by Nancy Martin
Fondly, Rose patted Liza’s arm. “You’ll have a lot of help, my dear. Everyone in Tyler respects your grandfather.”
“Everyone respects him, but not everyone likes him,” Liza reminded her. “He’s made a lot of enemies over the years.”
“Please don’t worry,” Rose urged, handing her back the photos. “Everything will turn out all right.”
Liza sighed. “I wish I could be sure.”
She walked away, leaving Rose wondering for a moment if the answer to the mystery could lie in those photographs. She wished making the Ingalls family troubles go away could be as easy as looking at some old faces, but suspected many more months would pass before all the answers were unearthed.
Rose allowed the problems of the Ingalls family to slip from her mind as she entertained her guests for the rest of the evening. She enjoyed chatting with friends and neighbors, and she even met a few new people.
One new addition to Tyler was Nora Gates’s husband, the handsome Byron Forrester. The two had married after a whirlwind romance, and half the town expected the couple to split up once the first blush of romance wore off. But Nora and Byron appeared to be proving the gossips wrong. If anything, they looked more deeply in love than anyone Rose had ever known. Approvingly, she noticed that they laughed together a great deal. A marriage based on laughter was surely the best kind.
Rose surprised Nora and Byron when she slipped into the pantry for another bottle of wine and found them there. The newlyweds pretended to be admiring the collection of preserves Rose stored on the narrow shelves, but she knew at once that she had nearly caught them kissing. They joked their way out of that potentially embarrassing position.
Then Rose asked Nora, “Don’t you teach piano to Gina Santori?”
“Why, yes,” Nora replied. “I do. She’s very musical.”
“She comes from a musical family, I’m told.”
“And she’s quite an athlete, too. I’m very proud of her.” Nora smiled. “But I’m curious. Do you know if she ever got a date for the Tinsel Ball?”
With a laugh, Rose asked, “You knew about that, too?”
“Yes, but I didn’t dare give her any advice on the subject. She’s a stubborn kid.”
“Susannah played matchmaker, and Gina is going to the dance with Lars Travis, the paperboy.”
“Good choice!” Nora declared, applauding. “He and his brother Ricky take lessons from me, too. Let’s hope he and Gina have a wonderful time.”
At that moment, a chorus of voices called for Nora. The most accomplished musician in Tyler was summoned to the piano, and she graciously allowed herself to be dragged into the sitting room. Cracking a joke, she seated herself at the instrument and easily played a few bars of a popular Christmas carol. Voices soon joined in with the words, and the room swelled with the harmonizing of friends and neighbors.
As she sang along, Rose looked around the room at the faces of the people she knew and loved so well—Judson Ingalls, Susannah, the members of the Quilting Circle. Even Joe Santori and Liza Forrester—they were all men and women Rose had come to think of as family. They were part of Tyler, part of her. It was a joy to see them all gathered in her home and raising their voices in thanksgiving.
This is the most wonderful night of my life, Rose thought, standing back to study each face. Seeing Susannah’s expression as she met Joe’s gaze, noting the way Liza Forrester slid her arm around her grandfather—Rose felt a swell of happiness that life in Tyler was proceeding peacefully.
“Joe!” cried someone when the last strains of the carol died away. “Let’s hear Joe sing!”
At once, all the people in the room began to coax Joe to sing for them. He refused with a modest laugh at first, but eventually Susannah persuaded him to entertain everyone. After a short consultation with Nora at the piano, Joe good-naturedly sang a funny, upbeat version of “Jingle Bells” that caused everyone to laugh. But then Nora played the opening bars of “Ave Maria,” and Joe could hardly refuse to sing.
The song, always dramatic, began with soft and poignant phrases, which Joe carried off almost effortlessly in his beautiful baritone. But gradually, the tune’s power and reverential words called upon his upper range, and the room fell into a hushed silence as Joe closed his eyes and released the full power of his voice. The familiar tune rang out, filling the house to the rooftop and sending shivers through Rose as she listened. Gathered around the piano, the rest of the guests also listened in awe as Joe reached the climax of the song. The words hung in the air as if suspended, then Joe allowed his voice to die into a worshipful whisper. The final note quivered in the air, exquisitely emotional.
