Jenny cursed the excellent acoustics of the theater because she heard every sneaky, conniving word out of her friend’s mouth. She was aware of the precise instant when Caleb glanced her way. Was his expression smug? It was, she decided, her annoyance growing.
And that woman’s hand had strayed to his backside, too. She had to be at least ten years older than Caleb. What was she thinking? Her behavior was embarrassing, especially since the two of them had met only hours earlier.
“I’m out of here,” she muttered under her breath. If she didn’t get away from here, there was every possibility she’d head for the stage and rip that woman’s hair right out of her head. She’d do it without the tiniest hint of regret, too, or concern for the impact on the play. After all, weren’t wigs totally commonplace onstage? She thought the actress would look especially lovely in a gray one with some heavy-duty wrinkles on her face. She wondered what Bree would think about her big romantic ending then.
Of course, what really ate at her was the worry that Caleb might not be put off in the slightest. For all she knew he was an equal opportunity philanderer who had absolutely no age restrictions at all.
She was still pacing and muttering in the rehearsal hall when the door opened and closed quietly. She knew without turning exactly who it was and clamped her mouth firmly shut. She tried plastering a smile on her face, but she couldn’t quite pull it off.
“You seem upset,” Caleb said mildly.
“Nope. Just a little stressed by this latest idea of Bree’s.”
“Which one, to expand my role, add a couple of songs or end the show with a kiss?”
She whirled on him then. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”
“The chance to have a bigger part? Sure. The possibility of another couple of songs? Absolutely.”
“And the kiss? What about the kiss, Caleb?”
He took a step closer, then another. Only when he had her backed against the wall so she had nowhere to go did he touch a finger to her lips, the caress gentle, but enough to have her breath hitching.
Then he leaned in, covered her mouth with his and took his sweet time about reminding her of what a kiss could be when two people loved each other. She was trembling by the time he released her.
With his gaze locked on hers, he said softly, “That’s the only kissing I’m interested in, Jenny. That other stuff? There’s no comparison.”
“Okay, then,” she said, still trying to catch her breath. “Good thing.”
“Why is that?”
She thought of her desire to rip the actress’s hair out. “You don’t want to know.”
He laughed. “You may not be saying the words, sweetheart, but you can’t hide the temper in your eyes. You’re jealous. Since I’ve been in the same place all too recently, I recognize the signs.”
“I might have been,” she conceded. “A tiny bit.” She frowned at him. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.
His tone was absolutely, 100 percent serious. The twinkle in his eye, however, was anything but. The blasted man knew her way too well.
Chapter Eleven
Connie tapped hesitantly on the door of the house that had once been home to her family. She and Jake had grown up in this house. When her parents had left town and she’d been recently divorced, she and Jenny had moved in, grateful to be in familiar surroundings while they’d adjusted to life on their own.
She could hardly believe that her own daughter was now all grown up and living here, at least for the time being. She’d been waiting for Jenny to ask her over, but when the invitation hadn’t come, she’d sucked in a deep breath, put together a welcome basket of some of Jenny’s favorite homemade treats and come calling.
The door eventually swung open. Jenny regarded her with unmistakable surprise. “Mom! What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d bring you a few things,” Connie said, holding the basket aloft. “I have some of that strawberry jam we used to get at the farmer’s market in the summer. Some local honey. There’s peach preserves in here, too, and a jar of country relish.”
Jenny’s eyes lit up. “Your country relish?”
Connie laughed at her eager expression. “Yes, mine. I know how much you love it, so I found time to make a batch this summer just in case you got home. So, is this enough to get me invited in?”
Jenny stepped aside, her expression stricken. “Sorry. Come in. I wasn’t expecting company.”
“Since when am I company?” Connie asked, hurt by the comment but trying not to let it show.
“I just meant that I’m not really set up for people stopping by,” Jenny explained. “Not anyone. You’ll see.” She beckoned Connie in.
As soon as Connie moved through the small foyer and looked around, she gasped. “There’s no furniture.”
“Exactly,” Jenny responded.
“But I thought you and Caleb went shopping,” Connie said, confused. “Hasn’t the furniture been delivered yet? You should have put a rush on it. I can call and take care of that first thing in the morning.”
“Slow down, Mom. There is no furniture on order.” Jenny looked faintly chagrined. “We got a little caught up in buying Christmas decorations instead.” Her expression brightened. “The yard’s really something, isn’t it? I can’t recall ever having a better display out there. The neighbors have been stopping by to say so, too. Mrs. Walker says she sits at her front window and stares at it while she listens to Christmas music. Of course, I think she sits there all year long just to see what’s going on in the neighborhood the way she always did.”
Connie glanced out the window at the blinking explosion of colors on the lawn, then laughed. “I always knew you’d never get over being a kid at Christmas. I don’t think it would have mattered if there was food on the table or even presents under the tree, what you cared about was the wonderland outside.”
“Still true,” Jenny said.
“Sean’s the same way,” Connie said, then immediately regretted it. Making comparisons, no matter how innocent, was no way to mend the gap between those two.
