The Brands Who Came For Christmas

by Maggie Shayne

Chapter 10

  The truck and the van were parked side by side in the tree farm’s driveway, and Maya was following the farmer up a hill, surrounded by her sisters, her mother and Caleb Montgomery. She didn’t know why he’d said what he had. That he would be here in the spring. He couldn’t have meant it. He couldn’t have. She wouldn’t believe him. After all, he’d told her one night, eight and a half months ago, that he would still be here in the morning. But in the morning, he’d been gone. He hadn’t so much as mentioned that to her or offered an apology, much less an explanation. And she would be damned if she would stoop low enough to ask for either of those things. Far be it from Maya Brand to let a man think his presence or absence mattered that much to her.

  It didn’t. And it wouldn’t. Not now, not ever.

  She remembered the nights of her childhood…the soft sounds of her beautiful mother crying alone in her room. She’d felt her mother’s heartache as if it were her own, no matter how Vidalia had tried to hide it from her.

  No. She wasn’t going to let any man hurt her like that. And she would die before she’d subject her children to that kind of pain.

  Besides, he couldn’t very well run for the U.S. Senate from Big Falls, Oklahoma. He couldn’t serve from here if he won. He was lying. Just plain lying. And all this concern for her, for the babies, all this pampering and coddling and chivalry—putting on her shoes, for God’s sake—it was just an act. Joking with her sisters, respecting her mother. It was false. She didn’t know what the hell he wanted from her—maybe just to win her over so he could then convince her to keep quiet about his illegitimate babies. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t falling for it. He wouldn’t be here when the chips were down, when she really needed him. He wouldn’t, because in her experience, men never were.

  A twinge of pressure tightened around her belly and made her lower back howl in protest. She stopped walking, her hiking shoes ankle deep in the snow. Beside her, sharp as a tack and twice as irritating, Caleb grabbed her arm. “Maya? You okay?”

  She blinked slowly, took a breath, and took stock. Nothing. “Fine,” she said. “Just a twinge. Not the least bit uncommon.”

  They were twenty feet from the van, and there were twenty more to go, up the side of a steep little hillock, to the field of perfectly shaped little trees. And in spite of herself, Maya sniffed the Christmassy scent of them, and felt her spirits rise.

  “Smells good, doesn’t it?” Caleb asked.

  “Smells like a memory in the making,” she said, not knowing why. Her mother was always saying things like that. But not her. It was a sappy, sentimental thing to say. She turned to look at Caleb, at the wisps of snow falling on his shoulders and dusting his hair. He was staring into her eyes and looking confused, maybe a little emotional. Hell, it was that time of year. Everyone was emotional.

  “A memory in the making,” he repeated. “I’ve never heard that before.”

  She gave her head a shake. “Maybe I’ll go back to the truck. Sit this one out.”

  “Now what kind of a memory would that be?” He moved closer, brushed the snow from her hair. “Come on, before they pick a tree without us.”

  Without warning, he scooped her into his arms, right off her feet, and started up the hill with her.

  “Caleb! You’re out of your mind! Put me down!”

  “No way.”

  “I weigh a ton! You’ll kill yourself.”

  “Hey, there are three of you here! And you’ve been carrying these two kids of ours around for nine months. I think I can handle it for a minute or two.”

  Ours. She didn’t like the way the word sounded on his lips, or on the air, and she liked even less the way her tummy tightened in response to the sound of it.

  They reached the top of the hill and the tree lot. Caleb stopped trudging, but he didn’t put her down. She was looking ahead at her sisters, running around like excited children from tree to tree, examining them from all angles. But now she drew her gaze in, turned it upward and focused it instead on the man who held her as if she was not the size of a small hippo. He wasn’t even out of breath. And he was looking at her like…like…

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said.

  She lowered her lashes. “Stop.”

  “You are. Snowflakes on your lashes. Cheeks all pink and glowing. But it’s more than that. I’ve been trying to put my finger on what’s different…but it’s not something I can name. It’s something from inside.”

  “It’s a pair of somethings from inside,” she told him.

