“I am so sorry.” The cold fingers laced into his.
“Yeah. Me, too, but that’s no excuse for her weird animosity against you.”
“It’s not exactly weird, Davis.” She dropped her head. “I wasn’t nice to her in high school.”
He studied the top of her head, that pale strip of scalp where the dark brown hair parted. “Ancient history. Time to get over it.”
“I guess.”
“No guessing needed.” He tilted her chin and gazed into her troubled eyes. “The rest of my family likes you. Especially me.”
And then he didn’t resist what he’d wanted to do for days. He kissed her.
* * *
Lana gripped the sides of Davis’s jacket and gave herself to the kiss. His mouth was warm and tender like the man and tasted vaguely sweet like whipped topping. His chest, honed by work, was firm and strong, the perfect refuge for her personal storms. She wanted to sail into his safe harbor and stay. And oh, the way he kissed. The way his calloused hand cupped her cheek and threaded into her hair. She dropped her hands to his waist and around his back, snuggling closer.
She was dimly aware of the children’s voices and a coffee smell drifting from the kitchen. But most of her senses were attuned to Davis, this man who didn’t seem to have the good sense to stay away.
For two years, she’d steered clear of men, not trusting herself or them. Then along came Davis Turner to shatter her resolve.
A giggle broke through her fog. She jerked away from the warmth of Davis to find three children standing inside the French doors, eyes dancing, smiles a mile wide.
Oh, boy.
She shot a glance at Davis. Though his face was flushed, he allowed a sheepish grin and shrugged.
He cleared his throat and asked, “How was the pie?”
Paige and Sydney exchanged looks and giggled again. Then the three of them exchanged high fives and nearly fell over themselves as they ran out of the living room.
Lana started after them.
Davis caught her arm and pulled her back.
“But I need to explain....”
“Explain what, Lana? That we like each other? That I kissed you? I think they’ve figured that much out.” He tugged her closer. “Now where were we?”
Lana was already shaking her head. This could not happen. She’d promised not to let it happen. Davis’s sister was right about her whether Davis believed it or not. Lana knew too many things he didn’t, especially about why his sister hated her.
“This is a bad idea, Davis.” She stepped back, putting several feet between them though Davis didn’t let go of her hand.
“I disagree. I wanted to kiss you a week ago.”
“Why?”
He ran a frustrated hand through the top of his hair, sending it up into a wild spike. “Because I’m attracted to you. Is that so hard to imagine? Look at you. You’re gorgeous and kind and we get along great. Come on. Give us a chance.”
Lana’s stomach churned. Her heart thundered louder than Digger Parsons’s antique locomotive. She wanted to be with Davis more than he could ever know. Kissing him, being with him, was not like anything she’d experienced in her sordid past. With a man like Davis she almost felt clean. Almost.
With all her heart, she wished she could be the woman he needed, but he didn’t know the real Lana Ross. The girl who’d drunk too much and slept around, who’d shoplifted and spent a few nights in jail, who’d basically kidnapped her niece and even now was hiding her out in Whisper Falls. Sure, he knew a little about her wild teen years, but his ardor would vanish like vapor if he learned everything.
She reached out and squeezed his fingers. “Let’s go have a piece of your mother’s pie. Okay?”
“No.” He yanked his hand away and loomed over her. The hurt and confusion in his eyes clawed at her. “We’re not ignoring this, Lana. I kissed you. You kissed me back. But it’s not just about kissing.” He grinned a small grin. “Though I have to admit kissing you was awesome. I want a relationship with you. We have something.” When she stood there, unresponsive, he touched her face and said softly, “Cut me some slack here. Am I making a total fool of myself? Are you interested or not?”
His rough fingers were tender against her skin, melting her, muddling her conviction. “Yes, but—”
He put his hand over her mouth. “You said yes. That’s good enough for now. No buts. Okay?”
Wanting to erase the hurt in his eyes, she nodded. How did she get out of this situation without hurting the most incredible man in her life?
She closed her eyes against the misgivings hammering at her conscience.
She needed time. Like a million years.
