The kids watched. The old woman did, too, as if relieved that someone was doing something with the kids. In five minutes, Mia had cleared the board for the red and declared herself the victor. Deftly she set up a new game, as if she couldn’t wait to play herself again, and as she did, Brad . . . a boy about six . . . leaned forward.
She reached out to make the first move, then paused, hand raised. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before!”
The boy lifted surprised brows. “Of what?”
She’d gotten him to talk and Mia considered that a victory. “You.”
He looked even more surprised, but maybe a little pleased, too.
“Do you play checkers?”
He made a face. “I’m not very good, I don’t think.”
“So I might beat you or you might beat me.”
Her logic brightened his expression. “I guess.”
“Well.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Mia and I’d love it if you would play a game with me.”
“For real?”
“For absolutely real, my friend. Playing with someone else is always more fun than on your own, don’t you think?”
He looked uncertain, then shrugged. “I think you’re right.”
“Perfect. Would you like to be black or red?”
“Black.”
“You’re on.”
The little girl watched wide-eyed as they played, and by game three she was cheering her brother on. When the old woman’s eyes began to drift closed, Mia touched her on the arm. “If you’d like to rest in the cot room, I’ll take care of these guys.”
“I couldn’t.” She offered the protest as exhaustion dragged the words.
“Sure you can.” Reggie came their way with another woman, about forty years old. “Susan can get you settled, Jude, and I think everything will look a little better once you’ve had a chance to sleep.”
The old woman stood, then turned back to Mia. “You’ll be okay with Ivy and Brad?”
More than okay, Mia decided. “We’ll be fine. And I happen to know that Angel is heading this way in an hour or so with some of the famous Star Inn cookies. I expect these guys would enjoy a cookie break about then, wouldn’t you?”
“I love cookies!” Brad’s enthusiasm made other people in the room smile. “I love them the most. Ivy likes some cookies.” He aimed a quiet look of concern toward his younger sister. “And some she doesn’t.”
“Well, then we’ll see, won’t we? We can test them when they arrive and draw our conclusions from that, just like a great science experiment.”
“A spearmint?” Ivy’s eyes rounded. “I fink I don’t like spearmints.”
The bungled word made Mia smile. “I promise. No spearmint cookies for you, Miss Ivy. Hey, would you like to play my side with me? You can move my checkers.”
Ivy looked from the board to Mia. “All by myself?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Two of the cutest, deepest dimples flashed in Ivy’s Precious Moments cheeks. “Yes, pwease.” She started by sitting next to Mia, but within three turns Ivy switched to sitting in the little space left of Mia’s lap, perched on her knees.
As their game progressed, the door swung open in the hallway beyond the playroom, multiple times. With every telltale squeak, the children’s eyes scanned the playroom door, hopeful. And as people walked through the hallway to the staging center in the gathering hall, the light in the children’s eyes dimmed.
Who were they missing? What were they hoping for?
Mia didn’t know, but she could ask that question later. Right now, playing a game to relax the concern in their eyes was the most pressing thing of all.
* * *
The sight of a very pregnant Mia playing checkers with two cute kids made Jed forget his frozen nose and ice-burnt toes.
A kid-friendly Nativity sat atop a thick wooden table in the background. The foreground image of Mia, surrounded by kids and so close to delivery, inspired his protective instincts to jump straight to “high.”
She’d cried in the car because he was nice to her. She’d blamed it on hormones.
Was that the whole story, though? Suspicion niggled him as he tugged off his thick gloves.
What if Daniel hadn’t been a good husband to her? What if he never truly reformed from the jerk he’d become in high school?
Jed tried to push the thought aside, but it refused to remain in abeyance.
How could he think ill of the dead?
His mother would be ashamed of him.
But as Mia laughed at something the little girl said, then laid her cheek against the preschooler’s soft brown curls, sadness weighted her features.
Childhood stuff, lingering?
