Wishing on a Star

by sea of imaginaton

LPS O/S, semi AU - Peyton never believed in happily ever afters, fairy-tales and princesses; she just hadn't been that girl growing up. And yet, luck, fate and destiny had all conspired together to bring her Lucas.

Author's Note – Happy New Year guys. So this is a late Christmas one shot. I had it half ready the week before Christmas and then life got hectic so I couldn't get it finished and up in time. But I didn't want to have it sitting on my computer so I thought I'd still post it. It's pretty much fluffy, family orientated and fairytale (with a little dash of drama ha); I hope you enjoy it. Kate x

---

Wishing on a Star

It was Christmas Eve in Tree Hill. The snow fell and coated the grounds and the trees in a glittering, white blanket. Peyton Scott stared outside of her living room window, watching the thick flakes pelt down from the dark, night skies. Sawyer rested crossed legged beside her, as mother and daughter sat in front of a roaring fire under their twinkling red and gold Christmas tree. With her childhood streets white and glistening like a winter wonderland, and the smells of cinnamon and nutmeg lingering from the kitchen, it seemed like the perfect night. All that was missing was her husband.

Peyton took a measured sip of sweet, warming cocoa and watched the flakes glisten again the glass. She thought of Lucas, still in New York and trying to get a flight home.

She missed him; they hadn't really been apart since the birth of their little girl. Peyton had become a stay at home mother. She'd never seen herself as the type to settle down; she'd always thought she'd carry on with work, but once she'd held her tiny daughter in her arms for the first time that had been it. She hadn't been able to tear herself away from the precious, wrinkled bundle. She'd entrusted Red Room Records into the hands of others and hadn't really thought twice about it.

Lucas had continued on as a part time coach for the Tree Hill Ravens to keep the money coming in. Adjusting to life with a baby had been both challenging and the simplest thing in the world. They'd fallen into an easy, daily routine; they were the perfect team. And with the support of friends and family, it had been some of the best and happiest years of her life.

With Sawyer now in her first year of school, Peyton had begun to spend more time at the studio. And Lucas's writing career had flourished. The years of sleepless nights and her husband being hunched over his laptop in the nursery had certainly paid off. The struggle and hope for success and recognition was but a memory. The story of a spirited little girl and her loyal dragon had been inspired by Sawyer, and had given Lucas a signed contract for a series of children's books. She and Sawyer would normally come along on his book tours but they hadn't wanted Sawyer to miss out on too much school.

And then six months ago Peyton had discovered she was pregnant for a second time.

They hadn't planned on another baby. After the heart ache and the troubled times of Sawyer's very early journey into the world, they had counted their blessings. They were more than content with their small, happy family and had taken all the right precautions. The pregnancy had just been one of those things, unexpected and thankfully wonderful. They'd been beyond worried that the nine months would be as uncertain and dangerous as her first. They'd been to doctors and specialists not wanting a repeat in history, and Peyton had hoped and prayed that everything would be fine this time around. Fortunately she had been given a clean bill of health, and a tiny baby girl growing safely inside her.

Lucas hadn't wanted to go to New York just before Christmas. He'd been reluctant to leave her. She'd, of course, insisted that he go, they'd made a pact to strive for all their dreams as a family. She would have never allowed him to miss his tour, no matter how much she may have wanted and needed him during those weeks.

He'd be home soon enough, she told herself while she set the thick mug back onto the coffee table. She'd be driving to the airport and holding him in her arms in just a matter of hours.

"Tape," Sawyer requested, stirring her mother from her thoughts. She stared down intently at the package in her small hands.

"Here we go," Peyton passed her the final strip of cello-tape. She couldn't help but smile as she caught sight of Sawyer's little pink tongue sticking out from the corner of her lips. Her neck was tilted downwards and the tiny, tip of her nose was barely visible under her thick mass of blonde ringlets. She tucked them behind her ear with a huff; she wore a look of concentration as she folded the glittery gift-wrap down and taped it over the miniature box. She was so like her father, determined and simply adorable.

It was a gift for her father, a first addition of the Velveteen Rabbit. Sawyer had picked it out herself on a shopping trip to Charlotte. She and her father shared a collected love for dusty old book stores it seemed. And despite Peyton's offers to wrap the object, her stubborn daughter had insisted that she do it herself.

Sawyer secured the final corner with the clear sticky tape. "Finished," she called out in a proud voice, though her eyes and finger tips still lingered over the perfectly neat package. She was a perfectionist, just like her daddy.

"Good job. You want to put it under the tree?" Peyton asked.

Sawyer gave a nod of her messy curls and shuffled over to the tree. She set the present delicately on top of all the other gifts. "Daddy can open this one first."

"Yes he can." Peyton only nodded at her daughter's statement. Her husband was in another state; she tried to smile but her gaze wondered to the muted news headlines reeling a warning of more bad weather to come over-night and possible airport closures.

Sawyer settled onto the couch and placed a hand lightly on top of her mother's stomach in hopes of feeling her baby sister kicking. She was so excited for the new baby; she'd read up on all the books and manuals. She was fascinated by her sister's growing of miniature eye lashes and finger nails.

"You feel that?" Peyton guided her daughter's small hand to the baby's flutter of movements. "That's your little sister."

"Wow, Izzy's kicking," Sawyer uttered in an awestruck breath. She curved her palm to touch the concealed fist. "Does it hurt?" she asked as an after-thought, wearing a look of concern in her blue eyes. They were so like her father's.

"No honey, it doesn't." She pressed a kiss to Sawyer's feather-soft curls. She closed her sleep lids shut for a moment and inhaled the smell of fresh cotton and lotion. It was comforting to her that her daughter still possessed that 'little girl' smell that she loved so much.

"What time are we going to get daddy from the airport?" Sawyer asked, idly playing with the wide-knit pattern on her mother's sweater.

Peyton opened her mouth but was relieved from answering the question by the shrill ringing of her cell.

"That's your daddy," she said pulling herself up from the couch. She momentarily winced at her stiff, swollen legs. "Go brush your teeth, ready for bed."

"Yes momma," Sawyer squealed obediently and ran off down the hall.

"Merry Christmas baby," Peyton said over the phone while Sawyer disappeared into the bathroom.

"Hey, Merry Christmas." Lucas's voice sounded. She could almost imagine the smell of his cologne and the touch of his hand when she closed her eyes and listened to his husky voice. "Have you and my girls had a good day?"

Peyton trailed her fingers over her now curving stomach. "It's been good; we baked cookies with Brooke and wrapped the last gifts."

"That's great honey."

Peyton felt a frown etch its way across her smile. His happy tone chimed in from miles away, but she knew her boy well enough to know something was up. "Luke what's wrong?"

"They've cancelled all flights out of New York," Lucas informed her regretfully. "The snow's just too heavy. They're telling everyone to book into a hotel for the night."

Peyton held the sigh from her voice. The storms were rife across the states, and weather reports said that New York was badly hit.

"I'm sorry," her husband's faint reply sounded from the other end of the line.

"It's alright sweetheart." She wanted him home but it wasn't his fault. The weathers had taken hold of the entire continent and there was nothing she or Lucas could do about it. And the last thing she wanted was for anything to happen to Lucas for the sake of one day, she'd almost lost him too many times before. She was so lucky and fortunate to still have him there with her; and to have their beautiful daughters. "Just stay warm and safe, and we'll see you when you can come home."

"I really miss you," Lucas whispered. Peyton squeezed her eyelids shut for a brief moment to hold off the onset of tears. She missed her man more than ever. His being away had been so much harder than she thought. The thought of not having her family together on Christmas day was even worse.

"I love you Peyt." He used her pet name and she could imagine his smiling face from miles away.

"I love you too. Peyton said softly and fought off her heated tears. "Call me when you check into the hotel."

"I will babe. Give Sawyer a big kiss goodnight from me. And remember the milk and cookies for Santa."

"I will," Peyton felt the smile tracing across her lips then. Their smart daughter was still young and innocent enough to believe in Santa Claus; she'd ensure her parents always left a plate of home-made chocolate chip cookies out on the mantel. Peyton and her boyish husband would sneak down into the lounge each Christmas once Sawyer was sound asleep. They'd sit together next to the glittering tree, eating the cookies secretly and giggling. Peyton would feel like a kid again, settled in her husband's arms and more excited for Christmas than she had been in years.

"You just be safe okay," Peyton murmured over the phone.

"I'll call you later. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye." Peyton hung up the phone and brushed a hand through her tousled hair. She wanted to just blame her sudden rush of sadness on her wretched pregnancy hormones. She could see the silver sliver of her daughter's night-light illuminating in the hall. She marched to the room, and tried to bury her disappointment of Lucas not being able to come home. She still wanted Sawyer to have the best Christmas she could give her.

"Sawyer Brooke Scott," Peyton called as she entered. "Are you ready for bed?"

"Yes momma," Sawyer bounded over to her bed. She'd already changed into her satin pyjamas Aunt Brooke had given her as an early gift. She'd also put away her pens and crayons. Normally she would leave drawings scattered about her room, but she'd kept her space tidy waiting for her dad to come home. She wore a look of anticipation on her little, pink face. She pulled back her comforter and settled down on her mattress.

Peyton moved to sit on the bed beside her. "Have you brushed your teeth?"

"Twice," Sawyer reported with a wide and pearly grin.

"Good girl," Peyton said as the smell of peppermint tingled at her nostrils. She tucked her daughter into a bed of pink and silver stars before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Where's daddy?" Sawyer asked, her deep emerald eyes locking with her mother's gaze.

"Your daddy's at the airport."

"Here in Tree Hill?" She spoke in an excited voice. She threw off the covers and was already trying to sit up in her bed. "Can we go get him?"

"In New York baby," Peyton told her regretfully.

"Will he be home to see me open my presents?" her precious little girl asked. Sawyer was wily and top of her class; she knew immediately that her father wouldn't be home for Christmas.

