A Bramble House Christmas (Carrigans of the Circle C Book 6)

by CJ Carmichael

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you. But right now I’m still processing the loss.”

  “Of course. I didn’t mean to pry...” She and Scout had both gone to support groups during his years of treatment and it had helped. “If you change your mind, I’m happy to listen.”

  “I’ll remember that.” He hesitated, then went on, “Feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but is Scout’s father in the picture?”

  “We’ve been apart for over two years, divorced for one. Jeff does a lot of...traveling. I’m afraid Scout doesn’t get to see much of his father anymore.” Now was her chance. Before she lost her nerve, she plunged onward, “What about you? Have you ever been married?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Oh.” He sounded so definite.

  “I’m afraid my personal observations of marriage have made me quite happy to be on my own.”

  “Since my own marriage ended in divorce, I guess I can’t make an argument against your position.”

  “Yet something tells me you’re not nearly as cynical about it as I am.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “That’s probably true.”

  He smiled back, and she felt that same spark between them, an odd reaction given the subject of their conversation. Perhaps he was liking her despite himself.

  But as she reached for her tea cup she noticed his eyes land on her ring, and, just like that, something shifted between them.

  Quickly she retracted her hand. As she did so, she noticed him glancing at the Christmas tree by the window and the photograph of Mable’s mother.

  “Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? That my ring looks so much like the one in that photograph?” Realizing she was playing with the band, she stopped and forced her hands flat on her thighs.

  “I wonder if it is a coincidence. Didn’t you say your client mentioned Marietta to you? Maybe he had a family connection here. Possibly with the Brambles?”

  Gone was Finn’s lighthearted tone, he sounded quite intense now.

  But why would he care about her ring, or if it was connected to the Brambles? “The ring and my patient’s desire to visit Marietta are two separate things. I never heard him talk about them as if they were connected.”

  “Can you think of another reason the rings would be virtually identical?” As he spoke, Finn leaned forward. She’d thought his eyes were gray, but the flickering light from the fire brought out flashes of silver and green. He seemed...on edge. But why?

  “Maybe this ring—” she touched the band on her finger—“and the one in that photograph were purchased from the same jeweler. That would explain why they’re so similar.”

  “Interesting idea.” Finn sat back as if contemplating the possibility.

  “I have to admit I don’t understand why you find all of this so fascinating.”

  “I’ve never been able to resist a good mystery. Given your choice of reading material,” he glanced at the book in her lap, “I figured you might feel the same.”

  Finn was so caught up in his conversation with Willa that she caught him by surprise when she suddenly made an excuse about checking on Scout and left.

  He must have pushed too hard on the ring.

  Maybe her conscience had started to wear on her.

  He had to admit she was a lot different than he’d expected. If he hadn’t known she’d taken advantage of his father, he might actually admit to liking her. A lot.

  Finn’s phone pinged with the unique tone that announced messages from his mother. He decided to bite the bullet and go up to his room to give her a call. He caught her in the middle of a TV show and she asked him to hold while she put the recording on pause.

  Once she was back on the line, he filled her in on the basics—no, he still didn’t know why his father had left his nurse so much money, and no, Willa Fairchild didn’t look like a gold digger. Then he had some questions of his own.

  “Mom, how much do you know about Dad’s family? Did Grandma Judith always live in Spokane?”

  “She moved to Washington shortly before your father was born.” His mother sounded out of breath as she spoke. Over the years her sedentary life style and penchant for chips and donuts had caught up to her. Finn wasn’t sure what would motivate her to get off the couch, improve her diet and start living again.

  But he knew lectures from him sure didn’t help.

  “What about my grandfather?”

  “Well. He was never in the picture.”

  “Because he died young, you mean?”

  “Because he and Grandma Judith never married. That gold band Grandma wore—that was just for show. Back then unmarried mothers were stigmatized. Judith let everyone assume your grandpa was dead but think about it. Did you ever see a photograph of him when we went to visit your grandmother?”

  “Well, no. I can’t remember any.”

  “So...”

  “Are you saying you don’t know anything about him?”

  “Your father never even met the man. And Judith certainly didn’t speak of him.”

  He heard a sound, a lot like a bag of potato chips being torn open. A moment later crunching sounded in his ear.

  Yup. Potato chips.

  “But I do recall your grandma refusing to come with us on our family trip to Glacier National Park. She said she’d never set foot in Montana. That the state might be the fourth largest in the country, but it wasn’t big enough for her. Made me wonder if the man who got her pregnant might have been from there.”

  Now this was progress. “Any idea what part of Montana, Mom?”

  “No clue.”

  Of course not. And it was too late for him to ask his father.

  Finn sank onto the bed, as a feeling of desolation washed over him. He’d never expected to lose his father at such a young age. If only he’d spent more time with him during the past two years.

  “What’s any of this got to do with that nurse who manipulated her way into your father’s will? The girls are still after you to send a picture.”

  “She’s not the way I imagined her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She has a son, for one thing. He’s around six.” Small for his age, yet wise beyond his years. Maybe his parents’ divorce, the loss of his father, had done that to him.

