Teague’s hand hovered over the gearshift. “Why?”
“Because we’re supposed to be looking for that darned sculpture.” She studied him. Why was he asking why? “And after all that in the carriage, we can certainly vouch that we searched one another.”
His mouth tilted up on one side. Then a buzzing sound came from his shirt pocket. He pulled out his phone and frowned.
“Trouble with work?”
“Know what?” He thumbed at the screen almost as fast as Grayson could text. “It’s getting late. Why don’t I check out the art show on my way home after dropping you off at Summer Haven?”
Jenny checked her own phone for the time. “It’s barely nine. Besides, tomorrow is the last day of the art show. No sweet baby Jesus means Colton gets disqualified. And I have no doubt he’ll bring the whole competition down if that happens.” And after what she and Teague had done in that carriage, winning this competition sounded better than ever. She’d forgotten making love with a man could feel like that—fun, hot, emotional.
Because only Teague had ever made her feel that way.
“Aren’t you curious to see which artist is the frontrunner?” she asked.
“If the folks around Summer Shoals are half as smart as I think they are, I know who’s winning.” He pulled her in for a soft kiss.
Oh, this man was dangerous to her heart.
But maybe it was past time to let a little risk into her life again.
When he drew back, he checked his phone again and tilted his head as though he was mulling over a deep thought. Finally, he must’ve come to a conclusion, because he put the truck in gear and headed for the school.
When they arrived, only a few people were milling the hallways while a small group of carolers stood near the entryway singing “The First Noel.”
Jenny grabbed Teague’s hand and dragged him toward Colton’s booth. Standing in front was her mom, wearing a broad smile.
Oh, that was a good sign. The tightness in Jenny’s chest loosened. Everything would work out. Sweet baby Jesus. The art competition. Her and Teague.
Maybe her life was taking a turn for the better.
“You found him!” Jenny glanced at the number of ornaments in Colton’s vase. It still wasn’t as full as hers had been earlier, but he was gaining on her a little. Now they could have a fair fight.
Then she caught the look her mom shot at Teague, and the hair on her arms lifted.
She knew that look.
Her mom was plotting something or had recently pulled the wool over someone’s eyes. Surely she wouldn’t have cheated and snuck ornaments in to rig the votes in Jenny’s favor.
And if her mom was pulling the wool over someone’s eyes, Jenny would be damned if they’d be hers.
She stepped into the booth to get a closer look at the baby Jesus sculpture lying in the manger. Same pie-plate face. Thank goodness.
But as she turned to walk away, something—what was it?—caught her eye because it was slightly off. Uh-huh. Jesus’s right eye was still a red-striped bobber, but the left one was green and white. Now, Jesus not only looked hungover with bloodshot eyes, but nauseous as well.
She reached into the manger and plucked out the white cotton-towel-wrapped baby-burrito and whirled toward her mom. “What did you do?”
“Why is it when something goes wrong everyone always points the finger at me?” Her mom hitched a thumb at her chest.
“Because more often than not, you were the one to stir up trouble,” Jenny shot back. She plopped down in the booth’s folding chair and laid the swaddled sculpture on her thighs to unwrap it. If the mismatched googly eyes weren’t enough, Jesus’s arms were all wrong. Instead of a big fork and knife, each was now made of three maroon bags sewn together. “And because who the heck else would give Jesus appendages made from Texas A&M corn hole bags?”
With a muffled “Crap,” Teague turned away, rubbing his forehead.
Why wasn’t Teague as outraged with her mom as she was?
Oh. Oh, no. His shoulders were hunched, and he was pacing. That was Teague’s I’m-in-deep-shit-trouble posture. She’d seen it a dozen times. Every time he’d broken one of his mom’s valuables or his own bones.
That warm, I’m-still-in-love-with-Teague-Castro feeling in her chest went as cold as ice water. The kind of cold that burned. She spun on him. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
He slowly shook his head, then looked up. That bleak expression in his dark eyes told her everything she needed to know.
