“Tell Simon about your secret angel project,” her grandmother urged when the conversation didn’t move beyond her and Simon greeting each other. “Maybe he can help you. I think Hope’s brother is on Simon’s wrestling team at the middle school.”
Caro swallowed the last of her brownie. The idea of the secret angel gifts was to keep the donor secret from the recipient. But Charity’s lawyer said they could ask other people to help them. And she hadn’t actually decided to use her gift money to help Hope and her family. She glanced at Gram’s eager expression. Why not humor her? Simon had connections that might help her decide who to make her gift to.
“Okay.” Getting Simon’s help didn’t necessarily mean they would have to spend a lot of time together.
* * *
Simon listened intently while Caro explained about her friend Charity and the secret angel gifts. The idea and that Caro and her friends had done it back in high school touched him. Her expression became more animated as she talked and her features more beautiful. Maybe it was due to his pro-football years, but he didn’t often meet women who were beautiful outside and inside. His ex-wife had certainly proved beyond a doubt that she wasn’t.
“I haven’t decided to help Hope’s family yet. I don’t know if they need help. I can think of a lot of families who wouldn’t have $300 to spend on a nativity scene.” Caro stopped and her cheeks pinked becomingly. “I don’t even know the family’s last name.”
“Campbell,” Ruth supplied. “She’s in the Sunday school class I help with.”
“Yes, that I helped with this morning, too, and never thought to ask you or Gabriella for Hope’s last name.”
“I do have a Jake Campbell on my wrestling team. Tall. Dark-haired.”
“That’s him,” Ruth jumped in. “Seems like a good kid. He brings Hope nearly every Sunday.”
“Does the brother, Jake, remind you of anyone? Someone we might have gone to high school with?” Caro asked.
“No, not really.”
“I guess it must just be me, then.” Caro paused. “If Jake’s on your team, you must know where …”
“Is this seat taken?” Pastor Callahan asked, making his usual rounds.
Caro snapped her mouth shut, and Simon almost wished the seat were taken. He was intrigued by the secret angel project and maybe helping her with it. An entirely altruistic desire, of course.
“No, be our guest,” Ruth answered the pastor’s question.
“As I said, I’m glad to see you back on your feet, Ruth, and it’s good to have you with us for a few weeks, Caro.”
“Snowflake is a nice break from work. I plan to thoroughly enjoy the holidays here.”
“Good, good. And Simon, how’s your team looking?”
“I have some outstanding athletes this year. We were just talking about one of them, Jake Campbell.” Simon gave Caro an opening to ask Pastor Callahan about the family.
“Campbell? I don’t think I know the family,” Pastor Callahan said before she could take the opening, or Simon could even tell if she’d gotten his drift.
“Hope Campbell is in the Sunday school preschooler class I help with,” Ruth said.
“I guess I should talk with Gabriella and see about making a welcome-to-Snowflake-Chapel call. Now, I need to move on. I like to say hello to everyone on Sundays.” Pastor Callahan rose and walked to the next table.
“Thanks,” Caro said after the pastor had left.
“For what?” Simon asked.
“For giving me the idea to ask the pastor what he knew about the Campbells, which he answered without me asking.”
Simon warmed that she’d followed his train of thought. Communicating effectively with women wasn’t one of his strong points, even when he came right out with the words. Or so his ex-wife had told him. “And Pastor knew even less than we … you did.”
Caro pressed her lips together and nodded. “Maybe God is telling me to look for a different recipient. The Evangelism Committee would have a list of needy families. The chapel has always made Christmas gifts to people in need.”
Simon leaned back in his metal folding chair. “Or maybe He wants you to dig deeper and get to know the Campbells, so you can give them what they really need for Christmas.”
“I like your way of thinking,” Ruth said. “There was a reason Caro was drawn to little Hope in the This and That shop, and that you just happen to have Hope’s brother on your team.”
At what he figured was another attempt by his neighbor to get him and her granddaughter together, his gaze caught Caro’s. Her expression surprised him. Rather than looking irritated as she had yesterday at Ruth’s rather obvious matchmaking attempt, the corners of Caro’s mouth twitched as if she were trying not to laugh. Now, he strained not to chuckle.
“It’s all very intriguing,” Ruth said. “But I’m afraid I’m too worn out to help. I hate to admit it, but I need to go home and rest.”
Unexpected disappointment filled Simon when Caro said, “That’s okay Gram. I’ll take care of your plate and cup with mine and get you home.” She scooped up the two paper plates, napkins and cups. “Yours, too, if you’re finished.”
“Thanks. I guess I should be heading home, too.”
As he rose to leave and Caro walked toward the kitchen area, Ruth touched his hand. “Caro seems at odds with herself about something. Maybe her work. It can’t be easy working in emergency care.”
Simon shuffled his feet. He didn’t know about having a heart-to-heart talk with Ruth about Caro here in public. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
“This secret angel project may be just what she needs. If she asks you to help her, would you?”
Would he? Simon pictured Caro when she was telling him about being a secret angel. Her expression. Her animation. He might just help her, even if she didn’t ask him to.