  He smiled at her. Then he leaned down and he kissed her. Long, slowly, tenderly. His mouth was warm, and he tasted so good she wanted to kiss him forever. Yet the kiss terrified her, partly because she wanted it so very badly. And then he lifted his head away.

  She blinked rapidly, because there was moisture in her eyes, and she stared at him. “Put me down.”

  “What do you want for Christmas, Maya?”

  She looked away fast when he said that. Because images of her childish wishes and dreams popped into her mind. A rambling log cabin. A dog to lie by the fireplace. A cat to sit in the window. Her own kitchen to fill with the smells of baking bread and Christmas cookies. Her children’s wide sparkling eyes as they watched for Santa’s reindeer on magical Christmas Eves. And a loving, devoted husband coming through the front door, his arms filled with presents for the kids. His eyes filled with love for them—for her.

  “Maya?” he asked.

  She cleared her throat. “Let’s go get a tree before we start worrying about what to put underneath it.”

  He set her down on her feet, and she trudged forward.

  An hour later, a huge tree with roots enough to fill the entire back of Caleb’s pickup was on its way to the Brand place. It was wrapped in burlap, and a half acre of the tree farm seemed to be coming with it. It had taken all that time for Caleb, Mel and Ben Kellogg, the farmer, to dig it up. And once they removed it, they had to fill in the hole and smooth things out as best they could. The farmer charged extra for the privilege of digging up a living tree. Caleb insisted on paying, since it was his idea.

  It took a giant washtub to hold the thing. But Maya watched Selene’s eyes light up when they finally got the tree home and standing upright in the living room. Her small hands were black with soil and her hair full of pine needles. She’d been underneath the tree, smoothing the soil they’d added to the tub, pouring in water and tree food, holding the base as they straightened it and tied it off to keep it in place. And talking to it as if speaking to a puppy. The tree’s lush branches completely hid the baling twine they’d used to support it, thank goodness.

  Maya stood back and looked at it, shook her head at the dirt all over Mel and Caleb and the living room floor.

  “My, my, but that’s the nicest tree we’ve ever had,” Vidalia said, shaking her head in awe.

  “You say that every year, Mom,” Maya told her.

  “And every year it’s the truth. We just keep topping ourselves.” She smiled. “Well go on, now, Caleb, Mel, Selene, get washed up. Dinner’s in an hour, and there’s plenty to do before that. We’ll need all hands on deck for hauling out the decorations. Lord knows we’re already late getting them up.” She clapped her hands twice.

  Maya looked at Caleb, closed her eyes. “That’s my mother’s way of inviting you to stay for dinner.”

  He smiled at her. “I figured that out. But I’d feel better if you were the one issuing the invitation.”

  “Would you really?”

  He nodded. And he looked at her with those big eyes of his, like a puppy dog. She felt something soften inside her. In spite of herself, she heard herself asking, “Would you like to stay for dinner, Caleb?”

  His smile was fast and blinding. “Oh, yeah.”

  She rolled her eyes as he raced off to the bathroom to scrub his hands like an excited youngster. Vidalia came close to her, slid a protective arm around her shoulders. “He seems like a decent man,” sh
e said.

  “Yes. He does, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s your soul mate, Maya,” Selene whispered from nearby.

  “Hell, Selene, you just like him because he didn’t support the annual tree slaughter.”

  Selene shook her head slowly, coming closer, slipping her arm around Maya on the other side. “I do like that about him. But, if you recall, I told you he was your soul mate that night a long time ago, in the saloon, when you first met him.”

  Maya frowned and turned to the side.

  “She did,” Kara said, coming from the kitchen. “I remember she told me the same thing.” She sidled up to her mother, slung an arm around her. So there were four now in the link.

  “What made you think it?” Maya asked.

  “Something in his eyes…and in yours. Plus I pulled a tarot card from my deck when I first noticed the sparks between you two. The Lovers.”

  “You know I don’t approve of those cards, Selene,” Vidalia said.

  “Not now, Mom, please. Come on, it’s Christmas.”

