Home for Christmas Read Free

long with a list of ‘There will be no . . .’ that my BlackBerry battery died!”
    A hand slipped into mine, and I smiled at Jacob sittingnext to me. “Well, that just means I’m going to be holding your hand a lot more when we’re out,” he said.
    â€œHmmm.” I tapped my cheek, pretending to consider it. “Okay!”
    We finished our drinks, and my muscles relaxed from the car ride. Or maybe the stress I’d been carrying around about all of us being together. Mom and Dad had picked us all up this morning at Canterwood, and we had dropped our stuff in the living room before needing a caffeine fix. I doubted I’d need any caff, though, when we started at Safe Haven on Monday. I had already spent hours on my iPad, scrolling through the list of adoptable horses and wishing I could adopt one.
    â€œReady to go back to my house for a tour?” I asked. A surge of happiness went through me—there hadn’t been an ounce of weirdness so far between any of us.
    â€œLet’s see your place,” Heather said. She tossed me a quick smile, and it said what she didn’t have to—she was glad to be here. I’d learned just how little Mr. and Mrs. Fox paid attention to their daughter when I’d visited Heather once. I wanted to make this Christmas special for her, too. There was no better place to have a magical Christmas than Union, Connecticut.

3
BIENVENUE À LA MAISON
    Lauren
    â€œYAY!” LEXA CHEERED. “WE’RE HERE!” the other girls added whooping noises.
    Mom parked the SUV in front of the three-car garage, and everyone hopped out onto the driveway.
    â€œThis,” I said, sweeping an arm in the direction of the house, “is my home.”
    The front of our five-bedroom house was a light gray, with dark-gray stones from the bottom to the peak. The attic window was stained glass and one of my favorite parts of the house. The rest of the sides had eggshell-colored siding. The lawn was browned from the cold, but the shrubs along the sidewalk that wound up to the doorway were still green. There were two black lampposts, one on each side of the sidewalk just in front of the two brick stairs up to thefront door. The glass door was etched in gold, and light from inside the house spilled onto the porch.
    â€œIt’s so pretty, Lauren and Mrs. Towers,” Carina said. “I love it!”
    â€œThanks!” I said.
    â€œIt will be even better when Lauren’s dad and I get out the Christmas decorations,” Mom said. She made an apologetic face at me. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We didn’t have time to decorate just yet this year.”
    Disappointment swept through me. I’d envisioned my friends walking into a Christmas wonderland.
    â€œIt’s okay, Mom,” I said. “I know Dad’s been on a book deadline and you’re busy at work.”
    The front door opened and my dad, Gregg, stepped outside. He was actually my stepdad, since my biological father had died just after I’d been born. But Gregg was the only dad I’d ever known, and we were très close. The weirdest thing? Even though Dad and I weren’t blood related, we both had the exact same color eyes—pale blue. It was one of those cool things that I was glad we shared.
    â€œBell!” Dad called, hurrying down the steps and sidewalk. Dad had called me “Bell” or “LaurBell” ever since I could remember. He was in his usual writer clothes—jeans and a sweater, and he’d thrown on a black coat.
    â€œDad, hi!” I grabbed him in a huge hug, and he spun me around.
    â€œHi, girls,” Dad said, putting me down and smiling at my friends.
    â€œHi, Mr. Towers,” everyone said politely.
    â€œPlease, call me Gregg,” Dad said. “That ‘Mr. Towers’ stuff makes me feel old.”
    My friends grinned.
    â€œLet’s get you girls inside,” Mom said after she