A Family for Christmas

by Winnie Griggs

  Daisy pushed back from the table. “Well, it looks like you ladies have some planning to do. You can count on me to help spread the word. Maybe I can even get Everett to slip a little notice in Friday’s newspaper.” She stood. “Thanks for the tea and the candy, but I need to do my shopping and get back to the restaurant.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?” Eve asked.

  “Yep. As long as I don’t have to run any races I’ll be fine.” The she snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot the other reason I stopped by today. If you’d like to set a tray of your candies out on the counter at my restaurant I’ll be glad to sell them for you.”

  “Only if you promise to take a portion of the profits.”

  Once she and Daisy has worked out their arrangements and Daisy left, Eve broached the subject of the tea shop with Chance, who gave her his blessing.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked.

  “As long as you and your customers don’t mind my messy workshop over on the other end of the room.”

  “I haven’t heard any of my customers complain so far.”

  Still, as Chance stared at the half of the room dedicated to his workshop he felt a stirring of dissatisfaction. And slowly an idea began to take shape. Perhaps a trip to the lumber mill was in order.

  * * *

  “If this goes well, I could even bake some shortbread or cookies to go with the tea.”

  Eve smiled as she passed the bowl of greens to Chance at the lunch table. Dotty hadn’t stopped talking about the tea shop since Daisy left earlier that morning. The woman seemed as excited by the tea shop as she herself had been about the candy store.

  “Since you are obviously very enthused about the idea, I’ll be happy to let you run the tea shop and of course collect the profits. I seem to have my hands full with the candy store.”

  Dotty smiled but shook her head. “That’s very generous of you, but this will be a shared enterprise. The recipes are yours, as are the blending skills. But I will have fun being involved.”

  Just as they were finishing up with lunch, Chance received a delivery from the lumber mill. He introduced Eve to Hank Chandler, the owner of the mill, and the two men unloaded the boards in the back of the workshop.

  Eve watched them stack the lumber. She counted a dozen evenly sized planks about four feet tall and two feet wide. The warm-hued wood was ready for whatever project he had in mind. Another carving project perhaps?

  But when she asked him outright, he refused to enlighten her, telling her instead that she’d have to wait and see.

  When Leo came in from school, the boy wandered over to see what Chance was busy with and to Eve’s surprise, Chance put him to work.

  When Eve stepped out of the kitchen to call them in to supper, she got her first look at his project. Across the room, in front of the area that contained his workbenches, Chance had erected four accordion screens of three panels each. She liked that it was only chest high, and that there were gaps between the screens. It managed to mask his work area without completely hiding it. If she looked across the room from her counter, for example, she could still see him sitting at his workbench.

  “Do you like it?” Leo asked. “I helped. And Mr. Dawson says it’ll make your shop more professional-looking.”

  He’d done this for her? Eve approached the dividers, admiring the simple flower engraving he’d carved on the top of the center panel of each screen. He really was quite talented. “Chance, this is beautiful.”

  He shrugged off her compliment and for a heartbeat actually looked uncomfortable with her praise. “I figured since you were going to hang around here for now that we ought to do what we could to make this look like a real shop.”

  “Thank you so much. I think it’s wonderful.”

  He began putting his tools away. “You’re welcome. Leo and I can paint them if you like. Just let me know what color.”

  “I rather like it unpainted with the wood grain showing.”

  Chance nodded as if he approved her choice. “I’ll apply a stain to them then. I already have a can of some that ought to work.” Then he straightened. “But that can wait until later. I think you were calling us in to supper.”

  “Of course. If you menfolk will get cleaned up, Dotty and I will get the table set.”

  Eve was so touched by his gesture that for a moment it was all she could do not to cry. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. And the fact that the screens were something she’d never have thought to ask for, yet were so perfectly right, made them all the more special.

  No matter what happed after Christmas, no one could ever take away what she felt right now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Eve hurried into The Blue Bottle the next morning. “Mr. Blakely had some Christmas decorations for sale at the mercantile today.”

  Chance looked up, surprised by how flushed and excited she looked. “Oh. Did you want to purchase any?” If that’s what had set her eyes aglow he’d definitely see that she had some.

  But she shook her head. “No, but I was thinking, the main reason I stayed was to make certain Leo had the family Christmas he wanted so much.”

  Chance nodded, wishing she’d list her other reasons. Did he figure anywhere in there?

  “It got me thinking that maybe we should start decorating around here. Not with store-bought things, but with things we can make ourselves. That’s what his memories were all about—crafting ornaments with his mother, selecting a tree with his father.”

  “What a lovely idea.” Dotty folded up the paper she’d been reading. “And since tomorrow is Saturday, it’ll be the perfect time.”

  Chance’s mind started playing with possibilities. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I think the main thing will be to have lots of greenery to hang. I splurged and purchased some red ribbon that we can add to it. Then we can craft decorations with whatever scraps of fabric and paper we can find. Oh, and when I was a child, my Sunday school teacher taught the class how to make angels from corn husks. I think I still remember.”

