Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

“Just a mother’s paranoia. You know, when something seems too good to be true, it often is.”

  Before Cliff could say anything more, the front door opened and Doug Heller came in. He ran a meaty hand over his close-cropped, sandy-brown hair. “Hey, boss, we gotta get going.”

  “In a minute, Heller.”

  Heller’s jowly face tightened. “We got that meeting, remember.”

  Cliff’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “All right.” Then to Lexie, he said, “I’m just a slave to the job. You say hi to Katie for me, would you? And don’t worry about her or any secret life she might be leading. If you think she’s a good kid, then she is. Kids pick up on that, meet your expectations.”

  “Thanks, Cliff.”

  Lexie stared after him as he left, taken aback by his last statement.

  Had he been talking about himself?

  Had his father expected him to be the unreliable one and so he’d proven his father correct by becoming the town playboy? Whatever his reason for the advice, Lexie thought it was kind of him to be concerned about any worry she might have over her daughter.

  Cliff Drake might be the wild playboy of the Drake family, but he had a good heart. Several years back, Thornton Garden Center had been in trouble. It had looked like they might have to close up shop, or at the very least scale back to a flower and plant shop, which wouldn’t have made enough profit to support her and Katie, her parents and her sister, Carole.

  Then Cliff personally had sought her out to redesign the landscaping at Drake Enterprises, when in truth, it hadn’t needed to be redone. The following season, he’d hired her to redo the Manor at Drake Acres gardens.

  Lexie had always wondered if Cliff had hired her because he felt sorry for her. His kindness had given the business a well-needed boost. In the meantime, word spread about her landscaping capabilities, and the next thing Lexie knew, she had enough work to keep the family business afloat.

  She would always be grateful to Cliff for that.

  Lexie got back to work. Rather than taking lunch, she ate the sandwich she’d brought while giving instructions to workers putting up small tables near the dance floor, set in front of a low stage that would hold the band. Two high school kids who’d begged her for a way to make some Christmas money came in after school and set up a trio of different-size balsam trees at the far end of the ballroom, decorating them with hundreds of tiny white lights.

  By the end of the day, she was feeling good about their progress.

  Before leaving, she went in search of Marie, who was in the huge kitchen equipped with stainless steel work areas to handle banquets and a more intimate marble counter area for the smaller family and employee meals. That’s where she found Marie with Isabella and the housekeeper Shelley Zachary.

  In her mid-fifties, Shelley had an iron strength, both physically and psychologically, despite her slender appearance. Her hair was pulled back from a narrow face and her thin brows were penciled over eyes that always seemed to be inquisitive. Or so Lexie thought, after Marie told her to watch what she said around Shelley, since the housekeeper was a known gossip. Rather than hiring another butler after the murder of Edwin Leonard, Marie’s father, Brandon wanted Shelley to run the house, so the woman had moved into Edwin’s quarters off the kitchen, making Lexie wonder if Marie’s business was going to be all over town if she wasn’t careful.

  At the moment, Marie, Shelley and Isabella were at the marble counter area polishing the silver flatware that would be used at the ball.

  “Wow, I can see I’ve got the easy job,” Lexie said.

  Marie grinned. “That’s because you’re not domesticated. I’d rather do this any day than haul plants and trees around.” She held up a serving piece and inspected it. “There’s something satisfying about bringing out the beauty in… well, anything silver.”

  “A woman in love will fool herself into thinking real work is fun,” Lexie teased in return. “I just wanted to let you know I’m done for the day and everything is in good shape.”

  “Wait! Before you go…” Marie reached into her pocket to retrieve something. “I meant to ask you about this key yesterday, but it slipped my mind. It was found on the grounds where you and your crew did some winter prep work last week. I thought it might be yours.”

  All eyes were on the brass key as Lexie took it from Marie. Unique in design, it was solid and heavy, an old-fashioned, barrel-type key with a fancy leaf at the top.

