A Child's Christmas Boxed Set: Sugarplum HomecomingThe Christmas ChildA Season For Grace

by Linda Goodnight

  “Something to that effect. I was momentarily stunned after he charged in like a ninja.”

  Oh, no, she was going to laugh. Please, Lord, hold me back. “He is rather ninjalike, isn’t he?”

  “This is not amusing, Sophie. I run a tight ship and we ascribe to the safe schools’ programs. We have policies in place to secure our students’ welfare in every area of the campus.”

  “Kade is in law enforcement, Biff. Perhaps he had some useful ideas?”

  “Well, yes,” Biff conceded, though she could tell he didn’t want to. “We can always improve. Every school can, not just us. But frankly, I didn’t appreciate the man’s attitude.”

  Sophie had seen Kade’s attitude in action. “I’m sorry. He can be a little…foreboding.”

  His gaze snapped to hers. “Are you seeing him?”

  Sophie blinked, more than a little surprised. Was that what this conversation was really about?

  Respectfully, softly, she said, “As my supervisor I’m not sure you have the right to ask me that.”

  Biff relaxed his stance, his gaze searching hers intently. “What about as your friend, Sophie? You have to know I’m interested in you.”

  A sharp pain started behind her eyes. Sophie fought down the urge to rub the spot. “You’re my principal, Biff. It wouldn’t seem right.”

  “There are no rules in our school against dating a colleague.”

  Biff would know the rules. In fact, he’d probably scanned the handbook and ethical-conduct forms before coming to her classroom. Now, what could she say?

  “You’re a wonderful principal, Biff, and I respect you tremendously…”

  A hint of color appeared on his cheekbones. “Apparently, I’ve spoken too soon. I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

  She inclined her head. He certainly had. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Yes, of course.” He glanced around at the vibrant display of all things Christmas, stiff, embarrassed and probably hurt. Sophie did not like to see anyone hurt, and she had the awful need to make him feel better. He was a fine man. She had nothing against him. But he wasn’t…Kade.

  Oh, dear. How had Kade McKendrick invaded her life with such rapid ease?

  “Your classroom looks festive,” Biff said just as Mercy Me kicked into “Winter Wonderland.”

  “Thank you. The kids and I enjoy it.” She fiddled with the straps on her purse, hoping he’d leave before her internal fixer said something she’d regret. All the while, her head whirled with thoughts of Kade. What if they were seeing each other? How would she feel about that?

  “The new boy is doing all right, I suppose?” Biff asked, apparently in no rush to leave. Or maybe he, too, wanted to mend fences and part on a positive note.

  Davey, carefully cutting a paper snowflake the way she’d taught him, seemed oblivious to the adult conversation. She was glad. This whole scenario was embarrassing enough as it was.

  “Very well. He’s a nice child. A little sad at times, though that’s to be expected given his strange circumstances,” she said. “He’s no trouble at all, and I think my class of natural mother hens is exactly the right group for him.”

  “This arrangement in your classroom is only temporary until he’s tested and placed.”

  She tilted her head in agreement. They’d discussed Davey’s placement in detail. Why did he feel the need to beat a dead horse?

  “By then, he’ll be more comfortable, I’m sure. Or we’ll have found his family.” She refused to consider that he might have no family, as Kade seemed to think.

  “The special-needs director suggested he see an ear, nose and throat doctor.”

  “I’ll pass that information on to his social worker,” she said. “The holidays may interfere with appointments until after the New Year.”

  “Understandable.” Biff studied Davey with professional concern. “He’s certainly an interesting case.”

  Davey wasn’t a case to her. He was a helpless, vulnerable little boy who’d stolen her heart the moment she’d seen him clutching a day-old hamburger.

  “Speaking of holidays, Sophie, I know you’re heavily involved in the upcoming community events as well as spending time with Davey. Are you sure you have time for the cookie project this year?”

  A little warning bell jingled. “Are there still complaints?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  She bit back a frustrated groan and tried to joke. “Maybe if I baked this Scrooge a batch of cookies?”