  “Something I did with my own daughter,” Dotty said, “was to fashion stars, wreaths and animals from straw. And you can even add a little touch of paint to them if you like.”

  Chance was thinking along the lines of toy soldiers he could carve as a gift for Leo and what bits of metal and tin he had lying around that might be useful for decorating. But the decorating items they were describing would need components he didn’t have on hand. “Sounds like we need to head outdoors and collect some raw materials.”

  “Excellent idea,” Dotty said with a nod. “There are some holly bushes on my property and some evergreens out behind the place. You two ought to go ahead and collect what you can today, and then we can spend tomorrow on the fun stuff.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the candy store and tea shop.”

  Chance turned to Eve with a raised brow. “You heard the lady. What do you say?”

  She stood. “I say I’m ready to go. Lead the way.”

  * * *

  A couple of hours later and she and Chance had amassed quite a collection. Tizzie’s backseat was overflowing with greenery and lots of other little treasures they’d collected for possible use in tomorrow’s decorating activities.

  Right now they were headed back to the vehicle from one last trip along the wooded trails behind the burned remains of Dotty’s home.

  “Slow down,” Chance grumbled good-naturedly. “My arms are full and these branches are heavy.”

  Eve laughed over her shoulder at him. “You just want to make certain I don’t get to the picnic lunch Dotty packed for us before you do.”

  “Can you blame me?” he said. “Dotty included a slab of her buttermilk pie.”

  Eve start
ed to respond when she suddenly stumbled on the uneven ground and landed on her knees and hands in a most undignified manner. Before she could so much as gather her wits, Chance had dropped his armload of greenery and was kneeling beside her, a hand on her shoulder and a worried frown on his face.

  “Are you okay?” He helped her up to a squatting-on-her-heels position. “No, don’t try to get all the way up just yet. Take a minute to catch your breath.”

  “I need to get off this knee,” she said.

  “Of course.” In a moment he somehow had her sitting flat on the ground. “How’s that?”

  “Better.” He still had an arm around her shoulder and it was difficult to concentrate on anything but the warmth of his touch and the beating of his heart at her back. Trying to focus her thoughts elsewhere she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to be so clumsy.”

  “Don’t apologize. I should have had hold of your arm.”

  She could tell by his tone he was berating himself. “I’m a big girl. I should have been watching where I was going.” She stared at her skirt. “Oh, no.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve got a tear in my dress.”

  “That can be mended. How bad is your knee?”

  She felt her leg right above the left knee. “I don’t think it’s anything worse than a bad scrape. It’ll probably be sore for a few days but, like the dress, it’ll mend.”

  “Still, we should have Dr. Pratt have a look at it just to be sure it’s nothing worse.” His eyes searched her face. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  Eve ignored the throbbing of her right palm and shook her head. No point in his worrying over another minor hurt.

  “Can you stand if I help you up?”

  “Of course.”

  Once she was on her feet, he didn’t release her immediately. “Steady now. Don’t put too much weight on that left leg.”

  She nodded, knowing she was going to have to hobble back to the car. Which, her treacherous mind whispered, was a good excuse to lean on him. Despite his caution not to, she tested her weight on her left leg and grimaced involuntarily.

  “That does it.” In one quick, fluid motion he had swept her up in his arms.

  Startled, she wrapped an arm around his neck to steady herself. “What are you doing?” If her voice was a bit breathless, he could put it down to her pain.

  He raised a brow, a purposeful set to his jaw. “Can’t you tell? I’m going to carry you back to Tizzie.”

  “But this is silly. Put me down at once. I’m perfectly capable of walk—”

  Before she could finish her protest, he hefted her to settle her more securely in his arms and headed in the direction of the vehicle. Realizing it would be useless to argue further, she settled back against his chest. She was amazed at how effortlessly he held her, as if her weight was nothing more than the armload of small branches he’d carried earlier.

  The rhythm of his heartbeat played in her ear, echoing the beat of her own betraying pulse.

  When they arrived at the motor carriage, rather than setting her on the ground to let her climb in as she’d expected, he leaned forward to set her directly inside. When he did, it brought his face within inches of her own. Her gaze flew to his and what she saw there left her unable to move, almost unable to breathe. There was an intensity there, a depth of emotion that touched off something deep inside her—something warm and tingling and altogether unfamiliar. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face, could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes, could smell the scent of wood and soap and something faintly metallic that was uniquely him. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, and suddenly she knew he felt it, too. And that he was going to kiss her.

  Or was that just wishful thinking?

  Not letting herself second-guess the moment, she closed her eyes and lifted her face, giving him the permission she hoped he was seeking.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath just a heartbeat before his lips pressed against hers. And then his hand, the one that was still around her shoulder, tightened and drew her closer.

  Everything else receded. There were no other sounds, no other scents, no other sensations but those in the circle of his arms. The gentle warmth of his lips was so sweet, so dizzying, she hoped it would never end.

