The Christmas Vow (22 page)

Read The Christmas Vow Online

Authors: Shanna Hatfield

“At six.” Arlan nodded his head then hurried out the door.

Adam closed it behind him then returned to the parlor. Tia remained unmoving where he’d left her standing near the fireplace.

Quickly stoking the fire, Adam wrapped his arms around her from behind then pulled her against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. She shivered.

Uncertain if it was from the cold or her fears, part of him hoped it was from the pleasure of his touch.

“It’s all over, Tia. Mr. Bass isn’t going anywhere and with the confession he’ll no doubt give the sheriff, the judge won’t bother you anymore.”

Unexpectedly, Tia turned to face him, throwing her arms around him and burying her face against his chest. “Thank you for saving my baby. You are such a good man, Adam Guthry. Don’t ever forget it.”

He tipped her chin up so she could see his face and offered her a roguish grin. “I guess I better keep you around to remind me from time to time.”

She worked up something that resembled a smile, wiped away a few tears lingering on her lashes and pulled herself together as Toby raced into the room.

“Mama, may we please have hot chocolate and cookies?” Toby asked, tugging her toward the kitchen.

“I think that can be arranged.” Tia tapped his nose with her finger and gave him a tender glance. “Why don’t you check on Crabby? He’d probably like to come in and warm up by the stove for a while.”

Adam gave her a speculative glance as she poured milk into a pan and took chocolate out of the cupboard. “Are you sure that demonic ball of fur deserves to come inside?”

“How can you talk about Crabby that way?” Tia pointed her knife at him as she cut chocolate to melt for their drinks. “He’s just keeping an eye on things.”

Adam leaned one elbow on the counter and smirked. “Then I guess I better figure out how to make that cat a pair of blinders because sooner or later, I have every intention of having my way with you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

“Sir, there is someone here to see you.” Charles stood in the doorway of the parlor, his face an expressionless mask, perfected from years of working for the judge.

Cedric Devereux snapped the newspaper in his hands closed and glared at the butler. “Well, show him in, man. Don’t just stand there in the doorway like a post.”

“I believe, sir, given the nature of his, um… business, you might prefer to carry on the conversation elsewhere.” Charles tipped his head toward Catherine. The woman sat in a chair near the fire engrossed in a book.

“Very well,” Cedric huffed, rising to his feet and following Charles back to the foyer. A man of questionable appearance and an even more questionable reputation waited. Cedric approached him with a hateful glare and motioned for him to follow him down the hall into the library.

Angrily pushing the button on the wall to bathe the room in light from the electric lamps, Cedric marched over to his desk and took a seat. “I thought I made it perfectly clear, Mr. Smith, that you were to never come to my home, regardless of the nature of the matter.”

Mr. Smith sneered at Cedric and leaned back in the chair. “Ya might ‘ave mentioned that a time or two, but I figured ya’d want to hear this news straight away.”

Cedric leaned forward, resting his arms on the top of the desk. “And what news might that be?”

“The news that Mr. Bass won’t be bringin’ back yer grandson. Seems he tried to snatch him in broad daylight and got hisself shot in the kneecap then thrown in the hoosegow for his trouble. He ain’t gonna be too happy about that. None too happy at all. And if ya think Mr. Bass is gonna be as easy to get rid of as Mr. Nivens, ya might want to reconsider that line of thinkin’.”

Cedric stood and marched around his desk. “I’ve heard all I need to out of you this evening. In the future, send one of the messenger boys, but don’t show up here at my home again.”

Slowly, Mr. Smith rose to his feet and gave Cedric a long, calculating glance. “I reckon if ya want to be bossin’ me, it’s gonna cost ya. Either that, or I can waltz into yer fancy parlor down the hall and tell yer purty wife how ya got to be a powerful and mighty judge, cause it sure weren’t due to yer honor or hard work.”

Silently fuming, Cedric opened his desk drawer and withdrew a bag of coins, tossing them to Mr. Smith.

After opening the small bag and inspecting the contents, Mr. Smith tipped his head to Cedric. “Reckon I can show myself out just fine. Merry Christmas, Judge.”

