Holiday Heroes Page 12


“You’re also a very smart woman.” He glanced around at the remaining crowd, his gaze landing on their children waiting not so patiently by two local police officers. “I guess the only question left to ask is whether or not you’re an impulsive woman?”


“Why do you want to know?”


He took her hands in his uninjured one. “Ginger, you’ve been my best friend for most of my adult life, and now you’re my lover, too. I’ve always loved you. Today I learned that I’m also in love with you.” He slid down on one knee. “So how about tonight you become my wife?”


“Tonight?” She blinked fast, in time with the cameras of the few media hounds who’d stuck around to the end already click, click, clicking away. Apparently their moment wasn’t quite as private as she’d hoped.


But oh my, she had the feeling this was one moment she wouldn’t mind having captured on film.


“The priest who came for the dedication ceremony is still around. Our children are all here.” His smile broadened until it lit his eyes brighter than the Christmas stars overhead. “And you’ve never been more beautiful. I can’t think of a more perfect time or setting.” He brought her hands to his mouth for a kiss. “The only thing I need to know is if you’re in love with me, too.”


In love? It was as though her head was spinning from too much warmed gluhwein, her heart overflowing with more emotion than one woman could process. “As you said, I’m a very smart woman. Although actually, I find I’m listening to my heart’s IQ right now and it says, absolutely, totally, I am completely in love with you.”


She flung her arms around his neck and to hell with the cameras. She was seconds away from becoming Ginger Landis Renshaw anyhow.


The marriage might not be official until they could get back to the States, but as of this night, Hank would be her husband.


He pulled back with a smile meant only for her before he stepped away to speak to the crowd, starting with her sons. “Boys, do you mind if I marry your mother here, tonight?”


The four brothers stepped free from the applauding police and clapped him on the back with a yes, some laughter—and a definite welcome. The Renshaw offspring and their spouses followed closely behind with smiles and hugs, and the flailing joy of Alicia’s baby girl. The priest joined the fold, camera lights kicking back into full-blown blinding mode at a goodwill stop that had turned into a media blitz beyond the journalists’ expectations. Definitely a bonus to all who’d braved the cold to stay to the end of this event.


Kyle grinned with that one-sided smile indigenous to all the Landis men. “About damn time. I was starting to wonder if we were going to have to dub you the fourth wise slacker.”


Ginger stood in the middle of her growing family, Hank’s strong—oh so sexy—muscular arm around her waist, and wondered how she’d gotten this lucky. The tiny crèche sat nestled on the stone altar, not officially dedicated, but home all the same and she realized she didn’t have to let go of her past to step forward into the future. Both could be a part of her, blending to make her the woman she wanted to be: wife, mother, grandmother—senator. Lucky lady all the way around.


She and Hank had taken a while to find each other this way, but he was right. The timing was perfect. Stars twinkled overhead as Christmas Eve melded into Christmas Day. Their children gathered around the stone altar where the crèche rested. The priest stood in front, reciting the ceremony in heavily accented English until finally the time came to kiss the bride.


Hank whispered warmly against her lips, “Merry Christmas, my love. You’ll never have to worry about me forgetting our anniversary.”


“Smart man.” Her laughter rang along with local church bells, and then just the bells sang as Hank claimed his kiss.


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