by Lisa Carter
“No need to feel sorry for Charlie.” Evy grabbed her coat draped across the island stool. “I made him an extra batch. Which he’ll discover when he starts roaming the kitchen looking for a snack.”
She gave Evy full kudos for managing to keep her youngest, headstrong brother in check. Had to be love. Anna refused to give in to the sigh she was feeling about her own prospects for love.
Instead, she shifted her attention to the sound of the television in the family room. “Thanks for encouraging Charlie to invite Ryan to watch a game while we’re at the party.”
She shrugged into her coat. Decorating the tree last night, Ryan had been in a strange mood. She reached for the box on the counter.
“I’ll get this.” Evy hefted the box in her arms. “After our book club holiday social, Charlie needs some male bonding time.”
Anna rolled her tongue inside her cheek. “What book was it this quarter?”
Her burly brother—football star and tough law enforcement officer—attending a weekly book club with a bunch of women boggled her mind.
“Anna Karenina.”
Deputy Sheriff Charlie Pruitt—classic Russian literature reader? Love certainly did make the world go round.
“Bye, Charlie,” Evy called.
A grunt from the living room.
“Men,” Evy huffed, but a smile played about her lips.
Anna held the door. “Mom and I were outnumbered five to two. You have no idea how long we’ve waited for another female to balance the numbers.” She studied Evy’s Mini Cooper.
Evy settled the box in the back seat. “What’s wrong?”
“Just wondering if I’ll fit.”
Evy wrenched open the driver door. “You and your baby bump are gorgeous.”
Anna shoehorned herself into the passenger seat. “You’re the one who’s going to have to pry me out with a crowbar.”
Evy helped Anna click the seat belt in place. “See? Not too big. Not too small. Just right.”
“Thank you, Goldilocks.” Anna gazed at her blonde sister-in-law with affection. “It’s a snug fit.”
Evy negotiated the village square, which emptied north on Seaside Road. As the isolated farmhouses and woodland on each side of the road flew past, Anna adjusted the seat belt over her stomach. Soon Evy turned onto the oyster-shelled drive of the inn.
And Anna got her first look at the longtime Duer family home, refurbished after a devastating hurricane a few years ago.
The wraparound porch of the three-story Victorian twinkled with strands of white lights. From inside, an enormous Christmas tree glowed. Evy parked among the other vehicles.
“Looks like the whole town is here.”
“The female population leastways.” Evy slid out. “Honey loves entertaining. The more, the merrier.”
Anna did her best to extricate herself from the Mini Cooper. Graceful at eight months pregnant, she was not. Evy’s brother, Sawyer, met them on the porch steps.
“Going somewhere, big brother?”
Sawyer took the box from Evy. They’d been separated by the foster system as children and had only reunited a year ago. “I’m getting out while the getting is good. After I put this box of yours in the dining room.”
Inside the inn, they were immediately surrounded by Kiptohanock merrymakers. The broad-shouldered ex-Coastie disappeared in the direction of the dining room. Honey—the Eastern Shore’s own Martha Stewart—had outfitted the inn with a beach chic decor. Whitened beach driftwood and sea glass sculptures bedecked side tables.
With Evy enveloped by Margaret Davenport, Anna found herself admiring the blue spruce in the bay window.
“A Savage Farm tree.” Honey joined her. “Merry Christmas, Anna.”
She hugged Honey.
“Look at you.” Honey touched a light hand to Anna’s bump. “So radiant.”
“As you must’ve been last year, pregnant with baby Daisy.”
Honey squeezed Anna’s hand. “I was a hot mess of swelled ankles and aching back. But Sawyer and I wouldn’t trade one minute with Daisy.” She made a wry grimace. “Once we got past the six months of no sleep.”
Not for the first time, Anna wondered how she’d manage to teach full-time and parent a newborn alone. Lots of women did it, though. She’d do what she had to do.
“Speaking of sweethearts—baby and cowboy...” Honey’s eyes flitted toward Sawyer, holding their daughter in his arms. Just turned one, Daisy had blond hair very like her Aunt Evy’s.
