Opal looked around distractedly at the scampering kids. “Oh no. They took off their burlap robes. I only see two of them.”
Annie hollered so loudly the rafters rang. “Shepherds! Front and center!”
Seven little boys separated themselves from the pack and ran over to her.
“Line up, please.”
They obeyed. Opal collapsed in a chair. “How did you do that? Never mind. Thank you, Annie. I need all the help I can get.”
“I can see that. Let's go, boys.” Annie brought up the rear as the shepherds marched up the rickety wooden stairs and, jostling each other, stopped under a painted canvas sky filled with stars.
“Are you in charge now?” a fair-haired boy asked.
“Only of you guys. I bet you don't have any lines to rehearse. Shepherds usually don't say anything.”
“I do,” said an older boy with a bristling brown crew cut. “But it's just one word.” He stepped forward and made the most of it. “Behold!”
Annie was impressed. The kid would be heard in the back row.
“Then we all point to the Star of Wonder when Miss Opal gives us our cue.”
“That's a very important part of the show.”
“We only have one wooden sheep. She said there might be real sheep for the parade, though,” another boy said.
“There's going to be a parade?”
He nodded eagerly. “The stores on Main Street sponsor it. They give out candy and stuff to all the kids and we get to ride on the floats.”
“That's something new,” Annie said. “When I was a kid it was just the pageant.”
“Were you ever in it?” The seven boys looked at her with interest.
“Yes. I stood in the back. I didn't have any lines either.”
“Why not?”
Annie ruffled the hair of the boy who'd asked the question. “Because I could never remember them. But I loved being on stage. Until I looked out and saw my parents and my brothers in the front row.”
“Miss Opal told us not to stare at our folks.”
“Good idea. When I saw my mom and dad, I froze. One of the shepherds used his crook to get me to move. Say, do you guys have crooks?”
“Yeah.” The crew-cut boy scrambled to his feet. “I know where they are.”
By the time he returned with the props, Annie had found the sheep, a plywood cutout with a plank in back to keep it standing up. The other six boys clustered around it, patting its soft side.
“We glued on the cotton puffs last week,” the smallest boy told her proudly. “It looks pretty real.”
“It looks great,” she reassured him. “Okay, everything seems to be under control. You might as well take a short break.”
“Can we run around again?” the oldest boy asked hopefully.
“Just don't bump into people. And keep the noise down. And tell me your names before you goâno, wait. I have a better idea. Let's see if we can find stick-on badges for all of you so I don't forget who's who.”
Boys did better when they had something useful to do. They scattered and came back with peel-and-stick labels.
“Good enough.” Annie lined them up and badged them one by one. The task was completed in less than half an hour. “Don't leave the social hall,” she told them.
“They won't. I'll make sure of it,” said her crew-cut lieutenant.
She smiled at him. “Okay. Thanks.”
Annie moved away, spotting Jenny and Zoe amid the town kids. They were heading for Cilla and Ed Rivers. By the time Annie reached them, all four were clustered around an open laptop.
“What's up?”
“Shh,” Zoe whispered. “We're going to talk to Mommy.”
As the older of the two, Jenny got to hold the laptop, gazing into the screen as her baby sister leaned against her.
Annie looked at the screen and caught a glimpse of a woman with dark curly hair tucked under a white cap that concealed most of it. She was doing her best to be heard over the racket of an industrial-style kitchen going full tilt behind her.
“It's so good to see you girls,” their mother said brightly. “I can't chat too long tonight, though. I only have a fifteen-minute break. The swing shift is coming in.”
The girls either knew what a swing shift was or they didn't care.
“Can you read us a story later?” Jenny begged.
“I sure wish I could. But I have to work late.”
“I'll do it, Bree,” Cilla quickly assured her.
Though she was young, the careworn expression on Bree's face was a poignant reminder of what some parents had to do to provide for their kids. Taking a temporary job far away was part of the deal for this young mom.
Jenny looked up at Annie as if seeing her for the first time. She rotated the laptop to introduce her. “Mommy, this is Annie. She took us to the movies.”
“Right. The lollipop one. Hi, Annie. Thanks so much.”
“My pleasure. Your girls are a delight.”
“Good to know. I can't wait to take them to the movies myself.” There wasn't anything competitive in the statement, just the resignation of a mother who had to be away from those she loved most. “I really do appreciate it. They seem very happy in Velde.”
“Mommy, when are you coming to get us?” Zoe's plaintive question was from the heart.
“As soon as I can, baby.”
The moment was too personal. Annie stepped back, well out of range of the camera lens in the laptop's frame.
She headed toward a new source of commotion: There was scenery being banged together in a roped-off section of the hall. Power tools were in use or waiting to be used.
Annie shooed away a few curious kids who got too close. “You can watch if you want,” she told them. “But stay over here.” She dragged over a few folding chairs to set a boundary. “And don't distract the carpenters.”