Cedric waited until he was sure the man had departed then hurried down the hall. He found Charles in the entry foyer, mopping up the mud Mr. Smith had tracked onto the marble tiles.

“Charles, I need a ticket on the next train heading East. Send Ed to secure it while you pack a bag for me. Unfortunately, there is a nasty piece of business I need to attend to in some backwater town.”

“But, sir, it’s nearly Christmas.” Charles gaped at his employer.

The man never, ever dirtied his own hands. For him to decide to leave town either meant the law was about to catch up to him or he was up to no good. Truthfully, Charles didn’t care what caused the judge to leave. The prospect of a reprieve from Cedric’s demanding presence, even for a few days, filled him with a sense of relief.

“I don’t care. Get me that ticket and my bag!” Cedric shouted then stalked off in the direction of the parlor, inventing a story to tell his wife.

There was no time to waste if he planned to return home by Christmas with his grandson in hand.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

“Tell me again why we’re out here, freezing our feet before it’s even light out?” Adam asked as he, Arlan, Chauncy, Luke, and Blake trudged through the drifts of snow behind Luke’s house where trees grew abundantly on the surrounding hills.

“Because we won’t have time to cut down these trees later, that’s why. Between the Christmas Carnival, Christmas Eve services, and the folks arriving today, this is the last opportunity we’ll have to cut down Christmas trees,” Luke explained as they plodded on through the cold and dark.

Each of them carried a lantern. They’d left the horses and a wagon at the bottom of the hill. Although the rest of them had no idea where they were heading, Luke led the foray. He and Filly had walked out in the early autumn and marked a group of trees she thought would be perfect for festooning their homes for Christmas.

“Are you sure we aren’t walking in circles?” Adam asked as Luke guided them over a ridge.

“Positive,” Luke said, lifting his lantern higher and pointing to a dark shape in the distance.”I’m pretty sure that’s the stand of trees over there.”

“Too bad the girls are unable to join us,” Blake mused as he followed his brother-in-law.

“Someone would have needed to stay behind to watch the little ones and none of the girls would appreciate traipsing through this knee-deep snow before the sun has even touched the sky,” Chauncy said. He grinned at Arlan. “With the exception of Alex the Amazing, of course. No doubt, she’d enjoy it.”

“She would. In fact, she would have come along except she’s trying to finish numerous details for the last day of school before the holiday break and get ready for the carnival tomorrow.” Arlan turned to his brother. “You’ve probably noticed Alex is more of an outdoorsy girl than most. She’s even ridden Blake’s stallion, Romeo, bareback.”

Adam had admired the huge, spirited horse when he’d been at Blake and Ginny’s place. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. How is it you managed to make her fall in love with you?”

Arlan smiled. “I wielded all the charm I learned from watching you. And a little Christmas magic didn’t hurt, either.”

Adam chuckled as Luke stopped near a stand of fir trees. He walked around them and tugged a blue ribbon off a head-high branch.

“This is it. Filly marked the one she wanted, so feel free to choose whatever tree strikes your fancy,” Luke said, setting the lantern on a stump. He took a handsaw out of the pack on his back.

“Let’s wait until the sun at least rises so we can see what we’re chopping. It should be up shortly,” Blake said, leaning on the handle of the ax he carried. “I know Filly sent along a tin of cookies, Luke, so let’s have at them.”

“Tia made hot chocolate,” Adam said, removing a flask from his coat pocket. “Even if it is only mildly warm by now.”

“According to my daughter, Tia makes the ‘bestest chocolate in the world,’” Chauncy said, affecting a falsetto as he spoke.

The rest of them laughed and accepted the cookies Luke passed around. Adam took a drink from the flask then handed it to Arlan.

As they visited and ate the cookies, the sun peeped over the horizon, waving streamers of pink and gold across the morning sky.

“Now, that’s the way to start a day,” Adam said, breathing in the pine scented air and gazing at the sky overhead, painted by the Creator in an array of glorious colors.

The men set to work cutting down trees for their homes and one for the church.

