Under the Christmas Star (Crossroads Collection)

by Amanda Tru

  “That’s woman-speak for ‘get out of my kitchen,’ son, just in case you missed the translation.”

  He glared at Ollie, who was leaning so far back that the chair’s front two legs had come off the ground. Shelby nudged him with her shoulder and whispered, “He’s not wrong.”

  “Fine.” She apparently couldn’t tell he wanted to hang out with her. So, he wouldn’t. “I’m going to change into something dry.” He went to his room and quickly peeled off his wet clothes. Now that the air hit his skin, he was chilled to the bone. He rummaged through his things and found a pair of wool socks and gray sweatpants and T-shirt. He pulled a black sweater over his head and put on his wool slippers.

  Warmer and in a better mood, he headed back into the kitchen. His good mood plummeted when he found George had taken his place. Shelby was giving him her uninterrupted attention. Beau grabbed a coffee cup off a hook and poured himself a cup before sitting down at the table.

  Ollie leaned over and said quietly, “There’s nothing there, boy. George is just testing the waters, and at every turn, Shelby has treated him either like a little boy or a puppy dog.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Beau, just as quietly. “George is her age. It’s natural for them to be attracted to each other.”

  “You dunce.”

  Beau’s jaw tightened as he turned his head slowly to stare at his dad. “I’m sorry. Did you just call me a dunce?”

  “I did. And you are.” Ollie took a swig of coffee. Gave him an appraising look and then leaned forward on his arms, fingers wrapped around the heavy mug. “That young woman is a gift.”

  “I know that, Dad.”

  Ollie shook his head. “I don’t think you do.” His eyes pierced into Beau. “A woman like that comes along once in a lifetime. You’re thinking right now that she’d be happier with someone her own age, like George there.” He nodded to the young man, who was trying to juggle some apples without success. “But that’s denying what God has finally put in front of you.”

  Beau shook his head and looked down at his hands. “Dad, I’m going to be forty-two next year. I’ve been a bachelor a long time.” He glanced up to watch Shelby move around the kitchen, placing sandwiches on plates while chatting with George. Beau’s head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up. “What have I got to offer her?”

  “Beau, did it ever occur to you that all the heartache and all the hardship was to prepare you for this moment?” Ollie nodded toward Shelby, who gave them a quizzical look before turning back to pour the coffee. “That God has allowed you time to build a successful life so that you can care for a wife as God sees fit?”

  Beau’s throat contracted. A wife. He couldn’t think past that thought. Had God really done that? It put a whole new light on a lot of pain in his life.

  “Everything is in God’s good time,” said Ollie, finally, leaning back in his chair. “Might want to consider that before you do something stupid.”

  Shelby brought over two full plates and set them on the table in front of them. “Need a refill on your coffee?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Ollie, pulling the plate closer to him. “I’d appreciate it.”

  She looked at Beau, her eyebrows raised. He nodded to her, not quite sure what to say to her. She grabbed the coffee pot off the burner and filled both cups to the rim.

  “Anything else?”

  Beau cleared his throat. “Just sit down, Shelby, and eat with us. Please.”

  “Sure, let me grab my plate.” She looked at George and tilted her head to the side. “George, would you like to join us?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Beau glowered at him and then nodded his head toward the door.

  “But on the other hand, there’s some stuff I’ve got to do in the barn.” He took a long drink of his coffee and set it down on the counter. “Thanks for the offer though.” And, tipping his hat, headed out the door, leaving a swirl of cold air in his wake.

  “Huh, that was odd.” Shelby picked up her plate and set it on the table.

  “I have to say,” said Ollie, around a mouthful of food, “that I could get used to this.” He leaned forward and stage-whispered, “Run away with me. I’ll treat you like a queen.”

  Shelby chuckled as she sat down in the empty chair. “Right up until the first fight, I bet. Thank you, but no thank you.”

