Sweet Joymaker

by Jean Oram

  Maria opened the change purse she kept in her jeans back pocket. “I’ll buy one. How much are they?”

  The woman gestured to her small display of different-sized ornaments, with prices to match. There were hand-painted lighthouses, animals, beach scenes, and a few quotes from poems she recognized. The artist had patience and a steady hand. It was a talent Maria had long ago ignored in herself. How had Clint known she was an artist? Had he merely guessed? And was she an artist? She didn’t feel she could call herself one.

  She lingered over the ornaments, finally choosing one that said Family Is Where the Heart Is.

  She paid for it, then silently held the painted clamshell between her hands, breathing slowly as she faced the giant tree. She inhaled its pine scent mixing with the salty air around her. Overhead a gull cried, and she continued to breathe and hold the ornament as though transmitting her hopes, fears and dreams into it.

  When she was ready, she made her wish, then reached up to hang the shell deep in the branches, where it would be safe. A small bird flew out from its hiding spot among the needles, and Maria squealed and laughed.

  “It likes to do that to people,” the woman said. “Why don’t you wait until Christmas Eve to hang it, so your wish can come true? That’s when everyone comes back with their ornament.”

  “I’ll be home in Texas by then.” And trying to figure out how to do Christmas with her boys and her ex. She wasn’t looking forward to that. “Is it okay if I put my ornament on now?”

  The woman shrugged. “There’s no law against it.”

  But would her wish come true?

  Probably not.

  Her son Cole had been away from home for almost five years now. No cards, no emails. Nothing but silence.

  Maria stepped back from the tree, worried that she’d jinxed her wish by not adhering to the town’s tradition. Shoving her hands deep in the pockets of her sweatshirt, she headed toward the pier that stretched out over the ocean.

  She was a block away when she spotted a man walking toward her, strolling along as though he had all the time in the world.

  For a moment she thought her wish had already come true. But as the clouds above shifted, sending a stream of sunshine onto the man heading her way, she realized she hadn’t conjured up her long-lost son, but Clint Walker.

  With every step he took toward her with that warm smile upon his face, she realized her response actually resembled homesickness and longing. She missed Cole as only a mother could, but there was something about Clint that made her feel as though she’d been denied something equally important for far too long.

  She wasn’t sure what it was, but she vowed she would find out before he left Indigo Bay.

  “Maria,” Clint said warmly, causing her heart to lift as he wrapped her in an embrace that snugged her briefly against him. He released her with a kiss on the cheek in a way that seemed European. At the last minute she almost gave in to the urge to turn her mouth to meet his.

  “Are you Italian?” she asked. He had black hair and a complexion that always looked sun-kissed.

  “I don’t think so, but maybe,” he said. “Are you?”

  “Cherokee and Spanish, or so I’ve been told.”

  “That explains those beautiful cheekbones and deep brown eyes of yours.” He gave her an appreciative look that sent a rush of heat through her. She wasn’t used to being gazed at like that, and fought the temptation to encourage him to provide more details about just how gorgeous he found her.

  “Are you putting the base coat on the scooter tonight?” she asked. They began to walk along the pier together, a few birds resting on the railings, heads tucked under their wings.

  It felt natural bumping into Clint, walking and talking, assuming they’d spend time together. She had a feeling she’d miss him when he returned home tomorrow night.

  “Brewster figures we can do it tonight after supper. I still think it would look good with some original art on it.”

  “Flames?”

  Clint chortled. The scooter had been speedier than she’d assumed, but not so much she felt flames fit its character. He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and began scrolling through pictures before showing her a close-up of a spot on the front wind guard.

  They stopped walking, Clint’s shoulder brushing hers. “We’re thinking we could paint a little scene below the headlight.”

  “That could be nice.”

  “We just aren’t sure what would look good and appeal to many.” He put his phone away.

  “You don’t have much time to paint something like that.” They were five days out from the gala, and Clint had only another twenty-four hours in Indigo Bay.

  He shrugged. “That’s Brewster’s job. I’ll help as much as I can, but bodywork’s not my specialty.”

  “You should stay longer and help him.”

  “Yeah?”

  She lifted a shoulder, trying to look casual. “Sure.”

  “Say I managed to take a few more days away from my shop…” His eyes lingered on her face. “What would a guy like me do around here for that long?”

  “I’m sure you could think of something.” She patted his arm and began walking again.

  “You fly straight to Dallas on Friday morning?”

  She nodded. Brant would pick her up at the Dallas airport on his way to the high school state championship game. She’d ride home to Sweetheart Creek with him afterward.

  “So if I moved my flight, we’d have a few days to get into trouble?” Clint rubbed his hands together as if plotting something evil.

  “I’m helping with gala prep.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m doing some running around and crafty stuff.”

  “You craft?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “And that’ll keep you busy all day, every day, until Friday?”

  She smiled.

  “It won’t. You’re going to be bored. You were bored during your retirement and the idea of being stuck alone all day with nothing to do has you breaking out in hives.” He grabbed her arm and pushed up her sweatshirt sleeve, making her squeal. “Yup. As I suspected. Hives.”

