The Brands Who Came For Christmas

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The Brands Who Came For Christmas Page 14

by Maggie Shayne


  Chapter 13

  Maya sat beside Caleb in the dining room, which looked as if it had been polished up for a royal visit. A photographer toyed with his camera at the far end of the table. Bobby sat in a chair, tucked away in the corner, lurking in the shadows like a happy frog who would snap into action if a fly happened by. And he didn’t seem the least bit concerned. He seemed as if he knew that everyone would fall easily into line with his plan and be better off for it in the long run. The guy had spunk.

  She didn’t particularly like spunk today, feeling almost completely devoid of the stuff herself. Although the time she’d spent with Caleb at Nancy’s house had been…it had been bliss. That was not a good thing, she reminded herself. She couldn’t forget that this was a game. A political game. She would be Caleb Montgomery’s wife because that was the role she needed to play for the good of all concerned. It didn’t mean anything, and she couldn’t let herself slip into believing that it did.

  Everyone else seemed to be lying low somewhere. Caleb’s lawyers, the Levitz brothers, were apparently still out at the boarding house. Vidalia and the others had gone out to order a wedding cake. The house was empty, except for the five of them. Dirk Atwater, the well-known reporter, was adding cream to his coffee in the kitchen, while his photographer frowned at the overhead light, and changed his camera lens.

  “If you get confused, just follow my lead, okay?” Caleb said in a low voice, leaning close, squeezing her hand.

  She nodded. But she felt sick with nerves.

  “And remember, the closer we stick to the truth, the better.”

  “Right.”

  “If you get confused about any details involving the wedding or arrangements, just make them up.”

  “I’m no good at making things up on short notice, Caleb,” she said quickly.

  “Well…then don’t make it up. Fall back on what you dreamed about as a girl. Okay? Every young girl dreams about her wedding day and what her married life will be like, doesn’t she?”

  “Well…yes, sure, but—”

  “Then use that. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

  She nodded again. The reporter came in from the kitchen with his coffee, sandy blond hair styled with some kind of miracle mousse that made it look silky soft but prevented it from moving even a fraction of an inch out of place. His eyes were too blue to be real. Colored contacts, she thought. He was fairly well known in Oklahoma, did TV spots all the time in addition to his print columns. He looked like he should be an actor or a model.

  He sat down with his coffee, looked from one of them to the other. “Are we ready?”

  Caleb glanced at her, brows raised. She smiled and gave him a nod. “As ready as we’ll ever be, Dirk. But before we begin, I do want to make one thing clear. Maya is very close to her due date. If anything said here seems to me to be upsetting her in any way, the interview is over.”

  The reporter’s brow quirked just a bit, but he nodded. “Fair enough.” He took a small tape recorder from his jacket pocket, set it on the table, clicked it on. “But, uh…I understood the baby wasn’t due for a couple of weeks yet.”

  “Well, here’s where you get the first of several scoops on your competitors,” Caleb said, his gaze brushing over Maya before returning to the reporter. “We’re having twins.”

  Dirk Atwater’s eyes widened, then he grinned. “Twins!”

  “Yeah. They run in my family.”

  “You never told me that,” Maya said, sending Caleb a frown.

  His smile faded, and he licked his lips. The reporter’s eyes sharpened, and he watched every move they made so closely that Maya felt as if she was under a microscope. “I’ve been meaning to,” Caleb said softly. “We’ve been so busy, with so much going on, there’s barely been any time.”

  She nodded in agreement with that.

  “At any rate,” Caleb went on, “twins normally come early, and Maya’s doctor expects them to make their entrance into the world any day now.”

  “Holiday babies,” Dirk Atwater said, scribbling a note. Then he sat back in his seat. “You won’t mind my making the observation that you two seem…close. Far from the relationship that’s been depicted between you by some of the tabloids.”

  Maya frowned. “I don’t know how those people could even pretend to know anything about Caleb and me. They’ve never even spoken to us.”

