That Holiday Feeling (Virgin River #8)(53)

Though a part of Savannah wanted to protest the degree of excess, she couldn’t bring herself to spoil the moment.

“Your turn now, Mom,” Hannah said, bringing her a comparatively small box that seemed to weigh a ton.

“What on earth?” Savannah said when she tried to lift it. She began carefully removing the wrapping paper until Hannah impatiently ripped the rest away, then tugged at the tape on the box. Inside, nestled in packing chips and tissue paper, was a tool kit, painted a ladylike pink but filled with every conceivable practical tool she could ever possibly need.

Her gaze shot to Trace. How had he guessed that she would prefer a gift like this to something totally impractical?

“It’s perfect,” she said, her gaze locked with his.

“Santa must know you pretty well,” he agreed.

“Mom, there’s a huge box here for you, too,” Hannah said, shoving it across the floor.

This time she discovered a floor polisher, precisely the kind she would need if she was to keep the inn’s floors gleaming. For most women, an appliance on Christmas morning would have been cause for weeping, but Savannah’s heart swelled with gratitude.

“Wait, Mom. There’s something little tucked inside with a note,” Hannah said, her expression puzzled as she handed it to Savannah.

At the sight of the jewelry-size package, Savannah’s breath caught in her throat. Her gaze shot to Trace, but he looked as puzzled as Hannah had. Then she caught sight of the handwriting on the envelope. It was Aunt Mae’s.

Tears stung Savannah’s eyes as she opened the note.

My darling girl,

I hope you are happily settled in by now and that you will love your new home as much as I have over the years. I’ve done what I could to be sure you find joy here.

Here’s something else I hope will bring you happiness. It belonged to your great-great-grandmother.

With all my love to you and Hannah. I wish I could be there with you this morning, but please know that wherever I am, I will always be looking out for you.

Mae

Savannah sighed and blinked back tears. Finding Mae’s present tucked amid all the others made her question everything. She’d been so sure that Trace had sent them, but now? Recalling Santa’s resemblance to Nate made her wonder if Mae hadn’t been behind this whole magical morning.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Hannah asked, leaning against her and regarding the box with evident fascination.

Savannah slipped off the wrapping paper, then lifted the lid of the velvet box. Inside, on a delicate gold chain, was an antique gold cross. The workmanship was exquisite. The gold seemed to glow with a soft light of its own. She could remember Mae wearing this cross every day of her life. She had always said it symbolized faith itself—so fragile yet enduring.

She opened the delicate clasp, slipped on the necklace, then fastened it. The gold felt warm against her skin, as if it still held some of Aunt Mae’s body heat. Once more, her eyes turned misty. She felt Trace take her hand and give it a squeeze.

“Merry Christmas,” he said quietly.

“Wait!” Hannah said. “There’s another box. It’s for you, Trace.”

Once more, he looked completely disconcerted. Hannah gave him the present. He handled it gingerly, studying the large, flat box with suspicion.

“What does it say on the tag?” Savannah asked, curious herself.

“Just Trace,” he said. “No other name.”

“Must be from Santa, then,” she teased.

He slipped open the paper, then pulled out the box and lifted the lid. The grin that broke over his face was like that of a boy who’d just unexpectedly received his heart’s desire.

“What is it?” Savannah asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.

“It’s the biggest, mushiest card I could make,” Hannah said, grinning. “And Mrs. Jones took me to get it framed so Trace could hang it on his office wall.”

Trace stared at her, looking completely mystified. “But I lost the bet.”

“I know,” Hannah said delightedly. “But I could tell you really, really wanted the card, so I made it anyway.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas!”

To Savannah’s shock, there was a distinct sheen of tears in Trace’s eyes as he hugged her daughter.

“It’s the very best present I ever received,” he told her with such sincerity that Hannah’s whole face lit up.

If this didn’t stop, Savannah was going to spend Christmas morning bawling like a baby. She was about to head for the kitchen to start on breakfast, when Trace grabbed her hand and halted her.

“Wait. I think there’s one more present for you, Savannah,” he said, pointing Hannah toward a flat box beside the chair where he’d been sitting earlier. “Bring that one to your mom.”

The box weighed next to nothing, but when Savannah tore off the paper and looked inside, her mouth dropped open. “Stock certificates?” she asked, turning to Trace. “In Franklin Toys? I can’t possibly accept such a gift from you.”

“It’s not from me,” he said firmly. “Not directly, anyway. These were Mae’s shares of the company. She gave me power of attorney to vote them for her during the last weeks of her illness, but she told me I’d know what to do with the shares after her death.” He looked straight into Savannah’s eyes. “I think she would want you to have them.”