Her Christmas Hero (Home To Dover 6)

by Lorraine Beatty

  “Don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to look at it more closely, but I just can’t leave Mobile right now. Every time I turn around there’s a new legal hoop to jump through.”

  Linc’s former sister-in-law had put his brother through emotional torture after their divorce, finding countless ways to keep him from their adopted daughter. “But you’ll get Abby back, won’t you?”

  “Yeah, but there’s a lot to untangle first, and the court system here moves like a slug.”

  “You can fill us in at Thanksgiving.” His brother’s lack of response made him uneasy.

  “I don’t think so. Leaving town might mess things up. Abby’s been through a lot and I need to be here with her. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Sure. You do what you have to do. We’ll be praying for you. But come home as soon as you can. Mom’s aching to see Abby again.”

  “I know. I want her back home, too.”

  Linc ended the call, then rested his elbows on the desk, grasping the back of his neck with his hands. Never in his life had he felt so alone and abandoned. His dad and his brothers had been his anchor. But Dad was gone and Gil was stuck in Mobile. Linc had been looking forward to Thanksgiving with the family as a way to reconnect and gain strength and support from those he loved. But it might be a smaller gathering than usual this year.

  Fighting off the swell of grief pressing against his ribs, he swiveled back to the computer and pulled up the next construction project. His best course of action now was to make sure Montgomery Electrical had plenty of jobs lined up for the future. He couldn’t bring his father back, but he could ensure the legacy he’d cherished.

  *

  Gemma gathered her hair up on the top of her head and stared at the lighting fixture above her dining room table. She’d been on the job only ten days and she was already facing a major glitch. And for once she wasn’t sure how to proceed. It was at times like this that she missed Darren. Before his betrayal they’d been a great brainstorming team. It was one of the things that had made Fine Day Events a success. Lowering her arms, she propped her elbows on the table. She needed advice.

  Time to get another point of view, and who better to ask than the woman who’d directed Christmas in Dover for over a decade? Scooping up her cell, she dialed the main house and was relieved when the older woman answered.

  “Gemma, dear. How are you? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, but I do have a problem I’d like to discuss with you if you have some time.”

  “Has Linc been giving you trouble?”

  Why in the world would she even ask that? “No. It’s about the Christmas decorations for the square.”

  “Oh. Fine. Are you at the office or at home today?”

  “I’m here at the cottage.”

  “I’ll be there in about six minutes. I’m waiting to take the last batch of cookies from the oven.”

  Gemma smiled as she placed her cell back on the table. Since Francie had been watching Evan there had been an increase in the amount of homemade cookies and cupcakes coming from the Montgomery kitchen. Francie said it soothed her and made her feel grounded to provide warm treats for Evan, and it reminded her of when her own kids were all home.

  She tried to imagine Linc as a small boy, but it was hopeless. No way could she see the strong, masculine eldest son as anything other than full grown. Maybe she’d ask Francie to show her a picture sometime.

  Within minutes Francie was tapping on the front door. She stepped inside with a smile and a warm plate of cookies. “I always discuss better with fresh cookies, don’t you?”

  “Ooh, they smell wonderful.”

  “Old-fashioned oatmeal. Linc’s favorite. I put raisins in them once and he pitched a fit.” She chuckled. “I never did it again. Unless I was making a batch for Bethany. She always wanted nuts and raisins in hers.”

  “Did you make a special batch for each child?”

  “Sometimes.” She nodded. “It’s what moms do.”

  Gemma took a warm cookie from the plate, marveling at the scope of her friend’s love. Her mother had never baked a cookie in her life. What would it be like to have someone make your favorite cookies especially for you? The soft cookie melted in her mouth. “Francie, these are scrumptious!”

  “Thanks.” She glanced down at the sketches and papers spread out on the table. “So what do you need to talk about?”