The children seemed inclined to cooperate, but she stayed with them just in case. A church aide came along and took over guard duty, freeing Annie to be with her seven shepherds, who came barreling toward her. The oldest held a tablet with the glowing graphics of a video game.
“I got to Level Nine,” he boasted. “I slew a dragon and stuck a troll lord in the dungeon.”
“Yeah, but I got to Level Ten,” the youngest bragged. “It's way harder than Nine.”
“You cheated.”
“Stop it,” Annie said, and laughed.
“It's only a game,” another boy protested.
“I grew up with two older brothers,” she informed him. “There was never any such thing as
only a game
.”
They handed her the tablet. “Okay. You play it.”
“Some other time. Here comes Miss Opal.”
The chorus director gave her a weary smile. “I still have to rehearse the leads. They disappeared on me.”
Annie looked over her head and saw a sweet-faced young girl and an older boy who hadn't taken off their rustic costumes. They walked side by side with solemn expressions. “There they are.”
“Oh, thank goodness. All right, children.” Opal waved all the participants onto the stage. “Let's take it from the top.”
There was a piano in the shadows beyond the stage. Annie just made out a white-haired old lady waiting for a signal from Opal. At the downward motion of the chorus director's hand, she began to play the opening bars of “Silent Night.”
It was Mrs. Pearson. Annie realized that she must have found someone to stay with Jack.
She caught Annie's eye and gave her a nod and a tiny smile.
When the cast had rehearsed the song twice, Opal dismissed them all, telling them to wait where she could see them until their parents arrived. The kids were too tuckered out to run around the way they had when Annie entered. Most found their jackets and flopped on top of them in various places on the varnished floor. A few took out books and sat cross-legged to read.
The chorus director took the opportunity to check her list. “Oh. I almost forgot. Can you keep an eye on the herd for a second?”
“You bet.”
The kids lolled around, looking at the ceiling or talking to each other, but they stayed where they were. Opal returned, holding a white-wire lawn reindeer, the kind that nodded, in her arms.
“Would you mind taking this thing back to Nell? I don't think we'll be able to use it for the pageant.” She handed it over.
Annie took the reindeer from her a little awkwardly. “What should I tell her? Is it broken?”
“No. It nods just fine. But it gets me off the beat.”
“Oh. I guess you have enough to worry about.” Annie glanced sideways when her seven shepherds thundered by.
Opal clapped her hands. “Line up, please.”
They slowed their pace, but ran into each other nonetheless, shrieking with laughter. The choir director put a finger to her lips and they miraculously fell silent.
“Be good now,” Annie told them. “And, Opal, let me know if you need help with anything else.”
“I most certainly will,” Opal said fervently. “Thanks for stopping in.”
“Bye, Annie.” The crew-cut boy made a scout's salute, which she returned with a smile, doing her best to hang on to the reindeer.
“Bye, guys. Be good.”
Chapter 12
O
nce inside the saloon, Annie set the reindeer down in a booth, propping its front legs on the table as if it were waiting to be served.
She moved to the boxes Nell had hauled out of the closet and looked into a few. There were still a lot of decorations left. Someone else had helped her hang most of the colored lights, somewhat haphazardly. But that was how Nell liked to do things.
Whatever. Annie wasn't going to volunteer to do it perfectly, not if it meant risking a fall off a stepladder. The doctor's advice had stuck with her.
The empty boxes were stacked in size order, the small box with the question mark on it on top again. Annie picked it up, about to open it, when Nell appeared.
“What's in this one?” Annie asked.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you keeping it?”
“Well, it used to have something in it; I forget what. But I can't throw it away. What if the something shows up? Then I wouldn't have anything to put it in.”
Annie laughed. “I see.”
“Do you think you could help me get these tinsel garlands around the jukebox?” Nell asked. “You wouldn't have to get up on a chair or anything.”
“Believe me, I wasn't planning to.”
Nell searched through a glittering heap of garlands piled onto a booth table. “I only need you to hold one end. If I can find it.”
Annie came over. “There it is.” She reached in and held up a red tab.
“Excellent. Hold on to that.” Nell located the other end and began to walk away, pulling one of the garlands free of the others. On her way to the jukebox she grabbed a roll of duct tape and slid it over her wrist like a bracelet.
Annie followed slowly.
Nell draped her end of the garland around her neck while she stopped to rip off pieces of tape, positioning them around the back of the jukebox. It only took a few minutes for her to do the job once the tape was in place. Nell took the red tab from Annie and let it dangle, stepping back to admire the effect. “Let's make magic,” she said thoughtfully. She slipped a metal disc into the slot and punched the big plastic keys.
The first notes of a country-style Christmas carol triggered a display of light and color from the old-fashioned console that bounced off the tinsel and brightened the darkened saloon.
