by Jillian Hart
But she was starting to see there was more to life. More to loving. More to being a mother and a woman. She wrapped one arm around her daughter and drew her a little closer, as close as the seat belt would allow, and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“Jonah, look! Is that the tree farm?”
“That’s what the sign says.” The amusement in his voice rumbled with a cozy feel.
It felt right somehow to be together with him. She liked—no, she loved—the way he was strong and quiet but gently good-humored. She watched him with new eyes over the top of Mia’s flyaway hair and knew at week’s end when she went back home she would miss him. Very much.
Jonah guided the truck off the road and into the parking lot marked by a low, split-rail fence. What impressed her most about him was that he seemed to know so many people, so she wasn’t surprised when a man loading up a tree in the parking lot waved to him. The man’s friendly smile and obvious regard for Jonah said everything. It was how everyone treated him. Her assessment of the man, unlike with Jeff, seemed to match everyone else’s. Jonah was without a single doubt the kind of man who always did what was right and true. He had never let anyone down nor would he ever.
Maybe it was safe to admit just to herself that her heart was doing more than taking a little tumble for him.
By the time she’d unbuckled her seat belt and had opened her door, Jonah was there, offering his hand to help her down. She did not dare meet his gaze as she laid her woolen glove on his palm and stepped to the ground. It felt as if her heart kept going, falling all the way to the snowy down at her feet.
Behind her Mia was chattering away, thrilled by the crisp sunshine and scent of trees and the field stretching out ahead of them full of spruce and fir.
“We always get one from the lot by the church,” Mia was explaining as Jonah shut the door. “Mom pays to have it delivered and we sometimes get to decorate it, but mostly we’re too busy.”
Jonah sounded amused as he hailed over a down-vested employee. “I’ve been too busy to get a tree lots of times.”
“Yes, this year Mom ordered a tree without even seeing it and the decorator had it all done. I was away at school.” Mia shook her head as if it was an obvious tragedy. “It’s not tradition. Grandmother Millie always decorated her Christmas tree.”
“Sure, now you quote tradition.” Debra wrapped her arms around her daughter and gave her a quick squeeze.
“I know, I’m just saying—” Mia gave a good-natured huff. “Maybe sometimes tradition’s good and sometimes something else is better.”
“Maybe.” Debra felt Jonah’s gaze on her. He was quietly watching them with an inscrutable look—something more than approval and strangely like wistfulness. “How much room do you have for a tree in your apartment? Are we looking for something small? Medium? Huge?”
“Small. Definitely small.” The sparkles in his eyes dazzled when he chuckled. “I can tell by the look of you two that I’m in trouble.”
“You are a smart man, Jonah Fraser.” Debra faced the approaching man with a name tag. “We’re looking for a medium-sized spruce.”
“Sure thing, ma’am. You want to head off to your left, those are our premium trees. I’ll tag along and cut the one you choose.”
“No need, Ted.” Jonah held out his hand for the ax. “I see you’re pretty busy. I’ll do it myself.”
“Seeing as how it’s you, Jonah.” The tree man handed over his ax. “My wife is sure happy with that new kitchen you and Ben did for her.”
“Glad she’s happy. See you later.” Jonah hefted the tool, carrying it easily by the handle and keeping his stride short to stay at Debra’s side. “I can see you’re a take-charge kind of woman.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“Not a chance. You’ve met my mother right? My sister? The men in my family learn quick how to hold our ground.”
“I hope you don’t mind Mia and I are picking out a tree for you. I agree with her. You need help.”
“Don’t we all.” Jonah thought of what Mia had said to him in the church. “You look happier than when you first walked into the carpentry shop.”
“I had a lot of worries when I first came, but they were for nothing. Ben is wonderful. It’s that simple. He’s so much like our brother Brandon, it feels as if I’ve known him forever.”
“A good sign. The time here has been good for you. You look radiant.”