“You knew where Jesus—or at least parts of Jesus—was this whole time and you didn’t tell me. Just like you didn’t tell me the whole story all those years ago.” With every word, her voice ramped up. A little higher, a little louder.
“Jenny, I was just trying to—”
“I’m sick and tired of you thinking you should decide what I need to know and what to hide from me.”
“It’s a bunch of garbage,” he protested. “This is nothing like with Melin—”
“Don’t even say her name,” Jenny snarled, and held up a hand, palm out. “You knew what this meant to me. But maybe what you didn’t know is what my winning this contest might mean to you. I’ll give you this, Teague, you have a gift for lying by omission.” She laughed, but the joke was one hundred percent on her.
“Calm down, dammit.” Her mom stepped in front of her. “Keep your voice down, put Jesus back, and stop drawing attention to him.”
Jenny coughed, actually choking on the anger surging up her throat. “You two were trying to fix the contest, weren’t you? You didn’t have enough faith to believe I might actually win on my own merit. Well, isn’t that fabulous?”
Teague’s mouth opened, but she rolled right over him. “So you cheated. At Christmas, no less. By stealing and mutilating Jesus. I should step away from the lot of you because I have no doubt you’re about to be struck down by lightning.”
Teague grabbed the baby from Jenny’s hands and shoved it into the manger. He whirled around and glared at her mom. “This is the best you could do?”
“Hey. I tried.” She lifted her chin and joined the stare-down. “I didn’t have much to work with…or much time.”
“Wow,” Jenny said, “if this is an example of how local law enforcement behaves—lying, cheating and stealing—then no wonder you aren’t worried about crime in Summer Shoals. You are the crime.”
“I wasn’t cheating,” he said. “It wasn’t supposed to go down this way.”
Her mind clicked back to the tree lighting. Teague’s look of panic and worry after each text he received. His insistence they take a carriage ride. The way he’d kissed her. And done way more than kissed her.
Maybe her mom was in on that too.
And the last thing a grown woman needed was her mother mucking around in her love life.
Not that it had ever stopped Abby Ruth Cady before, though.
“You two are peas in a pod.” Jenny leaned back in the chair, bumping the frame and making the whole booth shake. “Tell me, did you somehow put this entire art-show scheme together? Maybe fund it out of your own pockets? Instead of trying to manipulate me, you could’ve simply invited Grayson and me to Georgia for the holidays.”
“We did,” they said at the same time.
Teague stared down at her, his expression pained. “Every time one of us mentioned you visiting, you shut us down. It took Sera sweet-talking you to get you to your own mom’s birthday party. And you stayed less than a day.”
Jenny circled her arms to encompass the entire show. “So you decided to take it up a notch.”
“Your mom and I would no more plan an art show than we’d…we’d…”
“Voluntarily drink castor oil and go to the opera,” her mom offered up.
Not a visual picture Jenny wanted in her head. “But you did lie to me about Jesus.”
“Look,” Teague said, “we were only trying to protect Grayson. He and Booger were playing catch here at the show and the ball
got away from them. He didn’t know what to do and didn’t want you mad at him. We thought we could help him and—”
“And I’d never be the wiser.” Jenny stomped over and snatched up the faux Jesus. Protectively hugging it to her chest like she’d done when Grayson was an infant, she turned to light into her mother and lover again only to find Colton standing in front of the booth staring at her.
And if looks could kill, this one was sending Jenny directly to an early grave.
“I knew it!” Colton’s face was as red as the gasoline can he’d used to craft the head of the sheep lying next to the manger.
“N-no,” Jenny stammered and shot you-got-me-into-this-now-get-me-out looks at her mom and Teague. Then again, she’d gotten herself out of lots of messes without those two. And she’d do it again. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said to Colton. “I’ve been looking all over town searching for your sweet baby Jesus.”
“And you’re going to try to tell me you found him?” He snatched the sculpture from her arms and glared down at it. “What have you done? This was a work of art. Now it’s a…a…I can’t even describe what kind of monstrosity this is.”
