Once Upon a Christmas (5 page)

He shook his head. “We’ll have to do something special to celebrate, even if it is late.” He stepped from the car and came around to help her out, then guided her up the walk with a hand just touching her back.

Do I ask him to come in? No, too late. Harley barked from inside.

“Your watchdog.” He looked down at her, then leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips across hers. “I never believed in love at first sight.”

“Me, either.”

“Good night.” He stepped back.

She dug her keys out of her purse and floated up the steps. “Night. And thank you for a marvelous evening.”

“You’re welcome.” He touched a finger to his forehead and returned to the truck.

So did his comment mean he now believes in love at first sight or…?

“I’m coming, Harley, hang on to your collar.”

I
wish he were going to church with me.

Harley yipped at the back door.

“I’m coming.” She threw the bedcovers back with a sigh. Staying in her daydreams would have been nicer, but dogs didn’t understand that. She touched her mouth and could still feel the gentle brush of Thane’s lips. And his parting comment, “I used to not believe in love at first sight.” No, that wasn’t exactly the way he said it, but was the upshot that now he did believe in love at first sight?

Intellectually she knew true love grew over a long period of time, but attraction could double whammy one instant quick. Lord, let him be a believer. I think he is but what do I know? She set the coffee maker to work, let the dog back in and wandered to stand at the front window where sun cast stripes and shadows on the carpet through half-opened slats. It didn’t pack the zest of a summer sun, to be sure, but a blustery winter day was indeed invigorating. And besides, she might see him this afternoon.
The coffee machine beeped. She fixed Harley’s breakfast, much to his tail-wagging delight, poured herself a cup of coffee and danced and twirled to her bedroom to dress for church. Much as she preferred the ten o’clock service, today she would do the 8:30.
Ah, Lord, I have so much to be thankful for. If this could be the man you meant for me, please make it clear. I don’t want to make a mistake. But, oh, how special he makes me feel.

Sitting in church some time later, she wished again he were sitting beside her. Would they go to this church or his? Does he have a church? Another major question to ask. So much to learn.

Keeping her mind on the music was not hard, for she loved to sing. Keeping her mind on the sermon, now that was a different matter. Finally she forced herself to take notes on the border of the bulletin.
To love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, strength and mind. Ah, how I want that. To love my neighbor as myself. Loving my neighbor wouldn’t be hard in Thane’s case.
She caught a giggle before it reached her mouth.

With a sigh of relief she stood for the closing hymn. Now to deliver her folder of camera-ready copy for the singing Christmas tree program. Since this was an event offered to the community, they always needed hundreds of programs. The church would be standing room only for all three performances.

She slid through the crowd, exchanging greetings but not stopping to chat. If she could get four hours of work in, she wouldn’t feel so guilty being gone for an hour or two.

A blinking light on the answering machine greeted her return home. Please let it be Thane. She crossed her fingers as she played the messages, after greeting an ecstatic Harley. You’d think she’d been gone for days instead of two hours.

“Sorry, Blythe, I’m going to have to cancel for today. I’ve got an emergency in the city. I’ll call you later if I can get out of there early enough to do dinner, that is, if you’d like to. I had a great time last night, thank you.”

Blythe sank onto a chair with a sigh. Rats and double rats. Harley put his paws up on her knees and peered into her face. His droopy eyes made her smile and rub his ears. “Not your fault, Harley, boy. So much for a fun afternoon. Now I’m just going to have to work all day. Which is probably best, but still.” She kissed the top of his head and pushed against his chest. “You get down now, so I can get going.”

The afternoon slid by with only two phone calls and neither of them from Thane. Her sister Suzanne, apologized for missing her birthday. Blythe mentioned she had met a man, kind of slid the comment in under the general conversation.

Her sister finished her story, paused, started to say something, then paused again. “What was that you said? Did you mention the word ‘man’?”

“Yes.” Blythe rolled her lips together to keep from giggling.

“And you are seeing this man?”

“Yes.” And is he ever easy on the eyes.

“Blythe Marie Stensrude, quit the games and tell all.”
Her voice took on a big sister commanding tone. “Where did you meet him and what is his name?”

“Well, actually, Harley met him first.” She didn’t mentioned the loose dog fiasco.

“Blythe, if I have to come over there and drag the story out of you, I will.” Suzanne waited. “I know, let’s do a girls’ night out and…”

“I can’t.”