"He's going to try honey," Peyton whispered as she brushed those stubborn, wispy curls from her daughter's forehead. "The snow's really bad in New York and daddy can't get his plane."

"But he promised." Sawyer pulled the comforter up to her chin, the way she always did when she was upset.

"I know he did baby." Peyton moved to hug her baby girl; she couldn't stand to see tears in those wide, blue eyes. "Daddy just needs to wait until it's safe to travel," Peyton explained gently as Sawyer buried her head in her mother's sweater. "You remember how hard it was to see out of the car windows this morning? How momma could barely see the road because of the storm?"

Sawyer only nodded. Her mother had had to pull over until the worst of the blizzard had passed.

"Well it's even worse up in the sky. It isn't safe right now. But when it is daddy can come home."

"When will that be?"

"I don't know baby but he'll be here as soon as he can be."

"I want daddy to be safe." Sawyer proclaimed before she moved to cuddle in closer. "I just miss him is all."

"Me too baby." Peyton stroked Sawyer's hair. "But he'll be back home soon. And we're still going to have a nice Christmas with grandma and Lily. And we're going to see Aunt Brooke and Auntie Haley, Uncle Nathan and Jamie. It's still going to be a great day, okay?" Peyton moved the tip of her nose to touch against her little pink one, the way she always did when she made a promise to her.

"Okay," Sawyer agreed with a giggle. "But can I still talk to daddy on Skype?"

Peyton grinned and nodded her answer; seeing Lucas and hearing his voice always made her feel better. Their video chats had helped every night while her emotions and hormones made her miss him even more.

"But who's going to remember the milk and cookies for Santa?"

"Mommy will."

That seemed to satisfy her adorable little girl and she gave her a toothy grin.

"Read me a story," Sawyer requested.

"Okay," Peyton moved to the small bookcase and scanned her eyes over the books. Lucas would usually read the bed time stories. 'Dadda' did the voices better, her baby girl always said. The collection was growing, Brooke continued to spoil her little niece and Lucas just couldn't say no to his daughter's demands. "Which one would you like to hear? Doctor Seuss? The Wizard of Oz?" She reeled off her daughter's favourites but Sawyer only shook her head.

"Daddy tells me a special one," she informed her mother.

"Which one?"

Sawyer's little hand reached to pull open her bedside drawer and she retrieved what she wanted. Peyton shuffled back over to the bed, lowering herself down gently with her hand cupped over her belly. Her brow knitted at the centre and Sawyer placed the typed pages into her mother's hand.

"Sweetheart how did you get these?" Peyton started down at the greying sheets.

"Daddy reads to me every Christmas Eve while you're downstairs wrapping our gifts."

"I don't know baby." Peyton was curious but knew how private Lucas could be about his writing.

"Please momma, it's my favourite," she cooed sweetly. "Daddy said he wrote it when you were pregnant with me."

Peyton looked up from the secret story. Lucas had written it so long ago but she'd never been given the chance to read it. She couldn't help but smile; she remembered her endless days of morning sickness and bed rest. Lucas had been suffering from a bout of writer's block. That was until a visit to the doctor's and the first grainy picture of their baby. Lucas had returned with a new found inspiration as he clicked away on his laptop that night.

"Please mommy, I really want to hear it. It's tradition." Sawyer had certainly mastered a persuasive pout. Her face with its rosy cheeks and big, wide eyes made it impossible for her to say no.

"Okay," Peyton agreed. She cleared her throat and settled slowly against the headboard. Sawyer rested her head against her mother's chest. "A Christmas Wish..."

---

A Christmas Wish

Once upon a time, there was a girl with her golden curls, ruby lips and intense emerald eyes. She lived in a small, friendly village called Tree Hill which was nestled upon the mountains.

The girl was smart and wily; to an outsider she looked look like a normal girl. However she was no ordinary girl. Most of the villagers knew her as the girl who preferred to be alone. They knew her as the only girl who hated Christmas and hated the winter. And despite her beauty and her good soul, she kept to herself and guarded her heart.

There was a reason behind this; when she was just eight years old something terrible had happened. Something so cruel and unexpected and it had left its mark upon her soul.

The girl had been lying awake in her bed on Christmas morning. She laid waiting for the day to begin; to open her presents, to sing carols and feast upon turkey. She stared out at the falling snow as it danced against the black skies. The snow flakes, with all their glistening beauty, captivated her. She climbed from the warm covers and crept over to the window for a closer look.

Standing on tip toes, the dark fir trees were illuminated by the gold light of lamps. She wiped the fog from the cold glass and she peered further over the sill. She spotted the moving cluster of village men and their hounds. They were looking for someone.

The girl was worried; she'd seen this only once before when a little boy went missing from the lakes on a late autumn's day. She remembered how concerned everyone had been, and her mother made her promise she would never wonder off. The boy had been found in a small cave; safe and lucky, her father had said sternly.

She should have known better than to leave her room. Curiosity took hold of the spirited young girl on that fateful dawn. She slipped her long black cloak over her nightgown and laced up her boots, before she snuck out into the snow.

Despite the frosty air whipping at her cheeks, and the snowy ground causing her small feet to slip and stumble, the little girl trekked after the search parties. She could hear them calling to one and another from the depths of the forest. She followed their voices and the flickering of lamps. She wanted to see what they were searching so intently for.

The girl wondered between the trees for what seemed like forever but eventually she found them. The men and their dogs were huddled at their final destination. The men stood bent and silent; they'd removed their hats as a mark of respect.

The little girl gathered up her long cloak and she crept to where her father was standing in the centre. His head bowed and he talked with the village's priest.

"Daddy," her little voice rang out clear as a bell. She'd startled the men and they turned quickly. She had been so quiet and they hadn't realised she was there. She ran over to her father. He had tears in his eyes. She'd never seen him cry and she was frightened then.

"No Princess," he said and scoped her up into his arms. "You don't want to see this."

But it was too late though. She saw her mother lying, half buried beneath the snow. Her face and lips were so blue. She wasn't breathing and she wasn't sleeping.

"Daddy?" She was afraid and her father's arms only held her tighter. "Daddy, why won't she wake up?" He didn't answer her and the girl pressed her face against his coat and closed her eyes.

"She's gone Peyton." The little girl didn't understand what that meant, and her father didn't explain further. He kept her close to his chest and carried her away.

Peyton watched over his shoulder; the villagers gathered her mother from the snow and carried her back to the village. A funeral was held the next day. Peyton didn't cry any tears until her mother was put into the ground. She'd dropped a wilting red rose on top of the wooden coffin and her tears had fallen harshly. It was then she'd realised her mother had been taken by the harsh cold of winter. And she wasn't ever coming back.

-x-x-x-

Eight years later, Peyton was sixteen and growing more beautiful with each passing day. During the warmer months she'd sit in the village courtyards for hours, reading or drawing. She captured the hearts of the many boys who watched her. She was kind and beautiful, inside and out. All the village boys wanted to be the one to melt her heart. To be the one that she fell in love with. She was, however, determined never to fall in love. She would never again be left sad and broken. She'd vowed, on the day they buried her mother, that she would never fall in love and give her heart away; to give her heart to someone would mean that she could get hurt again.

She lay on her bed on the first really cold winter's morning. The season had crept in upon her again this year; she wasn't prepared for it, but then she never was. The brown leaves had fallen long ago and the chilled winds had slowly seeped in. The snow had returned again, and had coated the village in its twinkling dust.

She didn't open the curtains to let in the sun; she never did once winter set in, because she didn't want to see the snow. It reminded her too much of that fateful day. She could still remember the sound of the search hounds; as they and the villagers woke her in the early hours of that Christmas morning. She could still hear the sound of howling, barking dogs even now the night is silent.

So whenever winter set in upon the town, Peyton tried to stay inside. She'd sit by her log fire and read for hours, just to escape to another world. She wished she could just forget this time of year and wait for the spring.

She lay with a copy of Utopia open at her side and she ran her fingers over her favourite gold locket. It had been her mother's most treasured possession. Her mother had said it was the very first gift her father had ever given her, and she'd always worn it.

Her father knocked as he entered her room but he didn't speak. He only stared at the blank canvas that had been sitting upon its easel for the past week. His daughter loved to paint; she spent days and nights drawing. She had done so since she was a child. She'd promised to fill their large hotel hallways with paintings and portraits. But when the seasons turned to winter any creativity she held within her only gave way to grief.

"Sweetheart," he said lightly. "We're getting ready to cut down the tree. Would you like to join us?"

She shook her head and stared into the crackling embers. The villagers did the same every year. They'd go into the forest and pick the biggest tree to cut down and put in the town square. Her father would invite her along each Christmas and she'd always say no. He would normally just leave without speaking another word, but this time he sat down beside her.

"You look more and more like her every day," he told her. Sometimes it was so hard for him to look at her and not see his long lost wife. "She'd be so proud of the young woman you're becoming."

Peyton felt the tears form at the corner of her eyes. She really hoped that her mother would be proud of her, but sometimes she believed she was nothing but a disappointment as her grief consumed her.

"I know you miss her sweetheart. I miss her too, especially at this time of year." Her father stroked her hair. "But your mother loved Christmas. You know the first time I met her was when we were decorating the tree."

Peyton smiled with a nod and a little giggle passed her lips. She'd heard the story many times before. "She said you were 'Grinchy' because you just wanted to come back to the hotel and wait for the guests to return for coffee."

Her father smiled at the memory. He'd inherited the Timber Street Hotel from his father before him. Larry Sawyer had been raised that business always came first. And he'd believed it until he'd met his late wife, Anna. Anna had changed him with a glowing smile and an infectious love for Christmas. He'd gained so much from knowing his wife, he'd still always worked hard but he filled his life with fun and family. He only hoped that someday Peyton would move past her hurt and do the same.