Father and daughter didn’t make it far. Every woman from seventeen-year-old Jade Collier to ninety-year-old Mrs. Evans appeared duty bound to greet the baby. Good-natured, Sawyer grinned and adjusted the bulging diaper bag over his shoulder.
“Where’re they off to?”
Honey smiled. “To watch the game with Charlie and the other spouses of the women here at the inn.”
“Not so much fun for Daisy.”
Honey waved as Daisy blew her a kiss. “Amelia’s preschooler Patrick will be there. Besides, Daisy will enjoy wrapping the guys around her little finger.”
Anna bit the inside of her cheek.
Honey’s brown eyes sparkled. “Apples don’t fall far from trees.” She nudged Anna. “And Daisy’s Uncle Charlie is the biggest marshmallow of all.”
Anna laughed. “He and Evy are going to be wonderful parents someday.”
Honey smiled. “I’m so happy your daughter will grow up here with her cousin Daisy.”
Cousins. In the endearing, quirky and totally Southern way of counting kinfolk. Even those only related by marriage. And for the moment, Anna forgot to feel so alone.
Her throat tightened, imagining future Christmases with the Pruitt clan. Thanksgiving and Easter. Fourth of July parades. Her church family.
Picnics on the barrier island beaches in summer, hunting for sea glass. A dark-haired little girl with rosebud lips, herself and the laughing, blue-green eyes of—
Her heart stutter-stepped. What was she doing? None of that was meant to be. Ryan had another life waiting for him. A life without her or Ruby. It was better for everyone this way.
Wasn’t it?
Honey moved to the center of the room. “Ladies? Your attention, please?”
The buzz of conversation diminished. Honey welcomed them to the cookie swap and laid out the party rules. “I hope everyone remembered to bring an empty container.”
Standing beside the hand-carved mantel topped with toy sailboats, Evy gave Anna a thumbs-up.
Honey continued with the instructions. “First, choose only a dozen. We’ll go around again until the cookies are gone.” She smoothed her green Christmas blouse. “I don’t want any cookies left here.”
Anna promised herself next year... Next year she’d have a baby and her slim figure again. She sighed. At least she’d have the baby.
In shades of shimmering turquoise and silver, the dining room was decorated as amazingly as the rest of the inn. Container in hand, Anna followed the ladies around the table.
The polvorones were nearly gone. Across the table, Justine smiled as Anna selected a Christmas wreath cookie from the Savage family kitchen. Anna also took an iced lighthouse cookie, created by Caroline Duer Clark.
“I had lots of artistic assistance.” Caroline smiled fondly in the direction of her stepdaughter. But her expression turned wistful.
Though it was obvious Caroline adored Izzie, Anna knew firsthand how hard it was year after year to behold others’ joy and yet have empty arms aching for a baby of your own. With a history of chronic depression, Caroline didn’t want to risk passing on the genetic predisposition to a child.
Sandpiper Cafe waitress Dixie’s contribution consisted of gingerbread starfish, dusted with cinnamon and begging to be devoured. But Honey had promised
real food once the cookies were cleared off the table.
Evy took both their cookie-filled containers out to the car so Anna could have her hands free to munch. Honey insisted Anna take the comfy, butter-yellow armchair near the blazing hearth.
Anna no sooner settled into the cushion than the rest of the ladies trooped into the living room. Laden with pastel pink packages, to her astonishment, they placed the gifts beside her chair.
Evy threw out her hands. “Surprise!”
Anna’s mouth dropped open. “What’s this?”
“You wouldn’t let us schedule a baby shower for you at church.” Darcy Parks whipped out a notepad and pen. “So we planned one during the cookie exchange at Honey’s house.”
“But you didn’t have to...” She tried to get up, but with plate in hand she couldn’t rise to her feet.
Taking Anna’s plate, Margaret moved in front of the tree. “Ladies? Positions, please.”
“But...”
Margaret patted Anna’s shoulder. “Enjoy yourself, dear. And let your friends love on you and your baby.”