“I do?” Surprise marked her face and she modestly waved his words away with a flip of her gloved hand. “This is the first time off I’ve had in forever. I think I took a week off when Mia was five to take her to the amusement parks in Florida. Mom and Dad tagged along with us, but other than that, I’ve been focused on providing for my girl.”
“A worthy goal.” He paused as Mia trotted ahead of them, looking at the trees. “You’ve done well with her.”
“Thanks, I only hope she’s happy. I would mortgage my future for that.”
He didn’t doubt it. “That’s why the high-powered career. I get that. But what about those dreams you haven’t talked about? Does the bookshop have anything to do with it?”
“Was I that obvious?”
“Your eyes give you away.” She was so honest, he could read her more clearly than anyone he’d ever known. Sunlight burnished her, making her lustrous hair gleam with highlights and emphasizing her porcelain complexion.
He tore his gaze away because if he wasn’t careful he was going to be the one who was starting to dream. “When Mia’s father refused to marry you for her sake, I’m assuming he had no interest in financial support?”
“No, and I was too proud to force him. I took my mother’s words to heart. I see now, thanks to you, that maybe there was another meaning to her statements, that she was speaking out of her own pain. But I loved her and I grew up. I graduated a few months later and I went straight to my family’s publishing house.”
“Some people in your position might have taken the easy path.” He did his best not to look at her but kept his gaze on the sparkling snow directly ahead of his boots. “But I know you enough to guess that you’ve earned what you have in life.”
“My position at the publishing house may have been expected, but no one works harder than I do, unless it’s my brother Brandon.” She shrugged, and her shadow riding before them on the snow shrugged, too.
“You still aren’t telling me about your dreams.”
“Some hurt too much, and the question is, how can something you’ve never had be so painful?”
“Wait one minute. Right there. That’s proof of how strong the things are which you cannot see or touch.” His shadow stretched ahead of him, taller and broader than her slim one. The image of them side by side together pulled at the dreams long buried and at a new one he wouldn’t let himself see.
“I suppose you’re right.” She tucked a strand of hair beneath her cap, drawing his gaze.
Drawing his admiration. Time stood still as he felt the first strike of love in his heart.
Up ahead, Mia’s voice cut through the stillness. “How about this one?”
When he found her up ahead standing in front of a fifteen-foot spruce, he figured she was being optimistic. “I’m not sure I could get that up the stairs and through the door. That’s problem number one. Problem number two would be that my ceilings are ten feet high.”
“Okay.” Mia shielded her eyes against the sun with her hand to grin at him. “I’ll find the perfect tree for you, don’t you worry!”
Jonah chuckled. “She’s determined, isn’t she?”
“You’re being a good sport, Jonah.”
“She’s great.”
“Yes, she is.” Debra leaned closer to him, so her voice wouldn’t carry. “That lost dream you wanted to know about? It’s nothing, nothing at all compared to the dream I got instead.”
He was beginning to see that about dreams. “You got a good one there.”
“I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”
Yeah, he was starting to feel that way about Debra. He folded her hand in his and, just so neither of them got the wrong idea, he explained. “The snow’s deep here. I don’t want you to slip.”
Her smile told him that she understood what he couldn’t say.
They walked together through the sun and snow with the fresh evergreen scent surrounding them, giving Mia all the time she needed to find the perfect tree.
Ross pulled to a stop outside the middle-class home and turned toward his passenger. Zach had been silent during the drive to this Richmond suburb. They’d both had a lot on their minds. Lynda Matthews had left her husband because he battered her. Wendy Kates had been with a man who battered her. Now they had to learn what Lynda knew before they could make their next move.
“He’s got to be our man.” Zach sounded sure.
“That’s my hunch, too. I guess we’re about to find out.” He nodded toward the front door, which was already opening. A woman with light brown hair was peeking out at him.
Lynda Matthews. Ross pocketed his keys and led the way up the concrete walkway. As he got closer, he noticed the bruising on the woman’s face. Greenish yellow around her eyes and across one cheekbone. Darker, newer bruises turning from deep black to purple on her jaw.