  Vidalia looked sideways at her, and her frown eased. She smiled and began to hum a carol, and in a few bars she began to sing the words, and they all joined in. At some point Caleb and Mel reappeared, and Mel slung an arm around Caleb’s shoulders, dragged him to the tree and linked with the others. They both joined in the singing.

  The timer bell from the oven pinged, and Vidalia stepped out of the arms of her children, dabbed at her eyes, and turned to hurry into the kitchen, muttering, “Lord, it’s almost perfect.”

  When she was out of sight, Caleb sent Maya a questioning glance. “Almost?” he asked.

  She nodded. “There’s one more of us,” she said. “I told you about her before, didn’t I? Edie. Mom misses her most around the holidays.”

  “We all do,” Selene said, eyelids lowered.

  “She doesn’t come home for Christmas?” Caleb asked.

  Maya shook her head. “She and Mom aren’t on…the best of terms.”

  “Not even speaking, you mean,” Mel filled in.

  They had broken ranks and were drifting toward chairs, the sofa. Kara bent to paw through a box of ornaments Vidalia had brought down from the attic.

  “But why?” Caleb asked.

  Maya had settled into the corner of the sofa, and she noticed that he didn’t hesitate to take the spot beside her. Awfully sure of himself, wasn’t he?

  Mel said, “Edie ran off to the West Coast with stars in her eyes, Caleb. But when she got there, she found a thousand other girls just as pretty and just as bright with the same dreams. Her biggest break to date was landing a gig as a model for Vanessa’s Whisper.”

  His eyes widened just a bit. “Vanessa’s Whisper?” he asked. And when Mel nodded, he said, “Wow, I had no idea. Maya told me she modeled lingerie, but I didn’t realize she was that famous. Why didn’t anyone say anything sooner?”

  Maya blinked at him. “You think we go around advertising it?”

  “Hell, if it was my sister I’d erect a monument in the middle of town to her success.”

  “Success, Caleb? My sister poses in her underwear. And the closest thing to a monument to her in this town is Wade Armstrong’s body shop, where my sister’s photos, clipped from the pages of the catalogue, are the basic wallpaper pattern.”

  Caleb’s brows came together. “Vanessa’s Whisper is big time, Maya. Your sister had to have competed against hundreds of models to land a contract with them. Do you know how many actresses got their starts as models? This is a big deal.”

  “That’s what I keep trying to tell them,” Selene said. “Edie’s gorgeous, and the beauty of the female form is nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Nor is it something to spread naked on the walls of body shops for dirty minded men to drool over,” Maya said primly.

  “She doesn’t pose nude, Maya, and you know it,” Mel put in.

  Kara looked up. “I don’t care what she does. I think you and Mom have been too hard on her, and I just want her to come home.”

  Maya lifted her brows in disbelief, then slid a glance toward Caleb. “And you agree with her?”

  “Well…yeah, frankly, I do. I think you ought to be congratulating your sister, not condemning her.”

  Maya thinned her lips. “And how would you feel if it was your daughter posing in an eye patch and a rubber band, airbrushed, glossed over and sent to thousands of pairs of horny eyes all over the country?”

  He blinked, and she knew she had nailed him on that score. “I…hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “Well, maybe you should.”

  “Shssh! Mom’s coming,” Kara said.

  “Dinner in a half hour,” Vidalia said, smiling. “Then we’ll decorate this tree.”

  Maya lifted her brows and parted her lips to protest. It was bad enough her family had conspired to get Caleb to escort her to the doctor, then dragged him into their family tree expedition. And invited him to dinner. But to invite him to actually help decorate the tree was going just a bit too far.

  “I’d be intruding, Vidalia. That’s…that’s a family thing. I’ve already been hanging around here too long.”

  He looked almost sad to have to say so.

  “Bullcookies!” Vidalia said. “Are you the father of my grandbabies or aren’t you?”

  “He’s not gonna answer that one until after the DNA tests, Mom,” Maya said softly.

  That earned her a sidelong scowl from Caleb. “I am,” he said to Vidalia. “Though the idea of you being a grandmother is almost as stunning to me as that of me being a father.”

