"Meat loaf?" He pulled out a mug and poured some coffee, added sugar and cream. "Lasagna? What's going on?"
1 'Ben called. Anna Remington went to the hospital with bleeding yesterday afternoon."
Thinking through the implications took him a minute. "She's not due, is she? Did she lose the baby?"
Peggy opened the oven and pulled out a chicken casserole. "No. But she's on complete bed rest until the baby's born. I thought I would make them some meals they could stick in the freezer. That way Cait won't have
to do all the cooking. She's taken over the Christmas pageant, so she'll be busy."
"Oh." Not a very sympathetic response, as Peggy's puzzled stare indicated. He gathered his thoughts. ■ 'I hope Anna will be all right, and the baby. I'm not worried about the Christmas program. Cait Gregory is a young woman who knows how to get what she wants."
"Evidently," Peggy said in a dry tone. "She's got Ben helping her with the pageant.''
Harry choked and sputtered coffee all over his robe. "Ben? Christmas?"
"That's what he said."
Before they married, Valerie had explained to her parents Ben's reasons for avoiding Christmas. She'd hoped, Harry knew, that their own family traditions and the children's love for the holiday would change her husband's perspective.
Then they'd lost her. These last two Christmases, Peggy had worked hard to give the grandkids a special time. And Ben had cooperated. Was the fact that he'd agreed to help with the pageant a sign that the change Valerie had hoped for was coming to pass?
Or just a tribute to Cait Gregory's good looks and talents of persuasion?
The latter, Harry guessed, helping himself to another mug of coffee. Ben wasn't blind, or deaf. Or a fool.
"You're not supposed to have cream in your coffee." Peggy was molding meat loaf into pans. "And you're only supposed to have one cup a morning."
He grunted, sipped his drink, and heard her sigh.
After a minute, she said, "What do you have planned for today? I can clear out the bathroom, if you want to start painting."
"I don't think so. Doesn't seem like the right time to start a project that big."
"Oh." She put the meat loaf pans in the oven. "Well, Ben and the children are coming for lunch. But we could drive into Washington late this afternoon, have a nice dinner in Georgetown, see a movie." On her way to the sink, she stopped beside him and laid a hand along his cheek. "We could spend the night," she whispered into his ear. "It's been a while since we've been away for even that long."
A movie, he could have managed. Dinner, okay—he would eat sometime, though he wasn't too hungry these days.
But a night in a hotel with Peggy... Harry shook his head. She would expect him to make love to her. He was a lucky man, to have a gorgeous wife who still wanted him. Many men his age would envy him.
And yet, the thought of sex left him cold. For the first time in thirty years of marriage, he just...didn't want to.
She was staring at him now, waiting for his answer, a confused frown in her eyes. Harry struggled for a reasonable excuse to offer.
"I—uh can't get away today. I've got a church property committee meeting, even if David's not there. I don't know how long it'll take."
"Oh." Peggy moved away to work on the dishes stacked in the sink. Her straight shoulders and back conveyed their own message. She wouldn't get mad. But she wasn't happy about being turned down, either.
Harry put his mug on the counter and started to leave the kitchen. Then he turned back and put his hand on Peggy's shoulder. "It was a nice idea," he said. "Someday soon we'll do just that."
"Of course. Someday." She didn't move, or even bend her head toward him when he kissed her temple.
Might be sleeping on the sofa tonight, he reflected as he went upstairs to dress for church. Sofa or bed, didn't matter. The way he felt, he wasn't much good to Peggy regardless of where he slept. Wasn't much good awake, either.
Picking up his hairbrush, Harry looked at the man in the mirror, the man with nowhere to go Monday morning, or any other day of the week. The man without a job.
He just plain wasn't much good anymore at all.
Cait met the Tremaine family outside the church building just before the service. Under the pale-blue sky, a bitter wind whipped the fallen leaves along the brick walk. Standing with Brenna and two other girls, Maddie wore the perfect little-girl outfit—a bright-blue wool coat with a black velvet collar and shiny black shoes over white tights.
