Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5)

by Valerie M. Bodden

  Austin. The name popped into her head. She could call Austin and ask him to check on Jackson. It wouldn’t be suspicious if the neighbor happened to stop by―maybe he needed to borrow some sugar or something.

  She took out her phone and scrolled to his name. Good thing she’d made him give her his number last night, just as she’d done with all the rest of her neighbors when she’d moved into the neighborhood. Just as a way for everyone to watch out for one another.

  Her finger hovered over the call button. Was this too weird?

  Austin hadn’t seemed entirely comfortable at her house last night. Of course, Jade’s implication that the two of them had met and then intentionally sought each other out again hadn’t helped.

  But it seemed like there was more to it than that. He tried to hide it, but she hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flitted to the door every few seconds, no matter what room he was in. And other than a quick glance, he’d entirely ignored Jackson.

  Still, he didn’t have to be Mr. Rogers to check on Jackson now.

  She hit the button, cradling the phone against her shoulder and cleaning the mushrooms as she waited for him to answer.

  When he did, he sounded winded.

  “Did you just get back from a run?” She set the mushrooms down and leaned against the counter.

  “No. Working out. What’s up?”

  Unbidden, an image of his broad shoulders sprang to mind. She banished it. “Could you do me a favor?”

  “Maybe.” Austin sounded hesitant. “Depends what it is.”

  Leah laughed. “That’s fair. Can you look out your window and check something for me?”

  “Sure. Check what?”

  “Is my house still standing?”

  The laugh that sped through the phone took Leah by surprise. She didn’t know Austin well, but so far she hadn’t gotten the impression he was the laughing type.

  “It’s still standing. Why? Are you expecting it to fall today?”

  “I hope not.” Leah had never been more fervent about anything. “Now for the favor.”

  “I thought that was the favor.” Austin’s bemusement crept through the phone.

  “No. That was a question.” Leah tucked her hair behind her ear and switched the phone to her other shoulder. “The favor is, can you go over to my house and check on Jackson?”

  “Check on―”

  “But don’t let him know you’re checking on him,” Leah rushed on. “Tell him you need to borrow some sugar or something.”

  “I don’t think―”

  But now that Leah had hatched the plan, she was desperate to carry it through. It was the only way she’d have any peace of mind. “Then call me afterward and let me know how he’s doing. Please.”

  “Leah, I think―”

  “I’m sorry. I know this is weird. And I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. But I need to know that he’s okay there, or I won’t be able to do my work here. And I don’t want to ruin some poor couple’s wedding dinner because I’m a basket case.”

  The moment Austin’s sigh crackled through the speaker, she knew she had won. “Thank you so much, Austin. You’re the best.” She clicked the phone off before he could try to get out of it again.

  “He’s the best, huh?”

  Leah jumped at Peyton’s voice. She’d been so focused on her conversation with Austin, she hadn’t seen her best friend come in and set her box of cake decorating supplies on the counter.

  “He’s going to check on Jackson. I’ve been so worried about leaving him home alone.” Leah busied herself chopping the mushrooms. There was no reason she should feel embarrassed that she’d been on the phone with Austin.

  But she knew the conclusion Peyton would jump to before her friend said it. “He seemed like a nice guy. Maybe you should―”

  “No.” Leah stilled her knife and lifted her head. “I’m not going to ask him on a date. I’m not going to ask anyone on a date. And for the record, none of you are going to ask anyone on a date for me either. Never mind the fact that I’ve told you not to a thousand times before.”

  Peyton’s mouth opened, but Leah wasn’t done. “Jackson is my priority right now. And he will be for a long time to come. So no more comments about asking Austin out. He’s a nice guy, and I look forward to becoming friends with him. But that’s as far as it goes.”

  Peyton raised her hands in front of her in a gesture of surrender. She started pulling supplies out of her box in silence, and Leah returned to her chopping.

  But after a few minutes, Peyton slid her empty box off the counter and turned to Leah, watching her silently.

