Shenandoah Christmas

Maddie nodded, her eyes closed. Cait sang an Irish lullaby, using the Gaelic in which she’d learned it first. Then she sat, elbows propped on her knees and her chin resting on her fists, just watching the little girl sleep.

“Cait.” Ben’s whisper came from the doorway.

She stood reluctantly, but then pulled herself together and crossed the room. This wasn’t her family, after all, or her house. She was just helping out.

Ben looked in on Shep, then led her to the first floor. At the bottom of the stairs he turned, heading away from the front door. Cait followed, confused, until she remembered she’d said she would call David to come get her. Ben couldn’t leave once the children were asleep.

But in the kitchen, she found the table set with bowls, a plate of bread, and glasses of tea. Ben turned from the stove with a pot in one hand and ladled soup into the bowls. “It’s tomato, from a can. Not very impressive, but it’ll fill you up until you can get back to Anna and David’s house.”

Cait could only stare at him in shock.

“Go on,” he said, putting the pan back on the stove. “Sit down and have something to eat. It’s the least I can do after letting my children abuse you and ruin your Sunday afternoon.”

She sank into a chair because her knees really weren’t too steady. “They didn’t ruin my Sunday. Or abuse me. I had a good time at the party.”

“I’m pretty sure being held hostage by a sick little boy isn’t part of your usual weekend schedule.” He took the seat across the table and picked up his spoon.

“Why are you so convinced you know all about me?” Cait kept her hands folded in her lap. “And why are you so positive you don’t like what you know?”

He put down his spoon. “I—” His cheeks reddened. “I guess that’s pretty much the way I’ve been treating you.”

She nodded. “Pretty much.”

Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his hands over his face. “Sorry. Just call it a protective instinct.”

“I’m not a threat to you, or anyone else that I know of.”

His hands dropped and he gave her a wry smile. “Looked in the mirror lately?”

Cait felt her cheeks heat. “I saw lots of freckles, a snub nose and bags under my eyes from too many late nights.”

Ben considered her, his head cocked to one side. “Well, yeah. But add to that a great mouth and eyes a man could drown in, plus a voice that sounds like pure sex. Now there’s a threat.” As if he hadn’t just knocked the breath out of her, he took up a spoonful of tomato soup.

Cait finally recovered that voice he’d mentioned. “Sounds like sex?”

He nodded and pushed the plate of bread slices closer to her side of the table.

At a loss, Cait finally tasted what just happened to be her favorite soup. “Nobody’s ever said it like that before.”

“Hard to believe. Maybe you missed a review.”

“My agent uses a press-clipping service. No article is too small.” When her bowl was half-empty, she looked up again. “But that doesn’t explain why I threaten you.”

Under a sweater as blue as his eyes, Ben’s shoulders lifted on a deep breath. He put his hands flat on the table on either side of his bowl. “For someone who writes loves songs, you’re not using much imagination. I find you attractive, Cait Gregory.” His eyes darkened as he stared at her. “Very attractive.”

She opened her mouth, though she wasn’t sure what she would say.

He stopped her with a shake of his head. “But even if I felt the need to date or have some kind of relationship, which I don’t, I’m not into short-term affairs. And I can’t imagine that you, with your career and your schedule, would be into anything else. That leaves me defending myself against—” he made a gesture that seemed to encompass her from head to toe “—you.”

Cait allowed anger to override the embarrassment flooding through her. “You arrogant SOB.” She got to her feet. “You’re still making assumptions. About my morality, my taste in men, my—my lifestyle.”

Ben stood up, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared her down. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I don’t have to tell you the time of day.” Dropping her napkin on the table, she turned on her heel and stalked back through the house.

His footsteps pounded after her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Somewhere else.” She wrenched open the front door.

He caught her by the arm, shut the door again with the other hand. “You can’t walk home in the dark.”

Cait jerked back, trying to break his hold. “Let go of me. I can walk anywhere I damn well please whenever I damn well please. That’s what makes me an adult.” She struggled against his grip. “Let go!”