“Blythe, honey, this is Sunday, a day of rest. You are not supposed to be working on Sunday.”

Guilt made Blythe hunch her shoulders. “I know, but I have too much to do. But that isn’t why I can’t join you.”

“It better be good.”

“How come when I suggest a girls’ night out, you always have a million excuses and I’m supposed to just understand?” Her sister’s favorite phrase: “you understand, I know.”

“Sorry, but this is different.”

“You’ll have to understand this time. Thane said he’d figure something for dinner if he could get away in time.”

“You mean you’re just sitting there waiting for this guy to call?”

“Hardly. I need to get back to my friend, the computer.”

“No way. His full name?”

“Thane Davidson, I met him at the marina. He was walking his basset named Matty. Harley and I walk with Josie, the dog walker I told you about. She walks Matty. I just hadn’t met Matty’s owner before.” But I have now and I’d rather go out with him than you, sorry, dear sister.

“Harley likes him?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Okay, sweetie, but you better keep me posted. Have you told Mom yet?”

“Nope and don’t you, either. This man is not ready to pass the Mom quiz. Or the family gathering. So don’t nag at me.”

“
Moi?
Nag?”

“Bye, Suz.” Blythe hung up and headed for the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Red Zinger sounded good about now.

But Thane didn’t call that afternoon or that evening.

“So, he couldn’t get away. We know how that is, huh, dog?”

Harley whapped her calf with his tail as he spun around, before heading for the back door.

“All right.” She let him out for a last run and fixed herself another cup of herbal tea. Any caffeine now and she could kiss sleep goodbye, no matter how tired she was. She pulled open the freezer and studied the ice-cream choices—she’d stocked up since her birthday. Six ice-cream pint cartons lined up two deep. Vanilla with chocolate almonds, vanilla bean, jamocha almond fudge, strawberry and chocolate chocolate chip. How to choose? She tested each carton to see which was lightest. Vanilla bean won out so she pulled a jar of fudge sauce from the fridge and set it in the microwave to warm. Nothing like a hot fudge sundae on a Sunday evening. She fixed Harley a small bowl without the fudge. Now if only that phone call would come.

They settled in the living room for a movie on the Hall
mark channel. Harley finished his ice cream and nosed the dish around, licking it until the dishwasher couldn’t have washed it better. She ate hers slowly, savoring every bite. Maybe she should call him just to chat. Maybe not. He didn’t seem the chat-on-the-phone kind of guy. When the movie came on and she saw men riding across the hills with guns to the ready, she switched it off. Even if it had been Sam Elliott.

She met with clients in the morning, leaving some finished projects and picking up new ones, dropped books off at the library, picked up cleaning at the cleaners and went by the bank to make a deposit. Back at the office, she returned phone calls, accepting one job and turning the next one down.

“Sorry, I just can’t meet that tight a deadline.” Mentally she patted herself on the back. Wish I could talk with Thane about it. How had that thought leaped in? Funny how thoughts of him had a way of sneaking in when she least expected it. Not that she ever really expected it. This was new to her.
Father, keep him safe and help him work out whatever is taking up his time.

“Come on, Harley, we need a walk.” All along the paths she hoped to see him or hear Matty, but that was silly. He only came down in the morning. Tuesday morning they walked at eight. No man and no dog. You could call him, you know. Sure and if he acts like he’s never met me, then what. She buried herself in work to close off that argument, but a snobby voice whispered, you’re just a fraidy-cat.

By Wednesday, she’d slammed the door on every
thought of him, including prayers. He’d started out great. So had some of the others.

“Uh-oh.” June locked her fists on her hips as Blythe and Harley strode by. “Things took a nosedive.”

“I got tired of blond.” On the hour she’d allowed herself for lunch, she went to the store, picked out a box of hair color, and did the deed.

“Uh-huh, and you be courtin’ the wee folk with yer new Irish look.”

Sorry, your accent isn’t right yet.
But just because she was feeling snippy, no need to take it out on someone else. “Do you like it?” She doffed her smash hat and fluffed her hair with her fingers. Today was warm enough that she didn’t need gloves, or a hat really, either.

“Must be the sun that’s makin’ it look like a halo of fire.”

“A wash or two and it’ll lighten up. You want to walk with us?”

“Thankee, but me own work be callin’ me.”

“When’s your first performance?”

Harley tugged on the leash, leaning as far forward as he could with his front feet planted.