  Vidalia smiled and sent him a wink. “That makes you family. Period.” Then she leaned closer to him and said, “That doesn’t mean you need to ease up on the efforts to flatter your way into my good graces, however.”

  “I wasn’t planning to.” His smile came slowly. First one side of his mouth pulled upward, and then the other. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me family, Vidalia,” he said. All humble and sweet looking. The big phony. “Thank you.”

  Vidalia looked as if she was going to melt right into a puddle of pudding at his feet. And as Maya glanced around at her sisters, she saw that he’d wrapped them all around his fingers, as well. Even Mel looked at him without snarling.

  Hell.

  “You okay?”

  She frowned and saw that the man of the hour was addressing her, still sitting beside her on the sofa. “My feet are swollen and my back aches and I have cramps in my calves that would down a bull moose.”

  He smiled softly and lifted her feet up off the floor, draping her legs across his lap and proceeding to rub her calves with his big hands. As he massaged the cramps away, she released a breath.

  “Go on, relax. You know you want to,” he said. “Lean back. Breathe, for crying out loud.”

  “I am breathing.”

  But she did lean back and let go. Hell, it felt great, what he was doing. She was only human.

  “Sheesh, when did that start?” Kara asked from across the room. She stood with curtains parted, staring out the window. The snow was falling harder than before. The gently floating fluff of earlier in the day was now slanting downward at an alarming rate.

  “I’d heard we might actually get an inch or two tonight,” Vidalia called from the kitchen. “Certainly is gonna be a holiday to remember around here. Come on, Kara, Mel, Selene, you three get upstairs and start bringing down the ornaments and lights, while I set the table.” She glanced in at Maya, then Caleb. “You two stay right where you are,” she added with a wink. “I’ve been trying to get that girl to lie down and relax for days but she’s been just like a jitterbug on a hot plate lately….” Her brows rose, and she tipped her head to one side. “They used to say it was a sign the time was near, when a woman takes to acting all nervous and jittery like that.”

  “We can only hope,” Maya groaned, letting her eyes fall closed.

  It was nine o’clock by the time he headed back to the boarding ho
use. In a small town like Big Falls, that seemed like midnight. The town only had a handful of streetlights, and those were dim. But it was enchanting, all the same: the moon straining to shine through the thick night clouds, giant snowflakes falling like an invasion of tiny paratroopers. A rarity, snow in Oklahoma.

  He stomped the white stuff off his boots, then crossed the closed-in porch area and heeled them off. He carried them inside—then stood still as the man in the living room rose from the chair where he’d been sitting, apparently having tea with Mrs. Peabody, and turned to smile at him.

  Caleb almost cursed aloud. Jace Chapin was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Well now,” Caleb said slowly, wishing to God he could make the man disappear. “What’s the world’s sleaziest tabloid reporter doing way out here in Big Falls?”

  “Came to find out what the richest candidate for the U.S. Senate is doing way out here in Big Falls,” Jace replied.

  “I haven’t declared my candidacy, Chapin. But getting the facts straight has never been your strong suit.”

  The man shrugged and pursed his lips. “Oh, but the facts this time are too good to resist,” he said. “I mean, the background on this unmarried pregnant woman you’ve been running around with is better than anything I could have invented, I gotta tell you.”

  Caleb tried to look unconcerned, but he kept his eyes averted as he walked past the man, stood near the fireplace, set his boots down. “You’re going to have to explain to me why the background story on a friend of mine would be of any interest to your readers, Jace. Because, frankly, I’m clueless.”

  “Oh, come on, Montgomery. It’s your kid. I have photos of you escorting this woman into the clinic in the next town. Having dinner with her. Carrying her up a snowy hill to pick a Christmas tree.”

  “That’s quite a leap of the imagination, even for you. From dinner to fatherhood.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got more. Just wanted to give you a chance to comment before the story runs in tomorrow’s edition.”

  “Run this story, Jace, and I promise, I’ll bury you.”

  Jace’s brows lifted. “And what will you do for me if I don’t run it, Montgomery?”