Nearby, Shep chased through the grass and leaves with his friend Neil, one of the few children besides Maddie with whom he seemed to communicate. He looked like a typical six-year-old boy. And he was...except that he refused to speak.
Ben himself was almost too handsome this morning to be real. A starched white shirt deepened his tan, the blue of his eyes was echoed in a blue silk tie, and his gray suit had been tailored to make the most of those wide shoulders and long legs. It was a sight guaranteed to destroy a woman's ability to concentrate. Or even breathe easily.
He grinned as Cait approached him. "So have you started handing out assignments? Do folks know what they're getting into?"
She shook her head. "I'll make my calls after the service. They can have their morning to relax."
As she walked toward the church door, he fell in beside her. "How's Anna?"
"Doing pretty well, thank goodness. She convinced her doctor that she would stay in bed if he let her come home, so the ambulance will bring her back this afternoon."
"How about Dave? Is he here?"
"He stayed at the hospital all night, and I don't think he slept, but he got home about nine and he's planning to preach."
"The man drives himself too hard. As far as I know, he hasn't taken a vacation since he started at this church. Definitely not since we moved here." He looked back over his shoulder. "Shep, Maddie—time to go inside."
Maddie ran down the walk. "Can Brenna sit with us, Daddy? Can she?" She stopped pulling on his coat sleeve and smiled at Cait. "Hi, Miss Caitlyn. Have you figured out all the parts for the Christmas pageant yet? Brenna wants to be a shepherd. Right, Brenna?"
But Maddie's friend was too shy to express a preference, and simply shook her head, avoiding Cait's gaze.
"Can the two of you sit together and be quiet," Ben asked.
"I promise, Daddy. We won't make a sound."
"Okay. Shep! Come on, son."
Throwing a last handful of leaves at his friend, Shep ran toward them. Ben took a second to brush grass and twigs and pieces of leaves out of the boy's hair and off his sweater, with his son squirming and frowning during the process. Then he reached around Cait to grab the iron door handle on the heavy wooden door. The move put her inside the circle of his arm. She glanced up... Ben looked
down at her, and something passed between them that was real and warm.
Cait gave him a shaky smile and scooted into the church, down the aisle to the organ, where she was safe. With her back to the congregation—to him —she arranged her music and started the prelude, a Bach fugue which required all of her attention.
Music was the answer, she thought later, letting her mind drift away from David's sermon. Keep the career, the work in mind. That was the surest way to keep Ben Tremaine at a distance.
Anna wasn't allowed even to walk into her own house—the ambulance attendants carried her on a gurney to her bedroom, where Cait and David waited with the bed turned down.
Cait started to pull the covers up, then stopped. "Do you want a clean gown? Or a shower?" She looked anxious. "Are you allowed to take showers?"
Some other time, Anna might have laughed. But not today. "He said to give it a few days. Sponge baths until then. I had one at the hospital, so I'm fine." She held out her hand for the covers. "Just a little cold."
Cait tucked the blanket and sheet around her. "Something to eat? Our special is chicken soup—I bought some extra of the kind I took to Ben Tremaine and his kids yesterday. It was pretty good
."
"Not right now. I think I might take a nap." Which was a lie, of course, but it got Cait and David to leave the room and stop staring at her as if she would explode any second.
If she closed her eyes, the inevitable tears would start, so Anna stared at the wedding invitation in a silver frame that she kept on her bedside table. Three years ago, she'd
been the happiest bride the world had ever seen. David had been appointed to his post in the Goodwill church, they'd seen the really adorable century-old house they would get to live in, and she just knew that she'd have a baby to hold before a year had passed. Cait had always been the ambitious sister. Anna had only wanted to get married and have kids and keep house for the husband she loved.
But it took longer than a year to get pregnant, the first time. Much of a minister's work happened after other people had left their jobs—meetings with church committees, evening services, counseling. David worked hard during the days, too, writing sermons, visiting hospitals and people sick at home, just getting to know the members of his church.