Darcy and Evy ensconced themselves on either side of Anna. Evy handed Anna a package to unwrap while Darcy jotted the name of the giver and a description of the present. Jade Collier carried the gifts to display on a nearby Queen Anne table.
Starting on the pile of presents, Anna folded back tissue paper to reveal the beautiful baby gifts. Warm baby mittens and a ribbon-trimmed cap from Pauline Crockett. Next, an exquisite hand-smocked red velvet dress from Darcy’s mom, Agnes.
“If she’s anything like her mother, Ruby will be beautiful in red.” Agnes smiled.
Then, several children’s storybooks from Charlie and Evy. “I hope Ruby will visit often, and we can read a book together in the reading nook.” Evy’s eyes glistened. “Charlie claims I married him for that fabulous nook.”
Everyone laughed.
The final gift was from old Mrs. Evans. The rectangular-shaped box lay heavy in Anna’s lap. An unusual silence reigned as she removed the last of the packaging. She glanced at the sea of expectant faces. It wasn’t like the chatty women to fall quiet.
“Go ahead.” Kristina motioned. “See what you’ve got.”
Anna lifted the lid. Inside lay a pair of tiny pink booties and matching crocheted sweater atop a lovely receiving blanket.
“Oh, Mrs. Evans...” Her throat clogged as she brushed the soft material against her cheek. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”
The old woman’s gnarled hand rested upon the crook of a cane.
Anna examined the perfect stitches. “How were you ever able to make this?”
Mrs. Evans’s fingers had become misshapen through decades of hard work and the arthritis of old age. But her blue eyes—like a pair of faded denim jeans—sparkled with life.
“I make a set for every baby.” The elderly woman’s gaze brushed the faces around the crowded room. “And I intend to go on doing so until the good Lord sees fit to take me home.”
Anna—with Evy and Darcy’s assistance—lumbered to her feet. She planted a kiss on the old woman’s papery thin cheek. “Thank you, Mrs. Evans.”
Her eyes blurred as she contemplated old friends like the Duer sisters and new friends like Kristina Collier. “Thank you all. I never expected—” Her voice hitched.
She’d never expected any of this. She’d done the right thing in coming home to raise her baby. And every time she wrapped her child against the cold, she’d also wrap herself in the memory of this day, these women and their love against the backdrop of an Eastern Shore Christmas.
Batting moisture from her eyes, Margaret cleared her throat. “Mark your calendars for the annual Living Nativity. Featuring our own mother-to-be, Anna, as the mother of Jesus...”
Evy smiled at Anna.
“...and Ryan Savage as the humble carpenter God chose to be the earthly father of His Son.” Margaret’s eyebrow arched. “It promises to be an event none of you will want to miss.”
Margaret made it sound as if she and Ryan were a real couple. But what if they were? Anna’s heart beat a trifle faster. What if they were?
The party dispersed as the women gathered their belongings. While Darcy and Evy boxed the gifts for transport, Anna donned her coat, feeling superfluous. No one would allow her to clean up.
Dixie waylaid her on the porch. “See you soon, little sugar.” She kissed her own fingers and pressed them against Anna’s abdomen.
Evy’s heeled boots clattered across the wide-planked veranda. “All aboard!”
Dixie draped an arm around Anna’s shoulders. “I know your mama wishes she could’ve been here for the baby shower. So I took lots of photos with my phone.”
Anna’s heart clanged like a fire alarm inside her chest.
Dixie gave Anna a hug. “And as your mama’s best friend, I emailed the pictures right away to her in Germany.”
Anna went still. For a second, she actually believed she might faint.
“How considerate of you, Dixie.” Evy pulled Anna toward the steps. “But Anna has had enough excitement for one day.”
Dixie waved. “Y’all have a great evening.”
Panic bubbled inside Anna as Evy guided her down the steps.
“Bye now!” called Dixie.
Anna clutched her sister-in-law’s arm. “Evy...”
