Читать книгу Abby's Christmas - Lynnette Kent - Страница 9

NOAH MISSED BREAKFAST. After finally falling asleep as the sun came up, he stumbled into the kitchen at ten to find a pot of cold coffee and his mother’s note.

“Drs appt. Back sometime.”

“Love you, too,” he told her. He had no business feeling resentful, since he was the one who’d been gone for fifteen years. A warm welcome was the last thing he deserved.

Especially a welcome like the kind Abby had offered last night.

He groaned and rubbed the heels of his hands into his burning eyes. He’d put up with a lot of punishment in the last few years, but last night just hadn’t been fair. He shouldn’t have been required to turn down a generous, willing woman like Abby. He would have made sure she enjoyed the night as much as he did. They both could be feeling pretty good this morning.

Instead, he felt like hell. Nothing new there. He flicked the switch for the coffeemaker to warm up, then bent over to rest his folded arms on the counter and hide his face from the bright light coming through the window. A hangover would be bearable. This ache inside him was too much.

The phone’s ring interrupted his pity party and Noah straightened up, reaching automatically for the place on the wall where the phone hung. His hand met air, then wall. No phone.

“Damn.” He tracked the noise into the living room and pounced on a cordless model set up by his mother’s chair. “Hello? Hello?”

“Good morning, Noah. It’s Kate Bell. How are you today?”

Best to settle for a polite answer. “I’m good, Kate. How are you?”

“Just fine. But I have a little problem you could help me with, if you would.”

He dropped into the chair. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks so much. After your brilliant idea last night, Dixon volunteered to take some measurements in the gym to determine how large the painted panels should be. But when he volunteered, he forgot that he’s flying to Nashville this afternoon on business. Since he can’t be here, he wondered if you would take those measurements for him. We want to give people plenty of time to sign up and complete their paintings.”

“Nashville?”

“He writes songs—rock, country. You’ve probably heard them on the radio. Every so often, the folks in Nashville want to see him up there, and this is the week.”

“I’m impressed. You’ll have to give me a list of his songs. But—”

“He also wanted me to remind you that you’re expected at the basketball game Saturday morning. Seven o’clock.”

“I appreciate the offer. But—”

“I know Rob Warren will want to see you—y’all spent time together in high school, didn’t you? Rob’s just married a really lovely woman with two children. He was married to Leah Rodes—do you remember her?—but she died having their baby, Ginny. So it’s great that he’s found somebody to share his life again.”

“Sounds really nice, but—”

“Then I’ll tell Dixon to expect you on Saturday. And if you don’t mind, get those measurements to me as soon as possible. I’ve got a flyer ready to print and send out, as soon as I figure out the size of the panel.”

“I’ll get that done today, Kate. But—”

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate your help. I’ll give you a call soon and have you over for dinner. I’d love you to meet my children, Trace and Kelsey. Till later, then. Bye.”

She clicked off before he could say another word, but Noah continued to stare at the phone.

What had just happened? People like Kate Bowdrey and her sister had barely given him the time of day in high school—now all at once they wanted him to help out with their dance? Maybe Abby was behind this sudden friendliness, trying to make him fit in somehow.

He clenched his back teeth at the idea of being anybody’s charity project, especially Abby Brannon’s.

Then he remembered the welcome he’d received last night at the meeting, from Dixon and Adam and Pete. So, okay, Abby wasn’t trying to treat him like the stray dog she’d taken home and now wanted him to retrieve.

With a groan, Noah slammed the phone back in its cradle and headed for the shower. Kate had given him an assignment—measure the damn gym floor. There were other chores ahead of him, too, like checking in with his parole officer and his new boss.

Life hadn’t been this complex in a long time. Until three years ago, he’d done what he wanted, when he wanted, without consulting anybody else. In prison, he’d had no choices, so no complications. Now he was trying to do the right thing, not sure what the right thing really was.

If he’d expected coming back to be so tricky, he might have chosen to serve out his sentence. In jail, at least, he knew what he was in for.

Since he’d come “home,” he didn’t have a clue.

KATE SHUT OFF HER CELL PHONE and looked across the table. “I have never sounded like such an airhead in my life.”

Mary Rose grinned. “And I loved every second.”

“Oh, hush.” Kate pretended to frown at her sister. “I hate to strong-arm anybody, but I do think we owe Noah the opportunity to be part of the community. He didn’t get a fair break in high school—from the kids or the teachers, certainly not from Principal Floyd and the police. Dixon and I want to let him know we trust him.”

