The Christmas Wife

by Sherry Lewis

  “I didn’t think I’d need one.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t usually, but Homecoming is a different story. We’re full up—or will be in a day or two.”

  Molly stared at her in disbelief while she tried to process that piece of news. “You don’t have any rooms?”

  “I have one for tonight.” Phyllis tapped on her computer keyboard and stared in concentration at the screen. “Looks like I’ll have one Sunday and Monday night, too. But nothing after that until Homecoming Week is over.”

  Molly could have kicked herself for not realizing that lodging might be a problem. “Is there a bed-and-breakfast in town? Or another motel, maybe?”

  “Hon, we’re the only motel for fifty miles in any direction. Joe Walker rents apartments by the month over on Spring Street, but you probably wouldn’t be interested in something that permanent.”

  “I won’t be here that long.”

  “Well, that’s a shame. A real shame. But listen, there’s always a chance that someone will cancel at the last minute or just not show at all. Keep the room until we need it, and we’ll keep our fingers crossed that something will open up, or someone in town will have a room to spare.” She stopped abruptly, sniffed twice and clapped a hand to her bosom. “My applesauce. Can you believe I forgot all about it? You’ll forgive me of course. We’ll talk later, I’m sure.”

  And with that, she was gone.

  Molly stepped out into the dwindling light and stood for a moment, taking in the shadows stretching across the road, the occasional swish of cars passing on the street, the sounds of dogs barking and muted laughter in the distance. She wrapped her arms around herself and pulled in a deep breath of fall-scented air.

  The one thing she didn’t smell was the distinctive and unmistakable aroma of cooking apples. She had no idea what had made Phyllis so nervous or why she’d lie to avoid discussing the night Molly’s mother died…but she intended to find out.

  SHORTLY BEFORE NOON the next day, Molly walked quickly along Front Street toward the Chicken Inn. She’d spent the evening trying to find another place to stay in case she had to leave the Wagon Wheel, but everyone she knew had family coming in or homes too small.

  Molly refused to be discouraged. There was a solution out there. She just had to find it. And maybe her friend Elaine would have some good news for her at lunch.

  A weak storm had moved into the valley overnight. Clouds had turned the sky a heavy, gunmetal gray, and without even the autumn sun to warm it, the air in the valley had become almost frigid. She shivered and hunched more deeply into her favorite sweater, but it didn’t help.

  She considered going back for the car, but she was almost halfway to the restaurant, so she walked faster, keeping her head down to protect her face from the cold. When she reached an intersection, she looked up long enough to check for traffic, then protected her face again.

  As she passed the FoodWay grocery store, she caught sight of a green Cherokee slowly making its way along Front Street toward her.

  A chill gust of wind swept around her ankles and sent a shiver up her spine, but she couldn’t make herself move. Beau pulled to the curb a few feet away from her and got out. He strode toward her, grinning as if he was really glad to see her. “Doing a bit of sightseeing?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Not exactly. I’m on my way to the Chicken Inn. What are you doing out and about on a Sunday? I thought you’d be with your kids.”

  “Family dinner at Mom’s. She needs whipping cream, and I volunteered to go get it.” He slid a slow glance along the length of her. “Do you want to join us? There’s plenty.”

  “Thanks, but I’m meeting Elaine for lunch.”

  “Sounds fun. What are you doing later?”

  Molly shrugged. “Hopefully finding someplace to stay.”

  “I thought you were comfortable at the Wagon Wheel.”

  “I am, but I didn’t exactly think ahead. I have a room through Monday night, and then, if nobody cancels, I’m out on the streets.”

  Beau glanced down at her. “You didn’t have a reservation?”

  “I didn’t think I’d need one.”

  “For Homecoming Week? You really have forgotten what things are like around here, haven’t you? There are three times of the year when the motel fills up early—all fifteen rooms. You have to plan in advance for Homecoming, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The rest of the year, you’re fine to take a chance.”

