A Christmas to Remember (11 page)

It was her own damn fault that she’d fallen though. They certainly had
that
right. She’d allowed herself to love someone. And, of course, he’d left her. Everyone she’d ever loved had left her.

The BMW’s door swung open, and a tall dude with sandy hair and a little cowlick got out. He wore a black, double-breasted overcoat—probably cashmere. It accentuated his shoulders. He looked like he was coming home from his job as a stock broker or something.

That’s when Maryanne noticed the license plate on his car. It lacked South Carolina’s palmetto and half-moon. But it sure did have a Georgia peach.

Where the heck was Jennifer? Was this her husband?

Maryanne hid in the shadows as he unloaded groceries and unlocked the farmhouse. The lights came on, and the spill of yellow light from the windows set up a longing inside her.

She ought to go introduce herself, but she’d planned on talking to Jennifer, not some stranger in a cashmere coat. She couldn’t just stride up to his door and use the line she’d rehearsed. Obviously he hadn’t been there that long-ago Christmas.

So she stood there, looking at the light, weighing her options, and trying to make up her mind.

* * *

Daniel unloaded his ham and fixings onto the kitchen counter.

Damn, he’d forgotten to stop by the church on the way home to drop off the little reindeer toy. It lay there in the bottom of the grocery sack mocking him.

He left it there, out of sight as he reached for the corkscrew he’d bought to go with the wine. Then he went searching for a juice glass. Momma and Daddy had never been drinkers so there wasn’t a wine glass to be found in this kitchen.

He was just pouring the wine when he heard a noise coming from the barn. It sounded…

He stilled, all his senses going to full alert. His ears were playing tricks on him. It was probably just the wind, or maybe a stray cat howling at the rain.

The noise came again.

He put down his juice glass and went digging into the drawer in search of a flashlight. And lo, it was right where it was supposed to be. Daddy had always been just a little OCD, and the dementia only made it worse.

The flashlight worked.

He threw on his overcoat and minced his way over the ice to the barn. An iron band formed around his chest. He could hardly take in a breath.

The door was open a crack, and that was odd because he’d closed the door before he’d left the place last weekend. An open barn door was an invitation to stray cats and other critters.

But the noise coming from inside the barn wasn’t a stray cat.

He shoved open the door and hit the ladder to the loft at a run. When he was halfway up, he shined his light into the corner.

Oh holy God.

The girl flinched when the light hit her eyes, and if anything the baby in her arms howled even harder.

“Turn that damn thing off.” She shaded her eyes, and he aimed his light up toward the rafters. It bounced back, giving the loft a dim, shadowy glow.

He’d gotten only a fleeting look at the woman, but her glossy brown hair and deep, dark eyes made an impression. The baby in her arms was maybe three or four months old. The child wasn’t happy in the least.

“Who the hell are you?” he shouted above the baby’s cries. The words came out like bullets, harsher than he’d intended. It was freezing cold in the barn. No wonder the baby was screaming.

“Are you Cousin Jennifer’s husband?” she said, bypassing his question.

“Cousin Jennifer? Who’s that?”

“Jennifer Carpenter.”

If the situation hadn’t been so strange he might have laughed. “Jenny Carpenter? You think I’m her husband? Lady, Jenny Carpenter is a professional spinster. She’s never going to have a husband.”

“How can anyone be a professional spinster?” she asked. There was something in her voice. He couldn’t decide if she was sassing him or teasing him. Either way, he didn’t like it. She was the one with a baby in his barn on an icy cold night.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he barked.

“Looking for Jennifer… uh, I mean Jenny. And I take it you’re not her husband.”

“What gave you the idea I was her husband?”

“Uh, well, you’re here at her farm.”

The light dawned. “This is the
Jessup
farm. Old man Carpenter’s orchard is down Ridge Road another mile, maybe. Lady, you’ve holed up in the wrong barn.”

“Oh.” It was too dark to see the expression on her face. But he heard both apology and embarrassment in her voice.

“I guess I’ll be going, then,” she said. “Just let me get Joshua in his carrier and then—”

“You can’t go anywhere tonight. They’re calling for three inches of ice on the roads. And besides, I didn’t see a car.”