Chapter Eleven
The meeting of the Whisper Falls Christmas Bazaar Committee commenced Saturday morning in the conference room of the library, Miss Evelyn Parsons presiding. Lana arrived early, notebook and telephone recorder in hand to find others already there before her. She took a seat in back, heartened by the welcoming smiles of several familiar faces. Haley left her spot on the front row to sit next to Lana. She’d come alone.
“Where’s your baby?” Lana asked.
“Daddy’s play day.” Haley smiled. “Creed loves having Rose to himself once in a while, and we already know his part in the bazaar. He works at my table and donates helicopter rides.” She gave a little shiver. “Which I will never bid on.”
Lana laughed at her friend’s aversion. “You’re so lucky.”
“I know and I’m really thankful.” Haley set a huge, lime-green tote bag on the floor. “How are things going with you and Mr. Looks-great-in-a-tool-belt?”
Lana rolled her eyes at the description though she had to agree. Davis in work clothes was every bit as attractive as Davis in church attire. She was still reeling from Thanksgiving Day and the feelings he’d stirred up inside her. For two days now she’d done nothing but wish for the impossible. “I think he likes me, Haley, and it won’t work.”
“Why?”
“You know why. We’re all wrong for each other.” When Haley only stared at her, head tilted, as if she was crazy, Lana admitted, “I stupidly let him kiss me.”
“And?”
A slow grin pulled at Lana’s cheeks. “It was amazing. He’s amazing. And his kids are adorable but...”
“But you think you’re not good enough because of all that junk from your past. That’s it, isn’t it?”
At that moment, several more people entered the room, among them Tara Brewster and Jenny Cranton. When Jenny saw Lana, she stiffened, grabbed Tara’s elbow, leaned in and whispered something. Tara glanced at Lana, curiosity in her expression.
Shame rose in Lana.
“Who is that?” Haley asked.
“Davis’s sister.”
“Oh. Not good. Not good at all.”
That was putting it mildly.
Others arrived, among them Annalisa and Cassie and a few other familiar faces in addition to some new ones. Head high, determined not to let Jenny’s slight get to her, Lana introduced herself to the newcomers as a reporter for the Gazette.
Then the meeting commenced with Miss Evelyn in charge, efficiently setting up committees for everything from donations and advertising to volunteers and decorations. The bazaar, it seemed, was a very big event in Whisper Falls.
After a while, Miss Evelyn switched on some background Christmas music and the attendees split into groups to brainstorm and organize. Lana ventured from group to group, listening in, taking notes, gaining a buzz of excitement from the creativity flowing in the room. Had it not been for Jenny’s coolness, Lana would have felt a part of the group. This was fun and fulfilling.
Kind of like kissing Davis Turner.
She shook her head at the random thought. The man gave her no rest at all. She knew she’d hurt his feelings on Thanksgiving, a truth that made her ache. She didn’t want to hurt him. That was the whole point. But Davis, kind and wonderful Davis, had stayed another hour to eat pie and talk as if noth
ing had happened. When he’d left he’d kissed her on the cheek. That one little act—slow, sweet and powerful in its simple tenderness—had rocked her world.
Then, as if she hadn’t felt like a big enough loser, he’d called her yesterday. He’d found a Black Friday deal on bicycles for his kids and asked if she wanted one for Sydney’s Christmas.
No wonder she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She shot a glance at Jenny’s table. Davis’s sister was busily writing something on a notepad but Tara Brewster glanced up, caught Lana’s eye and smiled. Pleasantly surprised, Lana smiled back at the pretty blonde. The warm buzz increased and she moved on to the committee in charge of arts and crafts, Haley’s group. As she listened in, she wished she had something to offer but creative arts were not her gift.
When they returned to full session, ideas fairly sizzled through the air to Miss Evelyn who fielded them all with alacrity. When no one volunteered for a task, Miss Evelyn appointed. And no one refused.
“Lana.” The older woman peered over a pair of reading glasses. “I expect you to help with advertising.”
Lana blinked a couple of times. “All right.”
