The Secret Christmas Child

Bernadette opened her mouth to speak, but there was another flurry back in Nana’s part of the room, and then Gabby stood. Her cheeks were pink, her mouth determined. “How about if we have the kids and animals do some kind of a performance for the church? A Christmas performance?”

“What’s your vision, Gabby?” Bernadette asked. “How would that help us assess the results?”

Reese didn’t know how he’d lost control of this discussion, but he needed to take it back. He opened his mouth to speak.

Gabby gave him a look, and because of their history together, he read it instantly. I’ve got this, relax, she seemed to say with her eyes. “If the boys are able to work together toward a productive goal that entertains the community, that’ll show that they can work toward other productive goals,” she said. “And by attending and supporting the performance, the church members can show that they understand our mission.” She looked pointedly at Santiago Romano as she said it.

Reese hid a small smile. Despite the fact that this was likely to be a disaster, he admired Gabby’s spunk.

Gabby glanced at Reese, then went on. “The Sunday before Christmas, or the early Christmas Eve service, might be good times to give the pastor and choirs a break. But we could do it on a weeknight instead. Whatever would help out the church.”

Mr. Romano started to laugh. “Boy, if you can pull that off with those kids, you’ll be doing something very surprising.”

“Christmas is the season of wonderful surprises,” Gabby said gently.

“That it is,” Bernadette said. “If we can all agree to this proposal, we can get on the road and home to our families. I’d suggest Tuesday evening, the twenty-third, which gives you just over a week. All in favor?”

Thank you, Bernadette. Everyone wanted to get home. There was a chorus of ayes, and just a couple of nays, one belonging to Mr. Romano. No surprise there.

As people hurried to gather their coats and hats, Reese blew out a breath. Thanks to Gabby, he now had a clear-cut goal. With a breathtakingly short time line.

He had to make this program a success. With his disability, he couldn’t do what he’d always planned to do, carpentry. And he seriously doubted that he could form a family; even before he’d become disabled, he’d never been especially smooth with women. The one woman he’d fallen in love with—Gabby—had dumped him.

If he could make a go of this program, he could have a different kind of a family, and meaning in his life.

Few people gathered around the coffeepot afterward, but Gabby was among them, and he tapped her on the shoulder and gestured her off to the side. “You’ve set us up to do something difficult,” he said.

“I’m sorry. It just came to me.”

She looked so penitent that he felt bad. “I’m not upset about it. It’s a good idea,” he said, and when her face brightened, his heart lifted, too. He needed to get himself under control. They were working together and that was it. “It’s definitely going to be a challenge, and we need to get started right away. Can you meet me this afternoon so we can start to figure out how we’re going to make it work?”

She glanced at Nana, still seated. “I think I can,” she said.

That made Reese realize that he hadn’t seen young Jacob at the church service. He wondered how things were going in the household.

Still, it was Gabby who had brought up this possibility, and Reese knew next to nothing about putting on a show. “I really need you to step up and help with it,” he said.

She nodded. “I’ll do my best,” she said, her voice subdued.

So now, rather than his usual quiet Sunday afternoon avoiding his aunt and uncle’s family gathering, Reese was going to be working with the very pretty lady who’d already broken his heart once.

He just had to make sure he didn’t let her do it again.

Chapter Three

“I’m so glad Cleo’s Crafts and Café is still here.” Gabby sipped peppermint hot chocolate and looked around the cozy place. Steam blurred the windows, making the café its own little world. There were only about ten tables. Up front, a pastry case held Cleo’s famous concoctions, heavily leaning toward Christmas items at this time of year: chocolate pinwheel cookies and gingerbread boys and chocolate-pecan chess pie.

Reese looked around, too. “You haven’t been gone that long, have you?” He sipped his own flavored coffee. “I’m surprised you’re surprised.”

“It seems like forever ago.” Then she flushed, because she wasn’t referring to the last time she’d been home; she was referring to their high school years, when they’d been falling in love.

“It’s different because we’re different,” he said. Maybe he didn’t know it, but his hand went to his arm. Today, he was wearing a prosthetic, obvious because of the pincerlike hook in place of his right hand.