  The breeze blew hair into her eyes and she swept it back with one hand. “I wish I’d known. Now that I’m here, I don’t want to miss all the fun.”

  “You can’t miss it. That’s not even an option. I have it on good authority that this is going to be one of the finest Homecoming Weeks Serenity has ever had, no matter what you might think after that meeting yesterday. There has to be someplace you can stay. I’d ask Mom, but my cousins are staying with her, and Gwen’s sister-in-law and her family are going to be at Gwen and Riley’s.”

  “That’s the story I’m getting from everybody. Jennifer Grant offered me her couch. I can take that if I can’t find anything else, but with a husband and four kids in a three-bedroom house, they’re bursting at the seams. I hate to impose.”

  “It’s a small house, that’s for sure.” A car rounded the corner and he instinctively put an arm around her to pull her farther away from the curb.

  Feeling warm beneath his touch, she drew away casually. “I’m not giving up, though. Besides, Phyllis says that someone might cancel.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it. But I’m sure there’s another solution. I can make a few calls if you’d like. I have friends in high places…sort of.”

  Molly caught another wisp of hair and pushed it back from her face. “I’ve seen how influential you are, and I’d appreciate the help. I’ve about exhausted my connections. I just hope you have better luck than I’ve had.”

  He frowned in mock annoyance. “You doubt me?”

  She laughed lightly. “Umm…no?”

  “Excellent answer.” He hooked his thumbs in his back pockets and surveyed the world around him for a long moment. “Tell me how you’d feel about staying in a cabin.”

  “Does it have a bed?”

  “Yep.”

  “Then I’d feel very happy if it’s not too expensive.”

  “How does ‘free’ work into your budget?”

  “Free?” She eyed him skeptically. “Almost too well. I don’t want to take advantage of anyone.”

  “Right. But that’s not a problem. This place has its own kitchen, but you’d have to go to the main house for bathroom privileges and the shower. It’s a guest bath, though, so it would be almost like having your own.”

  “Sounds too good to be true. Do you really think I could get it?”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it. The place is a little dusty. It hasn’t been used in a while. But it wouldn’t take long to spruce it up.”

  “Maybe you should check first,” Molly suggested. “I don’t want to get my hopes up for nothing. Whose cabin is it?”

  “It belongs to a real nice family.” A strong gust of wind whipped around them, and he took a couple of steps toward the Cherokee, walking backward so he didn’t have to break eye contact. “A single dad with two great kids.”

  Molly gaped at him. “You?”

  “It’s the original house my grandparents built when they bought the farm. You remember it?”

  “I don’t want to be rude,” Molly said, “but all I remember is a tumbledown old shack behind your house. Is that what you’re talking about?”

  “It’s not so bad. We’ve done a little work on it since you were here last. I used to sleep there sometimes before Heather and I split up. The only inconvenience is having to cross the yard to use the bathroom, but it’s not far.”

  Molly didn’t know what to say. Surely he didn’t expect her to stay in a falling-down old shed, so it must be habitable. She needed a place to stay, but she wasn’t sure she’d relax for a second at Beau�
�s. When he didn’t break into laughter or wave off the suggestion as a joke, she forced herself to speak. “I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, for one thing, what would your kids think?”

  “It’s just for a couple of weeks. They’d be fine.”

  Molly still wasn’t sold. “There’d be gossip,” she reminded him.

  “So? You need a place to stay. I have one. It’s no big deal. Don’t make it one.”

  Heat rushed into her cheeks, but he didn’t seem to notice. She opened her mouth to argue with him, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “I thought you wanted to find out about your mom’s accident,” Beau reminded her. “Isn’t that worth staying for?”

  “Yes. Of course it is. But—”

  “Okay, then. So you’ll stay. If you want privacy, you’ve got it. If you want a friend, you’ve got that, too. Sound like something you can live with?”

  She stared at him, still unable to make herself say yes.

  Laughing softly, he swung away. “Think about it as long as you want to,” he called back over his shoulder. “You know where to find me when you make up your mind.”