Beside Kate, Jacquie Lewellyn pushed her breakfast plate away. “I could tell last night—he expected pretty much the same treatment he got back then. Why are kids so cruel?” She sighed, then shook her head. “I hope I can count on Erin to behave better. In the meantime, we’ll just work on making Noah part of the gang. He won’t know what hit him until it’s too late, and by then he won’t be able to leave.”

“And won’t want to,” Mary Rose added. “That’s more important.”

Abby caught part of their comments as she brought fresh coffee and hot water for tea. “What schemes are y’all hatching this morning? Who’s leaving where?”

“Oh…I—I’m planning a surprise for Rhys,” Jacquie said. “A Christmas present.”

“What kind of present?” Abby rubbed her eyes with the back of her wrist as she poured more coffee into Kate’s mug. “And what’s it got to do with hitting?”

“Oh, no. No,” Jacquie said, blushing. “I was talking about boxing. Boxing lessons for when he gets tense and hard to live with.”

“I’m sure you’re not referring to me.” Rhys Lewellyn walked up to the table. Wearing riding breeches, tall boots and a blue sweater that matched his eyes, he was definitely the best-looking man in the diner at that moment. “Because there’s no one easier to get along with than I am.”

“Oh, of course.” Jacquie reached up to hold her husband’s hand. “There’s never been a cross word at our house—not even when Andrew decided to try out pierced ears.”

“I only said what I thought,” Rhys said, smiling.

“Along the lines of grounding him until the age of twenty-one.”

“A reasonable reaction, in my opinion, to earrings on my son.”

Abby smiled. “Spoken like a father. Charlie would have skinned me alive for doing something like that without permission. As a matter of fact, I never did get my ears pierced.” Her dad had been furious to find the dog on his sunporch last night, and he’d been prepared to rant about the problem for a good long time after Abby came home.

But she’d been so worn out, so sad, that she hadn’t added fuel to the fire. She’d drifted to her room and Charlie’s rage had leaked away.

“I remember last year when Erin dyed her hair red.” Jacquie shook her head as she slid out of the booth. “I have never been so pleased to see a haircut as when the last of that red hit the floor.”

Mary Rose and Kate got up, too, and soon said their goodbyes. Abby loved her friends, but she was very glad to see them leave this morning. They tended to understand without needing an explanation. Today, Abby had too much to hide.

Although nothing had actually happened between her and Noah. Really, it had just been a kiss. She had been kissed before, many times. After all, she was thirty-three years old.

But Noah’s kiss had been more than she’d ever known with any other man. More than she’d dreamed. And over so fast, she felt as if he’d slapped her.

She moved through the rest of the breakfast shift in a kind of daze, half smiling at the customers she knew, half conscious of their orders and the flow of business in the diner. The crowd gradually thinned, until she was actually alone in the place. Pouring herself a glass of iced tea, Abby slid into a booth where the sun warmed the green vinyl seat and propped her head on one hand to stare out the side window. A little caffeine and a few minutes off her feet seemed like heaven.

But it wasn’t to be. The doorbell jingled, announcing someone who wanted a late breakfast. Dredging up a smile, she looked across the dining room into Noah’s distant gaze.

He cleared his throat. “Hi.”

She didn’t have the first idea of what to say, so she just stared.

He looked away, and then back at her face. “Could I get a cup of coffee?”

Abby felt too weary to stand up, but she pressed her palms into the tabletop to push herself to her feet. “Of course.”

At that moment, Charlie came out of the kitchen. He leaned back against the service counter with his arms crossed over his big chest, the marine tattoo on his hand clearly visible.

“What can I do for you?”

Noah held the gaze of the man across the room, but it took more will than he wanted to admit. Despite a bum leg earned while tangling with a land mine in Vietnam, Charlie Brannon was not a guy to mess with. Back in high school, Noah had known better than to come within sighting distance of Charlie if he had something to hide.

Just like he should have known better today. “Good morning, Mr. Brannon. I thought I’d get a cup of coffee.”

Charlie looked him up and down but didn’t budge. “What are you doing back in town?”

“I came to see my mother, that’s all.”

“You waited long enough.”

Not having an answer for that one, Noah shrugged.

“And when you do show up, you palm off a mongrel that kept me up all night whining. God only knows where that dog’s been. But now he’s in my house.”

“I…” He glanced at Abby for some help. She was staring at him with her chin up, her eyes defensive, her fists clenched.

In the second that their eyes stayed connected, hers melted. She closed her eyes and shook her head, then got to her feet.

“I told you, Dad, that I wanted the dog. Noah didn’t impose anything on you. Or me.”

