The Christmas Catch

by Ginny Baird

  “Nice,” Christine said to herself.

  She decided to let Tyler rest on the sofa while she settled in. After laying him down and covering him with a handy throw blanket, she perused the rest of the place. The kitchen was expansive and well equipped, and the three bedrooms upstairs were every bit as comfortable, with four-poster beds and huge down comforters. From each window, visions of a winter wonderland beckoned her to run outside and play. Christine felt her inner child delight in the thought of making snowmen and snow angels, then racing indoors to hot cocoa and homemade cookies. Maybe Ellen was more right about this trip than she knew. A fresh change in scenery and limited interruptions could set just the right stage for quality Mommy and Tyler time.

  A little while later, Christine sat at the large farm table near the front of the great room sipping her coffee and studying directions to the local market. Tyler stirred, then sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning.

  “Where are we?” he asked, clutching Jasper.

  “Winterhaven.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s where we’re staying, baby. What do you think?”

  He looked around, still a little dazed.

  “Where’s the TV?”

  “I don’t think there is one.”

  His small lips pulled into a pout.

  “What’s there to do?”

  “Plenty! There are puzzles over there in the cupboard. Legos, Lincoln Logs…”

  “Lincoln who?” he asked, astounded.

  “I’ll show you, honey. It’s fun.”

  Unconvinced, Tyler scooped his little backpack off the floor and extracted a portable video game. Next, he dug out its charger, settling back on the sofa to survey the surrounding lamps. “Least there’s ’lectricity.”

  Christine studied her son, thinking he was a tad too modern for his own good. She had to admit, though, that even she’d forgotten about old-fashioned fun stuff like roasting marshmallows until she’d walked in here. “You hungry?” she queried, thinking he must be.

  Dark eyes lit up. “Deep-dish Chicago pizza?”

  “Not here.”

  “Oh,” he said, disappointed.

  Christine folded the map in her hands, noting the snow had stopped outside. It was likely a temporarily lull in the weather. Best to take advantage while they could.

  “I was just reading about the local market. I’m not sure if they’ll have pizza, but they’re bound to have provisions. How about you and I head over there and check it out?”

  Chapter Three

  Christine halted her brimming shopping cart in the aisle as Tyler dropped in a huge bag of marshmallows. They were at Mac’s Market, the sole grocers in the tiny village on the outskirts of Burlington. Already they had chocolate bars and graham crackers. Their list was nearly complete. “Can’t forget the cocoa,” she said, smiling at her son. She reached for it but it was high on a shelf, all the way to the back.

  “Here, let me help with that,” a familiar masculine voice said over her shoulder.

  Christine heard a happy bark and turned to find the man from the road behind her. He wore winter boots, jeans, and a gray college sweatshirt beneath his open parka. Up close and personal, he looked even better than he had outdoors, his short dark hair and ruddy complexion a heady complement to his eyes.

  “Well, hello,” he said with a smile. Mason wriggled on his haunches beside him, wagging his tail. Tyler stared up at the guy and his jaw dropped.

  “Are you really an angel?”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “Mommy says you’re an angel.”

  Christine felt her face flush. “Oh no, I think he misunderstood. I was just… What I mean is…” She glanced down at Mason, then up at him, amazed. “They let dogs in here?”

  The man leaned forward with a confidential whisper. “He doesn’t know he’s a dog. He thinks he’s a college student.”

  Why did the mention of college spark some vague recognition? Christine’s eyes locked on his sweatshirt. “Carolina?” she asked with surprise.

  “The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill,” he said with pride.

  “No way.”

  “Way.”

  “You went there?”

  “Most certainly did.”

  “Small world.”

  “And you?”

  She looked at him and smiled. “I know why the sky’s Carolina blue.”

  “God’s a Tar Heel,” he said with a laugh.

  Tyler studied him with awe. “I thought you might know God.”

  The man eyed Tyler curiously. “Here,” he said to Christine, “let me help you with that cocoa.” He reached for it and easily took it from the shelf, handing it to her. She accepted it, inexplicably spellbound as his blue eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “You know, I never got the chance to thank you for our daring rescue.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t so daring,” he said.

  “We could have been stuck there for hours.”

  “How’s the SUV holding up?”

  “As long as I stay on the road it works like a charm.”

  They shared a bout of companionable laughter, then stood there staring at each other as if each wanted to speak but neither could think up anything to say.

  “Well, I guess that’s it, then,” Christine offered awkwardly. “We’d best finish up. It’s been a long day.”

  “Of course.”

  John thoughtfully watched them walk away, feeling an unfamiliar tug in his chest. She was just some girl from Carolina. So what if she’d wound up in Vermont? That didn’t mean she’d be interested, and certainly didn’t indicate she was available. Mason stood beside him, itching to follow after the woman and her son. How come his dog always knew things he didn’t?

  “You know I was thinking,” John called out.

  She turned on her heels, her cheeks flushed.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “You were?”

  “I mean, I meant to tell you... wanted to say, it was really great running into you.”

  Boy, was she a looker with those big, dark eyes and neatly compact figure. She was even prettier than he’d given her credit for in the SUV.

