by Lisa Crane
“I was…surprised,” he said lamely.
Riley held up a hand, forestalling more insults from his angry wife. He turned to Travis.
“You should know, Brooke didn’t want to go on the date with Rafa,” Riley said. “Yeah, we know, nobody forced her to go along with it.” His tone was bitingly sarcastic. “But she didn’t like it, and she was going to tell you the night of the tree lighting ceremony. The day after her one and only fake date. She told us that day at work.”
“Anything Brooke did that you believe was deceitful,” Jazz said, “she did because she trusted me.” Jazz pointed at herself. “So yes, I have to bear some of the blame for this mess. But you are the one who has to fix it.”
“Will you help me?” Travis asked, an idea slowly forming in his head.
“Tell us what you’re thinking,” Riley hedged.
“Is the bakery open tomorrow?”
“Until two,” Jazz answered. “Why?”
Travis gave them a rough outline of his plan. By the time he left their house, it was nearing midnight. He wanted nothing more than to rush home and pound on Brooke’s door. He wanted to drag her into his arms and beg her forgiveness. He wanted to kiss her senseless. Instead, he went inside his own house and finalized his plans for the following day.
Chapter 37
The next day, it was shortly before noon when Riley called Brooke to the front of the bakery. He handed her a bag from a nearby deli. Brooke stared at it, her expression blank.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It was just delivered,” Riley answered. “The guy said it was for you. I thought you ordered lunch.”
“I didn’t order anything.”
“Well, that’s weird.” He called to Jazz in her office. “Jazz did you order anything from Dillman’s?”
“No, why?” she called back without leaving the office.
“Nothing to worry about, love.”
Riley turned back to Brooke. He gestured at the bag.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It looks like…chicken salad,” Brooke said, frowning curiously. “And there’s a note, too.”
“Ooh, a mystery!” Riley said, grinning and rubbing his hands together. Brooke couldn’t help smiling. “What’s the note say? Read it!”
Brooke read aloud, “It’s too late for the twelve days of Christmas. I’ll have to make do with twelve hours. And on such short notice, Dillman’s chicken salad on a bed of baby greens is as close as I can get to a partridge in a pear tree.” She looked up at Riley. “This is just weird.”
“You might as well enjoy the salad,” Riley suggested, grinning. “Dillman’s makes the best chicken salad!”
An hour later, a pretty little box arrived at the bakery. Inside lay two decadent caramel turtle candies. Jazz eyed them with envy until Brooke handed her one with a little roll of her eyes. Under the candies was another note. Again, she read it out loud.
“I assumed you wouldn’t want two birds hanging around the bakery, so I hope these turtle candies will suffice to replace the two turtle doves.” She looked up at Jazz and Riley. “Are you two doing this? Is this some attempt to cheer me up?” She gave them a sad little smile. “I know I haven’t been very good company lately.”
“Seriously?” Jazz asked sarcastically. “You saw me scarf down that turtle! Do you really think I’d be giving them away?”
“If not you two, then who?”
“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” Riley suggested. “Maybe one of our customers has taken a shine to you.”
“Yeah,” Brooke mused, pretending deep thought. “Probably that creepy little guy with the comb-over. The one who always smells like wet dog and glue.”
“Ugh. Doubtful.”
Shortly before the bakery closed at two, a third delivery arrived. This one was a box that felt as if it were empty. Brooke pulled it open and carefully pulled out a handful of tissue paper. Nestled inside the red and green paper was a Christmas ornament; it was a delicate blown glass rendition of the Statue of Liberty. Brooke held it up for Jazz and Riley’s inspection.
“I get it!” Riley crowed. “The Statue of Liberty was a gift to the US from France, remember? Three French hens? Get it?”
“It’s a stretch, but yes,” Brooke said. She smiled as she put the ornament back into its little protective nest in the box. “Well, this has been interesting, but I don’t even have a Christmas tree. Besides, it’s time to close, so whoever my benefactor is will be able to save some time and money now. No more gifts.”