  “So she has a kid. What does that change? She still tricked your father into leaving her fifty thousand dollars. Money that should have been divided between the four of you.”

  Not to mention Grandmother Judith’s ring. But it would be wise to keep that fact from his mother for the time being.

  “While you’re at it you should find out what happened to that old sapphire ring of your grandma’s. Your father stole it right out of my jewelry box when he left.”

  “Did you ever wear it?”

  “It wasn’t to my taste, but he did give it to me as a wedding gift. Eventually I was going to give it to one of the girls.”

  But which one? Maybe that was why Finn’s father had gifted the ring to his nurse...because he hadn’t wanted to play favorites. And it wasn’t as if anyone in the family had ever expressed any interest or appreciation for the thing.

  By the end of the call, Finn was ready to tear his hair out and sorry he’d made it in the first place.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning Finn was out of the B&B early, walking the path along the Marietta River, and calling his sister Molly. Molly’s kids were early risers. He’d bet they were at the breakfast table by now.

  “Hey Finn. I’m surprised to hear from you so early.”

  Molly sounded down. Maybe he’d caught her before her first cup of coffee.

  “Not so sure I slept much, to be honest.”

  “Welcome to my life.”

  In the background he heard crying, then a little voice shouted in protest.

  “Hang on.” Molly was back a moment later. “They’re in front of the TV now, God forgive me. So what’s going on?”

  “What’s going on, is I’m tryi
ng not to feel like a jerk. Willa Fairchild is a single mom who nursed our father when he was ill and who is now trying to have a nice Christmas with her six-year-old son. That doesn’t entitle her to the fifty thousand dollars, by a long shot. But I still feel like a jerk. Because it was her who was with him in his final days, when it should have been—”

  Finn paused, blinking back tears. He’d been up most of the night, thinking of his father. Greg Conrad had been a quiet man. He’d always let his wife set the rules in the house and dominate most of the conversations. Finn wished he’d had a chance to get to know him better. Man-to-man. Now he never would.

  “I feel the same way, Finn. Only it’s worse for me. About a month before he died Dad called and offered to pay airfare for me to come for a visit. But the kids had colds and Charlie was really busy at work so I asked for a rain check.”

  Finn heard a quiet sob over the line.

  “Aw, Molly, don’t be too hard on yourself. If you’d known he was ill, you would have gone.”

  “That’s what I keep trying to tell myself. But just last night I brought the Christmas decorations up from the basement and I found the old carvings of Dad’s. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah.” Finn could hardly get the word out. Their father had been a talented woodsman and after dinner he’d often gone to his shop at the back of the garage and worked on his little creations. Every Christmas each kid would have one wooden carving in their stocking.

  They hadn’t made much of them back then. Finn could remember his mom talking disdainfully about “Greg and his silly little hobby,” bemoaning the fact that he didn’t help more around the house.

  “We were such idiots, Molly. Why didn’t we reach out to him more after the divorce? Who cares if it would have made Mom angry. I can’t really blame him for having an affair, anyway. Not when I remember the way she treated him.”

  “I’m not even sure there was an affair,” Molly said softly.

  “Really?” This was major news to him. “What makes you say that?

  “I talked to him two days before he died.”

  Something else Molly hadn’t told him before. “Seriously? How did he sound?”

  “His voice was weak. But he told me he had a cold and, at the time I believed him.”

  Finn fixed his gaze on a slab of ice on the river. It wasn’t moving anywhere. It would be jammed there until spring melt. “What did he say?”

  “A few things. First, that he was glad us kids were there for our mother. He said he knew she was taking the divorce hard.”

  “That was—generous.”

  “I asked him if he was...in a relationship. He sort of laughed and said, is that what your mother told you? Then he said, no, he was on his own, and it was fine. He saw his golfing buddies three times a week and was enjoying a little quiet the rest of the time.”

  “Somehow I’m not surprised to hear that,” Finn said.

  “God only knows why Mom lied to us.”

  “She wanted to be the good guy.” Finn hated to say it about his own mother, but it was true. “She wanted our undivided loyalty.”

  “You’re right, of course.”

  “All his life, Dad never put himself first, did he?”

  “No. Except for the divorce. I’d like to think he had a little happiness there at the end.”

  “Me too.”

  For a long time neither of them spoke. Tears froze on Finn’s eyelashes. He trained his gaze on the ice block again. Took a deep breath.

  “Molly how much does Dad’s family ring mean to you?”

  “The sapphire? Now? Not much. Why?”

  “It seems he gave it to his nurse.”

  “Really? It wasn’t mentioned in the will.”

  “He gave it to her before he died. Mom doesn’t know. If she did, she’d be furious. She thinks it should stay in our family.”

  “Of course she does. But when it was in the family, none of us ever wore it.”

  “That won’t change the way she feels.” Finn sank his head back, feeling overwhelmed by his task. He wasn’t sure how he could help his family at this point. What could he tell them that would bring a sense of resolution?