  Caleb narrowed his eyes on the man, finally reading him. “You’re slime, you know that, Jace? How much do you want?”

  He shrugged. “Five hundred grand…for now.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine? You mean you’ll pay it?”

  Caleb had his hand on his cell phone already. “Just tell me where to transfer the funds and I’ll call—”

  A click made him stop speaking. Jace had one hand in his pocket, and he pulled out a minirecorder. “That’s all I need, Montgomery. If this wasn’t your kid, you wouldn’t be so desperate to keep it quiet. I can name my price for this story.”

  Caleb reached for the little weasel, but he ducked and ran for the door. Caleb ran after him, only to stop at the porch, sock feet already damp, as he saw the man slam his car door, and lurch into the narrow street.

  “Son of a—”

  “Oh, my. Oh, dear. Oh, my, what are you going to do? Poor Maya! Poor, poor Maya. That dear girl…” Ida-May Peabody wrung her hands and paced behind him. “I had no idea! I should never have let that man in here. Oh, my.”

  “Now, Ms. Peabody, you know this isn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing,” Caleb assured her.

  She didn’t look too relieved.

  He had to get to his room, call Bobby, see what could be done about damage control. And then…then he had to warn Maya.

  Damn, as if she didn’t already dislike him enough.

  “He’d make a real nice addition to this family, you know,” Vidalia Brand said softly. She and Maya were sitting in front of the fireplace. Maya had her feet up. Her backache had been growing steadily worse all day, and now it was really hurting. The dishes were done, and her sisters had all gone to bed. The tree twinkled magically.

  “He will be a part of the family,” she told her mother. “As the babies’ father, he’ll be as much a part of it as he wants to be.”

  “Looks to me like he wants to be even more than that.”

  “Mom, please….”

  Vidalia shrugged, sighed a surrender. “Not easy, you know. Raising a family alone.”

  Looking up, Maya saw her mother’s eyes. The lines at the corners, the hard-worn contours. “You are a hell of a woman, Mamma. Did I ever tell you how much I admire you? No, really. I mean it. You did fine by us. No man could have done better. And I know it was hard. Probably the hardest thing you ever did in your life, raising us alone.”

  “No, child. The hardest thing I ever did was saying goodbye to the man I loved.’’

  Maya closed her eyes, lowered her head. Her father had been a two-timing slime bag. But damn, her mother’s loyalty ran deep.

  “I think that man could love you, girl.”

  Lifting her head, she met her mother’s eyes. “I don’t want him to. I don’t want to—”

  “To believe in him? I know. You’re afraid he’ll let you down, break your heart, the way your father did to me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she corrected.

  “It was worth it, Maya. Being with him meant having all you girls. And that was worth the hurting. Worth anything. And just because you admire me for having survived the raising of a family without the help of a man, doesn’t mean you should wish it for yourself, because it’s no kind of rose garden.”

  Reaching out, Maya covered her mother’s hand with her own. “There’s a difference, Mamma. You had nobody. I have you. And Kara and Selene and Mel.”

  “And Caleb,” her mother insisted stubbornly.

  “No. The babies will have Caleb. I won’t.”

  “But, Maya—”

  “Mom, that’s enough. I’m not going to discuss this. There is no way I’ll let myself get tangled up with any man I can’t depend on.”

  “But…but how do you know you can’t depend on Caleb?” she asked, seemingly dumbfounded.

  “He already left me once. Just walked out, without a word. And eight and a half months later, he waltzes back in again like nothing’s happened. Just like….” She bit her lip.

  “Just like your father,” Vidalia finished for her.

  “Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean—”

  “Yes, you did.” She got to her feet and walked away, up the stairs, and Maya heard the bedroom door close softly.

  Damn. She hadn’t meant to hurt her mother’s feelings. What was wrong with her, anyway?

  She strained to her feet and waddled through the house, checking locks, shutting off lights. She paused at the window to glance outside. Then she let the curtain fall back into place and sent a sidelong glance at the telephone. She told herself that she was not hoping he would call to say good-night.