“Oh, well, my car broke down on Highway 78, about a mile short of Ridge Road.”

“You walked here? With a baby? In the rain?” He went on alert. This had serious child endangerment written all over it.

“Well, don’t get up on your high horse. I wasn’t going to stay in the car when I could walk. Besides, it wasn’t raining when I started out. I’ve got a good North Face coat. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine doing what?”

“Just walking down to the right farmhouse.”

“The Carpenter farmhouse burned down ten years ago. The barn is all that’s left. I think Jenny leases the land to Mr. Nelson. But Jenny lives in town at the moment, although I heard that she’s planning on moving into The Jonquil House and turning it into a bed and breakfast.”

“Oh.” There was a depth of emotion and desperation in that single word. It hit him in the chest. Maybe she wasn’t a goofball of a mother. Maybe she just needed some help.

He softened his voice. “I gather it’s been a while since you’ve seen Cousin Jenny. And something tells me she’s not exactly expecting you for the holidays.”

* * *

Busted. She was so busted. The rich BMW guy had managed to see right through her, even in the dark.

Although he did have the advantage since he’d halfway blinded her with his flashlight right at the start. Now she had this big purple glowy splotch right in the middle of her vision. It was going to be hard to get Joshua in his carrier and get the heck out of here.

Before he called the cops.

She definitely didn’t want cops involved. Cops were going to get in touch with the do-gooders, and then she and Joshua would end up “in the system.” And the system would grind them up and spit them out.

But then again, if Grandpa’s farmhouse had burned, she was stuck here. Last Chance was a good five, maybe six, miles down Route 78. So all told it might be seven miles to Cousin Jennifer’s house. She couldn’t walk there with Joshua. Not in the rain and ice.

She positioned the baby up on her shoulder and swayed while she rubbed his back. His distress ate into her. This sudden bout of crying was so unlike him. He was usually a content, practically serene baby.

Maybe he was sensing the fact that Maryanne had come to the end of her rope, and she didn’t know what to do.

The baby raised his head for a moment and then he put it back down on her shoulder and kind of snuggled down against her. He gave one or two last little hiccups and relaxed. She gave him a little squeeze. She had never loved anyone or anything more than Joshua.

The man on the ladder let go of a long sigh. She could see a plume of steam. It was freezing cold in this barn.

“C’mon. You can’t stay in here,” he said. “And I won’t have you walking to town in an ice storm. I’ve got food inside.” He paused for a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to heat up a ham, would you?”

He was kidding, right? “Uh, that’s not actually very hard.”

“Yeah, well, it is if you’ve never done it before. And I have some instant potatoes. Who knew they even had anything like that? I certainly didn’t know you could get potatoes from out of a box.”

“I’m an expert at instant potatoes.” She didn’t tell him that she also knew how to make real mashed potatoes.

“My name’s Daniel. Daniel Jessup. And you are?”

“Maryanne Carpenter. And this is Joshua.”

* * *

The farmhouse wasn’t at all like the one Maryanne had visited when she was six. This one was smaller than her memories.

Her grandfather’s house sprawled in every direction. This house had a prim, center-hall design. The house of her memory had been stuffed with furniture and a gigantic Christmas tree. This place was empty, except for a bunch of boxes stacked up in the dining room and a lonely, threadbare couch in the living room. There were no holiday decorations here—not one shred of tinsel that would give away the season.

But both of these houses had big kitchens. Daniel’s groceries, such as they were, were sitting on the butcher block counter along with an open bottle of wine.

“So, you were planning on drinking alone, huh?” she asked, suddenly curious about this man and his almost-empty farmhouse.

He bypassed her question with one of his own. “I’m going upstairs to see what I can find to make a bed for the baby. Are you good here?”

She turned to look at him. He was standing in the kitchen doorway, studying her as if he were trying to decide if she was good or evil.

So she studied him right back. He was tall, with sandy blond hair and deep-set, blue eyes. His gray business suit couldn’t hide the farm boy inside. That cowlick, his big hands, and those broad shoulders gave him away. She could just imagine him in jeans and a plaid shirt tossing around hay bales or something.

In fact, he looked exactly like one of her deepest fantasies. The one that went along with the make-believe life she had imagined for herself at her grandfather’s farm. He looked like the farm boy next door.