Curiosity won out over decorum. “Why do you wear a prosthetic some days and not others?”

“Getting used to it. It’s a process.” He leveled a steady gaze at her. “You seem different from when we were kids, too.”

I’m different because I’m a mom. “We should figure out the show,” she said briskly, trying to get back to business. And avoid telling him about Izzy. Which shouldn’t be a big deal, but she hated the thought of his questions. Despite all her counseling, she still felt a heated rush of shame at the idea of talking about it. “I feel bad to have volunteered you for something you don’t want to do, but I think it’ll be great.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Tell me what you were thinking. I don’t exactly have a vision.”

She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Tell me about your boys. Ages, abilities, things like that.”

He nodded, sipping coffee. “Like I mentioned to Jacob, they’re eleven to fifteen. But skewed toward the younger side. I think we have...three each of eleven-and twelve-year-olds. Two thirteen-year-olds, and one each of fourteen and fifteen. Two fifteen-year-olds if Jacob joins.”

She nodded, making notes. “And how do the dogs fit in?” She’d seen them when she’d been in the barn before: the one Doberman that seemed to roam around, a row of kennels in the back of the barn and an open yard area separate from where the boys gathered in the front.

“In a way, the dogs are similar to the boys,” he said wryly. “Most have behavior problems and that’s why they were surrendered.”

“All breeds?”

He nodded. “But I try to make it so there’s one dog per boy. Their job is to train that one dog.”

She put down her pen. “Uh-oh. Will Jacob mess that up? Can he get a dog this late in the game?”

“There are always dogs that need help,” he said. “See, the overall vision is...” He trailed off, looking just a little shy.

“Tell me.” She set her cup down and leaned forward a little. Reese had always been a dreamer, the rare kind who could put his dreams into action. When she’d been falling in love with him in high school, his dreams had been of beautiful cabinets and chairs and tables he could make. He’d looked at a piece of wood, even scrap wood, and seen all its possibilities.

“Well. I got into training dogs, a little, in rehab.” He made a disparaging gesture toward his prosthetic. “They had therapy dogs, and I kind of bonded with one of them who was about to flunk out. Got him over his fear of prosthetics, actually. Showed a talent, so they gave me a couple other troubled dogs to train.”

“That’s cool, but how’d you learn to do it? I mean, your aunt and uncle had Fifi, but...”

He rolled his eyes. “Fifi. May she rest in peace after eighteen years of giving everyone nothing but trouble.”

“She wasn’t exactly trained, it’s true.” Gabby chuckled. “She did have a lot of cute outfits, though.”

“Don’t remind me. But you know...” He trailed off, looking thoughtful. “I’d guess that, now, with what I’ve learned, I could actually train Fifi.”

She was fascinated, because he’d taken on the same dreamy-yet-passionate look he’d had when she’d known him years ago. “How did you learn what you know?”

“Online videos. Books. After I got better, they let me take a couple of dogs through agility training.”

“All this was through the VA?”

He nodded. “Because while I thought I was rehabilitating dogs, I was actually getting rehabilitated myself.” He sipped coffee. “So when I came home, and there was no possibility of carpentry, there was a need for someone to take over a grant-funded after-school program for at-risk boys. I added the element of dog training, and...Rescue Haven was born.”

“I have a feeling there was more to it.” But she admired his sense of industry, going directly into another line of work. “Reese, can I ask...why’d you come back to Bethlehem Springs?”

He looked out the window. The street was busy with people: couples strolling, families with kids, Christmas shoppers overloaded with bags. “My aunt and uncle needed me.”

“But they always—” She broke off. “I’m impressed that you did that for them, is all.”

“Because they favored Brock? Didn’t really want to take me in? I know,” he said. “But when he passed, they were devastated. Aunt Catherine, especially. My uncle came to visit me at the VA hospital and asked me to come back for at least a year, just to try to pull her out of her slump.”

She stared at him, remembering the cold, snobbish woman who’d rarely had a kind word for anyone. “You did that for her.”

