Читать книгу Shenandoah Christmas - Lynnette Kent - Страница 9

OH, DEAR. Anna saw resistance dawn on her sister’s face at the mention of Christmas. She’d planned to present the idea gradually, easing Cait into the role of directing the annual holiday program. When the doctor had ordered Anna to stay home and take things easy, she’d known she would have to find someone to take over her responsibility for the pageant. Cait had seemed like the perfect answer—for both their sakes.

But not if she got stubborn. “I hadn’t mentioned that to you,” she said, catching Cait’s eye across the table. “We usually start preparing around the beginning of November.”

“It’s lots of fun,” Maddie said. “We have angels and shepherds and wise men and a procession on Christmas Eve.”

Cait made a visible effort to relax. “We used to have a Christmas pageant when I was growing up. I remember how exciting it was. But—”

“The pageant has been a Goodwill tradition since I was a girl,” Peggy said. “Most of the children in town participate. When I was ten, I got to be the announcing angel.” She smiled at her granddaughter.

Maddie nodded. “That’s what I want to be. I already started learning the part. ‘Fear not…’”

Cait pressed her lips together and lifted her chin, a sure sign she was on the defensive. Anna sat up straighter, trying to think of a distraction. This was not going well at all.

“First, we have to get through Halloween.” Ben Tremaine’s calm voice came as an answer to prayer. “Have you decided on your costume yet, Maddie?”

The little girl nodded. “If we got a angel outfit, then I’d be all set for the Christmas pageant. That’s a good idea, isn’t it?”

There was a second of silence, during which Anna imagined all the adults—herself included—grappling for a way to deal with that question. The very existence of the pageant was in doubt this year. And there would be other children wanting the angel’s role. If she counted too much on getting the part, Maddie might be severely disappointed.

“My favorite Halloween costume of all time was the year I dressed as Zorro,” Cait said.

“You had Zorro when you were growing up?” Maddie’s eyes widened. “I love that movie.”

Cait grinned. “Zorro’s been around a long, long time.”

“But can a girl be Zorro?”

“Why not? Black cape, mask, sword…poof! It’s Zorro.”

“Yeah.” The little girl was obviously taken with the idea. Anna chuckled. Leave it to Cait to come up with the solution nobody else could see.

“And I’ll tell you a secret.” Cait leaned over Shep, pretending to whisper to Maddie. “I taped a crayon to the end of my sword, so I could slash real Z’s everywhere I went. It was incredibly cool.” She imitated the motion with a few flicks of her wrist.

“Wow…”

“And what should we think up for Shep?” Cait’s hand rested lightly on his blond head for a second.

“He likes that guy in X-Men.” Maddie served as her brother’s voice most of the time. “The one who’s sorta like a wolf.”

“Wolverine? I met him at a party once. He’s really cool.” Cait looked down into Shep’s upturned face. “That would be an excellent costume.”

Shep nodded decisively, as if the issue were settled.

“Amazing,” Ben commented, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, “how an outside perspective can simplify the most complicated problem.” His emphasis on outside was slight, but noticeable, nonetheless.

Another silence fell. “Dessert?” Peggy said at last, a little too brightly.

As the rest of them tried to restore some semblance of civility over brownies and ice cream, Cait stayed quiet, her smile stiff, her cheeks flushed with temper and, Anna knew, hurt pride. Tonight was her first real social venture since she’d arrived in town, and persuading her to come hadn’t been easy. In her frequent phone calls and e-mails, she’d rarely mentioned friends, or even casual acquaintances. The guys in her band—all of them married—were the people Cait spent most of her time with. This visit to a stranger’s house for dinner was an effort on her part.

But then, she wasn’t the only one acting out of character. In the three years she and David had lived in Goodwill, Anna had never known Ben Tremaine to be anything but kind and caring. Even right after Valerie’s death, when he was nearly paralyzed by grief, he’d reached out to express his concern over Anna’s first miscarriage.

Judging by their interaction so far, though, he and Cait seemed to bring out the worst in each other.

And Anna had hoped for something very, very different between them.

She sighed, and David’s hand immediately covered hers. “I really think it’s time for us to go. You should be in bed.”

“I’m fine.”

But David wasn’t listening. “Peggy, Harry, it’s been a great meal.” He was standing behind her, waiting to pull out her chair as she got to her feet. “But I do think Anna’s had enough excitement for one day. Will you forgive us if we don’t stay to help with the dishes?”