So the year had been more stressful than either of them had anticipated, and they hadn't had much free time. Finally, though, on Valentine's Day of their second year together, she'd been able to tell him they were expecting.
A month later, she lost the baby.
Everyone was very kind, especially Peggy Shepherd, who'd lost several babies of her own before her daughter was born. Anna had depended a lot on the older woman. When she got pregnant again, she told Peggy before she let her father know.
She'd kept that baby four months. The doctor advised waiting at least six months before trying again. Meanwhile, David's responsibilities increased. Sex became an appointment scheduled for the time of the month she was ovulating, otherwise to be forgotten or put off.
Anna started to roll onto her back, then remembered she was supposed to stay on her left side to promote optimum blood flow to and from the baby. She might go crazy, lying on her left side for...how long?
Yesterday, when the bleeding started, her first reaction had been not fear, but relief. If the baby was born, the doctors would take care of him, be responsible for him, and Anna's life would go back to normal. David would look at her as a woman again, not an incubator with mechanical malfunctions. Sex could be something they did because they loved each other....
She must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes again, the room was dark.
"Anna?" Cait stuck her head through the partially opened door. "You awake?"
"Mmm." Again, she started to roll over and stopped herself. "Come in."
Cait opened the door all the way and stepped into the room. She turned on a small lamp in the far corner. ' 'How are you feeling?''
Anna bit back the urge to growl. "Next question."
"Okay." She sat in the rocking chair they'd asked Ben to make when Anna was first pregnant. "David had a class to teach at six. He'll be back in about an hour. Do you want something to eat now, or do you want to wait for him?"
/ don y t care was the first thought that came to Anna's mind. "We can wait," she said. "I'm not hungry."
After a minute, Cait said, gently, "What's wrong, An-nabelle? You don't sound like yourself."
The urge to pour out all her complaints to her sister was almost overpowering. But Cait had never been really sure about David as husband material, and any hint that there was trouble might set her solidly against him. Not to mention the fact that Anna couldn't bear for anyone to know how much she didn't want to be pregnant anymore.
So she searched for a change of subject. "I'm just...worried. And still tired. And wondering what
you've decided to do about the pageant." That should be enough of a diversion.
Cait actually chuckled. "I have everything planned out. Committees set up, people to be in charge of them, the whole bit."
"Really? And a director? Somebody to pull it all together?"
"Two, actually. Me—"
"Oh, Cait."
"—and Ben Tremaine."
The shock held Anna speechless for a minute. "Ben? Ben's helping you?"
"He is. He's also in charge of the stage and backdrops."
"How amazing." She didn't know exactly why he felt as he did, but Ben's aversion to Christmas had always been easy to see.
Her sister chuckled. "He was pretty amazed, himself."
For the first time since September, Anna's concerns about the pageant faded. "I'm sure between you, you'll produce a wonderful program. Thank you so much." She sniffed back tears. "I love you, you know."
Cait came to the bed and bent to give her a kiss. "Back at ya, Annabelle. Now let me go see about some soup."
Even lying on her left side would be bearable, Anna thought, now that she knew the pageant would be a success. Cait never failed at anything she attempted. Especially when there was music involved.
Except for the visit from Ben and the grandkids, Sunday at the Shepherd house passed pretty much in silence. Peggy didn't volunteer conversation and Harry couldn't think of anything to say. The property committee meeting didn't start until four, but he couldn't hang around the
house with nothing to do, so he stopped by Peggy's sewing room a little before three o'clock to say goodbye. "I'm going on down to the church."
She didn't look up. "I'll wait dinner for you."
"Sure." He started to cross the room to give her a kiss. But what kind of expectation would that create? "See you later, then."
David Remington had left a message saying he would miss the meeting to stay home with his wife, so Harry unlocked the church when he arrived and turned on the lights in the office, even made some coffee while he waited for the other committee members. With half an hour left to kill, he decided to check the balance in the property budget and draw up some preliminary figures for the repairs needed.