His free hand came to her other shoulder, not harsh or hurtful, but not to be argued with, either. He stared at her, his blue gaze angry, his mouth a straight, hard line. Cait, gazing up at him, caught the flicker in his eyes as that anger evolved, first to regret, then into desire. She would have continued to fight him, but the softening of his lips provoked a similar reaction within her. Instead of pushing away, her palms rested against his chest, absorbing his heat and the hammering beat of his heart. He was tall enough that she had to lean her head back to see his face; she felt exposed, vulnerable. Available.

Ben closed his eyes, wrinkled his brow as if he were in pain. When he looked at her again, need and passion had replaced all other emotions in his face. He dipped his head and Cait parted her lips, even leaned a little closer to hasten the kiss.

From the stairway behind them, a cry drifted down—small and soft, but they could hear energy gathering behind it to produce a full-blown wail.

Ben tightened his grip for an instant, then released her and backed toward the steps. “Look—I can’t let you walk home by yourself in the dark, not even in this little town. If you insist, I’ll put both the kids in the car and drive you myself. Or you can call David. I’ll go upstairs and stay there until he gets here. I promise. Whichever way you want to do this is fine. Just don’t leave alone.”

Cait blew out a sharp breath. “I’ll call David. And I’ll wait for him to pick me up,” she added, in response to the question in Ben’s eyes. “You go up and make sure Shep is okay.”

“Thanks.” He turned and climbed the stairs with a heavy tread. She heard the murmur of his voice in Shep’s room, the gradual easing of the little boy’s cry. Drained, frustrated, insulted and sorry, Cait went back to the kitchen and called her brother-in-law to come take her home.

WITH ONE LOOK at her sister’s face, Anna judged that the afternoon and evening hadn’t been much of a success. “How was the party?”

Cait began to braid her tangled hair without combing it first. “I don’t honestly know. Karen Patterson was nice, but I’m afraid I got in the way of her plans. The kids just kept asking for songs and stories.”

Anna nodded. “You’ve always been a magnet for children. That’s why—” She stopped herself just in time. Mentioning what their dad had planned for Cait’s future—a career as a church musician working with children—was exactly the wrong thing to say. “You’re later than I’d realized you would be. Did something else come up?”

“Shep started feeling sick. He wanted me to sit with him on the way home. Then he wouldn’t let me out of the car. His father managed to control his disgust of me long enough to get the children to sleep and feed me a bowl of soup.” Cait shrugged. “That’s all.”

That was far from all, Anna knew. “He’s had a rough time,” she said gently. “His whole life was shattered with his wife’s death.”

“And what am I supposed to do about that?” Her temper truly lost now, Cait paced the living room. “I’m not moving in on him. I don’t even want to talk to him. And he doesn’t have to talk to me. With the least bit of luck, we can avoid each other for the rest of the time I’m here. Which will suit me just fine.” She stomped out as David came in from the kitchen.

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, then looked at Anna. “What was that all about?”

“Cait and Ben seem to strike sparks off each other whenever they’re together.”

“That’s not a signal for you to start matchmaking, Anna.” He sat in the wing chair across the room and let his head fall back, his hands hanging loosely over the arms. “Your sister doesn’t need a boyfriend.”

“I think he would be good for her, give her roots. And she would bring him back to life.”

“I think they would make each other miserable.” He rolled his head from side to side, closed his eyes. “Man, what a day.”

She hadn’t seen him since their lunch with Cait after the church service. “What have you been doing all afternoon and evening?”

“I met with Timothy for a couple of hours, going over the books. The end of the year will be here before we know it. And with everything there is to do at Christmas, I thought I should get ahead.”

Guilt twisted her stomach. “I’m sorry. If you brought some of the work home, I could help out here. I hate having left with you with so much to do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gently, though his smile was a little forced. “I’m just in a bad mood tonight, I guess. It’s not all that big a deal. But I am tired. Ready for bed?”

He followed her into the bedroom, took his clothes out of the drawer and went into the bathroom, only returning when he was completely changed. Anna was already in bed, waiting. Hoping.

“Don’t worry about Cait,” he said as he turned off the light. “She can take care of herself. No doubt about that.” With a pat on his wife’s hip, he shifted to his side and pulled up the covers. “You just take care of yourself.”