Teague rolled his eyes at Colton’s drama, but said, “It was an accident. Booger Broussard and Jenny’s son were throwing a baseball around and your display fell victim to their horseplay.”
“I don’t believe it. She’s trying to sabotage me.” Colton unwrapped the sculpture and held it up by each light-switch-wall-plate hand, touching it with only his fingertips. “Bean bag arms? Really?”
“So you suddenly have trash standards for your work?” Jenny asked him. “Don’t think I didn’t noticed those thin plastic bowls you used for the camel hooves. They aren’t even recyclable. Quality mixed media, my rear end. And I’ll have you know those are well-made corn hole bags.” Jenny poked Jesus in the arm, earning a smile and wink from her mom. “Besides, I would never cheat. I don’t need to cheat because I’m going to win this competition because I’m a talented photographer.”
Colton snorted and turned to Teague. “I want to file charges.”
“On what grounds?”
“Destruction of property.”
The air around Jenny seemed to disappear, making it hard for her to breathe. She glanced at Teague because Colton’s complaint sounded unusually reasonable.
But Teague was shaking his head. “Look, Ellerbee. Grayson admitted what happened. He took responsibility for his actions and tried to make it right. Accidents happen.”
“Not to my artwork, they don’t,” Colton said.
“Surely you’ve got some more jun…ah…materials to set Jesus to rights.”
“You don’t seem to understand. His arms were made of a vintage stag horn carving knife and fork. That’s what made him so special.”
“What if I can fix him?” Jenny cut in.
Colton scoffed. “You’re a photographer, not a sculptor. You’ll never find the right carving set for his arms before tomorrow morning. And don’t think I can’t spot plastic. I scoured thrift shops and dumpsters for months before picking out the perfect pieces. They had to be special. Worthy.”
Jenny wasn’t sure if he meant the materials had to be worthy to create a nativity scene or if he simply thought that much of his own talent. Regardless of how clever she or anyone else thought the art was, it was his. And she needed to make this situation right. “If I can find a carving set and have Jesus back to normal and in his manger before the show starts at nine in the morning, then we’ll call it square, okay? If I can’t, I’ll move half the ornaments in my vase to yours. Sound fair to you?”
“Colton?” Teague said. “Come on. It’s the holidays. We need to work together here.”
“Fine,” he finally grumbled. He tossed Jesus at Jenny and walked away without another word.
“We dodged that bullet,” her mom said.
“No, we didn’t.” Jenny glared at her mom. “Because it’s now ten at night and I have to get my hands on a jumbo knife and fork with deer antler handles. Think they sell those at the Piggly Wiggly?”
“eBay’s always open.” Her mom gave a one-shoulder shrug.
“We have less than twelve hours. Even rush shipping won’t help me.”
“We do have a couple of antique stores,” Teague said. “I could ask the owners to open up and let me have a look around.”
All the emotions—good and bad—this man had evoked in her tonight surged behind Jenny’s eyelids.
No crying in baseball or anything else, so buck up, girl.
She blinked and said, “I have my doubts, but if it’ll lessen your guilt about all this lying—”
“Abby Ruth,” he said, his voice low, flat, and deadly serious, “would you excuse us for a minute?”
Her mom’s eyebrows jumped and hid behind her choppy gray bangs. Yeah, with the tone of voice Teague had just used, Jenny felt a little like jumping and hiding too. Her mom simply nodded and strolled out of the booth.
Teague herded Jenny backward until her spine bumped the camel’s bullwhip tail. In a low voice, he said, “You don’t want this to work, do you?”
“Of course, I do. But that carving set—”
“I’m not talking about a carving set and you know it.” He leaned down, put his face close to hers so she couldn’t look away. “I’m talking about us. You and me. Because if you’ll use something this silly to push me away, then it means you’ll never be able to get past what I did to you. And Jenny, I love you more than I want my next breath, but I can’t be with a woman who’s always trying to run away.”
