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changed his mind.
    He nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “May I have a word?”
    “Certainly, Mr. Hanson. I can see you have something on your mind.”
    He watched as Carol took down a mug from the cupboard. It amazed him how comfortable she appeared to be in his home and with his children. Was she like this everywhere she went?
    “Coffee or tea?” she asked him.
    “Coffee,” he said, and then settled himself at the kitchen table. His shoulder ached but he’d had a surprisingly good night’s sleep. Which wasn’t such a good thing as it turned out. If he’d been tossing and turning last night maybe he’d have heard Carol creating havoc and could have put a stop to her decorating. At least it would have saved her the trouble of packing it all up today.
    “What did you do to my house last night?” He was forced to add a begrudging ‘thank you’ as she slid a mug of coffee in front of him.
    “The children love the decorations,” Carol said.
    He followed her gaze as she watched the children through the window. Hillary and Patrick had abandoned their snowman to start a good natured snowball fight.
    “They are precious children.”
    “Thank you,” Ben was forced to say again. As upset about the mess in the other room as he was, he couldn’t be churlish enough to ignore her compliment. They were wonderful children. All the more reason to protect them from this holiday nonsense before it led to disappointment on a massive scale.
    He picked up his coffee mug but froze when it was two inches from his lips. He’d never seen this mug before in his life. It was white and he moved it back so he could read what the red letters spelled out.
     
    Be nice! Or you’ll end up on Santa’s naughty list.
     
    He slammed the mug down, not caring that coffee sloshed onto the table. “Miss Kane, this has gone too far. Where are my coffee mugs?”
    “On the top shelf of the pantry until after Christmas,” she answered, apparently not at all rattled by his frustration. “I have others if you’d prefer.” She rose and reached for his mug. “Let me get you a top-off. I have a Rudolph mug or you can have-”
    “Sit down,” he insisted. “Just what is the matter with you?”
    She didn’t sit. She stood, hands on her hips, the first crack in her calm composure beginning to show. “I could well ask you the same thing.”
    He stood and stared down at her. Her blue eyes snapped and a faint redness stained her cheeks. He pushed away the thought that she looked downright charming when she was angry. And she was angry. He could see it.
    “This Christmas nonsense has to stop. Now.”
    “It isn’t nonsense.” She lifted her chin, defiance replacing her anger. “You’re trying so hard to ruin our Christmas and I can’t figure out why. It’s you who should cease and desist with the scrooge routine.”
    Our Christmas? His head started to spin. Had she even been here a full twenty-four hours? Suddenly it was ‘our’ Christmas? That was going too far.
    “I won’t have my children subjected to lie after lie about someone who doesn’t exist.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “Santa Claus does exist. You are the one spreading venomous lies with that book you’re writing.”
    He froze. How did she know about his book?
    “How did you-” but the rest of his question was cut off by the sound of the front door slamming open.
    “Daddy, Miss Kane, come quickly,” Hillary shouted. “It’s Patrick. He needs help.”
    With Carol only a step behind him, Ben followed his daughter out the front door and down the front steps. Hillary pointed up to the roof where a frightened looking Patrick stood, a string of lights in hand.
    “What happened,” Ben asked Hillary. “Is he hurt?”
    “He’s stuck.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “He’s scared. He can’t get down.”
    “You’re alright, son,” Ben called up, hoping his voice would reassure his son. “I’ll have you down in a jiffy.” Just how he had no idea. He’d