"She loved to go out and decorate the tree in the village square," he said gently. "I think that she would like it if you would carry on that tradition."

"If it meant that much to her then I will come," she said and brushed the single tear from her face.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek. To most people in the village Larry Sawyer was known as the hard working hotel owner and somewhat ruthless business man. He'd thrown himself into the running of his hotel because it was the only thing that got him through most days; that and his precious daughter.

Peyton got up and wrapped herself in her long cloak and boots. She slipped the necklace inside the depths of the pocket; she never let it out of her sight. Her father smiled and placed his arm around her shoulder before they walked out into the cold.

The village men and women trekked out into the forests, in search of the perfect tree. Peyton stayed close at her father's side. She felt the winds stinging at her face, and it was freezing her breath like it had that night. She felt a slight panic; she would rarely venture so far from the safety of their town during these months. But Larry held her hand and gave it a squeeze and she carried on.

The town's people finally decided upon a large tree in the depths of the wood, and then set about the task of cutting it down. Peyton watched the men work with their saws and axes. She chuckled at her father's weak attempts. She sunk her hands into the depths of her cloak, to the gold coils of the locket. It was then that her eyes caught sight of a young man she could never recall seeing before.

He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She couldn't help but stare at his crystal blue eyes, his dark blonde hair and beautiful, chiseled face. He saw her watching him and he smiled the most perfect smile. He was so intent on looking back at her that her father slapped the young man on the back in chastisement. Peyton giggled softly at her father's strict gesture and the man's apologetic wave. But he grinned back at her again as soon as Larry's back was turned. His smile warmed her from the insides; it was absolutely stunning and she instantly felt drawn to him.

Once back at the heart of their town, everyone set themselves to the task of decorating the tree. Peyton actually enjoyed the afternoon; she found herself smiling and laughing as she hung baubles and decorations onto the branches. She was given the honour of placing the angel at the very top of the tree to celebrate that she'd come out for the first time in years.

She climbed the ladder and rested the angel at the very top of the tree. She heard the cheers from below but they were muted by the whistle of a sharp, icy wind. The weathers rushed in and startled her. She'd moved to hold the ladder tighter but she felt herself slipping. She gasped, and she knew she was falling.

She braced herself to meet the cold, frozen grounds but instead he caught her. She fell straight into the arms of her mystery man. She stared into his very blue eyes; he asked her if she was alright and she could only nod.

He set her back down onto the cobbled street and he smiled. She didn't even have time to say thank you. Her father was hurrying toward her and he wore a concerned look on his face. She assured him that she was fine but he took her straight home anyway before she could utter her thank you to her rescuer.

Peyton searched for the mysterious man later that evening. She walked about the village and asked everyone if they had seen him. She enquired as to whom he was but no one seemed to know. And what was even more confusing to the girl was that no one even remembered seeing him at all. She did not see him again that day; it was as if he disappeared.

That night she lay by the fire, with the snows falling in heavy flurries outside her window. She held an old book in her hands but only stared into the flames. All she could do was remember the boy who'd held her under the tree. She couldn't stop thinking him. Finally, with heavy lashes, she fell asleep and she dreamt of him.

-x-x-x-

The following day, before the sun rose, the boy made his way up the steep hill to the Timber Street Hotel. He could see the dim lights from a distance. He'd come from two towns over, from his family's struggling farm. He'd come to make money for them to keep the property and had answered the advertisement to work as a bell boy for Larry Sawyer. Mr Sawyer ran the best hotel in the town, and though he was known as a tough employer, he promised good pay and working conditions. It was better than he could hope for back in his own hometown, so he'd travelled with the intentions of making as much money as he could over Christmas.

The snow had come again that night, thicker this time, and he struggled up the steep slope with his battered luggage. From afar the hotel was large and lavish, with its white fronts and bay windows. The balcony stretched across most of the first floor and the huge oak doors were lined with holly. The hotel and its grounds were well taken care of, but despite its grand size it still seemed welcoming and homely.

Finally the boy set his beaten suitcase upon the stone steps and rapped on the door. A friendly and chubby faced housekeeper let him in from the cold. She smiled at him warmly and offered him some hot tea. He politely declined and followed her through the empty lobby and to the office of his new boss.

Larry Sawyer set the morning's paper down and peered over his half moon spectacles from across his desk. He stared at the blonde haired boy who'd kept smiling at his daughter the day before. He eyed the younger man's scuffed boots sceptically before he cleared his throat and began to speak.

The hotel owner was stern and brief as he explained the rules and duties to the young man. The hotel was busy this time of year, Mr Sawyer informed him. The boy was to tend to every want and whim requested by the hotel's guests. He wasn't to finish for the night until all the guests were happy and turned into their rooms. But in return he could keep all tips that he earned, and he would be given a room in the servants' quarters and meals.

The boy accepted the position with a smile. He was so intent on making enough for his family to afford to keep their farm back home that he would have done pretty much anything.

He moved to his room to change for the busy day. He unpacked his few possessions quickly, setting the picture of his mother, uncle and baby sister onto the bedside table. He placed his collection well worn books beside it. The bell in the hotel lobby sounded with a sharp ping and he changed hastily into the red and black uniform. He hurriedly reported for duty.

His first task was to clear the path and driveway of all the heavy snow the latest storm had brought. He shovelled back the mounds of ice and occasionally smiled at the sympathetic town's folk; they all knew that Larry Sawyer worked his staff hard to maintain a pristine establishment. But he continued on, he was so determined to make a good impression on his first day that he didn't hear the shouts from behind him as he dug away at the snowy path.

The voice eventually disturbed him and he turned away from his task. He turned to face her. He couldn't help but smile as he saw the lovely girl he'd saved from falling. He hadn't been able to not watch her the day before in the woods and he couldn't help but stare at her now.

"Who are you?" She was still dressed in her night gown with her cloak draped loosely around her shoulders. She was out in the cold, with the icy breeze whipping through her curls, but she didn't seem to care.

"Good morning to you too," he greeted cheerfully and he raised his cap. He was grinning at her, he couldn't help it, and she smiled back.

"Who are you?" she repeated the question as she stood in front of him. "What are you doing?"

"I work here. I work for your father."

"Since when? He didn't tell me."

"I just started today."

"Who are you?" she repeated. She had to know the name of the man who'd rescued her from falling, and who she now couldn't stop thinking about.

"I'm Lucas." He dusted the snow off his glove before he extended his arm towards her. Her features softened and she reached to shake his hand.

"Peyton!" Her father calling her name, and hurrying towards them, caused the girl to draw her cloak tightly around her body and she took a step back.

Mr Sawyer's eyes held Lucas in a disapproving gaze and Lucas could only smile apologetically. He didn't want to make a bad impression. He knew it wasn't proper for the teenage girl to be in her nightgown and talking to a stranger.

"Bell boy, hurry on now, our guests will be arriving shortly," the older man chastised.

"Yes, sir, Mr Sawyer," Lucas's hands curled immediately around the shovel and he continued on with the chore.

The man softened as he turned his attentions to his daughter. "Sweetheart, you'll catch a death of cold." He took her by the arm and pulled back towards the house.

Lucas swept back the snow but couldn't help but notice how Peyton stole a glance back in his direction. He lifted his cap in a polite flourish and earned another sweet smile from her before she disappeared back inside.

His first day was long and hard. The guests arrived thick and fast throughout to enjoy the festivities of Tree Hill; it was widely recognised as the town that knew how to really celebrate Christmas. And when Lucas wasn't lugging heavy suitcases up the endless flights of stairs, there were still windows to clean and floors to polish. Mr Sawyer was known as a tough employer and now he knew why.

By the time he'd finished for the day, every muscle he had ached. But when he set the bronze coins onto the little wooden table he smiled. His calloused hands and sore feet seemed worth it because of his generous earnings.

He lit the oil lamp and his modest quarters flickered into view. He removed the stiff fabric of his uniform in favour of the woollen sweater his mother had knitted. He lit the small log fire and picked up one of his books; with the last guests fed and now turned in for the night, he was looking forward to lying down and reading for a while.

He was about to settle his weary frame onto the inviting mattress when he saw her.

She was sitting at her large bay window, with her head tilted against the window pane. She watched the world go on outside from under her thick lashes. He couldn't help but move towards his frosted window and stare across at the boss's daughter. The flickering candle light illuminated her delicate features. He saw the tears trailing down her pale cheeks; she stared down at the falling snow as it coated the fir trees. She was perfect to behold and yet she seemed so sad. He felt bad for watching her but he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Slowly she lifted her head while the storm stirred and the winds slashed through the night. The air caught in his throat when she caught him watching her. She pulled the heavy drapes in front of her window shielding herself from view. Lucas let a deep sigh pass between his lips and stared across at the room that was now plunged into darkness.

-x-x-x-

The days leading up to the Christmas celebrations were spent the same way; the town's people set up and became more and more excited, and Peyton sat alone in her room. She warmed herself in front of the fire, reading, whilst she tried to forget the world outside. She would venture to the balcony on the top floor of the hotel sometimes. She stood with a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders and she listened to the cheery, round-faced man with the roasted chestnuts stand as he went about his business. She watched the children skating on the iced-over lakes and the teenagers threw snow balls at unsuspecting people.

She did catch glimpses of Lucas. He worked hard, each and every day, shovelling snow and chopping the logs for the fire. He was charming and helpful to the guests no matter how much they asked of him. But Peyton did see his yawns and she'd smile warmly whenever he chanced a look up in her direction.

She began to leave her room more often. She wandered the hotel just so she could pass him in the hallway. He'd always smile and lift his black cap in a mark of respect. He'd mutter a few words of pleasantry. He was shy with her, but he would always smile and try to make her laugh. He'd forget whatever task he was supposed to be doing, until the bell sounded from the lobby and Lucas would have to rush off to welcome the new guests.