“Right after New Year’s. I’ll get you tickets.”

“Thanks.” You think they’ll let Harley in?

They made a fast trip through the park, again empty of Thane and Matty, ignored the latte stand and punished the pavement home. More and more she stretched the old adage, hard work cures a broken heart. Not that she was going to allow a man to break her heart. Not now. Not ever.

She returned the call from her mother that had been on the machine.

“We have your Christmas tree, dear, when should Dad bring it over?”

“Mother, I told you, I’m not doing Christmas this year. I’ll just enjoy the tree at your house on Christmas Day.” And if there was any way of getting out of that, I’d do it.

S
o you’re here today. So, do I care?

Harley tugged on the leash, back feet scrabbling on the gravel.

Sure dog, you see your best friend and you want to go running to her. You don’t care that you haven’t seen her for five days and she didn’t even call.

Maybe I ought to learn something from my dog.

Being dragged along by a basset in full strength was not a pretty picture, she was sure. Planting her feet did no good and since she didn’t want to go airborne, she donned a mantel of dignity and strolled—well, not exactly strolled. Harley had her nearly jogging, but giving the impression of strolling seemed to be important at the moment.

Matty was obviously doing the same thing. Thane didn’t seem to be resisting like she was.

“Good morning.” His greeting sounded like he’d seen her the day before.

How was she to get cheer back in her voice? Was she glad to see him? Not necessarily. She’d just talked herself out of looking for him, wanting to see him, hear his voice…to yell at him for letting her down just like all the others had. Oh, to be able to ignore the leap of her heart. Be still had about as much effect as telling Harley to stop, sit or quit barking.

She plastered a smile on her face and glanced down at the dogs who were sniffing, yipping and bouncing, their joy bubbling and bursting.

“Blythe, what? Ah, you look different.”

She looked up to see straps of a backpack digging into his shoulders. What is going on? He brought his breakfast along? “Sorry. Good morning to you, too.” Although there’s not much good in it yet.

“You dyed your hair.”

“Yeah, well, I do that sometimes.”

He turned so she could see the child in the backpack, a little girl by the pink stocking hat. Had he been holding out on her? The child stared at her, one finger in her mouth, her cheek against Thane’s back.

“I’d like you to meet my niece, Amie. She’s three and not too happy at the moment.”

She looked like she’d been crying, eyes red, mouth drooping. “I see. Hi, Amie.”

The little girl sniffed and turned her face the other way.

Blythe felt like doing the same, but curiosity had a headlock on her now. Where is her mother? He said niece, so this was not his daughter. Relief lightened the weights on her cheeks and eyes. Questions rose like steam from a kettle.

“Shall we walk?”

Blythe nodded and fell in step beside him, going back the way she’d come. But before they could take three steps, she bent down to untangle the dog leashes. Taking a moment to gather her fragmented mind, she patted both dogs and sweet-talked them, receiving quick licks and delighted wiggles in return.

When she straightened back up, she caught him watching her. A smile that started with the right corner of his mouth, slowly spread to include his whole mouth and finally reached his eyes made her catch her breath. What was it shining in his eyes? Sure seemed like the look her father saved especially for her mother. Wasn’t there an old song about the “look of love”?

She swallowed and took in a shoulder-raising breath. That look had zinged straight to her heart and set it to kettle drumming. I’ve missed you. Why didn’t you call? “The dogs are sure happy.” Now.

“One of these days I’ll explain what all has happened.”

She glanced up to see his jaw set again. There must be some awful kind of trouble for him to have his niece. And he must have had her overnight since they were together this early in the morning. Her mind took off on all kinds of possibilities.

“I’m taking some time off work until things settle down. You have any experience with little girls?”

“Actually I have two nieces myself.” She knew her tone was guarded but discussions about children had never been her forte. She glanced up at the child in the backpack. She had fallen asleep, thumb and finger still in her mouth, eyelashes feathered on rounded cheeks.

“Amie is sound asleep.”

“I shouldn’t have thrown her into her clothes so fast but I wanted to meet you here.”

“Has she had breakfast?”

“A cereal bar. I need to go shopping. Will you come?”

“I’ve never had children.”
And I’m not taking a life-threatening chance like that.

“I know—neither have I—but I thought perhaps together, we could, I mean, oh…” He paused and shook his head. “This poor little kid has been jerked around, her mom is gone and here she’s stuck with me. I haven’t seen her for six months and that’s a long time in a life this short.”