  “I’ve never seen this before,” Lexie said, “but maybe it belongs to one of my crew.”

  “Keep it and show it to them, then. It doesn’t fit any of the doors in this house.”

  “Will do.”

  Giving the key a last look, Lexie realized that Isabella and Shelley weren’t the only ones interested. Ned Perry, nattily dressed as usual, his brown hair neatly combed to one side, was there, as well. The annoying land developer who was trying to get his hands on any available waterfront property was standing in the doorway, his gaze glued to the key. She quickly pocketed it in her sheepskin jacket.

  Ned practically jumped and cleared his throat. He looked past her to the other women. “Is Brandon home?”

  “No, he’s not, Ned,” Marie said. “And he’s not interested in selling any shoreline land, either.”

  “I’m sure if he hears me out, he’ll see things differently. New building would revitalize the area.”

  Lexie waved to Marie and quietly left the room.

  As she headed down the hallway, she thought about how the cutthroat developer wanted the Drake Enterprises-held shoreline so that he could build luxury condominiums and make himself a fortune.

  She was glad that Brandon didn’t want to sell. So much new building would change Jenkins Cove, and not necessarily for the better. In summer the roads were already congested with tourist vehicles. A new development of the size that Ned envisioned would mean congested roads all year round. Not to mention the myriad other problems that would result from nearly doubling the population of a small community all at once.

  Once outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air and tilted her face up to the sky. Snow was coming down in big, fat, lazy flakes. Smiling, she climbed into her SUV and took off.

  Her smile didn’t last long because she’d barely gone a mile before a higher area with scrubby brushes and pines came into view to her left. The sun had already set, casting long shadows over the area. She could see one of the pieces of heavy machinery parked there and a Jenkins Cove police vehicle parked off road, the cop inside apparently keeping an eye on the site. The state was still digging up the mass grave found earlier in the month as part of its investigation into human trafficking. They were still finding bodies.

  So many deaths in such a small town… Lexie’s mind went back to Simon dying so young. Marie really was right. Simon was gone and she had to stop thinking about him. Definitely had to stop dreaming about him, she thought, flushing.

  Lexie was glad to reach Thornton Garden Center, a long, low brick building with big windows filled with glass sun catchers and red poinsettias and amaryllis.

  Upon entering, Lexie looked for her mother. She gazed around the store, but didn’t see her among the customers, who were mostly checking out the Christmas ornaments in baskets set among the plants in the windows. Her sister, Carole, an older, shorter version of Lexie, except for her henna-enhanced, reddish-brown hair, was at the register behind the counter.

  “Hey, is Mom out back with Dad?”

  Her father was in charge of the landscaping supplies sold in the attached sheltered area, and during the holiday season, the Christmas trees in the outside area beyond.

  “Nope. She made him take her home early. She’s in her cookie-making mode and couldn’t think about anything else. Phil took over for Dad.”

  “I didn’t get my invitation to join you.”

  Carole just laughed. “Is that why you’re gunning for Mom?”

  “If I didn’t give her a hard time about it, she would think something was wron
g.”

  Though she was exhausted, Lexie went to the far side of the counter and checked her desk/design center and found a message from one of her business customers requesting more poinsettia plants and a couple of wreaths for the company Christmas party next week. No sense in waiting until the morning. She called Phil on the intercom and told him what she needed just as the police chief entered and walked to the other end of the store, straight to the refrigeration unit holding floral arrangements.

  A squat bulldog of a man, Chief Hammer was no one’s favorite. He had a reputation for letting things slip by him. Lexie had always thought he was just plain lazy. Thankfully, the state had taken over the mass grave tragedy. If it was up to Hammer, he would probably have left the bodies where they were and buried the investigation. Pulling a bouquet from the refrigerator, he made his way to the counter just as Phil Cardon came from the back, carrying a couple of wreaths.

