Abby's Christmas

by Lynnette Kent

  “Wow, Ma. You look really good.”

  She waved the comment away. “What are you here for?”

  He held up the box he carried. “I thought I’d replace your shower nozzle, improve the spray. You’ve got faucet leaks and a drip under the bathroom sink.”

  Taking a step back, she held the door for him to come in. “Want some coffee?”

  He hadn’t gotten much sleep. “Sure.”

  “About four different people made sure I saw the paper yesterday,” she said, handing him a steaming mug as they stood together in the kitchen. They sipped in silence for a minute. “Why didn’t you explain to anybody?”

  “The basic facts are the same, whatever the reason.”

  “You really think the world is that simple?”

  Her eyes held his, and Noah couldn’t look away. “Maybe not.”

  “You don’t have much reason to trust anybody around here.” Marian turned to refill her mug. “But if you give…us…a chance, maybe we’ll surprise you.” After a pause, she added, “The way you’ve surprised us.”

  “Don’t make a hero out of me,” he warned.

  She turned, and for the first time in—twenty years?—he saw her smile. “You’re not a villain, either, son. You’re just a man.”

  By nightfall, he’d fixed her plumbing, changed the filters in her heating system and repaired the attic fan. As he washed his hands at the kitchen sink, his mother came into the kitchen. “I could fix some dinner.”

  “Or I could take you somewhere to eat.” He saw the pleasure in her eyes before she stifled it. “I’ve got Dixon’s truck—you wouldn’t have to ride the Harley.”

  Another first—Marian Blake actually laughed. “But wouldn’t you like to see Charlie Brannon’s face if I did?”

  NOAH AND HIS MOTHER were the talk of the diner during the dinner rush. Abby could scarcely keep her eyes off them—she’d never seen Marian Blake so content, never seen Noah so relaxed. Well, except for the time she’d spent with him in his bed.

  She took their orders, brought their food and drinks, cleared their dishes. No dessert—Noah didn’t ask for any and Mrs. Blake couldn’t eat the sugary cakes and pies. And although Charlie usually manned the cash register, Abby managed to be standing there when Noah came up to pay the bill.

  “Good food,” he said, handing over a twenty. “As usual.”

  “Thanks.” She made change, handing back a five and three ones. “I’m glad to see your mom out of the house.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the table where Mrs. Blake was finishing her coffee. “Yeah.” When he looked her way again, Abby searched his eyes. “Did you find the person you were looking for?”

  “I did.”

  “And did she tell you what you needed to know?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “First, I’m going to make sure you don’t go anywhere near the guy. Especially tomorrow night.”

  “So he really did it?”

  Noah nodded. “I’ve talked with Dixon, Pete, Rob and Adam. Told them what I know. We’re going to take care of this. But you have to promise to be somewhere else. Go to a movie, shopping, wherever.”

  “You’re saying I can’t come to the dance?”

  “Right.”

  “You’re crazy!” She spoke too loudly, and everyone in the diner looked in their direction.

  “I’m coming to the dance,” she whispered. “Especially if you’re planning something to do with Wade.”

  He braced his hands on the counter and leaned closer. “I can’t trust him, Abby. And I don’t want you hurt.”

  “Wade won’t hurt me. Besides, if I back out, he might not show up. Then what would you do?”

  From the look on his face, that was an angle the would-be heroes hadn’t considered. “Right,” she said triumphantly. “Think about it. All your plots won’t count for anything if Wade doesn’t come to the dance.

  “And I,” she pointed out with a superior smile, “can guarantee he’ll be there. You need me, Mr. Noah Blake, whether you like it or not.”

  Noah stood up straight, shaking his head. “You’re right, Ms. Abigail Brannon.” His smile turned her warm and shivery at the same time. “I most definitely do.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  WAITING FOR WADE TO ARRIVE on Saturday night was a little like waiting to be electrocuted. Or, maybe, hanged by the neck until dead.

  Abby sat on one chair in the living room, hoping she didn’t crush her velvet skirt too badly. Charlie had closed the diner early and come home to wait with her. “There’s no way I’m letting you go off with that reprobate all alone. I wish you’d said you’d meet him at the school.”

