“It asks for an email address. So maybe they’ll email me the records.” She paused her typing. “Can you check whether the obit has Rob’s dates of birth and death?”
“It does.” He gave her the dates.
Caro rechecked all the information she’d entered and clicked the print icon.
“I’ll get the printouts,” Simon said.
While he was in the other room, she reined in her disappointment that what he’d found out hadn’t brought her much closer to a real plan for her secret angel gift.
“Here you go,” Simon said as he reentered the room.
She stood at the same time that he moved from the doorway to close the space between them. They ended up facing each other inches apart. She looked up. He looked down, bending slightly toward her upturned face. Her pulse quickened. Was he going to kiss her? She’d never kissed a man with a beard. Stubble, yes. Her pulse raced. How would it feel to kiss a man with a beard? This man.
She shut out the thought, blinked, and prayed for strength to resist the temptation. She didn’t want to lead Simon on to a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. She fully realized that she wasn’t equipped for anything long-term. She was as broken as her mother. Her job would have to be enough. Caro blocked the are you so sure? that instantly popped into her mind and cleared her throat.
“I’d better get back. I don’t know how long Gram’s friend plans to stay.”
Simon jerked straight up to his full height. “Ah, right.”
She scooped up her other printouts from the table and held them to her chest with crossed arms. “Thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime.”
She walked to the recliner, placed the printouts on the arm, and put on her coat, sensing him behind her.
“If you send the form priority mail tomorrow, the court should have it by Thursday,” he said.
“I plan to. But I won’t hear back until the middle of next week, which will only give me two weeks to put everything together.” She retrieved her printouts in her left hand and placed her right hand on the doorknob. “See you. Thanks again”
“See you. Let me know what you find out.”
“Will do,” she said, ducking out without meeting his gaze and closing the door behind her. That had gotten weird after she’d imagined he was going to kiss her. Now out in the crisp winter air with all her senses alert, she knew it had been her imagination. Had it been that long since she’d been alone with a guy? Caro didn’t bother answering herself, since it had been.
* * *
“Back already?” Caro’s grandmother asked when she walked in.
“Yep, I didn’t know how long Mrs. Afzali—”
“Aaela, please,” Mrs. Afzali said.
“How long you planned to stay and, really, all I needed to do was pick up the information Simon had for me.” Caro pulled off her gloves and unzipped her jacket.
Her grandmother picked up the TV remote and paused whatever she and her friend were watching. “We put on a movie a few minutes ago, figuring you’d be gone a while.”
More like Gram was hoping she’d spend more time with Simon.
“Want to join us?” Gram asked.
Caro glanced at the clock on the DVR. Eight fifteen. “No thanks. I’m going to run up to the This and That Shop before it closes at nine.” She could at least get started on her secret angel gift. “That is, if you’re staying a while, Aaela.” She didn’t want to impose on her grandmother’s equally elderly friend.
“I plan to stay until the movie ends,” Aaela said.
“Great. I’ll be back in a little bit.” She re-zipped her jacked and pulled on her gloves.
When Caro entered the store, she went right to the clerk, a different one than the person who’d been there on Saturday. “Hi, when I was here on Saturday, I was looking at an antique nativity scene. Do you still have it?”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s been sold. Beautiful wasn’t it?”
Caro’s heart sank. How was she going to find another nativity scene even similar to that one before Christmas? She’d already deposited the gift check, but maybe she should rethink participating.
“Can I help you with anything else?” the clerk asked.
“No, thanks. Wait, yes. If by any chance you get in any similar nativities before Christmas, could someone from the store give me a call?”
“Sure, although I can’t guarantee we’ll get in anything like it.” The clerk gave her a message pad to write on.
“There you go.”
The clerk took the pad. “You might check online.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.” Caro turned and almost ran into her high-school friend, Mia. “Hi, I’ve been meaning to call you, since I had to leave to get back to Gram as soon as our meeting was done at the lawyer’s Saturday.” She had meant to call Mia but had been procrastinating.
“Have you decided about the secret angel gift?” Mia asked.
“I thought I had, but my idea is already running into roadblocks. How about you?”
“Definitely, giving a gift,” Mia said. “Remember, you can get help from other people.”
“Yeah, I am. I told Gram all about it.”
“And your grandmother’s handsome neighbor, by any chance? I saw the three of you with your heads together after church on Sunday.”
Caro chose her words carefully. She didn’t want Mia getting the same ideas about Simon that Gram had. “I don’t know too many people in Snowflake that well anymore, so Gram thought Simon, with his school connections, might be able to help me get some information about the gift recipient I have in mind. She and her family are new to town.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mia said.
Caro hoped it was, and not a wild goose chase.
“Hey, remember how we used to sit on the bleachers pretending to be studying and drool over Simon and the other guys at football practice?” Mia asked with a laugh. “We were such dorks.”
“Yes, I do.” Although Simon was the only one Caro expended any drool on. “And yes, we were.”
Another customer came in and scooted around them.
“Rather than block the aisle, we should get together for lunch or something, maybe with some of the others,” Mia said. “Cupcakes on Main isn’t far from the Little Corner Bistro. Let me know.”