  She stood frozen, watching him cross the street and stride through the supermarket’s parking lot past one car after another. He waved at someone in a pickup truck and stopped to chat with an elderly woman who came outside just as he reached the doors.

  Molly couldn’t take her eyes off him, but he never once looked back. She told herself that staying in his cabin would be wrong, wrong, wrong. She even argued with herself for a full ten minutes, but there was never any contest. In the end, she did exactly what Beau knew she would do—she crossed the parking lot and stepped into the FoodWay, telling herself that if this turned out badly, she had only herself to blame.

  “I KNEW IT!” Brianne shouted as Beau cleared away dishes after dinner the next evening. She stood so quickly her chair toppled to the floor behind her. “You lied to me, didn’t you?”

  “I told you the truth.” Beau stashed the plates next to the sink and turned back for more. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Oh, yeah. Like I’m going to believe that.” Her cheeks were flushed and her small chest heaved with emotion. “You can’t let some stranger stay in the cabin. All Mom’s stuff is in there.”

  Beau glanced at Nicky, who watched his sister closely but didn’t seem to share her outrage. “We can move Mom’s stuff,” Beau said. “There aren’t that many boxes. They’ll fit in the equipment shed.”

  “I don’t want to put Mom’s things in the stupid equipment shed!” Brianne shouted. “There’re spiders in there.”

  “I’ll spray.”

  Brianne wrestled with her chair for a moment and finally got it back on its feet. “You want to move Mom’s things, don’t you? I heard Gram say that you probably wanted to throw everything away.”

  “Well, Gram’s wrong.” The muscles in Beau’s jaw knotted painfully, but he took a deep breath and picked up the bowls that had held cheese, onion and tomato respectively. “But maybe it’s time for us to realize that Mom doesn’t want the stuff she left behind.”

  “She does so want it! There are things I made for her in there. Pictures Nicky drew. The candleholder I gave her for Christmas, even. She’ll be really mad if you throw all that away.”

  Hope and defiance mingled in Brianne’s expression, and even Nicky’s wide blue eyes filled with worry. Beau turned away so the kids couldn’t see the weariness in his own eyes. “You’re right, honey. I don’t know what I was thinking. We’ll keep Mom’s things safe and sound for her. Where do you think we should put them?”

  “They should stay where they are. In the cabin.”

  “Then we’ll put them back after Molly leaves. She’s only staying for a couple of weeks, not forever.”

  Brianne dropped heavily into her chair and propped her feet against Beau’s empty one, pushing on it until it teetered dangerously on two legs. “She should stay at the motel. Why can’t she do that?”

  A wave of exhaustion nearly convinced Beau to leave the dishes, but he forced himself to keep working. “She can’t stay at the motel because she didn’t make a reservation. Mrs. Graham doesn’t have a room for her after tonight.”

  “So?”

  “So she came all this way for Homecoming, and it would be mean to make her leave over some simple mistake.”

  Brianne pulled her feet away and the empty chair rocked back onto all four legs. “So what? It was her mistake.”

  Beau shut off the water and strode over to look his daughter in the eye. “What’s going on with you, Brianne?”

  Her gaze swung to his face, then away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean that you’ve never been rude or mean to me or to anyone else, but lately that’s all you are. I know you’re unhappy with me for changing the arrangement we had with Gram, and I was willing to give you a little time to adjust. But enough is enough. It’s time to get over it.”

  She shot to her feet and glared at him, hands on hips and thunder in her eyes. “You don’t get it, do you. I don’t want to get over it. I don’t want everything to change all the time. First Mom left, and then you told Gram to go away, and now you’re bringing that lady to live here. Well, it’s not fair, and it’s not right. I don’t want to be nice, and you can’t make me.” She raced from the room, heading for the stairs.

  Angry and confused, Beau took off after her. If he lived to be a thousand, he’d never understand females, no matter what age they were. Brianne was already halfway up the stairs by the time he reached the hallway. “Get back here,” he demanded. “I’m not through talking to you.”