  “Probably wouldn’t hurt.” Biff allowed a smile. “I should let you get home. Your father left an hour ago.”

  Sophie relaxed at his friendlier tone. Somehow she’d managed to soothe his ruffled ego, and for that she was thankful. “That’s because I’ve already decorated Dad’s classroom.” She picked up a stack of papers and her handbag. “Are you ready, Davey? Sheba’s probably missing you a lot by now.”

  The little boy bolted upright with an eager nod.

  Sophie came out from behind her desk and clicked off the CD player.

  “Sheba is Kade’s dog,” she explained to Biff. “Davey’s crazy about her.”

  “A boy and a dog are a match made in heaven.” The principal touched her elbow. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  At the risk of completely alienating her principal, she didn’t argue. After all, he was walking her to the car, not asking her to marry him.

  They were almost to the door when a golden dog streaked inside the classroom followed by a lean, athletic form. Sophie didn’t have a thing to feel guilty about, but with Biff’s fingers tight on her elbow and Kade glaring like the grim reaper, she blushed anyway.

  * * *

  “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Kade heard his tone—a cross between a growling dog and a meat grinder—and realized he spoke through clenched teeth. He couldn’t say why, but the sight of the school principal in Sophie’s classroom set his nerves on edge.

  “We were just about to leave.” Sophie stepped away from the principal’s grasp. “Is everything all right?”

  Would have been if he hadn’t just been hit with a sharp pain in his solar plexus. “I came to pick up Davey. You’re late. Sheba was driving me crazy.”

  That was true enough. The dog had paced, whined at the door and had dragged Davey’s pillow into the living room. The minute they’d barged into the classroom, Sheba had made a beeline for her new charge. Davey had fallen on her neck with obvious adoration. A man could get jealous about losing his dog that way if the sight wasn’t so rewarding. Davey needed Sheba in his corner.

  “I think you’ve met my principal, Mr. Gruber.”

  Kade gave a short nod. “We’ve met.”

  “McKendrick.” Gruber was stiff as a two-by-four. “Back again so soon?”

  “Walked right in.” Kade itched to tell the stuffed shirt how easily he’d entered the building with no challenge, no visitor’s card, no one to stop him if his intentions were evil.

  To Gruber’s credit, he only said, “You can be assured, it will not happen again.” He turned, again stiffly, to Sophie. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sophie. Good night.”

  As soon as Gruber was out of hearing range, Sophie said, “You’re full of sunbeams this evening. Want to go Christmas shopping? Santa is making an appearance at Benfield’s Department Store. You can tell him your wish.”

  He glowered at her, but he wasn’t annoyed. Not at her anyway. Sophie was the bright spot he needed after a discouraging day. Even though he was glad to be focused and working again, he’d hit enough dead ends to make him wonder if Davey had dropped from the sky. “This school is an open invitation to trouble.”

  “Biff said he’s working on it.” Jingle bells dangled from her earlobes and a small reindeer pin blinked from her shoulder. She arched a sassy eyebrow. “Seventeen seconds?”

  The muscles in his back relaxed. “He told you?”

  “About your ninjalike visit to his office? Uh-huh.” Face alight with amusement, she hitched an o
verstuffed school-bag over the blinking Rudolph. “You made quite an impression.”

  “I might have exaggerated a few seconds.” He jerked his chin toward the giant clock on the wall. “It’s long past three.”

  She grimaced. “I should have called you. There’s so much to do this time of year. I have trouble leaving on time.”

  “As long as Davey’s all right.” And you.

  He felt stupid to have been worried, but after surveying the poorly secured building, his mind had run scenarios all afternoon from black-cloaked teens with AK-47s to kidnappers in cargo vans snatching kids from the soccer field.

  “He’s done well today, Kade.” Sophie lowered her voice, even though Sheba and Davey were several yards ahead, bopping down the hall toward the exit. “The special-needs teacher did some preliminary testing.”

  He slid her a glance. His eyes wanted to stay right there, focused on that sweet, gentle face. “Bad?”

  “He has some basic skills, but he’s nowhere near grade level. He tests at late kindergarten, early first grade, although we suspect he should be in second or even third.”

