The Christmas Kiss

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The Christmas Kiss Page 4

by Virginia McCullough


  Looking at the friendly faces in the crowd, his heart pounded a little harder and his palms felt damp. But he saw Emma and Nic in the audience and something shifted inside him. He took a deep breath and started. “Thanks for taking the time to come here tonight. I hope you’ll greet the changes at the sanctuary as warmly as you’ve greeted me. I don’t want to be long-winded, so I’ll give you a quick rundown of what we’ve got going on here.” One by one, he ticked off the items on a list he’d jotted down and slipped into his jacket pocket, but his memory was working fine and his voice got warmer as he went along. The newsletter, coming soon. Social media, up and running. The new website, almost done. The boardwalk, under construction.

  “So, I’ll be around Thanksgiving weekend. Come in, have a look. Better yet, become a sanctuary member—the whole family can join and benefit from what we—you—are building. For sure, I hope to see all of you on Christmas Eve afternoon for the official relaunch of the new facility.”

  With his muscles relaxing as he got to the windup, Parker pointed to the wall of photos and the map of the future facility. “Tonight is about the future. I want your kids and grandchildren to have the same chance to learn about the natural world as I did. I know you feel the same.” Not caring if he sounded condescending or not, he added, “I took this job because Bluestone River made a decision to use this land well. I promise you won’t regret it.” He dipped his chin to signal the end and put the mic back in the stand before glancing at Stacey and stepping away.

  Enthusiastic applause began, but one lone voice called out, “Not everyone likes everything goin’ on, ya know.”

  “C’mon, Jim,” Stacey said into the mic. “We know you had different ideas, going back more than a decade. But that time is over now. We’re planning for the future.”

  Parker quietly observed the man standing nearby whose features were fixed in anger, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. But there was something else. Parker guessed this was a guy who suffered from feeling perpetually misunderstood. Even knowing only the sketchy history of debate over how to use the sanctuary land, Parker felt a little sorry for Jim. It was never easy to be a solo voice going against the crowd. He’d been in that position himself a few times and it meant being ready for ridicule—or worse.

  “All I wanted was more time for debate,” Jim shouted, red-faced as he approached the front of the room.

  Voices in the crowd tried to shout him down. Although Parker didn’t think the man looked especially threatening to Stacey, he moved in next to her and nodded to the mic she held and opened his hand. “Okay?” he whispered. “I can try to help.”

  She handed him the microphone. “Go ahead. But this is an old squabble and he doesn’t budge.”

  Parker raised his free hand to quiet the crowd. “I may not be able to change your mind, Jim, but I invite you to stop by anytime. Let’s talk about your concerns. I’ve been where you are. On the other side, maybe, but I know what it’s like to take unpopular stances and be outvoted—in big numbers. You’re frustrated. I get that.”

  Jim flapped his hand at Mike. “But you weren’t here when he took over as mayor. He hadn’t lived here for years. Then he waltzes into town and suddenly we’re going to be some kinda Christmas village. Like that’s going to bring jobs back? What about getting real businesses in town?” He turned as if to leave, but then stopped and said to Parker, “This foolishness goes back a long way.”

  “Why don’t you take Parker up on his offer, Jim?” Emma spoke over the noisy reaction of the crowd. “Really. Visit the place. I was over there the other day. Did you know all the renovation work is being done by local businesses?”

  Glaring at Emma through narrowed eyes, Jim opened his mouth as if to speak, but changed his mind. His already red cheeks were on fire. Finally, he said, “Well, I suppose you should know. You paid for all this.”

  Parker stiffened as he waited for Emma to shoot back a zinger. She didn’t. Instead, she stayed silent while a few others in the room jeered at Jim. This had to end. Wanting to give him a way to save face and make his exit, Parker again extended his invitation. “I can’t change your mind, but the invitation is open. Come by anytime. I’m at the center almost all the time. Come find me.”