  Gemma pointed to the two calendars in the center. November and December. “We have a problem and I’m not sure how to handle it.” She pointed to the Thursday with the star in the corner. Thanksgiving. “Notice anything odd about November?”

  Francie looked at the date, slowly shaking her head. “Oh! Thanksgiving is early this year. We have a week before the start of December.”

  Gemma tugged her hair behind her ears. “This can either be a good thing or a bad thing. I’m not sure which.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve started ordering decorations for the courthouse park and scheduling people to hang the street drapes and the lights on the storefronts, but they can’t guarantee them before Thanksgiving because of short notice. Plus, most of what I need can’t be delivered until after the holiday. Traditionally, the day after Thanksgiving is the kickoff for Christmas events, but I’m going to need that week to decorate. There’s simply not enough time to get things ready before then. I’m not sure what to do. The day after Thanksgiving is Black Friday, one of the busiest days in retail. Won’t people be expecting everything to be set up by then?”

  Francie stared at the calendar. “Normally, yes. But this year is different. The Chamber knew it was giving you a narrow timeframe. And truthfully, Black Friday isn’t that big a deal in Dover. The majority of folks go up to the malls in Jackson or the big-box stores in Sawyer’s Bend.”

  Gemma sank into the chair. “I thought that might be the case. I was looking at sales figures from last year and there’s not much of a jump on Black Friday. So I was thinking, what if we took that lame-duck week and used it as our decorating time? I can schedule everything for the first of the week. We can get the lights hung, the park decorated, the trees set up, and we’ll be ready to kick off the first weekend in December as planned.”

  “I think that’s a perfect solution.”

  “That’s a relief. I just needed to make sure I was thinking it through logically. You don’t think the merchants will object?”

  “Not at all. They all want the same thing. We need to put Dover on the map, bring in new business and new interest. You do what you think best. That’s why I recommended you.”

  “Thanks, Francie. I really appreciate your help.”

  The older woman patted her arm. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  A knock on the front door brought Gemma to her feet. Linc stood on her porch, hands on hips, eyes narrowed in concern. “Is my mom here?”

  Gemma motioned him in.

  “Linc? What’s wrong?” Francie looked over her shoulder at her son.

  “I came home and didn’t know where you were. I smelled cookies, but you weren’t in the house.”

  “I brought Gemma some cookies. We had things to discuss about the Christmas events.”

  Linc looked between them. “Yeah, well, you left the oven on, Mom.”

  “Oh, dear.” She lifted her shoulders in chagrin, and chuckled. “That’s a bad habit of mine. I love to bake, but I get distracted, then I end up with burned cookies instead of chewy ones. Dale used to get so frustrated with me…” She stopped abruptly, her hand coming to rest in the center of her chest. Her eyes grew moist. “I’d better go see to that stove.”

  “I already did, Mom.”

  “Good. Thank you, dear. Gemma, we’ll talk later.” She hurried out the door.

  She closed the door watching through the glass pane in the center as the older woman made her way slowly across the lawn. Her earlier energy was gone, bringing an ache to Gemma’s heart. “Will she be all right?”

>   Linc spoke from behind. “I hope so. I only wish I knew what to do for her.”

  Gemma pivoted to face him, coming up short when she realized how close he stood. She eased back a step and looked up into his concerned expression. He loved his mother deeply. “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do. Just be there and love her.” A flash of sadness darted through his eyes. She tore her gaze from his and stepped around him. “Would you like a cookie? Francie said they’re your favorite.”

  Linc took a couple from the pile in his hand, one corner of his mouth lifting. “She hasn’t made these in a long time. She’s started baking again since she’s been watching Evan.”

  “Evan looks forward to spending time with her. I think they are good for each other.”

  “I suppose so. So what’s going on with the Christmas events? Mom giving you advice on how to do things?”

  She ignored his challenging tone. “There’s an extra week between Thanksgiving and the first of December. We decided to use that to decorate the downtown.”