It could be. Her father had intentionally made trouble regularly. He strove to keep Mia away from Auntie P., Pauline’s husband Si, and Grandpa Joe whenever he felt slighted. And Ray Folsom was a needy soul who felt slighted fairly often.
Jed undid his boots and started forward.
Both kids looked up, expectant. When they saw him, disappointment darkened their faces.
Mia had the opposite reaction.
Her smile went wide. Her eyes met his, and she twinkled up at him in a way that made the storm seem insignificant. “I have found my disaster relief niche.”
“I see that.” He sat a little distance away so the kids wouldn’t be spooked, and smiled at them in turn. “I’m Jed. I’m with her.” He pointed to Mia and was glad when she smiled again. “Who are you guys?”
Mia didn’t wait for them to answer. She pointed across the board. “My opponent and the most recent champion of the Emergency Center Christmas Checkers Tournament is Brad!”
The boy beamed, as if suddenly king of the world.
“And riding shotgun on my knee with baby is the First Assistant to the Challenger; may I present . . .” She paused to drive anticipation up. “Miss Ivy!”
“Ivy, you’re a real, true helper!” Brad reached over and bumped knuckles with his little sister. “You’re doing great!”
“I don’t know if you guys are ready for a break in the game action,” Jed advised, “but I did see Miss Angel heading this way with a box.”
“A cookie box?” Brad jumped up, excited.
“A pwesent, maybe?” Ivy’s cheeks rounded with a smile at the thought of a present. “Wif wibbons?”
“I didn’t see ribbons,” Jed told her, “but I did smell cookies baking at the inn, earlier. So my guess is—”
Brad did a victory jump, triumphant. “Cookies! Yes!”
“Miss Mia?” Ivy reached two little hands around to Mia’s pretty cheeks and implored, “’Member I don’t weally wike spearmints, okay?”
Mia winked at Jed, then nodded more soberly to the little girl. “Cross my heart, Ivy. Shall we go see what Miss Angel brought?”
“Yes!” Brad hurried to the door, then turned toward the gathering room.
Ivy looked around, uncertain. She tugged Mia’s hand. “Can you carry me, pwease? Pwetty pwease?”
Jed bent low. “Miss Mia can’t because she’s going to have a baby really soon, but I can carry you to the cookies, Miss Ivy. If that’s all right with you?”
She studied him with far more intent than a small child should have, then reached out her arms.
He gathered her in, lifted her, and watched Mia’s reaction.
She was studying him, just like he’d studied her. Did her mind jump to similar what-ifs?
Was he absolutely crazy to be thinking like this, because they’d only been together for two days? And yet they’d known each other for a long time.
A future had to begin somewhere, right? Why not here? Why not now?
Mia reached out a hand to the little girl’s cheek. “You’ve gotten yourself a mighty handsome escort there, little lady. Let’s see if this handsome cowboy can find us some cookies. Sound good?”
Ivy giggled near his ear, a happy sound
He should be worried about getting home. The r
anch would be fine without him as long as they didn’t get blasted with blizzard snow. The cows were six weeks pre-calving, but the store would be shorthanded, making Uncle Pete’s reaction more foreboding for the staff. Jed had to grab hold of the reins and fix that, but short of forcing the aging man’s retirement, what choice did he have?
Ivy gasped in delight when she saw not one, but two festive boxes of frosted sugar cookies. Two hands flew to her little mouth, and Jed Taylor was pretty sure that the phrase “stars in her eyes” came to life before him as Ivy turned his way. “Those are not spearmints! Those are my most favowite ones of all!”
Holding Ivy and hearing her joyful laugh felt like the true meaning of the season, a spirit of faith, hope, and love.
He’d handle Uncle Pete once he got home, and when a text came in from Uncle Pete about a minute later he ignored it.
They were here until they could leave and that would probably be at least a day, maybe two. And if Uncle Pete had to get out of his office and put some time in on the sales floor or running the register, well . . .
Jed figured it was about time.