  Probably in his early thirties, Phil was a seasonal worker for the garden center. He made his living doing odd jobs in town and looked the part, wearing scruffy jeans, work boots and a raggedy jacket.

  “These are what we have left right now. Do you think they’re big enough for a business?”

  “They’re on the small side.” Lexie frowned. She didn’t want to disappoint a good customer. “When you make the delivery, check with the administrative assistant, Rosemary. Tell her if she can wait until Monday, we can make up a few bigger ones for her.”

  “Okay.” He turned to go.

  Remembering that Phil had been part of her grounds crew at Drake House, Lexie said, “Wait a minute.” She pulled the key from her jacket pocket. “Someone lost this on Drake property. Any chance it’s yours?”

  Phil pushed straggly brown hair from his eyes and shook his head. “Not mine.”

  “If anyone mentions a lost key, let me know.”

  Phil nodded and headed toward the back.

  “Lost key, huh?” Chief Hammer said from the counter, where Carole was wrapping his flowers. “Can I see it?”

  Not knowing why, Lexie was reluctant to hand the key over to him. She let it nestle in her palm and kept it out of his reach.

  “Unusual key.” He held out his hand, indicating she should turn it over to him. “Maybe I should take it for safekeeping until the rightful owner claims it.”

  “It’ll be safe enough with me.” Lexie closed her hand. “I’ll see my other workers tomorrow. I’m sure one of them dropped it.”

  “Here you go, Chief,” Carole said.

  Hammer stared at Lexie for a moment before turning to take his purchase.

  What was that all about? she wondered as the police chief left. No doubt one of Hammer’s little power plays. He liked being seen as the big man in town even if he didn’t want to do the work that came with the designation.

  Realizing that she still had the key in her hand, she slipped it into a back pocket where it would stay put.

  “You look beat,” Carole said. “Maybe you ought to go home and take a bubble bath or something.”

  “Or something,” Lexie agreed, suppressing a yawn. Right now, her bed called to her. “Are you sure you don’t need me?”

  Carole rolled her eyes. “I lock up in less than half an hour. Just go.”

  “Okay, then.” Lexie slipped into her jacket and headed for the door. “Have a good time tonight. Tell Mom I expect to have enough cookies to gorge on.”

  Thoroughly exhausted, Lexie was glad the drive home was short. Snow was still falling, but there was little new accumulation. Five minutes later, she pulled up in the gravel parking area next to the house. Yawning while clambering out of the SUV, she dragged herself toward the front door and pulled her keys out of her shoulder bag.

  Almost to the door, she heard a shuffle behind her. Heart thumping, she turned to see a figure dressed in dark clothing, face covered by a ski mask, advance on her.

  The man she’d seen the night before?

  Was he stalking her?

  Though her chest squeezed tight, she tried not to panic.

  Knowing she couldn’t make it inside, Lexie threw her shoulder bag as hard as she could and hit him square in the face, then ran, her pulse jagging. She heard him curse and come after her. Not interested in money, then.

  Her heart hammering, she ran flat out around the house, hoping to reach the wood stack in back, where she could arm herself with a split log. Maybe she could knock the man out, then get inside.

  In the side yard, she slipped on the snowy grass and nearly fell, the interruption long enough for her attacker to catch up to her. Her scream for help was cut off when he tackled her.

  She went down hard, her breath knocked out of her, yet struck back with the hand holding her keys. Before she could connect with his head, he grabbed her wrist and pounded it against the ground. The keys went flying into the snow. Undaunted, Lexie continued to fight and squirm away as the man started feeling her up.

  Weirdly, the attack didn’t seem sexual in nature. It was as if her assailant were searching for something, patting her jacket pockets and trying to get his hands inside them.

  Though she bucked and struck out, she was unable to get him off her. “What do you want?”

  When he didn’t answer, she clawed at the mask.

  He knocked her hand away and hit her in the head so hard her vision went out of focus and her limbs went limp so that she had to struggle to remain conscious.