Chapter Three
After searching online yesterday afternoon and again this afternoon, Caro hadn’t found a clue about little Hope’s family, except her mother’s first name. On the way home from her grandmother’s doctor’s appointment, Caro had run into the gas station convenience store to pick up bread, and Hope’s mother’s picture had been posted on the back of the cash register as Employee of the Week with her name Heather Campbell across the bottom. Bingo!
After arriving home, Caro had gotten her grandmother settled, and done a general internet search for Heather Campbell. She’d found a lot of information on the actress Heather Campbell, but little else. She’d dug down into social media sites—Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Linked In—in case the woman had a presence there that hadn’t shown up in the general search. Nothing. Next she’d tried Jake Campbell and Jacob Campbell. Nothing she found matched Hope’s older brother. Caro shut down her laptop with Jake and how familiar he looked still on her mind.
Her grandmother looked up from her knitting. “No, luck?”
“No. That obvious?”
“Let’s just say, I advise you to never play poker for money.”
“Gram, you are bad. I can’t stop thinking about how familiar Hope’s brother looks. If I could figure out who he looks like, maybe I could get some more information about the family and decide whether Hope’s mother might be a good choice for my gift.”
“Why don’t you look through your high school yearbooks. They’re all in a box in the closet of your room.”
“Brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?” Caro rose, the white of the heavy snow falling making the glass in the picture window in the living room nearly opaque. “When did it start snowing so heavily?”
Her grandmother laughed. “About the time you turned on your computer.”
She’d had no idea she’d been that absorbed in her research. “I’d better go out to the garage and make sure the snowblower has gas and is set to use. If it keeps up like it is, I may need to do an interim pass on the driveway to make the snow removal manageable when the it stops. Otherwise, we may not get out tomorrow.”
“No n
eed. Simon takes care of that with his monster snowblower. We have a deal. I give him money for gas and a home-cooked meal. He never wants to take the gas money, but I insist.”
“Simon teaches all day and has practice afterwards. I’m here all day, every day for the next few weeks. I think we can give Simon a break from the snow blowing.” As well as from your matchmaking.
“But, then, Simon will miss out on his meals. I don’t know how well he eats otherwise.”
From what she’d seen of Simon, it looked like he took pretty good care of himself. “Tell you what. We can still invite him to eat with us occasionally, even if he doesn’t snow blow the walks and driveway while I’m here.”
“You like him. I knew you would.”
“Yes, Gram, I like him. As a friend.”
“That’s a start,” her grandmother said with a smug smile.
And an end. Caro could see her and Simon as friends. Period. She went upstairs to get her warm hat and gloves. Halfway back down the stairs, she heard the whorl of an engine. She hurried down the remaining steps.
“Looks like Simon beat you to it,” her grandmother said.
Caro glanced at the clock on the DVR. School must have released early because of the weather. “Well, I could use some exercise after sitting at the computer so much of yesterday and today. If you’ll be okay, I’ll go out and help Simon.”
“I’ll be fine. There’s a scarf in the front closet. I think you’ll need it. And be sure to invite Simon in for coffee or hot chocolate when you two are done.”
“Will do.” Caro grabbed the scarf and her ski jacket, bundled up, and headed out the front door and down the walk Simon had just finished.
He was guiding the snowblower away from her on the city sidewalk toward the driveway. He turned into the driveway and raised his hand in a wave. She returned the wave, debating whether to walk the long way or plow across the front lawn to him. It had been a long time since she’d been out in the snow for much more than walking from her apartment to her car and her car to the hospital or a store. She opted for across the lawn, noticing the feel of her boots sinking into the growing accumulation and the splay of white she made when she kicked her feet forward.
Simon idled the snowblower as Caro approached, saying. “I thought I’d give you a hand on the sidewalk with Gram’s snowblower.”
“Thanks. I wanted to get a jump on things before the big snow comes tonight.”
Caro looked up at the barely visible sky, snowflakes stinging her cheeks and catching on her eyelashes. “How much are we supposed to get?”
“As much as three feet.” Simon grinned.
“I take it you like snow? Let me guess. You ski.”
“Not as much as I’d like to. Do you? Ski?”
Caro shook her head. “I’ve never been.”
“And you call yourself a Coloradan. I’ll have to see about rectifying that.”
“A transplanted Coloradan. My mother and I didn’t always live here with Gram.” She snapped her mouth closed. She rarely talked about her mother and never brought it up in conversation if she wasn’t asked about her. And here she was inviting Simon to ask her about her mother. “We’d better get moving if we’re going to get that jump on things you mentioned.”
“Right. I’ll get the snowblower out of your grandmother’s garage for you.”
“No need. I can manage.”
His jaw tightened, and her stomach copied it. She’d inadvertently rebuffed him again. “When we’re done, come inside and I’ll make some cocoa or coffee to warm us up.” Caro saw no need to tell him that had been Gram’s idea.
With an offhanded “sure,” he put his snowblower in gear and went back to clearing Gram’s driveway while Caro walked to the garage and went in. Someone, Simon she guessed, had put the snowblower by the side door to make it easy to get out, even with both her and Gram’s cars parked in the garage.
