Читать книгу Jingle Bell Blessings - Bonnie K. Winn - Страница 10

The fire was dying down and their cups of cocoa were empty. Chloe had read three of Jimmy’s books, told him several of her favorite stories and he was finally nodding off. It had been an eternally long day for her. She could only imagine how it had tired him. But the little guy didn’t complain. Instead, he had cuddled close on the chaise, listening to the stories, and trying to stay awake.

Certain that he was ready for bed, she scooped him up from the lounger.

“I’m not sleepy,” he mumbled, his head falling on her shoulder.

“I know, big guy. We’ll just rest for a while.” Chloe carried him through the adjoining door into the nursery. Thelma had made up both the child’s bed and the single bed nearby. Chloe gently deposited him on the smaller bed. Then she grabbed his stuffed dog, Elbert, and laid it close. Pulling the sheet and handmade quilt up to his chin, she kept her voice low. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

Jimmy’s eyelids were drifting closed, but he struggled to keep them open. “Don’t go.”

“Okay.” She sat on the edge of his bed, softly singing one of the Irish lullabies her mother had sung to her when she was little.

Chloe hummed the chorus again, watching until finally the gentle rise and fall of his chest told her that Jimmy had nodded off. Quietly she returned to her room, leaving the door to the nursery open. Warmed by the dwindling fire, she crossed over to the bay window. Old-fashioned streetlights—that she guessed had been converted from oil—softly illuminated the brick-paved street below. She hadn’t imagined such quaint places still existed. As she studied the engaging landscape, she spotted a lone figure walking up the lane. When the man reached the Mitchell home he turned and headed to the tall oak on the knolled rise of the lawn.

Unable to take her eyes from the man, she glimpsed his face when he stepped beside the gas light in the yard. Evan Mitchell. She shouldn’t be surprised. After all, it was his home. Continuing to watch, she saw him sit on a stone bench that curved around the tree. Evan just didn’t seem like the sort of man to take solitary nighttime walks. Fleetingly she wondered if he was cold.

Not that it should matter to her. His behavior had been utterly frigid. Still, she wondered why he sat alone, what drove him out in the chilly night. Wisps of clouds drifted, allowing some moonlight to filter downward. Evan looked up in the direction of the light. His expression was so bleak, Chloe’s hand flew to her mouth to stop an automatic cry of distress. What was troubling him so deeply?

Not that he would confide in her. Nor should she want him to. Evan was the enemy, the man who decided Jimmy’s fate. But the part of her that always reached out to others refused to stay quiet. Was it possible that Evan had issues that she needed to learn? Issues he had to resolve before accepting a child in his life?

The questions stilled. Because Evan Mitchell dropped his head in his hands. And Chloe couldn’t intrude on his private moment any longer.

Even though the soft feather bed was incredibly comfortable, Chloe couldn’t sleep. Literally tossing and shifting in the bed, she’d twisted the sheets and lace crocheted coverlet into a tangled mess. But sleep was impossible with the mass of conflicting thoughts racing through her mind. Hearing a sudden cry, she bolted upright. Remembering the small set of wooden stairs beside the mattress for climbing in and out of the tall bed, she clicked on her lamp so she could find them. Untangling herself from the covers, she grabbed her robe and raced into the adjoining room.

Jimmy was sitting up in the bed, looking terrified.

Immediately, Chloe reached out to pull him into her arms. Rocking him back and forth, she imparted all the comfort she possessed. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’re safe. I’m right here.” He shook with a convulsed sob and Chloe’s eyes filled. If only she could take his pain for him. Rubbing his back, she held him until he was finally still. Pulling back slightly, she smoothed the dark hair from his forehead. “Was it a dream?”

He nodded, a jerky motion. “And when I woke up I didn’t know where I was.”

“I wasn’t having much luck sleeping either. I’d probably go to sleep faster if I wasn’t alone.” She rubbed her chin as though in deep concentration. “Do you suppose I could sleep on the extra bed in here? It would really help me out.”

This time when he nodded, he looked up at her with relief in his big brown eyes.

She eased the tears from his cheeks with her fingers. “I know I’ll feel safe in here with you.”

He sniffled.

“Okay, better get that bug snug again.” He dutifully laid back down and she tucked him in. “If it wouldn’t keep you awake, I’d kind of like to keep the little light on.”

“It’s okay,” he agreed gratefully.

She smoothed his hair once more. “Thanks.”

Climbing into the bed she guessed once belonged to a nanny, Chloe actually did feel better. She had been worried about Jimmy being alone, frightened in the strange house. She smoothed the blanket in place, leaving her arms out. Now, if she could just get Evan Mitchell out of her thoughts. Sighing, she realized that wouldn’t be nearly as easy.