“Bye, Dixie!” Evy hustled Anna across the path. “Hang on...” She tucked Anna into the car. Clutching the dashboard, Anna couldn’t catch her breath.
Evy wheeled onto Seaside Road. “Are you going to be sick?”
“I...think...I’m...hyper—venti—lating.”
“Do I need to stop?” Evy’s gaze ping-ponged from the road to Anna. “Should I roll down the window?”
Anna placed her hand on her throat.
Evy frowned. “I’d tell you to put your head between your knees, but that’s probably an anatomical impossibility for you right now.”
Anna stopped hyperventilating and stared at the petite blonde, white-knuckling the steering wheel. “If I wasn’t so panicked, I’d laugh.”
Evy’s shoulders eased a fraction. “If it’s any consolation, Dixie meant well. She had no idea you haven’t told your parents.”
Anna rested her head against the seat. “I should’ve known better than to keep this news from them.”
“It will be okay.”
“No, it won’t.” Anna stared out the window. “When Mom sees those photos, she’s going to have a conniption. Her only daughter, pregnant and unmarried. I can only imagine what she’ll think.”
“Let’s talk to Charlie. He’ll know what to do.”
When they reached the Pruitt Victorian, Anna was relieved to see only Ryan’s car parked beside the curb.
Inside, Charlie proved less than encouraging. “I knew this would happen.” His lantern jaw tightened. “This is Kiptohanock after all.”
Evy sighed. “You flush a toilet at one end...”
“...and the other end soon knows.” Anna shook her head. “But what now?”
Ryan pushed his glasses farther along the bridge of his nose. “When all else fails, how about the truth?”
She glared at him. “Not helpful.”
Charlie folded his arms. “He’s right. Will and I told you from the beginning this wasn’t a secret you could or should expect to keep. Why haven’t you told them?”
She wrung her hands. “I just couldn’t. They’re so busy helping Jaxon get through the holidays. If I’d told them about the baby, they’d have been on the first plane home.”
Charlie clenched his teeth. “Mom is going to be mortified that she’s the last to know. Dad will be livid.”
“What’s worse is how hurt they’ll be.” Anna blinked away tears. “They’ll feel betrayed that I di
dn’t include them in this decision.”
Ryan tilted his head. “So why didn’t you?”
She trembled. “They’d already sacrificed so much for me. They took early retirement and practically lived in Texas with me during Mateo’s last year. They wouldn’t have understood why I felt I had to have this baby.” She placed her hand over her stomach.
Charlie exhaled. “You can expect a phone call ASAP.” He grimaced. “Me, too. Demanding to know why they had to hear about a new grandchild from Dixie. I better warn Will. He’ll have a call waiting for him when he gets off shift.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve made a mess of everything.”
Evy hugged her. “I’ll be praying for you. And for your conversation with your mom.”
Anna gulped. “A conversation long overdue.”
Charlie nodded. “But don’t sell our parents short. I think they’ll understand. Eventually.”
She slumped against the chair railing.
Ryan stepped forward. “I’ll run Anna home.” He opened the door. “Can you help me transfer the gifts from Evy’s car, Charlie?”
“You knew?” Anna jutted her hip. “Did everyone in Kiptohanock know about the surprise baby shower but me?”
Charlie rolled his eyes as he shouldered his way outside. “Toilets flushing, big sister. Toilets flushing.”
Chapter Thirteen
Sunday afternoon, her parents still hadn’t called. Anna alternated between fear and relief. Relieved to put off the inevitable confrontation, fear of how upset her parents must be.
When Ryan stopped by, he brought with him a breath of fresh air. And a distraction. In more ways than one.
Her cheeks heated. But that didn’t stop her from taking a quick look as he leaned casually against the doorframe.
The blue-gray scarf brought out the sea green in his eyes behind the frames. His denim shirt hung out of his jeans. And his boy-next-door smile made her knees wobble.
Whereas she resembled a big, fat slug. Waiting for a phone call she’d as soon avoid. Like a condemned prisoner waiting to be called out to the firing squad.
He cocked his head. “You’re obsessing, aren’t you?”