  “That’s why we invited you here today, Dirk. We want to set the record straight,” Caleb put in.

  “For the sake of your senate campaign?” Dirk asked.

  Caleb frowned. “At this point, I don’t even know whether there will be a campaign.” The reporter looked skeptical. Caleb sighed. “Right I don’t expect you to believe that. But for now, let’s keep this on the subject all right?”

  “All right. Fine. This young woman is carrying your children, Mr. Montgomery. What do you intend to do about that?”

  Caleb smiled then, not at the reporter, but at her. “I intend to marry her, just as soon as we can make arrangements.”

  The reporter blinked in surprise, looking from one of them to the other. “You’re…getting married?”

  Maya nodded at him. “On Christmas Eve, as a matter of fact.”

  Dirk Atwater glanced at his photographer, who shrugged at him. Then he looked back at Maya and Caleb again. “That’s…tomorrow.” And Maya nodded. “So… let me get clear on this,” Atwater said. “You’re getting married just to make things legal…to, uh, legitimize the babies, correct? Then, Caleb, you’ll head back to the mansion in Tulsa, while you, Ms. Brand, will continue on just as before.”

  Caleb started to speak, but Dirk held up a hand. “If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to hear Ms. Brand answer this one.” Caleb nodded, and Dirk focused on Maya. “So tell me, Ms. Brand. What happens after the wedding?”

  Every eye turned on her. She fumbled, searched her mind, but damned if she knew what to say. She and Caleb hadn’t talked about what would happen after the wedding. Not in any detail. But then she recalled what Caleb had told her—fall back on her dreams if she got confused. And that should be easy enough. Lord knew she’d nurtured those dreams for long enough that she knew them by heart.

  She smiled at Dirk, got to her feet, belly first, and managed to accomplish the task even before Caleb leapt to his feet to help her. She walked to the window in the rear of the room, parted the curtain. “Come here, Mr. Atwater.” He did. And she pointed. “See that level spot, at the top of the hill, right back there?”

  Dirk nodded.

  “That’s the piece of this property that belongs to me. It’s where we’ll build our home. A big cabin, made of pine logs, with a huge cobblestone fireplace, and knotty pine window boxes, where I’ll grow pansies and geraniums. There will be a big room in the back for all my crafts and sewing. I’ll give lessons in my spare time. No one in this town is as good at crafting as I am.” She smiled, felt her cheeks heat just a little, but it was the truth.

  “I didn’t know that,” Atwater said. And he looked around the room, taking in the decor—the wilderness scene handpainted on the blade of an old crosscut saw, hanging over the picture window. The embroidered samplers, the needlepoint table scarves. He glanced at her again, brows raised. “These are all yours?”

  She nodded.

  “You ought to see the baby quilts,” Caleb put in, and she thought she heard pride in his voice but reminded herself he was playing a part. For the reporter.

  “There’s going to be a huge front porch on the cabin,” she told Atwater. “And a fenced yard in back, so the kids can’t wander too close to the woods. In the summertime, that hillside is just alive with wildflowers and song-birds…and the deer come out at twilight to nibble the tender grasses.” She sighed wistfully, visualizing it all just the way she’d always done. “And we’ll have a dog. A big, oversized, long-eared, shaggy mutt of a dog.”

  She was smiling broadly as she let the curtain fall and turned to glance back at the table, at Caleb. He was sitting there very
still and very quiet, his face expressionless, and she felt her smile slowly die. Maybe she’d shocked him. Maybe her dreams didn’t fit in with his plans at all.

  “So this is for real, this marriage of yours? It’s not just for appearance’s sake?” Dirk Atwater turned away from the window to address Caleb.

  Caleb stared at Maya, and she stared back.

  Bobby got up and came over to the table. “Look at the two of them,” he said to Atwater. “Does that look to you like it’s for real?” The cameraman fired off a series of shots.

  Maya felt her stomach clench and quickly averted her eyes.

