The Secret Christmas Child

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “That’s right, Estelle,” Mr. Romano said. “You need to go home. Now.”

  “I’m just sitting here,” she protested. “With my...friends. Isn’t that right, Santiago? Aren’t we friends?”

  An eruption of barking from the backstage area pulled Reese’s attention away from Gabby and the others. He strode back to see what was going on.

  Biff, who’d been a handful all day, stood barking at the small white dogs who were to serve as lambs. Jacob was yelling at him, exactly what the trainer had said not to do.

  Bundi cowered in the back of her crate.

  “Jacob,” Reese snapped. “You know strategies to handle him. Think, don’t just react.” Then he rolled his eyes at himself, because he’d reacted rather than thought, yelling at Jacob.

  “Oh! Sorry.” Jacob tugged Biff away from the white dogs, and when he balked, Jacob snapped his harness on him for better control.

  As he tried to switch the leash from Biff’s collar to his harness, though, Biff jerked forward, and Jacob lost his grip.

  Biff loped out into the crowd, drool hanging from the sides of his huge, panting mouth. Jacob ran after him.

  Reese thought of the three elders sitting front and center and rushed after them, until a hand on his arm made him pause.

  “Let him handle it,” Hannah said.

  “But this is dangerous!”

  “Biff! Come!” From center stage, Jacob added the special little yodel he’d been using to train Biff, and the dog stopped just a yard short of the horrified-looking Mr. Romano. The big dog spun and ran up the stage stairs to Jacob, dropping into a sit position in front of the boy.

  “Yes, good boy!” Jacob handed him a treat as he slid the harness onto him and secured it.

  The crowd burst into applause as Jacob led Biff backstage.

  Disaster averted, and it was seven o’clock. Show time. Reese trotted up to the stage, welcomed everyone, and explained a little bit about the Rescue Haven program.

  Now everyone watched the stage expectantly, but aside from some panicky-sounding voices and the occasional bark from backstage, nothing happened.

  Reese’s stomach churned. What had they been thinking, letting the boys do a show on so little preparation?

  He started to go backstage, but Paige and a couple of the younger boys came out in costume. “While they solve some technical difficulties,” Paige said, gesturing behind her, “we wanted to have everyone warm up with a Christmas carol or two. Because we are going to ask you to sing during our performance. Does anyone have a favorite?”

  Bernadette raised her hand. “How about ‘Go, Tell It on the Mountain’?”

  “Do we have that?” Paige asked the younger boys.

  They pulled out a tablet computer and did some quick scrolling and tapping, and soon the familiar music came through the speakers.

  “Will you come up and lead it with me, Miss Bernadette?” Paige asked. “I don’t know the words real well.”

  “I’d be honored.” The woman hurried up toward the front and soon had the crowd singing enthusiastically.

  When the song was over, Paige and the boys went backstage, and there was again the sound of voices arguing and a dog whining.

  Reese’s heart rate shot up again. What were they doing back there? No matter how poorly, they had to put on some kind of a show.

  He’d have to go back and order them to get started, ready or not. But just as he made that decision, Wolf came out onto the stage and waved his hands for quiet.

  “Before we get started, I want to ask for your help,” he said. “Can you be real quiet for a minute?”

  Lots of nods and curious faces.

  He stepped backstage. Seconds later, he emerged holding Bundi in his arms. “This is Bundi,” he said, gently rubbing her behind the ears. “She’s playing the role of a sheep. A black sheep, I guess.”

  There were a few chuckles, quickly silenced. “Anyway, she’s about fifteen years old from what we know of her background,” Wolf said, “and she gets a little confused at times.”

  “Don’t we all,” Nana said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. She’s fine with voices, but loud noises bother her. So when she’s out onstage, don’t clap and cheer, okay?” He grinned. “If you were planning to clap and cheer. We hope you’ll want to.” He hesitated, then added, “My great-gram’s the same way, forgets some things, but she still likes to be involved, and we love having her involved. Hey, Grammy.” He waved to a woman whose wheelchair was parked in the back of the church.

  “Say hi, Grammy, it’s Wolf.” Wolf’s mother, standing beside the wheelchair, spoke into the woman’s ear, and she gamely lifted a hand in greeting.

  Wolf’s mom looked teary eyed as she held a hand out to Wolf and then patted her own heart.

  The big boy smiled and blew her a kiss. “Anyway, we wanted to let Bundi be involved. She’s still a great dog, even though she’s old.”

  There were nods, and smiles and murmurs, and even Mr. Romano uncrossed his arms and looked thoughtful.

  Reese realized, with surprise and relief, that the very imperfections of the performance worked to showcase the boys’ strengths.

  Whether or not they managed to win over their major donor, they’d won Reese over. He was proud of them.

  * * *

  Gabby hovered backstage, straightening costumes and reminding boys of lines until, finally, Jacob ordered her to “go listen, we’re fine!”

  Then she saw that they needed it to be entirely their production. She needed to stop interfering. She slipped out to stand beside Reese at the side of the room.

  “Everything okay back there?” he whispered as the music started.

  “I hope so. They kicked me out.”

