“If he was driving with more than the legal limit of alcohol in his blood,” Jesse said quietly, “he’s going to spend Christmas in the county jail. Have you got a reading?”
The attendant gave Jesse a number that made him swear again and handed him the man’s driver’s license. After checking the identification, he bent over and looked down into the party boy’s face. “Hey, buddy,” he began jovially, “I want to wish you a Merry Christmas on behalf of the Pearl River County sheriff’s department. I’m here to offer you our hospitality, since as soon as they’re done with you over at the emergency room, we’ll be coming by to pick you up. You have the right to remain silent, Mr. Callahan. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”
“You don’t understand, Sheriff,” Mr. Callahan whined, when Jesse had finished reading him his rights. “I only had a couple of eggnogs. Damn it, it’s Christmas!”
“Ho, ho, ho,” Jesse replied. And then he turned his attention to the shaken family huddled in the small, dented car on the side of the road.
He walked over, smiled and bent to look through the window as the driver rolled down the glass and said, “Hello, Officer.”
Jesse saw two kids with freckles and pigtails sitting in the backseat, clutching their dolls and looking scared, and silently thanked the benevolent fates for sparing them. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “Is everybody sure they’re okay?”
The driver, a man about Jesse’s age, sighed. “We’re fine,” he said. “Just a little shaken up, that’s all.”
“How about the car? Does it run?”
The Christmas traveler shook his head. “The ambulance people radioed for a wrecker,” he said. “But there probably won’t be room in the cab for all four of us, and it’s getting pretty cold in here.”
Jesse nodded and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “I’ll drive you into town,” he said. “But before we go, I need you to tell me exactly what happened here. Is somebody expecting you in Pearl River?”
The woman leaned forward and smiled wanly, and Jesse watched her for signs of shock. “My grandmother, Alice Northrup. She’s probably been watching the road ever since noon.”
Jesse didn’t remember the woman in the car, but he knew right where to find her grandmother. Miss Alice was a little old blue-haired lady who was always hearing prowlers in her backyard. He grinned and opened the door so the little girls in back could get out. “I’ll radio the office and have them get in touch with her,” he said.
The children looked up at him with serious faces. “Are we arrested?” one of them asked.
The young parents laughed affectionately, but Jesse squatted down to look straight into the child’s eyes. “No, ma’am,” he said. “If I were to do a thing like that, Santa Claus would be real put out. And he’s one man I don’t like to cross.”
“We’ve got presents in the trunk,” said the other little girl.
Jesse settled the woman and the two kids and the presents in the patrol car, with the heater going full blast, then radioed the office. Deputy Johnson promised to let Mrs. Northrup know that her loved ones were safe and would be arriving soon.
While the three females sang Christmas carols, Jesse and the husband went over the accident scene. Soon, Jesse’s report was complete, and he drove the family to Grandma’s house.
He felt a little envious, watching the old woman run out to greet them. That was what Christmas was all about, he thought to himself, and wondered why he couldn’t get things right in his own life.
Stopping by the office, he left the report to be typed by Deputy Johnson, who’d drawn duty that night, took a package from the top drawer of his desk, and went back to his car.
The lights of a huge tree were visible through the big front window of the nursing home when Jesse arrived, and he heard the voices of carolers from one of the churches as he came up the walk. The residents, male and female alike, were gathered around the main room, singing, their faces splashed with color.
Jesse smiled and greeted a few of the patients as he worked his way through the room toward the hallway. He’d known without looking that his grandfather wouldn’t be among the merrymakers; Seth had never cared much about Christmas.
Reaching the door of the judge’s room, Jesse paused and knocked.
“Come in,” grumbled a familiar voice.
Jesse went in grinning. “Well,” he said, going to stand beside his grandfather’s bed, “if it isn’t Scrooge himself. Merry Christmas, Gramps.”
“Humph!” said Gramps, but he reached out for the present Jesse had brought. “Probably slippers. Or another box of chocolates.”