  Leah blew a stray piece of hair out of her face. “What?” She’d rather pretend Peyton wasn’t standing there just waiting to tell her something―something she probably didn’t want to hear―but she knew Peyton would just bring it up another time―probably a time when it was even less convenient.

  “It’s just . . .” Peyton waved her piping bag at Leah. “You’ve put this guy into the friend zone before you’ve even gotten to know him. You’re not giving him a chance.”

  Leah rolled her eyes. “Who says he wants a chance?” Austin had shown as little interest in her as she had in him.

  “I’m not saying he necessarily does.” Peyton opened a bag of powdered sugar and measured it into a bowl. “I’m just saying you’re shutting him down before he can decide whether he does or not. It’s the same thing you’ve done with every guy since Gavin.”

  Leah sucked in a breath. No one had mentioned Gavin in years, so why Peyton thought he had anything to do with anything now was beyond her.

  “I got over Gavin years ago.” Her voice was low, but there was a note of warning in it that she knew Peyton would recognize. And probably ignore.

  “Maybe so.” Peyton raised an eyebrow as if she didn’t entirely believe Leah. “But that doesn’t mean what happened hasn’t affected you on some level. Affected the way you see men.”

  Leah pressed her lips together and pulled out a baking pan. Peyton knew the signal. The conversation was over.

  “Come on, Leah.” Apparently her friend didn’t care about the signal today. “The guy dated you for two years. You thought you were going to get married. And then he decided he wanted to be friends.”

  Leah pushed past Peyton to grab a stick of butter out of the refrigerator.

  “And then―” Peyton wasn’t done yet. “He married someone else three months later. You can’t tell me that didn’t have an impact on you.”

  Leah dropped the cold butter into the pan harder than necessary. “Of course it had an impact on me. Then. Not now.”

  “So you’re telling me that the reason you friend-zone every guy you meet has nothing to do with Gavin?”

  “That’s what I’m telling you.” Why was it so difficult for Peyton to believe that the reason she was just friends with guys was because she was perfectly content as a single woman?

  “Hey, Leah.” Sam’s call from the other side of the kitchen held a note of panic. “I don’t think these Brie tartlets turned out.”

  Leah allowed herself a sigh of relief. She’d never thought she’d be grateful to hear that her star appetizer hadn’t turned out. But anything was better than this conversation.

  Chapter 10

  Austin stared at the front door of Leah’s house. How had she gotten him to agree to do this? And how stupid was he going to sound asking a twelve-year-old kid if he could borrow a cup of sugar?

  Not that it mattered.

  He was only here to do his good deed. He’d check on the kid. Ensure that both he and the house were in one piece. And then he’d get out of there, as fast as he could.

  As he lifted his hand to knock, he steeled himself for the sight of the kid. It’s not Isaad. He repeated it to himself as he waited for Jackson to come to the door. Maybe this way he wouldn’t experience that painful jolt he’d felt every time he’d chanced a glance at the kid last night. The jolt that made him think just for a second that he’d go
ne back in time and Isaad was still alive.

  He knocked again, but no one came to the door. He checked the time on his phone. Almost two o’clock. Even teenagers didn’t sleep this late, did they?

  He pounded on the door again, harder this time, the refrain It’s not Isaad still playing in a loop in his head.

  Another minute went by. Then another.

  He debated. Technically, he’d kept his promise. He’d come over with the intention of asking for a cup of sugar. It wasn’t his fault the kid had refused to answer the door.

  But he’d also promised to let Leah know how it had gone. He could only imagine what would happen if he called and told her he hadn’t seen or heard a sign of her foster son. He’d get yelled at again, for sure.

  He tried the doorknob, but it was locked.

  Great.

  Was he going to have to break in?

  Maybe before taking such drastic measures, he should try the back door. Pulling up his hood against the biting wind, he started around the house.

  The moment he reached the backyard, he spotted Jackson, crouched under the large oak tree at the back of the lot, peering at something in the grass.