  But abruptly it did. He suddenly released her and stepped back, his breathing labored and a small pulse point fluttering near the corner of his mouth.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said in a tight voice. “Don’t move from that seat.” And with that, he spun on his heel and headed back down the trail.

  What was wrong? Had she been too forward? Or perhaps too inexperienced? Whatever had happened, the joy she’d felt just seconds ago suddenly disappeared, replaced by insecurity and confusion.

  * * *

  Chance marched down the trail, mentally calling himself all sorts of despicable names. He needed to put some space between himself and Eve to clear his head. He shouldn’t have let himself take advantage of her vulnerable state to steal that kiss. He certainly hadn’t planned it. But carrying her as he had, holding her close against his chest, feeling how fragile and vulnerable she was, had stirred up all his protective and possessive urges.

  Then, when she’d locked her gaze with his, had looked at him with such awakening warmth, it had stirred something more. Still, he’d used his tenuous control to hold himself back. But when she’d so innocently and sweetly offered her lips to him, it had been his undoing.

  No, he shouldn’t have let himself kiss her, but God help him, he couldn’t find it in his heart to regret it. He’d finally found the real Eve beneath that prim, no-time-for-frivolous-fun exterior. And she’d been worth waiting for.

  But as long as he kept his secret from her, he couldn’t pursue her. It wasn’t fair to her. Or to him.

  But knowing all that he had to lose, could he risk letting her learn of his problem?

  Chance returned with the branches that had been his excuse for leaving her with no more idea of what he should do than when he’d left.

  As they drove back through town, Chance noticed Eve had withdrawn into herself. Was she regretting that kiss already?

  Unable to stand the silence, he tried for a neutral topic. “How is your knee feeling?”

  She gave him a polite smile. “Better. In fact, I don’t think it’s anything we need to bother Dr. Pratt.”

  “Better to be safe than sorry.” Was he reduced to reciting platitudes now?

  Chance stopped the car in front of the doctor’s house, where he also had his clinic, a few minutes later. He quickly jumped out and went around to help her from the vehicle.

  Eve held a hand up as he approached. “I can walk if you’ll just lend me your arm.”

  Figuring that was the safest option—for both of them—he nodded and took her elbow as she climbed out. Then he instructed her to put her hand on his shoulder while he put his arm around her waist. Slowly she hobbled alongside him up the walk. When they reached the front steps, however, he ignored her sensibilities and swept her up, then set her down on the porch.

  Dr. Pratt’s examination didn’t take long. “Her knee is banged up a bit. It appears she landed on something hard like a rock or branch. And she has a few other cuts and scrapes. She can expect to be plenty sore for the next couple of days but it’s nothing serious. It’ll heal faster if she stays off of her feet as much as possible.”

  Eve entered the room just then and the doctor handed her a piece of paper. “Give this to Obed Flaherty down at the apothecary shop and he’ll fix you up an ointment to put on that scrape.”

  “Thank you.” She turned to Chance. “See, it was nothing.”

  Before Chance could say anything, Dr. Pratt spoke up. “It’s always best in these situations to get an injury looked at. Better to be safe than s
orry.”

  Chance caught the quick glance she shot his way, her expression reflecting that she remembered his saying almost the exact same thing.

  They shared a quick smile over it, but her expression quickly shadowed over and she dropped her gaze again.

  Was this the way it would be from now on? Had he destroyed the warm friendship they shared by his impulsive act?

  Dear Lord, let that not be true.

  * * *

  Eve did her best not to wince as they slowly walked from the motor carriage to the back door of The Blue Bottle. At least there were no steps as there’d been at the doctor’s house—that had been torture.

  She’d insisted they not use the front door—she didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself with her undignified hobble, disheveled appearance and unladylike clutching at Chance’s arm for support.

  It was bad enough that she couldn’t get the thought of that kiss out of her mind, she didn’t need an audience to see her discomfiture.

  They entered to find the candy shop empty. Good, no customers to explain her condition to. They’d barely entered the workroom, though, when Dotty stepped out of the kitchen, a welcoming smile on her face. “Good, you’re back—” Her smile abruptly changed into an expression of concern as she hurried forward. “Gracious me! What happened? Are you all right?”

  “Just a bit of injured dignity is all,” Eve said reassuringly. “Like a goose, I tripped over a bit of uneven ground.”

  “She banged up her knee,” Chance said firmly. “Dr. Pratt wants her to stay off of that leg as much as possible.”

  “Oh, you poor dear. Come over here and have a seat.”

  As Chance helped her cross the room, Eve halted at the foot of the stairs. “I think I’ll go up to my room for a bit instead.” She wanted to be alone, to wallow in her misery for a bit with no one to watch.

  But Chance’s jaw set in a stubborn line. “You’re not going up there unless you let me carry you.”

  “Don’t be silly. You are not going to carry me up those stairs.” Just the thought of how she might betray herself again if he held her close was too mortifying to bear.