Shenandoah Christmas

Harry stared at his wife, a suspicion forming in his brain. Was there more to this dinner than just friends getting together?

But Peg was immersed in her hostess role, not open to receiving unspoken messages. “Harry will take your coats. Anna, you sit yourself down on the sofa. I’ll bring some juice for you and the children. David, Caitlyn, will you have something? A glass of wine, perhaps?”

The younger woman smiled. “Wine, please.”

The minister took a seat next to his wife. “That would be great, Peggy.”

She looked at Ben. “You’ll be staying, of course. What can I get you?”

Taking Ben’s jacket as he shrugged it off, Harry heard him sigh. Then he said, “A glass of wine sounds good. Can I help?”

“No, no. Y’all just sit and talk. I’ll be right back.” Peg disappeared toward the kitchen. Harry shut the front door, then went to lay the coats on the bed in the guest room. When he returned to the living room, only Maddie was attempting conversation. Shep was busy landing his supersonic aircraft under the coffee table.

“My friend Brenna says you’re a big star.” The little girl bit into a cracker and chewed for a second, staring seriously at Caitlyn Gregory, then swallowed. “Do you like singing for people?”

“All I wanted to be—when I grew up—was a singer.” Cait sat in the armchair closest to the children, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. She wore a column of thin gold bracelets on each wrist, which drew attention to her pretty hands.

“Our dad used to say Cait sang before she could talk,” Anna told Maddie.

Harry, watching closely, saw the singer’s mouth tighten, then relax. “That might be true. I sang at church a lot, when I was young.”

“I like to sing,” Maddie confided, as a cracker crumbled through her fingers onto the carpet.

Caitlyn nodded, which set her long gold earrings to swaying. “And you have a very good voice. You help the other children learn the songs.”

“My daddy sings, too.”

“I’m sure he does.” Caitlyn lifted her chin, almost defiantly, and gazed at Ben. “I could tell when we talked that he would have a nice singing voice.”

“You’ve already met?” Peg returned with a tray of drinks. “I didn’t know that.” She looked a little put out.

Oh, Peg, Harry groaned silently. What are you trying to pull off this time?

“We ran into each other only this afternoon, as a matter of fact,” Ben drawled, his voice dry. “In the meat department at Food Depot. Over pot roast.”

HE COULD HAVE introduced himself. Cait took the glass of white wine Peggy offered and held the cool bowl between her palms. Her face felt hot, which probably meant she was blushing.

Why had Ben Tremaine pretended not to recognize her? She’d been teaching his children in choir for three weeks. Maybe he’d never heard a single one of her recordings, but she and Anna looked enough alike that he would have known right away whom he was talking to. This was a small town. So far, Cait hadn’t met a single person who didn’t already know who she was and why she was here.

But Ben Tremaine hadn’t even bothered to make her acquaintance through a simple exchange of names. If he’d been married, that would have been a reason, she supposed, for him to steer clear of a single woman who’d made it clear she found him attractive.

That was not quite the case, however. Anna had explained the situation during the drive to the Shepherds’ house tonight. Ben’s wife—Harry and Peggy’s daughter—had been killed in a car wreck. Shep had been in the car with her, and though his physical injuries were minor, he hadn’t spoken a word since. That accounted for why he was attentive, but completely silent, during choir practice. As for Maddie—losing her mother’s love and attention in such a tragic way had caused the little girl to hoard every bit of affection or praise she received.

And Ben must still be in deep mourning for his wife. Did that absolve him from simple friendliness?

Evidently. “Dinner’s ready,” Peggy Shepherd announced, waving through a wide doorway toward the table. Anna had mentioned that this house was one of the town’s oldest, dating back to the early 1800s; beautiful wainscoting and woodwork in the dining room and entry hall testified to the craftsmanship of long ago. “Caitlyn, you sit here on Harry’s left and Ben, you can…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes widened as Ben took the chair diagonally opposite Cait, as far away as he could manage. “That’s…that’s fine. David and Anna, would you like to sit next to Ben?”

That seated Shep beside Cait, then Maddie next to her grandmother. Harry handed over a platter heaped with carrots and potatoes…and pot roast. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Cait took a healthy portion of the succulent meat and vegetables, then hesitated. Should she serve Shep? Her area of expertise these days was music. What she knew about children she’d learned at choir practice, and that wasn’t much.