“Joshua Kendle isn’t here but you ask him. He’ll give us free space. Make us a pretty ad. Nice and big and run it often. Ted Beggs and I will take care of social media and the radio stations.”
Now she understood how Miss Evelyn accomplished so much. With humor and strength, she delegated. Refusal was not an option. “Okay.”
“Think about the music, too. The high school chorus is singing and the Methodist Choir. Maybe the Boggy Boys Band. But we could use you. Something modern and fresh and a little bit country.”
Lana felt the stares turning in her direction. Haley gave her a thumbs-up. Thankfully, Miss Evelyn didn’t push for a response, but simply said, “You think on it,” and moved on to Edie, the owner of Sweets and Eats, who co-chaired the food and concessions.
Think on it? Her heart was pounding so hard, Lana couldn’t think at all.
She bent to her notepad and pretended to write, missing several minutes of the meeting to calm her anxiety. Miss Evelyn surely must have heard about the incident at the basketball game and yet, she’d casually urged Lana to sing as if she hadn’t made a fool of herself in front of several hundred people.
What was that about?
Ears buzzing, Lana scribbled madly, doodling little nothings.
Why couldn’t she simply tell them the truth? Why couldn’t she admit the reasons she wouldn’t sing? But she knew the answer. They thought badly enough of her as it was. No way she’d admit that she couldn’t sing sober.
After a bit, she shook off her dark thoughts to hear Miss Evelyn say, “This year we’re reaching out, going for more tourist trade. Work your Facebook and Twitter.” She tapped a pen against her lip. “Now if we could somehow promise them a white Christmas.”
Titters of laughter trickled around the room. If anyone could wrangle snow from the sky for the sake of Whisper Falls tourism, Miss Evelyn would figure out a way.
A white-haired woman on the third row—Reverend Schmidt’s wife—raised her hand. “Miss Evelyn? What is this year’s charity?”
“Good question, Phoebe. Let me explain to the newcomers. Each year the town council chooses a charity to receive a portion of the money raised by the Christmas Bazaar. Townspeople may nominate an individual, a service group, or an outright charity such as missions. This year one of our own is in need.”
Heads swiveled in the direction of Jenny’s table. Curious, Lana watched as Jenny’s face changed from puzzled to a slow dawning.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “Oh, my. You didn’t?”
Miss Evelyn’s smile was benevolent. “We certainly did. You and Chuck put time and energy and love into this town. We want Charlie to have that operation ASAP.”
“How did you know?” Jenny glanced left and right, expression incredulous, palms lifted. “We only found out ourselves yesterday.”
“Don’t you worry about that, hon, or anything else for that matter. God’s taking care of that precious little boy of yours, and Whisper Falls will help with the rest.”
Jenny covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. The women around her hugged her shoulders and patted her back. Tears glistened in more than one pair of eyes.
Lana was stunned. Davis had told her about Charlie’s illness and the stress it had put on his sister, but she had never viewed Jenny as anything but a mean-spirited woman. Like Lana’s mother. Whisper Falls apparently didn’t see her that way.
The revelation shook her. Just as Jenny had judged her, she’d judged Jenny.
She still had a lot of growing to do.
As the meeting broke up, and Lana started to leave, mind reeling with this new information, Miss Evelyn called her name. “Lana, wait up, please.”
Braced for more unwanted conversation about music, Lana nonetheless waited while other women huddled around Miss Evelyn like chicks around a hen. During the wait, she made a lunch date with Haley and chatted with Cassie and Annalisa and Pastor Ed. When a tear-streaked Jenny exited, surrounded by supportive friends, Lana felt the stirrings of compassion. In an odd kind of way, Lana understood the desire of a mother to do everything possible for the welfare of her child.
Soon the committee members cleared out, leaving only Lana, Haley and Miss Evelyn. Haley hitched her green tote and said, “Gotta run, ladies. See you at church tomorrow.”
Church. Lana’s heart thumped. Davis would be there. After this revelation about Jenny, she was more flustered than ever. She lifted a hand and waved but Haley was already gone.
“I have a story idea for you,” Miss Evelyn said without fanfare.