After dragging them down the hill to the wagon, they rode into town.

Adam thought Toby might bounce himself silly as he hopped from one foot to the other, watching out the window as he and Arlan unloaded the tree and carried it to the back door. After trimming a few branches along the trunk, Arlan helped him carry it inside and set it in the parlor where Tia directed.

“Oh, it’s so lovely, Adam, and it smells divine.” Tia clapped her hands together and sniffed the aromatic air.

“Santa can come! We have a tree!” Toby cheered, jumping around the room with unbridled joy.

Tia swung him into her arms before he sent something crashing to the floor in his excitement.

“I need to get to the bank,” Arlan said, grinning at his nephew. “Toby, you keep these two out of trouble today.”

The little boy giggled. “I will, Uncle Arlan.”

Arlan smiled at Tia and nodded at his brother before departing. Adam went to the kitchen and removed the old coat he’d worn to keep from getting sap all over his pea coat. He was surprised the chore coat he’d left in his room at Arlan’s still fit him, although it was a little snug through the shoulders and chest.

Even though he’d worn gloves, he still managed to get sap all over his fingers. As he stood at the kitchen sink scrubbing them with soap, they seemed to get stickier and stickier.

The stream of water stopped as Tia turned it off and took a tall, thin bottle from a cupboard.

“What’s that?” Adam held his hands over the sink as she poured the liquid over his fingers and into his palms.

“Olive oil. I use it for cooking, but it might take off the sap. Just scrub it into your hands and I’ll let you know when you’re ready to wash them off.” She returned the bottle to the cupboard.

“You’re a bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Adam winked at her as he scrubbed.

“Don’t forget it,” she said, fighting her attraction to him with every breath she took. Bent over the sink, scrubbing his hands, she watched the muscles play along his shoulders and arms. He smelled like leather and pine with a hint of chocolate from the drink she’d made early that morning before he left on the tree-hunting expedition.

Perhaps Adam wasn’t the most debonair or refined gentleman, but he was kind, caring, brave, and strong. And he was hers.

Whether he admitted it or not, she knew his heart. Knew he still cared for her or he never would have married her.

At least, she hoped that played a part in his decision to become a husband to her and a father to Toby.

The little boy ran into the room, clearly enthused about the tree in the parlor. He flopped down on the floor by Crabby, telling the cat all about the tree and the pretty decorations that would go on it, and hanging a stocking by the fire.

“Is tonight the night when Santa comes?” Toby asked, glancing at his mother.

She shook her head. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Tomorrow. Rather than wait until tomorrow to decorate the tree, we should do it this evening.”

“That’s a fine plan,” Adam agreed, still rubbing the oil into his hands.

Tia leaned over to look at his fingers. “Keep scrubbing.”

He held up his oily hands and pretended to reach for her but she squealed and spun away, causing Toby to laugh.

“You’re silly,” the little boy said, pointing to them both.

Tia made a funny face, making Toby laugh even harder.

“Someone has a bad case of the giggles today,” Adam said, glancing over his shoulder at Toby. “What do you think would cure it? Some castor oil?”

Toby stared at Adam, unsure if he was serious or not. When his stepfather grinned, Toby resumed laughing.

“Peppermints, and gingerbread, and building a snowman with Daddy, and skating with Erin would fix it.” Toby’s face held an impish look as he rattled off his list.

“Oh, you think you’re being clever, don’t you my little giggle box?” Tia picked up Toby and tickled his tummy, swinging him around in her arms.

When she finally set him down, Toby wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tight. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, too, baby.” Tia playfully swatted his rear. “Go wash your hands and we’ll eat breakfast.”

Tia turned on the water and handed Adam the soap. “You may wash your hands now.”

He tipped his head to her with a solemn expression. “Yes, your highness.”

“That’s Queenie to you,” she said, bumping his thigh with her hip and casting a saucy smile his direction.

Desire heated the blue of his eyes as he grinned at her. “You keep doing that, Queenie-pie, and you might get yourself into more trouble than you can handle.”

