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don’t consider it dumping, just, well, sort of a parting of the ways.”
    “You’ve lost your mind.”
    “No. I think I’ve finally found it.” He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll take you home.”
    She jerked away from him. “I’ll get home on my own. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be perfectly fine.”
    He walked to the doorway, a heaviness pressing against his chest. Ten years of his life down the drain. Could he start over? Did he want to start over? He turned back to look at Ashley. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. And then he heard her parting words.
    “Damn you, Mac. I’ll get even. Just you wait.”
     
     

Chapter 3

    Mac smelled the pine the moment he stepped through the door. The fresh-baked apple pie, heavily spiced with cinnamon, assailed his senses and made him think of his childhood, and Christmas mornings long ago forgotten.
    Merry, still awake as she had promised, sat in her rocker and looked up from her knitting, peering over the top of her glasses. A broad smile appeared on her rosy-cheeked face. “My, my, my. You’re home much earlier than I expected.”
    “It’s late, Merry. You shouldn’t have stayed up.”
    “I said I would.”
    He pulled a straight-backed chair close to Merry, straddled the seat, and folded his arms atop its back. He watched her nimble fingers skillfully maneuvering needles and yarn into a lacy pattern. Never before had he watched a woman knit, and it amazed him that she could look at him and talk and not miss a stitch.
    “Are you ready to talk?” she asked.
    “If you want to discuss my personal life, I think I’d rather pass. It’s in shambles at the moment.”
    “Then now’s the time to talk, young man.” She pushed her ball of red knitting yarn and her needles into the carpetbag next to her chair, then offered Mac a cookie from the plate on the table beside her.
    “No, thanks,” he said, but found himself plucking one off the plate. He inspected the cookie, turning it around and around in his fingers. It looked like an angel coated in white icing with silver sprinkles on the tips of the wings.
    “Bit early for Christmas, isn’t it?”
    “Oh, my gracious, no. I prefer to think of it as Christmas all year long. Puts me in a most wonderful mood.”
    “I told my secretary that I didn’t like Christmas. Are you trying to change my mind?”
    “Oh, my, my, my. I plan to change much more than your mind, Mr. O’Brien.”
    “Such as?”
    “Why, your life, of course.”
    Mac shook his head and laughed. “I like you, Merry.”
    “I like you, too,” she said with a wink. “But I believe we have something important to discuss.”
    He stole another cookie and waited for Merry to begin.
    “I’ve come to the conclusion since I got here this afternoon that you need a wife. Makes a man so much happier. Someday you’ll have to ask my Nicky about that. Bless my soul, I don’t know what he’d do without me.”
    “I just ended a ten-year relationship. The last thing I need is a wife. Besides, I’m not the marrying kind.”
    “Nonsense, young man. Every man needs a wife. You just haven’t found the right woman.”
    “And how do you propose I find one?”
    “Oh, it’s very simple.”
    “If it’s so simple, how come I’m forty-nine years old and still unmarried? Believe me, I’ve tried just about everything.”
    “Not everything. Seems to me you’ve been looking for a wife from the meager pickings at those parties you attend. Now, I’m not saying there aren’t quality women in your crowd, but I just don’t think any of them are quite right for you.”
    “Do you know what’s right for me?”
    “I know, but I’m sure somewhere in your mind is a vision of what you want. Why don’t you tell me?”
    While Mac was thinking, he looked around the room at the personal touches Merry had added. Doilies on the arms and backs of chairs, gilded picture frames filled with colorful photos of children and babies. The cozy room seemed to