“Shep?” When she said his name, the little boy lifted his long-lashed brown gaze to her face. “Would you like some meat and vegetables?”

He looked away again, but nodded. Cait took a deep breath and forked over a piece of roast. “Potatoes?” Another nod. “Carrots?” The little boy shook his head.

“Have some carrots, son,” his dad instructed from across the table. Obviously, Ben Tremaine was keeping an eye on them.

Shep’s pout, as Cait ladled a few of the smaller slices onto his plate, conveyed quite clearly what he thought about carrots. She looked at that full lower lip, stuck way out, and had a strong urge to hug him. Such an adorable little boy.

His grandfather made the same impression. Harry Shepherd was handsome, young-looking, with brown hair that showed only a few strands of gray, and brown eyes like Shep’s that twinkled when he smiled. His wife was simply amazing. Peggy had orchestrated a dinner for eight people, yet looked completely relaxed. Her silver-white hair remained smoothly drawn into a ponytail, her pale blue sweater and slacks didn’t exhibit a single spot of food. So far, Cait couldn’t seem to cook for three without making a mess of herself and the kitchen, a fact Anna’s husband pointed out as often as possible.

But then, her sister’s attraction to this particular man had always been a puzzle to Cait. Thin and balding, though he wasn’t yet thirty-five, David Remington lacked the easy social skills Cait remembered in her father and the other ministers she’d met as a child. David’s eyes were round, as if constantly surprised. He always seemed to be in a hurry, always anxious, always thinking ahead.

Like now. “Are you tired?” he asked Anna, before she’d even sampled her food. “Should we be getting home?”

Anna gave him her sweet smile and shook her head. “I’m fine. I took an extra-long nap after Peggy called to invite us this afternoon, so I could feel good tonight.”

“How many weeks do you have left?” Peggy brought a second basket of biscuits to the table.

“Eleven, if everything goes perfectly.” Anna put down her fork and sighed. “The due date should be January 10. But the doctor doesn’t think I’ll get that far. He’s hoping for the middle of December. The longer, the better, as far as the baby’s concerned.”

The older woman looked at Cait. “Will you be able to stay until then?”

Cait noticed Ben glance up from his plate at Peggy’s question, though his gaze came nowhere near hers. “That’s what I’m planning. After Christmas, my schedule gets hectic, but for now, I’m here to help Anna…and David,” she added belatedly, “any way I can.”

“Oh, boy!” Maddie clapped her hands. “That means you’ll be here for the holidays. Won’t that be cool, Daddy? Miss Cait is going to help us with the Christmas pageant!”

With a roaring in her ears, Cait stared at the little girl.

Christmas pageant? I don’t do Christmas.

Not for the last ten years. Not this year…

Not ever again!

CHAPTER TWO

OH, DEAR. Anna saw resistance dawn on her sister’s face at the mention of Christmas. She’d planned to present the idea gradually, easing Cait into the role of directing the annual holiday program. When the doctor had ordered Anna to stay home and take things easy, she’d known she would have to find someone to take over her responsibility for the pageant. Cait had seemed like the perfect answer—for both their sakes.

But not if she got stubborn. “I hadn’t mentioned that to you,” she said, catching Cait’s eye across the table. “We usually start preparing around the beginning of November.”

“It’s lots of fun,” Maddie said. “We have angels and shepherds and wise men and a procession on Christmas Eve.”

Cait made a visible effort to relax. “We used to have a Christmas pageant when I was growing up. I remember how exciting it was. But—”

“The pageant has been a Goodwill tradition since I was a girl,” Peggy said. “Most of the children in town participate. When I was ten, I got to be the announcing angel.” She smiled at her granddaughter.

Maddie nodded. “That’s what I want to be. I already started learning the part. ‘Fear not…’”

Cait pressed her lips together and lifted her chin, a sure sign she was on the defensive. Anna sat up straighter, trying to think of a distraction. This was not going well at all.

“First, we have to get through Halloween.” Ben Tremaine’s calm voice came as an answer to prayer. “Have you decided on your costume yet, Maddie?”