  “Finn, you sound awfully sad. Why don’t you change your plans and come to Seattle for Christmas after all. You’ve met the woman, at least. It sounds like she’s a nice person, who helped our dad in his last days. Maybe it doesn’t matter why Dad chose to leave her all that money.”

  “It was never just about the money for me, Molly. And I still have questions that only this woman can answer.”

  Scout woke up early, around six a.m. “Mom are you awake?”

  She was now. “Mm hm. How did you sleep?”

  “Okay. I like this bed.”

  “I like mine too. Want to come snuggle with me?”

  “Can I bring a book?”

  “Sure.” Willa sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The room was still dark, the sun wouldn’t be up for a while.

  She was glad she’d gone to bed early, even if the reason wasn’t the best. She could understand why Mable Bramble was interested in a ring that looked so much like her mother’s. But why did Finn seem so fascinated by it?

  She was almost tempted to take it off and hide it away. But she’d promised Greg Conrad she would wear it, and think of him, and that was what she was going to do.

  “Will you read this for me, Mom? My eyes are still sleepy.” Scout handed her his newest Everyday Sam. There were twelve books in the series, and he owned all but the last one. After Christmas, however, he would have the entire set.

  “Sure.” Willa cleared her throat, made room for Scout to sit next to her, and then turned to the first page.

  “Sam!” His mother called. “It’s time to go to bed.”

  Every book in the series started the same way, with Sam’s parents making him brush his teeth, wash his face and hands and put his clothes in the laundry before they tucked him into bed. They treated him like he was a little boy who needed lots of help.

  Then Sam would fall asleep and in his dreams, he would turn into a superhero and solve a very big problem. In this volume, Sam figured out who had been kidnapping dogs from the various families in his neighborhood. By midnight he had turned the guilty man over to the police and helped them return all the dogs to their proper owners.

  The books always ended the same way, too. Sam woke in the morning and tried to tell his parents about his amazing adventure, but they would insist it had all been a dream. After all, he was just Everyday Sam.

  Scout seemed to enjoy each story just as much, no matter how often she read it to him.

  Only this time, when he closed the cover with satisfaction, he frowned. Then he pointed to the small print on the bottom of the cover. “Isn’t this the guy who’s staying at the B&B with us?”

  Willa did a double take. “Illustrated by Finn Knightly.” The name was in much smaller print than the author’s. She couldn’t help feeling impressed...and intrigued.

  “I guess it is.”

  “Wow! I didn’t know he drew the pictures for Everyday Sam! Do you think he drewed the pictures for the whole series?”

  “You can ask him yourself at breakfast.”

  “Let’s go now!”

  “Maybe we should change out of our pajamas first?”

  Scout looked down at his Spiderman top, then laughed. “Oh, I forgot.”

  It was nice to see her son happy, but this new development had Willa thinking. Maybe the reason Finn had been so nice to her and Scout wasn’t because he was attracted to her—but because he needed photos of a little boy, like Scout, for his illustrations.

  “Yay! I smell bacon!”

  Scout raced for the breakfast table ahead of Willa, then careened to a stop when he spotted Finn standing by the window with a cup in his hands. Suddenly shy, he stared at the man with hero worship in his eyes.

  They were the only three in the room so far, though fresh muffins and fruit had been placed on the table.

  �
��Good morning.” Finn finally broke the silence, looking perplexed. He patted his head. “Did I just grow horns or something?”

  Slowly a smile broke out on Scout’s face. “You drew the pictures for Everyday Sam and The Dog Kidnapper!”

  Understanding illuminated Finn’s features. “Yes. I did. Do you like that book, Scout?”

  “Everyday Sam is my favorite. I have all the books except the last one.” He glanced back at his mom who gave him a reassuring smile.

  She knew he was checking to make sure she hadn’t forgotten to buy it for him.

  As if. Scout asked for so little, she wouldn’t dream of disappointing him. She only wished she knew exactly what she could do to make that promise of Santa’s come true. If she could do that, then maybe she could help her son believe in Santa again, if only for a little while.

  “The pictures you were taking yesterday,” Scout asked. “Are they for an Everyday Sam book, too?”

  “They are. But that book won’t be available for almost a year.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t say. But it does involve snow. And a small town at Christmas.”

  There was certainly lots of snow in Colorado. Willa wondered why Finn hadn’t gone to a closer small town than Marietta for his pictures.

  “I can also tell you there’s a scene where Sam goes sledding,” Finn continued. “I hear there’s a good toboggan hill behind the rodeo grounds. I’m going there later this morning to try and get some pictures. Maybe you and your mom want to come with me?”

  Finn glanced uncertainly at Willa. “Unless you have other plans?”

  “Please, Mom! Let’s go sledding!” Scout said, just as Marshall emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray.

  Tobogganing had been on the list of activities Willa had hoped to do with her son. But now, suddenly, she was nervous. “How big is the hill?”

  “Super-sized,” Marshall said. “I guarantee you’ll have a blast.”

  Scout’s enthusiasm dimmed and he cast Willa a nervous glance.

  Finn was quick to offer reassurance. “There must be some shorter runs for the younger kids?”