“She is. I’m growing attached.” Gabe frowned and rubbed his neck again, then geared his attention toward the baby. “I probably shouldn’t, right?”
“Oh, Gabe. You’d be wrong not to, but I can’t speak to that. I know there are a lot of variables to consider.”
Twin headlights flashed in the driveway. A car pulled up, shut off the engine, and then a lithe woman crossed the concrete walk. “Mom’s here.”
He crossed the room and opened the door.
His mother blew in like a category three hurricane, laughing and hugging him, scolding and then hugging him again before she spotted Corinne. “Oh, well, well, well! Gabe Cutler, who is this lovely woman holding this equally lovely baby? And this baby looks just like Adrianna, doesn’t she?”
Gabe sent an incredulous look from her to Jessie and back. “You can’t possibly expect me to know this. I was a kid, and I sure wasn’t paying attention to babies.”
“Good point.” His mother crossed the room and extended a hand. “I’m Linda Cutler. It is so nice to meet you. Whoever you are.”
Funny, warm and a little cryptic. Corinne liked her on the spot. She hooked her thumb toward the north and said, “Next-door neighbor and festival committee member. And I help with the baseball team during the season.”
“And she’s great with babies,” Gabe added. “And makes the best soup I’ve had in a long while.”
“Hmm?” Linda’s eyes lit with interest. “All things that are good to know. May I take her?” She reached for Jessie and Corinne handed her over.
“Of course. I’m heading out, and Gabe, call Kate,” she reminded him. “Watching Jess will give her so much pleasure, and she’ll show her off all over town.”
“A Gallagher trait.”
“Yes.” She smiled because he was right, and she was okay with that. “The town will fall in love with their new resident, and that’s never a bad thing. Mrs. Cutler.” She extended her hand toward Gabe’s mother. “So nice to meet you. And you.” She faced Gabe as she crossed to the side door. “I’ll see you at the festival tomorrow, okay?”
“I’ll be there. Corinne?”
She’d been heading out but paused and looked back.
“Thanks for checking up on me.”
His mother hummed again, a soft sound of approval that they both ignored. “That’s what neighbors are for, right?”
“Right.”
His smile deepened, but she was pretty sure that was pure relief. His mother had come for the weekend, Kate would jump at the chance to help out with the baby while Gabe sorted things out, and the combination had just lifted stress off his shoulders. Reason enough to smile, right there. She wrote it off as that, when he followed her out the door. “I’ll see you home.”
“It’s a hundred feet, Gabe.”
“It’s dark and cold and I wanted to thank you in private.” He glanced toward his house and the silhouette of his mother, walking the baby inside. “I appreciate it, Corinne. More than you know.”
“Gabe.” She shivered and made a face at him. “It’s getting colder out here and you’ve already thanked me. Go visit with your mother.”
She gazed up at him, letting her smile soften the words, and when he gazed down...when his attention drifted to her lips as if wondering...her heart sped up.
She wondered, too. She’d been wondering for what seemed like a long while, and it was ridiculous because she knew better. She’d set limits purposely, for good reason.
He settled his hands on her shoulders, and his touch was enough to warm her one way and inspire shivers in a very different manner.
He leaned in slightly.
So did she.
Cool fresh air puffed the scent of baby powder and coffee around her.
Then her cell phone signaled a call from her house phone. Tee, wondering what was keeping her so long.
She took a step back.
Tee thought the world of Gabe. Callan did, too. So how weird would it get if the responsible adults began a relationship that didn’t work out?
Gabe was Callan’s coach, and now their neighbor. A bad move for either of them could have disastrous effects, with way too much fallout. How could they risk roughing up their current dynamics?
They couldn’t. Callan’s baseball talent could take him places she’d never dreamed of. College scouts had already told the local varsity coach that they were watching three local players develop, and that Callan Gallagher topped their lists.
And Tee thought the world of Gabe.
No, romance gone bad messed things up, and even if he wasn’t a state trooper, she had to put kids first.
Or you could admit that you’re scared. That burying your husband rocked you to the core and you’re afraid to take chances again.
Corinne ignored the mental scolding as she hurried back to the warmth of her living room. There was nothing wrong with being protective. With putting others first. With watching out for her children.
Did that mean she limited her options?
Yes, by choice.
But when she turned off the kitchen light a little later, lamplight spilled across Gabe’s side yard.
The Penski house had been dark for a long time, and while the new occupant managed to jumble her nerves, the sight of that slanted glow seemed nice. She’d have to learn to be his neighbor. Just his neighbor. But she couldn’t deny liking that she had a big, broad-shouldered cop living right next door.
* * *
Gabe had volunteered his time with the Christkindl for the past three years because it was the right thing to do. A fundraiser that helped the families of fallen first responders meant a lot. But he’d always taken road duty before. His presence kept folks safe as they crossed the busy road leading into town, and the sight of his light-flashing cruiser kept speeds down on the main road. His assignment offered enough degrees of separation to keep him focused on the normal, everyday busyness of traffic control and leave the holiday hoopla to others.