  She checked her arm. Clear of any kind of rash. “No hives.”

  “I am hereby reporting for duty and will extend my stay to keep you healthy and safe from more hives.”

  She laughed.

  “Hives are very serious business, Maria.”

  “You can’t neglect your business because I might get bored, Clint!” She pressed a hand against his forearm and he crooked it, tucking her arm so it was hooked in his. She leaned against him slightly as they walked, and he did the same.

  “If I stay will you paint something on the scooter for us?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “No time.”

  “That’s not the actual issue.”

  Maria felt a jolt of surprise, at his mildly stated, but firm disagreement. She took a second look at Clint.

  He seemed amused. “You’re not used to people challenging you, hanging on your every word, spoken or unspoken.” He had a teasing glint in his eyes and she narrowed her own.

  “As a matter of fact, people don’t mess with me.”

  He gave a long, deep bow. “Forgive me, my queen.”

  Some joggers turned to take a second look as they went past.

  Maria laughed self-consciously. “Unbend your spine, you silly old man.”

  He placed a hand on his back and groaned. “I’m stuck!”

  She squeezed his arm, her amusement becoming concern. “You are not.”

  He grinned and straightened. “Anyway, I thought we weren’t old? Weren’t in our golden years yet?”

  “Do you remember everything I say?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, that could be a problem. He was going to hold her to things she wasn’t sure she was ready to be held to.

  “How about this?” Clint asked, draping an arm acros
s her shoulders as he led her toward a stand selling roasted nuts. She felt cozy and safe that way, the gesture natural. “You help with the scooter and I’ll help with your crafty stuff. I’ll see if I can stay all the way to Friday and we’ll get into wonderful mischief and run away from home because the ocean keeps calling us.”

  She laughed.

  “I’m serious.”

  “If you can help with crafty stuff, why can’t you paint a scene on the scooter?”

  He paid for a bag of warm nuts and offered her first dibs. “Probably because it’ll look like it got splattered on there by a gifted elephant.”

  Maria laughed again, the image clear in her mind. “That might work, you know.”

  He frowned into the distance. “Weren’t we going to have supper if we bumped into each other tonight?”

  “This doesn’t count?” She nudged the bag of nuts.

  “Only if you add a corn dog from over there, and a coffee from there.” He pointed to other food stands. “But that’s not—”

  “Done deal.”

  “—what I had in mind.”

  “But it works for me. Doesn’t it work for you?”

  He was frowning, his wonderfully dark brown eyebrows knitted together.

  “Loosen up, Clint. It’ll be memorable. More so than some burger joint.”

  His gaze found hers, his brows relaxing as that warmth reentered his eyes. “Who are you? Where’s Maria Wylder?”

  “What?”

  “You implied a hodgepodge meal would be more special than a sit-down dinner, and told me to loosen up.”

  “So?”

  “So?” He looped his arm through hers again. “I like that you want to do special things with me.”

  “I’ve decided that a break is what I need, as well as some fun.” She gave him a stern look. “Don’t read into it.”

  “I happen to enjoy reading.” He offered her more nuts. “And I like that you’re taking some time for yourself.”

  He left it at that as they exited the pier, getting in line at the corn dog stand.

  “My treat.”

  “Fine.”

  “What I was thinking with the scooter painting—since I’m no good at it—was that you would be our Picasso and I would be your minion. I’d bring you coffee and rub the tension from your shoulders.”

  “You seem to think I’ve said yes.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  “No.”

  “But didn’t I just agree to move my flight for you, and you said you wanted to take some time for yourself?”

  Maria paused. “Yeah, but…”

  “I made a promise, Maria. I always keep them. Always.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn’t find a suitable retort.

  “Here’s a sample of what my hands can do.” Before she could utter a word, he had spun her around and was deftly kneading knots between her shoulder blades that she had long ago accepted as part of aging. But now, with Clint’s fingers coaxing them to give up their tension, she wondered why she’d never asked a man to give her a back rub before.

  When they reached the front of the line, the stand’s Christmas lights blinking merrily, he dropped his hands from her back. She wasn’t one to pout, but the absence of his touch nearly had her doing so.

  “Painting? Back rubs? How can you say no?” He opened his wallet while saying to the man at the stand, “Two, please.”

  “What’s in it for you?” she asked curiously.

  “I get to spend time with a woman I’ve been intrigued with for years.”

  “Years?”

  His dark brown eyes gazed straight into hers as he confirmed, “Years.”

  Years.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  In fact, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  The next day, while Kittim was at work, Maria finished dropping off last-minute Indigo Bay Animal Shelter adoption day flyers to the few stores in town that weren’t yet sporting one in their window. The shelter’s adoption drive would be held on the Tuesday following Saturday’s fundraiser gala.