  Parker gave the mic back to Stacey. A couple of seconds later, Mike tried to restart the festive atmosphere by urging everyone to help themselves to more food and wine. As the crowd began to move through the room, Parker watched Jim slip out the door without speaking to anyone.

  With his speech behind him, a crisis sort of averted, Parker had loosened up. He made his way to the food table, looking for Nic. He spotted her pulling out a chair next to Emma. Based on the contemptuous way Jim had looked at Emma, even before his rude remark, Parker assumed there was no love lost between them from the start. Yet, Emma had jumped right into the controversy without breaking a sweat.

  He got himself a glass of red wine and downed a couple of crackers topped with a shrimp concoction. When he turned around, Nic waved him to their table.

  Nic grinned as he approached, looking happier than he’d seen her in...he couldn’t remember when. “Nice goin’, Dad.”

  “Thanks, Nic. And to what you said, Emma.” Parker pulled out the chair on the other side of Nic. “I was obviously flying blind, but thought I had to say something. You all know the history.”

  Emma nodded. “I understand. Jim Kellerman never thought much of me or my husband, anyway. It’s true. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me from speaking. Besides, there’s not much he can do now except show up at events like this and make a scene.”

  Parker wasn’t sure he’d have described Jim’s two minutes of disgust as making a scene. It seemed much worse.

  Emma stared into space a minute, as if gathering her thoughts. “I thought your offer was great. The rest of us don’t even try to deal with Jim anymore. That’s what got to me.”

  Parker didn’t know about great, but it lowered the temperature in the room. “I hope he takes me up on it.” He had so much to learn about Emma, but she also knew only the top layer of him. But it seemed neither one of them was afraid to jump into a controversy.

  “We haven’t seen the last of Jim,” Emma said, addressing both Parker and Nicole. “He’s still clutching his grudge against Mike’s dad for not selling the land—and the lake—to him. He’s been on the town council for a long time. And now he has to deal with Mike almost every day.”

  “I’m used to going a few rounds over this sort of thing.” Parker still felt for Jim without knowing exactly why.

  Emma stood and pushed the chair back. Parker noticed the slight wince he was certain she was trying to hide. “I’m glad we had a chance to chat,” she said, giving Nicole’s shoulder a friendly pat. “And nice to see you again, Parker.”

  He got to his feet, ready to offer to walk her to her car, but Ty approached the table to take him to the interview with the newspaper reporter.

  “We’re lucky to get this kind of attention,” Ty said as they crossed the room. “We may not be a factory town, and we don’t have shopping malls. But maybe we’ll become known as the nature town.” Laughing, he added, “Or, who knows? Maybe our holiday festival will become the stuff of legends.”

  As he followed Ty, Parker took a quick look behind him and saw Emma taking labored steps toward the door. He reluctantly directed his attention back to Ty. Emma might be a donor, an important one, but she was obviously so much more. Parker didn’t understand why, but he decided Emma O’Connell was brave.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE WIND SLAMMED the rain against the patio doors with such force Emma could barely hear the updates from the weather service on the radio. For hours they’d repeated scary rainfall totals and flash flood warnings from the storm sweeping across the area.

  Facing the patio doors she raised her arms over her head and joined her palms. Doing exactly as the physical therapis
t instructed, she drew in a deep breath and held it, counting slowly from one to five. Exhaling slowly she bent forward at her waist until she felt the first mild twinge. She kept going, letting her hands hang loose, bending, bending, bending a little more until the eek escaped her mouth. Her body had reached the familiar eek point.

  She held her position, one second, two seconds, three...and trusted the quiet voice inside to signal when she reached her limit.

  She finished her stretching routine, paying extra attention to her left hip and thigh that had stiffened up the last few days. Disappointing, but not unexpected. It happened sometimes. A year ago, Emma’s back surgery had gone a long way in improving her mobility by relieving pressure on her leg and hip damaged in a fall over three years ago now. The neurosurgeon declared the surgery a great success. And it was. But she’d hoped the operation and rehab would eventually restore her full range of motion. She longed to walk and hike like she used to. That didn’t happen, and she’d almost accepted the old injuries had healed about as much as they were going to. More surgery wouldn’t help.