“That would be nice. I will.”
Mia took a step toward one of the shop displays. “And have fun working out your gift and with you know who,” she called over her shoulder.
Caro let the shop door close by itself behind her. Right, fun. She’d lost out on buying the nativity, the one part of her gift plan she thought she had under control. While she and Simon had figured out who Hope’s family was, she wasn’t really any closer to finding out where they lived and what they might need. Maybe she should drive to Littleton tomorrow and personally drop off the form requesting a copy of Rob’s will, rather than sending it priority mail. Take Gram with her. Make is a day. Check out some antique shops for nativity scenes.
As for having fun with Simon, despite her earlier delusion that Simon had wanted to kiss her, and her momentary loss of sanity that she wanted him to, fun with her grandmother’s neighbor definitely was not in her plans.
Chapter Five
Two days later, Simon sat in the middle school’s physical education teachers’ office waiting for the final release bell. He was still unable to wipe away the truth that he’d wanted to, almost had kissed Caro Tuesday night at his house. And he might be flattering himself. But he didn’t think so. Caro had almost let him—until she’d made a dash for the door and her grandmother’s house, and he hadn’t seen or heard from her since.
The bell sounded with the accompanying roar of student voices in the hall, and he stood to head to the gym for wrestling practice. Jake appeared at the office door. On crutches. Simon glanced down for a cast or protective boot. The teen had what looked like new gym shoes. One laced tightly; the other laced loosely. He stood on his left leg with the right
knee bent slightly. To get here ahead of the others, he must have been let out of class before the final bell.
“I … um … am not going to be able to practice for a few days, but I should be good for the meet next week.”
“What did you do to yourself?” Simon asked.
Red spread across Jakes cheek bones. “I was splitting wood. We were running low on pieces that fit in the wood stove.” He flexed his fingers on the crutch grips. “You know to heat. To conserve heating oil.” Jake dropped his gaze to the floor.
Or because they didn’t have any heating oil?
“I’m supposed to wear my da … my steel toed hiking boots when I chop wood. I didn’t. The splitting maul slipped and cut clean through my shoe.” Jake raised his head. “But it’s only a few stitches. I’ll be able to wrestle at the holiday meet.”
“As long as your doctor says so.”
Jake pulled his gaze from his. “Yeah.”
“You’d better get going or you’ll miss your bus.”
The teen rocked on his crutches. “I told Mom I probably should come to practices, so I don’t miss anything. She said it’s okay.”
“Sure. Take a seat on the bleachers.” Simon watched Jake make his way across the gym to the sound of the rest of the team arriving. This was a new one. He’d had students come in with excuses for missing practice plenty of times. But not with an excuse to come to practice when they could skip it.
Simon blew his whistle at the end of practice. “All right, hit the showers.”
The team members trooped into the locker room, while Jake pulled himself up onto his crutches. Simon watched him start hobbling toward the door to the hall.
“Campbell.” Simon strode toward him, an idea forming in his head. “Do you have someone picking you up?” The late sports busses only made drop-offs on main roads. He wished he were allowed to offer Jake a ride, not only to save the teen from possibly having to walk some distance in the snow on crutches to get home, but also for a clue where that home was for Caro. The only address he’d been able to get from the school district was a PO Box in Snowflake.
“Mom’s picking me up at the end of our road.” Something flickered in Jake’s eyes.
Pain? Fear? He’d been reading too many suspense novels. It had to be pain. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“Right coach.” Jake headed for the hall and Simon for the locker room.
Following the last of his wrestlers outside, Simon took his time walking the line of school buses to his car. In the last bus before the parking lot, he spied Jake and noted the bus route number in the front side window. He could check the bus routes on the school district website and get an idea where Jake and his family lived. And there was Jake’s statement about using wood to conserve heating oil. In his eagerness to get home and share what he’d learned with Caro, Simon had to pull his foot off the gas pedal and tap the brakes several times to slow down to the town speed limit.
Once home, he threw off his coat and gloves and reached for his cell phone. Then he stopped himself. Caro and Ruth were probably having supper. He didn’t want to interrupt their meal. Simon picked up the mail he’d tossed on the coffee table, opened and leafed through it before heading to the kitchen with the junk mail to trash. Next he made himself a salad and put his leftover Stouffers lasagna from yesterday in the microwave to reheat it. Then he pulled out his phone again and checked the time before pressing Caro’s number. At ring six, he figured either they were still eating, or Caro was ignoring him. He braced himself for her voicemail, wavering on whether to hang up or leave a message. Personally, he hated when people hung up without leaving a message on his phone.
“Hi.”
Caro’s greeting solved his problem. “Hey, if you’re not busy, I have some information about the Campbells. I found out which late bus Jake takes, so I have a general idea of where they live.” He waited for signs of Caro’s appreciation for his work.
“I can do you one better,” she replied, deflating his ego, which probably deserved it. “I received an email with Rob’s will today. I know exactly where they live. More or less.”