  He was slipping his hands under the jacket now, feeling the sides of her jeans. Had she been wrong about this not being sexual? Her stomach lurched and she was about to renew her battle, when suddenly her attacker rose off her as if by magic.

  Lexie took a deep breath and scooted back to see her masked assailant struggling with another man. A tall and broad man with slicked back brown hair and heavy-lidded eyes.

  Unless she really was seeing a ghost, it was…

  “Simon?”

  Chapter Four

  Lexie’s cry caught Simon off guard and the bastard who’d attacked her got a moment’s advantage, nearly delivering a kidney punch. Honed reflexes allowed Simon to drop and divert the blow. He landed on one knee, and when the attacker kicked out, he grabbed the bastard’s foot and twisted. The man flipped around and landed on the ground.

  Lexie was groaning, and Simon gave her a quick glance to see her struggling to her feet.

  Enough time for the attacker to get to his feet and run off.

  Though Simon would have liked to go after the bastard, he was more concerned about Lexie.

  Fearing that she was hurt, he swept her up into his arms. “Let’s get you into the house.”

  “Keys,” she whispered with a groan, indicating the area to the right of where she had fallen.

  Simon moved in that direction, carefully sweeping the snowy ground with his gaze. There was just enough light to see the skid marks made by the keys. He reached out blindly and felt around for a few seconds before feeling metal against his fingertips.

  “Got ’em.”

  Lexie seemed to be coming back to herself. She started pushing against him. “Let me down. I can walk.”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  Not that Simon was about to let her down. He carried her around the house to the front door, picking up her shoulder bag along the way.

  As he sorted through the keys, he felt Lexie’s gaze on him, but he didn’t look at her. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d been unable to keep himself from spying on her.

  “I missed you all these years, Simon. You don’t know how much. That’s why I let Marie talk me into going to the psychomanteum yesterday.” Seeming confused, only half-aware, Lexie continued babbling. “I wanted to see you one last time before I said goodbye forever. Now that I have, I don’t want to let you go.”

  Simon realized that the smack from her attacker must have scrambled her brains. He got her inside, kicked the door closed behind them, then carried her to the oversize couch, upholstered in a brown and burgundy design, and gent
ly set her down against the myriad pillows.

  “Let me look into your eyes.”

  “I always loved it when you looked deep into my eyes and I looked into yours…”

  She was trying to do that now.

  “I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” Kneeling in front of her, he pulled a pencil-thin maglite from the pocket of his leather bomber jacket and, lifting her chin a bit, shone the light in her eyes. “Your pupils are even and dilating properly. No concussion.”

  So why was she so confused?

  Psychomanteum? What the hell was that?

  Suddenly Lexie blinked and her expression shifted. As if testing, she poked him in the chest. “Wait a minute, you’re no ghost! You’re alive!”

  Simon got to his feet and backed away. “That I am.”

  The confusion cleared, leaving shock in its place. “But they told me you were dead!”

  “I assure you, I am very much alive, Lexie.”

  “Oh my God!” Lexie lunged off the couch and threw herself against him. “You’re alive! You’re really alive!” she said through her tears.

  And then she kissed him, plunging him back thirteen years, to the night they’d made love, had made plans to start a life together, away from Jenkins Cove. Instead, he’d started a new life without her. A life he would never be able to forget… or share with her.

  He didn’t want her to know what he had become.

  So it was he who broke the kiss and pushed away the one person in the world who meant anything to him. The only woman he’d ever loved.

  “Simon?” Lexie blinked and wiped away her tears, focused on his face as if really seeing him for the first time. “Simon, if you weren’t dead, why didn’t you come for me? Why did you leave me? I’ve spent thirteen years mourning you. What happened? You simply chose to play dead and on the very night I was going to run away with you?”

  “I had no choice in what happened to me.”

  Lexie shook her head. “We all have choices.”

  Her accusing expression and tone put Simon’s back up. “Not always. Sometimes things are out of our control.”