  Despite his It’s not Isaad mantra, the initial gut punch of the boy’s dark hair drew Austin up short.

  But as Jackson shifted, Austin got a glimpse of his face.

  Not Isaad.

  The boy glared at him, and Austin considered turning around. He could honestly report to Leah that Jackson was fine. But from the little he knew of her, that wouldn’t be enough. He forced his feet forward.

  Jackson reached into the grass, cupping his hands around something.

  “What you got there?” Austin called out as he drew closer. The minute the words slipped from his mouth, he stopped. That was the first thing he’d ever said to Isaad too. The boy had been holding a rock, and Austin’s first assumption had been that he was about to throw it at the American soldiers. But then the boy had pointed out the flecks of chlorite and serpentine in the stone, and Austin had realized he was a budding geologist. After that, Austin had made it a habit to search for interesting rocks to give the boy, who always knew exactly what they were.

  He shook off the memory. This wasn’t Isaad. It was Jackson. And whatever he was holding definitely wasn’t a rock―it was moving.

  Austin inched closer as Jackson regarded him, suspicion and mistrust fogging the boy’s eyes. He turned his back to Austin, as if trying to protect his secret.

  Austin shuffled closer, catching a glimpse of something squirming in Jackson’s hands. “Is that a baby squirrel?”

  Jackson eyed him again, then looked at his hands, giving a barely perceptible nod.

  Stepping next to the boy, Austin bent to peer more closely. The squirrel fit entirely in Jackson’s palm, a fine layer of fur covering most of its body. Its eyes were closed, as if it had curled up for a nap, and it’s tail―nearly as long as its body―wrapped around its side.

  Austin squinted upward, shielding his eyes as he searched the branches. Finally, he spotted a leafy nest near the top of the tree. “It must have fallen.”

  Too bad there was no way they could get it back up there. Strong as he was getting, there was no way Austin could climb this tree, and he was pretty sure Leah would skin him alive if he sent Jackson that high into the tree, especially considering the way the branches were whipping in today’s wind.

  “I’m going to keep it.” It was the first time Austin had ever heard Jackson speak, and his voice was lower than Austin had expected.

  “You should probably leave it. Its mom will come for it.” Austin turned to leave. He’d done his job. Now he could go home, report to Leah that Jackson was alive and well, and maybe get in another workout before―

  Before what?

  Before he ordered another pizza and sat around all night with nothing to do?

  It wasn’t like his calendar was exactly full.

  “The squirrel’s mom isn’t coming back.” Jackson’s voice jabbed at him, steelier than any twelve-year-old should ever sound.

  Austin turned to the kid. “How do you know?”

  Jackson studied the squirrel. “His body was cold when I picked him up. That means he’s been there a while. If she hasn’t come for him yet, she’s not coming.”

  Austin scrubbed a hand across his short hair, letting it prickle against his fingers. Go home, he told himself. But he couldn’t, not with that half-pleading, half-frightened look Jackson was giving him. Austin sighed. The kid was in foster care. Which meant he probably hadn’t had the best experience with his own parents, right?

  He was going to regret this. He knew he was. But he pulled out his phone and did a quick search for “how to take care of a baby squirrel.” After a few minutes of reading, he looked up. Jackson was still cradling the squirrel, his left hand cupped over his right.

  “It says to put a zipper bag filled with warm water in a box and cover it with a t-shirt and then put it at the base of the tree. That way the baby squirrel will stay warm, and the mom can come and get it.”

  Jackson shot him a challenging look.

  Austin jumped in before he could argue. “You at least have to give her a chance to get her baby.”

  “What if she doesn’t?” There was that hardness again.

  “If she doesn’t, then―” But Austin had no idea what they would do then. He couldn’t go making promises to the neighbor’s kid. But he wasn’t about to be the one to tell him he couldn’t keep the squirrel either. “Then we’ll figure that out when we get to it. Deal?”

  Jackson’s nod was slow but emphatic. “Deal.”

  Satisfied, Austin held out his hand for a quick handshake. “I’ll go get a box.”

