He turned to pull the garage door down, shutting out the wind if not the cold. “What’s everybody else doing?”
“Um…Jacquie’s doing something about horses and a stable. Maybe a sleigh ride. Phoebe and Adam said something about children and a Christmas tree. Rob and Valerie I’m not sure about—they’ll probably let the three kids help decide. I saw one entry form that mentioned a manger scene, and somebody else wanted to do a menorah and symbols of Hanukkah. I can’t remember all the others.”
Crossing his arms, Noah leaned back against the fender of Miss Daisy’s yellow New Yorker. “I’m sure you must have thought about this already. What do you want to do?”
She looked at him sheepishly. “Well, I did have an idea.”
“Which is?”
“I thought about our Main Street, back in the old days, before it deteriorated, you know? Dad’s told me all about it—Mabry’s Department store was the place to shop, the Silver Screen Cinema showed movies, and there were restaurants and businesses all making a profit downtown. I looked it up—”
Noah chuckled. “Of course you did.”
“—and there was a white Christmas in New Skye in 1954. Wouldn’t that be just perfect? We could paint Christmas in 1954, with the cute cars and the great clothes and snow everywhere.”
To his own surprise, Noah could see in his mind’s eye exactly what she described—the energy and excitement of a small town in the recovery after a world war. Those old Packards and Fords and Chevys had sported great chrome details. “Can we include a vintage Harley?”
“Absolutely.” Abby nodded. “What do you think?”
“Absolutely,” Noah echoed, grinning. “Let’s sharpen those pencils.”
BY ELEVEN O’CLOCK THEY’D roughed in the outlines of their drawing—a diagonal view of Main Street with the cinema marquee in the foreground, Mabry’s Department Store in the center and the courthouse in the horizon. Noah was a good draftsman, Abby had discovered, with a great eye for perspective.
“Considering the fact that neither of us took art lessons, or got any encouragement at all, I think this looks terrific,” she told him, standing back to observe as he sketched in the Harley he’d parked in front of Leland’s Restaurant and Grill. “I can’t wait until we start putting the colors in.”
Noah straightened up from a crouch to his full height, then stretched his arms high over his head. The long, lean length of him took her breath away. She bent to gather the rulers and pencils they’d left on the floor, giving herself an excuse for flushed cheeks.
“It’ll be fun to paint in the decorations.” He leaned backward, his body now a graceful arc. “Wreaths on the windows and garlands on the lampposts and little piles of snow against the curbs and walls.” His grin, when he looked at her, was proud, but also a little shy. “I think we’ve got a winner on our hands.”
“Wouldn’t that be fun? The hardware store is donating a big, tall spruce tree and everybody who comes to the dance is supposed to bring an ornament. Then the winner of the panel contest gets to take the tree home.” She sighed. “Dad has an artificial tree we’ve put up every year since my mom got sick. I know he celebrated just for me those first few years, because I was still a teenager, and he needed a tree that didn’t make too much trouble. But I’ve always wanted a fresh tree. Maybe this year will be the year.”
Noah stared at her with a serious expression. “If you got your own place, you could have any kind of tree you wanted.”
“But Dad would be by himself, and he’d hate that.”
“What if you get married one day? What’s he going to do then?”
She tried to laugh but doubted she carried it off. “That falls under the category of crossing a bridge when you get to it. The prospect of grandchildren would probably keep Dad satisfied.”
As they finished cleaning up, a new tension entered the air. From Noah, maybe, who’d made it clear he didn’t want anything approaching a real relationship. Or from herself, Abby thought, because she was trying so hard to keep things casual, which was almost impossible when she’d cared for such a long time.
“I’d better get going.” She looked around as if she needed to bring something else home besides the car keys in her pocket. “Elvis will want to go out.”
“Who is… That’s what you call the dog?”
“He seems fairly comfortable with it.”
Noah shook his head. “I’m completely missing his resemblance to the king.”
