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The Secret Christmas Child

Page 6

by Lee Tobin McClain


  Jacob started in with the rest, but she tapped his shoulder. “Someone has to stay outside with Biff,” she reminded him.

  “It says it’s dog friendly.” He pointed at a sign.

  “That’s only if your dog is well behaved. Maybe one day, Biff will be able to go in, but not until he’s reliable with the basics and doesn’t jump on people.”

  Jacob opened his mouth as if to argue, but Biff chose that moment to lunge at a gray-haired woman and her Chihuahua walking past, the Chihuahua decked out in a pink sweater and cap. Fortunately, between them, Gabby and Jacob were able to restrain Biff, but not before a major barkfest. Biff’s deep bass woofs and the Chihuahua’s soprano ones drew attention from passersby.

  Fortunately, the Chihuahua’s owner didn’t get upset; she laughed, picked up her yapping dog and patted Biff’s head. “Merry Christmas from both of us,” she said, waving the Chihuahua’s paw at them before turning and walking away.

  “Biff is strong,” Jacob admitted after the woman and dog had walked on down the street. “I’ll stay outside and work on his training. See, I brought treats.” He held up a bag.

  “You think you can control him?”

  “Yeah. He just caught me off guard that time. Right, Biff?” He knelt and put an arm around the big dog.

  Biff gave a low woof and licked Jacob’s face, and Jacob laughed and rubbed the dog’s floppy ears, then kissed his head. It was an unscripted, vulnerable moment in which Gabby saw her brother for the child he still was.

  Working with Biff was so good for Jacob. It was bringing out a side of him she hadn’t seen before, a side that touched her heart. She couldn’t resist bending down to rub Jacob’s arm, moving away before he could protest. She didn’t want to push it.

  As she started into the store, Reese arrived from parking the van and fell into step beside her. “You really care for him, don’t you?”

  She glanced back at Jacob, who was using a treat to try to guide Biff into a sit as the dog cocked his head, looking puzzled. “Yeah. I’m sorry to say I barely knew him when he was younger. Just no opportunity. Having him here for the holidays is a blessing.”

  “For both of you.”

  “And for Nana, too,” she said. “Jacob is a good kid. He might act uninterested in stuff, but he spent a couple of hours watching YouTube videos on dog training last night. He wants to do a good job.”

  Reese’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Hope it works. Biff is a tough case.”

  “I appreciate your giving him a challenge. It’s just what he needs.”

  “Fifteen is a tough age.” As they went inside, he gestured at the rest of the boys, clustered at the other side of the shop. “So you think their idea is going to work?”

  “You’re being generous, calling it an idea. It’s pretty rough.”

  “It’s all we’ve got.”

  “True.” She studied the boys. Hair sticking up or flattened down, all arms and legs and big feet, making too much noise for the small shop. “To be honest, I have no idea. But I think dressing up the dogs as stable animals in the nativity could be cute.”

  He grimaced. “Dogs in outfits never appealed to me.”

  “It’s not outfits, exactly,” she consoled him as they approached the boys. “More...costumes. Like for actors.”

  “Do you have time to make all those costumes?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not making them. I’m teaching the boys how to sew, and they’re making them.”

  “In a week?” The words seemed to burst out of him.

  “Chill, Reese!” She patted his arm. “It won’t take that long.”

  He looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath, then looked back at her. “Gabby, I don’t know if you realize how serious this is. If Santiago Romano talks the board into pulling our funding, the program will end and these kids won’t have anywhere to go.” He glanced back toward the street where Jacob was working with Biff. “The dogs, too.”

  She slightly resented the accusation that she wasn’t taking it seriously, but on the other hand, he had a point. She was new, here temporarily, not as invested in the program as he was. She’d come up with the idea of the Christmas pageant and blurted it out without really thinking it through. “I’m sorry, Reese,” she said, touching the fabric of his shirt sleeve to keep his attention, feeling the hard prosthesis beneath her fingers. “I won’t take it lightly. The costumes will get made, and I’ll do my very best to make the program a success.”