As if one person, the guests swallowed hard and burst into applause. Joe accepted their praise with an endearingly shy grin, and then he forced Nora to stand and take a bow. They gave each other a fond hug, then Nora sat down once again and really rattled the keyboard with a ragtime version of “Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer.” The crowd was soon rocking along with her, their faces suffused with the feeling of wellbeing.
Despite the noise, Rose managed to hear the doorbell ring. Surprised that a guest would be arriving so late, she worked her way through the crowd toward the door. In the entry hall, she bumped into Susannah and Joe, standing hand in hand.
“I heard the doorbell,” Susannah said to Rose. “Who could be coming at this hour?”
“We’ll find out in a minute,” Rose said. “First I must tell Joe how wonderful that was. Your voice is magnificent! I had no idea you were so accomplished.”
“Oh,” he said mildly, “I’m just an amateur.”
“He’s too modest,” Susannah protested, eyes shining. “Isn’t he, Granny Rose?”
“Modesty is just one of his many good qualities,” Rose countered, taking both their hands in hers so that they made a small family circle under the chandelier. “I think you ought to snap up this man, Suzie, dear. Before he gets away.”
Susannah blushed. “Granny Rose...”
“She’s lovely when she blushes, Joe, don’t you think?” Rose appealed to him laughingly. “Surely prettier than any other lady in your life.”
“Granny Rose!” Susannah cried, embarrassed at the merest reference to Joe’s girlfriend, Angelica.
“Susannah is the loveliest woman I’ve ever met,” Joe agreed without missing a beat.
“And isn’t it lucky that you’re standing under the mistletoe?” Rose inquired.
Joe laughed and said that it was, then swept Susannah into his arms. Without protest, Suzie slipped her hands up his chest, clinging to him as if she’d already had some practice at that, and in another moment they were kissing. They made such a charming picture, too—an attractive couple embracing beneath the mistletoe and surrounded by Christmas decorations. They were so perfectly matched that Rose found herself entranced by the sight of her granddaughter so lovingly gathered in a man’s arms—even when the doorbell sounded impatiently again.
With a chuckle, Rose turned away, saying, “I think I know what Santa’s going to bring you two.”
Joe and Susannah laughed softly, but didn’t break apart, and at that instant Rose opened the front door to the guest who had been standing irritably on the porch. For a split second, Rose didn’t recognize the man.
Then Susannah made a queer sound in the back of her throat and hastily stepped out of Joe’s arms.
“Roger!” she squeaked.
“Roger?” Joe repeated. “Who’s Roger?”
“Good heavens,” said Rose, clapping her hand to her mouth. “What terrible timing!”
Roger Selby, the manager of Susannah’s television station, stepped into the house amid a flurry of snowflakes. His brow looked thunderous, and he stomped the snow from his immaculately shined wingtip shoes with the air of a man finishing an arduous journey. With a resounding thunk he dropped a fine leather valise on the floor.
“Roger...” Susannah began, but couldn’t say more.
“Who the hell is Roger?” Joe demande
d.
“The man who won’t let you flush your career down the toilet, Susannah.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SUSANNAH WAS thunderstruck. “Who said anything about flushing my career?”
Roger was nearly as tall as Joe and even more imposing in his elegant clothes. He gave Susannah a lofty look and said, “I had my suspicions, Susannah, so I came to make sure you haven’t been brainwashed in this little town.”
“I have not been brainwashed!”
“No? Then what was all that nonsense on the phone the other day? You were rambling on about your life, Susannah. It worried me. And you didn’t return my call yesterday or this morning concerning the Easter-basket segment.”
“I’ve been busy!”
“Looking after your sick grandmother?” Roger asked archly. He glanced down at Rose, who looked like the picture of health. “That’s the most feeble excuse in the book, Susannah. I’ve never seen a fitter-looking woman than your grandmother. Hello, Mrs. Atkins.”