The little girl nodded. “If we got a angel outfit, then I’d be all set for the Christmas pageant. That’s a good idea, isn’t it?”

There was a second of silence, during which Anna imagined all the adults—herself included—grappling for a way to deal with that question. The very existence of the pageant was in doubt this year. And there would be other children wanting the angel’s role. If she counted too much on getting the part, Maddie might be severely disappointed.

“My favorite Halloween costume of all time was the year I dressed as Zorro,” Cait said.

“You had Zorro when you were growing up?” Maddie’s eyes widened. “I love that movie.”

Cait grinned. “Zorro’s been around a long, long time.”

“But can a girl be Zorro?”

“Why not? Black cape, mask, sword…poof! It’s Zorro.”

“Yeah.” The little girl was obviously taken with the idea. Anna chuckled. Leave it to Cait to come up with the solution nobody else could see.

“And I’ll tell you a secret.” Cait leaned over Shep, pretending to whisper to Maddie. “I taped a crayon to the end of my sword, so I could slash real Z’s everywhere I went. It was incredibly cool.” She imitated the motion with a few flicks of her wrist.

“Wow…”

“And what should we think up for Shep?” Cait’s hand rested lightly on his blond head for a second.

“He likes that guy in X-Men.” Maddie served as her brother’s voice most of the time. “The one who’s sorta like a wolf.”

“Wolverine? I met him at a party once. He’s really cool.” Cait looked down into Shep’s upturned face. “That would be an excellent costume.”

Shep nodded decisively, as if the issue were settled.

“Amazing,” Ben commented, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, “how an outside perspective can simplify the most complicated problem.” His emphasis on outside was slight, but noticeable, nonetheless.

Another silence fell. “Dessert?” Peggy said at last, a little too brightly.

As the rest of them tried to restore some semblance of civility over brownies and ice cream, Cait stayed quiet, her smile stiff, her cheeks flushed with temper and, Anna knew, hurt pride. Tonight was her first real social venture since she’d arrived in town, and persuading her to come hadn’t been easy. In her frequent phone calls and e-mails, she’d rarely mentioned friends, or even casual acquaintances. The guys in her band—all of them married—were the people Cait spent most of her time with. This visit to a stranger’s house for dinner was an effort on her part.

But then, she wasn’t the only one acting out of character. In the three years she and David had lived in Goodwill, Anna had never known Ben Tremaine to be anything but kind and caring. Even right after Valerie’s death, when he was nearly paralyzed by grief, he’d reached out to express his concern over Anna’s first miscarriage.

Judging by their interaction so far, though, he and Cait seemed to bring out the worst in each other.

And Anna had hoped for something very, very different between them.

She sighed, and David’s hand immediately covered hers. “I really think it’s time for us to go. You should be in bed.”

“I’m fine.”

But David wasn’t listening. “Peggy, Harry, it’s been a great meal.” He was standing behind her, waiting to pull out her chair as she got to her feet. “But I do think Anna’s had enough excitement for one day. Will you forgive us if we don’t stay to help with the dishes?”

Peggy shook her head. “I wouldn’t have that, even if you stayed all night. We’ve been delighted to share your company. And to meet Caitlyn.” She smiled. “Please feel free to drop by any time for a cup of coffee and a chat.”

“Thank you for everything. I’ve enjoyed meeting you.” Now Caitlyn had turned on her “professional” smile—a little too bright, rather unfocused. She turned to Maddie and Shep. “I’ll look forward to seeing you on Sunday at church and at choir next week.” Then she moved away from the table, without a word or a glance in Ben Tremaine’s direction.

“I’ll get your coats.” Harry led them to the front hall, with Peggy and the children following. Anna looked back to see Ben standing just inside the opening between the living and dining rooms.

He lifted his wineglass in a silent toast and gave her a warm smile. “Take care of yourself.”

She didn’t return the smile. “I don’t understand—”

David wrapped her coat around her from behind. “Here we go, sweetheart. Night, Ben.” And then her husband was easing her down the porch steps and into the car like an ancient statue that might break if he set it down too hard.

“We can’t be careful enough,” he said later, in their bedroom, when she told him how she felt.