  He reached down and gave her hand a quick squeeze, and she felt it all the way up her arm and into her heart. Working together with Reese on something important, helping boys who had problems, just as they’d both had problems growing up...it meant so much. Maybe too much. That remained to be seen, once she’d had the chance to tell him the whole truth about what had happened after he’d gone to war.

  The music built to a loud rap beat, and the shepherds shuffled out, Wolf carrying Bundi, two of the others each walking a white dog.

  Several members of the audience looked surprised. It wasn’t the music you typically heard in a church, nor the volume.

  But Wolf turned to the sound boys and pumped a flat hand up and down, and they lowered the volume.

  Good.

  They rapped together about the shepherds, seeing a star, getting surprised, agreeing to go. It was ragged; this was the one song Paige wasn’t involved with, and it showed.

  But the boys were focused and trying. And then Bundi lifted her head and struggled, and Wolf let her down to stand on the stage with the two other dogs. One of the shepherds rolled a ball toward Bundi, slowly, and she caught it in her mouth and then looked surprised. Still rapping, Wolf knelt and petted her, and she dropped the ball into his hand. He rolled it, and she chased after it again. The effect was as if all three dogs were lambs, gamboling together. Perfect, and Gabby could see that the crowd was touched, not least because of the great big boy being so tender with the little dog.

  As the shepherds shuffled offstage, leading the dogs, Paige came out. She wore a pale blue head covering and a simple long white dress. She smiled and lifted her arms, and the music of “Angels We Have Heard on High” started to play. “Join in, everyone,” she encouraged, and the audience did.

  The next scene was in the stable, and the song, while it still had a rap beat, was a bit more melodic thanks to Paige’s being the main singer. Gabby glanced around and found the audience rapt. “They’re liking it,” she said, and squeezed Reese’s hand.

  This time, they kept their hands clenched together. Which mad
e Gabby’s breath go faster. Reese’s nearness, the smell of his aftershave, the feel of his callused hand...it was all intoxicating.

  At the end of the song, little David stepped forward. “Mary and Joseph were basically homeless,” he said, “which means their child was homeless, too.” He paused and looked out at his mother, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. “I just wanted to say, my...my family, we’ve been homeless before, too, and it’s hard.”

  Gabby could hear several people around her murmuring in apparent surprise.

  David knelt and picked up one of the white dogs. “This is Blanca, and she’s been homeless, too. They found her running around on the street, and you couldn’t even tell she was a white dog at first.”

  As if she knew she was the center of attention, Blanca sat perfectly straight. Then, at a gesture from David, she rose onto her back legs into a begging position, and he rewarded her with a treat.

  Gabby squeezed Reese’s hand, blinking back tears.

  “Sometimes when you’re homeless, you feel worthless,” David went on. “But to think that Jesus, the savior of the world, spent some time that way...well, it makes you feel better.”

  Blanca let out one sharp bark as if to agree.

  David left the stage, leading Blanca, and the audience burst into applause.

  Paige led them in “Away in a Manger,” and Gabby saw several people wiping tears.

  The final song was a rap about Jesus as Lord, and yet a kid.

  “You wouldn’t think a kid could make a difference, but he did,” was the chorus.

  And as Gabby looked around, she saw that these children were making a difference. “They’re making a difference because of you,” she whispered to Reese.

  “And you,” he whispered back.

  In his eyes, she saw mirrored the same happiness and joy she felt herself. And as the whole room swept into a moving version of “Silent Night, Holy Night,” and the boys all came out to sing and then take their bows, she was deeply moved.

  She was so, so glad she’d come home. So glad she’d been persuaded to work with Reese.

  So excited about whatever might come next.

  Chapter Twelve

  Reese breathed a sigh of relief as the applause died down and people started heading to the back of the room, where the cookies, hot chocolate and excited boys were.

  Judging from Mr. Romano’s reluctantly impressed face, they’d pulled it off. After that initial series of glitches, the presentation had gone well. The boys were endearing and talented, and Paige had brought both beauty and dignity to her role. The dogs had behaved as well as could be expected, and even Biff, firmly restrained by Jacob, had earned applause by raising a paw to the congregation to wave goodbye.

  Gabby was talking to Bernadette Williams and another board member Reese didn’t know. It looked like a lovefest, and Gabby was smiling ear to ear, obviously enjoying herself. So when one of the teenage helpers came in from the nursery with Izzy, Reese offered to take charge of her. He walked through the gathering with the baby against his chest, greeting people, accepting their congratulations and questions, but always aware of Gabby.

  The weight of little Izzy, the clean, baby-shampoo smell of her, the way she laughed and pulled at his ear, all of it tugged at his heart. He’d never been one of those guys who was a natural with babies, but Izzy was special. Extra sweet, just like her mama. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

  He couldn’t wait to share with Gabby his thoughts and opinions about how the show had gone, to laugh with her and hear what people had said.

  All of a sudden Marla Evans, one of his aunt’s friends, stepped directly in front of him, blocking his path. “I admire you, Reese,” she said.