Rose, with a fierce look in her eye, managed to make a liar out of her granddaughter without saying a word.
Roger turned back to Susannah. “Our trip to the Caribbean was very important. The substance of the whole next season hangs in the balance. When you canceled, I began to worry about you. Now I’m even more dismayed.”
Susannah fought for composure. “Roger, you needn’t have made this trip. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Really?”
“The show’s very important to me. It’s been my whole life.” Conscious of Joe standing nearby and her grandmother’s narrow gaze, Susannah added, “It’s not the only thing in my life, of course.”
Roger’s frown grew more intense. “What do you mean by that? I don’t like to see your energy diluted.”
In a deep growl, Joe said, “She’s a woman, not a machine.”
“And who,” Roger asked, “are you?”
Hastily, Susannah said, “This is Joe Santori, Roger. He’s a—a friend.”
“A friend,” Joe added, “who recognizes the importance of family and a hell of a lot of other things. Susannah came to Tyler to see her grandmother again. I think that’s more important than getting sunburned while you talk about recipes and household hints!”
“Our show is not about recipes and household hints,” Roger began, flushing red at the implication that their program was lightweight. “It’s much more than that. Why, we—”
“Now’s not the time to discuss the merits of ‘Oh, Susannah!,”’ Rose intervened. “Roger, since you’re here, why don’t you join the party? My friends are all fans of your program. I’m sure they’d love to meet the producer.”
She took Roger’s arm and guided him forcefully into the parlor, where a few of the guests had already fallen silent when voices began to rise in the hallway. Susannah realized they had made a scene, and she was embarrassed on her grandmother’s behalf.
Joe caught Susannah’s arm before she could follow her grandmother and Roger back to the party. He spun her around to face him. “Did you mean what you just said?” he asked, voice low. “That your show’s the most important thing in your life?” His expression was tense.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you meant it,” he insisted, “didn’t you?”
“Look,” Susannah whispered, trying not to prolong her embarrassment, “I can’t escape the fact that I am Oh, Susannah, Joe. Of course the show’s important to me. A lot of people depend upon my doing a good job.”
He released her arm and took a step backward. “I thought you had changed this week. I must have been kidding myself.”
“I haven’t changed,” Susannah agreed. “Maybe I’ve recognized a few things, but I—I can’t give up being Oh, Susannah. Not for Granny Rose. Not,” she said meaningfully, “for anyone.”
“Why not? If it’s ruining your life, trapping you into a corner—”
“I can’t turn my back on success, Joe.”
He gave a snort. “Success! You’re being smothered, Susannah. This week, I’ve gotten to know the real you. And I think it’s a damned shame you’re going to let this guy walk in here and drag you back to—”
“He’s not dragging me anywhere.”
“Oh, no? Just why do you suppose he’s come?”
“To make sure I’m still part of the team, I suppose.”
“To make sure he hasn’t lost his star player,” Joe said bitterly. “He can’t get along without you, so he’s come to take you back before we poison your mind.”
“You make me sound weak,” Susannah snapped. “I’m not easily influenced by anyone—not you or Roger. I have to think about all the people involved with ‘Oh, Susannah!’ before I make any rash decisions, Joe. I can’t quit my job on a whim.”
“I thought,” he said, “that I was more than a whim.”
Susannah felt her face grow hot. “Let’s keep our perspective, shall we?” Her voice hardened. “You and I have never discussed a relationship of any kind, let alone one that required me to leave my job and—”
“We’ve reached a lot of conclusions this week, Susannah. Maybe we didn’t say the words, but don’t deny you haven’t thought about the possibilities.”
“The possibilities are rather limited, considering your circumstances, Joe.”
His frown deepened. “What circumstances?”
Before she could think straight, Susannah blundered ahead, saying angrily, “I had to hear about your friend Angelica from your daughter.”
Joe’s face went blank. “Angelica?”