Her father began to grow found of Lucas. The guests all loved the young, charming bell boy, and Peyton knew her father respected Lucas for his hard work and dedication.

So much so that Larry soon invited Lucas to sit with them for dinner. For years it had been only father and daughter sitting at their separate table in the large dining room amongst the rest of the guests. It was nice to have a change in conversation. Larry and Lucas shared a love of literature; Peyton couldn't remember hearing her father talking so passionately with anyone. She would sit and listen to them discussing classic stories and dead writers, and she'd catch Lucas's eye every now and again.

On the shortest day of the year Peyton left the house to buy her Christmas gifts. Normally she wouldn't bother; she didn't celebrate the season, but she woke up feeling festive and she didn't really know why. She was inclined to blame Lucas for singing carols while he polished the stairs that morning.

She marched over to the shoe store to buy some skates. Her father had mentioned months before that he wanted to skate on the frozen ponds at the town's centre. She purchased new boots to replace Lucas's scuffed ones, she shouldn't and she didn't even know why she was inclined to buy anything for the boy she barely knew. But she bought them anyway; it was the season of good will after all, she reasoned to herself quietly.

She handed over the gold coins in return for the neatly wrapped boxes. She offered the shop keeper an idle 'Merry Christmas' before she left. Overloaded with packages she collided with another person on the icy stone steps. She lost her balance and dropped the gifts she'd been carrying. They scattered about the ground but Lucas held her steady, his strong, muscular frame caught her before she stumbled.

Her eyes locked with the very blue ones of Lucas. She'd quite literally fallen into his arms again and she felt the blush warming her cheeks. Her breath caught up in her throat and she stared up at him. He was holding her so closely and she began to lose herself in his gaze. Being with him made her feel different, lighter and she wasn't sure why.

"We need to stop meeting like this," he joked with a wide grin.

"I'm so sorry," she managed to stammer. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I think I can forgive the most beautiful girl in the village," he answered with a smile and her shyness only deepened with his compliment.

She stared down at the snow, focusing on her own boots to hide her rosy cheeks. He released his hold on her shoulders.

"Let me get those for you," he mumbled and bent to retrieve her various parcels and packages. He was always so kind and polite to her.

"I should get on home. It'll be dark soon."

"Of course."

She took a step back but she couldn't stop staring at him. Here he was working at the hotel and now befriending her father. He seemed like a permanent and welcome fixture in her life.

"Would you walk with me?" she asked, a little surprised by her own boldness.

"As you wish."

Lucas carried her Christmas gifts and she didn't argue with him. She fell into step beside him as they walked from the closing stores and alongside the iced-over lake. She gazed over at the children and the young couples who were confident enough to skate upon the solid water's surface.

"Looks like fun?" he asked.

"I guess," she replied sceptically.

"You don't skate?"

"No." She offered a shake of her curls and hoped that would be the end of the conversation. But she continued to focus on a young man and girl as the skated and spun around in tight circles. For an idle moment she wished she could skate; she imagined her and Lucas on the ice while the couple giggled and performed their tricks.

Lucas's eyes moved over to what held her attention. "You know for a girl who hates the winter and doesn't skate, I am surprised to see that you have skates."

"They are a present for my father. And anyway how do you know that I hate the winter?"

"I can just see it in you. You don't leave the house unless you have to. You were afraid when we cut down the tree in the middle of the forest."

She didn't speak. She walked on to Tree Hill's wooden bridge that was decorated with hanging lanterns and twinkling lights. The golden rays made the fallen snow glitter and glisten; she'd never noticed how pretty it looked, like jewels of the night. Lucas followed and came to stand beside her.

"You've been watching me?" She knew he had, mainly because she'd been watching him too.

He nodded his head uncertainly at her question. She tried to control the overwhelming joy she felt. She needed to be sensible. That was who she was and how she protected her heart.

"We barely know each other," she told him rationally. "I don't know anything about who you are and yet you seem to know who I am."

"It must be fate," he stated simply. "Or perhaps destiny."

"I don't believe in such nonsense as fate or destiny," she countered. He was a dreamer if he chose to believe in such things. She couldn't, not when she knew life could be so cruel and unjust. She was on her own in this world and she knew it. Life had taught her that harsh lesson. "I believe life is what you make of it. That you have only one chance to live your life and what you do with it is up to you."

"Which is why you hide yourself away in your room?" he challenged her. "You should be out living life."

Peyton only looked down at the frozen lake below. Lucas wasn't wrong; she knew it, as much as she didn't want to admit it.

"It looks like fun doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does."

"I could teach you, if you would like?"

He was standing so close to her, she could feel his warm hand resting lightly on her arm. She felt her heated shyness rise. She wanted to spend more time with Lucas.

She focused on a little girl with the shining brown hair. The little girl spun across the frozen surface in large and daring circles. She was laughing and she didn't have a care in the world. Peyton remembered being that way; when her mother had still been alive, she had been so brave and she'd never thought her life could be anything but wonderful.

The sight of a mother lifting the little girl from the ice, and telling her it was time to go home, made Peyton's heart ache and tears stung at her eyes.

"I don't think so."

Lucas didn't say anything further and Peyton moved from the railing and away from him. She stood alone for a moment while she took a deep breath and tried not to cry.

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," she insisted with a shake of her head.

"You seem sad, so I know I did and I'm sorry. I should take you home."

"No, I just want to stand here for a little while." She turned away and curled her hands tightly over the railings.

"Would you like me to go?" She continued to stare down at the ice but she shook her head. She asked him to stay and he moved beside her without another word. He watched her brush away stray tears with a stubborn hand. He hated to see her cry.

"My mother, she died during the winter," she said in a fragile voice. She didn't even know why she was telling him her story. "She'd left the day before Christmas Eve. She'd do the same every year; she'd ride her horse to see my grandfather two towns over. She left in the morning and she was supposed to be back by nightfall. Only she never came back. The winter took her."

"I'm sorry," he said in a gentle voice. He was sorry. He'd only asked once why this lovely girl kept herself locked away during the winter. He'd asked the housekeeper and she'd let a sad expression grace her usually happy face. She'd told him the tragic story and made Lucas promise never to utter that he knew to either Peyton or Larry Sawyer.

"This time of year is hard." She turned back to look at him. "Everyone's so happy and I only see her...only her... And I hate that I miss her so much."

"You won't be sad forever," he whispered the wise promise his own mother had told him once. "It gets easier, eventually." He laid his hand on her shoulder and she leant into his touch just a little, as the weight of grief threatened to unbalance her.

"It isn't fair," she uttered with a sob. She didn't want to be like this, but she couldn't help it.

"No, it's not fair." He squeezed her arm lightly. "But it is okay to miss her. My father, he passed away just two years ago."

Peyton locked her eyes with Lucas then and she really realised she knew nothing about him. He knew about her life, he could ask her father or anyone in the village anything that he wished to know. But she knew him only the bell boy, and the man who went about his days just trying to make her smile.

"Lucas, I'm so..." she stammered her apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"He had a bad heart," he whispered. "He was rich with everything he ever wanted but he was bitter and sometimes cruel. We weren't close. He was married and had an affair with my mother and never claimed me as his son."

Peyton only gazed him and recognised the pain in his eyes. "Lucas, I don't..." She felt so bad for him. He didn't need to tell her all this.

"My point is he was a bad man when he was alive. But I still miss him. I still get sad sometimes. So you see it's more than okay for you to miss her."

Peyton offered an uncertain nod of her head. She wiped away the tears that glazed over her chilled cheeks. "It just hurts."

"I know. But one day it'll stop hurting so much. It does get easier. It all gets easier. I promise."

Peyton offered a little smile. She wanted to believe him so much. She hoped that he was right.

"Thank you," she said simply because she didn't know what else to say.

"I should get you home." He took her hand into his. His warm fingers curled around her smaller ones. She walked along beside him.

-x-x-x-

In the following days and nights, since their shared, confessions, Peyton couldn't stop thinking about him. She'd sometimes dream of him. An invisible force drew her to him more and more with every passing day. She felt happier since he had come into her life but she wasn't too sure why. She just was.

She came out of her room more often. She'd sit outside as Lucas chopped wood for the fire, she'd offer her help when he carried piles of laundry to the guests' rooms. She liked talking to him. She liked his company and didn't care that the guests and villagers now began to openly whisper and stare, watching Larry Sawyer's daughter talk to the bell boy.

She also began to paint again; it was a first for her during these wintry days. She woke up with an urge to draw and had thrown back her ruffled bed covers and reached for her paints. She brought her easel and canvases down the stairs, her father lifted his head from his newspaper and smiled, but he didn't say a word.

Peyton hummed, mixing her colours on the palette, before she lost herself amongst her brush strokes and the blurring of lines. She stood in the hotel's large foyer; the best nature light came from that space. She didn't care that she could see the snow falling and thickly coating the ground outside. In fact, for once, it seemed to inspire her art. She painted a scene of a couple holding hands, walking through the main street while the shop fronts remained icy and decorated by lights and flakes of snow. She worked and she kept smiling in spite of herself.

When Lucas came up behind her she felt her blush rise again. She knew it was him without having to look around or hear him speak.

"It's beautiful," he told her. He knew that the paintings he dusted in the hallways were mostly hers. They were bold, breathtaking and would capture his imagination.

"Thank you," her hand moved self consciously to her neck and he grinned. "What?" she exclaimed in mild annoyance as he seemed to be laughing at her.

"You have a little paint..." he moved to wipe it from her skin but then let his arm fall back to his side. To touch her would be too forward of him.

"Oh," she felt foolish and smiled uncertainly. She rubbed at the mark with her finger tips.

"I wish I could paint," he uttered, staring in awe at her picture.