  One hand on her aching back, she turned to go upstairs. And then the telephone rang, and she knew it was him before she even picked it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Maya?” Caleb asked. “Why aren’t you sound asleep by now?”

  She pursed her lips. “How do you know I wasn’t?”

  He hesitated. Then, “Oh, God, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  Her lips pulled into a smile in spite of herself. “No. I was just on my way up.”

  “Well…well good. You, um…you need your rest.”

  “You sound like my mother. Why are you calling, Caleb? Is something wrong?”

  “No. I mean…yes.” He sighed.

  She heard it and frowned. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “It’s all right. I’ve been expecting it. I never asked you to stay, Caleb. Hell, at least you’re calling to let me know…this time.”

  “Maya…I’m not going anywhere. I’m calling because… Wait a minute, what do you mean, ‘this time’?”

  She closed her eyes. “Nothing. Just tell me why you’re calling.”

  It took him a moment. She wondered why. “I can’t tell you how sorry
I am about this, Maya, but there’s been a leak. The story’s out. There was a tabloid scumbag waiting here when I got back to the boarding house tonight.

  Apparently he’s been following us around, snapping pictures. God only knows how much dirt he thinks he’s dug up on us.”

  Maya closed her eyes in relief, which was so odd that she felt like smacking herself in the head for feeling it. But she felt it all the same. A wave of relief that he hadn’t called to say goodbye. And while the actual news should seem far more serious than the latter would have been, it felt small in comparison.

  She must be losing her mind. Maybe it was hormonal.

  “Maya?”

  “Yes. I’m here. I’m just…well, I’m just not sure why you’re telling me this. What can I do about it?”

  There was a long pause. “I just wanted you to be warned. It’ll hit the tabloids tomorrow, and the press will be stampeding into town in droves.”

  “Well…then you’ll be able to tell your side of the story, won’t you?”

  “I’m afraid my side of the story isn’t exactly going to help matters.”

  She sighed. “This is liable to ruin your chances for the Senate, isn’t it, Caleb?”

  “I don’t know. It might.”

  “It will. If they go digging for dirt in my background, they won’t have to dig far, Caleb. My family is…rolling in it.” She licked her lips nervously.

  “It’s not me I’m worried about here, Maya. It’s you, your family. I don’t want this upsetting you—you’re in no condition to—”

  “Everything upsets me in this condition,” she said. “But I’m getting used to it.”

  “I’m going to fix this, Maya. I’m going to find a way to make it all right again. I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises, Caleb. I don’t like when they get broken.”

  “I promise,” he said again. “Try to rest, Maya. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “You will?”

  “Yeah. I will.”

  She pursed her lips, bit them to keep from making some remark about the last time he’d promised to be around in the morning, and whispered good-night. Then she hung up the phone and went up to bed. But she didn’t sleep for a very long time, and when she did, the dreams that plagued her were odd and frightening.

  She wore white and walked into the church on a fine summer Sunday, with two gorgeous toddlers clinging to her hands. But she found the church doors blocked by a crowd of her neighbors, all of them pointing at her and whispering words that blended together. Trash. Sinner. Harlot. And then they aimed those fingers at her children, and the whispers grew louder. Bastards. Fatherless. Illegitimate. Bastards.

  Beyond them all she saw Caleb, his suit impeccable, turning away and sneaking out the church’s back door.

  She looked down at her pristine children, but they wore rags now, and their faces were coated in tear-streaked dirt. And her own white dress had turned to scarlet.

  She sat up in bed with a gasp and a sharp pain in her middle. But then it eased, and she lay back again. “Just a dream,” she said. “This is the twenty-first century, for God’s sake. They don’t tar and feather fallen women anymore.”

  Maybe not literally, a little voice inside her whispered. No, the ways of making people feel less than worthy were far more subtle these days. The whispered remarks, the constant slights. The invitations that didn’t arrive, and the distasteful looks of those who considered themselves better.

  She’d grown up with all of those things. They had hurt her, because she’d been too smart a child to not be aware of them. She did not want her children to feel the sting of nasty people and their nasty attitudes.

  And yet she didn’t know how she could prevent it.