“Yes, Gina told me all about her.”
“Gina told you?” Joe asked, his gaze narrowing.
At the mention of his daughter’s name, the pieces suddenly came together in Joe’s mind. Susannah’s reluctance to let their relationship grow. The sly remarks from Mrs. Atkins about “any other lady” in Joe’s life; he’d assumed she was referring to Gina herself.
“She does exist, doesn’t she?”
What’s that kid doing to me now? he asked himself. Heaven only knew what kind of lies might spring from Gina’s fertile imagination if the circumstances were right.
Seizing Susannah’s arm once more, Joe asked, “Just what exactly did Gina tell you?”
“Nothing that should have surprised me,” Susannah replied, endeavoring to look calm. “After all, you’re an attractive single man. I’d be a fool to assume you didn’t have a...a—”
“A lover?”
Susannah colored. “A friend, I was going to say. Is it true?”
Joe wanted to blow up then and there. But not in Rose Atkins’s house, and not before he confronted his daughter. He squelched his temper, suddenly aware that many of Rose’s guests were shamelessly eavesdropping from the parlor.
Joe lowered his voice. “We have a lot of things to set straight, Susannah.” With a supreme act of self-control, he said, “But not now. I don’t want to spoil the party. And I have something to take care of first.”
“People are starting to whisper,” she agreed, glancing toward the parlor. “We’ll discuss this another time.”
“But it can’t wait long, Miss Suzie.” Joe pulled her around again until he could look deeply into her eyes, and he didn’t give a damn who was watching from the other room. “I care about you, Susannah. Don’t pretend you don’t understand. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
She stared at Joe, her expression full of conflicting emotions. For an instant, she couldn’t speak.
So Joe decided to take full advantage of the moment. Let her be good and rattled, he thought. Swiftly, he pulled her close and kissed her fully on the mouth, even forcing her lips apart for a long, hot, penetrating kiss that should have sent her senses reeling. And judging by the dazed expression on her face when he set her back down on her feet again, the kiss had done exactly that. Susannah put a shaky hand on a chair to steady her balance.
“My goodness,” she whispered, blinking.
“Think about that,” Joe said darkl
y, “when you go to bed tonight.”
He left the house then, without bothering to say good-night to Mrs. Atkins or to retrieve his topcoat. After turning up the collar on his sport jacket, Joe walked home. Anger at Gina kept him plenty warm enough.
Once in the house, he marched up the stairs to confront his daughter. But Gina’s bedroom door was closed, and no light shone from beneath it. So Joe proceeded to his own room, stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed to seethe.
Women! They could drive a man crazy. Joe never pretended to understand the intricate moods of his daughter. He couldn’t guess what had prompted her to create the story of Angelica. Jealousy? Or had she taken an instant dislike to Susannah and decided to drive her away?
The telephone rang about an hour later. Joe was still wide awake and ruminating on the fairer sex. He picked up the receiver on the first ring.
“Joe?”
It was Susannah’s voice—a little breathless and hushed. “Did I wake you?”
“Who can sleep?” He relaxed into the pillow again, holding the receiver to his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
She hesitated for a moment, and Joe envisioned her face—probably troubled, but lovely just the same. She said, “I haven’t had a chance to do much thinking yet. But I can’t leave things hanging this way until tomorrow. I put my grandmother to bed—”
“How is she?”
“Tired,” Susannah admitted. “Granny Rose went straight to bed as soon as all the guests left.” Her voice changed. “I’m even more worried about her than ever, in fact. She forgot Inger Hansen’s name tonight, Joe.”
“Have you spoken with the doctor?”
“No. It’s not really my place, is it? She has promised to see him right after Christmas.”
“Is that soon enough?”
Susannah sighed. “I hope so. I can’t force her to do anything, Joe. She’s an adult with free will and...well, dammit, she’s so stubborn. I hate fighting with her.”
“I know,” he murmured.
A short silence ensued, then Susannah whispered, “You know a lot of things, don’t you?”