"Have you even tried?" she asked him. Lucas seemed like the boy who could do everything. He was strong and capable as he chopped wooden logs for the fire on the freezing winter mornings or when he lugged the guests' heavy cases up the many flights of stairs. And yet he was so intelligent and passionate when he and her father discussed beloved classic over dinner.

"No."

"Then how do you know that you can't?" she challenged him with a bell of laughter. "It isn't hard. Give me your hand."

"Give me your hand," she repeated and he eyed her sceptically, but chose to agree to the boss's daughter's request. He offered her his hand and watched as she placed the paint brush in between his fingers and thumb.

"Now you don't want to hold the brush too tight," she explained, attempting to loosen his grip. "This isn't an axe, you have to let it breath."

"Let it breath?" he repeated in a doubtful tone and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Lucas smiled gently, she was adorable and a mixture of sternness and dedication to her craft. He hadn't seen her like this but he liked it. He let her rearrange his fingers on the thin brush, and they both stared down at the hands that seemed to fit so perfectly together.

Peyton broke the moment with a self conscious flick of her hair before she picked up her paints. "Go ahead."

"I'll mess up your painting," he replied worriedly.

"You won't," she said with a little shake of her curls. "I trust you."

He beamed at that. He listened to her instructions, and she guided his hand over the perfect replica of the Tree Hill Lake. He bit down on his lip, he sank into concentration. He moved the brush hesitantly at first; her hand never really left his.

He gazed in satisfaction at the small, delicate strokes he'd painted on the canvas. Next to hers he thought maybe they were the only ones who could ever spot the difference.

"See I told you that you could do it," she spoke with a wide grin and an air of self satisfaction at being right.

"I had a good teacher," came his humble answer.

She turned around to face him. The painting was forgotten as the tip of her nose grazed against his own. She could barely breathe. He was so close but she didn't pull away. She didn't think she could even if she wanted to. But she didn't want to. She relished the closeness between them. She felt the tickle of his breath against her skin.

"Peyt." Her name passed his lips in a frail breath. "Can I kiss you?"

She moved her head just a fraction in invitation, she couldn't speak a word. He didn't need to ask her but she thought it was sweet that he did.

The simple, gentle sensation of his hands cupping her face sent shivers down her spine. Her gaze was lost in a sea of crystal blue and she reached up on her toes. The kiss was everything she'd imagined a first kiss to be like. So much better than the ones she'd read about in her books and the fairy-tales her mother had read to her years ago. It was soft and innocent but fuelled by so much more. The painting, Lucas's working for her father, and all her hurt and insecurities all fell away in those chaste few moments. She became lost among gentle touches and the whispers of happiness.

Once they broke apart, Peyton lowered her eyes shyly. She tried to focus her dazed mind onto the polished floor boards beneath her feet. His hand reaching to stroke back her hair had her look back up at him. She leaned into his comforting touch.

"Come with me tonight," he requested after being so caught up with the moment that he'd forgotten himself. "Skating on the lakes. I'll teach you."

"I don't know," she whispered softly. She'd imagined them skating together so many times but something her fears till held her back.

"I'd never let anything happen to you." His blue eyes locked with her green ones. She wanted to believe him; she thought she could believe him. She thought she could believe anything of this sweet, wonderful man.

The ding of bell and her father calling for Lucas to come to the lobby had them breaking apart hastily.

"I'll wait for you," he said before he hurried off to welcome the hotel's latest guests. "The lakes, eight o'clock, think about it."

-x-x-x-

Peyton watched Lucas over the dining table like she always did. She barely touched her food. She kept thinking about Lucas, their kiss and his request. She didn't listen while her father talked about the Christmas Eve party they hosted every year for the village. She absent-mindedly agreed to help with the decorations although she never would normally volunteer.

She soon returned to her room to find a single red rose lying against her white pillow. She didn't have to pick it up to know who it was from. It wasn't the correct thing for a man to enter a girl's bedroom. She knew her father would be so furious that he'd probably sack Lucas for such an inappropriate action. But she couldn't help but smile. She crossed the room and plucked the flower from her bed.

Trust me.

She stared down at the spiky, handwritten request. She felt the same fluttering sensation in her stomach that she always did when she thought of Lucas. She'd told him that she did trust him. And the truth was she trusted him more than she'd ever trusted anyone in her life. She hadn't known him for long, but in some ways it felt like she'd known him forever. She felt so safe with him, she mused, while she traced her finger tip over the delicate red petals. She'd felt everything, all at once, when Lucas had kissed her.

"If I didn't know any better," her father said startling her. "I would think you were falling in love."

"Daddy," Peyton exclaimed, she hadn't even heard his footsteps. She averted her eyes to the floor when she felt her shyness rise once again.

"Is the rose from him?"

"Yes," she answered shakily. She wasn't a good liar so she chose to be truthful; though she was afraid her father would fire Lucas.

"I've seen the way you look at him," Larry told her while he stepped into the centre of the room. He'd caught the looks traded between his daughter and the boy. In truth, he'd had to think twice about hiring Lucas to begin with. And he knew, without a doubt, that Lucas had everything to do with his daughter's new found happiness.

"Daddy, I..." She had every intention of defending Lucas's actions. Since she'd lost her mother, her father had been incredibly protective of her.

"He makes you happy?" His voice was soft and his expression wasn't angry. He actually seemed pleased and maybe a little proud.

She nodded her head and smiled a little smile. Lucas did make her happy. And she wanted that to be the only thing she felt. But there was something else lying deep within her soul, a hidden and idle fear that she wished would just disappear. She wanted to confess how she felt, that she didn't want to lose Lucas like she'd lost her mother, but she couldn't.

"What is it?" Larry asked.

"I'm scared," she admitted in a small voice. She stared down at the rose she still cradled between her finger tips. She wasn't used to feeling this way, she was so happy and that sadly wasn't something she was used to. Her heart had healed since Lucas had come into her life but she was afraid that it all would end.

"You know sweetheart," he moved to hold her, cradling her head to his chest like he had done since she was a little girl. "Bad things happen in life. And we can't predict them. We can't stop them."

She only nodded in response. He'd told her this many times before and she'd come to accept it as the truth. It was the only thing that even began to make sense of the tragedy.

"But that doesn't mean it isn't worth the risk to take a chance. And if your mother were still with us, she would have wanted you to be happy. She wouldn't have wanted you to shield yourself away in her memory like this."

"Daddy..." she uttered softly when he pulled apart from her.

"Be happy princess," he said wisely. "It's worth the risk. If I hadn't met your mother, I wouldn't have you." He kissed her on the top of her curls and didn't offer another word.

Peyton watched her father leave the room. He'd given her his blessing.

She stared into the crackling orange flames. She liked Lucas, he made her feel so content, and she wasn't ready to lose that. She made her decision in a split second. She pulled the box containing her old skates from under her bed. She'd had them for years but had never used them. As she pulled her cloak over her shoulders she thought maybe it was about time she did.

She set off into the darkness, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement. Her heart fluttered when she saw him, already standing on the ice and she knew she had made the right choice.

-x-x-x-

Lucas stood on the edge of the vast, frozen waters and he stared at the shining lamps illuminating the village. He could see the hotel perfectly from his position. He waited for her, hands stuffed into his pockets against the winter's chill. He tried to be patient and hopeful but he was beginning to think that he'd be skating alone.

Then he saw her, walking along the snowy paths towards him. Her gold hair spilled in thick waves over her velvety cloak.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," he called while he glided over the ice towards her.

"I wasn't sure myself," Peyton said honestly. But she smiled watching as he sped so effortlessly towards her.

"Would you like to try it?" he asked gently.

"Yes." She'd been good on the ice when she was a child. Her mother had brought her here all the time and she'd enjoyed it then. She laced up her own skates before she stood hesitantly at the lip of the rink. "What now?"

Lucas didn't speak; he only held his gloved hand out towards her in invitation. She grinned, letting her smaller hand rest on top of his. Her confidence was short lived when her first step onto the ice below caused her to slip.

"I don't think I know how. I've forgotten...," she protested and her fingers curled tighter at Lucas's hand.

"You just need to practice. Trust me." He led her carefully to the centre of the frozen lake.

"I don't know." Her first movements were small and uncertain. She held onto Lucas firmly, her feet felt like they would give out at any misjudged moment. Her eyes were fixed down watching the motions of her feet cautiously.

"It's alright," he lifted her chin. "Look up at me. You're not going to fall."

Peyton furrowed her brow, "you make it sound so easy."

"It is," he chuckled. "I'll show you." He pried her clenched hands from their place on his upper arms. She wanted to object as he placed one hand at her waist and held on to her other outstretched wrist. She felt more vulnerable this way. She was about to say something but he had taken hold of her body and was guiding her over the ice.

They glided over the surface together, he held onto her hand so protectively. They moved in large, easy circles and she soon began to grasp the techniques. She listened to his instructions with keen ears, leaning and shifts her body.

"See you can do it," he told her as her quiet murmurs of uncertainty had given way to peels of laughter. She grew more confident and he held her by just the outstretched tips of her fingers. They spun in tighter curls and she glided around the space freely.

She was having fun. She even let go of him at one point, to attempt a tight spin she'd perfected as a child. She turned too quick and must have balanced her weight wrongly. Her right leg buckled from under her and she fell hard. She crumpled onto the icy surface and sailed into the white, fluffy bank. Her complacency had got the better of her, but she just laughed.

"Are you okay?" He knelt down beside her, his forehead knitted with concern. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she said dusting herself off. She was giggling, she couldn't stop herself, but he still looked worried. "Lucas, I'm fine."

He nodded his head and moved to help her up. But she only tugged on his hand, with a grip stronger than he knew that she possessed. He collapsed into the soft snow and she only laughed harder. He found himself chuckling along with her, he couldn't help him. He honestly couldn't remember a time when he'd seen her look so cheerful.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were starting to like the winter," he stated, trying to brush off the flakes from his coat.

"I like you." If she was ever going to begin to like the winter season then she knew it was all down to knowing him.