Early morning sunlight invaded Chloe’s face. Scrunching her eyes, she reached for the sheet to cover them. Awareness hit at the same instant. Immediately, she looked at Jimmy’s bed. It was empty. Fear filled her chest. Surely he hadn’t run away. He didn’t know anyone in Rosewood.

Blinking, she focused again and saw his pajamas thrown across the bed. Next to them was his stuffed dog, Elbert. Jimmy wouldn’t have left his treasured friend behind.

Although reassured, she dressed quickly so she could look for him. Evan Mitchell wouldn’t welcome a curious, roaming child in his house.

Once downstairs, she headed toward the kitchen, but paused when she heard voices in the dining room. Walking slowly, she approached the group.

“You must be Chloe,” a gray-haired man boomed in a deep voice. He stood up, keeping Jimmy close to his side.

“I’m Gordon Mitchell, Evan’s father. Sure pleased to have you here.”

Surreptitiously glancing around, she didn’t see Evan, and relaxed. “Thank you.”

Thelma poured another mug of coffee and handed it to Chloe. “Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Very well, thanks. It’s a beautiful room.” She glanced at Gordon. “A beautiful house.”

“Too empty, though.” He patted Jimmy’s shoulder. “Need some young energy to fill it up again.”

Unwilling to discuss Evan’s refusal in front of Jimmy, Chloe sipped the bracing brew.

Jimmy knelt down. “Did you see the dog, Chloe?”

A calm golden retriever seemed delighted by Jimmy’s attention, waving a beautifully plumed tail and pushing his muzzle into Jimmy’s hand.

“I don’t remember seeing him yesterday,” she mused.

“Bailey was with me,” Gordon explained. “Hunting. But he pined for Evan the whole time.”

“He’s Evan’s dog?” Chloe asked in surprise.

“Bailey’s usually camped out by Evan’s side, clinging like thistle. Jimmy’s pretty special to have tempted him away.”

“French toast this morning.” Thelma winked at Jimmy.

“Thought I might find somebody who’d like it.”

“Sounds great.” Chloe slipped into a chair. “How did your hunting trip go, Mr. Mitchell?”

“Best part of it is the guys. We tell the same stories we’ve told each other for the last fifty years, and now that we’re getting on, some of ’em even sound new again.” His dark eyes crinkled with kindness.

Although she could see the resemblance between the two generations of men, Gordon exuded warmth, friendliness. Chloe wanted to relax, but she was still facing a major confrontation.

The thought apparently conjured up the man in question. Evan stalked into the room, crossing over to the sideboard to pour a mug of coffee. Bailey jumped up and ran to his side. Evan rubbed the dog’s head. As he did, Evan turned, his gaze narrowing first on Chloe, then Jimmy and finally his father.

Thelma pushed open the door from the kitchen, holding a large platter. She placed the French toast in the middle of the table. “Eat it while it’s hot.”

Chloe turned to Jimmy. “Looks good, doesn’t it?” Hoping Evan wouldn’t open with an argument, she speared one piece.

Gordon passed the pitcher of warm syrup. “Thelma dusts the toast in powdered sugar, but I still like my maple syrup. How ’bout you, Jimmy?”

“I like syrup,” he replied in a tiny voice.

Knowing Jimmy was nervous, she patted his leg. “Me, too.”

Evan continued to stare at his father.

Gordon met his son’s gaze, his voice deceptively casual. “I was just about to invite Chloe and Jimmy to stay for a while. Won’t be long ’til Thanksgiving. Holidays are always better with children, more family.”

A vein in Evan’s muscular neck bulged, while his lips thinned into an angry line. He pushed back his chair, scraping it loudly over the wide planked floor as he rose. “I have to get to work.”

His boots rang loudly as he left, and the sound of the door slamming echoed through the house. Bailey whined, then laid down next to the front door, apparently waiting for his master.

“Did I make him mad?” Jimmy asked in an even smaller voice.

“Of course not!” Chloe rushed to reassure him. “He probably has problems at work that are on his mind, that’s all.” She glanced at Gordon. “It’s a family business, isn’t it?”

Gordon nodded. “Mitchell Stone. My great-grandfather started the quarry with not much more than a land claim and a box of dynamite. A few men agreed to work with him in exchange for shares in the company. A lot of their descendants are fourth-generation employees now.”

Chloe glanced upward at the elegant chandelier, just one of the impressive fixtures in the obviously expensive home. “So your family built all this up themselves?”

He chuckled softly. “First house wasn’t much more than a tar shack. The way I heard it, my great-grandmother threatened to dig enough stone out of the quarry herself to build a decent house. But in time, they built a small wood cottage—it’s the carriage house we use for a garage now.”