“So come get him and bring him here to stay. Then you can call him Spot. Or whatever.”
“Whatever might be a good name. But I don’t want to impose on Dixon’s hospitality with a half-trained mutt.”
“He’s very well trained, as a matter of fact. But that’s okay. Elvis and I enjoy each other’s company.” Abby turned to lift up the overhead door. The rollers on the track made enough noise that she almost missed what Noah said next.
“I do, too.”
The cold wind rushed into the garage as if it had been waiting all night at the door. She looked at Noah. “What did you say?”
He walked past her and waited until she’d stepped out onto the gravel drive before pulling the door down.
“I said, I do, too. I enjoy your company.”
“Oh.” She’d lost her breath again, but not because of the wind. “I’m glad.” Gazing up at Noah in the dark, she thought she saw a debate going on in his eyes.
Maybe not, though, because in the next moment he stepped back. “Get into your car. And don’t go anywhere else but straight home. There’s some crazy running around robbing people.”
“I heard about that. It’s mostly businesses, though.” She backed toward the Volvo. “I was glad to close up early tonight for that reason.” Reaching the driver’s door, she turned the lock and opened the panel. “Among others. ’Night, Noah.”
He lifted a hand without saying anything else. The Volvo engine took a couple of tries to catch; Noah stepped forward just as the motor roared to life. For once, Abby wouldn’t have minded car trouble. Instead, she waved and backed out to the circular drive in front of Magnolia Cottage.
A pretty successful evening, she decided on the trip home. Noah hadn’t backed off, hadn’t shut her out. If she managed to slip under his guard, she might still have a chance—a chance for the adventure that being with Noah Blake offered. She always felt alive with him, in ways she’d never known with anyone else. Not a single man in New Skye affected her the way he did. Plenty of dates and a reasonable number of kisses had assured her of one thing.
If she couldn’t have Noah, she wouldn’t settle for anyone less.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“YOU CAME IN AWFUL LATE last night,” Charlie said when Abby hurried into the diner kitchen at six-thirty Tuesday morning.
“I was working on a backdrop for the reunion dance,” she said breathlessly.
“I don’t like you out by yourself so late.”
“I know, I know.” She patted him on the shoulder as she went by. “I was careful.”
“Another bar got robbed last night,” Billie commented as she stirred a big pot of grits. “Had a gun, the owner said, wore a Lone Ranger mask, emptied the register. Paper’s started calling him ‘The Lone Robber.’”
Abby tied on a clean apron. “Well, I wasn’t at a bar. I was in Dixon Bell’s garage, drawing pictures.”
Charlie stared at her with lowered brows. “Dixon Bell’s garage? That’s where the Blake boy’s staying, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She went out to the front and checked the coffeemaker, hoping to avoid the rest of the conversation.
Her dad followed. “You’re telling me you didn’t see him?”
“No, I didn’t tell you that.” She sighed. “Noah and I worked on the backdrop together. No big deal.”
“I’d say it must be a pretty big deal if you couldn’t tell me about it.”
“I just didn’t want to argue. And I knew you wouldn’t like me spending time with Noah.”
“You got that right.” He put a big hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “What are you trying to do, Abby girl? What else do I have to say?”
“Nothing. You don’t have to say anything, because what I know about Noah and what you think you know about him are entirely different.” She brushed by him and rounded the counter, crossed the dining room and unlocked the door. “It’s time to open.”
Tuesday’s breakfast crowd was light, but Abby kept herself busy out front, away from her dad. She was cleaning up a table, with her back to the door, when a woman’s fingers covered her eyes. “Guess who?”
Abby put up her own fingers and explored the left hand. “Hmm. Huge stone, square cut, embroidered band. Good morning, Sam.”
The blindfold dropped from her eyes. “Do you know everybody’s rings?”
“Probably.” Abby turned and gave Samantha Crawford a hug. “Is Tommy here, or are you by yourself?”