Peggy shook her head. “I wouldn’t have that, even if you stayed all night. We’ve been delighted to share your company. And to meet Caitlyn.” She smiled. “Please feel free to drop by any time for a cup of coffee and a chat.”

“Thank you for everything. I’ve enjoyed meeting you.” Now Caitlyn had turned on her “professional” smile—a little too bright, rather unfocused. She turned to Maddie and Shep. “I’ll look forward to seeing you on Sunday at church and at choir next week.” Then she moved away from the table, without a word or a glance in Ben Tremaine’s direction.

“I’ll get your coats.” Harry led them to the front hall, with Peggy and the children following. Anna looked back to see Ben standing just inside the opening between the living and dining rooms.

He lifted his wineglass in a silent toast and gave her a warm smile. “Take care of yourself.”

She didn’t return the smile. “I don’t understand—”

David wrapped her coat around her from behind. “Here we go, sweetheart. Night, Ben.” And then her husband was easing her down the porch steps and into the car like an ancient statue that might break if he set it down too hard.

“We can’t be careful enough,” he said later, in their bedroom, when she told him how she felt.

“The doctor didn’t say—”

“The doctor said you should have as little stress as possible.” He came out of the bathroom wearing a clean white T-shirt and soft flannel pajama bottoms. Brushing her hair, Anna watched her husband moving around the bedroom, getting ready for sleep. David wasn’t handsome, and he wasn’t a big man, or obviously muscular, but he had a lean strength that had always excited her. She loved the smell of the fresh cotton T-shirt combined with David’s own, unique scent. Just the thought was enough to raise her pulse rate.

“Having dinner with Harry and Peggy is not stressful.” Which wasn’t exactly true, considering the way Ben and Cait had behaved, but she wanted David to think so. If he thought she was feeling really well, maybe they could make love. The last time had been before her most recent doctor’s appointment, two weeks ago. Much too long.

She left her hair down around her shoulders, rather than braiding it for sleep, and instead of going to her side of the bed, she went to sit on the edge beside David. Putting her hand over his ribs, she rubbed gently. “Neither is being with you.” With her other hand braced on the pillow beside his head, she leaned close to brush her lips over his.

David’s reaction was everything she hoped for—a quickly drawn breath, an immediate claiming of her mouth with his own. His hands claimed her as well, and she felt the surge of his passion in the grip of his fingers on her shoulders. With a sigh of pleasure and surrender, Anna lowered herself more fully onto his chest.

But instead of drawing her even closer, instead of taking them deeper, David softened his mouth, shortened the kisses.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against her temple. “I love you.” Without her cooperation, he sat her up and away from him. “Come to bed.” He put his glasses on the table and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

As she turned off the lamp on the dresser and the light in the bathroom, Anna tried to believe that what she’d heard was an invitation. In the darkened room, though, she slipped into bed to find David on his side, facing away from her. Had he fallen asleep so quickly? Or did he just want her to think so?

She sat up to braid her hair, then eased under the covers again. David was tired, of course. All the responsibilities of running the church fell onto his shoulders, now that she couldn’t work. Typing, answering the phone and handling all the paperwork, plus his normal pastoral duties, kept him working late these days. With a sermon to preach on Sunday, he certainly needed to get a good rest on Friday night.

Still wide-awake, Anna sighed and turned her back on her husband…and on the memory of all the nights she’d fallen asleep in his strong, loving arms.

BEN LEFT the Shepherds’ house as soon as he could get away. Maddie and Shep enjoyed spending the night with their grandparents, so there wasn’t a problem with goodbyes. They knew he’d be back for them around lunchtime tomorrow.

At home again, he headed for the shop without even going into the house first, shivering a little in the frosty darkness. Ever since he was a boy, he’d found a kind of peace in his carpentry. The sweet smell of shaved wood, the physical effort of planing and sanding, the concentration on delicate cutting and carving—his work absorbed him, absolved him of the need to think.

Usually. Tonight, he couldn’t get Cait Gregory’s face out of his mind. Not because she was beautiful, but because she’d been hurt. By him. He’d gone out of his way to insult her, several times over. He might be forgiven for not introducing himself at the grocery store, but his comment to her at dinner had been totally out of line. That the remark had been his only means of defense didn’t matter. He shouldn’t need a defense.