As if she’d sensed Connie’s dismay, Jenny put a hand on her arm. “It’s okay, Mom. I think I like knowing that Sean and I have that in common. You said he loved that old train as much as I did. You’ll have to bring him over to see the new one. Caleb found it. He kept me from spotting it, then went back to the store and brought it home as a surprise.”
Connie studied her and noticed the unmistakable brightness in her daughter’s eyes when she mentioned Caleb. “Caleb is becoming a real fixture around town,” she noted, ever so casually. “Even Ethel mentioned to me the other day what a down-to-earth guy he seems to be. She’d heard about the train, too. Apparently it’s the vote-getter of the week as the most romantic gesture.”
Jenny flushed. “It was sweet,” she agreed. “As for Caleb being down-to-earth, he was never one to put on airs. That’s one of the things I always liked about him. He was already a superstar when we met, but he didn’t act like it. He’s kind to everyone, not just in the business, but waiters, waitresses, store clerks, whatever. I was pretty green back then, scared to death that I wasn’t good enough, but he treated me like an equal. Thanks to him, I finally started believing in myself and my music. Sure, you and Jake had faith in me, even Dillon, but this was an honest-to-goodness musician who loved what I was writing.”
“Just shows what great taste he has,” Connie said. “He not only saw how talented you are, but what a wonderful woman, too. Still thinks that, if what I saw over at Mick’s is any indication.”
She regarded her daughter with curiosity, wondering how far things had gone between them since Caleb had followed Jenny to town. “Seemed to me on Sunday that you might be mellowing toward him just a little, as well.”
&nbs
p; “Afraid so,” Jenny said, looking more resigned than excited about it. “But don’t worry. I’m not about to rush into anything. He’s got a lot to prove to me before I’ll take another chance. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to trust him entirely again. I was so sure of him before and just look what happened.”
“Admittedly I don’t know him all that well, but he seems to genuinely regret hurting you.”
“Seems that way to me, too,” Jenny replied. “But how am I supposed to know if it’s real?”
“You’ll figure it out,” Connie said confidently.
Jenny merely shrugged. “Maybe.”
Connie recognized the signal that Jenny was ready to put the topic of Caleb behind them. She glanced around at the empty living room then. “Sweetie, you can’t live like this. Don’t you want to go shopping for a sofa, maybe a couple of comfortable chairs?”
To her surprise, Jenny didn’t seem interested.
“It hardly matters. I’m at the theater most of the time anyway. I have a bed. That’ll do for now.”
Connie frowned. “You’re not thinking of giving this place up, after all, are you?”
“Absolutely not,” Jenny said. “I just can’t come up with a spare minute, much less a few hours to shop for furniture. I don’t want to grab the first thing I see just to have something to sit on. I want to take my time. If this house is going to be my own little safe haven, it has to be perfect.”
“I could help,” Connie offered hesitantly. “Maybe take a look around, show you some pictures of what I’ve found so you can make the final decision. It would be fun, sort of like old times.”
“You and me shopping together would be like old times,” Jenny said, a hint of censure in her voice as if Connie had deliberately kept her at arm’s length, rather than offering a well-meant hand.
Connie winced. Once again she’d inadvertently landed in a minefield. What on earth had happened to the days when she and Jenny had been totally in sync? Despite the strides they’d made on this visit, they obviously still had a long way to go before they got back there.
“I didn’t mean...” she said, beginning yet another apology.
Jenny sighed and waved it off. “Don’t apologize, Mom. That was a stupid thing for me to say. You were just trying to help.”
“I was, you know.”
“How about this? The first time I see a break in the schedule, I’ll call you and we’ll go together, even if I can only manage a couple of hours.” A smile spread across Jenny’s face. “Remember when we bought the new kitchen table, the one we both loved in the store, then discovered it had to be assembled? Two days later it was still in parts on the kitchen floor because you didn’t want to admit to Uncle Jake that we couldn’t figure it out.”
“He would have gloated from then till doomsday,” Connie said. “Thank goodness for Dillon. That boy had a knack for that kind of thing and he wasn’t a blabbermouth.” She gave Jenny a sly look. “I heard you had lunch with him at Brady’s on Saturday.”
“Just lunch,” Jenny said. “Don’t make anything out of it, Mom.”
“I’m not the one who needs to be warned about that,” she said.
“Not to worry. I made it clear to Dillon, too.”
“Okay, then,” Connie said, letting it go. “Now I’d better get home before Sean convinces Thomas that it’s okay to have a banana split before bedtime. When it comes to ice cream, they’re two of a kind.”
She hesitated, then said, “You could come with me. Maybe I’d make an exception about that ice cream for once. You always wanted your share before bedtime, too.”
“Still do,” Jenny told her. “But tonight I need to get straight to sleep. Bree’s turned out to be a very tough taskmistress. She keeps adding songs to the play. I think now that she’s got Caleb locked in, she wants to take full advantage of it.”
“She’s not expecting too much of you, is she?” Connie asked worriedly.