“Wrong,” Jesse replied easily, dropping into a chair. He wanted to be home with Liza and Ilene—how he wished Glory would be there, too—but he loved this old coot, for all his cantankerous ways.
The judge ripped open the paper to reveal a kit for building a ship in a bottle. Despite his effort to appear singularly unimpressed, he opened the instructions with fumbling, awkward fingers and peered at them. “Get me my glasses!” he snapped.
Jesse chuckled and took the familiar leather case out of the drawer beside Seth’s bed, handing him the bifocals. “I figure it’ll take you till next Christmas to put the thing together,” he teased. “Then you can just wrap it up and give it back to me.”
Seth laughed, in spite of himself. “The hell I will,” he said. “Don’t you have anything better to do on Christmas Eve besides pick on an old man?”
Sadness touched Jesse’s spirit as he thought of Glory again. “I can hang around for a while,” he told his grandfather quietly.
“That woman still in town?”
Jesse felt his hackles rise, but he reminded himself that it was Christmas, that Liza and Ilene were waiting for him at the mansion, and that Alice Northrup’s family had made it home, safe and sound, to hang up their stockings. Maybe that was all he could ask of the holiday. “You mean Glory?” he asked.
Seth nodded.
“She’s leaving soon,” Jesse said, and the words left him feeling raw and hollow inside.
“I paid her off, you know.”
“Yes, Gramps.” Jesse sighed. “I know.”
“Told her I’d send that brother of hers straight to jail if she didn’t leave you alone,” the judge reflected proudly.
Jesse sat bolt upright in his chair, feeling as though somebody had just goosed him with a cattle prod. “What?” he rasped. “You involved Dylan in this?”
The judge chuckled, obviously reveling in his own cleverness. “He was a troublemaker. It would have been easy to have him sent up.”
Standing now, Jesse gripped the lapels of the old man’s bathrobe. He didn’t want to scare him, just get his undivided attention. “You told Glory if she didn’t leave, you were going to frame Dylan?”
Seth nodded, his beetle eyebrows rising a notch. He looked somewhat less amused. “I wanted to protect you, Jesse. And she wasn’t going to take the money. I had to do something—”
“Fool,” Jesse rasped, turning away, and he wasn’t talking to the judge. He was talking to himself. “You damn fool!”
“Now, Jesse, I—”
It was too late for the old man; he’d probably go to his grave believing he’d done the right thing. But Jesse still had time to undo some of his mistakes, and he didn’t want to waste a minute.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, excited as a kid, giving Seth a quick, affectionate slap on the back. “I’ll come out tomorrow and make sure you eat all your turkey and stuffing. But right now, I’ve got to go!”
“Hey, wait a—”
Jesse was gone before the sentence was completed, striding down the hall, joining a chorus of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” as he hurried through the main room and out into that cold, snowy Christmas Eve.
He went to Glory’s apartment first, breaking the speed limit all the way, but when he pulled up out front, her windows were dark. She was probably with Delphine, over at the diner.
Making a wide turn, Jesse bumped the tires over the sidewalk on the other side of the street and sped toward Delphine’s.
There were people jammed inside the diner—mostly folks who didn’t have anywhere to go—and carols were being sung at ear-splitting volume. Jesse waded through the crowd until he found Delphine, gripped her gently by one elbow, and hustled her into the kitchen.
“Where’s Glory?” he demanded.
Delphine glanced at her watch and frowned. “I don’t know. She should have been here by now. I’d better call.”
Jesse’s throat felt tight for a moment, then he managed to grind out, “I was just at her place. It was dark as a mole’s fruit cellar.”
Glory’s mother gave him an accusing look. “She’s been depressed lately,” she said pointedly. Then she marched over to the wall phone and punched out her daughter’s number. A long time passed before she hung up, her teeth sunk into her lower lip, her brows drawn together.
Before Jesse could say anything else, Jill appeared in the doorway. “I come bearing sad tidings,” she said dismally. “It’s bad news, bears.”
“What?” Jesse snapped.
