The Secret Christmas Child

Then he watched morosely as Gabby talked and laughed with the boys, seeming completely comfortable as she knelt to look at each dog, asked questions and really listened to the answers.

Tammy pulled herself together and set out breakfast rolls, fruit and juice at the long table at one end of the barn, and that drew all of the boys to focus. She turned on the inspirational podcast they always listened to as they ate, and Reese gestured Gabby back into his office.

It didn’t seem right to be angry about what she’d done, now that his cousin was gone. It was just that seeing her had brought back all the memories of what he’d hoped for, back when he’d been young and naive, thinking the world was basically a good place and that things would get better once he was grown up and free from his aunt and uncle’s house.

“Nice kids,” she said, her hand on the back of the chair in front of his desk. “But I assume you don’t want me to work for you.”

“You were good with the boys,” he said.

“I like kids.” She shrugged. “Plus, I get what it’s like to be the one who gets in trouble.”

“I’m sure you do.” When Gabby had arrived in Bethlehem Springs in the fifth grade, the word was that she’d gotten sent to the principal’s office most days.

She’d settled down by the time he’d arrived in middle school. He’d acted out some, too—you could hardly help it when you’d lost your parents suddenly and moved into a new school and a family who didn’t much want you.

That was why he’d latched on to the job with this grant-funded program as soon as he’d been cleared to work. He felt like he understood boys who were struggling. The fact that the grant funding was running out was currently his biggest worry. “Listen,” he said, “it’s probably not a good idea long term, but I need help pulling this Christmas Camp together. Starting next week, all the boys will be here full days, and like you just saw, I can’t handle them alone. If you’re willing, I’d like to offer you a temporary contract, through Christmas.”

“Really?” She stared at him. “You can work with me?”

It might kill him, but for the sake of the boys, he could do it. “Think about it,” he said. “I know you have to watch out for your grandmother. If you need to run over here and there, it’s fine.”

She bit her lip, opened her mouth and then closed it again.

“If you could decide in the next day or two, that would be great.”

She shook her head rapidly. “I don’t need a day or two. I already know I want the job.”

“Then I’ll draw up a contract.”

“Reese...”

He looked up from his desk. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this?”

“I’m sure. You can start on Monday.”

“Okay, then.” She reached across the desk, offering a handshake.

He’d already encountered that awkward move before, so he knew how to deflect it by extending his left hand. He gripped hers, and the sensation of touching her travelled straight to his heart.

She must have felt it, too, because she pulled her hand away, thanked him and hurried out of his office.

Leaving him to remember that it had always been like that with them: electric, dangerous as an exposed wire.

Now it felt more dangerous than ever.

Chapter Two

Gabby had always loved the fact that, despite being a small town, Bethlehem Springs had a train station. As a kid, she’d come here with her grandfather to watch the trains. As a restless adolescent, hanging around the station had given her a sense of being able to leave at a moment’s notice, to get to the bright lights of Chicago or New York or, more realistically, Cleveland or Columbus. She’d gone to and from college on the train. And when everything had blown up in Bethlehem Springs that horrible summer after her sophomore year, she’d packed her things and taken the train to start a new life.

Today, though, she wasn’t leaving; she was staying, getting more tied down and domesticated. It had been eighteen months since she’d seen her half brother at her mother’s funeral, and they hadn’t exactly gotten along. He’d been understandably grief stricken about losing their mother and upset at the prospect of going to live with his father, and he’d begged Gabby to let him come live with her.

But at twenty-one and pregnant with a baby she’d in no way planned for, she hadn’t felt qualified to become the guardian of a brother she barely knew. Besides, surely Jacob’s father would do a better job taking care of him.

The father, unfortunately, hadn’t supervised Jacob well. Her brother had gotten into trouble for some minor vandalism, and rather than help him work through it, his father had shipped the poor kid off to military school. Jacob had just completed his first term, and somehow, he was coming to spend the Christmas break with Nana rather than going back to California to stay with his father. He was to arrive on the 6:00 a.m. train.