Later that evening, she and Adam sat in the flickering light from the parlor fire. As they shared memories from their past and drank cups of spicy tea, Tia didn’t want the evening to end.

After decorating the tree, they tucked Toby into bed with promises of a busy day awaiting him tomorrow.

By unspoken agreement, Tia and Adam returned to the parlor and sat together on the sofa, admiring the tree and enjoying their time together.

Suddenly, Adam set down his teacup and shifted so Tia rested against his side with his arm around her.

More content than she could ever recall feeling, she sighed and relaxed against him.

“This is nice, Adam. Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, watching the firelight dance through her hair. His fingers itched to remove her hairpins and bury themselves in the waves, but he bid his time.

“For bringing home such a lovely tree, and making the day so memorable for Toby. I’m not sure how he’ll get through tomorrow, as wound up as he was tonight.”

“You remember how exciting it was when you still believed in Santa Claus and the hope of what he might bring.”

“Who says I still don’t believe?” Tia lifted her head and looked back at Adam, grinning.

“What is it you want Santa to leave for you, little girl?” Adam asked in a deep rumbling voice, causing shivers of delight to wash over Tia.

“If I tell you, Santa might not bring it.” She took another sip of her tea.

“Let’s play a guessing game and I’ll figure out what it is you want.”

“Nope. It never mattered how hard I tried, you always beat me at those games. I’m not playing.” As she took another sip of the spicy tea, she settled closer against him. “What do you want for Christmas, Adam? What’s the one gift you’d like to receive Christmas morning?”

You.

A vision of Tia with all that magnificent hair spilling around her in his bed made his muscles tense while his blood heated in his veins.

Adam cleared his throat. “If I listened to what you’ve said the past few weeks, I haven’t been a very good boy, so Santa will most likely leave a lump of coal for me.”

Tia turned around and gazed at him, studying the stubbly growth of whiskers on his jaw and chin, the hint of the dimple in his cheeks, the tousled mess of his hair that she adored.

“Please, Adam? Tell me what you’d like for Christmas.”

Purposefully ignoring her pleading, he changed the subject. “Why did you leave?”

“Leave?” Tia asked, baffled by his question. “I only ran to the mercantile for a few minutes to get more baking chocolate before supper.”

“Not today.” Adam sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Why did you leave Hardman?”
Why did you leave me?

The moment she set eyes on Adam at Carl’s funeral, she knew she’d eventually have to tell him the truth. The last thing she wanted to do this evening, though, was have that painful conversation.

Still unsure of his feelings for her, she was afraid to tell him why she left, why she settled for Patrick.

“Why did you go away, Tia?” Adam asked in a voice that betrayed the anguish she’d caused. “I thought you’d be back in a few weeks and we’d plan a future together. Two weeks turned into a month then your grandmother broke the news to me that you’d wed some attorney twelve years older than you. I just don’t understand why, Tia.”

Carefully returning her teacup to the saucer in her hand, Tia set them aside and took a deep breath. “I left, Adam, because the only thing in this world I wanted at that time was you. I wanted to marry you, to be your wife, to have your babies, to spend every moment of every day making you happy.”

Although his face remained impassive as he stared at her, his eyes expressed his shock. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true, Adam.” Tia placed her hand on his arm, needing to touch him. “I waited all spring for you to ask me to marry you. When graduation came and went without you saying a word… Grandma thought it might do me good to get away for a week or two and see something new. She was mostly tired of my moping around, convinced you didn’t love me, at least not the way I loved you.”

Both of their glances turned to the opal on her finger, glittering in the firelight. “Adam, if I’d known about the ring, known you planned to propose, I never would have left. I didn’t know you loved me.”

“How could you not know, Tia? Every person in town knew I was head over heels in love with you.” Adam raised both his voice and temper.

Tia held a finger to his lips. “Shh. You’ll wake Toby.”

He dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. “Even if I didn’t say the words, you should have known by my actions.”

What Adam said was true, but she’d needed to hear him say it, to confess his feelings for her — and he never had. Perhaps he never would.

Adam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. “So you went off to Portland without the intention of staying and fell madly in love with Patrick Devereux.”

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