Chapter 12
It was three-thirty in the morning, and Jenny had scoured every eBay and Etsy listing within driving distance of Summer Shoals. Unfortunately, stag head carving sets didn’t seem to be all the rage in Georgia. Then again, maybe people were waiting until after the Christmas holiday to sell their family heirlooms.
In front of her, the sweet baby Jesus was in pieces on Summer Haven’s formal dining table. Since she’d taken photos of all the booths, she knew how the sculpture had looked before Grayson and Booger had grand-slammed it. Now, she began rebuilding it from the feet up. Thank goodness Colton had used wire for the ligaments. If he’d soldered the pieces together, Jenny would’ve been out of luck since she’d never trained as a welder.
In searching under Grayson’s bed in the Cherokee Rose Room, they’d discovered Jesus’s missing femur. Aka a gentleman’s smoking pipe. And Maggie had quickly tracked down a correctly colored bobber for Jesus’s left eye.
But his arms and a red flower-shaped Bakelite button for his mouth were still missing.
She was attaching his toaster oven broiler-pan torso to his legs when Maggie rushed into the kitchen with Sera and Abby Ruth on her heels. “I knew we could find one.” Maggie held up a small red button. It was more tulip-shaped than daisy, but it was so close that Colton surely couldn’t quibble about it.
“Where in the world did you get it?”
“I remembered an old suit of Lil’s momma’s that was stored in the attic. Sure enough, I was right.”
So close and yet so far. Jenny grabbed her phone and texted Teague again.
Any luck?
His answer came back.
We still have five hours.
Which meant no luck at all.
“Sugar,” her mom said, “you can’t do another thing until Teague gets you that carving set. You should go upstairs and sleep a while.”
“No, I need to check all the parts to make sure they’re all positioned correctly and securely fastened. I don’t want Colton to have a single excuse for rejecting Jesus.”
“Stubborn as the day is long,” her mom muttered.
“Can we help?” Sera asked.
“You were a huge help by finding that button,” Jenny told her. “Y’all head to bed, and I’ll stay in touch with Teague.”
One by one, they filed by Jenny’s chair and gave her a hug. Her mom hung on for longer than her normal squeeze-and-pat. �
�I’m proud of you.”
Jenny had held it together into these early morning hours, but now a sob backed up in her throat. Losing control would mean she’d also lose the competition. Then again, maybe losing was a sign that she and Teague didn’t belong together after all.
“Thanks, Mom.” Jenny clenched her eyes shut and held her mom a little tighter. “And thanks for caring about Grayson enough to cover for him.”
When her mom eased back, her eyes were suspiciously bright. Had to be the overhead light because Abby Ruth Cady did not cry. “I’d be willing to build, hide, or bury just about anything for the people I love.”
A touch on Jenny’s shoulder jerked her awake, and she lifted her face off the dining room table. “Wha…who…”
“You might want to get a shower and—” Sera made a circular gesture around her mouth, “—deal with the drool if you want to make it to the art show on time this morning.”
She swiped the back of her hand across her cheek. Yeah, she’d been drooling all right. “What time is it?”
“Eight.”
Panic raced through her. “I promised Grayson he could come with me.”
“Don’t worry,” Sera said. “Your mom’s got that all under control. Already hustled him in and out of the bath, and he’s eating breakfast in the kitchen now.”
“Frozen waffles?”
“No, she whipped up some pancakes and bacon.”
“My mom?”
“Well, she did use a pancake mix,” Sera said, “but it’s an organic sweet potato one, so I didn’t make a fuss.”
Jenny eyed the sculpture she’d shoved to the side at five-thirty when she still hadn’t received any good carving-set news from Teague. “I’m going to lose.”
Sera rubbed circles on Jenny’s back. “You don’t know that. The universe has a way of causing a ruckus and then dropping a solution into our laps.”
“Unless the universe has cutlery up its sleeve today, I don’t see that happening.”
Sera shooed her out of the room and up the stairs.
When Jenny made it to the kitchen twenty minutes later, the scent of fresh coffee and crispy bacon hit her like a long drink of water after a scorching day. Gimme, gimme, gimme.
Always On My Mind Page 10