He shrugged. “Uncle Clive pulled strings to get me funding for the dog aspect of the Rescue Haven program,” he explained. “I figured, if I couldn’t do what I wanted to do, at least I could do some good.” He drained his coffee. “Come on. Let’s walk and talk.”

She remembered that about him, then, that he always preferred to be moving. It was why he’d wanted to work with his hands rather than in an office; it was part of the reason he’d gone into the military.

They carried their cups to the counter and then headed outside.

The sun peeked through clouds, and there was a dusting of snow on the ground. The cold air made Gabby wrap her scarf around her neck and put up her furry hood. Reese, just like he used to, went bareheaded.

The temptation to reach for his hand was strong. They’d flowed so easily back into talking, just like old times. Sharing dreams.

He looked down at her as they walked, and she got the strangest feeling that he was fighting the same impulse. They’d strolled down these streets together so many times.

But he looked away and straightened. “Anyway,” he said, his voice going businesslike, “we should figure out this show, because we’re going to need to start practicing and getting organized right away.”

“True.” She frowned, thinking. “It’s got to be a kids and dogs show, somehow. Ooh, let’s go into Mistletoe from Mindy,” she said as they turned a corner. “It’s sure to give us some ideas.”

“You think?” he asked, sounding skeptical. But he held the door for her while they walked into the Christmas-themed shop. The scents of pine and gingerbread filled the air, and every possible display spot held ornaments, garlands and Christmas dishes.

Gabby spun slowly, looking at everything. “We should bring the boys here. It’ll help them get creative.”

Reese groaned. “The thought of all those big, clumsy boys in here... No. Just no.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“It’s in a church,” he said. “Shouldn’t it be, like, a nativity pageant or something?”

“Dressing the dogs up like stable animals?” She frowned. “That would be cute, but would the boys go for it?”

“Doubtful,” he said.

She’d learned in her education classes that kids needed a sense of control. “In fact, we probably should let them do the planning, make up the show.”

He stared at her. “Do you know how...inappropriate a bunch of boys can be?”

“Oh, I’m sure they can.” She fingered a Santa ornament. “But if we explain to them that it’s for a church, and that it will help keep the program going, they may step up.”

He looked skeptical as they meandered through the shop.

“The alternative is having them sneer through a kid-like program they hate.” She was thinking of Jacob now.

“You have a good point,” he admitted. “At the same time, this is really important to me. The show is like a test. Do we really want to leave it in the hands of a small group of troubled boys?”

She bit her lip. “It’s scary. But if we explain how high the stakes are...”

“Let me think about it,” he said as they reached the door again and headed out of the shop. “That’s going to take an awful lot of trust.”

“In the boys?”

“In God,” he said.

She tilted her head, looking at him. That wasn’t something the younger Reese would have said.

“How about we ask Jacob his opinion? That’ll give us a test run of what the boys might think of, and also draw him into the program.” He met her eyes, his own crinkling in the now bright sunlight.

She drew in a sharp breath. Reese was so handsome. Tall, muscular and athletic, with those rare blue eyes that stood out against his dark complexion and hair.

Add a sincere faith and compassion into the mix, and he was almost irresistible.

Except she had to resist him. Because he was inevitably going to find out about Izzy, and she knew intuitively how much that would upset him. They’d both valued saving intimacy for marriage.

That choice had been taken away from Gabby.

Reese could never, ever find out about the circumstances of Izzy’s conception. That would devastate him and his whole family. And even though she knew better intellectually, it would cause her shame.

So she needed to flip the switch on this attraction to Reese. Unfortunately, she had the feeling it wasn’t going to be easy to do.

That night, Reese looked down at the big, drooling dog beside him and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if this’ll work, Biff. You’ll have to be on good behavior.”

The dog ignored him, lifting his leg in the light of the streetlamp in front of Nana’s house.

So much for making a good impression. He urged the dog up the porch steps, brushed a hand over his hair and reached down to adjust Biff’s floppy ear before ringing Nana’s doorbell.

Jacob opened the door, which Reese figured was a good sign. At least the teen wasn’t sulking in his room.