“I’m meeting Phoebe and Jacquie for breakfast.” The petite reporter grinned. “I’ve got news.”
“Sounds like that’s a capital N.” Abby led the way to a booth on the wall. “What can I get you to drink while you’re waiting?”
“Milk?”
“Oho. That kind of news, is it? One tall milk, coming right up.”
When she returned with Sam’s drink, Phoebe and Jacquie had arrived. The three women had become friends during Adam DeVries’s run for mayor, when Tommy Crawford had worked as his campaign manager. “So, Miss Samantha,” Abby said. “Are you going to make your announcement first, or should I get your orders?”
“I think I’ll burst if I wait any longer.” Sam gazed at each of them in turn. “I’m pregnant.”
Phoebe and Jacquie didn’t say anything for a second, then looked at each other. “Well, duh,” Jacquie said.
“What?” Sam screeched.
They tortured her for one second longer, keeping their faces straight. And then they burst into laughter.
“Of course you are, sweetie.” Phoebe reached across the table to capture Sam’s hands. “And we’re thrilled.”
“You knew already?”
“We were talking just recently about how wonderful you look these days, a little rounder in your cheeks, and just so bright…and it occurred to us there might be a reason besides that cute husband of yours.”
“So give us all the details,” Jacquie ordered. “When are you due? What does Tommy think about it? Have you picked out names? What color will the nursery be?”
Abby listened long enough to find out the baby would be born in May, broke in to get their breakfast orders, and then went to the kitchen. She hit a run of customers at that point and couldn’t get back to the conversation with Sam, as much as she wanted to. That was always the way, of course. She had a job to do, responsibilities to take care of.
Staring at her order book as she flipped through the pages, she walked up to a newly occupied table. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like a cup of coffee.”
Only one man could claim that voice. “Noah!”
He smiled. “You’re thinking about something serious this morning.”
“No, not really.” She could feel her cheeks flush. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“That’s okay. All I need is coffee, when you get to it.”
“Sure. Right away.” She scanned the rest of the room, saw a couple of hands lifted for her attention, but ignored them in favor of getting Noah’s drink.
“Milk and sugar are on the table,” she told him. “But you probably know that.”
“They’re having fun.” Noah nodded at Phoebe and Jacquie across the room, giggling with Sam.
“You’ve met Phoebe, Adam’s wife. But Sam hasn’t been at the dance meetings. She’s married to Tommy Crawford, and she announced this morning that she’s having a baby.”
“Looks like good news.” His grin softened to a smile.
“Babies are always good news.”
In a moment, all the softness vanished. “Not always,” he said in a hard voice. “Sometimes they’re just in the way.”
“What—”
“Hey, Abby!” A guy at a table near the door stood up and yelled in her direction. “I’m dying of thirst over here. Can I get some damn coffee?”
“Sure, sure. I’ll be right there.” She looked back at Noah. “Don’t go away.”
But when she came back to the other table with the coffeepot, Noah’s seat was empty. Again, he’d left payment in exact change and a tip.
Abby snatched up the money and crushed it in her fist. How long was she going to be tied up in this place, always at the mercy of people who wanted something they thought she should provide?
When would she be free to have a life of her own?
NOAH GOT TO WORK at ten minutes before eight, just as he’d planned. He’d been tempted to stay and talk with Abby, but could only be grateful that he’d been given a chance to reconsider. Her life was complicated enough without her getting mixed up with him.
And Noah knew he couldn’t afford more complications in his own existence. He’d always traveled alone, most of the time by choice. Before Abby, anyway.
He parked in back of Warren and Sons Locksmiths this time and went in through the rear entrance. Rob was already at the workbench. “’Morning, Noah. We’re due at Mrs. O’Brien’s house at eight-thirty. What do you know about installing security systems?”
“Lots of little wires running all over the place,” Noah joked. “With bells attached so if somebody comes in, they’ll trip and make a lot of noise.”