Jill glared at him. “Don’t you get smart with me, Jesse Bainbridge. As far as I’m concerned, this whole thing is your fault!”
“Jill, please,” Delphine pleaded, her voice small, and Jill put an arm around her.
“When I came home from doing some last-minute shopping just a few minutes ago, there was a message from Glory on my answering machine. She said she hoped everybody would understand, but she had to leave Pearl River while she still had some of her soul left.” Jill paused to narrow her eyes at Jesse, holding Delphine tightly against her side. “She left for San Francisco tonight.”
Delphine looked as if she was going to cry, and Jesse hadn’t seen her do that since that night ten years before, when he’d come to her half-drunk and begged her to tell him where Glory was. “Without saying goodbye to Harold and me?” she whispered disbelievingly.
“I’m sure she means to call you later tonight,” Jill said comfortingly.
“I guess Glory isn’t very good at saying goodbye to anybody,” Jesse muttered, and then he left the diner by the back way, unable to face any more holiday cheer.
As he slipped behind the wheel of the patrol car, soft, fat flakes of snow began to fall.
“You’re not getting away with it this time, Glory,” he whispered, reaching for his radio mike. He contacted the office, and got the long-suffering Deputy Johnson. “Call my place, will you, and ask Ilene if Glory’s been by.”
“Roger,” replied the deputy.
A few minutes later, as Jesse was cruising the main street of town, the answer came. Glory had stopped by the bookstore briefly, just about closing time. She’d said goodbye to Liza and left.
Swearing, Jesse pulled over to the side of the road and pulled out his phone. Three long rings later, Ilene answered his telephone at home.
“Bainbridge residence. This is Ilene.”
“How is Liza?” Jesse blurted, rubbing his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of one hand.
Ilene sighed. “She’s doing okay for somebody who’s lost two mothers and one father.”
“What the hell did Glory say to her?”
“She said she loved her,” Ilene answered somewhat acidly. “Terrible woman.”
“Damn it, Ilene, I don’t need this right now. I just found out that Gramps forced her into leaving town ten years ago by threatening to throw her brother in jail. I’ve got to find her.”
“Are you thinking what I hope you’re thinking?”
“If—when I find Glory, I’m going to admit I’m an idiot and beg her forgiveness. And then I’ll propose, and if she says yes, we’ll go drag Judge Jordal away from home and hearth to issue us a special license and perform the marriage ceremony.”
“That would be one jim-dandy Christmas miracle if you could pull it off,” Ilene said eagerly. “Good luck, Jesse.”
“Thanks,” Jesse said, and even though he was grinning like a fool, his voice came out sounding hoarse.
*
The cemetery was well-lighted, and Glory wasn’t surprised to see other people visiting lost loved ones on Christmas Eve. It was the most difficult time of year for the bereaved.
She dusted the snow off Dylan’s headstone and then put the little potted tree in front of it. “Merry Christmas,” she said, putting one hand to her throat and sniffling once. She squatted down beside the grave and rested one hand against the cold marble stone.
“I know, I know,” she said. “I’ve got to quit hanging around here this way. But you must remember how I was always tagging after you.” Glory took a tissue from her coat pocket, dried her eyes and dabbed at her nose. She sighed, and a smile crept across her face. “Remember that Christmas when we hid flashlights under our mattresses and practically synchronized our watches so we could peek at the presents after Mama put them out? You got a baseball glove, and I got one of those dolls that talked when you pulled the string.”
Suddenly Glory began to cry. Hard. She put her hands over her eyes and sobbed.
“There now, miss,” said a kindly voice, and strong fingers closed around Glory’s shoulders and lifted her to her feet. “I like to think them that went before are having Christmas tonight, too, somewhere.”
Stunned, Glory lowered her hands to stare into a gentle, weathered old face. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Clyde Ballard,” the elderly gentleman said, touching the brim of his snow-dusted fedora. “My wife, Sylvia, is buried out here, and I like to come by of a Christmas Eve and leave her a poinsettia plant. She always loved those pretty red blossoms, and she could make ’em bloom year after year, too. Used to fill our living room with the things.”