Not this year. He’d been home all week and the commander had put him on festival detail, right at the sprawling tent site on the vintage Gallagher farm.
He exited his car only to be immediately engulfed in all things Christmas.
Twinkle lights surrounded him.
A surround-sound speaker system played upbeat carols.
Decorations lined booth after booth, pretty and poignant.
The man who avoided Christmas found himself immersed. Five minutes in and he wanted to make a mad dash to the road, grab a comrade and change assignments.
Are you going to make the holidays dark and silent for that baby? How is that the right thing to do? his inner voice mocked him softly.
He kept to the outside of the tents as much as he could, but that didn’t negate the music and the merry lights, or festooned fresh wreaths in an open-air nursery set up just inside the festival entrance.
“Gabe.”
Corinne’s voice called to him. He turned quickly because this close to the festival entrance, he might still be able to make a run for it.
He paused in his tracks and couldn’t hold back a grin when he spotted her over-the-top holiday outfit.
“I’m rockin’ the Ugliest Christmas Sweater, right?” She turned, laughing, and he had to scrub his hand to his jaw to control his response.
“You’ve entered the festival contest, I take it.”
She beamed. “I could win with this, don’t you think?”
Oh, he thought all right. He thought she was the cutest, sassiest woman he’d met in a long time. He thought she rocked that sweater, because while the ornamentation on the sweater was boldly Christmas-themed to the point of disbelief, the figure inside was total woman. “They could not have fit another clichéd holiday image on that thing.”
She n
odded, smug, and looped her arm through his. “Exactly why I grabbed it at the thrift store for three whole dollars.” She leaned closer, smelling of some kind of holiday cheer. Cookies and fruit, maybe? He wasn’t sure, but he longed to lean closer. “I’m steering you this way before you make a run for it, because you appeared to be looking for an escape hatch when I spotted you.”
He couldn’t deny it. Not with her, and that surprised him. “I was, actually.”
She didn’t push. She simply squeezed his arm lightly as she pointed out all the different vendors, and the massive heaters blowing warm air into the house-sized canvas tents. “With the festival site over a mile from town, we always provide a police escort to vendors who do money drops at noon and three. If you or one of the other officers can escort them to their cars, they can go to the Grace Haven banks and make deposits.”
“Don’t most of them use debit cards?”
She lifted one pretty shoulder, and the sweet scent assailed him again. “A lot of folks do, but there’re a few who use cash. Of course, with the shuttle buses to town, sales here might take a downturn.” She swept the crowded tent with a pensive look. “We’ll see.”
“Have you had to take it on the chin from the vendors?” he asked softly. She shook her head, but he read more in her expression. “From some, I take it.”
“That’s accurate enough,” she admitted. “I’m hoping their concerns are overdone and that they go home happy after a successful sale. Which means they’ll come back next year.”
“And will you chair it again?” He kept the low tone purposely because she didn’t need others overhearing her concerns.
She shook her head. “It’s time to move on. Not so much because of the changes, but because I’ve put in my time. In a few years the kids will be off to college.” She made a face of regret. “It’s gone so fast, and I can’t believe that part of my life is close to being over. That was never the plan, but plans change, it seems.”
He knew that as well as she did, but she handled it better. So much better. Probably because she was an innocent victim while he carried a yoke of guilt.
“How’s your mom doing with Jess?” she asked as they moved toward the food tent. Delicious scents filled the air. Simmering apple, sweet cinnamon and some kind of fried-dough decadence mingled with German strudels baking in an oven adapted for outdoor use.
“She’s great,” he admitted. “And she filled me in on some things that need consideration. Have you got time to talk later?” He faced her fully. “Like at the end of the day? Or tomorrow?” The shuttles were scheduled to pick up the first festivalgoers at the high school now, which meant the time for conversation would be over once the first bus rolled through the loop. “This whole thing with my aunt and uncle has me confused. I know what I want to do, but I’m not sure it’s the right thing.”
“Tonight is good because the kids are staying at Kate and Pete’s house this weekend. They both had things on their schedules, so it was easier on everyone if they stay in town with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Then how about if we hit the Thruway Café about six o’clock? Is that good?”
A voice called her name. Then another, from the opposite side of the long tented aisle. She fluttered a hand as she moved to the first vendor. “I’ll meet you there.”
He moved toward a less holiday-themed side of the tent. He passed jams and jellies and candles and jewelry booths, but came to a complete stop when he spotted baby clothes.
He swallowed hard but couldn’t resist running his finger along the soft, nubbed bright red fabric hanging at the booth’s edge.
“So beautiful, right?” An older woman smiled at him as she entered the booth with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. She set the mug down on the back table, far from the handmade goods, then moved forward. “My daughter does the baby clothes and blankets. And she can embroider names on them, see?” She held up a blanket and he saw the name “Annie” embroidered around the satin binding. “We can customize most anything, but of course, a beautiful dress like this one.” She pointed to the one he’d paused to admire. “Needs nothing else. It says Christmas without being ostentatious.”