  “But Christmas always starts the day after Thanksgiving. Everyone knows that. It’s—”

  Gemma raised her hand as she sat back down at the table. “Tradition. I know. But not this year. There’s not enough time to get everything in place. We’ll need that entire week to prepare for the Dover Glory Lights event.”

  Linc placed his fisted knuckles on the tabletop and stared down at her. “That’s a big mistake. No one is going to be happy about pushing Christmas kickoff back a week.”

  Gemma smiled up at him, inwardly bracing against the waves of emotion emanating from Linc. He may appear cool on the outside, but inside he felt things fiercely. “It can’t be helped. A little speed bump, nothing more. Besides, your mother thinks it won’t be an issue, and she should know.”

  He straightened, shaking his head slightly. “Why are you so determined to change everything? Our Christmas has been just fine for a long time.”

  She ignored the way he loomed over her and focused on her job. “Just fine until Southways closed. You might not have noticed a drop in business since then, but the merchants on the square have. They need to revitalize the downtown, draw more customers.”

  “By turning our simple Christmas into a spectacle? Hasn’t the holiday been hijacked enough with people ignoring the real reason for Christmas, calling it a holiday, turning it into a greedfest? I want better for my hometown.” Linc gestured to the papers on the table. “I don’t suppose this speed bump means you’ll have to scale back on your Rockefeller-style extravaganza?”

  If she wasn’t so irritated she would have laughed out loud. He was behaving like a little boy who didn’t get to hang the star on the treetop. “Not at all. In fact, I should have the time now to add those extra touches I’ve been thinking about. And by the way, the whole world flocks to Rockefeller Center to enjoy the lights.”

  Linc leaned down and looked into her eyes. “And by the way, this isn’t New York.”

  His smile was mocking, and his eyes were filled with a challenging glint. His nearness sent her nerve endings dancing. Gemma swallowed her discomfort. “That’s a good thing, because I don’t have the budget for that many lights.” She held her ground, wondering what he would do next. She expected him to storm out. Instead, he shoved his hands in his back pockets and shook his head.

  “Don’t you have any traditions that you cherish, or are you a female Scrooge who hates Christmas?”

  Gemma looked away. There’d never been consistent traditions in her family, unless you counted the lack of tradition as one. She stood and faced him, arms crossed over her chest. “I love Christmas. I love the reason we celebrate, I love the music, the decorations and the gifts. I love the nativity scenes and the trees, but mostly I love the lights. I want lights from every rooftop, every tree and shrub and building and walkway. I want to make downtown Dover as beautiful and glorious as possible. Yes, the lights will draw in visitors, the more the better. But I don’t think of them as glamorizing the holiday, but a way to draw them to Christ. If we wanted to show people the real meaning of Christmas, how the light of His life changed the world, then we couldn’t put up enough lights on the planet.” She took a deep breath, brushing her hair behind her shoulder. She’d gotten carried away. She dared a look at Linc, prepared for whatever rebuttal he was going to toss her way. Instead, she found a puzzled frown on his face and an odd light in his blue eyes that only added to her unease.

  The air between them vibrated the way it always did when he was near, but this was different, softer. As if he was seeing her in a different way. She held her breath. When he remained silent she plunged ahead.

  “And as for Santa, he’s the symbol of giving. God gave us Himself and taught us how to give to others. Each time we give a gift we’re honoring Him. I want people to come to Dover and rejoice. Maybe some of them will go home and want to learn about Jesus.”

  The scowl on Linc’s face eased into a small smile. Her heart rate quickened and a surge of anxiety chilled her veins. She didn’t know what she’d said that had caused the shift in attitude, but the warmth in his eyes had warmed her blood several degrees.

  Linc’s shoulders relaxed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

  She thought he would say more, but he picked up another cookie from the plate and nodded. “I’d better check on Mom.”