Amie woke with a jerk, whimpering, “Mommy? I want my Mommy.” Tears threatened again.

“See what I mean?”

Blythe heard the misery in the child’s voice and saw it on Thane’s face. A fast rundown of her list of to-do’s for the day made her groan inside. How could she find time to help out and yet make her deadlines? While her nieces adored her and she them, she hadn’t gotten close until they were older. Small children—huh-uh.

“My house is not set up for this, I have as much of her things as I could fit in my SUV, the bed went on top. We made quite a picture driving up from San Diego.”

“Unca Fane, I gotta go potty.” She wriggled and sighed.

“Can you wait a…oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?” Blythe stepped back. “Oh.” She could see a wet spot spreading on his back. The urge to giggle swept over her. She clapped a hand over her mouth to trap the rising laughter.

“I see no humor in this. I think we’ll go home now.” He picked up the pace, heading for the parked truck.

“Did you drive?” She turned and walked with him.

“Yes, the truck is in the parking lot by the pier.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see you later then.”

“I’m serious. I really need some help, you know any good day care places?’

“You mean now?”

“You wouldn’t ask if you saw my house.”

Blythe thought of her morning’s plan and gave up with a sigh. “I can manage a couple of hours. Why don’t you drop me at my house, I’ll put Harley in and follow you?”

“Blythe, I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am.” The look on his face confirmed his statement.

Amie whimpered as he swung his backpack off his shoulders. “Mommy coming?”

“No, baby, Mommy isn’t coming. We’ll get you home and…”

“I want Mommy.”

The plea tore at Blythe’s heart.
Did the mother die or—or what?

“Did you bring any other clothes?”

“Not here.” He flipped up the bar on the kiddie seat. “Here you go.”

“I wet.” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

“I’ll fix that when we get home. Get in the car seat, please.”

Matty leaped up on the seat. Amie shrieked and stumbled backwards, her cries echoing in the vehicle. “No, no, doggy bad. No!”

Do I take the dog or the child? Fearing to make the child worse, Blythe took hold of Matty’s leash. “Come, Matty, there’s a good girl.”

“She’s afraid of dogs, too. Right now, she’s afraid of everything.” Thane glanced over his shoulder to make sure Blythe heard him as he held the little girl close. “Easy, Amie, it’s all right. Blythe has Matty and all you need to do is get in your chair so we can go home and clean you up.”

Still sniffing, she finally did as asked, rubbing her eyes. “Mommy.”

The whimper burrowed into Blythe’s soul. Danger! Danger! This little one wanted her mommy and it wasn’t her. She planned never to sign on to mommyhood. How long would Thane have the child and
what happened
to her mother? And while off to a rocky start, this relationship
had
been a possibility…a now dimming possibility.

Thane put Matty up in the back, behind a screen. “Now you stay, hear me?” Matty thumped her tail.

Telling Harley to stay is like telling Christmas not to come. Blythe reached down and stroked his head.

“Here, can you two share the front seat?”

“Of course.” She motioned Harley to jump up to the floor, which he did just fine. Except he then scrambled up on the seat before she could climb in. He grinned at her, tail thwacking the console. “Down, Harley.” She pointed to the floor. He looked down and then away, as if to say, you can’t mean for me to sit down there. “I do mean it.” She tugged on his leash. “Moving him is like shifting a concrete block.”

“Get him out and I’ll hold him until you get in, then he’ll have to stay on the floor.”

Blythe nodded. They could have been halfway home by now. She tugged on the leash. Harley planted his feet. “Harley, come.” He wagged his tail and doggy-grinned.

Thane stepped around Blythe, scooped up the dog and set him on the ground. “Hand me the leash.”

Blythe did so, climbed up in the SUV, leaning her knees toward the middle so Harley had room on the floor. Once inside, he looked at her like she’d betrayed him. Good thing it’s a short trip home. He’s not going to like being left, either, but what can I do?

Once he was home and engrossed in destroying a new chew bone, she returned to the truck, to hear Amie crying again. Matty whimpered from the back but before they made it to Alhambra, the dog broke into a howl. Amie looked over her shoulder, her cries cut off like someone threw a switch.

“Matty, that’s enough.”

Blythe watched Thane’s jawline turn white.