“The doctor didn’t say—”

“The doctor said you should have as little stress as possible.” He came out of the bathroom wearing a clean white T-shirt and soft flannel pajama bottoms. Brushing her hair, Anna watched her husband moving around the bedroom, getting ready for sleep. David wasn’t handsome, and he wasn’t a big man, or obviously muscular, but he had a lean strength that had always excited her. She loved the smell of the fresh cotton T-shirt combined with David’s own, unique scent. Just the thought was enough to raise her pulse rate.

“Having dinner with Harry and Peggy is not stressful.” Which wasn’t exactly true, considering the way Ben and Cait had behaved, but she wanted David to think so. If he thought she was feeling really well, maybe they could make love. The last time had been before her most recent doctor’s appointment, two weeks ago. Much too long.

She left her hair down around her shoulders, rather than braiding it for sleep, and instead of going to her side of the bed, she went to sit on the edge beside David. Putting her hand over his ribs, she rubbed gently. “Neither is being with you.” With her other hand braced on the pillow beside his head, she leaned close to brush her lips over his.

David’s reaction was everything she hoped for—a quickly drawn breath, an immediate claiming of her mouth with his own. His hands claimed her as well, and she felt the surge of his passion in the grip of his fingers on her shoulders. With a sigh of pleasure and surrender, Anna lowered herself more fully onto his chest.

But instead of drawing her even closer, instead of taking them deeper, David softened his mouth, shortened the kisses.

“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against her temple. “I love you.” Without her cooperation, he sat her up and away from him. “Come to bed.” He put his glasses on the table and pulled the blankets up to his chin.

As she turned off the lamp on the dresser and the light in the bathroom, Anna tried to believe that what she’d heard was an invitation. In the darkened room, though, she slipped into bed to find David on his side, facing away from her. Had he fallen asleep so quickly? Or did he just want her to think so?

She sat up to braid her hair, then eased under the covers again. David was tired, of course. All the responsibilities of running the church fell onto his shoulders, now that she couldn’t work. Typing, answering the phone and handling all the paperwork, plus his normal pastoral duties, kept him working late these days. With a sermon to preach on Sunday, he certainly needed to get a good rest on Friday night.

Still wide-awake, Anna sighed and turned her back on her husband…and on the memory of all the nights she’d fallen asleep in his strong, loving arms.

BEN LEFT the Shepherds’ house as soon as he could get away. Maddie and Shep enjoyed spending the night with their grandparents, so there wasn’t a problem with goodbyes. They knew he’d be back for them around lunchtime tomorrow.

At home again, he headed for the shop without even going into the house first, shivering a little in the frosty darkness. Ever since he was a boy, he’d found a kind of peace in his carpentry. The sweet smell of shaved wood, the physical effort of planing and sanding, the concentration on delicate cutting and carving—his work absorbed him, absolved him of the need to think.

Usually. Tonight, he couldn’t get Cait Gregory’s face out of his mind. Not because she was beautiful, but because she’d been hurt. By him. He’d gone out of his way to insult her, several times over. He might be forgiven for not introducing himself at the grocery store, but his comment to her at dinner had been totally out of line. That the remark had been his only means of defense didn’t matter. He shouldn’t need a defense.

But something about Cait Gregory set off all his alarms. There was an…aliveness…in her eyes that grabbed him and urged him near her. Adventure, challenge, emotion—somehow he knew he could find all of that and more with this redheaded woman.

Adventure had played a big part in his past—the Secret Service provided plenty of action, even on assignments that didn’t involve the White House. He’d cornered counterfeiters and tax evaders during those years, taken out a would-be assassin. Challenge had come his way with the births of his children, with the decision a year ago to build a new life and a new business based on the work of his hands.

And he’d experienced a lifetime’s share of emotion, though he was only thirty-seven years old. Valerie had been his partner, his lover, his best friend, since their second year in college together. They’d established their careers side by side—hers as a lobbyist for a consumer affairs agency, his with the government. They’d planned for their children, prepared for them, rejoiced in their presence. Their family had been a walking advertisement for the American dream.

In a matter of seconds, the dream became a nightmare, one Ben was still trying to escape. From the perfect life, he’d descended into a hell of pain and loss. Eighteen months later, he’d thought he’d climbed out of the pit, at least far enough to find a purpose in living, a willingness to keep trying. For a long time, he’d only functioned to take care of the kids. Nowadays, finally, he took care of himself, too.