* * *
Caro listened to the near silence on the other end of the call. Only the soft sound of Simon’s breathing indicated he was still there. She’d done it again. Unintentionally shot down Simon.
“That’s great,” he said, his voice only slightly less upbeat than when he’d shared his discovery.
His stove or microwave dinged in the background. “I don’t want to keep you from your supper.” She knitted her brows. Except he’d been the one who’d called her. Not that she hadn’t planned on calling him a little later with her news.
“No problem. You should be all set now.”
“Wait.” She wasn’t ready to let him go. “I have an address, but I don’t know where the house is.” She pressed her lips together. After her one-up on him, she was waiting for Simon to tell her to GPS or Google Map it. “You know the area better than I do,” she pushed out ahead of his response.
“What’s the address?” he asked.
Caro breathed again. “5 Beaver Pond Road.”
“It must be a side road off Big Bear Road. Maybe a private road. I think I remember Rob saying his grandparents had a small ranch. I could do some digging.”
“That’s okay. I can check it out. What I’d really like is for you to drive out there with me and look around. Sometime when we wouldn’t look conspicuous.” Not that she knew what they’d look for or had consciously planned to put him on the spot.
“I know. We could make a church-related Sunday school visit. Remember, pastor mentioned that at coffee hour. I’m on the church council, and you’re helping with Hope’s class.”
Caro chewed her bottom lip. “I guess.” Church visits were more her grandmother’s thing. “Maybe Gram could come along.”
“Sure, if she’s up to it. I’ll talk with the pastor tonight and pick up some literature from the church. I think we have invitations to our Christmas Eve Service ready to go out. Is tomorrow evening good for you?”
“No, Saturday during the day would be better if you don’t have anything else going on. I think I could get a better look at the house, the family’s situation in the daylight.”
Simon nodded. “Morning or afternoon. I have nothing planned.”
Sadly, Simon’s life sounded a lot like hers. If she were home, she’d just be doing laundry or cleaning, possibly on call for the ER,
“Morning is better. Then, I’d have the afternoon to gear up for the town Christmas tree lighting. Gram asked me to take her.”
Simon laughed. A rich, full sound that made Caro smile, even though she didn’t know why he was laughing.
“She asked me to take her, too,” he said.
Caro shook her head. “She’s at it again. Matchmaking.” Strangely, the idea of Simon coming along with them didn’t ignite the irritation Gram’s previous matchmaking ploys had.
“To cut your grandmother some slack, she asked me several weeks ago when I visited her at rehab.”
“I suppose we’ll have to let it go, then.”
His voice dropped. “I suppose we will.”
Caro cleared her throat. “Then, I’ll see you Saturday morning.”
“Right. What time?”
“Let’s say we leave at 10:00?”
Caro warmed at Simon jumping right in to help with her secret angel gift. Or, maybe the warm feeling stemmed from spending more time with Simon working out the logistics of getting more information about the Campbells.
“Works for me,” he answered.
“Well, I’ll let you go. B—.”
“Wait,” he interrupted.
Caro smiled. Was Simon as reluctant to end the call as she was? Perhaps they could have a casual, friends-only relationship as long as they both were straight that that’s all it could be.
“I have some other information you might be interested in.”
She frowned in disappointment. The delay in ending
the call wasn’t personal. It was about the secret angel gift. But her reason for keeping him on the call earlier had started out about the gift, too. That and not having talked to Simon for a couple of days.
He told her about Jake’s accident splitting wood.
Caro shuddered. “Thank God he wasn’t hurt worse.”
“Copy that. And what he said meshes with what you said about Hope complaining that her old house was warmer.”
“It sure does. Heating oil runs more than $3 a gallon. I checked. So, filling a 275-gallon tank would cost more than $800. Even a minimal delivery of 150 gallons would be at least $450.
“And there’s no way 150 gallons would last the winter,” Simon said
“Propane would be less expensive,” she mused. “I might have to come up with a bigger gift to spend all the money.”
“No, Jake definitely said heating oil. And I don’t think you’ll have any problem using up your money giving them heat help.”
“True.”
“Caro, can you come help me?” her grandmother called.
“You’d better go,” Simon said.
Caro ended the call with a “bye,” as she walked from the kitchen to the living room where her grandmother was.
Simon was right about her having no problem using all the money on heating oil. But making a real difference was her goal, not just spending all the money. The nativity scene was supposed to do that. Replace something the family had lost, something that might help them heal. The nativity scene she’d seen at the This and That Shop that she’d let slip away from her. The nativity scene that she wasn’t having any luck finding a replacement for. The nativity scene, the loss of which, hit her too close to home.
Chapter Six
Simon woke up Saturday wishing for a child/teen-free weekend. He’d spent a very long Friday with high school history students suffering a bad case of Christmas-itis even though they had two weeks until the holiday break. He got out of bed and scraped his fingers through his hair. Except, he’d made plans with Caro to call on the Campbell family this morning. And spending time with Caro this morning and this evening at the town Christmas tree lighting, where they were bound to see some of his students, outweighed his temporary aversion to running into Post-Millennials.
Caro's Gift (Small-Town Christmas Wishes Book 2) Page 5