"I like you too," he reached his hand towards her, brushing the tiny flecks of snow from her hair.

"I was thinking maybe we could go to the Christmas Eve party together?" she asked as their noses came so close like they had done before in the hotel. "I don't normally go but...I thought it might be fun?"

"What about your father? And the hotel's guests?"

Peyton lowered her gaze to their intertwined fingers. The town's people would most likely talk; the wealthy hotel owner's daughter dating the hired help would be subject to quiet, idle gossip. But she didn't care. They'd whispered about her for years. "My father likes you and everyone else doesn't matter."

He brought her hand to his lips in a gentlemanly way, kissing her knuckles and making her smile. "In that case, Miss Sawyer, it would be an honour."

She laughed and she teased him, but her emerald green eyes fluttered up to meet his crystal blue ones. His fingers traced gently across the soft line of her jaw. Since his kissing her in the lobby he'd been hopeful of a second kiss. She was gazing at him, quietly requesting a kiss, and yet he held back.

Peyton reached her own hand to his face, letting her own lips touch so lightly to his own. Her mouth brushed against his lower lip in the faintest gesture. She did surprise him a little with her boldness but he knew really he shouldn't be surprised. He remembered his uncle warning him of the wiliness of beautiful girls. This girl was as pure and delicate as silk, with a burning, inner fire. He pulled her closer, deepening the embrace she'd already begun.

The second kiss was even better than the first; tender but less tentative. It was just him, her and the starry night sky. His lips were warm against her own and she could easily lose herself in the beauty of the boy who made her feel a million things all at once.

She sighed faintly as they broke apart, she already missed the contact. He smiled at the pinkish tint of her cheeks and pressed a light kiss to the tip of her nose.

"See there's nothing to be afraid of Peyton."

"Perhaps not," she conceded then. With him she didn't feel afraid anymore. She knew he was probably talking about the season and the skating. And she had to admit it was beautiful; the night so was still, the dark skies glittered. It was perfect and she was here with the one man who'd made her happier than she'd been for longer that she could remember.

"So did you skate with all the other girls back home?" She asked the question lightly but she felt a slight hint of worry as to what his answer may be.

"Only one girl," he said with a smile that deepened when he saw the shadows of jealousy on Peyton's face. "My baby sister."

"Oh," she smiled back lightly, and let a tiny laugh pass through her. She felt foolish.

"Her name is Lily, you'd like her. She's beautiful, smart and about as stubborn as you are."

Peyton chuckled and rested her head against his chest. "You don't talk about you family much? Other than your father you've never mentioned any of them."

"We live on a small farm. We inherited it when my father died. Business has been slow this year so I came here to work." Peyton listened intently; Lucas had never opened up to talk about his own past before. "My mother's good and kind and my uncle taught me everything I've ever needed to know."

"Do you miss home?" She'd never been apart from her father for more than a day since she'd lost her mother.

"Sometimes. But I'll go back there someday."

Peyton's arm tightened around his body. She didn't ever want him to go away.

"Maybe I could take you with me." He was uncertain when he spoke the words of invitation. He dreaded the day he'd have to leave about as much as she did. "You'd like them, and I know they'd like you."

"I'd like that." She smiled before she reached up for another kiss. She became lost to his gentle touches and the softest of caresses. She felt the fuzzy, warmth spread through her core, she could lose herself in this man. It was a wonderful and slightly frightening sensation for her; feeling like this was all so very new.

They broke apart, and Peyton took a large gulp of air. Their eyes locked on one another.

"I love you," he whispered the words while the light flakes of glitter fell from the skies above.

"I..."the words swelled as a frozen breath upon her lips. She wanted to say it back. She thought of her father's words back in the house, she thought of every wonderful moment spent with this boy. Saying it back to him should have been the simplest thing in the world.

But before she was even aware of her actions she was pulling herself from his arms and standing up on weak, unsteady legs.

"Peyton?" He rose to his feet immediately. His expression was a mask of confusion. He hoped that she'd say it back. He guessed it was too soon for her.

"I have to go." She turned sharply, wanting so badly to just run from him.

"Peyt," he caught her arm, moving her to face him again. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she shook her curls and kept her eyes down on the cold ground. She didn't want to be this way, not with him, but she didn't know how else to be. "Please just take me home."

"Peyton, it's alright," he murmured lowly. He just wanted to make her feel safe and happy.

"Luke, please." The heat gathered behind her eyes and her voice sounded so fragile even in her own ears.

She felt so ashamed. Lucas's hand found its way to her arm and he guided her carefully from the lake and back to the well lit hotel. He didn't speak a word, they made it inside and she couldn't look at him. She gathered up her skates and practically ran up the stairs to her bedroom. The tears came hot and fast as she pushed the skates into their box and back beneath the depths of her bed.

She moved over to her window. She could see him clearly. He stared back at her, through the frosted glass with his face illuminated by one single candle. With a shaking hand she pulled the drapes to conceal herself from his view. Now completely in darkness, she collapsed face down on the bed, hugging at her pillow and trying not to cry.

-x-x-x-

Christmas Eve arrived in a lazy hue of pinkish-orange rays, and Peyton blinked her lashes against the dimness of the sun. She barely slept that night, her mind kept wandering to her regrettable display at the lakes. She heard her father calling and knocking on her door intently. All she wanted to do was bury her head beneath the covers and forget, but she couldn't. She'd promised to help to set up for the party and she threw back the blankets with a huff.

She went about her duties for the big party. She hung up streamers and balloons, and attempted not to think about the night before. She tried to avoid seeing Lucas, because she couldn't really think of any way to excuse her actions. She'd acted out of instinct and she'd hurt him. She wished she could just take it all back, but she didn't know now. She need not have bothered in fretting; she didn't see him all day.

By night fall she was dressed in a long, scarlet gown. It had been her mother's but she'd never worn it until tonight. Peyton had never really worn such a bold shade but her mother had basked in the bright, vivid colour. Glancing at her reflection she felt a mild pang of satisfaction as she realised the red suited her too. She smoothed down the silky material of the skirt. Her hair tumbled down past her shoulders in loose, silken curls. All her life, she'd dismissed the villagers' comments and compliments that she looked so much like her beautiful mother. She'd ignored the striking resemblance because it hurt too much to see it.

That was until now. Something had changed and lifted within her. That hurt wasn't so great. Her fingers coiled around the locket, and the tip of her thumb traced along her father's engraving he'd written to her mother all those years ago. She missed her mother so very much but these past weeks with Lucas made her feel new and different.

He made her want to live again. He made her smile, a real and genuine smile. Both of these things to anyone else would have been small and insignificant but to the girl with the sad and broken smile they meant everything in the world.

She let the gold necklace fall back to her chest. She had to find him and try to talk to him. She stood in front of the mirror and stared back at her reflection. She began to realise how horrible it would be if she lost him forever. He would be at the party tonight. He had the night off and he told her that he would come. She just hoped that he still would after last night.

At the sounds of their many guests arriving and music playing, Peyton made her way carefully down the stairs holding the delicate silk in her hands. People's heads lifted in her direction as they stared and whispered. But she only wanted to impress one person. Her heart swelled a little with doubt, but all she wanted to do was talk to him.

Peyton stood in the corner of the room with her fingers curled around a glass of mulled wine. She soon began to worry. People filled the rooms, drinking and talking happily. Her eyes mingled through the tight crowds of familiar smiling faces but she couldn't see him.

She moved into the centre of the room, wondering if she'd simply missed him and he was talking away from the throngs of merry men and women. She smiled politely as she passed Henry Monroe, a wealthy boy she'd gone to school with. He was the mayor's first born son and considered himself one of her worthier suitors. He'd made it clear that he wanted to marry her but she'd refused and luckily her father hadn't forced her into the union.

Henry grinned his crocked grin. He offered her his hand, and asked her to dance. She declined and quickly slipped past him and hurried toward her father.

"Is that your mother's dress?" Larry asked, while smiling like a proud man.

"Yes, I thought it was best to take it out from the dusty closet," Peyton replied with a little flourish of the flowing skirt. She smiled brightly when Larry grinned and those little lines crinkled at his eyes.

"You look beautiful in it sweetheart." He hugged her and he kissed her cheek. "Your mother wore it every Christmas."

"I know," Peyton's head inclined in acknowledgment.

"She would have loved to see you in it now." His voice was laced with a little sadness but his smile was still full of pride and bright. Larry clinked his glass with her own.

She took a sip of her drink but her eyes but fixed on the large hard wood doors as they opened and more guests staggered in from the cold. "Have you seen Lucas?"

"No, he went to gather forest this morning. I haven't seen him since" Larry answered with a mild shake of his head. He'd only given the bell boy one task for that day; to go into the forest and gather wood for the fires.

"What?" her question died on her lips and she felt that feeling of dread within her heart.

"I gave him almost the whole day off. He probably went to visit his family," her father reasoned while he looked at his daughter's wide, terrified eyes.

She shook her head stubbornly, she couldn't believe that. "He wouldn't just leave like that. Not without saying goodbye."

She turned on her heel; she gathered up the long swirls of her gown and hurried through the mass of smiling friends. She rushed through the corridors and to the servants' quarters and to Lucas's room. She hoped that her father was right; even if he'd left without a word and she never saw him again, she'd feel better at least knowing he was safe.

She burst into the dark and silent space. She held onto a fragile breath and she lit the oil lamp. His room was exactly like how he'd left it this morning. His bed was made and his books were stacked neatly on the table beside it. She saw his ice-skating boots cast off by the window where he'd most probably left them last night.

Peyton rushed over to his cupboards, which were still filled with his clothes. His battered suitcase was lying beneath the bed. He hadn't left her, not by choice anyway. All that was missing was his uniform and the silly cap she'd teased him for wearing. She didn't think he'd come back to his room since this morning.