Anna rolled carefully to face in the opposite direction, closing her eyes against tears. David was right, of course—she only had one responsibility right now, to do whatever was necessary to give this baby a chance. And though his…indifference…hurt her, he was simply doing everything he could to help her make the right choices. The doctor hadn’t forbidden sex, though he’d suggested they keep it gentle. By eliminating their lovemaking, Anna was sure her husband thought he was helping her to keep their son alive.

The baby moved inside her—a little hand or foot pushing gently against her flesh—and she put a hand over the place, hoping he felt her love, her yearning for him to arrive safely.

Don’t be in a hurry, she warned him. I’ll wait, for as long as you need.

We’ll all wait.

ON MONDAY EVENING, Harry sat at his desk long after everyone else in the office had gone for the day. For what was probably the fiftieth time, he picked up the letter he’d received that morning and read it through. The words still hadn’t sunk in.

“New owner.” “Efficiency expert.” “Downsizing.” “Restructuring.” “Early retirement.”

He understood the bottom line—he’d been fired. After thirty-five years of service, he had one week to clear out his desk, hand over his work and get out of the building. There would be a dinner to honor all the retirees at some future date.

Some honor. We’ll eliminate your job and give you a free dinner, maybe a gold watch.

Oh, the benefits were good enough. He’d keep his health insurance, his investment plans, his retirement savings. This so-called efficiency expert simply thought Harry would cost the company less money sitting on his duff at home rather than working. Who was he to argue?

But how was he going to tell Peggy he didn’t have a job anymore?

And what the hell would he do with the rest of his life?

CHAPTER FOUR

NEITHER MADDIE nor Shep came to choir practice on Wednesday afternoon. Cait started the children singing Christmas carols, but without Maddie’s strong voice, the sound just wasn’t the same. Brenna, looking rather wan herself, said Maddie hadn’t been to school all week.

Karen Patterson confirmed the news. “I know Ben’s had his hands full—two sick kids is a lot for one adult to manage.” She put a hand over Brenna’s forehead. “I think I’m about to get my own case to deal with. Come on, honey.” She put an arm around her daughter. “Let’s take you home to bed.”

Brenna looked up in horror. “Mama, it’s Halloween!”

Karen winced. “Oh, yeah. Let’s get some medicine, then, see if you feel well enough to go out tonight.” She looked at Cait. “School might be optional, but trick-or-treating is a mandatory commitment.”

Nodding, Cait kept her face straight. “Makes perfect sense to me.” Then she smiled. “I hope you feel better, Brenna.”

She wondered if Maddie and Shep were still too sick to enjoy Halloween. What a shame, after all the time and thought invested in their costumes. And poor Ben, having to be the one to say no.

Later that night, after the trick-or-treaters had stopped coming and Anna and David had gone to bed, Cait sat in the living room with her guitar, playing with chords she eventually realized had segued into “Bobby McGee.” She might as well go ahead and call, she decided. Then she could get them all off her mind.

“Hello?” Even the one word sounded tired.

“Hi, Ben, This is…Cait. I, um, hear you’ve got two patients to nurse this week.”

“Yeah.” He gave a rough cough. “Which was bad enough before I got sick, too.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s awful. Have you got someone to help you? Did you call the Shepherds?”

“Nah. They don’t need to come over here and catch this bug. Besides, I’m the parent—I can take care of my kids.”

“But—”

“And we’re doing okay. We sleep a lot. Take our medicines at the same time, read a story or two, doze off in front of a movie. We’ll get through.”

It was hard to argue with such stubborn independence. “Is there anything I can do? Do you need groceries? Drinks? More medicine?”

There was a long pause. “I—I think we’re covered, thanks.” He sounded stunned. “I appreciate the thought, though.”

“Please call if you need something.” He wouldn’t, of course. Why should he think about counting on somebody who was only passing through?

Why was she making trouble for herself by wishing he would?

“I guess you started on the Christmas pageant in choir today,” he said. “Maddie’ll be sorry to have missed that.”

If he wanted to talk… “We sang a few songs. She’ll catch up.”

“I think she knows most of the popular carols by heart already.”

That sounded all too familiar. “You must really enjoy Christmas, having two children to share the season with you.”