Sympathy filled him. “Thanks for agreeing to talk to us, Mrs. Matthews.”
“Call me Lynda, please.” As if uncertain, she backed up, pulling the door more widely open. “I want to do the right thing. Your sister, Trista, has been very k-kind to me. She’s helping me when I need it.”
“Trista will be glad to know that. I want to help you, Lynda. That’s why Detective Fletcher and I are here. We want to make sure Douglas Matthews doesn’t hurt you or any woman like this again. Will you answer our questions?”
“If I can. Come in.” The woman looked withdrawn and she moved with care, as if she were nursing a cracked rib or two. “My son is with my mother, so we won’t be interrupted. My dad is in the next room.”
“He’s welcome to join us if you’d feel safer.” Ross waited for Zach to wipe his feet before coming inside. He closed the door, listening as Lynda talked nervously about Trista’s call a few minutes ago. It had been a good decision to involve his sister.
After they’d sat down in the living room and refused offers of tea, they were able to get down to business. “My first question,” he began, “is about Douglas’s illegitimate daughter. Has he ever mentioned her?”
Lynda shook her head. “I had no idea. A daughter, you said? He never—” She swallowed hard. “He made me believe Logan was his only child. His first child. Then again, Douglas lied about a lot of things.”
Zach took a turn. “Have you ever heard the name Wendy Kates?”
“Never.”
“How about Barnaby Harcourt?” Ross asked next. “Did your husband ever meet with him or speak of him?”
“No.” Lynda fidgeted and shifted position on the couch. She looked very nervous. “There was this one time I interrupted Douglas when he was on the phone. He was very angry, which had surprised me at the time. When he deals with most people, he uses his television voice. That’s what I call it. The one that sounds so good and kind. He was furious and slammed down the phone. I noticed he had the checkbook out and he’d written Barnaby Harcourt as the payee. Douglas demanded to know what I s-saw. I didn’t tell him the truth. I was afraid to. I remember stammering—I didn’t know what to tell him—and he hit me. He told me never to interrupt him like that again. I never did.”
Ross felt sickened by Matthews. He vowed to keep Lynda Matthews in his prayers. No woman deserved such treatment. He held back what he knew about Wendy Kates. Lynda had been luckier than other women who’d spent time with Douglas Matthews, he realized, and that was sad, too. “Has Douglas tried to contact you?”
“He’s sent flowers, but I refused them. I know he’s going to fight me for custody. He keeps calling, but I won’t speak to him. I’ve asked Trista to file whatever papers we need to get a restraining order. I’m s-scared of Douglas, but I did the right thing ending my marriage. God didn’t intend for a husband to be cruel to his wife.”
“No, He didn’t,” Ross said as kindly as he could. “Thank you for your time, Lynda. If more questions come up, may I call you?”
“I’ll help if I can.”
Ross noticed the college and vocational-training catalogs on the end table. It was good that Lynda was making plans for a better life. He wished that for her.
At least he had some answers. Liam Matthews, Douglas’s father, must have been paying Barnaby Harcourt off, and after Liam’s death it sounded like Douglas had shelled out to keep his dirty deeds safely forgotten.
He waited until they were in the car heading back to the freeway before he asked Zach what he thought.
“I want the pleasure of cuffing him and hauling that rat to jail. What we don’t have is hard evidence. It’s all we’re missing to nail him.
“We just have to be smart, that’s all.” Ross kept his eyes on the road, since the traffic was getting heavier. They had a long drive ahead of them and plenty of time to figure out a plan to force Douglas Matthews into showing his hand.
Chapter Eleven
Debra watched tiny snowflakes fly at the windshield of Jonah’s truck and gave in to a cozy snuggle of contentment. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed. Everything was just right. It had been, as Mia would say, the best day ever.