  He’d stopped still when she’d touched him, and now he glanced down at where her hand still rested on his prosthetic arm. They were blocked off from the boys by a Christmas tree decorated with colorful ceramic ornaments. The smell of evergreen pine blended with a ginger and cinnamon fragrance from the café side. The boys were talking quietly and laughing, and in the background, quiet Christmas music played.

  She made the mistake of looking into Reese’s eyes, and then she couldn’t look away.

  He was watching her with eyes narrowed, his expression speculative. It was the Reese she’d known and loved in high school, and yet it wasn’t. These eyes had seen war and pain and loss. They had a depth of understanding that hadn’t been there before.

  She sucked in a breath, her palms suddenly moist, her heart dancing along at a faster-than-normal clip. If they were alone, she’d have been sorely tempted to reach up and pull him closer for a kiss.

  Did he still feel the chemistry between them?

  Suddenly, from the other side of the Christmas display where the boys were gathered, a loud, discordant rap song blared out, its beat throbbing, questionable lyrics penetrating the peace of the little shop.

  “Whoa!” Gabby looked away from Reese and saw an older gentleman among the woodworking supplies, frowning and touching his hearing aid.

  “Let’s put a stop to that right now,” Reese said.

  They both rushed over to the boys, but it was Reese’s stern voice that got their attention. “Turn that off. Now.”

  “Aw, it’s a great song.” Wolf, the biggest of the boys, put a pleading tone into his voice, but after another look at Reese’s expression, he turned off the music.

  “We’re in a public place with its own music,” Gabby scolded. “You can’t be playing yours.”

  “We’re just trying to find the background music of a couple of songs we might use,” David said. He was the one who’d been fighting with Wolf on the day she’d interviewed, and she was glad to see they were getting along, for now at least.

  “We’re making up our own words and putting it to music, a song that we already know,” another boy, Connor from the train station, chimed in.

  “Kinda like karaoke, only more creative,” David added.

  “Is that even legal?” Reese asked, frowning. “We don’t want to use an artist’s music without paying for it.”

  “We’ll research it,” Gabby said. “I’m pretty sure there are websites where you can download music for free or cheap.”

  She looked at Reese, who stood, hands on hips, looking too large for the cute little shop. He also seemed more cautious, more guarded, more of a worrier than the free-spirited boy she’d known in high school and during the carefree years afterwards.

  It wasn’t her place to judge him, though. He had all kinds of reasons for his attitude to have darkened.

  Meanwhile, it looked like she needed to take charge. “I need two or three of you to come look at fabric,” she said briskly, “and I’ll show you how to measure it and make sure you have the right amount. The rest of you...” She looked at Reese. “The rest of you can order hot chocolate and Christmas cookies for all of us over in the café. Find a couple of big tables and start writing down your ideas for the show. If that song you were playing is part of it, explain your vision to Reese. Without playing it again in here.”

  As she started to walk away, she fel
t Reese’s touch on her shoulder and paused, looking back.

  “Thanks,” he said, “and I’m sorry to be a grouch. I’ll work on my attitude.”

  His smile was so dazzling, she was rendered speechless. She opened and closed her mouth, couldn’t find words, then turned around and followed the boys to the bolts of fabric.

  Working with Reese meant they saw each other at their best and their worst, and that they were forced to communicate.

  And her own fluttery feelings for him might make their togetherness more complicated than she’d ever expected.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Reese stirred the last of his hot chocolate with a peppermint stick and watched Gabby give feedback to the boys on the lyrics they were working on. She was good with them, gently steering them away from words and phrases that might offend, praising the few promising portions. She laughed at their jokes, a husky sound that danced along his nerve endings, and when she looked over at him and smiled, her whole face lit up.

  He didn’t feel very optimistic, still, about the production, but at least he felt like there would be some kind of show. And working with Gabby on it was...interesting.

