ school of Christmas décor. When I married, though, my husband turned out to be a lot like Neil in Secret SantaâChristmas is his time to shine! Every year itâs a loving fuss over whether we keep my white lights or break out a new set of ârealâ (his words) Christmas lights. Still, as Neil and Charli discover, the true meaning of Christmas isnât decorations, but the spirit of giving.
I loved writing Secret Santa ⦠I loved discovering Neilâs wonderful, playful personality and seeing Charli learn to enjoy Christmas, despite some formidable obstacles. As you read their story, I hope you root for Neil and Charli as much as I did.
Iâd love to hear from you. If youâre on Twitter, you can follow me at @cynthiarreese, and why not check out all the Heartwarming authors as we blog? You can find us at www.heartwarmingauthors.blogspot.com.
Merry Christmas!
Cynthia
CYNTHIA REESE Cynthia Reese lives with her husband and their daughter in south Georgia, along with their two dogs, three cats and however many strays show up for morning muster. She has been scribbling since she was knee-high to a grasshopper and reading even before that A former journalist, teacher and college English instructor, she also enjoys cooking, traveling and photography when she gets the chance.
In memory of William, one of my biggest cheerleaders ever. April is surely the cruelest month.
Acknowledgments
This book was a miracle in the making, impossible without my awesome editors Victoria Curran and Laura Barthâthank you, Laura, for all your cheering!
Many doctors helped me with technical and personal insight into the life of a young doctor, including Dr. Lawton Davis, Dr. Misty Poole, Dr. Gary Branch and Dr. Jean Sumner. More technical advice came from Terrance Shulman of The Shulman Center for Compulsive Theft, Spending & Hoarding, as well as Investigator Ron Bivens, who is not at all like the police chief in this story! All errors are mine, and I apologize profusely for any that may be there.
A huge thanks goes to my critique partner Tawna Fenske, to my sister Donna, and to my Twitter cheer squadâJessica Lemmon, Linda Grimes, Jeannie Moon, Jamie DeBree, Susan Adrian, Deb Salonen, and Patty Blountâas well as to my wonderful Heartwarming blog sisters.
Most of all, big hugs to my wonderful, long-suffering husband and The Kiddo. I couldnât have done it without you!
CHAPTER ONE
âYOUâRE NOT ASLEEP, are you?â
Dr. Charli Prescott snapped to attention from the doorjamb sheâd been propped against. ââCourse not,â she muttered to her amused-looking nurse, Lainey Edge. âWhy on earth would I want to sleep? Iâve had the luxurious amount of two hours of sleep for three straight nights. If those new E.R. guys donât get in here soon, though, I will be sleeping standing up.â
Lainey laughed and slapped a stack of charts in Charliâs hand. âGood to know, because thereâs a broken arm from a ladder fall in Bay 2, and youâve still got to sign off on discharge for Food Poisoning in Bay 1. Oh, and your dad says Knife Guy in the trauma room can go home.â
Charli had just caught the name of Broken ArmâNeil Baileyâon his chart when Laineyâs last words caught her. âHey!â she hollered after the departing Lainey. âKnife Guyââ She stopped herself from breaking about a thousand privacy violations and closed the gap between her and Lainey. âI wanted Knife GuyâI mean, Mr. Andersonâadmitted,â she told her. âI signed the admission paperwork. At least overnight. He could have sepsis.â