When Brooke reached her house, she stared at her front porch. An enormous Noble fir leaned against the railing. Brooke climbed slowly out of her car and approached the porch as if expecting someone or something to spring from behind the tree.
“It was delivered a few hours ago.”
Brooke turned to see Nick Rodgers standing beside her. He smiled.
“It’s a beautiful tree,” he said. “Where’d you find it?”
“I – I didn’t,” Brooke answered.
“Really?” Nick looked back at the tree. “Hey, look, there’s a card!”
Nick plucked the red envelope from the branches and handed it to Brooke. Still staring at the tree, she pulled the card out. In the same neat print as the other gifts, the card read simply, “This goes with the ornament.”
“Can I help you carry it inside?” Nick asked.
“I, um, guess so,” Brooke said uncertainly.
At three o’clock, Brooke received a text message on her phone. It came from a number she didn’t recognize and consisted of only four words: Look on your porch. Curiosity burning now, Brooke opened her front door. She looked around, but saw nothing. She was about to close the door again, feeling inexplicably disappointed, when she looked down. At her feet lay a cell phone and a green envelope. She picked them up, looking down the road that led away from her and Travis Cooper’s houses. No vehicles were in sight. Brooke closed the door and opened the green envelope.
“This may not be four calling birds,” she read, “but you could certainly make a lot of calls using this phone. Maybe you can get rid of that paperweight you carry in your purse. P.S. Don’t worry about the bill.”
Brooke looked at the phone. Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked at the messaging application; the text message she’d received was sent from this phone. It was one of the latest phones, a device with more bells and whistles than Brooke knew how to use. With a self-mocking smile, she murmured, “Maybe the next gift will be the user manual.”
Uncertain what to do with the phone, Brooke set it down on the coffee table. She went about her business, all the while wondering who was behind the unusual, albeit clever, gifts.
At four o’clock, Brooke wasn’t completely surprised when the new cell phone on the table emitted a sound like sleigh bells. A new text message. Porch, please.
On the front porch sat five large boxes, all wrapped in various gold paper. Again, Brooke looked down the road, but it was empty. She took the lid off the box closest to the door. Sure enough, there was a note.
“Five golden boxes, I hope that will do in place of five golden rings,” Brooke read, smirking a bit as she did. “I didn’t want your tree to look like a Charlie Brown tree.”
Brooke looked inside the box and gasped. Several spools of white lights lay in the box. Another contained silver and gold garland. The third held a lovely skirt for the bottom of the tree. The remaining two boxes held silver and gold ornaments in various shapes and sizes. One by one, Brooke carried the boxes inside. Not knowing what else to do, she began to hang the lights on the tree, using a stepladder to get to the uppermost branches.
As she worked, Brooke smiled. She was certain Jazz and Riley were behind the gifts, no matter what they said. Actually, now that she thought of it, they hadn’t actually denied it, they just hadn’t admitted it. There was a slight difference. Besides, who else would know so much about her to be able to give her these gifts? Brooke had to admit, she apprec
iated their efforts, prompted by their love and concern for her. She also realized her spirits felt slightly brighter than they had in weeks.
Brooke completely lost track of the time and when she heard sleigh bells again, she started; she was still working on decorating her Christmas tree. She picked up the phone.
“Jazz, what can you possibly do for six geese a-laying?” Brooke chuckled to herself as she looked at the phone.
Porch, was all the message said this time. Jazz must be getting tired of sending them. Brooke opened the door. Once again, she didn’t see anything at first. She looked down to see a small black velvet box. Gasping, she stooped and picked it up, opening it quickly. Inside lay a pair of earrings. As Brooke stared at the two large egg-shaped pearls, the first doubts began creeping into her thoughts. She couldn’t imagine Jazz and Riley buying these for her. But who else?
Brooke chanced a quick look at Travis’ house. He wasn’t even home, and more importantly, the last time they’d talked, Travis had left her with no doubt about his feelings. He’d not buy her a can of rubbery smoked oysters, much less this amazing pair of pearls! Who could be behind these gifts?