“I’m good for now,” she said. “Did you grow up here?” She suddenly wanted to know. Because if he had grown up there, then he
was
the farm boy next door.

He nodded but didn’t elaborate. He turned away, and a moment later, the sound of his footsteps going up the stairs echoed through the empty house.

She had never imagined the boy next door growing up to become a stockbroker with a BMW and a cashmere coat. Which just proved how dangerous fantasies could be.

She pushed her disappointment aside and assessed the contents of Daniel’s refrigerator and pantry. She was hungry and not ashamed to admit it. Joshua seemed to be taking all her extra calories these days.

Unfortunately, the cupboard was almost bare except for the ham, a box of potatoes, some frozen veggies, and several boxes of cereal. At least he had fresh milk.

She had just started up the oven when Daniel’s footsteps thumped down the stairs. Boy, he sure was heavy on his feet. She braced herself for another confrontation. But he didn’t come into the kitchen right away.

He stayed out there in the living room, moving stuff around.

She opened the canned ham and put it in the oven to heat, and was just rummaging through the cabinets looking for a second juice glass, when he spoke again. She almost jumped out of her skin.

“I fixed up something for the baby.”

She turned. Oh boy, he had reverted to type. He’d lost his suit and come back wearing a pair of faded jeans and a red flannel shirt that was surprisingly festive. He wasn’t wearing farm boy boots, though. The tasseled loafers were like a flashing danger sign.

“What did you fix up? I can’t imagine that you have a crib or a cradle,” she said.

“Well, no. But I had an idea for a bed, kind of. I’m sure you’re tired of lugging him around.”

“Not really,” she lied. She
was
ready to put Joshua down, but she didn’t want Daniel thinking she didn’t care about the baby. He already had the wrong idea about her.

Or maybe it wasn’t the wrong idea. She’d made some truly boneheaded decisions today. She shouldn’t have taken Joshua out into the rain. She shouldn’t have thought about spending the night in an unheated barn. She probably shouldn’t have even left Montgomery.

“What kind of bed?” she asked, breaking the sudden silence.

“Come and see.” Was that a twinkle in his eye? No, certainly not. Any guy who had been planning to drink a bottle of wine all by himself on Christmas Eve was incapable of having twinkles.

Anywhere.

She followed him to the living room. “It’s my mother’s bureau drawer,” he said, explaining the obvious.

A couple of baby blue velour towels had been folded into the bottom of the drawer to make a little bed that would fit Joshua perfectly.

Some of Maryanne’s defensiveness crumbled. “Thank you,” she muttered, her throat suddenly closing off the air. It had been a long time since someone had done something kind for her. The whole world wanted to reform her. But very few people were actually kind.

Cousin Jenny had been kind. Grandma and Grandpa had been kind. In fact it was their kindness she remembered the best. It was their kindness that had drawn her to this place when she’d come to the end of her rope.

And Daniel was kind, too. It was a rare thing in the real world.

So she decided not to lie to him. She decided to kind of trust him. “It would be nice to put the baby down for a bit,” she admitted. “My shoulders are tired.”

He smiled and nodded. “I thought that might be the case.”

She wrapped her arms around the sleeping child and slipped the carrier off. Joshua fit very nicely in the bureau drawer. She dug into her backpack and found a receiving blanket and swaddled him tight. Joshua liked being wrapped up tight when he slept.

“I don’t think he’s going anywhere for a while,” Daniel said. “Why don’t we pour some wine and figure out how to make instant potatoes?”

* * *

The woman—Maryanne—was exhausted. The weariness showed in the dark circles under her deep brown eyes. The baby probably kept her up all hours of the night. And she was obviously down on her luck. She looked like she’d dressed herself in Salvation Army castoffs. Her sweater was unraveling at the neckline. Her jeans were frayed. And she didn’t have a wedding ring on her left hand.

But she wasn’t some runaway teen mom. He’d guess she was in her mid to late twenties and fairly well-educated by the way she spoke. She was pretty in the way of the girls he’d grown up with here in Last Chance. She wasn’t all made up or dressed to the nines like the women of Atlanta tended to be. Like Julia had been.