  “Yeah, you too. But, you know, I was wondering…” Mason interjected a happy bark, not wanting to be left out. “My dog and I were wondering… what’s a Carolina girl like you doing all the way up here?”

  “I’m a Chicago girl now,” she said, taking her son’s hand.

  “The question stands.”

  “We’re house-sitting for a friend,” she said with a sweet smile. “And you?”

  John shifted on his feet, feeling as if she were assessing him. He’d probably forgotten to shave or something. “I teach over at the college.” He mentally kicked himself for the one little detail that had slipped his mind. “My apologies,” he said extending his hand. “I never introduced myself. I’m John Steadman.”

  She stepped forward to accept his grip and John caught a whiff of her perfume. She smelled all sweet and womanly, like a field full of wildflowers in summertime.

  “Christine White. Nice to meet you.”

  Soulful dark eyes met his and John felt the back of his neck flash hot. There was a tug at his sleeve and John looked down.

  “I’m Tyler!” the little boy said, bouncing on his heels.

  John kneeled to greet him at eye level, man to man.

  “Good to know ya, little fellow,” he said, firmly shaking Tyler’s hand. “You taking good care of your mom?”

  Tyler nodded solemnly and John chuckled.

  “Well, keep up the good work!”

  Mason held up a paw in Tyler’s direction. John glanced at Christine for her approval, got it, then looked at the boy. “Seems like Mason wants to shake hands, too.”

  Ten minutes later, they stood in the snow outside the rental SUV where John had helped load groceries in the back. While it had been fun running into them, John didn’t have the nerve to suggest seeing them again. What kin
d of sense would that make? Christine and Tyler were bound to have made their own vacation plans, and John had plenty to take care of too.

  “You and Tyler take care, Christine,” John said, waving good-bye.

  “Thanks, you too,” she said through her open window. Tyler raised a mitten and called good-bye to the dog as they backed out and slowly pulled away.

  John watched their taillights fade as Mason stood by with a sullen expression.

  “Don’t look so down, fellow,” John told him, stroking his head. “Santa’s coming soon.”

  The dog gave him a sideways glance like he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. Okay, so maybe he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but that didn’t mean he had to act on it.

  “And none of that nonsense about how I should have gotten her number,” John scolded, adjusting his parka. “I have a very occupied life.”

  But Mason just ignored him and loped through the snow toward their truck.

  Chapter Four

  Christine whisked about the kitchen, talking on her cell while she fixed dinner. A pot of chili simmered on the stove as she mixed a cornbread batter. The snow had started up again outside, beating down harder than ever, but they were snug inside their getaway. “Hang on, Ellen,” she said into the receiver. “Just let me check on Ty a sec.” She peered through the swinging door to find him happily engaged in a game of Legos by the fire.

  “So?” Ellen asked as Christine popped the cornbread pan in the oven. “Is it as lovely as I said?”

  “Just beautiful,” Christine answered, gazing out the window. “And very, very cold.”

  “I wish I could sympathize…” Christine heard a low murmuring in the background. It was Ellen’s voice, soft and sultry. “A little more on the shoulders, honey?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t get that.”

  “I was just saying I’m enjoying the warmth down here.” She giggled and Christine could have sworn she heard the tinkling of a tropical drink in her hand. She even bet it held a little paper umbrella. She could just see Ellen in that tiny bikini wearing a big straw hat and gigantic dark glasses. “Cancun’s been incredibly welcoming.”

  The man Ellen was with was bound to be scorching hot. It wasn’t like Christine hadn’t met her own share of hunks, as well. “I know what you mean,” she said in a mysterious tone. “Vermont’s been friendly, too.”

  There was a subtle slurping, then a startled cough. “Don’t tell me the confirmed bachelorette has met someone?”

  “I didn’t say that… exactly.”

  “You’ve been there all of eight hours! Good girl!” Christine could tell Ellen was pleased with her, probably beaming like the Cheshire cat from ear to ear.

  “It’s not like that at all. My SUV got stuck in a snowstorm.”

  “And Prince Charming rescued you? Ooh, I’m just loving it! Come now, dish to the woman who made it all possible. What’s his name?”

  “John Steadman.”

  “Sounds promising. What’s he do?”

  “He’s a college professor.”

  “I’ll Google him!” Then Christine heard her whisper to her boy toy. “Hand me my iPad, baby.”

  “That’s stalkerish!”

  “You’re just jealous because you didn’t do it first. Let’s see S… T… Is it just an ‘e’ or an ‘ea’ in Steadman?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Yep. It’s ‘ea.’ Here he is. Mister… Whoops! Make that Doctor John Steadman. Um-hum… Burlington, Vermont. My oh my oh my. Is he a hottie!

  “Ellen!”

  “What? I’m terribly proud of you. So, when are the two of you going out?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. We’re not.”

  “Why not?”

  “He didn’t ask.”

  “Then you ask him.”

  “We’re only here for two weeks.”

  “And I’m only here for one,” she purred. “That doesn’t mean I’m letting my vacation go to waste.” Christine feared she heard kissing and hoped Ellen wasn’t making out on the other end of the line.

  “I’m not like you, Ellen. This is different. I’m—”

  “Chicken.”