Six o’clock brought a beautiful comb for her hair. The comb, in keeping with the next verse – seven swans a-swimming – was shaped like a delicate feather. The silver sparkled in the lights from Brooke’s tree. She was getting a little concerned. Then she caught herself and laughed; she wasn’t really the kind of woman to inspire a stalker, now was she? This had to be someone she knew. But who?
Seven o’clock rolled around and a very fancy box appeared on Brooke’s front porch. Hesitantly, Brooke opened the box, recognizing it as a dress box. She carefully folded the tissue paper back to reveal a black dress. Brooke snatched the folded note up and read it.
“A pretty maid needs a pretty dress to wear for a special evening. P.S. Not suitable for milking cows.”
Brooke giggled. She laid the note aside and lifted the dress out. Her smile faded; the dress was beautiful! As she held it in front of her, the new cell phone rang out again. Brooke looked at the display. Does it fit? Brooke looked at the size on the dress, dismayed to see it was a size smaller than the blue dress she’d thrown out after Thanksgiving. There was no way the beautiful dress was going to fit her. Sighing, she hung the dress on her closet door without trying it on.
Brooke returned to the living room, planning to sit down and enjoy staring at her very own Christmas tree. She had just sat down when the cell phone chimed merrily again. Brooke picked it up and read the message. Door please.
Shaking her head, Brooke opened the front door. Two boxes and two envelopes sat on the porch. Brooke didn’t even bother to look around this time; she simply picked up the gifts and carried them inside. She figured if her benefactor meant to harm her, she’d already be lying in a puddle of blood on her front porch. Brooke snickered at her own dark thoughts as she set the boxes down on the coffee table.
The boxes and envelopes appeared to be numbered nine through twelve. She opened the largest box to reveal a lovely pair of black satin sandals. The narrow straps were decorated with sparkling rhinestones. The note in the bottom of the box said simply, Dancing shoes. Ah, Brooke remembered, for nine ladies dancing.
The box that bore the number ten contained makeup very similar to the pots and tubes Brooke had thrown out. She noted there were also some sparkly eye shadows and a glittery powder this time. The note read, You’re already more than beautiful and sexy enough to make this lord’s heart leap, but I understand girls like this sort of thing.
The phone chimed and Brooke realized her anticipation was nearly unbearable. She looked at the phone and read the message. Almost ready? What does that mean, she wondered. Ready for what? Was she supposed to be putting these things on, getting dressed for something? And what was she supposed to do about that too-small dress?
Uncertainly, Brooke carried the phone, the shoes, the makeup, the comb and the earrings to her bedroom. Quickly, she made up her face, lightly dusting her skin with the sparkly powder. She combed her hair, scooped it back on one side of her face, and stuck the silver feather comb into it. Cringing, she took the black dress from its hanger, unzipped it and stepped into it. The taffeta slid easily up over her hips; Brooke reached to her side and pulled up the zipper. She stared at herself in the mirror. It fit! The dress fit her perfectly! A tiny voice in Brooke’s head whispered, And you look beautiful!
Brooke buckled the strappy black sandals on her feet and sat on her bed with the last two gifts. She opened the red envelope marked with a bold eleven. She read the note, her voice just above a whisper, In case you hadn’t noticed, I stepped up the timetable a bit. It’s not exactly pipers piping, but there’s a little Christmas concert I think you’ll enjoy, if you’ll be my guest. Just walk outside and you’ll see what’s next. Oh, and don’t open the last envelope yet. You’ll know when it’s time.
On slightly unsteady legs, Brooke walked to her front door and opened it. While she’d gotten dressed, a long, sleek limousine had appeared in her driveway. A uniformed driver waited beside the car. He smiled and gave Brooke a tiny bow.
“If you please, Miss Valentine,” he said, opening the back door for her.
“Who – um, who’s behind all this, do you know?”
The man simply smiled and gestured to the back seat. Brooke knew she was taking a chance, but for some reason, she felt compelled to get into that limo and follow this to its end. She slid into the soft leather seat, the green envelope in her hand. The driver got behind the wheel and drove away from Brooke’s house.