Rob started laughing and shaking his head. “I’m in trouble now.”
“You meant something else?” Noah grinned. “I guess I read the wrong chapters last night.”
Together they reviewed the system they would install for Mrs. O’Brien, and the wiring diagram. Rob pointed out the equipment they needed and where he’d stowed it in the company van.
“Time to roll.” He walked down the hallway to the main office. “Dad, we won’t be back until quitting time. This is an all-day job.”
“Yeah, sure.” Mike Warren’s voice rumbled all over the building. “I give you five minutes in Margie O’Brien’s house with an ex-con. She’ll have you out of there so fast, your eyes will be rolling around in your head like pinballs.”
“Sorry about that,” Rob said quietly as they climbed into the van. “He doesn’t like anybody very much, if that helps.”
“He could be right, you know.” Noah watched traffic through the side window. “You’re taking a big risk with your new business.”
“Let’s just see how things go. You and Dad may both be borrowing trouble.”
Rob stopped the van at the curb in front of one of the houses on the Hill, the neighborhood on a slope above downtown New Skye where most of the biggest, nicest houses were located, occupied by the oldest, richest families. Kate and Mary Rose Bowdrey had grown up around here somewhere, along with Adam DeVries. Noah had never visited any of these homes, never hung around with the kids who lived here. He hadn’t been considered good enough, back in high school, even to mow their lawns.
Was he good enough now to install their security systems?
Rob went up the slate sidewalk and rang the doorbell while Noah waited in the van. The front door opened to reveal an older lady with iron-gray curls, a lavender dress and matching shoes. A little dog wiggled in her arms, fighting to get down, but Mrs. O’Brien nodded and smiled as Rob talked to her. Maybe things would go more smoothly than expected.
Motioning for Noah to join him, Rob went around to the back of the van. “We’re cleared for takeoff. The underground utilities are all marked and Trent came out yesterday to dig a trench for the new line to the street. She said she’d keep the dog out of the way. Good thing, since it snapped at me when I was here before. Let’s get started.”
Noah did a good deal of fetching and carrying for the first couple of hours as Rob planned out the work and set up the equipment. Wirel
ess installations like this one were remarkably easy, with the only complicated portion being the connection of the control box to the street lines. Mrs. O’Brien fluttered around them as they worked, saying little but watching every move.
Just before noon, Rob sent Noah into the living room to retrieve a wire stripper. As he returned to the kitchen through the dining room, Noah heard Mrs. O’Brien’s reedy voice.
“What did you say his name was?”
“Noah, ma’am. Noah Blake.”
“Wasn’t he in prison? For murder?”
“No, ma’am. Noah did serve some time for a manslaughter charge. But he’s explained the circumstances to me and I’m willing to believe the incident was an unfortunate occurrence that will never happen again.”
“But…he’s been in my house. I’m all alone here since my husband passed away. With Fluffy, of course. But she’s not a watchdog.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He’ll know the codes.”
“No, ma’am. The only people who will know your code are you and whoever you give it to.”
“Surely there are some master formulas….”
“No, ma’am. Once we leave, we won’t have access to your house in any way whatsoever. Even the police and the fire department will have to break in if the doors and windows are locked.”
Noah thought of Wade Hayes and his dad, the sheriff. If he were going to be afraid, those were the people who could scare him.
“You’ll be completely safe,” Rob continued. “Of course, as far as Noah is concerned, you’d be safe, anyway.”
“I don’t know…” Mrs. O’Brien clucked like a worried chicken. “I just don’t feel comfortable with him looking at my things. If you could send him away and finish the work yourself—”
“No, ma’am.” Polite to the end, Rob’s voice was as hard as Noah had ever heard it. “I can’t do that. I stand behind Noah Blake just like I stand behind my brothers. I’m asking you to trust me on this.”
In the silence that followed, Noah entered the kitchen. Mrs. O’Brien cast him a scared glance and left the room.
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