Chapter Seven
“Are you as tired as I am?” Jed asked as he helped Mia through the snow-filled roadways that evening. They’d bundled up to head back to the inn once the supper meal was cleared away at the shelter, because Reggie literally kicked Mia out. Nicely, of course.
“Sleeping as I walk, and feeling guilty for leaving.”
“Reggie wasn’t going to let you stay, so put the blame on her and sleep guilt-free tonight.”
She laughed, softly. The wind had died down, but the snow fell at a steady rate of two inches per hour. She and Jed were caught in their very own snow globe, without lights. The glow from the inn guided them up the road, but he kept his arm snugged around her in case she lost her footing.
It shouldn’t feel this good to have him care, but it did. She didn’t dwell on it. She knew the game plan. So did he. He’d be tucked into the family business he knew so well, and she’d be nursing somewhere once the baby was old enough to leave in care. He’d asked if she’d considered staying in Central Washington.
Could she dare to do that, considering her father’s antics? Especially with Grandpa Joe’s grim prognosis?
“Have you picked a name for this baby, yet?”
She shook her head. “When she’s here is soon enough.”
They were approaching the inn, and while Angel had disconnected the outdoor Christmas lights to take pressure off the generator, the star above acted as a beacon. “No clothes, no supplies, no name.”
She swallowed hard, because Jed Taylor was wading into dangerous territory.
“What is it you’re afraid of, Mia?”
The door swung wide. Angel stood there, beaming at them, decked out in another festive holiday-themed outfit. This time tiny Christmas light earrings hung from her ears, and a twisted woven scarf looped around the fold of her turtleneck. The scarf was decked out with more tiny lights, blinking a holiday welcome. Her quick appearance saved Mia from answering for the moment, but she knew Jed well. He’d ask again. And she’d have to answer.
“Reggie texted you were on your way back and I was glad of it,” Angel said in greeting. “She said that expectant mothers need their rest, and no one with common sense argues with Reggie. Come on in here; let’s get you warm and cozy!”
Angel had rescued her momentarily, but once Jed got on track he stayed on track. Grandpa Joe used to say Jed had a hunting dog’s instinct, always knowing which turn to take. She’d admired that about him and maybe envied it a little, too.
Her life had been governed by other’s missteps, and just when she’d broken loose, independent and free, she’d made the greatest mistake of all by marrying a man who never planned on being faithful.
She didn’t want to think about those mistakes. She didn’t want to go around and around with the whys and what-ifs spinning in her brain.
She wanted to move forward. Just forward.
Maybe moving forward means facing those whys and what-ifs once and for all? You don’t talk about this with anyone, ever. Perhaps it’s time.
Angel hung their wet coats by the front heater, set their boots by the fire in the expansive parlor, then brought out a tray with steaming hot chocolate, cookies, and triangle sandwiches. “A late tea for the guests.”
“Oh, that’s precious, Angel. And so thoughtful.” She crossed the room, and if Angel was surprised when she hugged her, she hid it and returned the embrace. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Angel assured her. She included Jed in her smile. “Take a little time to relax before you go up. I turned off the outside lights to preserve energy, but I kept it Christmasy inside because it should be that way for stranded travelers. You know the first stranded travelers of Christmas are right over here.” She crossed to the old-fashioned Nativity scene taking center stage on the broad oak mantel, flanked by two thick ivory candles. “Mary and Joseph, so far from home. And expecting, as well, what a time they must have had.” She gazed at the Nativity for several seconds, took a breath, and turned. “I wanted to thank you both for jumping in at the shelter. Reggie said you took the two little Barringer kids under your wing and she hasn’t seen Brad and Ivy so happy in months.”
Jed helped Mia into the thick, wing-backed sofa, then took a seat across from her. “They’re cute kids.”
“They’re delightful, but there’s a pound and a half of drama that goes along with that whole thing, and how can G-G Jude be expected to raise two young children?” Angel’s normally happy countenance turned downward. “Such a long history of anger and grudges on both sides of the family, a shame if you ask me.”