They’d decorated Jonah’s tree while he’d found and replaced all the burned-out bulbs in his strings of Christmas lights. When they were done, the spruce looked festive with its flashing multicolored glow and the paper snowflakes they’d added to the glittering stars and candy canes and silver and gold bells the girls had made.
She shot a glance over Mia’s head to the man behind the wheel. Jonah was the reason the day had been special. All these years she’d felt alone, struggling to give Mia everything she deserved, working to please her family and to mend fences with her mother at a job she liked but didn’t love. She’d been living a good life with so many comforts and yet she’d never known what was off, why she felt out of place and why true contentment had always eluded her.
She’d been missing a vital piece in her life, in her heart and in her soul. She’d forgotten how to dream.
“Oh! I know where we are!” Mia spoke up, bobbing on the seat to point up ahead. “We’re near the mayor’s mansion, right? Where we saw the tree-lighting ceremony? I wanted to see that street of lights. Can we? Please?”
“I don’t mind. How about it, Deb?”
The way he said her name made emotions ball up in her throat. Emotions she had to try to keep reined in. “Sure, it’s a lovely area of town.”
“I like it, too. I always figured I’d live around here one day.” He hung a right, nosing the truck down the frosty street that glowed under the influence of thousands of twinkle lights.
“Wow.” Mia twisted against the seat belt to get a better view. “I want to live here, too. This is awesome.”
Debra felt dazzled, as well. For as far as she could see down the street, every home was tastefully decorated with lights and festive displays. It wasn’t casually done. Great care and effort showed in the glowing candy canes marching up the walk to the front porch of the house on her right. Lit reindeer grazed on one lawn beneath perfectly blue icicle twinklers on the next house. Lights blazed like wonder.
Jonah parked against the curb. “Locals call this street Christmas Lane. It’s even in the sales agreements so the people new to the street have to keep up the tradition.”
“There’s other people looking, too.” Mia pointed out as she unbuckled her seat belt.
“The house at the end of the row collects donations for our church toy drive, so it’s all for a good cause.” Jonah cut the engine and pocketed his keys. “Want to take a walk?”
More than anything. By the time she’d opened her door, Jonah was already there. It felt right, it felt as if every missin
g piece were in place as she let him help her to the ground. She crunched through the frozen snow to the cleared sidewalks while Mia trailed after her. Crystalline perfect flakes whispered from sky to ground, a soft accent to the view. Upscale, roomy homes sat on wide lots with plenty of trees. It was like a street out of a storybook. She could see why Jonah said he’d always wanted to live here.
She recognized the cadence of Jonah’s gait as he joined her on the sidewalk. Again, peace stirred through her like the breeze through the snow at his nearness. Maybe her heart was trying to tell her something.
“Nice, huh?” he asked.
“Very Christmassy. It’s festive enough to put me in the spirit of the season.”
“Excellent.” His smile was slow and true.
His smile captured a little more of her heart.
Debra, Debra, Debra, she thought, you’re going to get hurt if you keep this up. But did that stop her? No. Not from moving a hint closer to him. Not from letting the emotion she’d been holding back into her heart.
“Hey, Mom!” Mia was two houses ahead, pointing at one of the homes. “Look!”
It was a house out of her dreams. A modest brick Tudor was outlined by dripping white lights. Smaller twinkle lights framed a wide front porch and a bay window. The living room was visible behind the window glass and the room looked cozy from the soft glow of the impressive Christmas tree and a fire crackling in a brick fireplace. Debra didn’t mean to be too nosy, but she couldn’t help being drawn by the sight of handcrafted floor-to-ceiling bookcases full of books.
“Oh, that’s the Lansbury’s home.”
The owners of the bookshop. That explained all the books. Did that mean the house would be going up for sale, too?
No, don’t even begin to breathe life into that dream. She had to be sensible, although with Jonah at her side it was nearly impossible.
Another car pulled up to park. She steeled her spine and forced her boots forward down the walkway past the beautiful house to keep up with Mia, who was a few paces ahead studying every festive detail she could see.