  Ollie shrugged and then winked at Beau. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

  Beau shoved a piece of sandwich in his mouth and glared at his dad. It didn’t faze his father in the least bit, as the old man happily chatted away with Shelby. She’d nod every once in a while, and then exchange a glance with Beau. She’d smile at him before turning back again to reply to his dad. He finished his meal, contemplating what his dad had said.

  “I need to run to town. Some of those decorations are falling apart with age.” Shelby placed her hand on the table in front of Beau. “Did you hear me?”

  Beau blinked. “I’m sorry. Was lost in my thoughts. Say that one more time?”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I need to replace some of the decorations that you stored in the attic. I’d hate to use one, and it fall apart or hurt someone at the party. I need to go to town for that.”

  “Right now?’ He looked out the window and realized how late it had gotten. The trees around the house were casting long shadows.

  She shook her head, loose bits of hair floated around her face. “I have a meeting with Millie in the morning. I thought maybe of heading over to the thrift shop after that.”

  Beau leaned back in his chair and racked his brain for who Millie was. “That’s the girl from the diner?”

  Shelby finished her sip and nodded. “The diner owner’s daughter, actually. She’s been catering small affairs and jumped at the chance to cater this one.”

  “Sounds good.” Beau looked in his cup and sighed. He’d drunk all the coffee. “Will you need a ride then?”

  “No, I’ll head into town before coming here.” She piled the dishes and took them to the sink. “What I do need help with is bringing a ton of boxes down from the attic. And since I have both your undivided attentions…” She spread her hands wide and gave them both a crocodile grin.

  “Looks like our day isn’t over yet,” chuckled Beau. He clapped his dad on the shoulder. “Come on, old man. I bet you can’t make it up and down those steps more than three times.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take that bet.” He pushed away from the table and nodded to Shelby. “You got to make me an apple pie if I lose.”

  “Uh, okay.” Shelby’s giggle pierced right through Beau’s heart. “And what happens if you win?”

  “I get braggin’ rights. Win-win either way.” He winked at her and strode out of the room. Shelby stared after him for a moment before tipping her head back and laughing.

  “Your dad.” She shook her head, a bemused smile wreathing her face. “He’s utterly charming when he’s not totally frustrating.”

  “Yeah, that sums him up.” Beau pushed away from the table and took a small step to block her from leaving the kitchen. He slid his arms around her waist. “So, what do I get if I win the bet?”

  She smoothed the collar of his sweatshirt and then rested her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I could make you cookies.”

  “Cookies, huh?” She didn’t say anything, just nodded once. “I was thinking more along the lines of this.” He leaned down and kissed her softly.

  “These boxes aren’t going to move themselves!” Dad’s voice reverberated through the house.

  Beau leaned his forehead on Shelby’s and growled. “He has horrible timing.”

  “Actually, I think he has pretty good timing,” giggled Shelby, her eyes twinkling. “But we do need to go help him. I’d hate for you to lose the bet.”

  Beau shook his head. He didn’t care about the bet with his dad. He wanted to kiss her one more time. So, he did.

  “Okay, now we can go back to work,” whispered Beau into Sh
elby’s ear afterward. She looked as dazed as he felt as she left the kitchen. He chuckled to himself as he headed down the hall after her. Losing the bet was totally worth it.

  “Thanks, Millie, for meeting with me today.” Shelby set the printed menu down next to the tray full of half-eaten samples. “Everything tastes great. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You can thank Elizabeth for that.” She handed Shelby the invoice. “If she hadn’t hired me months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to fit your party into my schedule.”

  Shelby didn’t let the smile on her face slip, but it was a close thing. “You’re right. I’ll make sure to thank her once I meet her.” She put the invoice in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “If there’s anything you need, please let me know. I’ll try to make it happen for you.”

  Millie bobbed her head once before smoothly lifting the tray onto her shoulder. She pivoted on her heel and headed into the kitchen without a backward glance. Shelby pressed her lips together. Millie’s rudeness could’ve been chalked up to a lot of things, least of which was just being young. Shelby was certain it had a source. Namely Dana Pavey.

