Read Online Simply Unforgettable by Mary Balogh - Free Book Online

to be allowed any bread or potatoes with his meals for the next year. He is disgustingly obese.”
    â€œHe is cuddly,” she said, tipping her head to one side to survey her unfinished creation, “and good-natured. He is not cadaverous like some snowmen I have seen. He does not look as if he will blow over in the first puff of wind. He is—”
    â€œHeadless,” he said, “as is mine. Let us get back to work and resume the name-calling afterward.”
    Her poor snowman looked even more obese after she had fixed a nice round head on his shoulders. The head was too small. She tried to pack more snow about it, but it fell off in clumps about his shoulders, and she had to be content with picking out the two largest coals they had brought from the kitchen with them so that she could at least give him large, soulful eyes. She added a somewhat smaller coal nose and a fat carrot to act as his pipe and a few more small coals for coat buttons. With one forefinger she sculpted a wide and smiling mouth about the carrot.
    â€œAt least,” she said, stepping back, “he has a sense of humor. And at least he
has
a head.”
    She looked down with a smirk at the massive one he had sculpted on the ground, complete with jug-handle ears and sausage curls.
    â€œThe contest is not over yet,” he said. “There was no time limit, was there? It would be somewhat premature to start jeering yet. You might feel foolish afterward.”
    She saw then that he was not as ignorant of the laws of gravity as she had assumed. He spent some time on the shoulders of his snowman, scooping out a hollow to hold the head so that it would not roll off. Of course, he still had to get the head up there.
    She watched smugly as he stooped to pick it up.
    But she had reckoned without his superior height and the strength of those arm muscles. What would have been an impossibility for her looked like child’s play for him. He even had the strength to hold the head suspended over the torso for a few moments so that he could get it at just the right angle before lowering it into place. He selected the coals and carrot he wanted and pressed them into place—though he used his carrot for a nose. And then he reached into one of the pockets of his greatcoat and drew out a long, narrow knitted scarf in a hideous combination of pink and orange stripes and wrapped it about the neck of his snowman.
    â€œThe vicar’s wife in my grandfather’s parish presented it to me for Christmas,” he said. “General opinion in the village has it that she is color-blind. I think general opinion must have the right of it. It is kinder than saying she has no taste at all, anyway.”
    He stepped back and stood beside Frances. Together they contemplated their creations.
    â€œThe scarf and the curls and the lopsided mouth save yours from looking mean and humorless,” she said generously. “Not to mention those ears. Oh, and those pockmarks are meant to be
freckles
. That is a nice touch, I must confess. I like him after all.”
    â€œAnd I must admit to a fondness for Friar Tuck with his black coat buttons,” he said. “He looks like a jolly old soul, though I do not know what holds his pipe in his mouth if he is smiling so broadly.”
    â€œHis teeth.”
    â€œAh,” he said. “Good point. We forgot to appoint a judge.”
    â€œAnd to have a trophy awaiting the winner,” she said.
    It was only then, when he turned his head to grin at her, that she realized he had one arm draped about her shoulders in a relaxed, comradely gesture. She guessed that he had only just realized it himself. The smiles froze on their faces, and Frances’s knees felt suddenly weak.
    He slipped his arm free, cleared his throat, and wandered closer to the snowmen.
    â€œI suppose,” he said, “we might as well declare the competition a draw. Agreed? If we do not, we will get into a scrap again and