Which was an outright lie. Noah remembered those minutes in the kitchen last night. He’d imposed a hell of a lot on Abby and would have been glad to extend the damage.

Charlie snorted, as if he knew the truth. Maybe Abby had told him?

Noah waited, prepared to die.

But Abby’s dad just turned to the coffeepot. “I’m not happy having you in here. But, hell, your dollar’s as good as the next guy’s.” He set a filled mug down on the counter. “Drink up.” With a shrug, Charlie returned to the kitchen.

Thanks didn’t seem necessary. Charlie wouldn’t care if he was polite. As Noah went toward the counter, Abby moved in the same direction. They ended up facing each other across the long, stainless-steel surface.

“How is your mom this morning?”

“She went to the doctor. I haven’t seen her yet.” He sipped at the strong, hot coffee, digging up words. “Did the dog really whine all night?”

Abby nodded. She sure looked like she hadn’t slept much—her face was pale, her eyes tired. Under the white button-down shirt, her shoulders weren’t as straight as they’d been yesterday.

The dog might be part of her problem. But after a sleepless night himself, he suspected she’d had other reasons to lie awake.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Meeting Abby’s gaze took even more courage than confronting Charlie.

“The dog, you mean?”

“And…other things.” He wasn’t about to go into details with Charlie in the building.

She looked in every direction but his. “No apologies necessary. It wasn’t your fault. Just come get the dog, and everything will be okay.”

“I can’t take the dog.” He seized the chance to argue about something practical. “You saw my mother yesterday. She won’t have a dog anywhere near the house.” Noah couldn’t help grinning. “And when it comes to a knockdown, drag-out fight, I’m betting on my mother over your dad.”

Abby’s full lips twitched in an almost-smile. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He took another draw of coffee while she wiped the counter down and then adjusted the drape of red beads on the fake Christmas tree at the far end. For a few minutes, there was actually peace in the air.

Until she glanced at him from the other end of the counter. “So when will you come get the dog?”

“What am I gonna do with the dog if I get it?”

“What did you think you were going to do with it when you brought it with you?”

An uncomfortable question. “I didn’t think,” Noah admitted. “I only knew I wouldn’t let a gang of kids kill him just because they could.” He waited a beat. “Why can’t you take care of him?”

“What makes you think I want the dog?”

“Don’t you?”

She blew out a breath. “Whether I do or not doesn’t matter. It’s Charlie’s house. He makes the rules and he wants the dog gone.”

“Well, what the hell are you doing still living with your dad, anyway?” That question had been one of many bothering him last night. “You’re an adult—you should be out on your own.”

Abby froze in the act of refilling a napkin canister and stared at the man across the counter. He looked fierce, formidable. She was suddenly very aware of the strength in his hands and arms, the tension in his every move that spoke of experiences she didn’t know, couldn’t imagine.

“You don’t have the right to ask me that question.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “You don’t know anything about me. You never did, never wanted to.” Slamming the napkin holder onto the counter, she crumpled the empty napkin wrapper in her hands. “Leave a dollar by the register when you go.”

“Abby—” Noah stretched out a hand.

But she’d had all she could take for the morning. Ignoring the gesture and the tenderness in his voice, she stomped into the kitchen and back to the office behind it, slamming the door for good measure. Then she plopped down in the desk chair and clutched her hands in her hair, pulling until tears burned her eyes.

He might have been gone a long, long time, but as far as she could tell, Noah Blake was just as hard to handle as he had been fifteen years ago. Why in the world had she spent even one moment hoping for anything else?

WALKING INTO NEW SKYE HIGH was a lot like walking into a Georgia correctional institution for the first time. Noah took a deep breath, but there didn’t seem to be enough air to fill his lungs. He glanced behind him, just to be sure there were no chains on the door, no bars on the windows.

In the front office, he introduced himself to the young woman at the desk, someone he didn’t know.

“That’s right,” she said with a flirtatious smile. “Dixon Bell called just a few minutes ago to say you’d be coming in his place. Since he’d already spoken to Mr. Floyd about visiting the gym, I don’t think there’s any problem with you going on down there.” She nodded toward the closed door on her right, with its Principal Floyd sign. “He’s in conference with parents and a student. If you’d like to wait—”

“No, that’s okay.” Noah hid his appalled reaction to the idea of meeting the principal. “I’ll just walk down, do my job, then clear out.” He gave her the smile she wanted. “Thanks for your help.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” As he reached the door, she said, “Are you sure you know the way? I could take you to the gym.”

Another smile, not quite so friendly. “I remember the way.” He stepped out before she could try again.