  After delivering the final flyer, the last item on her to-do list, Maria propped her hands on her hips and studied the sky. A bit cloudy. Definitely a good day to be indoors, and the Indigo Bay retailers seemed to know it. Quite a few businesses were entertaining tourists with mini events such as cookie decorating at the bakery, chocolate making at the Indigo Bay Chocolate Emporium, and ornament painting at the jewelry store, Coastal Creations. Even Happy Paws, the pet store, was offering fifteen minutes of free pet-training tips. From a block away she could hear the dogs barking in joy at being all together under one roof.

  Maria’s ingrained habit of getting up at dawn to do chores on the ranch meant she’d already walked the beach.

  So now what?

  “I had a feeling if I wandered around town long enough I’d run into you,” said a deep voice.

  Maria turned to find Clint.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Free for lunch?” He checked the black watch on his wrist.

  “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  “Sweet Caroline’s?”

  “It was lined up out the door when I went by a few minutes ago. Caroline’s giving away Christmas cookies today. I got mine earlier, but it looked as though half the town had turned out by now.”

  “How hungry are you?” Clint asked.

  “Actually, not super hungry.” It was still early for lunch. “How about you?”

  “Let’s go find something to do until Caroline’s clears out.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As they strolled past the jewelry store, filled with locally made items, Clint stopped. They looked through the windows at the bustling front room. “What’s going on here?”

  A woman in a smock was about to close the door. “We’re painting ornaments.”

  “Painting?” Clint’s eyebrows rose, and he swiveled to look at Maria.

  “There’s another session following this one that’s a bit more family-oriented and crafty.”

  “She’s had enough of being crafty for one day, I think,” Clint said, referring to Maria. “Painting is more up her alley.”

  “Would you like to join us?” the woman asked. “We have two empty spots left.”

  “Perfect. There are exactly two of us.” He was already walking inside. Through the doorway Maria spied a throng of giggling women eyeing Clint as if he were candy.

  Maria hustled after him, catching Clint at the cash register, already paying for them.

  “Are you sure you want to paint?” she asked nervously.

  “Worried you’ll show me up and crush my delicate male ego?” He winked and picked up an ornament from the box on the counter, without considering the selection.

  The woman behind the counter instructed them to choose red or white wine from the staffer pouring glasses at a table nearby.

  “Wine, too? It’s almost like a date.” He nudged Maria, and she shook her head and smiled.

  The woman with the wine lifted a bottle of red and a bottle of white, giving each a waggle.

  “I like this town,” Clint said. “Red for me.” He turned to Maria, who held up two fingers to show she’d like the same.

  “I think we only get one glass each,” he said seriously.

  There was a sparkle in his eyes that caused Maria to roll her own. “You’re so silly.”

  “Come on, let’s pick a spot to sit,” he said, collecting their glasses after handing her his ornament to carry along with her own.

  They found seats at one of the folding tables near the front windows. Clint handed her a glass, and she took a large sip, feeling a sudden bout of nerves.

  What was she doing? Was Clint going to expect her to create something amazing? She’d never painted on glass before, and wasn’t sure how the curved surface would affect whatever she attempted.

  “Hello! Are you new to town?” an older woman with unnatural blond hair asked.
She seemed to be looking down her nose, even though technically she wasn’t. In her lap was a large purse with a small, fluffy white dog inside.

  “Hello, Miss Lucille,” Maria said.

  “We’ve met?”

  “At the Morrison Mansion Bed and Breakfast.”

  “Oh, yes. The two of you are working on the death trap. The gala and silent auction are only days away, you know.” She eyed the glass of wine in Maria’s hand, which was now half-empty. Then her gaze dropped to the ornaments on the table in front of Maria and Clint, as though she would be judging their painting ability.

  “What an adorable dog,” Clint said. “What’s his name?”

  “This is Princess,” she said, bristling. “Her collar matches my shoes. And she is obviously a female!”

  “My apologies,” Clint said mildly.

  “She’s adorable,” Maria stated politely.

  “We coordinate every day. Hardly anyone notices,” the woman sniffed.

  “I’m Maria Wylder and this is Clint Walker,” Maria said, feeling as though introductions should be made again.

  “Taking your husband’s last name is a sign of respect. It’s the proper thing to do, you know.”

  “We’re not married yet,” Clint said smoothly. He leaned across Maria to shake the woman’s hand, resting his left palm on Maria’s shoulder blade and sending warmth through her body. “But I’m working on it.” He gave the older woman a wink.

  Miss Lucille bristled. “Are you a late bloomer or did you already leave your first wife?”

  An involuntary gasp left Maria’s lips, but Clint just smiled. “I’ll have to tell you all about it later. But I’m here until Thursday night, then little elves are going to whisk me back to Texas.”

  The woman’s expression grew stern and she turned away as their instructor began introducing herself.

  “You moved your flight?” Maria felt a thrill zip through her.

  He nodded as a woman on the other side of him gave in to giggles she’d been trying to stifle. When she regained control she whispered, “Sorry, my aunt can be a bit much.” She gestured to Miss Lucille.

  “Oh, did you want to sit beside her?” Clint shifted instantly, ready to move, but the woman shook her head, eyes wide.