He cleared his throat. “To be honest, Christmas is the one time of year I almost wish I’d never had kids. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just another day.”

Now it was Cait’s turn to pause. “Really?”

“And it takes everything I’ve got to get through the damn month of December without exploding—or simply walking away and never, ever coming back.” The bitterness in his voice was barely suppressed.

Shock held her silent. Ben Tremaine, the ultimate dad, didn’t like Christmas, either?

“Sorry,” he said, when she didn’t respond for a minute. “Chalk that insanity up to the fever and forget about it. And thanks for checking in.”

“Don’t cut me off.” Cait sat up straight, clutched the phone tighter, to keep him with her. “You can’t say something like that and just hang up.”

“Sure I can. And should.”

“What happened at Christmas that makes you hate it so much?”

“I can’t just be a grinch on principle?”

“It takes one to know one.” She grinned. “And I know that even grinches have history.”

He drew a rasping breath. “Okay. It’s not too complicated. When I was six years old, the woman who called herself my mother walked out of the house on Christmas Eve and didn’t come back. My dad celebrated the next twenty-two anniversaries of her departure—until he died, that is—by getting drunk and staying that way until the new year. I just never got into the Christmas spirit, somehow.”

Cait was quiet for a long time. Finally, she took the risk. “I know what it’s like to—to dread Christmas.”

“I guess the holidays are a tough time to be traveling from one show to the next.”

Though he couldn’t see her, she shook her head. “No, what’s tough is just watching. From the outside. Knowing you can’t get in.”

“Why can’t you get in?”

The hard part. “I was kicked out, more or less. By my father.”

After a few seconds, he said, “Your turn to explain.”

She sighed. “My senior year in high school, he and I had major disagreements over what I would do after graduation. He was thinking about college, a music education degree, a job as a church choir director and organist.”

“While you wanted the career you’ve got.”

“Exactly. The sooner, the better. And it all came to a head on Christmas Eve, about an hour before the pageant I’d been working on for three months. My dad found the college applications he assumed I’d submitted, hidden where I thought he’d never find them.” She gave a wry laugh. “Just my luck, that was the year he decided to wear his plaid vest, the one packed away in a cedar chest. In the attic. Right underneath all those application papers.”

Ben’s laugh turned into a cough. “I guess he raised holy hell.”

“There wasn’t much holy about it, in my opinion, anyway. He threw me out of the house and forbade me to darken the doors of ‘his’ church that night and at any time in the future.”

“What about your mom?” A gentle question.

“She died when I was four, during a miscarriage.” Cait took a deep breath. “It’s not just the baby we’re worried about with Anna. The ultrasound her doctor did at her six-month checkup showed the same condition my mom had—the placenta is too low in the womb, which could cause serious bleeding. So…we have to be really careful.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I haven’t given Christmas much thought since the showdown with my dad. I mean, I believe the basic story, but the human applications…”

“Leave a lot to be desired.”

How strange, to be understood. Even Anna didn’t quite comprehend why Cait avoided Christmas. “Definitely.”

“So we’re a couple of Scrooges in the middle of a whole town of Tiny Tims.”

That made her laugh. “I guess so. At least I can hole up in a hotel somewhere until it’s over. You still have to make the holiday for Maddie and Shep, don’t you?”

“My wife—Valerie—pretty much handled Christmas for the family, and let me kind of hang around the edges. But since she was killed…I’m the main source of holiday happenings. Peggy and Harry help, but they’re not here every day for the countdown.”

“It must be tough.”

“I’m always really glad to see that ball fall in Times Square on New Year’s Eve.”

In the pause, a new voice came through the line. “Daddy? My head hurts.” Cait heard the rustle of clothes, a grunt from Ben, then somebody’s sigh. “Is that Maddie?”

“Yeah. The fever’s coming back. For all of us, I think.”

“I’ll let you go, then, and hope the three of you feel better tomorrow morning. Call if you need anything.”

“Sure.”

Ben punched off the phone and sat for a minute, cradling Maddie in his arms and thinking about the woman he was reluctantly coming to know. Caitlyn Gregory, singer and sexy, talented rising star, was someone he could easily keep at a distance.