But maintaining this equilibrium demanded all his strength. He had nothing left to give to a new relationship. Especially one with a woman like Cait Gregory. A man could lose his soul in her shining green eyes. Ben knew he needed to hold on to what soul he had left.

Still, he shouldn’t flay other people because of his own inadequacies. Cait Gregory didn’t deserve the way he’d treated her. And the injustice bothered him.

So he put down the sandpaper and chair leg he’d been smoothing, dusted his hands and picked up the phone. Dave Remington’s number was on his autodial list—had been since he’d arrived in town after Valerie’s accident. Taking a deep breath, Ben punched the button.

“Hello?” Not Dave’s Virginia accent, or Anna’s clear tone, but a siren’s voice. “Hello?”

He straddled a chair and braced his head on his hand. “Cait? This is Ben Tremaine.”

Immediate frost. “David and Anna have gone to bed. But if it’s an emergency—”

“No. No, I called to…talk to you.”

“Really?” As brittle as breaking icicles. “Was there some aspersion you forgot to cast?”

Strangely, he almost laughed. “I want to apologize. I acted like a jerk, in the grocery and at dinner. No excuses. But I am sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Oh.” Cait sat speechless as she held the phone to her ear, trying to think of the right response. Part of her wanted to punish him, to keep Ben Tremaine groveling for a long time. Part of her wanted to spare him any further embarrassment.

And part of her just wanted to keep him talking. “That’s…that’s okay. No harm done. I’ve had my share of tough reviews over the years. I’ll recover.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I imagine there are legions of fans out there who’d be after me if I slighted their legend.” His voice held a smile.

Cait found herself smiling in response. “Probably not legions. Or a legend. Janis Joplin is a legend. I’m just a singer.”

“I bet you do a good version of ‘Bobby McGee,’ though.”

“I’ve never covered that song.”

“Why not? Your voice would be perfect.”

Her chest went hollow at the idea that he’d noticed her voice. “Um…I don’t know.” Almost without her intent, the melody came to mind, and then the words about being free and being alone. The music possessed her, as a good song always did, and she sang it through, experimenting with intervals and timing. At the end, she was still hearing the possibilities, thinking about variations…until she realized how long the silence had lasted.

Talk about embarrassed. “I—I’m sorry.” She felt her face and neck flush with heat. “I—”

“Don’t apologize.” He cleared his throat. “I was right—you’re dynamite with that song. What do you have to do to get the rights to sing it?”

“Pay big bucks, probably. I’ll get my agent to investigate.”

“Good.” He paused, and Cait could tell he was ready to say goodbye. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. I hope you know I really am sorry for…everything.”

“Forget it.” She wanted to keep him on the line but, really, what did they have to talk about?

“If you will.”

“Then it’s done.” She took a deep breath and made the break herself. “Good night, Ben.”

“Night…Cait.”

She set down the phone and rolled to her side on the bed, breathing in the lavender scent of Anna’s pillowcases. Flowered wallpaper and crisp, frilly curtains, lace-trimmed pillows and old-fashioned furniture…the guest room reflected Anna’s careful, caring personality, her love of beautiful, comfortable surroundings. After two solid months on the road, sleeping in anonymous motel rooms, Cait reveled in the luxury. If only she could sing her songs, and then come home every night to something like this….

She drifted off to sleep, into dreams she sensed but couldn’t remember, and woke to the smell of coffee. That meant she’d overslept and left Anna and David to get their own breakfast. Of course, ten-thirty was very early on a Saturday morning for most musicians she knew to be out of bed. Cait considered this just one more example of the way she would never fit in with the normal, everyday routine her sister lived. Not to mention Ben Tremaine.

Why bring him up, anyway?

She found Anna alone at the table in the cozy kitchen, looking as if she hadn’t slept very well.

“Everything okay?” Cait poured herself a mug of coffee. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Cait blinked at the unusual sharpness in Anna’s tone. “You look tired, is all.”

Her sister took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I guess you’re right—I am tired.”

“Maybe we should have stayed home last night.”