In fact, when he looked past Jacob, he saw a puzzle on a card table in the middle of the living room. Gabby and Nana were sitting at the table, and a soda by a third chair suggested that Jacob had been working on the puzzle, too. A Christmas movie was on the old-fashioned TV in the corner. Evergreen garlands looped up the stair railing, and a small, lopsided tree stood in the corner, half-decorated.

The house was shabby, but Reese had always appreciated how homey it was.

“I was hoping I could come in and talk to you for a few minutes,” he said to Jacob. “Problem is, I have someone with me. Would your grandmother mind if I brought in a dog?”

Jacob looked down, and his eyes widened. “Come on in,” he said, and pulled the door wide open.

“Sit,” Reese commanded, keeping the dog in the entryway.

Biff cocked his enormous head as if he was trying to understand.

Reese gave up and looked past Jacob to Nana. “Biff is big, but gentle,” he said. “I was hoping to talk to Jacob for a few minutes about him, but I know not everyone likes dogs in the house. Should I take him back outside?”

“Come in, come in,” she said in her raspy voice. “We’d love to have a visit. Gabby, could you take his coat and get him something to drink?”

“Um, sure.” There was a pause, and then Gabby stood. She seemed to swallow before walking across the room and then holding out a hand for his coat. Her smile looked forced, and it seemed as if she was dragging her feet with every step. She didn’t even seem to notice the dog.

Reese must have misread her signals this afternoon. He had gotten the feeling that maybe Gabby still had some of the old feelings. But now she looked like she’d rather see anyone else than him.

Focus on the boy and dog, he counseled himself.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Her words were wooden.

“No. I won’t be staying long.” Since you’re obviously not happy to see me. “I just wanted to get a little input from Jacob before we talk to the rest of the boys about the show tomorrow. And introduce him to Biff.”

Jacob was standing a few feet away from the dog, staring at him. “Why do you want to introduce me to this dog?”

“Because I’m hoping you’ll take him on as your project,” he said, “if you decide to do our program. He’s a little much for the other boys to handle, but since you’re bigger and older than most of them, I think you’d be good at it. Up to you, though.”

Gabby gave him a quick glance, looking much more friendly. Thank you, she mouthed to him.

Warmth suffused his chest. He was glad he’d come.

“I don’t know much about dogs,” Jacob said, “but I’d like to learn.”

Now Gabby and Nana stared at each other, eyebrows raised in identical expressions. Reese was guessing that Jacob’s attitude hadn’t been consistently upbeat and eager to learn thus far.

“Terrific.” Reese kept his voice casual. You didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm around teenagers or they’d balk. “Maybe you could get to know him a little. And would you mind talking to Gabby and me about this show we’re being asked to put on?”

“Sure.”

They walked into the front room, and Gabby turned down the sound on the television. Quickly, Reese explained about the show and how important it was. “So we were thinking the boys could plan the show, but I’m wondering whether they’ll be up to it. Wanted to get a teenager’s perspective.”

“We watch videos all the time,” Jacob said with a shrug. “Probably could make a show like some of those.”

“Those music videos are full of bad language,” Nana said. “Why, I’ve learned words I never heard in my life, volunteering down at the mission for families.”

“The show’s going to be in a church. There can’t be any bad language.” Gabby looked at Jacob. “Do you think the boys will be able to do that?”

“How would I know?” Jacob stuffed his hands into his pockets, still staring at the dog. “I don’t even know these kids.”

Reese accepted Jacob’s mood shift with equanimity. He’d learned a ton about kids in a few short months, and that went with the territory. “What would make a project like that fun for you?”

“Being able to do whatever we wanted,” Jacob said. “And music.”

“Like Christmas carols?” Gabby asked.

“No way!” Jacob said. “But...”

“Yeah?” Reese dangled a treat in front of Biff’s nose, trying to get him to lie down. It didn’t work.

“There is some good Christmas music that’s popular,” Jacob said reluctantly. “Maybe the guys would go for that.”

“Maybe you could help talk them into it.” Reese kept his eyes on the dog, not wanting to pressure Jacob too much. “You’re older and from out of town. They might listen to you.”

“That’s if I do the program.”