The platform was spooky-dark, with mist rising from the ground and clouds ominous overhead. Huddled in her heavy parka on the outdoor platform, she wished she’d thought to bring mittens and a hat.

Maybe she should’ve borrowed a dog from Reese’s kennels, too, because it was awfully creepy here. Lots of rustling in the bushes that lined the far edge of the platform. Loud, screeching noises of what might have been an owl on the hunt.

Another car arrived at the parking lot beside the platform. A man, solo, got out.

Chills shook Gabby’s already shivering body. It was still black darkness outside, and according to her app, the train wouldn’t arrive for another twenty minutes. Running late, like so many passenger trains did these days.

The man sat down on a bench at the other end of the platform. That was weird, right? If he’d been a normal person, he’d have come over here and said hello.

But maybe he just wasn’t sociable. He carried no luggage that she could see, so he must be picking someone up. Maybe he just treasured his last minutes of solitude.

He was looking in her direction.

Maybe he was a criminal who was going to cut her into a million pieces and throw her onto the train tracks.

“Gabby?”

Relief made her limbs go limp. It was Reese, and he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She stood to greet him, her heart still pounding just as hard as when she’d thought he was a dangerous stranger.

“I’m here to pick up a boy who’s starting our program. His mom works the night shift and won’t be off for another hour, so I offered to pick him up for her.”

Above and beyond. That didn’t surprise her; Reese had always gone the extra mile without thinking of his own convenience. “I’m here for my brother,” she told him, even though he hadn’t asked. But talking seemed to calm her nerves, at least a little. “He’s staying with me and Nana and...me and Nana. For the holidays.” She should have just casually mentioned Izzy—Oh, didn’t you know I have a baby?—but she didn’t, even though this would be Izzy’s first Christmas, and Gabby hoped to make it special. Keeping Izzy’s existence a secret from Reese was a cowardly thing, and fruitless—he’d find out soon enough—but she was pretty sure it would upset him, and at 6:00 a.m., she couldn’t handle that. “I thought there’d be coffee here. Didn’t the station used to be open, with a little concession area?”

“Hard times.” He nodded at the steaming cup he was carrying. “I’d offer you some of mine, but...”

He didn’t have to say it. There had been a time when sharing a beverage would have been as normal as breathing, but that time was past. “It’s okay,” she said. “Good for me. I’m too addicted.”

“Where’s your brother coming from?” He frowned down at her. “Did I even know you had a brother?”

“Probably not,” she said. “He’s my half brother, and I didn’t really know him, didn’t talk about him much. He grew up with Mom.” She was over her resentment about that, mostly. Mom had raised her son—well, she’d done the best she could—but she’d dumped her daughter on Nana without a backward glance. “He’s been at Smith Military Academy since September.”

“That’s where the kid I’m picking up—” he gestured toward the tracks “—that’s where he’s coming from, too.”

A whistle, high and mournful, blew their way on a gust of cold wind, and then a light appeared way down the track. A moment later the train’s engine was audible. Both Reese and Gabby stood.

Dawn was just lightening the edge of the sky when two boys disembarked from the train, the only passengers to do so. As they put down their duffels, stretched and looked around, the train pulled away again.

“Hey, Mr. Markowski!” The blond boy stuck out a hand in polite greeting.

“Connor. Hope you had a good trip. This is Gabby Hanks.”

“Hi,” Gabby said with a quick smile for the boy, but she was distracted with staring at her brother. He’d shot up several inches since she’d last seen him, and young as he was, it looked like he needed a shave. Dark circles beneath his eyes and a pallor to his skin made him look less than healthy.

Maybe it was just that it was early. Teens didn’t do well with early.

She opened her arms and pulled him into a hug. “It’s good to see you, Jacob.”

He didn’t hug her back, but he submitted to her affection, probably the best you could expect from a fifteen-year-old boy.

They all turned and walked toward the parking lot. Each of the boys carried a small duffel bag, and they wore khakis and heavy wool jackets, identical. Must have been some kind of civilian uniform from the military academy.