  Stretching and strength training weren’t optional for Emma. They made mobility—freedom—possible.

  Ending her routine the same way she always did, Emma murmured her latest mantra, “I grow stronger every day.”

  Most of the time she believed it.

  By the time she’d finished breakfast the sky had lightened a tiny bit, but the rain still fell in sheets and obliterated her view of the fields and woods from the patio doors. But for the moment she didn’t hurt anywhere. Little victories.

  The sound of her phone broke the silence and surprised her, even more so when she saw Parker’s name. It triggered a little buzz inside, too. Trying to be casual, she offered a chirpy, “Hey, good morning, Parker. Nice to hear from you.”

  “I hope I’m not calling too early.”

  “Not at all,” she said with a laugh. “It’s almost nine, hardly early. Looking outside, I imagine you won’t be pounding planks on the boardwalk today.”

  “For sure. The Riveras are spending the day cutting wood in their shop,” he said with a laugh. “I doubt I’ll see Mike and his little boy out rowing around, either.”

  “I suppose not.” What was with the small talk? They’d exhausted the weather in about ten seconds.

  “There’s a reason for my call, Emma. There’s something here at the sanctuary I want to show you. I think it will...hmm, intrigue you. I’ll leave it at that.”

  That took her mind off the weather, her hip, and everything else. “What is it?”

  “Ha. I’m not going to give you even a hint over the phone,” he teased. “I’d rather show it to you in person. Do you have time to stop by?”

  Oh, yes. “When were you thinking?”

  “Um, actually, I was thinking now...this morning.”

  Emma stared at the rain streaming down the glass doors. “Now? Haven’t you heard about the flash flood warnings?”

  An odd sound came through the phone. Was that a snicker? Was he making fun of her? Her shoulders stiffened. “Hey, are you laughing at me?”

  “I’m laughing at myself.” His voice carried an amused lilt. “Of course, you can’t get in your car and cruise on over. I wasn’t thinking. But I can come pick you up in my truck. It’s made to handle weather like this. I remember you said you don’t live far.”

  Emma chuckled. “Well, no, nothing is too far from anything else in Bluestone River.”

  “Right. So what do you say?” He paused. “I can leave now.”

  “Give me half an hour.” She shifted into adventure mode. She gave him her address and directions.

  “Okay, see you soon.” He ended the call.

  Silence. Emma stared at the phone, wondering what had just happened. The reception had been a week ago and she hadn’t stopped by or heard from him. But he’d wandered into her thoughts. A lot.

  She got ready in a hurry and was zipping up her raincoat on the porch when he pulled into the drive. He jumped out fast and went around to the passenger side to open the door. She grabbed the handhold overhead to help her step up and settle into the seat without looking too awkward.

  “Thanks for going along with me on this,” Parker said when he got back in and shifted into Drive. “I guess I was being kinda mysterious.”

  “Oh, just a little.” Emma liked playing off his sheepish expression.

  He looked at her with a mock frown. “I sure hope you’ll agree this bumpy ride is worth it.”

  Parker navigated fearlessly through the ponds forming on the streets. A few downed branches blocked sections of the sidewalk on River Street and smaller ones skittered along the ground in the wind.

  “The storm broke branches off out in the woods, like here on the streets in town,” Parker said, “but I didn’t spot any damage to the boardwalk. I’ll give it a closer look later.”

  “This is so much fun,” Emma said, laughing as Parker turned onto the road to the sanctuary and the wheels kicked up waves of water on both sides.

  The smile he gave her was private, intimate. “Yeah, it is. But I suppose not everybody would think so.”

  “I used to be much more adventurous. That’s why I’m so, so up for this.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she realized how silly she sounded. When had riding around town in the rain become something worth noting? Since she’d needed a walker to get around, a voice inside reminded her. But she was much better now—fewer limitations and ready for a change.