"Oh no, please no," Peyton muttered under her breath. She moved unsurely over to the window. She could see the storm beginning to stir in the rustling winds. The snow fell in heavy flakes.

"Come on sweetheart," her father's hand came to touch at her arm. "There's no sense in upsetting yourself. I'm sure that there's a perfectly logical explanation for all of this."

"Where is he daddy?" she choked on her tears.

Larry moved forwards to pull his little girl into his arms and she let him. "I don't know. But we'll find him." He stroked a hand through her hair. "You should go to your room."

"No," her whole body stiffened. She couldn't sit in her room and do nothing. Not this time. "I have to look for him." She shrugged and pulled her body away from his hold.

"You're not going out there," he protested and reached to catch her.

"I have to," she uttered defiantly and slipped past him. She hurried down the servant's corridors and to the lobby. She knew her father was close behind her. She tied on her cloak as her father made it to her side.

"I'll send the search parties," Larry panted while trying to catch his breath. "But you can't go out there. I can't lose you like I lost your mother."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. She ignored her father's pleas. This was all her fault. "I have to find him." She slipped past him quickly.

"No," Larry uselessly tried to grab onto Peyton's arm again in a vain attempt to stop her from running outside. "Peyton, don't," he shouted after her. "It's far too dangerous."

Peyton hurried away from her father and through the deserted streets. All the shops had closed early for the night and most of the town's residents were at the party. The quiet, cobbled streets were slippery with the falling snow but they were easy enough for her to run on as long as she minded where she was going. Once she reached the lakes, and then the wooded areas beyond them, the land became more treacherous.

She did her best to keep a quick pace through the waves of snow. The unstable ground caused her to stumble and she'd grasp twigs and branches to keep from falling. She called his name in a loud, panicked voice.

The wind howled in her ears but otherwise the wooded area was silent. There was no rustle of animals or tweeting of birds. The absence of life frightened her. She moved cautiously and her breaths trembled from within her.

She missed the golden hue of light the town provided, her eyes now strained against the greying darkness. She knew the woods well enough, thankfully. She'd played in them for hours as a child during the summer months. She wound through the trees and up the hills. She judged where she was by the familiar sights of the gnarled old oak tree and the wilting willows where she'd swung on its low branches when she'd still been small and light enough to do so.

The freezing cold air whipped at her face and stung in her lungs. She blinked her frozen lashes against the icy flakes that hurt her eyes. Sharp, thorny branches slashed at her arms as though they were trying to stop her. She wouldn't give up until she found him. She had to find him. She didn't even know how long he'd been out here. She hadn't seen him all day; her father hadn't seen him since the morning. She just hoped she wasn't too late, and she prayed history wasn't repeating itself.

"Lucas!" She screamed his name into the quiet blackness. She listened hard for the reply that never came. She urged herself on despite the fact that her own fingers and cheeks were tingling with deathly cold.

She found the wood axe lying half buried on the ground. Her fingers came to rest on the smooth handle. He couldn't be far. She turned wildly, scanning the area and she cried out his name.

The faint sounds of murmuring echoed past the rustling twigs. She stood so very still, straining her ears and trying to control her thundering heart.

"Peyton," he groaned in a low, throaty voice. He lay in a heap against a large log. But thankfully he was alive. His hair and clothing was flecked with ice and snow, his lips had a blue tint but he was alive.

"Thank you," she whispered inwardly to the god she hadn't prayed to in years. She dashed over to him and collapsed down beside him. She'd feared the worst and she threw her arms around his neck. She'd never let him go again.

"Peyton, is that you?" he murmured.

"I'm so sorry," she stared into his beautiful eyes and her tears fell.

"For what?" He smiled gently at her. "I knew you'd come."

"Lucas I love you," her words came out in a rush. "I just got scared. But I love you. I'm in love with you."

Lucas reached a gloved hand to touch her face, "I know, it's alright. I love you too Peyton." He pressed his lips to hers in a soft, chaste kiss.

The sweetness of their reunion was short and she realised how freezing he was to her touch. His body was jerking and shaking violently against the cold. "We need to get you back to the hotel." Her brow crinkled, she had to act quickly. "Can you walk?"

"No, I fell on some branches," he told while he shook his head. "I hurt my leg. It feels numb." He'd tried but every time he even so much as tried to flex the limb it sparked with pain.

Her gaze moved down to his injured leg, which was twisted, and she guessed it was broken. She'd carry him if she had to. "We need to get you out of here."

"Go get your father. Go get help."

"No," she hesitated, she was afraid to leave him. She wouldn't leave him again. "I'll help you."

"I'm too heavy for you," he muttered dejectedly. "We'd never make it."

She bit her lip as she stared at him. His gaze wasn't entirely focused. It'd be too slow for her to leave and come back. She was scared it'd be too late for him. He may be right, but she had to try.

"I'm not leaving you," she said in a voice so laced with determination that she dared him to challenge her.

Peyton placed his arm around her shoulders and she pulled him awkwardly to his feet. He did his best to help her but his leg gave in to the stabs of pain and his body sagged against her. They moved on unsteadily. Her own breathes were becoming wheezy from the effects of the cold and the effort of carrying his weight. And despite Lucas's continued request for her to go on alone she continued to guide them through the forest.

She heard the shouts and the heavy steps. She could see the shining glow of lights moving towards them. She breathed a sigh of relief and she chanced a glance at Lucas. He looked far worse than he had done when she'd first found him. His skin was almost translucent but he still managed to smile a slurring smile.

The search party moved closer and they were soon upon them. The yellowing lamps caused Peyton's eyes to smart. Large, familiar figures moved forward and pulled Lucas from her. They supported his slumping form so easily as they lifted him. They wrapped Lucas's limp body in blankets before they carried him back to the hotel to tend to his leg.

Only her father remained before and Peyton felt some of her resolve wilt under his steely gaze.

"You could have died," Larry scolded. "How could you be so reckless?"

"Because I love him daddy."

Larry closed his mouth and didn't lecture her any further. He draped a thick woollen blanket over his daughter's slender shoulders before he embraced her. He'd done the exact same thing for Anna, eight years ago. He'd led a search party into the snow because he couldn't bear to sit and do nothing knowing his wife was out there and in harm's way. He hadn't been lucky but he'd had to at least try. Thankfully the man Peyton loved hadn't met the same fate as his wife had done.

"Lets get you home," he said gently and Peyton nodded.

"He's going to be alright isn't he?" she asked unsurely as she fell into step beside him.

"I'll have the best physician in the town tend to him. He'll be fine."

-x-x-x-

Lucas sat on the arm chair in front of a roaring fire in the hotel's lounge. He was wrapped in swaths of woollen blankets. His injured leg was thickly bandaged in white gauze and was propped up by a foot rest. His other bare foot was soaking in a bowl of hot water. He would be fine the village doctor had informed him. He needed to rest and have plenty of hot meals and drinks. His ankle was broken, he wouldn't be able to walk unaided or work for several weeks.

He watched the flakes continue to fall from the skies. He knew he was lucky to be alive and he had only one person to thank for that. He felt better; the tingling, icy sensation had left the tips of his fingers and toes. As he watched the embers crackle at the base of the fire place he felt his heavy lids begin to droop.

The sound of Peyton returning to the lounge caused him to stir awake and he lifted his wary head. He smiled at her. She'd bathed and changed into warm, fresh clothes but she had refused to go to bed. She was too worried about him.

"You should drink this," Peyton offered him a cup of hot, sweet tea.

"Thank you," he took the drink from her gladly. She'd made him so many now that he'd lost count. She hadn't stopped fussing since the doctor had left. But he drank it in just two gulps anyway. The liquid trickled, warm and welcome, down his throat before he placed the empty china on the table beside him.

"Would you like another?" she asked eagerly.

"No, but come sit with me," he asked, giving her a sweet smile and patting the cushioned seat.

Peyton gladly moved to curl next to him on the plush seat. She rested her head lightly at his chest, burying her face in his sweater and inhaling the smell of fresh wool and ash. His arm moved to encircle her and he pressed a kiss to the top of her golden head.

"How are you feeling?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" she asked lifting her head from its place against his heart. She looked up into his eyes and traced his warmer cheek. The heat and colour had slowly returned to his features though he still looked tired and not entirely himself.

"It's been a rough night," he explained. "I'm allowed to worry about you." She seemed fine. He knew Larry had ensured the doctor checked on her while he was still here. But there was something hidden just behind those lovely green eyes of her.

"I'm perfectly fine," she stated with a smile, but that look still remained.

"I knew you'd come for me," he said gratefully, holding her close.

She smiled sadly, "how could I not?" She would never have forgiven herself if she'd sat inside the hotel and done nothing to help him.

"Tell me what's wrong." He hooked his fingers beneath her chin.

She lowered her gaze, her thick lashes concealing her eyes from him, hiding her onset of tears. It made it so much worse that he seemed more worried over her when he should be concerned with himself.

"Tell me," he prompted again.

"I thought I lost you tonight," she murmured her greatest fear, the one she'd held on to for far too long. "And I know it's silly because you're going to be fine. It's just..."

"Shh," Lucas brushed the stray tear from her cheek. "I'm never going to leave you."

She blinked away the heat of more tears threatening to spill. "Good," she uttered, "Because I couldn't bear it."

"You won't have to. I promise."

She snuggled in closer; she knew she could believe in him. "It's been quite the evening," she said.

"It has. Back there in the woods," he began a little tentatively. She come out from the darkness, looking like a perfect angel with her golden curls. "You said that...Well..."

She tilted her head so her eyes locked with his own. "I told you that I loved you. And I meant it with every breath I took. I love you and I'm going to love you forever."

Lucas stroked his fingers gently along her fine jaw and he smiled. "I love you too."

"Everything's alright now," he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm going to heal and then we're going be happy."