“So you two know each other?” Reese asked, clearly trying to make conversation.

“Yeah. Some. He’s a year ahead of me.” Connor looked more than a year younger than Jacob, but then, kids developed at such different rates.

As Gabby walked along, half beside and half behind her silent brother, the reality of what the next few weeks would be like started to settle in.

Nana was sick. She was insistent that she could take care of Izzy, but even if that turned out to be the case, she wouldn’t have much energy left to entertain Jacob. Gabby herself would be busy working full-time. And anyway, a fifteen-year-old boy didn’t want to hang out with his grandmother and his older half sister whom he barely knew.

The wireless connection in Nana’s house was spotty at best, so the internet as entertainment couldn’t be counted on.

Watching Reese talk easily with the other boy, Gabby got a brainstorm, the obvious solution. “Go ahead and get in the car,” she said to Jacob, tossing him the keys. “I’m going to talk to Reese for a minute.”

She caught Reese’s eye and beckoned him over. “What’s the age range for boys in your kids’ program?” she asked.

“We don’t have an official limit, but I think our youngest is eleven and our oldest, let’s see, he’s fifteen.” He clicked open his car for Connor. “Why do you ask?”

“How do kids get into the program? Could Jacob participate?”

“There’s paperwork to be done,” he said, frowning. “It’s based on financial need.”

“Pretty sure he has that. He’s on scholarship at school, I know.”

Reese’s brow wrinkled, and he started to shake his head. He was going to say no.

“Please, Reese? It’s just for the Christmas break.” She lowered her voice. “He’ll go nuts with boredom at Nana’s, and that wouldn’t be good for a kid with his history.”

Reese looked thoughtfully toward Gabby’s car, where Jacob was fiddling with the radio. His face softened. “I know what that’s like. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” She shot Reese a grateful smile and then hurried over to the passenger side of her car and opened the door. “Jacob, come out and talk to Reese a minute. He’s involved with a program that might be really good for you over this break.”

Jacob didn’t look particularly thrilled, but he dutifully came out of the car, walked around to where Reese was standing, wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out to shake.

Gabby did the introductions. “Reese Markowski, I’d like to present Jacob Hanks, my brother.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Reese said.

But Jacob’s lip curled and he pulled back his hand. “Markowski? As in, the Markowskis who live on Elder Lane?”

Reese nodded. “That’s my aunt and uncle. Do you know them?”

“Oh, I know them,” Jacob said. “I know them well enough to know that I don’t want anything to do with them, or any program they’re connected with.”

“Jacob! Be polite!” Gabby knew the Markowskis could be hard to deal with, but she didn’t want Jacob to ruin his chances to do something constructive with his break. “I didn’t know you’d ever spent enough time here to meet Reese’s aunt and uncle.”

“Last summer,” he growled, and then Gabby remembered. She’d been so overwhelmed over on the other side of the state, what with working and caring for Izzy, that she’d barely registered the fact that Jacob had visited Nana last summer. Now that she thought about it, Nana had told her the visit was going on a bit longer than scheduled.

Reese’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to go into it.” Jacob dug his hands deeper into his pockets and stared at the ground.

Reese watched him, and compassion crossed his face. “My aunt and uncle can be difficult,” he said. “If it makes you feel any better, I was the outcast kid in that family. The poor cousin who came to live with them after my parents died. So I’m not exactly one of them.”

Jacob’s eyes flashed toward Reese’s face for a second of raw connection. Gabby guessed he hadn’t met many people who had lost their parents young. She knew herself that it made her feel different from others her age. How much more that must be the case for a teenager.

Reese had always seemed a little sad, a little haunted. It had given him strength and understanding beyond the other high school boys; that had been a part of his appeal. She could see that he still had that going for him, just from the kind way he spoke to her half brother.

“It would be something for you to do over the break,” Gabby said. “Why don’t you give it a chance?”

“I’d like to have you join us,” Reese said. “I could use another older boy. Role models for the younger ones.”