“G-G Jude?” Jed frowned in question.
“Great-Grandma Jude. She’s their guardian now.”
“Are their parents gone?” asked Mia.
Angel made a face of regret. “No dad of record, and their mother was in and out of rehab half a dozen times. The last time she got out, she didn’t make it a week before she got into a bad batch of heroin.”
It was a story Mia had seen increase with frightening regularity the past few years. “They’re orphans?”
Angel nodded. “Jude’s daughters both passed away, and the one granddaughter won’t speak to her because she thought Jude tried to help the other granddaughter more, so they’re estranged and there’s no one to step up and take those two children. Jude’s eighty-five years old. Before you know it the county will take those youngsters away. And there’s nothing short of a miracle that will stop them.”
“But they’ll stay together, won’t they?” The baby kicked and stretched inside, reminding Mia that sitting cramped her daughter’s style. “They wouldn’t think of separating a brother and sister. Would they?”
Angel sank down next to her. “Oh, darling, they’d love to keep kids together, but it’s much harder to place them anywhere as a pair. And right now they’re in a tangle of red tape because G-G has custody, but she’s growing weaker by the day. It’s like hope’s gone out of her, worrying herself about what will become of these precious children.”
“I can’t believe someone in the family isn’t stepping up.” Jed scrubbed a hand to his neck and hunched forward, elbows propped on his knees. “That would never happen in my family.”
“Your family is special.”
He turned Mia’s way when she said the words. “You think they are? I think they’re normal. And sometimes a pain.” He grinned to soften the words. “But mostly wonderful.”
Mia exchanged a knowing look with Angel. “There are a lot of dysfunctional and disjointed families like the Barringers. I saw it all the time in the E.R.”
“You did?”
She nodded.
“Then let’s minimize the screen and look at this one problem.” He turned to face Angel more directly again. “How can we help fix this?”
“Short of marrying this woman and adopting those two youngsters as your own, I don’t have an answer
to that.” Angel spoke frankly. “In a day or two, you’ll have moved on, but our Jude will be up that hill in the little house she’s owned for nearly sixty years, trying to make ends meet and deal with two little children. Folks help as they can, but the legalities of the situation will win out, eventually. And then it’s out of our hands.”
“There’s no one in town to take them in?”
She grimaced. “Jude’s granddaughter broke the law on a regular basis. While that’s no reflection on Jude, a lot of folks wouldn’t consider bringing a Barringer into their house.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Angel didn’t disagree. “The good of small towns is how they work together. The bad is that they have long memories. In the end it might be good for the children to get a fresh start where their last name doesn’t mean anything. I expect we’ll have to leave this one in God’s hands, but there . . .” She stood and stepped back, hands up, palms out. “I’m talking too much when you should be resting and relaxing. I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
“Good night, Angel. And thank you for this.” Mia picked up her mug of hot chocolate and sipped. “It’s absolutely marvelous.”
“I’m glad.” She slipped away, leaving them in a room full of Christmas and thought.
“I can’t imagine folks just leaving kids to fall into the system.” Fingers entwined beneath his chin, elbows on his knees, Jed rocked his hands in a habit she remembered like it was yesterday.
“You’ve always done that.”
“Done what?” He raised a troubled gaze to hers, and the concern in his eyes made her long to comfort him.
“The hand thing. What you’re doing right now.”
Unaware, he paused, glanced down, and frowned. “I don’t even know I’m doing it.”
“I know. That’s what makes it so cute.”
“I’m cute?” This time when he met her gaze, interest overtook the worry. His dark eyes twinkled at her. “Good to know.” He folded his hands again and leaned forward. “So, Mia O’Loughlin . . . Angel gave you a reprieve before, but she’s gone off to bed now. Tell me. What is it that scares you these days? Because I’d like to help, if I can.”
Silent Night, Star-Lit Night Page 5