Chapter Eight
Wherever Amarylliswent, whatever she was doing, Owen’s gaze found her like she was the only person in the room. He felt like a stalker, standing by the tree, watching her interact with the guests. She had a caring generosity and genuine interest in the conversations and the people she talked to. She was born to socialize. She had Ophelia’s talent for dealing with people.
That was why she belonged in a small town where people loved and cared for each other. The city, while bustling with people, sometimes lacked the connections made in smaller locales. He’d lived in cities and didn’t miss anything about them. The perks of city life were enough for some people. He had friends who would never leave the city. But the country, and small-town life, was all he’d ever wanted.
During his short term in the military, he’d served in embassies in enormous cities and spent time in encampments in and near small towns. Without exception, smaller centers felt warmer and more connected. Perhaps it was only due to his small-town roots. Whatever the reason, he was content in Snowy Hollow and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.
Light laughter spilled across the room, drawing his thoughts back to Amaryllis. She was beautiful. Not classically beautiful. But with those lovely azure eyes and golden hair, she was more than pretty. When she smiled, she looked like an angel.He had to stop staring.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Ozitta asked from behind him.
“Who?”
“You’re not fooling me, young man. You cannot take your eyes off her. You were meant for each other.” Laugh lines in the rich, dark-brown skin around her eyes only heightened her beauty.
“I beg your pardon?” He gaped at her.
“I come from a long line of matchmakers. My kin has the ability to foresee matches and help people fall in love. I don’t practice matchmaking like my sister and mother, but I know love when I see it.”
“Um. Whatdoyou do?” he blurted the first question to come to mind. Anything to change the subject. He stooped to straighten some candle holders on the golden oak end table.
“Me? Before I retired, I was a lawyer.”
His gaze drifted back to Amaryllis.
“I was the head of my firm’s pro bono division. I chose the cases we worked on. And I buried the bodies in the forest.” Her voice faded as he stared at Amaryllis.
“That’s nice.”
“Owen!” The snap in her voice jerked his attention back to Ozitta.
“What?” He shook his head to clear away thoughts of Amaryllis.
“I said I buried bodies in the forest, and you said, ‘That’s nice.’ Were you listening to me at all? Or were you totally lost in Rill?” She chuckled and gave him a chiding slap on the arm.
“I was listening. Ya. Listening.”Not even close to listening. Amaryllis had his entire attention.
“Go, talk to her. Stop pining away over here. Chase her down. Woo her. Love waits for no man. If you want her, let her know.”
“She’s right you know.” Carrie ambled up to them, a tray of drinks in her hands. The scents of cloves, cinnamon, and chocolate distracted him briefly. “I’ve known you for a couple years now. I’ve never seen you like this. Go, convince her she belongs here.”
“You don’t even know me,” he disagreed, snatching a drink off the poinsettia patterned serving dish as Elvis croonedI’ll be Home for Christmas.