“Are you kidding me? You think I might be a role model?” Jacob rolled his eyes at Gabby. “Talk to your aunt and uncle, is all I can say.”

“I will. But a lot of the kids in the program have issues. The past is the past.”

Gratitude washed over Gabby. Reese was really trying to make this work, just on the strength of her and Jacob’s and Nana’s needs.

“I don’t want to do it.” Jacob shrugged and blew out a breath, making his long bangs puff up, and suddenly, despite the beard stubble, he looked like a little kid. “All I want to do is take a nap. Do we have to decide about this right now?”

Reese chuckled. “That’s about the smartest thing anyone has said all day,” he said. “Gabby, I’ll see you Monday morning. You can bring Jacob if he decides he wants to come, as long as his official guardian agrees. We can do the paperwork then.”

“Thanks,” Gabby said faintly. She couldn’t believe that Reese had so readily agreed to take in the teenager. But she shouldn’t have been surprised. That was who he was.

The problem was, seeing him be a compassionate man was making her fall for him again, even harder than she had when she was in high school. And because of what had happened, he was the last man she should get involved with.

Two days later, right after Sunday services, Reese wiped his brow in the overly heated meeting room just off the fellowship hall. The presentation to the church board and a small audience from the congregation wasn’t going especially well, but it wasn’t going badly.

Reese felt like he had some impressive charts and statistics, but members of the board kept looking out the window at the flurries that had started to fall. A lot of them were nervous drivers and didn’t like to drive in any kind of bad weather, even in broad daylight.

Ideally, they’d agree to fund his program for the next year and hurry home to Sunday dinner. He answered a couple of questions and then looked to the chairperson, hoping to get a quick vote.

And then Santiago Romano stood, leaning on his cane, dark eyes challenging. “When you proposed this program, I didn’t think it would be for that kind of kids,” Mr. Romano said. “I was picturing more of a friendly day camp for kids whose parents have to work while they’re on school break.”

“That’s what it is.” Reese tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, because he knew exactly what Mr. Romano meant. But he wasn’t going to say it himself. If the man wanted to show his snobbery, the words needed to come out of his own mouth. “The kids in the program, for the most part, have parents who are working, some of them two jobs. The Rescue Haven program has been giving them something constructive to do after school since September, and now, that support is continuing through the Christmas vacation.”

“But these are kids in trouble,” Mr. Romano said stubbornly. “Kids who may get into more trouble when they’re all together in a gang, at loose ends all day.”

“The point is, they won’t be at loose ends if you continue to fund the program,” Reese said. “They’re working with dogs other people have abandoned, helping to train and rehabilitate them. And doing sports, and games, and having meals together.” Reese hesitated, not wanting to call the older man out, but he needed to speak up for his boys. “Rather than calling them kids in trouble, I prefer to call them kids at risk.”

“Are we a church who won’t take risks?” Nana’s best friend, Bernadette Williams, was the oldest member of the board, though only by a year or two. “Risks are how great things get accomplished. I like what Reese is doing. These young people need something to bring out the best in them. Reese knows about that, and he’ll do a good job with it.”

“Hear, hear,” came a voice from the small audience. It sounded like Nana, but Reese couldn’t see her.

If Nana was here, did that mean Gabby was, as well?

Reese scanned the room. Board members sat at a large conference table, and interested members of the congregation occupied several rows of chairs at the back of the room.

He hoped some of the other board members would speak up in support, but they were silent.

Reese knew why. They respected Bernadette’s opinions, but Mr. Romano’s money funded so many of the church’s outreaches that everyone was hesitant to offend him.

Time to bring out the big guns. “I have here a copy of the church’s mission,” Reese said, pulling it up on his smartphone. “To spread the gospel of Jesus, through actions as much as through words, with a special mission for the poor.” He looked up and focused on Bernadette’s smiling face. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I’d like to respectfully request continuation of funding for the next calendar year.”

Mr. Romano must have heard the murmurs of approval throughout the room, because he switched tactics. “I wasn’t expecting the program to be right next door to me,” he said. “You have those kids on the edge of town, close to some of our bigger homes, where stealing is a big temptation. Don’t they pose a danger to the community?”