  Gemma breathed a sigh of relief when he shut the door behind him. Unfortunately, he’d left plenty of his vibrant energy behind. They were on opposite sides of the holiday issue, but she found herself enjoying the sparring between them. She always felt alive and strong. Not that she’d bested him, but that she’d held her own. It was nice to know her old determination was coming back. And that was all it was. It certainly had nothing to do with the strong-jawed, blue-eyed, all-male eldest son. Not at all.

  She was not attracted to him. She was not.

  *

  Gemma sorted through her papers and notes Thursday evening as she waited for the town square business owners to arrive. This was their second meeting and the most important. She would lay out detailed plans for the various activities. She’d taken photos of the refreshed wreaths Seth was working on, which she posted on a corkboard behind her. She hoped the quick progress would inspire the owners and nudge those who might be on the fence to get on board.

  She’d accomplished a lot in the past two weeks. She’d upgraded the Dover website, solicited food vendors for the weekends and started contacting local media about the upcoming events. Her only concern was how the owners would feel about that lame-duck week when they’d have to decorate. Mayor Bill Ogden was on board so she didn’t think it would be a problem, but as Linc had pointed out, she was tampering with tradition and that could spell problems.

  The conference room door creaked and her spirits dipped when she saw Linc walk in. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a business owner.”

  “True, but you don’t own a business on the square.”

  “No, but Mom made me promise to help you out. So here I am.”

  “She did not.”

  A sly smile moved his lips. “She did. You can ask her.”

  “Well, you can tell Francie I appreciate her concern, but I don’t need your help.”

  Linc set his hands on his hips and shrugged. “Doubt if that’ll work, but you’re welcome to talk to her when you see her.”

  Gemma busied herself with her handouts, sorting them in piles and laying them crisscrossed, and trying to ignore Linc. He was probably right. Francie would be offended if she refused her son’s help. She no doubt saw it as a kind gesture. Gemma saw it as an obstacle she didn’t need.

  “Fine. Then, take a seat and don’t interrupt. I have a lot to cover and I don’t need any negativity from you.”

  “No problem. There’ll be plenty of negativity once everyone gets here.”

  Gemma sent a scowl in his direction, which only made him smile. He took a seat on the end of the first row, right in her line of
sight. If he thought he was going to intimidate her, he had a surprise coming. Once she was focused on her task, nothing could pull her out of the zone.

  Linc sat, spread his arms out along the back of the chairs, rested one ankle on his knee and grinned. Gemma’s pulse quickened and a warm flush filled her cheeks. She pulled her gaze away, allowing her hair to fall forward and hopefully hide her reaction. Okay, so she could focus when it was anyone but him. The dark jeans and cream-colored Henley that he wore did little to hide the sculpted chest and muscled arms. The sleeves were shoved up, revealing corded forearms and a black watch strapped across his wrist. He looked relaxed, confident and defiant. He was taunting her, biding his time until the other owners arrived and started poking holes in her plans.

  No way. She would not let him influence the others who were starting to arrive. Quickly she went to greet them and introduce herself to the ones who’d missed the previous meeting. When she returned to the front of the room, she was able to ignore Linc and focus on the job at hand. Well, almost.

  “Good evening. I’m so glad to see so many of you here. We have a lot to go over and I know you’ll have questions.” She explained about the extra week and her plans for decorating. When no one expressed any concerns she moved forward.

  Gemma briefly went over the plans for the grand lighting the first weekend and explained about the lamppost-decorating contest, and the addition of carriage rides around the square.

  “Oh, how romantic.” A woman in the front row smiled up at her.

  Gemma smiled in agreement, her confidence lifting a notch. “Week three will be the children’s weekend. We will continue with your lovely tradition of having visitors donate toys, and I understand Peace Community Church will host that event. The annual community dinner will be held again, but that is organized by the city of Dover. Santa will be enthroned in the square park to visit with the children, and street vendors will be offering food and beverages. This will give visitors a chance to wander along the storefronts and cast their vote for the best windows.” Gemma sent a smug smile in Linc’s direction.