  “I should have done that,” she admitted, now that the moment had arrived. “But what can happen between here and the school? He has no idea we’re on to him, so he’ll just drive straight to the dance.”

  Her dad gave her a glum look. “I hope so. If he tries anything, you kick him where it counts and get out of the car.”

  She had to laugh. “I can’t quite visualize that kind of kick in the front seat of a Corvette.”

  “Don’t visualize. Just do it.”

  But Wade, when he showed up, was on his best behavior. “Good evening, Charlie.” He shook her dad’s hand at the door, then turned to look at Abby. “You’re a sight for sore eyes tonight, Miss Abby. Beautiful.” Drawing his left hand from behind his back, he offered her a florist’s box. “I hope you’ll wear this for me.”

  She opened the box with trembling fingers. “Talk about beautiful.” The wrist corsage was exquisite—a pristine white gardenia set against dark green leaves, tied with a red bow. Wade slipped the band on her wrist and she lifted the flower to her face. “I love the scent of gardenias. Thank you, Wade.”

  “You’re most welcome. Shall we go?” He held out his arm for her and walked her down the sidewalk to his car by the curb.

  “Have a good time,” Charlie called from the front porch. “Be careful.”

  Abby rolled her eyes, afraid her dad had given something away.

  Wade just laughed as he cranked the engine. “Dads never want to let their little girls grow up, do they?”

  She tried to relax against the leather seat. “I guess not. This is a great car.”

  The distraction worked perfectly, and he filled the minutes of the drive to New Skye High School with a monologue detailing all the fine points of his pride and joy. The dance committee had hired Sal Torres and some of his responsible friends to park cars for the attendees, but Wade made it to Abby’s door before Sal did.

  “You scratch this car,” he told Sal, “and I’ll pull your license until you’re fifty years old, at least.”

  Sal winked at Abby. “Yes, sir. I’ll be extra careful, sir, and park it all the way at the far end of the lot. Sir.”

  Wade glowered at him but soon recovered his good humor as he escorted Abby into the lobby of the gym.

  Rob and Valerie had just arrived, as well. “You look terrific,” Abby said as she gave Rob a kiss on the cheek. “And you, woman, are gorgeous.” She hugged Valerie, careful not to crush her friend’s midnight-blue silk dress.

  “Are you okay?” Valerie whispered in her ear. “I’m so scared.”

  “Just wonderful. Really.” Drawing back, she found Rob chatting with Wade about a recent pro football game, as if they were casual friends. Only someone who knew Rob very well would have detected the unfamiliar glint of anger in his blue eyes.

  Abby decided to separate the spark from the fuse in this explosive situation. “I haven’t seen the gym yet. Let’s go inside.” All she wanted was to keep Wade away from her friends until the right moment.

  When they stepped inside the gymnasium itself, though, she stopped with a gasp. “Oh, how wonderful!”

  Most of the dance committee had worked on decorations since dawn, and the effect they’d created was stunning. Shiny silver snowflakes hung on black wires from the ceiling, and wit
h the lights dimmed, they did look as if they were falling from the sky. A revolving “disco ball” over the dance floor cast sparkles of light onto the snowflakes and the crowd below. At the far end of the big space, the band was warming up on a portable stage. The Christmas tree to be awarded for the best Christmas panel stood just to the side of the stage, filled with glittering ornaments of every description and at least a thousand twinkling lights.

  The panels themselves had been erected along both sidelines of the basketball court. Though every scene had been created individually, they were arranged so that the pictures seemed to flow into one another. Abby recognized Jacquie and Rhys’s horse-drawn sleigh, Phoebe and Adam’s outdoor scene—a longleaf pine tree being decorated by birds and beasts—and the Warrens’ portrait of Santa Claus putting gifts around a beautiful indoor tree. Along the other side, the Hanukkah panel was a lovely blue-and-gold celebration full of candlelight and family love. There was an ice-skating scene, as well as a picture of children lined up to sit on Santa’s lap and whisper their wishes in his ear.