The bell for changing classes rang above his head—had it always been so loud? The halls filled with bodies and noise as kids exploded from every doorway. Noah passed through the crowd like a ghost, without really being seen. At the gym door, he met a swell of students pouring out of their daily class, their relief demonstrated by the rush. Standing to the side, waiting for the hall to clear, Noah reflected that he’d always liked gym class, welcomed the chance to blow off steam. He’d been good at sports, but never had the grades to make a team.

Which pretty much summed up his whole life.

Inside, the gym was blessedly quiet. He stood at the edge of the basketball court, fingering his industrial-size tape measure and taking in the banners hanging from the rafters that proclaimed New Skye High championships. Pictures of individual students who had exhibited special success hung on the wall. He recognized Rob Warren’s picture among them, with Rob as a tall, lanky basketball player. Though he’d been one of the “good” kids, Rob had also been Noah’s friend. Probably his only friend who invariably stayed on the right side of the law.

On that thought, Noah decided to start the job he’d come to do. He didn’t expect or intend to attend the dance, which made explaining to himself what he was doing here tough. But he’d agreed to help Kate Bell. The only virtue he claimed in life was sticking by his word.

He was down on one knee, recording the measurements he’d taken, when quick footsteps echoed at the far end of the gym.

“What are you doing in here?” Noah didn’t have to look up to identify the speaker. “Who gave you permission to enter the school building unescorted?” Principal Floyd stood over him, a heavy man breathing hard, red-faced and sweating.

Noah couldn’t get to his feet without shoving Floyd out of the way or crawling back. He wasn’t ready to do either. “The secretary at the front desk gave me permission. You know that, because she’s the one who told you I was in here.”

Floyd clenched his fists. “Dixon Bell had my permission to enter the school building. You, of all people, did not.”

“Dixon couldn’t come. If you get out of my way, I’ll be done in a couple of minutes and then I can get out of yours.”

“What are you doing back in town, anyway? I thought we’d gotten rid of you for good.”

Tired of looking up, Noah heaved to his feet, forcing Floyd to take a couple of steps back. “This is my hometown. Why shouldn’t I come back?”

“Because we don’t want you.” The principal stood with his fat hands on his dumpy hips. He’d gone bald in the last fifteen years. “Because you’re a troublemaker, and if you stick around, there’s going to trouble for everybody. Nobody in New Skye needs you.”

Noah had to admit the truth of that statement. “Don’t have a stroke, Mr. Floyd. I’m not interested in making trouble.” He ignored the flash of memory that gave him back the sweet, rich taste of Abby’s mouth.

“I’m going to stand right here until you’ve finished whatever it is you think you’re doing. And I’m going to keep my eye on you until you get off this campus. Don’t plan to come back. We do have security guards, and I will be leaving orders that you should not be admitted to the grounds or the building.”

“Knock yourself out.” Noah finished his measurements as slowly as he could, for the pleasure of watching Floyd fume. He only regretted the job didn’t take longer.

The walk back to the front of the school, however, seemed to take a century. Floyd didn’t actually handcuff Noah, but in every other way he acted like a prison guard, to the extent of waving off the kids who came at them with curious faces. They didn’t stop at the office, for which Noah was thankful, but continued through the front door onto the steps outside.

“Don’t come back,” Floyd warned again. “You’ve got no business at my school.”

“You’re right about that.” Noah took his time getting down the steps. At the bottom, he turned back. “I don’t suppose too many of the teachers remember me. But I did expect Ms. Lacey to be here for the rest of eternity. Did you fire her or did she finally get fed up with your pompous attitude and quit? She was a pretty good secretary, over all. Not to mention easy on the eyes.”

Floyd’s face turned an even darker red. “Your mouth was always one of your biggest problems, Blake. Ms. Lacey left us years ago, to be married. Now, get off school property before I call the police.”

That was a threat Noah took seriously. He didn’t rush to the bike, but he didn’t hesitate or falter, either. His unavoidable appearance at the police department would come all too soon.

“And stay off,” Floyd yelled over the rumble of the bike’s engine. Noah buckled his helmet, gave the principal a wave and wheeled out of the parking lot.

ANDY FLOYD HELD TRUE to his promise, watching until Noah Blake’s motorcycle had disappeared in a swirl of dust on the highway. Inside the warm school building, he scanned the halls for tardy students, but wasn’t lucky enough to see any he could nab. They had probably seen him first, and were hiding until he went back to his office.

