A Semi-Precious Christmas Read Free

third floor. Thank God for Uncle Marty. I’d been only ten and Amee five when he’d taken us in and given us a home.
    I shifted in my chair as Chris Lane strode through the revolving doors of the ER. No TV crew this time. Just him.
    I pulled out a tissue, and dabbed my eyes with a clean corner.
    He hurried over and sat on the plastic chair next to me. “How’s your uncle? I heard they found him unconscious.”
    “We don’t know anything yet. This is my sister, Amee.”
    I avoided Amee’s probing gaze while the two said hello. She was relentless in her endeavors to marry me off again.
    I’d had my one shot at true love, and now Mark was singing with the angels on high. After four years, my grief was gradually lessening. I didn’t need another husband. I glanced around for my purse, but I must have left it at the store.
    Chris placed a warm, calming hand on my shoulder. “The police are finished searching for evidence, for now. I made sure they locked up and sent the TV crew on their way. We certainly don’t want a fine jewelry store sitting open to the general public.”
    Amee’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘police’ and ‘evidence’? Did something happen at Keaton’s? You said Uncle Marty was in an accident. And what happened to your face?” She unwound the scarf, studied me intently, reached out a fingertip to trace my emerging bruise.
    I filled her in, softening the part where the police had found Uncle Marty lying on the asphalt next to his car. Amee, being on the fragile side, probably couldn’t handle everything right now.
    Then, what Chris had said hit me. “What time is it?”
    Amee pointed to the clock on the wall over the triage nurse. “Five past eleven.”
    Had it been only an hour since I’d had a handgun jammed against my head?
    “Todd and Miralee were coming in at twelve so Uncle Marty could take the afternoon off. He was going Christmas shopping before the snow hit.” I resisted the urge to chew my nails. Two hours ago, I’d been coiled up on my couch finishing my second cup of coffee, one warm cat in my lap, the other sleeping in her bed next to the heat duct.
    Uncle Marty had called, excited about his half-day off. Too cold and windy for him to hit a few balls out at the golf course, he’d made other plans. He’d sounded so animated, too.
    We’d had a hard frost that morning, and there was a possibility of “precipitation.” That could mean anything from a foggy drizzle to a blizzard. In Maryland, December could behave like autumn or winter.
    With Christmas only a couple of weeks away, we’d been swamped with business, and we were gearing up for a super-busy weekend. Although the robbers hadn’t made off with everything, there were precious few high-dollar pieces left to sell. Who would take care of cleaning up, buying new display cases, ordering replacement jewelry, calling the insurance company? With Uncle Marty in the hospital, that would be me. There was no one else to run the show. My head spun.
    Amee pushed a hand through her hair.
    I searched my pocket for the scrunchie that always resided there just in case Amee needed it, and handed it to her.
    She pulled her wavy hair back into a ponytail and then rubbed her hand over my knee.
    I bumped her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll call Miralee and Todd and explain the situation.”
    She shouldered her purse and stood. “I’ll do it. I’m going to get some coffee anyway. Either of you want anything?”
    If Amee was scheming to leave me alone with the handsome man, she had to know the last thing on my mind right now was romance. Thankfully, she wasn’t smirking—always a sure sign she was plotting my future. She had no idea how to sustain a poker face.
    “Coffee would be nice.” I shivered. I’d left my coat at the shop. Probably with my purse. I fingered the scarf Amee had looped around my neck, burying my hands in the soft fabric.
    “Extra cream?” Amee was born with the gift of compassion.
    “Yes,