“Now isn't that pretty?” Nell sighed with happiness as she turned to Annie.
“It sure is. Good idea.”
Nell removed the duct tape bracelet and went behind the bar. “So can I get you anything?”
“No. Thanks though.”
“Why'd you come in, anyway?” Nell used a glass to scoop up ice cubes from the reservoir below the bar and pumped club soda into it from the bar nozzle. “Not that I mind seeing you.”
“Opal asked me to return Rudolph.” Annie pointed to the white-wire critter. “She said he nods the wrong way.”
“Oh. Well, I don't suppose there were lawn reindeer in Bethlehem anyway. He looks right at home in that booth. Maybe I'll leave him there.”
Annie shrugged. She went back to the other booth and untangled the rest of the tinsel garlands, looping them around her arm before she set them down in a loose circle.
“So how did you convince Mrs. Pearson to play piano for the Christmas pageant? I'm assuming that was your doing.”
“Yes, it was. I tell you, she was glad to get out when I promised to stay with Jack. She's only been leaving him to run quick errands, and not often. It's not good for her to be in the house so much. Or to have sole responsibility for his care.”
Annie gave her an inquiring look.
“I put in a call to social services about getting a home health-care aide for Jack. She was overwhelmed.”
“Did she say anything about her financial problems?”
“No. And I didn't ask. One thing at a time. You can't rush very old people.”
Annie understood what Nell was getting at, but Mrs. Pearson was still vulnerable. However, if the Pearsons had Nell in their lives again, they would probably be okay.
“What are you going to do with the rest of these garlands?” Annie asked.
Nell finished her club soda and motioned toward the old staircase at the back of the saloon. “I was thinking of winding them around the banister.”
“But no one goes up there. Didn't you tell me those rooms had been closed up for years?”
“Not anymore.” Nell gave her a twinkly look. “I was feeling enterprising, so I cleaned out the two in front. There was some great old Victorian furniture under all the junk.”
“And?”
Nell wiped down the bar with a clean white cloth until the mahogany gleamed. “I was thinking of fixing up a couple of private suites.”
“You mean to rent out? Like the cabin?”
“No, there weren't any beds. And I don't have a hotel license or plan to get one. I mean suites for poker games. Penny poker.” Nell waved away Annie's surprised look. “I'm not talking about serious gambling or hard drinking. But I'd make a mint on the beer and snacks. Plus the wives and girlfriends would know where their men were.”
“I see,” Annie said dryly. She thought of someone immediately. It was easy to imagine Marshall Stone at a card game, winning every hand, his expression never changing.
Nell left it at that. She bustled over to the bulletin board, removing old notices and putting up new ones with pushpins.
“You going to the Snow Ball, Annie?”
“Maybe.”
“How about
yes
? It's a great word. I love the sound of it.”
Annie eyed the saloon keeper with friendly suspicion. “If you don't mind my saying so, what's in it for you if I do say yes?”
“I'm on the planning committee.” Nell had pretty much filled the available space on the bulletin board when she walked away. “We need an emcee. I thought of you.”
Annie neatened up the garlands, just for something to do. “Why?”
“I can't do it. My ankles have been killing me. You'd have to stand, you know.”
“That's no big deal, but I've never done any emceeing.”
Nell gave a careless wave of her manicured hand. “You're so full of personality and pep, it doesn't matter. A stunner like you will get everyone's attention immediately.”
Right now, Annie wasn't feeling particularly stunning. In fact, she had avoided looking at her reflection in the mirror behind the display of liquor when she'd entered the saloon.
“I have a white Stetson you could wear,” Nell said casually. She looked at the bulletin board, not at Annie.
“The dance isn't outdoors.”
“No, but in a hat like that people will see you.”
“What if I don't want to be seen?”
Nell ignored the question, sauntering back to the bulletin board.
“And,” she went on, “I have a vintage western shirt that you'd probably like. Gorgeous. Also white.” The older woman hummed as she repositioned a flyer.
“Bring it on.” Annie actually was curious. She loved vintage duds.
“Wait until you get a load of this little number.” Nell turned to face her, smiling. “It's a classic cowgirl style. Fancy yoke with fringe, silver embroidery, and curved arrow pockets.”
“Sounds great.”
“Would you like to see it? I just happen to have it right here.”
Annie suppressed a smile as she nodded. Nell was obviously scheming up a storm. The older woman went over to a steamer trunk at the bottom of the back staircase and withdrew the shirt with a flourish.
“Wow,” Annie said. “It really is gorgeous.” The lavish embroidery had been expertly done by hand.
Nell held it against her. “I'm betting it'll be a perfect fit. Try it on.”
Annie didn't need to be talked into it. “I hope so.”
She'd seen shirts like it in a museum exhibit celebrating the era of the singing cowboys on TV. Nowadays there were plenty of reproductions, but nowhere near as well made. This one sported the label of a famous western designer from the 1950s.