“I think Thelma mentioned that you’re retired?”

“Yep. Evan’s in charge now.”

Chloe swallowed, hating to pry, but needing to know as much as possible about Evan. “Is that a good thing?”

“He lives and breathes work. Since the recession, Evan’s done everything he can to keep the place together so no one loses their jobs. It’s a Mitchell trait, I suppose.” Gordon absently tapped his fingers against the tabletop. “Feeling responsible. Can’t let go when…”

Chloe waited quietly.

But Gordon glanced up, reined in his memories and lifted a mug of coffee. “So, it’s settled. You and Jimmy will stay here. I’d like to show you around town. See the school, the church. People are friendly in Rosewood. Not much like a big city.”

“Milwaukee’s not small, but it is down to earth,” Chloe replied. “Kind of the best between a small town and a big city.”

“You have family there?”

Chloe nodded, thinking of her mother, worrying about her.

“My father passed away when I was in junior high school. My younger brother, Chip, is in the army—he and his family are stationed in Germany. And my mother lives in an extended care facility. She has COPD—it’s a chronic pulmonary condition. Because of it, she can’t live on her own. If she had a bad episode and no one was around, it could be…” she glanced down at Jimmy, then up to meet the understanding in Gordon’s eyes. “Since I work full-time, it’s safest where she is.”

“Much extended family?”

“They all live pretty far away in the rural part of the state. But Milwaukee still clings to its ethnic roots. We have areas that are primarily German, Romanian, Hungarian. Makes neighborhoods friendly.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Rosewood has neighborhoods like that?”

He smiled. “Pretty much the whole town. We’re a dying breed, but we don’t cotton to superstores, tourist traps. So far, we’ve been able to keep them out. The news always says mom-and-pop businesses can’t survive, but they do here.” Gordon chuckled. “Sounds like I’m about a century old with my reminiscing.”

Chloe was liking him more and more. “I noticed the town was pretty when we were driving through.” She lowered her lashes, trying to hide some of her anxiety from Jimmy. “But I was too nervous…driving in an unfamiliar rental car to pay very much attention.”

“Then we need to take care of that.” He turned to Jimmy, who was adding even more syrup to his plate. “What do you say? After breakfast, we check things out?”

Jimmy appeared shy but pleased.

While she was looking forward to their tour, Chloe didn’t know how it was going to help matters. The look in Evan’s eyes that morning had said it all. He wasn’t about to change his mind.

Evan studied the latest financial report. Mitchell Stone was sinking as though pummeled by its own boulders.

Perry Perkin, their chief financial officer, shoved both hands in his pockets. “Numbers won’t get any better by staring at them.”

“Yeah.” But he had to turn around the profits. The employees depended on him, most were like family. “Construction business is picking up. Got two new orders this week.”

“Small ones. Evan, you know they aren’t going to carry the payroll.”

“Recession hit everyone, Perry. It’ll take time for bigger deals to roll in.” Mitchell Stone had operations all over the hill country and in other parts of the state. Even though most of Texas hadn’t been hit as hard by the recession as the rest of the country, new construction was still down. And many of their orders had been national as well as international, customers that still remained on shaky ground. “We’ll make the payroll.”

“If you keep putting your personal money in the business, you’ll tank when it does.”

“If, not when.” Evan plowed his fingers through his hair, then looked out the window at Main Street. “You know we’ve had our offices in this building more than a century. My great-grandfather didn’t want to confine himself to one quarry, so he insisted on having an office right in the middle of town. That’s why he kept looking for more sources, staking more claims all his life. Then my grandfather and my father. And there was a little thing called the Great Depression that happened along the way. But Mitchell Stone never closed its doors. I don’t intend to let it happen on my watch.”

Perry was empathetic but realistic. “You know as well as I do, that the first decade of this millennium wasn’t hit by just a recession. It was a depression.”

“Plattville is accepting bids next month on their new courthouse. If we can get a lock on who wins the job…” Speculating, Evan knew Mitchell Stone would be one of dozens interested in supplying the limestone.

Perry sighed. “Look, I’ve got some savings. More than my shares in the company. I’ll cut my salary down to just enough to cover my health insurance.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I’m in charge of payroll. Be pretty hard to stop me. And, I can just about guarantee that everybody else would understand a cut in pay. In fact, they would support the idea, so we don’t have to close.”

“No. Let’s take it slow. Holidays are just about here. I’m not taking Christmas dinner out of any mouths.”

“You’re a good man, Evan.” Perry sighed. “I’m just not sure you know when to say no.”