Sitting in the back seat of the limousine, Brooke felt like a celebrity. She’d never experienced anything like this, and she could only hope it ended as well as it had progressed throughout the afternoon. She’d had fun, she had to admit, but she was still dying to know who was behind this elaborate adventure.
When the limousine slowed to a stop, Brooke looked around. A park? This was where the adventure ended? And a dark park, at that! The driver got out and opened the back door. Brooke looked at him uncertainly.
“Are you sure…?” she began.
“Yes, Miss Valentine,” he said smiling. He offered a hand and helped her out. He then pointed to a barely visible gazebo. “You’re supposed to go there. Just follow the path. You’ll be fine.”
“Are you – will you still be here?”
“Yes, Miss, but you won’t need me.”
Brooke took a few slow steps toward the shadowy gazebo. She stopped and looked back at the driver. He smiled, then snapped his fingers.
“Oh!” he said. “You’ll need this!”
He handed Brooke a small object. She looked at it, recognizing the small sort of light used by ushers in theaters. She used the light to make her way to the darkened gazebo. When she reached the gazebo she turned in a slow circle. Nothing. She didn’t see a single thing to indicate she should be here. After a moment, a thought occurred to her.
Chapter 38
“The card, you idiot!” she murmured to herself. She was surprised to see her fingers were shaking as she opened the envelope; it had nothing to do with the chilly evening. Brooke opened the card and read silently, The only drumming you’ll hear tonight is the beating of my heart. When I see your smile, when I hear your laughter, the way you toss your hair back, everything about you sets my heart to pounding madly. Brooke became aware that music had begun playing softly, swelling a little as she read. She couldn’t tell from where the sound came. She continued reading, I’m sorry it took me so long to realize you are the only Christmas gift I’ll ever need.
“Hello?” Brooke called hesitantly.
Suddenly the gazebo was ablaze with thousands of tiny white lights. In the shadows, Brooke spotted the source of the music, a string quartet seated on folding chairs. Three men appeared; two carried a small round table, the third carried two more chairs. As soon as the table was set up, two waiters appeared; they quickly laid the table for two. Two more waiters appeared; each one set
a domed tray at each place. One of them gestured gallantly and pulled a chair out for Brooke, who sat, still bemused.
Brooke’s heart was pounding. A tiny part of her thought she might know who was behind the gifts. The bigger part of her, however, was afraid to hope. She looked around, still trying to find the sender of all the gifts. From the shadows, a figure emerged. Brooke’s eyes widened.
Travis Cooper stood before her in a tuxedo that could only have been made for him. His blue eyes gleamed with an intense heat that threatened to ignite Brooke’s very being. Slowly, she rose. Travis stopped when he stood before her.
“Travis, what –“ she began.
“Wait, Brooke,” he interrupted her. He placed a gentle finger against her lips. “Hear me out. Please. Then decide if you’ll accept the last gift.” He took a deep breath. “I messed up, Brooke. I let my stupid pride blind me to what was right in front of me, and I’m sorry. You overheard me tell Will that you aren’t my type, but that wasn’t exactly the truth. The truth is, the women I’ve always dated, women like Lorna and your so-called friend, Blair, aren’t the right women for me. You are exactly my type, Brooke. It’s taken me a while, but I realize, I love you.” Brooke gasped; Travis ignored the little sound and continued. “Brooke, the past few weeks without you have been the longest, most miserable days of my life! I missed everything about you! I missed your smile, your laugh, the way you blush sometimes…I’ve missed your kiss, Brooke. I’ve missed you.”
“Oh, Travis,” Brooke sighed. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”
“Stop,” he said, placing his finger against her lips again. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Travis heard his voice crack; he cleared his throat and went on. “It was all me and my stupid pride and arrogance. I was so busy convincing myself I was doing a good deed, taking care of the little sister next door, I was fighting my attraction to you. When I realized I’d fallen very hard for you, and especially for Jazz’s little trick, I was…well, I was embarrassed that everyone else but me seemed to know I was in love with you.”