"I like that sound of that." She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. To start afresh, with a new outlook on life and love in her heart, sounded so wonderful.

It started in that moment; the snow began to fall on Christmas morning and Peyton smiled. She felt safe and warm. She leaned into Lucas and they watched the large flakes cover the grounds and trees. The village was covered in its white, glittered blanket. Peyton felt different as she gazed at it, she would be able to start a new life. This blank canvas was something she could do whatever she liked with. She could finally be whatever she wanted to be and she felt a freedom in that knowledge. She could even find herself loving the Christmas season as it brought her love and the boy that would do anything for her.

---

Peyton stirred herself awake early that Christmas morning. Her stomach was unsettled and churning from the effects of the pregnancy. Her back and neck ached from falling asleep in an awkward position on the couch. She rubbed the taut skin of her stomach lightly and felt the fluttering of life beneath her touch. Little Isabelle, their unborn baby girl kicked against her palm. She couldn't help but smile at the small, stirring miracle.

Her gaze moved to the window. The skies were dark and the snow was still falling thick and heavy. She lifted her head from its place against the sofa's arm and she rubbed at her sore and stiff neck. One glance at the mantel clock told her it was 4.a.m. She'd fallen asleep with her cell at her side, and the TV still sat blaring with the news channel. The flights across the country were still cancelled due to the bad weather.

Peyton sighed heavily, standing up, and she picked up the plate and the empty glass. She moved to the kitchen and set the half eaten cookies on the counter. She smiled thinly, she'd even saved him some; she'd hoped idly that he'd be home despite everything.

She hugged her long knitted cardigan tightly around her body, and stifled the creeping sobs that threatened to spill. They'd never been apart at Christmas; they'd always celebrated it as a family.

She trailed back across the silent hall and crept into her daughter's room. Sawyer was curled tightly and surrounded by her dishevelled blankets. She was hugging her blue dragon Draco, whilst still sleeping soundly, lost and content in her dream world. With her little mouth open and her small fists curled around the plush toy, Sawyer still looked like the tiny baby Peyton had first brought home from the hospital.

The sight tugged at Peyton's heart. Sawyer's sweet innocence made her want to give her daughter everything the world had to offer. With her mother-in-law and Lucas's baby sister visiting in the morning and Nathan, Haley and Jamie coming over for dinner, she'd see that her daughter had a wonderfully, special day.

She pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's delicate cheek before she moved to their bedroom. To the large, empty bed that she had all to herself. She pulled Lucas's fraying, grey sweat top into her grasp; she'd been sleeping in it for the past couple of night because it still smelled of him. She lay on the mattress, burrowing behind the cool covers. She was still a little sleepy and she figured she would be able to get an hour's rest before Sawyer woke up and wanted to open her gifts. Her lids fell quickly shut against the first rays of a gold-pinkish light.

It didn't take long for her to drift off. She was dreaming, the front door clicked open and she could soon hear the quiet but still creaking steps towards her room. The sound of that one darn floorboard that Lucas still managed to stand on despite his best efforts not to. She shifted and turned amongst the covers to the warm, welcome touch of his oh-so familiar fingers brushing against her face.

"Luke?" She murmured his name and her lashes blinked at the brightness of the morning's sun.

"Hey, good morning sleepy head." He pressed his lips to her cheek as she stirred into consciousness.

"Hi," Peyton drawled with her slight southern twang. She didn't quite believe that she was looking into those beautiful crystal eyes of his. She shifted against the satin bed covers and studied him with bleary eyes. She wasn't even sure if she was awake or still dreaming. "You're here."

"How are you feeling?" He rested his hand delicately on Peyton's rounded, swollen baby bump. She was getting bigger now, when he'd left for the tour she'd barely been showing.

"We're all fine." She straightened up in the bed. She stared at him in disbelief and didn't speak another word. He had flakes of white snow laced in his short hair and his lashes. But he was there with her. She cupped his perfect line chiseled jaw in her hands and pressed her lips to his in a long, welcome home kiss.

"I'm glad to hear it." Truth be told, he hadn't stopped worrying about his girls the whole time he'd been gone. But that was who he was, the protective husband and father, and he wouldn't change it.

"You're really home? This isn't a dream?"

"I'm home."

"But how?" She knew all flights from New York were still suspended, she'd been checking over and over.

"Well I met a very nice truck driver while I was checking into my hotel," Lucas explained. "The lobby was crazy with people who couldn't get their flights. Anyways we got to talking and he offered me a ride."

"You hitched a ride?" Peyton chuckled at his resourcefulness.

"I didn't want to spend Christmas alone in a hotel room or stuck at the airport," Lucas explained with a shrug. "And I didn't want to not be with my beautiful girls. So I took a chance."

She laughed, "I'm so glad you did. I missed you Mr Scott."

"I missed you too, Mrs Sawyer Scott."

"So are you just going to stand there or what?" she chastised whilst pulling back the bed clothes and tugging his hand so he'd lie beside her.

Lucas let a low murmur escape from his lips as he settled beside her. He missed her so much. He caught his beautiful wife up in his arms as his joy only swelled within him. Their lips meet for a sweet kiss before she rested her head against his chest. He cuddled her close to him, to confirm to them both, this was real and not a dream.

"Luke, you're freezing," she uttered as an after-thought while she touched her hand to his cold cheek. "Do you want me to make you some tea? Or run you a hot bath?"

"I'm fine where I am."He pulled her in for another long kiss. After the long hours spent on a truck with no heating, navigating bumpy and treacherous roads this was exactly where he wanted to be. He deepened their embrace; weeks of not being able to touch her, and her thickening locks and her fuller, curvier figure all got the better of him.

"Merry Christmas," she replied in a short, fading breath once they've pulled apart. She can feel that heat tingling in her cheeks. After five years of marriage he still had the power to make her blush and she hoped that would never change.

"Merry Christmas," he pecked the tip of her button nose before she reached up for another kiss. He indulged in another long kiss before she snuggled into the warm, security of his strong arms.

"This is nice," she whispered and she heard him chuckle from deep within his throat. "What?" Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head to look at him.

"You found it?" Lucas's eyes moved to fix on the bedside table and Peyton's gaze trailed to the small pile of written words.

"Sawyer had me read it to her last night," she explained. "She said you read it to her every year."

"So what did you think?" It still seemed strange to him that while his works were available to the vast populations of the US, he always felt the pangs of nervousness when it came to his friends and family reading his words.

"I think," she said playing with the silk tie he still wore around his neck, the 'lucky' tie she'd bought him especially for the tour. "I think that you were always the man to make me believe in fairy-tales."

"Cheesy," he only half joked and she laughed.

"I know but I love you Lucas Scott." He'd healed her heart and had made her life happy again.

"I love you too," he nuzzled at that tender spot of her throat.

"Luke," she whispered, even his gentlest of touches stirred her deepest want and desire. She heard the unmistakable growl escape his throat and her hand came to touch at his perfectly sculpted chest. She wanted to, as much as he did. But her trained ears prickled with the sounds of their daughter tip-toeing out of her room. Her hand pushed against his chest and she begrudgingly nudged him away. "Tonight," she promised.

"I'll hold you to that," Lucas said with a quick peck to her lips and devilish smile.

He moved quickly and quietly from the bed while they could both hear the patter of Sawyer's small feet on the floor boards. He moved to behind their bedroom door to surprise the five year old. "Shh," Lucas put a finger to his lips.

"Morning baby," Peyton stifled a yawn as she played along with her childish husband's game. "Come give me a hug."

Sawyer smiled and pattered forwards. She barely made it inside the room before she was enveloped in her father's arms. She squealed and was effortlessly scooped up from her feet.

"Merry Christmas Button." The sound of her father's gruff voice uttering the nickname, the one he'd given her because of her perfect button nose, had her giggle.

"Daddy!" She called out in surprise and excitement. She pressed her little kiss to his stubbly cheek. "Momma, Daddy's home."

"Yes he is," Peyton said, smiling brightly at the infectious grin etched across Sawyer's face and the shining pride Lucas held whilst cuddling their daughter close to his chest.

"Come here," Lucas encouraged and outstretched his arm in invitation. Peyton moved to stand with her family and Lucas enveloped her into his hold.

"I want to open the presents," Sawyer announced.

"Oh you do, do you?" Lucas flashed a wide, enthusiastic grin. He lifted her up higher in his arms, causing her to giggle and hold on to him tighter. "And what makes you think, Sawyer Scott, that Santa has left you any presents under the tree?"

"He has," she chirped mischievously. "I already looked."

"He has, has he? Well maybe daddy should tell Santa that he should take them all back," Lucas teased his daughter but she only laughed more.

"Please daddy," Sawyer cooed and she gave a flutter of her golden lashes.

"Only if your momma says it's alright," Lucas told her with a wide grin.

"Momma?" came a hopeful voice and Peyton nodded without a moment's thought. She watched her husband carry their little girl away as she cheered excitedly.

Peyton shrugged her cardigan back over her shoulders. She'd never believed in happily ever afters, fairy-tales and princesses; she just hadn't been that girl growing up. And yet, luck, fate and destiny had all conspired together to bring her Lucas and her two daughters. All her wishes and dreams had come true; to bring her the life she'd always secretly yearned for.

"Momma hurry up," Sawyer called from the lounge.

"Yes Peyt, hurry up."

Peyton chuckled to herself. He was normally so calm and sensible, but Lucas could be the biggest kid when he wanted to be. She loved him for that.

"Coming." She moved from the bedroom and found them sitting under the twinkling tree. She lowered herself down to the carpeted floor, to snuggle against Lucas, while Sawyer's eagar hands rummaged through the many gifts. She sighed in utter contentment. She was the luckiest girl in the world because she was surrounded by the family and friends that meant everything to her.

---

Final note, I am currently working on updates for Protected and You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory. I know I'm not a fast updater and am trying to change that, but these stories are not abandoned.