The church accounts were still kept the old-fashioned way, written with pencil and ink in cloth-bound ledgers. Harry pulled out the book for the current year and sat down at the church library table, glad to have some numbers to think about.
That satisfaction didn't last long. The property committee budget should have been healthy, thanks to a bequest from Kathleen Fogarty, a faithful widow who had recently passed away. Her ten thousand dollars would make getting the roof fixed, or the heating and air-conditioning replaced—whichever priority they chose— much more feasible. But though he checked the figures several times, he could only come to one conclusion.
Mrs. Fogarty's ten thousand dollars had never made it into the church account.
Popcorn, Cait thought. They're like popcorn.
The first official rehearsal for the Christmas pageant children's choir was not going as planned. Most of the
kids in town, from preschool through eighth grade, were in attendance. That was about twenty kids more than she'd expected. Ideally, they'd all be seated on the steps leading up to the platform at the front of the church, quietly waiting to hear her instructions.
In reality, they were constantly moving. No sooner did she get one corner settled than the Tyson twins shot out from the other side of the group, chasing each other down the aisle, making growling noises. She couldn't tell them apart, either, which made calling them to the front again a real challenge.
Even as she brought the rambunctious twins back to the steps, a new commotion erupted on the last row. Shep and Neil went rolling across the platform, coming to rest against the foot of the pulpit, where they continued to wrestle.
Cait flipped her braid behind her shoulder. "Shep. Neil." No response beyond Neil's giggles. "Shep!" She used her stage voice, the one that would reach the back row of an auditorium, if it had to.
That got their attention. The boys looked around, still holding on to each other.
"Sit. Down. Now." They didn't move for a second. Then Neil tickled Shep, and the fight began again.
"Shepherd Eldridge Tremaine, stand up." Ben's voice came from the back of the church. His deliberate footsteps on
the bare plank floors of the room were loud in the sudden silence. ■ 'When Miss Caitlyn tells you to do something, you do it. Right away. No questions, no protests. Do you understand me?"
On their feet now, Shep and Neil both nodded and sidled into their spots on the back row.
"The same goes for the rest of you," Ben said. "Anybody who can't cooperate doesn't deserve to have a part
in the pageant. Got that?" In unison, the kids nodded. "Good. Now listen to what Miss Caitlyn has to say." He sat at the end of the first pew, arms crossed, evidently intending to play bailiff.
Struggling with embarrassment and temper, Cait didn't have anything to say for a minute. Finally, she calmed down enough to give Ben a brief nod. ' 'Thanks, Mr. Tre-maine." Then she turned back to the choir.
"Everybody sit down." The kids, of course, sat. Who wouldn't, with a Secret Service agent watching their every move? Cait picked up the red folders she'd prepared and began handing them out. "This booklet has a copy of some of the songs we're going to learn for the pageant. We'll add more as we go along. At the end of today's practice, each of you can put your name on your folder and leave it here with me, so you'll have them every week.''
Maddie raised her hand. ' 'Have you assigned the parts, Miss Caitlyn? Who gets to be the angel?"
"I'll have that worked out by next week," Cait said, and watched Maddie's face fall. "Everybody will get to wear a costume—everybody will have some part to play. That way, the pageant will belong to everybody." That didn't mean, of course, that some kids wouldn't be disappointed. She hadn't figured out how to avoid the inevitable cries of "Why not me?"
With Ben standing guard, the rest of the practice proceeded without much trouble. The kids didn't sing very strongly—they weren't confident enough to perform for an audience, even an audience of one. But Cait got an idea of their voices, where the strengths and weakness of the choir lay. By the time their parents started arriving to take them home, she had some ideas about which children would be good in which roles.
When she dismissed them, the group exploded like a firecracker, with parts shooting off in all directions. Darkness had fallen outside before the church regained its peace. In the welcome silence, she could hear a sharp wind rattling the windowpanes.
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