But something about Cait Gregory set off all his alarms. There was an…aliveness…in her eyes that grabbed him and urged him near her. Adventure, challenge, emotion—somehow he knew he could find all of that and more with this redheaded woman.

Adventure had played a big part in his past—the Secret Service provided plenty of action, even on assignments that didn’t involve the White House. He’d cornered counterfeiters and tax evaders during those years, taken out a would-be assassin. Challenge had come his way with the births of his children, with the decision a year ago to build a new life and a new business based on the work of his hands.

And he’d experienced a lifetime’s share of emotion, though he was only thirty-seven years old. Valerie had been his partner, his lover, his best friend, since their second year in college together. They’d established their careers side by side—hers as a lobbyist for a consumer affairs agency, his with the government. They’d planned for their children, prepared for them, rejoiced in their presence. Their family had been a walking advertisement for the American dream.

In a matter of seconds, the dream became a nightmare, one Ben was still trying to escape. From the perfect life, he’d descended into a hell of pain and loss. Eighteen months later, he’d thought he’d climbed out of the pit, at least far enough to find a purpose in living, a willingness to keep trying. For a long time, he’d only functioned to take care of the kids. Nowadays, finally, he took care of himself, too.

But maintaining this equilibrium demanded all his strength. He had nothing left to give to a new relationship. Especially one with a woman like Cait Gregory. A man could lose his soul in her shining green eyes. Ben knew he needed to hold on to what soul he had left.

Still, he shouldn’t flay other people because of his own inadequacies. Cait Gregory didn’t deserve the way he’d treated her. And the injustice bothered him.

So he put down the sandpaper and chair leg he’d been smoothing, dusted his hands and picked up the phone. Dave Remington’s number was on his autodial list—had been since he’d arrived in town after Valerie’s accident. Taking a deep breath, Ben punched the button.

“Hello?” Not Dave’s Virginia accent, or Anna’s clear tone, but a siren’s voice. “Hello?”

He straddled a chair and braced his head on his hand. “Cait? This is Ben Tremaine.”

Immediate frost. “David and Anna have gone to bed. But if it’s an emergency—”

“No. No, I called to…talk to you.”

“Really?” As brittle as breaking icicles. “Was there some aspersion you forgot to cast?”

Strangely, he almost laughed. “I want to apologize. I acted like a jerk, in the grocery and at dinner. No excuses. But I am sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Oh.” Cait sat speechless as she held the phone to her ear, trying to think of the right response. Part of her wanted to punish him, to keep Ben Tremaine groveling for a long time. Part of her wanted to spare him any further embarrassment.

And part of her just wanted to keep him talking. “That’s…that’s okay. No harm done. I’ve had my share of tough reviews over the years. I’ll recover.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I imagine there are legions of fans out there who’d be after me if I slighted their legend.” His voice held a smile.

Cait found herself smiling in response. “Probably not legions. Or a legend. Janis Joplin is a legend. I’m just a singer.”

“I bet you do a good version of ‘Bobby McGee,’ though.”

“I’ve never covered that song.”

“Why not? Your voice would be perfect.”

Her chest went hollow at the idea that he’d noticed her voice. “Um…I don’t know.” Almost without her intent, the melody came to mind, and then the words about being free and being alone. The music possessed her, as a good song always did, and she sang it through, experimenting with intervals and timing. At the end, she was still hearing the possibilities, thinking about variations…until she realized how long the silence had lasted.

Talk about embarrassed. “I—I’m sorry.” She felt her face and neck flush with heat. “I—”

“Don’t apologize.” He cleared his throat. “I was right—you’re dynamite with that song. What do you have to do to get the rights to sing it?”

“Pay big bucks, probably. I’ll get my agent to investigate.”

“Good.” He paused, and Cait could tell he was ready to say goodbye. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. I hope you know I really am sorry for…everything.”

“Forget it.” She wanted to keep him on the line but, really, what did they have to talk about?

“If you will.”

“Then it’s done.” She took a deep breath and made the break herself. “Good night, Ben.”

“Night…Cait.”