  “I’ll bet you have a yen for new things. And it’s all just begun.” He drove through the entrance arch and pulled close to the office building, angling the SUV so Emma’s door faced the entrance. “Wait until I unlock the office door before you follow me.”

  When Parker waved for her to come she stepped to the ground, letting her good leg take the weight before reaching for her cane.

  The office itself smelled oddly stale and looked in complete disarray. New shelving sat in piles waiting to be installed and every flat space was covered with boxes of tools and hardware or stacks of books and files.

  “This way,” Parker said, leading her past the long counter and into the alcove where a large dog kennel draped in a black cloth sat in the middle of a table. “Ready?”

  Emma nodded and slipped out of her coat, but eyed the cage.

  “Here she is,” Parker whispered as he rolled back the cloth.

  Emma gasped at what she saw—or who. A brown-and-tan owl stared at her through the wire. A one-eyed stare. The bird’s other eye was shut and swollen. She stepped closer and peered into the owl’s face. She’d counted herself lucky to see owls in her woods out back, but she’d never been close enough to have one to stare back at her.

  She looked up at Parker. “What happened to her? Is she blind in that bad eye?”

  “I don’t know yet. It might take a while to find out. But to answer your first question, we suspect she was hit by a car.” Parker sighed. “Truthfully, I’ve seen it too many times before. High winds and car headlights can confuse owls—they end up swooping in thinking they’re going after prey.”

  “We suspect? You mean you and Nicole?”

  Parker stared into the cage and nodded. “Nic found her. Nic was on her way to the bakery this morning when she spotted a sort of heap, as she described it, on the side of the road. She stopped to check her out thinking she was probably dead. Then Nic felt a heartbeat, so she swaddled the bird in a blanket to keep her from moving too much. Then she sort of wedged the owl on the floor of her SUV and came right back.”

  The owl inched away, as if trying to hide but didn’t have the strength to launch a move that would land her in the corner in one motion. “But you can help her now?” She heard the strain in her voice. “She seems so quiet for a bird not used to being in a cage.”

  “No guarantees, but I have a hunch she’s got a concussio
n. Could be a bad one. But she’s alive, and we can give her enough time to heal,” Parker said softly. “I gave her wings a once-over, but I’ll need to check them again.” He pulled on a pair of thin leather gloves he’d taken out of his pocket. “I’ll show you. Best to examine her as much as I can while she’s still lethargic.”

  “Be honest with me, Parker. Could she die?” Emma took in a breath, preparing herself for his answer.

  Parker’s eyes were soft when he nodded. “But losses are part of rescue work. It’s not that different when dogs are found alone and hurt and someone drops them off at a dog shelter. No guarantees with any of this kind of work.” Parker pointed to the gash. “I stopped the bleeding before I called you, but I see it’s seeping. I’ll clean it up again. You can help. But first I’m going to look for other injuries.”

  A hush fell over the room when Parker reached into the cage and gently took hold of the bird’s feet with one hand, and with the other, he cradled her body to keep her wings immobile. When he lifted her out of the kennel, she offered almost no resistance. “When she starts feeling better, she won’t sit still for all this handling.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Emma let out a soft groan of frustration. “I’m so glad you brought me here to see her. It’s a wonderful gift. But now I’ll worry about this owl until she’s back in the woods.” She paused. “And I already know I’ll miss her. How irrational is that?”

  “Yep, that’s the drill,” Parker agreed with an understanding smile. “Not irrational at all.” He paused before adding, “I realize I barely know you, but somehow I had a feeling you’d understand.”

  The rush of warmth in her body surprised her and she couldn’t find the right words to respond. Instead, she held his gaze and murmured, “Thank you for that.”

  “The center in North Carolina was so big—at times we had over one hundred birds—I didn’t do as much hands-on work. We had a core of volunteers and a big staff. That was great, but it meant I spent too much time on paperwork.” He tilted his head toward the bird to examine her closely.

 

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