  The compliment was surprising enough that he didn’t back away immediately as he might otherwise have. He’d seen Marla stir up trouble too often to be one of her fans, and he’d certainly never heard her say anything positive about him. But maybe the show had affected her. “What would cause you to admire me, Marla? It’s the boys who deserve your admiration, not me.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She pursed her artificially enhanced lips. “I don’t know if I should say what I am talking about.”

  “Up to you.” Reese guessed he had to be nice to the woman. After all, they were in church. He inhaled the scent of pine and candles and sugar cookies, listened to the sound of people talking happily. Everyone was excited about the holiday, and it was good to see.

  “You’re so forgiving,” Marla said.

  He frowned. “Am I?” He looked over her head, scanning for Gabby, not wanting her out of his sight.

  “To be so friendly with the girl who was with your cousin the night he died.”

  “Say what?” He was only half listening.

  “Oh, I don’t blame her for it the way a lot of people do, but if she hadn’t fought with poor dear Brock...who knows? He might be here with us now.”

  “Wait a minute.” Reese focused on what Marla was saying. “Gabby was with Brock on the night he...”

  “Oh, you didn’t know?” The delight of a natural gossip crossed her face. “Yes, apparently they had quite an argument. Lovers’ quarrel, I guess. Such a shame.”

  Brock and Gabby hadn’t had a lovers’ quarrel. They hadn’t been lovers. The very idea of Marla saying that annoyed Reese. Perhaps sensing his tension, Izzy stirred in his arms, arching her back as she looked around. She must want her mother.

  And Reese wanted away from this conversation.

  Marla held out a hand toward Izzy and patted her head. When Izzy twisted away from the unfamiliar touch, Marla ran a finger over the baby’s face. “Poor little fatherless thing. She looks so much like her—like Brock.”

  Reese had been turning away, but he stopped. “What did you say?”

  Marla looked him directly in the eyes. “She looks a lot like Brock.”

  Time itself seemed to stop, and the room seemed to go silent, and all he could see was Izzy’s face.

  A face that looked so much like his cousin’s that he was amazed at his own stupidity for never having seen it before.

  He hadn’t realized that Gabby had been with Brock on the night he’d died. It made sense; after all, Brock had posted a photo of himself with Gabby not long before that night.

  But the fact that Izzy looked so much like him...

  He mumbled out some kind of a “see you later” to Marla. As if he were moving through thick cotton, he made his way over to Gabby, who now stood on the edge of the crowd. People still spoke to him, but he couldn’t process their words, couldn’t take the time to respond in a socially correct manner.

  When he reached Gabby, now standing a little apart from everyone else, she brushed back her hair and smiled up at him, that sweet, intimate smile.

  It made him furious.

  He thrust Izzy into her arms. “Why did you lie to me?”

  “About what?” The smile slid from her face.

  “You know what.” He gestured toward the baby. “About her.” Then, when she still looked confused, he spelled it out. “About her father. He wasn’t a college boy at all, was he?”

  A part of him hoped she’d get angry, defend herself, ask him what he was talking about. But she didn’t, of course. Instead, she looked at the floor, half turned away. “Reese, I...” She broke off.

  Heat surged from his cracked-open heart. “What everyone says is right,” he spat out. “You’re a liar, from a family of liars.”

  He’d thought he was speaking softly, but the murmurs around him started to come through. If people couldn’t hear what they were saying, they could probably detect the tone. He looked around at a blur of faces and homed in on one: Jacob’s, closer than the rest, full of raw pain.

  That made his heart lurch, but he couldn’t be bothered with worry for the boy when his fury at Gabby was so
fresh, so sharp.

  He looked at Gabby again. Tears were leaking from her eyes. Crocodile tears. But she was saying nothing in her own defense.

  “Aren’t you even going to answer me?” he demanded.

  She brushed the tears from her face and lifted her chin. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said loud and clear, “and no right to ask me questions.”

  What an amazing amount of gall she had. “We’re through.” He wanted to say more, but he didn’t trust himself to stop if he got started. Instead, he turned and stormed out of the church.

  * * *

  Gabby’s heart felt torn in two as she watched Reese go. There had been fury in every line in his face, and now, his rigid back and fast strides spelled out control on the very edge.

  Izzy shifted and arched her back, then broke into a loud cry. If every eye in the church hadn’t been on Gabby before, it was now as she tried without success to calm her baby.

  She just wanted to curl in on herself and weep. Weep for the loss of what she’d foolishly allowed herself to hope for: that Reese cared about her, the real her. That he would accept her and might with time be able to hear and deal with the truth.

  But she couldn’t think about her own pain, because Izzy was wailing inconsolably now, no doubt picking up on the tension in the room. She propped her daughter on her shoulder and headed toward the ladies’ room, head down, avoiding people’s eyes. Maybe she just needed a diaper change. And maybe time away from all these people would calm Gabby down, too.

  As she reached the edge of the room, someone tapped on her shoulder.

  It was Hannah, studying her with concern on her face. “Hey, you okay?”

  Gabby nodded, not trusting her voice.

  Hannah fell into step beside her, and Gabby didn’t know how to tell her she wanted to be alone.

  “Listen, this is none of my business,” Hannah said, “but Marla Evans was talking to Reese a few minutes ago, and the two of them had words.”

  So that was how Reese had found out. From a town gossip.