  “Figures.” The kid hadn’t been in school. Period. Wherever he’d been, whatever someone had been doing with him, academics had been ignored.

  By now, they were outside. The wispy, swirling clouds and tempestuous wind threatened a weather change. They made him edgy, stressed, as if a storm was coming and he couldn’t stop it.

  He hoped with everything in him that the wrong person didn’t discover Davey’s whereabouts.

  “I’m parked in the teacher’s lot,” Sophie said, pausing at the place where the chain-link fence opened to the street.

  “I’m over there.” He motioned needlessly to the sports car parked at an angle next to the curb. She couldn’t miss it. Davey was already there, waiting. Kade lifted his remote to open the door and watched as boy and dog clambered inside.

  Still, Kade lingered, not quite ready to let her go.

  “I’ll see the pair of you in the morning,” she said, that mile-wide smile lighting her eyes.

  “We need to talk.”

  She stopped, turned, curious. “Okay.”

  “Do you have dinner plans?” Probably. With Gruber. Although, hadn’t the overzealous student in Sophie’s classroom said Miss B. didn’t date much? Try as he might, Kade couldn’t be sad about that little piece of information.

  “No.”

  “We could get a pizza.”

  Her face brightened. “Sounds good. Pageant practice starts tonight, so an early dinner is perfect. Want to come?”

  “For pizza? I invited you, remember?”

  Her quick popcorn laugh was exactly the reaction he’d been shooting for. Mt. Vesuvius in his gut settled a little.

  “No, silly, to practice,” she said. “Tonight is an organizational meeting to determine parts and such.”

  He sort of knew that. Ida June was building the Nativity scene at town center where the pageant terminated in some kind of town free-for-all, and she kept his ear full of Redemption’s Christmas festivities whether he wanted to hear them. The whole idea gave him hives. What was there to celebrate? A bunch of greedy people making a buck in the name of Jesus? Or the upsurge in domestic violence and drunk driving inherent in the holiday? Give him a padded room first.

  “I’ll pass on the pageant,” he said. “Thanks anyway. Meet you at the Pizza Place.”

  * * *

  Sophie tried not to feel hurt, but Kade’s abrupt departure as well as his gruff refusal had stung. He’d reacted the same way to a church invitation, but this was different. Kind of.

  As she’d driven to the restaurant, she’d had a good talk with herself. Whatever gnawed at Kade had nothing to do with her. She just happened to be in the line of fire. Either that or she was unintentionally pushing all the wrong buttons.

  Now, as she sat across from him, downing pepperoni pizza and bubbly fountain soda, she decided to clear the air.

  “Why do you get prickly every time I mention Christmas?”

  He was in midbite, a string of melted mozzarella stretching from a rather attractive mouth to the pizza slice. Okay, so his mouth was really attractive. Firm, sculpted, with tiny brackets on either side. Davey sat next to him, the towhead barely reaching Kade’s elbow in the deep booth. Kade had dropped Sheba at the house with the promise to both dog and boy to save a slice for her.

  He chewed and swallowed, an amazing accomplishment considering how tight his jaw always was. “I told you I’m not much on Christmas.”

  “Why?”

  “Too commercial. Crime rates skyrocket.”

  “I’ve heard people say that.”

  He peered at her over his soda. “But you don’t agree.”

  She intentionally shook her head hard enough to make the bell earrings jingle. “Didn’t you have Christmas when you were a boy?”

  Something passed over his face but was gone faster than Davey’s first pizza slice. “Sure. I was a kid. Kids do Christmas. They don’t know any better.”

  She was certain he wanted to say more. Certain there was a “but” at the end of his sentence. But something had changed him, something had stolen his childlike belief in all things Christmas.

  “I believe,” she said simply.

  “In Christmas?”

  “And in the reason for Christmas. Jesus.”

  “Yeah.”

  Was that a “yes, he believed in Jesus,” or a polite acknowledgment of her faith?