She set down the phone and rolled to her side on the bed, breathing in the lavender scent of Anna’s pillowcases. Flowered wallpaper and crisp, frilly curtains, lace-trimmed pillows and old-fashioned furniture…the guest room reflected Anna’s careful, caring personality, her love of beautiful, comfortable surroundings. After two solid months on the road, sleeping in anonymous motel rooms, Cait reveled in the luxury. If only she could sing her songs, and then come home every night to something like this….

She drifted off to sleep, into dreams she sensed but couldn’t remember, and woke to the smell of coffee. That meant she’d overslept and left Anna and David to get their own breakfast. Of course, ten-thirty was very early on a Saturday morning for most musicians she knew to be out of bed. Cait considered this just one more example of the way she would never fit in with the normal, everyday routine her sister lived. Not to mention Ben Tremaine.

Why bring him up, anyway?

She found Anna alone at the table in the cozy kitchen, looking as if she hadn’t slept very well.

“Everything okay?” Cait poured herself a mug of coffee. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Cait blinked at the unusual sharpness in Anna’s tone. “You look tired, is all.”

Her sister took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I guess you’re right—I am tired.”

“Maybe we should have stayed home last night.”

“I’m as tired of staying home as anything else.” Again, the harshness in her usually gentle voice.

“Well, okay. I’ll send you out on my next concert tour. You can ride all day and sleep in two or three hour snatches and eat lousy food two meals out of every three. I’ll stay here and—”

Anna laughed, as Cait had hoped she would. “I get the message. The grass is always greener.” She stared into her orange juice for a minute, then looked up as Cait sat down with her coffee and a sweet roll. “So what do you think about the Christmas pageant?”

After talking with Ben, she hadn’t given the pageant any thought at all. But she didn’t need to. “I’m not the person to be in charge of a program like that. And you know it.”

“I know you think so. I’m not convinced you’re right.”

“You need somebody who believes in—what’s the phrase?—‘the reason for the season.’”

Anna lifted her eyebrows. “Are you an atheist now?”

“N-no.” Cait crumbled a corner of her roll. “But that’s theology. Your program should have a director who likes Christmas.”

“Sweetie, it’s been ten years. Don’t you think you could start to forgive him?”

The unmentionable had just been mentioned. “Has he forgiven me?”

Now her sister avoided her gaze. “We…don’t talk about you.”

Cait nodded. “Because I ceased to exist for him the second I refused to do what he told me to. What kind of father treats a child that way?”

“He wanted so much for you—”

“Without ever bothering to find out what I wanted for myself. And then he chose Christmas—of all times—to force a showdown.”

“I’m sure he’s sorry.”

“I’m not sure of that. But I’m not sorry, either. He handed me the career I wanted by making it impossible for me to do anything else. If he can’t live with my choice, can’t connect with me in spite of our differences, then—” she shrugged “—that’s his choice.”

Anna sighed. “Okay, forget about Dad. The Goodwill Christmas pageant would be a one-time commitment for you. Is that too much to ask?”

“I wouldn’t be any good at it, Anna. I could go through the motions, but that wouldn’t produce the results you want.”

“You won’t even try?”

“I can’t just try something like this. I either do it, or I don’t. And I really would rather not.” She took a fortifying sip of coffee. “There are other churches in town. One of their choir directors could organize the pageant.”

“Mrs. Boringer at the Methodist Church is sixty-five and has really bad arthritis.” Anna ticked off one finger. “John Clay, the Catholic priest, leads their singing, but he won’t take on a project like this. And Lou Miller just accepted a job in a big church in Dallas, leaving the Baptists without a choir director at all. Our church is the only hope for this season. If we don’t do it, Goodwill won’t have a pageant…for the first time in forty-eight years.”

“So let David—”

“David doesn’t sing. You know that. We have to have somebody who sings.”

Cait saw the anxiety in Anna’s face, the tension in her hands wrapped around the mug of tea. This kind of stress couldn’t be good for the baby. And it would kill Anna to lose another baby.

But…just the thought of involving herself in a Christmas pageant was enough to make her head pound and her stomach cramp. Cait closed her eyes for a second, swallowed back bile, then wiped her sweaty palms on her pajama pants.

“Look, let’s do this.” A deep breath. “I’ll get them started on Christmas songs. The story’s still the same, right?” She watched Anna summon up a small smile. “Meanwhile, you can ask around, find a mom or a dad who’s willing to do the actual staging and directing. And, who knows, maybe by the middle of December your baby will be here and you can direct the pageant yourself.”