  Millie’s open hostility was not the only instance this morning of rude behavior. The trip to the thrift shop had been a nightmare. The insular townsfolk had never been friendly but now they were downright hostile. She was going to have to do something about it. If that meant confronting Dana about what she’d done, then so be it.

  Shelby’s drive to the motel was much shorter than her walk in the rain weeks ago. She really hoped that the car wouldn’t give her trouble this time, though. Nothing like ruining a great exit with a vehicle that refuses to cooperate. Sam lifted his head and did a double take when Shelby waved at him. He sidled out of sight making Shelby snort. Probably forewarning Dana.

  She slammed the car door shut and strode into the reception area. Sam was nowhere to be seen. That didn’t bother Shelby. What bothered her were the paintings missing from the walls. Checking Sam’s small office revealed nothing.

  “Hey, now, you can’t be in there,” trembled Sam. “I’ll have to call the sheriff on you Shelby. Don’t make me do it.”

  Shelby u-turned to face Sam. She planted her fists on her hips and leaned forward. “Don’t you dare, Sam Pavey. I am so mad right now at Dana I could spit. And you!”

  “Me?” Sam squeaked like a mouse. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing, that’s what.” She took a step forward, forcing him to take one back. “Do you know what Dana did? No? She stole my paintings, that’s what. And then she had the gall to pass them off as her own.”

  Sam shook his head. “She’d never do that, Shelby. She’s too gentle a soul to contemplate stealing.”

  “Sometimes, Sam, I envy the fantasy world you live in. Your wife stole those paintings and put them up in Verity d’Neal’s gallery under her own name. And that is stealing.”

  Sam’s face scrunched up, and he fell into the chair behind him. For a moment, Shelby thought he’d had a heart attack but no. Just overwhelmed.

  She softened her tone a bit. “Sam, all I want are my paintings and an apology. At the very least, I’ll settle for the paintings.” She took the chair next to his and turned to him. “You know that I helped the motel by lending you and Dana those paintings. Your ratings on Yelp went up after I spruced up the rooms a bit. I helped you, didn’t I?”

  Sam pulled a red handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead with it. “I know you did, Shelby. And I’m sorry about all of it. But those paintings. There’s nothing I can do.” He closed his eyes, and whispered, “I think you need to go.”

  “Fine then.” Shelby pushed herself off the uncomfortable armchair. “I’ll go find her myself and take them back. With or without your help.”

  She strode through the building and headed toward the last set of rooms, where Dana and Sam lived. She pounded on the door, calling for Dana to come out. Shelby felt like a bowstring, any more pressure and she’d snap. Her phone rang while she was debating whether to go room by room looking for her.

  “Shelby? Hi, this is Jessica, the secretary at High Sierra Baptist. How are you today?”

  Shelby pinched the bridge of her nose. “Jessica, this isn’t a particularly good time.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment leaked through the connection. “It’s just that you signed up to help decorate the church for the holidays and we started an hour ago.”

  She vaguely remembered signing up weeks ago and even looking forward to the event. Her shoulder’s slumped in defeat as all the anger leaked out of her. She’d have to find Dana later.

  “I’m sorry. Seems like I lost track of time.”

  “That’s all right.” Jessica wielded her perkiness with all the expert ability of a master manipulator. “Everyone’s in the sanctuary. Feel free to bring something to share for a snack.”

  “Sure, be there in a few.” She stopped by the front desk, but the door was locked and a “Back in Ten Minutes” sign hung off its knob. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the window. Everything was dark.

  “I’ll be back, Dana. I know you can hear me. You better have all my paintings when I do.” Of course, Shelby had no idea what she’d do if Dana didn’t, but the other woman didn’t need to know that. She strode to the car and slammed the door shut.

  “Okay car let’s do this exit right.” She turned the key and revved the engine. Then in one fluid movement, flipped a U-turn and peeled out of the parking lot.