  She leaned forward, put a hand on his forearm. It was rock-hard with hewn muscle. “Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year, Kade. So many good things happen. People give more, reach out more. I know there’s trouble in the world. There always has been. There were griefs and heartaches when Jesus was born. He faced plenty of His own, but He never let that stop Him from sharing joy and peace and love.”

  He made a soft noise, not quite a harrumph or a humbug. More of an interesting-but-I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it sound.

  “Did you ever read the Grinch Who Stole Christmas?” she asked.

  “You saying I’m a Grinch?” Was that a sparkle she spotted behind that scowl?

  “No, I’m saying I have the DVD. If you want I can bring it over sometime for Davey to watch. Or he can come to my house.” There were lessons to learn in that simple Seuss classic.

  Davey leaned forward, eagerly nodding.

  “Looks like that’s a yes.” She handed Davey a napkin. “I’ll loan it to you tomorrow. I loved the cartoon version when I was a kid.”

  “Me, too.” Kade’s admission was almost as good as an all-out victory. He had liked Christmas at one time.

  “Christmas at our house was such fun,” Sophie said, with a nostalgic smile. “Dad was one of those Santa Claus kind of fathers who made tracks outside our house and jingled bells in the middle of the night. My brother and I would go crazy with excitement.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Yes, it was. The best Christmas we ever had, though, was when I was sixteen. We didn’t exchange gifts that year. We spent Christmas Day at the church serving meals and handing out gifts to anyone who needed them.” Her heart warmed with remembrance. “I experienced Jesus in a new way that year, and it’s stuck with me. I learned giving really is more fulfilling.”

  Kade gazed at her with a bemused expression. “You must have great parents.”

  “I do.” Or rather did. A shadow passed over the nostalgic mood. “They’re divorced now.”

  She could almost hear his brain cranking out cynical comments. See, he was probably thinking, life really is lousy. But Sophie would never believe that. Bad things happened, but all in all, life was good and Christmas was better.

  “Divorce can’t erase those wonderful memories. My brother, Dad and I still talk about them.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “She lives in Tulsa with her new family. I generally see her on Christmas Eve, but it’s not the same, of course.” In fact, chitchatt
ing with Mom, Edward and his adult children was an evening to endure, not to enjoy. Her brother, Todd, hardly ever came anymore, which made things at Mom’s house harder. Mom tried to include her, but Sophie was the fifth wheel, the one who didn’t really belong. She’d much rather be here in Redemption with Dad and her friends.

  “What was Christmas like in your family?” she asked.

  He pushed aside a plate of pizza crusts. Neat little semi-circles of leftover bread lined the edges of the dish. Next to him, Davey was beginning to slow down, too.

  “Two older sisters. Mom’s an executive accountant and Dad’s a hotshot lawyer. We had lots of presents.”

  “Were you the spoiled baby brother?”

  His lips curved. “Something like that.”

  Elbow on the table, she leaned her chin on the heel of her hand, fascinated to think of Kade as a small boy. “Tell me about a typical Christmas at the McKendrick house.”

  He hitched a shoulder. “Open gifts, maybe go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Hang with the cousins, play football or torment our sisters.”

  “I can see you doing that.” Which led her right back to the same question. What soured him on Christmas? “Are you going to Chicago for the holidays?”

  When Davey stared at him with interest, Kade ruffled his hair. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Kade’s gaze found hers and held. She understood. He was here until Davey’s mystery was resolved. Sophie appreciated him for that. When Kade started something he finished it, and he did it with a fierce passion.

  “Am I being nosy if I ask how you’re related to Ida June?” Sophie asked, eager to know more about this man she couldn’t get out of her head.

  “Nosy? Yes.” He softened the answer with twinkling eyes. “But I’ll tell you. She’s my grandmother’s sister.”

  “Is your grandmother anything like Ida June?”

  “If you mean does she drive backward down the street and spout quotations, no. But they are both strong, feisty ladies who can take you down with a hard look.”

  “You always know where you stand with Ida June.”

  “Grandma, too. That’s why I’m here.” As soon as the words leaked out, Kade shut down again. The light in his face evaporated and he shifted uncomfortably in the booth.