She pushed the snowblower out onto the snowy driveway and paused to watch Simon walking away from her toward the street end of the driveway. His purposeful, but fluid movement, the snow arcing from the machine to land just so on the righthand side of the driveway reminded Caro of watching him play—high school, college, and pro—in control, ready to move at a second’s notice to stop an opposing receiver from catching a pass. His enjoyment of winter as evident as his love of playing ball had been.
Caro started her snowblower. Over the years since she’d left Snowflake, she’d lost most of her childhood fondness for winter and had come to look at snow as something to fight her way through to get to or from work. She dragged her gaze from Simon and walked the snowblower across the driveway to start with the walkway from the garage to the front door. Maybe while she was here, God would show her some of the enjoyment of being outside … of life outside of work … that Simon had.
* * *
Ruth’s driveway done, Simon turned off his snowblower, ready to take Caro up on her offer of a hot drink. He could do his driveway later. At the rate the snow was still falling, he’d have to plow again in the morning. He watched Caro return from clearing his front walk, her rosy cheeks obvious, even from the distance.
“Hey,” she said when she reached him. “Ready for that hot chocolate?”
“Definitely.”
“Go on in, while I put the snowblower back in the garage.” She rubbed her arms before grabbing the handles again.
“You look cold. I’ll put it away.”
“I can do it.”
Simon worked to control the smile that threatened to spread across his face at the determination on hers—determination that the shiver running through her didn’t affect. He’d like to think he’d had something to do with that shiver, but knew it was from the cold.
“I know you can do it. But I would rather avoid a lecture from your grandmother about my letting you put the snowblower away.”
Caro’s expression turned thoughtful. “I guess. For someone who’s as independent as Gram, she certainly has enough outdated ideas for other people’s actions. You know she’s still trying to get us together.”
“I know.” He fought down the random urge to ask is it working? and grabbed her snowblower’s handles. “Maybe we should give in and go along for the time you’re here, while we’re working on your secret angel gift.”
Caro stared at him.
Simon frowned. He didn’t think that had been too strong. “You know work together as friends.” But what did he know about being friends with a woman? He’d never really had a female friend. When he was younger, he’d seen them more or less as a conquest. After his divorce, women were something to avoid.
“I guess we could. As friends. For Gram.”
“And for your secret angel gift recipient.”
“That, too,” she said, rubbing her arms again.
“Go on in. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Ostensibly turning the snowblower in the direction of the garage, Simon kept watch on Caro until she disappeared into the house. Then he headed toward the side door of the garage to put it away. Once he had it stowed, he let himself into the entryway between the garage and the house and rapped on the kitchen door.
After a short pause and a scraping sound, Ruth opened the door. “Simon, how many times do I have to tell you to come right in. You don’t have to knock. Caro just took the hot chocolate into the living room.”
“That was quick.”
“I already had it made. I heard the engines turn off, and figured you two would be right in.” A knowing smile curved her lips. “Of course, if you’d rather have coffee, I can put some on.”
“No, hot chocolate is fine.” He removed his winter wear and hung his coat on a hook by the door.
“Put your gloves and hat on the table, so they can dry a bit,” Ruth said.
He placed them there next to Caro’s mittens and hat, noting how small her mittens looked in comparison to his gloves.
Ruth bustled him into the living room, where Caro sat on the couch sipping her hot ch
ocolate. “And if I might impose on you for one more thing, would you start a fire for us?” Ruth asked.
“Gram, I offered …”
Ruth waved her off. “I didn’t realize how chilly it was in here before.”
Caro rolled her eyes, and Simon studied the reinforced toes of his black and gray socks before walking to the wood bin by the fireplace and starting a fire. While he was doing that, Ruth had settled into the recliner, making the only other seat one on the couch next to Caro. He sat, leaving a space between them, lifted the remaining mug of hot chocolate from the coffee table, and immediately took a sip to keep from chuckling at Ruth’s matchmaking.
The fire crackled in the silence.
“Now isn’t this nice?” Ruth asked without waiting for an answer. “Before you came over and Caro went out to help you, she was about to look at her old high school yearbooks to see if she could figure out who Hope’s brother looks like. Now, that you’re here, you can help her.”
Simon couldn’t shake the humorous thought that he was somehow on a play date with Caro arranged by Ruth.
Caro shook her head. “You don’t have to if you have other things to do.”
He studied her profile out of the corner of his eye, the soft curve of her cheek, the way her nose turned up a bit at the end. “Sure, I’ll stay and help. That’s what a friend would do.”
Caro coughed as if she were choking.
He reached over and patted her back. “Are you all right?” His heart pounded as he tried to remember his first aid training for a choking person.
Caro stopped coughing and straightened. He stopped patting, but left his arm resting on the back of the couch behind her.
“I’m fine,” she said, her eyes glimmering with tears. “I just swallowed wrong.”
“Here.” Ruth picked up a napkin from the tray on the coffee table.
Over the rim of his mug, Simon watched Caro place her hot chocolate on the coffee table and wipe her eyes with the napkin.
He tipped the mug up, finishing the last of his drink.
Caro's Gift (Small-Town Christmas Wishes Book 2) Page 3