  Just as she got the boys started on some revisions, her phone buzzed. She looked at the text with concern, then smiled.

  “Good news?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Nana’s doctor is actually an old acquaintance of mine. Remember Sheniqua Rhoades?”

  He got an image of a smiling older girl in long, beaded braids. “Sort of.”

  “It was that program where college girls helped out at the middle school. She was my mentor. Anyway, she says Nana’s going to be fine.” She glanced at the message again. “As long as she can rest and not get stressed.”

  “Rest and not get stressed? Taking care of...” He bit off the rest of his sentence, not wanting to make her feel bad.

  She read his mind. Just like she always had. “I know,” she said. “How can she relax while taking care of Izzy? But I truly think she enjoys it, and she knows she can always call me to take her if it gets to be too much.” She looked up at him from underneath her bangs. “That’s okay with you, right? If I bring her over to work every now and then? Or not?”

  “It’s fine,” he said firmly. He’d done a lot of thinking and praying after talking with Corbin last night. He’d realized he had some growing to do, and maybe the way that was going to happen was through Gabby and her daughter.

  Nobody was perfect. Which meant he didn’t have to be, either.

  Their eyes met and held, and then she looked away, staring out the window. Then her brow wrinkled. “Who’s that girl Jacob’s talking to? She looks familiar.”

  Reese followed her line of sight. “That’s trouble,” he said, standing. “She’s my cousin.”

  “That’s Paige? Brock’s baby sister?”

  Reese nodded. “Yep.”

  Some of the kids around them picked up on their conversation and focus. “That must be Jacob’s friend he was talking about,” David said.

  “He’s gonna ask her to be the Virgin Mary,” Connor said. “Because none of us wanted to play a girl.”

  “She’s hot.” A grin spread across Wolf’s face.

  “Hey, now,” Reese said. “That’s my cousin, and you’re only allowed to admire her mind. She’s very smart.”

  A smile quirked up the corners of Gabby’s mouth, but it quickly turned to a frown. “Oh, no. Is that your aunt and uncle?”

  Reese turned and then stood. “I’ll deal with them, but you might want to come help with Jacob.”

  “I will.” She looked severely at the boys. “Wolf, you’re in charge of keeping everyone neat and quiet while we talk to the Markowskis. I want to see those lyrics revised and sketches of the costumes when we come back, so get busy, all of you.”

  Reese was glad she’d thought of giving the boys a task, but even more, he was determined to get to Jacob and Paige before his aunt and uncle started trouble.

  But he was too late. Just as he stepped outside, Biff lifted a muddy paw in the direction of his aunt, getting mud on her cream-colored coat.

  “Eek!” she screeched. “Get that beast away from me.”

  Jacob knelt, rubbing Biff’s ears. “You gave paw, boy! Good job!”

  “It most certainly was not a good job,” his aunt sputtered.

  “Oh, Mom,” Paige said. “He didn’t hurt you, and anyway, wearing a light-colored coat in all this slush is ridiculous.”

  “It is, dear,” Reese’s uncle said. “But,” he added, glaring at Paige, “we’ve discussed this before. You’re not to have any contact with that boy.” He nodded dismissively toward Jacob.

  Gabby took a step forward and put an arm around Jacob’s shoulders. He didn’t shrug away, which spoke volumes about how upset he was.

  Reese had been in Jacob’s shoes, the bad kid nobody wanted around, and he felt for the boy. He just wasn’t sure whether it was worth it to try to fix a relationship that was never going to work out. Probably best to just keep Jacob away from his aunt and uncle, who weren’t going to change.

  “Da-ad,” Paige whined, “you made me block him on social, but you didn’t say I couldn’t even talk to him.”

  “I’m saying it now. There’s nothing you two need to talk about.”

  “Yes, there is! They want me to be the Virgin Mary in their Christmas pageant.” Paige grabbed her father’s hand. “Can I, Daddy, please?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good...” He sputtered to a stop and looked at his wife. “Mother? What do you think?”