“It's made for a woman, but somewhere there's a matching one for a lucky man,” Nell trilled. “The sweethearts of the rodeo used a needle and silk thread to rope their cowboys, you know.”
Annie almost didn't want to encourage her. But there was no stopping Nell when she was on a roll.
“Of course, a fancy shirt like that was intended for the parade around the ring before the bucking began,” the saloon keeper added.
Annie admired the stitching. “Where did you get this?”
“Didn't I ever tell you that my big sister was a rodeo rider?”
“No. Are you making that up?”
“Don't make me take out the photo albums,” Nell threatened. “Yes, she really was. Retired now. Bought a ranch in Arizona with her fifth husband.”
“Five?” Annie would get the whole story out of Nell some other time. “Good for her.”
“Sometimes it takes a while to figure out what you want in life, dear. Anyway, this was her favorite shirt. It's in perfect condition.”
Annie headed for the bathroom and whipped off her sweater, taking her time to put on the classic shirt and snap up the pearly snaps. She shot the cuffs as she gave a final shrug of her shoulders.
The shirt had been designed to do things for a girl. It clung to her curves in all the right places, but still looked ladylike. She turned to the side, noting the flirtatious flip of the fringe.
Incredible. She would have to go to the dance. There was no place else she could wear this and she didn't think for one minute that Nell would ever give it away.
She strolled out to show Nell.
“It does fit! Wonderful. You can take it home with you. So will you emcee?”
“Count on me.”
Nell gave her a hug.
“Easy,” Annie said with a laugh. “Don't wrinkle this.”
“Oh, goodness, it's not a museum piece. Before you go, though, if you could help me with just one more thing?”
“Of course. But I can't get dirty.”
Nell picked up the remaining garlands and nodded toward the staircase. “You won't. I swept and vacuumed every inch of that staircase. Let's get these wound around the banister.”
“Sure.”
“You go first. I guess we should see how long they are.”
Annie took the end that Nell handed her and went up the creaking stairs without doing any winding. “The garlands should be at least double the length of the banister, right? Maybe even triple.”
On the floor below, Nell frowned. “We might be a bit short. Oh dear. Just attach that tab, would you? There's a hook up there.”
Annie found it and hung the tab on it, turning to look at the garland that slithered down the stairs to Nell. “I think there's enough,” she began, resting a hand on the banister.
It gave way with a crack. Nell screamed.
Annie swayed on the landing, pressing her back against the wall to keep from falling. She didn't fall, but the banister did, toppling to the floor and breaking into pieces. Some of the side spindles went down with it and some stayed in place, sticking out at odd angles.
Nell swore and dropped the garlands. “Stay there.”
“Okay.” Annie was feeling a little shaky, but she knew the feeling would pass. “But don't come up. There's no telling what might give way next.”
“Can you get down?” Nell asked anxiously.
“Of course. Give me a sec. I want to be sure of my leg. I twisted it a little and these stairs are steep.”
“I'm so sorry, Annie. And after I've been up and down those stairs so many times too,” Nell fretted. “Want me to call someone?”
“No. I can always go down on my rear end, step by step. I used to do that when I was a kid. These jeans can take it.”
The door to the saloon opened. Annie looked down at Marshall Stone. His dark eyes widened when he took in her predicament.
“Whoa,” he said, his deep voice echoing in the sudden silence. Two or three long strides and he was standing directly beneath her. “What happened?”
“It's an old staircase. I guess it was an accident waiting to happen.” Nell put a hand on his arm to restrain him. “Don't go up. I think she'd better come down. Then we can rope it off. It's my fault. I should have known. It was so creaky. Oh, good-ness.”
Marshall looked up at Annie. “What do you want to do?”
She really didn't have a choice. “I'll come down now.” She did it the undignified way, on her rump. To his credit, he didn't crack a smile or tease her.
About halfway down, he reached out to take her hand and made sure she was safe. Near the bottom, she extended her legs and let him help her up.
She rose somewhat unsteadily. His strong hand clasped hers firmly as he led her to a table. “You okay?”
“Yes. For a black diamond staircase.”
Annie felt heat tint her cheeks under Marshall's steady gaze. If he liked the way she looked in the fitted cowgirl shirt, he seemed to know it wasn't the moment for a gentlemanly compliment. But she'd seen that smoldering look in his eyes before.
She just hadn't needed rescuing then.
“Nell, how about a cup of coffee?” Stone asked. “Make that two.”
“Coming up.” Nell fretted some more as she dashed about, clinking cups and saucers on a tray.
Annie thanked her when she came over to the table.
“Least I can do. Those oatmeal raisin cookies are from Jelly Jam. Sure cure for everything. Now how's that leg doing, young lady?”
“I think it's going to be fine.” It ached. That was about all.