  On the end nearest her was a nostalgic view of 1954 New Skye itself, filled with happy shoppers in their best clothes, busy storefronts and the wonderful old courthouse on its snow-covered circular lawn. The snow sparkled with diamonds, and Abby realized that Noah had sprinkled glitter on her picture. She blinked back tears, just as the band struck up “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

  With the start of the music, the reunion dance took off. Wade seemed content to follow Abby around as she sought out the people she wanted to talk to. He didn’t push an agenda of his own, didn’t indicate anyone he particularly wanted to see, but he brought her punch and some of the delicious food, then stood beside her quietly while she visited with friends.

  “I’m beginning to wonder if we’re all wrong,” she confided to Valerie as they visited the rest room together. “I mean, he’s being a real gentleman. Do you suppose…?”

  Valerie shook her head. “You’re forgetting Ms. Lacey…Mrs. Riddle…the secretary. She confirmed what your dad guessed, because she was there that night.” Moving closer, Valerie lowered her voice. “Pete checked the phone company records. There have been calls made from Wade’s office and his home number in the last couple of weeks to the secretary’s home. Pete went out there this morning and she confessed that Wade threatened her with exposure if she talked to Noah.”

  Abby actually felt deflated, sad that Wade wasn’t the person he pretended to be. “I’ll try to remember this is all a sham.” Then she asked the important question. “Where is Noah? He will be here, won’t he?”

  But her friend shook her head. “I don’t know. He wasn’t here today while we set up. And Rob doesn’t know what the exact plan is—whether Noah intends to confront Wade during the dance or afterward.” She squeezed Abby’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

  Weaving through the crush of people to rejoin her “date” at the punch table, Abby surveyed the crowd yet again, hoping to find the one face she’d been missing. She reached Wade, however, without seeing Noah at all.

  Wade turned when she tapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome back! Would you like to dance?”

  She hadn’t intended to let him get that close. But if Noah wasn’t here…didn’t care enough to tell her what was going on…

  “Sure.” She smiled up at the dishonest, untrustworthy police officer. “Let’s dance.”

  FROM THE SHADOWS in the corner, Noah watched as Wade and Abby moved onto the dance floor between the Christmas panels. He clenched his jaw as he saw Hayes’s arms go around her. When she put her hands on the guy’s shoulders, he forced himself to stay where he was, instead of going out to yank them apart before pounding the jerk into the floor.

  Abby looked gorgeous, of course, with her hair piled in curls on back of her head, wearing a dress he would never have expected to see on her in a hundred years. Rich gold velvet clung to her hips but flared a little at her knees, leaving a long length of leg, in gold glitter stockings, for him to enjoy. The top of the dress draped in folds over her breasts but revealed her silky arms and dropped low in the back…where Wade Hayes had taken full advantage of the lovely skin left exposed.

  “Relax,” Dixon said, leaning against the wall beside him. “She knows it’s a game, if he doesn’t. She’s just providing a smoke screen.”

  “Sure,” Noah said, though he had to admit the word sounded more like a growl. “I’m relaxed.”

  “And I’m Santa Claus.”

  Kate joined them as he spoke, wrapping both her hands around Dixon’s elbow. “Oh, good. Can I have a baby for Christmas, Santa?”

  Dixon’s grin shone like a megawatt searchlight. “I do believe that can be arranged, Mrs. Claus.”

  Noah looked from one glowing face to the other. “Are you saying…?”

  “We are definitely saying Kate’s pregnant.” Dixon picked up one of her hands and kissed the knuckles. “I’m an incredibly lucky guy.”

  “Well, congratulations. But—” He stopped, realizing he was about to ask a less-than-diplomatic question.

  “But…what about law school?” Kate gave him her serene and beautiful smile. “I’ve asked for a deferment of my acceptance and I believe I’ll get it. So the baby will be born in July and we’ll have a year together before I start school. Fortunately, I have a built-in baby-sitter.”

  Dixon nodded. “Otherwise known as Dad. I figure I can write songs and rock a baby at the same time.”