Jenny shrugged. “Maybe a little, but I love the challenge. Don’t tell her that, though. She’ll turn this into a full-scale holiday operetta or something and I won’t get a wink of sleep before New Year’s.”
Connie gave her a hug. “You speak up if she’s asking too much, you hear me?”
“Promise,” Jenny said. “I’m glad you came by. Next time I hope I’ll be able to offer you a place to sit down. Maybe even some toast to go with that jam.”
“I’ll look forward to it, and to that shopping trip,” Connie told her.
She walked slowly back to her car, satisfied that there had been a little more progress in getting her relationship with her daughter back on track. In a way it was ironic that the rift seemed to have happened in a heartbeat, but the repair was clearly going to take time. Thankfully, because of Bree and her play, she finally had that chance.
* * *
“You can’t put a romantic ballad into the middle of a Christmas play,” Jenny argued, sparks in her eyes as she faced down Caleb. “Or are you just eager for an excuse to play a little love scene with your costar? I’m sure Helena would be ecstatic about that.”
“You know better,” Caleb responded calmly.
“Then why are you pushing so hard for this?”
“Because it makes sense,” he said. “Have you even read the most recent update of the script?”
“When would you suggest I do that? During the two hours I currently devote to sleep?”
His patience snapped and he stood up. “Okay, that’s it, Jenny Louise. We’re quitting for the night. Let’s get out of here.”
“Caleb, no way,” she protested. “There’s too much left to do. If you want to leave, go, but I’m staying right here until I have this figured out. I know the scene needs something, but a romantic ballad isn’t it. This is a Christmas show, not a Broadway musical.”
“If you took a break and got some sleep, you’d be more reasonable,” he said, only to get a look that could have frozen an entire garden of fresh vegetables.
“Are you suggesting I’m refusing just to be stubborn?” she asked, radiating exasperation.
He merely lifted a brow. “Think about it, Jenny. Weren’t there romances in a lot of the great Christmas movies? We’re not performing the story of the birth of Jesus. The way I read Bree’s play, it’s about redemption and hope and forgiveness.” Something Caleb thought reflected his situation with Jenny pretty accurately.
To his delight, they’d been arguing like this for a couple of days now. It had been like old times, when they’d been trying to come to a meeting of the minds over the lyrics of a song for his group’s latest album. Jenny could string pretty words together, imbue them with soul and meaning, but Caleb had always pushed for more. He knew instinctively what would touch the heartstrings of an audience. Right now, he believed this show needed a romantic ballad, something to make the adults leave the theater with the same sense of holiday magic the kids would experience.
Or maybe what he really wanted was a chance to work on a song like that with Jenny again.
“You’re not scared of working on a romantic ballad with me, are you?” he asked, a daring note in his voice. He knew Jenny couldn’t resist a challenge.
“Why would I be?” she asked, an indignant flare of color in her cheeks.
“Because you remember what always happened after we’d gotten a song like that just right,” he said, his voice low and deliberately laced with seduction. “We’d get all caught up in the emotions and the next thing we knew, we’d be all over each other.”
“That was then,” she said fiercely, but there was more telltale color in her cheeks when she said it. “Those days are behind us, Caleb. Far, far behind us. Ancient history.”
He smiled at her vehemence. “Okay, then, if you’re not scared of what might happen, why not just give it a try? You’ll write it, I’ll p
erform it and we’ll let Bree decide if it goes or stays.” There wasn’t a doubt in his mind what Bree would say. His respect for her had deepened over the past few days. He’d come to realize she was a woman who truly knew her stuff when it came to producing a show that would bring an audience to its feet.
“Okay, fine. Whatever,” Jenny finally conceded. “I’ll see if something comes to me.”
“So gracious in defeat,” he teased.
“You didn’t defeat me,” she countered stubbornly. “I said I’d give it a try. If you gloat, I could easily change my mind.”
“No gloating, I promise,” he said.
At least not till he was alone.
“Now let’s get out of here and get something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He nearly rolled his eyes at the petulant tone. “Well, I am. I’ll pick up a pizza and be back in twenty minutes. You want mushrooms, onions and peppers on yours?” Before she could respond with another claim of not being hungry, he answered his own question. “Of course you do. Back in a few.”
He smiled to himself as he left the theater. Sometimes Jenny made taking care of her next to impossible. He’d learned a long time ago to ignore what she claimed aloud and act on what he saw in her eyes. Back then the tactic hadn’t steered him wrong. He’d gotten pretty good at reading her and anticipating her needs. He thought about his unspoken plan for working that ballad into the play—the one he intended to discuss with Bree at the first opportunity—and hoped that he’d gotten it right this time, too.
* * *
Jenny walked into the rehearsal hall the next morning, new lyrics scribbled in a notebook. She’d spent the whole night trying to get the words just right. They’d flowed more easily than she’d expected on the first draft, but the fine-tuning she required of herself to seek perfection had taken a lot longer.
Entering the room, she stopped in her tracks. Caleb was sitting on the floor with Emily Rose cuddled in close on one side and Sean on the other. Her breath caught in her throat at how natural he looked with them, how at ease he was reading from a picture book.
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