“Right.” Reese stood to leave. “I sure hope you do, for Biff’s sake, if nothing else.” He pounded the dog’s side. “He doesn’t seem to be learning anything I try to teach him.”

Jacob reached out a hand and touched Biff’s head, and his face morphed into a smile as he ran a hand over the dog’s soft ears.

A sound came from one of the bedrooms at the back of the house. It sounded almost like... Yes, that was a baby’s cry, now rising to a higher volume.

Huh? Reese looked at the three people gathered. “You have a baby here?”

Nana smiled. “My great-granddaughter,” she said proudly.

“Who never shuts up,” Jacob added, rolling his eyes.

Gabby looked sick.

Reese tried to puzzle this out. Nana’s great-granddaughter must be... He stared at Gabby.

“I was hoping she was down for the night,” Nana said. “Guess that’s too much to ask for from a nine-month-old baby.”

Reese’s head was spinning. “Whose baby?” he asked as he did the math in his mind.

The baby’s cries got louder.

“Better go get her,” Nana said to Gabby, who’d been standing as if paralyzed, looking toward the back of the house.

Without a glance at Reese, Gabby left the room.

Nana watched after her proudly. “She’s such a good mom. Hasn’t had an easy time of it, but she does a fine job.”

He knelt to pet the dog, counting the months again, hoping he was wrong.

He wasn’t. Anger surged inside him.

Gabby’s baby must have been conceived the summer he’d left for the Middle East. Early in the summer, if she was nine months old now.

But they’d been together early in the summer. He’d left at the end of June.

That meant her baby had been conceived while they were dating. And he knew 100 percent that he wasn’t the father. He’d respected her boundaries, shared them. They’d never gone beyond a kiss.

Apparently, she hadn’t kept the same boundaries with someone else...even while she was promising Reese that she cared and would wait for him.

Chapter Four

Gabby had hoped that Reese would have settled down by Monday morning, but as soon as she pushed open the barn door and saw his face—narrow eyes, clenched jaw—she knew it hadn’t happened.

Most of the boys had already arrived, and she checked the time on her phone. 9:00 a.m., but apparently she and Jacob should arrive earlier, quarter till at the latest.

She put her purse and the file folder of ideas she’d brought onto the shelf outside of Reese’s office, amid the sound of boys yelling and laughing, quiet country music playing and dogs barking. Bales of hay and heaps of straw sent their fragrance through the air.

It could have been kind of idyllic. But there was Jacob, already off in a corner and standing sullenly by himself. There were two of the boys clearly trying to impress the others by baiting one of the dogs, holding a toy in front of its nose and then jerking it away. And when she started toward them to put a stop to it, there was Reese, stepping in front of her, giving her a dismissive wave that clearly said he didn’t think she was competent to take care of the situation.

Meeting their deadline, putting a show together in a week, wasn’t going to be easy. Especially if Reese was hating on her.

Without consulting her or acting like she was a part of things, Reese called the boys together and explained the need for a show. He suggested that they look online for some Christmas pageant scripts, which didn’t exactly make the boys enthusiastic. She waited for him to mention the idea of letting the boys take some control and making up their own show, but he didn’t.

He was discounting her ideas and keeping her out of the authority loop, making her seem like just a helper. It wasn’t the way he’d described the job to her, but she needed to make money, and she needed for this job to work. It was best for Jacob, for Nana and for Izzy.

She should just hold back, let him run the program the way he wanted to run it, stay on the sidelines. But when a couple of boys started covertly punching each other while Reese was trying unsuccessfully to get Jacob to share his ideas, she couldn’t keep quiet.

Maybe letting the boys have a strong voice in planning their own show would be a disaster, but would it be any worse than what was happening right now? She raised her hand, and when Reese didn’t notice, she stood and waved her hand more visibly, at the same time stepping between the two boys who were fighting.

“Could I make a suggestion?” she asked. “And I’d need everyone to pay attention,” she added, looking sternly at the boys who’d been fighting.

Oh, how Reese wanted to say no: it was obvious, written in every tense line of his body. But to his credit, he didn’t display his lack of enthusiasm in front of the kids. “Go ahead,” he said.