  Out on the floor, the dancers stopped to applaud the end of the song. Noah figured Wade would bring Abby off the floor for a drink, and tensed up all over again when the cop simply took her into his arms and began swaying with the next tune.

  “I think I’ll take a walk,” he told the Bells, and made his way out of the gym. He hadn’t known what he was asking for, watching from the sidelines as Abby danced with somebody else. Anybody else, but especially Wade Hayes.

  Standing outside in the cold, with his hands in his pockets, he stared up at the black sky and wondered if he would make it through the evening without losing his temper. He planned to accuse Hayes calmly, present the truth without mentioning Pam Lacey Riddle at all, using Charlie’s name only as a last resort. He didn’t want Hayes in jail, didn’t need to see him punished. Noah only wanted Wade to admit the truth in front of the people who mattered—Noah’s friends…and the woman he loved.

  “Well, well, well, who have we here?” A big man in a tan uniform windbreaker strolled into the light.

  “Sheriff.” Noah nodded, hoping Chet Hayes would go about his business without pausing to chat. Then Principal Floyd came up on his other side.

  “I thought I’d come by and see how things are going at the big dance.” Hayes turned to face in the same direction as Noah. “Are folks having a good time?”

  “They seem to be.” Just standing next to the man gave him the creeps—how bad would it have been to live in the same house?

  “You shouldn’t even be here,” Floyd said. “You didn’t graduate from my school.”

  Noah faced him directly. “Do you want to try throwing me out?”

  The sheriff clicked his tongue. “Now, now, let’s all keep our tempers. How’s your mom, Noah?”

  “Good.”

  “I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Marian Blake. She was nice to me and my son, after my wife died.”

  Noah had no intention of engaging in that conversation.

  “I thought about making her a part of my life on a full-time basis, you know.” When Noah turned on his heel to head back inside, the sheriff clamped a hand on his shoulder. “But she held out on me. Said her boy wasn’t ready, wasn’t supportive.” He made the word sound ugly. “He didn’t like me, she said, or my son. We’d have to take some time to get him used to the idea.

  “Then there was the fire, and I had to tell her this son she was so concerned about was a criminal. A fugitive. I swear, boy, I wanted to hunt you down with dogs. But the D.A. said there just wasn’t enough evidence for a
warrant.”

  Noah turned back to face the big man, shaking off his heavy grip. “And all the time, the real arsonist was right under your nose.”

  The sheriff’s eyebrows drew together in genuine confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Everybody knows you set that fire,” Floyd sputtered, standing in the sheriff’s shadow.

  Noah stared. Did they not know the truth? Oh, man. “Never mind.” He walked toward the door to the gym lobby.

  Hayes came after him. “You answer me, boy. Who is this real arsonist?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Noah promised him. “I hope you’re sitting down at the time.”

  THE AWARDS WERE TO BE given out at eleven o’clock, while the band took a break before their last hour of music. Adam climbed onto the stage and claimed the microphone, with Phoebe beside him holding a stack of small gift boxes.

  “Good evening,” Adam said, and the crowd quieted down right away. “As mayor of New Skye and a member of the NSHS class of 1989, I’d like to welcome all of you to this reunion dance. I hope everyone is having as much fun as I am.” The audience answered with a round of applause.

  “What we’d like to do now is present awards to the talented people who created these lovely walls surrounding our dance floor. We have a lot of artistic talent in this town of ours, and I’m proud to see it demonstrated tonight.”

  The prizes ranged from the sublime to the ridiculous—a crystal snowflake ornament for the panel representing the true meaning of Christmas, given to Kate and Dixon for their nativity scene, a bagful of chocolate coins for the picture of a Christmas dinner table. Rob and Valerie received a sprig of mistletoe.

  “Not that they need it,” Adam commented, as the couple kissed in celebration.

  One by one, each panel was recognized with humor and with appreciation for its contribution to the festivities.

  Abby realized soon enough that the scene she’d painted with Noah was being saved for last. The Christmas tree, in all its glory, would be theirs…his?…hers?