  “I think someone should help me clean off this coat,” she said. She was rubbing at the muddy paw print with a tissue. It looked like she was making it worse.

  Nowhere in the whole conversation had either of them acknowledged Reese, but he still felt obliged to intervene. “Listen, everyone. This doesn’t have to be decided now, here, in the cold.” He turned to Jacob. “If Paige can’t do it, there are several other girls from the church who could.”

  “Mom! I want to do it. I’d be the only girl.”

  Reese looked over at Gabby, who gave him a minuscule shrug. Jacob was kneeling beside Biff, restraining him from jumping...and also getting some comfort from the big dog’s slobbery, unconditional love, Reese was guessing.

  “Reese,” Gabby said, “if you could hold Biff, I’d like for Jacob to go inside with me. I need to take a look at what the other boys are working on, and Jacob needs to get up to speed with them, as well.”

  And we both need to get away from your toxic aunt and uncle. He could read that unspoken message.

  “Good idea,” he said, and took the leash from Jacob.

  Once the two of them were inside, any hint of civility disappeared from Paige’s voice. “You embarrassed me so much!” She glared at her parents. “How could you be so rude to him?”

  “That boy is trouble,” Reese’s uncle said.

  “He’s doing his best.” Reese was reaching for patience. “I’m going to leave the three of you to discuss whether Paige can participate. If she can’t, I understand, but if you could let us know ASAP, we’d appreciate it.”

  Uncle Clive’s eyes narrowed. “Just what’s the connection between you and that woman?” He gestured in Gabby’s direction.

  Reese lifted an eyebrow. “She’s my employee.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “That’s all.” Reese was only now realizing he wished it could be more.

  “Let us talk about it,” Aunt Catherine suggested unexpectedly. She pulled her husband’s sleeve, practically dragging him off to the side of the store building.

  Then commenced a vehement discussion out of their hearing. Paige and Reese watched for a minute.

  “How’s school?” he asked, trying for normal conversation.

  “We’re on break.” She frowned
toward her parents. “I just don’t get why they’re so against Jacob. When I started hanging out with him last summer, they acted like he was a criminal. But as far as I know, he hasn’t ever gotten into any real trouble.”

  “Just not their kind of people, I guess.”

  “Like you were?” Paige looked at him shrewdly.

  “Touché.” He looked through the window and was relieved to see that Gabby and the boys were smiling and talking. Nobody seemed upset; nobody seemed to be getting out of hand.

  “We’ve made a decision,” Uncle Clive said as he and Aunt Catherine came back toward them.

  “I can’t wait,” Paige muttered.

  “She may do the show,” Aunt Catherine said, grandly, as if bestowing an enormous favor, “but Clive or I will be at every rehearsal.”

  Reese nearly groaned aloud. It was challenging enough to keep the boys on track and to prioritize which of their poor manners or bad language to correct. With his aunt and uncle there, they’d all be under pressure to be perfect.

  Not only that, but Gabby would be under constant scrutiny, and Aunt Catherine in particular would be looking for opportunities to criticize her. Reese already felt defensive on her behalf.

  The remaining rehearsals were going to be doubly stressful, and none of them needed that.

  Chapter Six

  Two days later—two days closer to showtime—Gabby heard a car pull up outside the barn. She checked the time on her phone and groaned inside. They weren’t close to ready for the Markowskis to arrive.

  The barn was strewn with coats and boots and dog toys. The boys were arguing over control of the laptop computer they were composing their songs on. And the sound of car doors slamming got all the dogs barking.

  She glanced over at Reese, and as was happening more and more often these days, they communicated without words. Troubleshooting time.

  Reese walked toward her, shoulders squared, decisive, a leader. “You hold them off for a few minutes. I want to talk to the boys, man-to-man.”

  Normally, she would have objected to the sexism of that, but she was willing to try anything.

 

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