When he reached his desk, he dropped into the chair and rubbed his hands over his face. The last person he’d expected or wanted to see this morning was Noah Blake. Nothing but trouble, he’d been, since the day he first set foot on school grounds.

Worse was the trouble he brought with him. Floyd grabbed the phone and pressed an auto-dial number. “Hey,” he told the man who answered. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What now?”

“Noah Blake is back.”

“Who?”

“Noah Blake. The kid who ran away before the 1989 graduation, remember? After the fire?”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s he want?”

“Who knows? But he looks like he usually gets whatever he sets his mind on. A real tough character.”

After a second, the man on the phone laughed. “A tough character, is he? Good for him.

“Because I’m a pretty tough character myself.”

FRIDAY MORNING, NOAH WENT to see the one person in town who knew the truth about him, the one person who had expected him to show his face in New Skye again.

Rob Warren lived in a peaceful neighborhood on the north side of downtown, in a comfortable-looking house surrounded by plenty of grass and trees. A green pine garland draped the porch rails, tied to the posts with big red bows. Lightbulbs twinkled in the garland and on the holly trees beside the front steps—nighttime would bring on a terrific light display, sure to please the kids. He’d always enjoyed Christmas lights himself.

Noah rang the doorbell, then stared at the huge wreath on the front door until the panel swung back with a draft of sharp, sweet pine scent and the jingle of small silver bells.

“Hey, Noah, good to see you. Come on in.”

Warm and simple, cinnamon-scented, Rob’s house immediately felt like home. Not any home Noah had ever experienced, but somehow he knew this was the way life was supposed to be. The Christmas tree by the front window stretched from floor to ceiling and, even in the daylight, shone with hundreds of lights, as well as ornaments of every kind. A nativity scene took up the entire mantel over the fireplace, complete with camels, cows, sheep, donkeys, chickens, dogs and angels. Noah smiled when he saw an obviously hand-made dog near the manger.

“Yeah, the kids wanted Buttercup, my sister’s golden retriever, at the stable,” Rob explained. “I whittled and Valerie painted her.” He shook his head. “Good thing we never thought about being artists. I don’t think we can claim a thimbleful of talent between us. Have a seat.”

Noah sat on the reclining armchair in the corner. “Looks like y’all will have a very merry Christmas morning.” Presents wrapped in colorful paper and decorated with ribbons and bows were piled high at the base of the tree.

“We’ve gone overboard, I guess. It’s so much fun to be a family—not two single parents with kids—that we’re a little crazy.” Rob shrugged, and his grin displayed not one morsel of regret. “That’s what credit cards are for. Want some coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’m great.” Between anxiety over this interview and the need to choke down his mother’s scrambled eggs, he’d downed four cups this morning.

“Okay, then.” Rob folded his long body onto the couch. “Thanks for coming here. My daughter Ginny had some surgery last week, and she’s still recuperating in bed.”

“I hope she’s okay.” Noah couldn’t imagine coping with a child who needed surgery. Maybe Rob didn’t have such an ideal life, after all?

“She’ll be better in a few months. Ginny has cerebral palsy, and as she grows the doctors want to make adjustments in her tendons and muscles. We don’t always agree with what they suggest, but she’s been through a growth spurt recently and it seemed like the right thing to do. Even this close to Christmas.”

Noah started to get up again. “Maybe this isn’t a good time—”

Rob waved him down. “No, no, we’re fine. This just happens to be my day to stay home—Valerie and I are alternating. Next week, my sister Jen will be off duty as an EMT, and she’ll stay with Ginny.” He smiled. “We’re blessed with family who help out. And each other—I don’t know what I’d do anymore without Valerie. Plus Grace and Connor, who will play with Ginny for hours while she’s in bed. When they’re not squabbling, of course.”

Rob picked up a file folder lying on the coffee table and paged through it. “So let’s get business out of the way and then maybe Ginny will be awake and I can introduce you. I haven’t told anybody you were coming back—haven’t mentioned, even to Valerie, that we’ve talked about this job. I figure your past is your business, and you’ll decide what you want people to know and when.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“I’ve got a lot of paperwork here, forms to be signed and then delivered to your parole officer, forms I’m supposed to keep, information you’re required to read. I guess we’ll go over it one page at a time, make sure we’ve got everything covered. But first…”

Setting the folder back on the table, Rob braced his elbows on his knees, linked his fingers and then looked straight into Noah’s face.

“First, I want to hear what you’ve been doing the last fifteen years or so. Tell me where you worked, where you lived, what you did in your spare time. Explain to me how in the world you ended up in prison.

“And then, give me one good reason I should trust you with a job.”