Anna shook her head. “This isn’t something we can put together in two weeks. Costumes, scenery, everybody learning their lines…”

The details made Cait shudder. “First things first. We’ll start with the music.”

And if I’m lucky, she thought, the music is as far as I’ll have to go.

THE ADULT CHOIR sang for the first time under Cait’s direction in church on Sunday. Three sopranos, two altos and four men was not a very large group, but they all had pleasant voices, strong enough for the old familiar hymn she’d arranged and rehearsed with them.

After the service, it seemed that every member of the small church stopped at the organ to compliment her. “What a pleasure,” Karen Patterson said. “I’m so glad you’re here to help us all out.” She had her arm around her daughter Brenna, Maddie Tremaine’s friend. “Brenna loves what you’re doing with her choir.”

“I have a good time with them, too.” Cait smiled at Brenna. “They sing very well for such a young group.”

Gray-eyed Brenna ducked her head, hiding a pleased smile.

“That was just lovely.” Peggy Shepherd put her arm around Cait’s waist. “I almost called out ‘Encore!’ But I thought David might be insulted.”

Cait grinned. “The sermon is supposed to be the main point, I think.” Her father had always delivered powerful, intelligent—and often intimidating—messages. As far as she knew, he was still preaching, still cautioning his parishioners against the dangers of stray thoughts and wayward deeds.

“A fine song,” Harry Shepherd added. “One of my favorites.”

“That was beautiful, Miss Caitlyn!” Maddie appeared suddenly in the midst of the gathering. “Can we sing that song in our choir?”

“Maybe you could. The melody, anyway.” Cait felt, rather than saw, Ben Tremaine come to the edge of the group. He stood to her right, just out of her line of sight. She wanted to turn to greet him, but couldn’t get up the nerve.

Maddie swung on her arm. “Guess what we’re doing this afternoon, Miss Caitlyn.”

“Um…going swimming?”

“Of course not. It’s too cold to swim. Guess again.”

“Building a snowman?”

“There’s no snow.” She said it chidingly, as if Cait should know better. “We’re having a Halloween party. It’s at Brenna’s house, and we get to wear our costumes.”

“That sounds like so much fun. What did you decide to wear?”

“Zorro, of course. I got a hat and a sword and everything. And Shep’s going to be Wolverine.”

“Wow…that’s great. What are you going to be, Brenna?”

“An Olympic champion,” the little blonde said softly.

“Brenna has horses,” Maddie confided. “She’s got all the fancy clothes, so she just made a gold medal on a ribbon and she’s all set.”

“What a great idea. Maybe you’ll be an Olympic champion for real someday.”

“I hope so,” Brenna said, with the intensity Cait remembered feeling at that age in her desire for a singing career.

“I wish I could see all your costumes.” She was beginning to wonder if Maddie would swing her arm right out of its socket. “Will you come trick-or-treating to Miss Anna’s house?”

The swinging stopped. “Why don’t you come to the party,” Maddie asked. “I’m sure it’s okay with Brenna’s mom. Isn’t it?”

Karen Patterson recovered quickly from her surprise. “O-of course. We’d be delighted to have you come by, Cait. As long as you can stand the noise twelve ten-year-olds will make.”

There was no graceful way out. “I think I can stop by for a few minutes, at least. Where do you live, Mrs. Patterson?”

“Karen, please. We’re kind of far out of town, but it’s not hard to find. If you drive—”

Maddie tugged on her arm again. “You don’t need to drive, Miss Caitlyn. My daddy can bring you with us.”

As she turned to look at the man in question, Cait knew she only imagined that the entire group went completely quiet.

His smile waited for her, rueful, a little embarrassed, maybe slightly annoyed. “Sure,” he said, in that soft, deep drawl. “We’d be glad to take you to the party.”

How she wanted to refuse. But Maddie was staring up at her with wide brown eyes, silently—for once!—pleading. Shep stood just behind Ben, peeking around his dad’s hip like a little mouse out of a hole. Cait thought she saw an expression of hope on his face, as well.

She could brush off a grown man—had done it plenty of times over the past ten years. But disappointing a child was simply beyond Cait’s strength.

“That sounds great.” She grinned at the children, avoiding even a brief glance at their dad. “What time should I be ready?”