  Beau stopped outside the bank to put his hat on and button his jacket. Despite the bright sunlight, the chill in the air kept the snow from melting. They’d need more of it if they were going to make any money in the new year. The bank was willing to loan him money, but Beau did not want to go that route unless absolutely necessary.

  He waited for the stoplight to turn so he could cross the street and get back to his truck. The city was alive with the hustle and bustle of the small town getting ready for Christmas.

  “Hey there, Beau,” called Arthur, bundled up in a camel-colored coat and a fur hat with ear flaps. He tugged on one side. “Like it? Found it on E-bay from a guy in Russia. I’m sure I can get you one for a discount if you like.”

  “That’s kind of you, Arthur.” Beau tapped the edge of his cowboy hat. “But I like the one I have just fine.”

  “Of course.” Arthur bounced on his toes. “Did your friend enjoy the paints?”

  Beau chuckled, thinking back on it. “Yes. They were well received.”

  Arthur’s eyes twinkled. “I’m glad Shelby enjoyed them. Have her stop by sometime.

  “I’ll do that.”

  “I have to get back. Arthur nodded down the street. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  “Same to you.” Beau chuckled as Arthur strolled away, singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs.

  The light finally turned, and Beau strode across the intersection. The street was so busy that he’d had to park closer to the hardware store than the bank. The truck came into view just as he came to the small antique store that Shelby like to visit. On a whim, he entered the shop.

  It was decorated for the holidays with every conceivable Christmas decoration for the past one hundred years stuffed onto every available surface. He didn’t know where to rest his eyes first. A small meow came up from his feet. A black cat with green eyes twined around his ankles. He bent down and petted her head. She sauntered away, her hips swaying with each step.

  “Yeah, I’ve never seen a cat with bony hips before either.” Rose Martinez, a short, round woman wearing equally round glasses, pushed through the beaded curtain, marked as “Employees Only” that hung in the doorway instead of a door. “Beau Wright. As I live and breathe. Haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “Hey there, Rose. Thought I’d stop in and see what you’ve been doing with the place.”

  “Well as you can see, not much has changed.” She admired the room. “Still filled to the brim with junk and treasures. C
are for a cup of tea?” She pushed past him and followed the cat deeper into the shop.

  “No, thanks.” Beau followed her and found himself in front of a huge pine tree, covered in ornaments that shone like jewels. “That is amazing. Did you do all this yourself?”

  “No, actually.” She glanced over at the tree before pouring the tea from her thermos into a mug. “Young Shelby Matthews came in one day to browse and ended up staying to help. I’d hire her, but I hear she’s working for you.”

  “She does work for me. For now, anyway.” Beau tapped a round ornament, glittering with small mirrors and paste jewels. “Once the holiday is over, she’ll be looking for a new job. Maybe she can work here.”

  “Maybe.” She tilted her head to the side, the bun on the top of her head leaning precariously to the side. “Sounds like you don’t want her to go.”

  “Just want her to land on her feet is all.” Beau tried to stem the tide of panic that threatened to swamp him. He didn’t want her to go at all. Focus on something else, Wright. “Uh, is there anything in here that she was particularly interested in? I remember her saying something about a glass ornament.”

  “Yes.” Rose set her mug down and came around the counter. “She was fascinated by this lovely glass ornament I had on display. Found it at an estate sale in a box of odds and ends.” She pushed the branches around with a careful hand and shooed the cat away with a foot. “Ah, here it is.” She pulled the round glass ball from the back of the tree and handed it to Beau. “I wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present—you know as a way to say thank you for helping me with the tree.”

  Beau rolled the ball in his hand and wondered at it. The glass ball was solid and held in its depths a patch of perfect violets, also made of glass. “It’s amazing. I can see why she liked it.”

  He held it out to her, but Rose shook her head. “You give it to her. I think you have a larger claim on her heart than this small shop does.”

  Warmth spread across the back of his neck. “Would you wrap it for me?”

  Rose’s deep laugh was a counterpoint to the tinkling of the ornaments as the cat made her way beneath the lowest branches. “I will. But only if you shoo my cat away from there.”