Glory dried her eyes with the back of one mitten, since she’d already exhausted her tissue supply, and squinted at the man. He didn’t look familiar. “You must miss her very much,” she said, a little ashamed of her outburst a few minutes before.
“Oh, I certainly do,” agreed Mr. Ballard, bending to read the words and dates on Dylan’s stone. “And you miss this young fellow, too. It’s a pity he died so early.”
Glory nodded. She was beginning to feel better. “He was killed in an explosion a couple of months after he joined the air force.”
“That’s real sad,” said Mr. Ballard sincerely. “But I know he wouldn’t want you here in the graveyard, crying your pretty eyes out, on Christmas Eve!”
Glory chuckled. “You’re right about that.”
“Of course I am,” the old man responded. “I’m on my way over to Delphine’s Diner for some pecan pie and eggnog. You ought to come along—there’s always room for one more when she throws a party.”
Nodding, Glory smiled. “I know,” she answered.
Mr. Ballard started to say something else, but just as he opened his mouth, Glory saw a patrol car pull up down by the gates, lights flashing. Her heart surged into her throat.
“Jesse,” she whispered.
Mr. Ballard gave a pleased cackle. “You wanted for some crime, young lady?” he teased.
“I’m an incorrigible jaywalker,” Glory confided, and Mr. Ballard laughed.
“I’d better run along before the pie’s all gone. You sure you don’t want to come along?”
Impulsively Glory kissed his cheek. “Maybe I’ll be by later,” she said. Her heartbeat was loud and fast now, pounding in her ears. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Ballard.”
“Merry Christmas to you, little lady,” he responded. He passed Jesse on his way down the hill and touched the brim of his hat in that same courtly manner as before.
Jesse didn’t even seem to see Mr. Ballard; he was looking up at Glory. Reaching her, he took her shoulders in his hands.
“I thought you left for the money,” he said gruffly. “But tonight Gramps told me he threatened to have Dylan framed for some crime if you stayed.”
“Or if I said so much as a word to you,”
Glory clarified, swallowing. “What are you doing here, Jesse?”
He grasped her hand and led her to a nearby bench. After dusting off some of the snow so she could sit, Jesse pressed her onto the bench and dropped to one knee in front of her. Snow and mud were probably seeping through his pant leg, but he didn’t seem to care. “Glory, I was wrong. I was stubborn and prideful, and you were right when you said I was only thinking of myself. Will you forgive me? Please?”
Glory blinked, uncertain that any of this was really happening. Maybe it was all an illusion. “Well—okay.”
Jesse gave a jubilant burst of laughter, rising to his feet and hauling Glory with him. He put his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly. “I love you,” he said when it was over.
She stared up at him. This was real, all right. No fantasy kiss had ever felt like that. “Well, I love you, too, but—”
He laid a finger to her lips. “But nothing. Will you marry me, Glory? Now—tonight?”
She kissed the tip of his finger and then reluctantly shook her head. “No, Jesse. We have too many things to work out. But I’ll marry you in the summer if you still want me.”
Jesse held her close, and it felt impossibly good. His lips moved against her temple. “But you won’t leave again—you’ll stay right here in Pearl River?”
Glory cupped her hands on either side of his face, feeling a new beard scratch against her palms. “I’ll stay, Jesse. I promise,” she said, and then she stood on tiptoe to kiss him.
Chapter 11
The lights of the Bainbridge mansion glowed golden through the snowy night, and as the patrol car reached the top of the driveway, the door burst open and a small silhouette appeared in the opening.
“Today Ilene told me to grow up,” Jesse confessed hoarsely, as he brought the car to a stop in front of the garage, “and I think I finally have. No matter what happens between us over the next six months, Glory, Liza is your child as much as mine, and I won’t ever try to keep you away from her again.”
Glory squeezed his hand and pushed open the car door. “Liza!” she called in a happy sob.
Glory, Glory: Snowbound with the Bodyguard Page 15