  “Well, I’m through talking to you.” She raced up the last few steps and bolted for her room. “Just leave me alone, Daddy. Find somebody else to help you get rid of Mom’s stuff because I’m not going to.”

  Beau took the steps two at a time, but Brianne’s door slammed shut before he could reach the top of the staircase. He stopped in his tracks and stood, panting and uncertain, staring at the unyielding slab of wood that separated him from his daughter.

  He argued with himself for a moment about what he should do. He didn’t want to be too lenient and let Brianne grow into one of those teenagers, but he wasn’t going to force his way into her room and make her talk to him. Even if he’d been that kind of dad, he had no idea what he’d say to her right now.

  As he started back down the stairs, the telephone rang. He was in no mood to talk to anybody, but he had too many irons in the fire to ignore the call. He made it into his study by the third ring and recognized the number of the mechanic in Jackson when he glanced at his caller ID.

  Finally some good news—he hoped. Pushing aside his irritation with Brianne, he lifted the cordless phone and punched the talk button. “Smitty? That you?”

  “The one and only. I tried you at the airstrip, but I didn’t get an answer.”

  “Not much reason to hang around there when I don’t have an airplane.” Beau dropped into his chair and nudged open a bottom drawer to use as a footrest. Overhead, music blared to life inside Brianne’s sanctuary. “Just tell me you have good news.”

  “I guess that depends on what you consider ‘good.’ I’m going to need to replace the magneto on your Cessna. The part’s available, but I can’t get it here for a couple of days.”

  Beau ignored the driving bass beat overhead and kneaded his forehead with his fingertips. “Why so long?”

  “They have to fly it in from New Mexico.”

  “Which should take a few hours at most,” Beau said sharply. “Certainly not longer than overnight.”

  “In a perfect world, maybe. They’ll ship the part out on Wednesday. We should have it by Thursday or Friday.”

  “That leaves me out of commission for a full week.”

  “Sorry. Can’t be helped.”

  Beau leaned back in his chair as the music overhead grew louder and a high-pit
ched sound track from a video game filtered out from the family room, where Nicky was obviously honing his hand-eye coordination.

  He tuned out the slight ache forming behind his eyes and focused on what Smitty was saying. No plane meant no income. No income, no business.

  “Just tell me I’ll be back in business by Friday.”

  “That’ll depend on the manpower I have when the part gets here. I know you need your plane, but I got two mechanics out with some kind of kick-ass flu and the other one’s got a baby due any day now. No tellin’ where he’ll be when the part arrives.”

  “What about you, Smitty? Or are you just window dressing these days?”

  “I’d make some mighty sorry window dressing,” Smitty said with a chuckle. “I could do it for you, and I will if it comes to that, but I’ve got other jobs ahead of you. First come, first serve. That’s always been my policy.”

  “You’d make an exception if I were one of those celebrity clients of yours. What if I told you I’m supposed to fly Mel Gibson to a location shoot near Yellowstone?”

  Smitty laughed again. “I’d say you were a bad liar.”

  “Yeah? Well, this honesty thing is a real curse sometimes.” Brianne turned her music a little higher, and something on the wall began to buzz. “How about if I remind you that we’ve been friends for about a hundred years?”

  “Well, then, I’d buy you a drink if you stop lying to me. But I still wouldn’t move you ahead of my other clients. We’ll get you up and running as soon as we can, Beau. I can’t promise you anything more than that.”

  Beau closed his eyes in frustration, but he was smart enough to recognize a brick wall when he ran into one, and old enough to have learned the futility of going to battle against one. “You’ll call me?”

  “The very second I can tell you anything.”

  It wasn’t much, but apparently it was all he was going to get. Even worse, it was the best thing that had happened all night. People had always seen him as lucky, but lately he couldn’t seem to catch a break to save his life.

  Something had to give—and soon.