The dog howl wound down to a whimper. The child sniffed and muttered, “Bad doggy.”

“This scene would win funniest home videos.”

“Thank you very much. I’m glad you don’t own a camera.”

“We could go back so I could get it, but you could never stage it to work again.”

“You’re not funny.”

“Come on, Thane. This is one of those ‘if you don’t laugh, you’re going to have to cry’ times. It’ll get better.”

“Wait until you see my house.”

He was right. Blythe stood in the doorway of what must have been a well-decorated bachelor pad, once. Black leather furniture and glass tables—strictly modern and utilitarian. Not a trace of family or color. Other than the painting over the fireplace. What might be three tulips against a background of layered oil paints that looked sculpted with a trowel, hung in solitary splendor. If one liked that kind of art.

Stuffed bears, dolls and a giraffe spilled out of boxes, a pink Big Wheel-style trike, jammies, pink overalls, shirts and a robe trailed from other boxes, hair bows and barrettes littered the smoked glass coffee table, a pink fleece blanket on the leather recliner, a juice glass on the counter.

“I put her bed up in my office. Now I have to move all the office equipment into my bedroom. We need a chest of drawers, all this put away and the closet is full of my business suits. I have nothing in the cupboards for a little girl to eat, and not much for me since I rarely eat at home. You begin to get a small piece of this puzzle?”

Amie ran for her blankie and, tucking it under her chin, climbed up on the sleek sofa.

Thane picked her up. “Let’s get you dry before you sit there.”

The wet spot made the leather look even darker.

Blythe headed for the kitchen, wet a paper towel and wiped down the leather. Surely the little girl hadn’t sat there long enough to make the leather smell. What did one clean leather with? She found the trash in the pantry, tossed the towel and stared around. Where to start?

Thane walked back into the room, Amie walking beside him, hanging on to one of his fingers. Her blankie trailed behind.

“Perhaps we should go shopping. First a chest of drawers and a toy box, then a house.” He shrugged at her shocked look. “Perhaps tomorrow for the house.”

What kind of man is this? Blythe ignored his smile, hard as that was, and surveyed the mess. “We could stack these boxes against a wall for now.”

“They were stacked, until I needed to find clothes for her and she insisted on a bear to sleep with. The blanket wasn’t sufficient.” He leaned over to pat his dog. “Oh, and did I tell you? I hate clutter.”

“Far as I know, clutter comes with kids, part of the package. Let’s move this stuff to the other room, the bike could go out on your deck. We’ll go buy the furniture and then begin the shuffle.”

“Who’ll watch Amie while we shop?”

“We take her with us.”

The look of shock made him appear more like other earthly men.

Amie dug in one box and pulled out a well-loved doll, missing one arm. She started toward the sofa. Matty trotted over and grabbed a corner of the blanket hanging off the sofa. Tail wagging, she headed for her bed in the corner, the pink square dragging behind.

Amie let out a shriek, threw the doll down and ran for her blankie. Matty charged under the dining table, hanging on to her prize, tail up, declaring this a wonderful new game.

“Drop it, Matty.” Thane’s order might as well have been smoke.

Amie dove under the table, Matty charged down the hall, blankie in full flight.

“You get the kid, I’ll get the dog.”

“Not on your life. You get the child, I’ll get the dog.” Blythe charged down the hall after Matty, into a bedroom the size of her living room with a bed big enough for four. No dog. “Matty, where are you?” The walk-in closet was the size of most bathrooms, with everything hanging or folded neatly in its place, but had no dog. He has more clothes than Imelda Marcos has shoes. She backed out and shut the door. No dog in the royal bathroom, either. “Matty, where are you?”

Blythe got down on her knees and peered under the bed. Matty wagged her tail. “Come on, girl. Let the little one have her blankie.” She could hear screaming coming from the living room.
Thank you, God, that I only have to worry about the dog.
She reached for the corner of the blanket nearest her and Matty growled. Not a warning growl, but a “let’s play some more” growl.

Blythe collapsed on her stomach, giggling into her arms.

The screams died to whimpers and the whimpers sounded close. Blythe turned to look. Thane and child stood in the doorway.

“She won’t come out.”

“Matty, bones.”

The dog charged out from under the bed, her tail whipping Blythe across the face.

“You just have to know the right words.”

She spit dog hair out of her mouth, half crawled under the bed to reach the blanket and crawled back out. No one needs a bed that big anyway.