He wasn’t so sure he’d be able to resist the simpler Cait’s innate charm and warmth, her willingness to give of herself.

Maddie stirred against him and he felt her forehead. “Time for more grape medicine,” he murmured against her curls. As he staggered to his feet, Shep made a small noise upstairs. The reminder brought him back to reality.

Attractive as getting involved with Cait might seem, this situation wasn’t about his wants, his choices. He had a responsibility to keep his children safe from any more pain, any more loss, than was absolutely necessary.

And he’d do whatever he had to in order to protect his kids. Even from a woman as agreeable as Cait Gregory was turning out to be.

“SO, CAIT, what are your plans for the Christmas pageant?” Soprano Ellen Morrow settled into her spot on the pew for Thursday night adult choir rehearsal. “We’re all anxious to get started—costumes take a few weeks, you know.”

Cait flipped the switch to turn on the electric organ. “Um…I don’t think—”

“My boys are bugging me to lend you some ewes for the stable,” Timothy Bellows added. Tall and thin, Timothy sang with a rich baritone voice on Sundays and ran a very successful farming operation during the week. “I’m thinking that would be a good idea. We never had live animals before.”

“Jimmy Martin’s got a donkey. And there are cows all over the place.” Ellen brushed back her long brown hair. “All we would need is a camel. Anybody have a camel?”

“Hugh Jones has a zebra. Will that do?” The banter continued, while Cait tried to decide how to redirect the rehearsal to music. Quickly, before someone asked a question she didn’t want to answer.

“Wait a minute, folks.” Timothy held up a hand and the choir quieted. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. We haven’t heard what Cait’s got to say.”

“I thought we’d start on some Christmas music,” Cait said. “But that’s as far as I’ve gone.”

Ellen nodded. “Music is good, but these kids need to learn their parts. Who have you picked for Mary and Joseph? And the announcing angel?”

“I haven’t chosen.”

“You had better get busy.” Regina Thorne, alto, gave her a stern look. “Anna always has these things worked out by now.”

“Anna lives here,” Timothy pointed out, with a grin at Cait. “Caitlyn isn’t quite so settled. But she’ll get into the swing of things. I’m sure her pageant will turn out just fine.”

The tension in the air relaxed, and the singers settled back into their chairs. Now they were all staring at her expectantly, waiting for some grand pronouncement.

“I don’t know that I’ll be directing the program,” Cait said, as confidently as she could manage. “I think the person who does should choose the parts and the costumes and—and all the rest.”

A stunned silence fell across the small choir.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Ellen said, finally.

“I—I expect Anna will have had her baby by then. So I’ll have to get back to work.”

Another lull in the conversation. “But she won’t be ready for all the work the pageant involves. Not with a new baby.” Regina shook her head. “You’ll just have to stay.”

Every member of the choir nodded, as if the issue were settled. Cait couldn’t fight them all, so she simply ignored the issue. “Open your hymn books to page 153. We’ll warm up with a few verses of ‘Silent Night.’”

The rehearsal proceeded smoothly after that, except for the suggestions that popped up with every new Christmas song—ideas about staging and casting and props, until Cait thought she would start pounding out a Bach fugue on the organ, just to keep everyone quiet.

Once they’d finished singing, Timothy joined Cait at the organ. “We’ve got money set aside in the church budget for the pageant, you know. You don’t have to put something together on a shoestring.” He winked at her. “As church treasurer, I might even be able to pad the expense account a little. Just tell me what you need to spend and I’ll see that the money’s there.”

“That’s good to hear,” she told him. “But—”

“No buts.” Timothy squeezed her shoulder and headed for the door. “You just leave it to me.”

Ellen was the last one to leave, standing by while Cait straightened her music. “You’re not really planning to leave Anna stranded on this pageant, are you?”

Cait slapped her notebook closed. “No, I don’t plan to leave her stranded. I plan to be sure there’s someone else to take on this project. You, for instance.” She gazed at the soprano as the obvious finally hit her. “You’d be perfect, and you already have some great ideas.”

“Oh, no. Not me.” Ellen backed away, shaking her head. She was a tall, heavy woman with an incredibly pure voice. “I’m no good at telling people what to do.”