  “No. Out of practice.”

  “That’s the whole point, Christine. It’s been over two years. Don’t you think it’s time?”

  Christine opened her laptop and set it on the counter. Of all the nerve! Ellen went and Googled her guy before she’d had a chance to. Christine felt a rash of embarrassment for thinking of John Steadman as hers. She hadn’t laid claim to him, for heaven’s sake. They barely even knew each other and had only met a couple of times. By accident. Literally.

  Suddenly a smoke alarm sounded and Christine looked up to find chili bubbling over on the cooktop and black smoke curling from the oven. “Oh no!” she cried, leaping from the barstool.

  Tyler rushed into the room, hollering, “Something’s on fire!”

  She grabbed two potholders and pulled the charred cornbread from the oven. Quickly opening the kitchen door, she tossed the seared pan out in the snow, then dashed back inside to wave a towel beneath the blaring smoke detector.

  Tyler clambered up on the kitchen stool to watch the show as the air cleared and the wailing instrument finally quieted.

  “Whew!” Christine breathed, dabbing her forehead with the dishtowel.

  Tyler slowly spun his stool toward the counter, then cried with delight.

  “Mommy, Mommy! Look! It’s our angel!”

  Christine crossed to the counter and shut her laptop.

  “John’s not an angel, baby. I already explained that to you.”

  “But, when he helped us you said—”

  “It was a figure of speech. Something someone says when they mean something else.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “That’s how people talk sometimes.”

  “Why don’t they just say what they mean?”

  “I guess that would be too easy.” She reached for her son and helped him off of the stool. “Come on, let’s get ready to eat. You hungry for dinner?”

  Tyler wrinkled his nose. “Can I skip the cornbread?”

  An hour later, Christine and Tyler were constructing a fortress out of Lincoln Logs. Tyler crowned the final turret with a tiny toy flag. “Tadahh!” he proclaimed proudly. “It’s done!”

  Christine’s heart swelled with pride. She was so honored to call this charming young man her son. “It’s awesome, Ty. World’s best.”

  Tyler beamed.

  “You see,” Christine told him, “playing the old-fashioned way isn’t really so rotten.”

  “It’s all right, I guess.” Tyler yawned and rubbed his eyes.

  Christine checked the mantel clock, seeing it was after nine.

  “Oh gosh, look at the time. It’s up to bed with you.”

  “But mom—” he protested, even as he picked up Jasper.

  “No buts about it. There will be more time for play tomorrow.”

  “You mean it?”

  Christine nodded as he headed up the stairs dragging his teddy beside him. Slowly, thoughtfully, he turned toward his mom. “I like Vermont,” he said.

  “Yeah, buddy,” she answered, smiling softly, “I like it, too.”

  Chapter Five

  With Tyler tucked in, Christine sat at the dining room table to work on her drafts. Her first task was reworking her earlier sketch of Santa’s sleigh over a rooftop by using Winterhaven as a model for the scene. After a while, tired from her labors, she stood for a stretch and walked to the window, surveying the already buried-in-snow SUV. Guardian Angel, she thought with a chuckle, casting her gaze up the stairs to where Tyler lay sleeping.

  Nabbing her laptop off of an end table, she carried it with her to the sofa and perched it on her knees. Within seconds, a computerized voice told her she had mail. Curious, Christine opened her messages to find a new e-mail in her inbox from, of all things, the University of
North Carolina Alumni Association. She thought of John, but then realized she was being ridiculous to take this sheer coincidence as any sort of sign. Even if they had gone to the same school, she reasoned, they probably hadn’t been there at the same time. He had to be in his mid to late thirties at least, and she had just turned thirty-one. Still, she couldn’t keep herself from clicking over to his Web page, which she’d bookmarked earlier, to review its details one more time.

  Department Chair John Steadman is a full professor of business and economics. Steadman holds a BA from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a PhD from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Before coming to Vermont, Professor Steadman served an associate and then full professor at Tulane University in New Orleans, where he was instrumental in developing innovative business models.

  Below his bio and an extremely flattering professional photo, a link directed the reader to Contact Professor Steadman. Christine could just bet that a number of coeds had the hots for the steamy professor. Lots of girls got crushes on their teachers, and John’s easygoing nature and gentle charm would make him easy to fall for. His ruggedly handsome face and that built, athletic body didn’t hurt much either… But Christine was no college kid. She was a full-grown woman and a mother besides. She was way too mature to go crushing on people, particularly people she didn’t know that well.

  Christine pondered the prospect of getting to know John. Perhaps Ellen was right. Christine hadn’t gone out for so much as coffee with a man since Dan died. She couldn’t sequester herself forever. What was the harm in a casual connection anyway? Maybe being in Vermont for a limited time made it all the better, less risky somehow. She could take a chance on seeing someone on a friendship basis, where circumstance clearly dictated that a friendship was all it could be. She wasn’t ready for full-scale dating. Plus, she had Tyler to consider. Though he was too young to remember a lot about his dad, he’d already lost a father once. Christine didn’t want to put him in the position of forming an attachment that might not pan out. Truth be told, she didn’t want to put herself in that situation either.