  He sent Leah a text on his way back to his house to retrieve the shoe box he’d seen in the hall closet. Everything fine here. Jackson playing outside. No need to freak her out with the news that her foster son was hoping to adopt a squirrel. With any luck, the critter would be back in its nest with its mother within the hour, and he could get back to his own life―or lack thereof.

  But three hours later, he was less optimistic. He and Jackson had been observing the box from inside all afternoon, and so far there hadn’t been any sign of an adult squirrel. The temperature was dropping quickly―they’d already changed the bag of warm water half a dozen times to make sure the little squirrel didn’t freeze―and now snow flurries were starting to fall. And it was getting dark. Austin didn’t dare voice his fear that if the squirrel’s mother didn’t get it soon, it would become a meal for a hawk or a stray dog.

  Jackson had been asking for half an hour already if they could bring the squirrel inside. Finally, Austin had to relent. He had no idea how it would traumatize the kid if the squirrel died―and he didn’t have any interest in finding out.

  As Jackson ran outside to collect the squirrel, Austin tried to figure out how he was going to explain this to Leah.

  He couldn’t quite decide if he dreaded the snap of fire in her eyes when she yelled at him―or if he looked forward to it.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind finishing the cleanup without me?” Leah eyed Sam. Her assistant had only gotten married a few months ago and was probably eager to get home to her husband.

  “For the twentieth time, I’m sure.” Sam shoved Leah toward the door. “We’re almost done. Go home to your son.”

  Leah couldn’t help the grin. Her son. She hadn’t gotten used to those words quite yet, but already she loved the ring of them. And Sam was right, she did feel a strong need to get home and check on Jackson. Austin’s text earlier that Jackson was playing outside had given Leah enough peace of mind to get through the meal. But now that it was over, she wanted to get home and see for herself. Plus, if Jackson had ventured outside, maybe it meant he was over at least some of the sullenness that had followed him around like a chained puppy for the past two days.

  As she drove home, careful not to press her foot to the accelerator too hard in her eagerness, her thoughts
flitted to what Peyton had said earlier. About her friend-zoning guys because of what had happened with Gavin. It was absolute nonsense. Sure, she’d prayed Gavin would be her husband. And after things fell apart with him, she’d prayed that God would give her someone else to love.

  But she’d stopped praying that prayer a long time ago.

  It was clear that God’s plans for her didn’t include marriage. But just because she wasn’t searching for a husband didn’t mean she was deliberately sabotaging any relationship before it started.

  And just because Austin was good looking and seemed fairly kind and even a little funny when he let himself be didn’t mean she had to be interested in him as more than a friend.

  Leah nodded to herself as she pulled into her driveway, vowing to put thoughts of Peyton and Austin and everything else that wasn’t Jackson-related aside for the rest of the night.

  But when she stepped through the door to her house, she realized that was going to be difficult, considering that Austin was sitting on the couch with Jackson. Her heart skipped at the picture of the two of them bent close together, peering into a small shoe box on the cushion between them. Anyone who didn’t know them might assume they were father and son, despite Austin’s light hair and Jackson’s darker locks. They looked up as she closed the door behind her.

  Both wore expressions of mixed guilt and hope.

  “What’s going on?” She concentrated on catching her breath after the surprise of seeing Austin in her house and seeing Jackson anywhere other than his room.

  Austin gestured her over. “Jackson found this little guy on the ground, and he’s taken care of him all afternoon.”

  “Little guy?” Leah took a cautious step closer. She wasn’t sure she wanted to see anything that was described as little guy and fit into a shoe box. What if they had a spider in there?

  Her eyes fell on a nearly naked creature, and she shrieked and jumped back. “Is that a rat?”

  Two snickering laughs greeted her. “It’s a baby squirrel.” Jackson’s voice held a note of duh.

  “Oh.” As long as it wasn’t a rat, she could probably be brave enough to get a little closer. “What’s a baby squirrel doing in my house?”