Some of the tension went out of Lana. No questions about the music. No pushy request for her to sing. Just a story idea. “Great. What is it?”
“The Christmas Express.” Palm open, Miss Evelyn dramatically waved the word across the sky in a rainbow. “How’s that sound?”
“Enticing. What is it?”
“Uncle Digger and I renamed the train for the holidays but we came up with this great idea kind of late, so we need you to write up a Jim-dandy article and spread the word.”
Lana had stuffed the notebook in her tote but pulled it out again. “Tell me all about it.”
“I have a better idea. We’ve gotten all the particulars in order for the inaugural ride which takes place tomorrow afternoon. Just a handful of invited people, mostly news folks. I even called the radio station down in Moreburg.”
“You’re inviting me along on the ride?”
“I sure am, though we could use more kiddies. You see, it’s a family ride with lots of fun things for the children. You gather up that darling girl of yours and ask Davis to bring his children, too. Take lots of photos and write this up from the children’s perspective.”
Lana got stuck on the part about asking Davis. Would that be wise? Or would she be an even worse loser to let his children miss an opportunity to experience the brand-new Christmas Express?
“So what do you think? Isn’t this a grand idea?”
Lana looped her bag over her shoulder.
Oh, yeah. Just grand.
* * *
An Arctic front moved through the state late on Saturday night, chilling Sunday to freezing temperatures. Snow was in the forecast, much to the kids’ delight. A sheen of lacy frost formed on windows and wood smoke puffed from atop houses, scenting the air as Davis stepped out of his truck. Car doors slammed and voices echoed over the parking spaces outside the train depot and museum. Below the town but visible from the depot, a handful of boats puttered along the shiny Blackberry River.
“Looks like a good turnout.” Davis motioned with his chin toward the Channel Six news van.
“I saw some others pulling in, as well.” Lana’s lips puffed vapor. “Miss Evelyn mentioned a ‘handful’ of people but I think there might be a few more than that.”
Davis shook his head, amus
ed. Miss Evelyn had a way about her. “Any idea exactly what she has in mind?”
“Only what I told you on the phone. A Polar Express experience.”
“You mean, like the movie?”
“We’ll soon find out. Knowing Miss Evelyn and Uncle Digger, our evening will be way more than a train ride into the mountains.” When they’d gotten out of the truck, Lana had taken Nathan’s hand. Now she paused to tug his sock cap down over his ears, smiling. “Don’t want your ears to freeze off.”
Nathan giggled, eating up the attention.
The scene touched Davis in a way that had him wondering. Did Lana know the effect she had on his son? On him?
“It feels like Christmas,” Paige said, hopping up and down in her thick, hooded parka. “This is going to be fun.”
“A great way to start the Christmas season,” Davis agreed.
The train depot sat in the center of town, a salute to the glory days of the railroad that had built Whisper Falls and other small Ozark towns round about. The 1920’s passenger train, used for tourist excursions year-round, waited beyond the boardwalk steps. The engine’s green-and-red paint had been transformed to Christmas colors by the addition of tiny lights and a giant wreath on the cow-catcher.
“Look,” Sydney said, fairly bursting with excitement. Bundled in a bright blue coat that turned her eyes to gleaming jewels, Lana’s little girl pointed to two red-clad characters standing in the train’s open doorway. “Santa and Mrs. Claus!”
Sure enough Uncle Digger Parsons had traded his usual striped overalls in favor of a red Santa suit and a snowy beard attached beneath his horseshoe mustache. On his head, though, was his engineer cap decorated with a sprig of holly. No doubt about it. Uncle Santa was driving this train. Miss Evelyn, cheeks rosy and eyes twinkling, wore a long red velvet dress, white apron and white hair covered by a ruffled red mobcap, a perfect Mrs. Claus.
Nathan stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow. Dad,” he said in breathless awe. “This is so cool. An almost-real Santa.”
The adults exchanged amused looks. Davis had always been truthful with his children about Santa Claus, not wanting them to confuse Santa and Jesus, but he’d never been militant about it.
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