That’s what drew him to the red-and-white dress. It was tastefully simple and not overdone with holiday adornment. “How big is it? I mean what size is it?” he corrected himself, flustered. He hadn’t bought a little girl outfit in a long, long time.
“This one is six months. How old is your baby?”
His heart scrunched because Jess wasn’t his for real. But she was his for now, and so he lifted his shoulders. “Jess is four and a half months old, and she’s not real big for her age, according to my mother.”
“With Christmas next month, I think this size would work. And being a dress, you don’t have to worry about length so much. Not with the pretty little stockings.” The vendor had attached a pair of white stockings to the hanger, and the feet of the stockings looked like an old-school pair of black patent leather shoes. Like the ones Grace used to wear. She’d pretend they were tap shoes and dance around the house, tapping her toes with or without music.
He pulled his hand back.
And then the rest of his body followed.
His radio came alive and he eased away from the booth as if he was needed someplace else. He wasn’t, it was a general check-in call from the road, but the thought of buying that dress pushed his heart into overdrive.
He went through the morning pretending he had blinders on. He ignored the fuss and fun, he kept his eyes on people, not things, and by midafternoon he was congratulating himself that he’d almost made it when an old-fashioned Kris Kringle strolled through the tent crowds, handing out peppermint sticks to the shoppers.
As Gabe lingered along the back row, keeping a quiet eye on things, a shopper lifted the red dress from the crochet vendor’s display.
A part of him hoped she’d buy the tiny dress and take it out of temptation’s reach.
Another part wanted to cut across the floor and snatch it out of her hands, and when she flipped the price tag over, scanned it and set the dress down with regret, relief swept him.
He was being ridiculous. Jess needed clothes, he was her guardian at least for the time being, and the outfit was charming.
But what if his aunt and uncle fought for custody once they discovered he had this baby?
Should he fight to keep her? Was he being too judgmental? Or was it important for someone to finally recognize Adrianna’s right as a mother to help form her child’s future?
He moved away from the pretty dress and the older woman’s understanding gaze and made himself a deal. If the dress was still there near closing time on Saturday, he’d buy it. If not...then it wasn’t meant to be.
Chapter Ten
Coffee with Gabe.
Not a date, not a date, not a date...
Corinne muttered the phrase repeatedly as she headed for the café not far from the Thruway exit. The café in town was lovely, and she loved the Grace Haven diner, but both would be mobbed with people they knew. This one was just far enough outside town to draw travelers, not locals. Here they could sit and talk in relative peace without becoming gossip fodder. She parked the car and spotted Gabe, waiting outside.
Chivalrous.
He could have escaped the brisk wind and the growing chill by grabbing a table for them, but he didn’t. He’d waited in the cold for her, and that made everything so much nicer. “Hey.”
He reached out a hand for hers as naturally as if he did it every day, and that made her wish he did. “They’re calling for snow by midweek. And not a few flakes, either. The real thing.”
His hand clasped hers in a move so smooth she wasn’t sure where his skin began and hers ended. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Glad to do it,” she told him, looking up.
Big mista
ke.
The minute her gaze met his, all she could think of was that near kiss on the deck, and wonder what she was missing by not kissing Gabe.
She dropped her gaze and spotted an empty corner table as they moved indoors. “How about that one? Quiet enough to be private, open enough to enjoy the carols.”
“As if we didn’t have enough of those today.”
She settled into her side of the booth and frowned. “I love Christmas music. I love the sweet ones, the romantic ones, the funny ones. I love hymns and carols, and I will admit to playing Christmas music throughout the year as the spirit moves me. Does that make me crazy?”
“The fact that you asked the question should be enough of an answer,” he teased, but she wasn’t immune to the sorrow in his manner.
“The pain of Christmas.” She said the words softly and covered his hand with hers. “When things go well, the holidays are such a joy. But in despair or sorrow, they become a sharp-edged sword. I’ve seen many a grief-stricken family through those first holidays after a loss, and it’s heartbreaking, Gabe.”
“I bet it is.”
His simple words agreed, but she’d read the anguish in his face over the past week. The holidays had a way of magnifying loss. She understood that from a personal and professional perspective. But Gabe’s angst had fired up the moment he’d found that baby at his door and hadn’t dissipated yet.
“Are you hungry, Corinne?”
She shook her head. “I stopped by the strudel booth twice today. Hannah Guerst’s homemade strudels are my guilty pleasure. Her shop is far enough away that I don’t get them often, but during festival time I eat as much as I want. My reward for a year of work well done.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“Too many,” she admitted, but the question made her smile. “Anything with cinnamon. I love the apple varieties, but I think the brown sugar pecan with maple glaze is my favorite.”
“Anything with brown sugar, maple and nuts should be a favorite,” he agreed. He stood to place their order with the barista. “Do you want a regular coffee? Or something fancier?”
The Lawman's Yuletide Baby Page 10