“They’re well supervised, and we haven’t had any problems with the after-school program.” Thus far, the kids had limited their bad behavior to arguing with each other. Well, and nearly coming to blows, but there was no need to mention that. “As for the property, I did a lot of due diligence,” Reese went on. “I leased the best property I could find, for the best price. I want to be a good steward of the donors’ resources.”

“Yeah, well, that property has always been an eyesore.” Mr. Romano’s grumble was quiet, but Reese heard it and winced inwardly. He hated to see the old man reduced to insults.

“Permission to speak?” The clear voice from the audience belonged to Nana. So she was here. There was some shifting around as Gabby helped her to stand and walk out to a small podium set up in the aisle between the rows of chairs.

Reese’s heart gave a great thump. He hadn’t seen Gabby at church, and now the sight of her in a green sweater, denim skirt and high boots went directly to his heart.

Reese’s neck heated. He wanted to impress her—still, which was ridiculous—and he wasn’t looking exactly stellar right now.

Not that that mattered. Not at all. He wasn’t trying to build a relationship with Gabby; it would never work, and besides that, he wasn’t even interested. She’d dumped him before and she’d do it again.

“I believe there’s something in the Bible that talks about not building up mansions on earth,” Nana said. “If I don’t want to spend money making my house a showpiece, I have my reasons for it. I donate to the church’s outreach programs. And while I can’t donate as much cash as some—” she eyed Santiago Romano “—I do what I can. Including giving this program an excellent deal on rental of the barn and fields.”

“There’s no Bible verse about not building mansions, Estelle,” Mr. Romano said, a smile in his voice.

“I can quote it.” Nana glared at him. “‘Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal.’ Matthew six, verses nineteen and twenty.”

“There’s more to that passage,” Mr. Romano sputtered.

“Yes, there is.” Nana was still standing, and now she pointed a bony finger at Mr. Romano. “It has to do with laying up treasures in heaven, which is what this young man—” she nodded at Reese “—is trying to do.”

Mr. Romano still looked ready to argue. He opened his mouth.

“And what’s more,” Nana said, cutting him off, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. That’s in the book of Matthew, sir, said by our Lord Himself. Even you can’t argue with Jesus.”

Reese could barely stifle a laugh at how thoroughly Nana had shut down Mr. Romano.

Gabby put an arm around Nana and encouraged her back into her seat as murmurs went through the crowd. Some were amused, because the feud between Mr. Romano and Nana went back years. Some sounded more disapproving; a board member behind Reese was speaking, and Reese overheard the words inappropriate and not the right place.

Bernadette cleared her throat and stood, and the room quieted down. “I do have a concern, Reese,” she said. “Do you have enough help to run this Christmas-break program, given that your main assistant had to leave unexpectedly?”

“I’m in the process of hiring a new assistant,” Reese said.

“Tammy?” Bernadette’s voice held the faintest tinge of skepticism. Around the room, people were looking at one another, and Reese knew why. Tammy’s heart was in the right place, but she didn’t have a reputation for being focused and responsible.

“No,” Reese said before the murmurs could rise louder. “The candidate I’m working with has most of a degree in education and a lot of good ideas.”

“May I ask who it is? Someone from Bethlehem Springs?” Bernadette was still standing.

While Reese was glad she had taken charge of the discussion, getting Mr. Romano off center stage, he knew how insistent Bernadette could be when it was a question of doing the right thing. “It’s Gabby Hanks,” he said.

A murmur rose in the room. Reese looked around, wondering what it was about.

But Bernadette gave a nod, put her hands on her hips and looked around the room until the murmuring stopped. “I suggest we see what Reese can do. If he manages the children well through this break, then we’ll know the program can be expanded, and we’ll have a better basis to fund it through the next year.”

“But how will we know if he manages it well?” the board’s accountant, Mike Watson, asked. “What criteria are we using? How will we assess the outcomes?”