  But there was no stopping Bobby once he got started. “Over eight months ago, these two met by chance. Or maybe it was fate. The middle of a rainstorm, a flat tire, a man looking to get warm and dry walks into a charming little roadhouse and meets the girl of his dreams. It was love at first sight.”

  And as he spoke, Caleb never took his eyes off Maya. She wanted to look away, but found she couldn’t.

  “Through a series of misunderstandings and bad decisions,” Bobby went on, “they fell out of touch. Ms. Brand didn’t want to be labeled a gold digger—a fear that was justified, if the tabloids are any indication. And Mr. Montgomery didn’t even know about the babies. Now these two have managed to get past all of that and put things together again. Not for the sake of the press, Mr. Atwater. They’ve done this in spite of the press. In spite of public opinion. In spite of irresponsible journalists who see fit to drag Miss Brand’s family and her character through the mud to sell papers. In spite of the whole damned world, Mr. Atwater, these two star-crossed lovers have found their way back to each other. This is not a political scandal. This is a love story, Atwater. A Christmas story. A miracle.”

  Maya blinked back her senseless tears and wondered if Bobby was about to burst into a chorus of the “Star Spangled Banner” or “Silent Night.” She thought Dirk Atwater might very well shed a tear of his own at any moment.

  But then he pursed his lips, met her eyes and said, “So then there won’t be any prenuptial agreement?”

  Bobby’s jaw dropped, and Caleb said, “Don’t you think that’s getting a bit too personal, Atwater? That’s over the line.”

  Maya held up a hand. “Actually, I’m insisting on one.” She sent a gentle smile Caleb’s way. She’d been watching Bobby, and she thought she got it now. This art of “spinning.” “I know you’re against it, Caleb,” she said, though she had no idea if he was or not. In fact, she rather thought he would be nuts not to ask for a prenup. “I just see no other way to prove to the world that all of this isn’t an elaborate conspiracy to get my hands on your family’s money.”

  “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Maya,” Caleb told her.

  She sighed, nodded, but from the corner of her eye she saw Bobby’s slight nod of approval. Good. She’d done her job, and maybe she ought to quit while she was ahead. “I’m a little tired,” she said, rubbing the small of her back.

  Caleb was beside her in a flash, arms sliding easily around her as he eased her back to her chair. The camera went off. “Do you need anything? A drink? Something to eat?”

  Bobby cleared his throat. “I think this is going to have to conclude the interview. Dirk, you have the exclusive on the impending marriage and the twins until tomorrow morning. Then we’ll issue a press release. That’s all.”

  Atwater clicked off the tape recorder, nodded once and gathered up his notebook. “Thank you both,” he said. “I appreciate this, and I think you’ll see that when my story runs tonight.” He shook Caleb’s hand. Gave Maya a gentle smile. “You take care, Ms. Brand.”

  The photographer snapped another shot and then they left.

  Maya blew air through her lips and let her head fall backward in the chair. “God, I’m glad that’s over.”

  “Oh, come on, don’t tell me that was tough on you,” Bobby chirped, smiling. “You sailed through it like a pro! Hell, where did you get all that stuff about the log cabin and the dog and the pansies? I couldn’t have made that stuff up if I’d tried!”

  She brought her head level again, saw Caleb searching her eyes. He said, “You fell back on your dreams, didn’t you, Maya?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I’m just a good liar.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Looking away, she said, “So do you think he bought it?”

  “We’ll know in a few hours, when the evening edition hits the streets,” Bobby said. “You two ought to go into town between now and then. Be seen together. Pick out some baby clothes or something. Great photo op, with all the press in Big Falls.”

  Maya tried not to grimace at the thought.

  Caleb said, “No. I think maybe a quiet, healthy meal and then a long nap would be a better choice. Don’t you, Maya?”

  “Sounds like heaven to me,” she said. “You must be reading my mind.”

  “I wish. Come on, let’s get you someplace more comfy than this hard chair. Sofa or bed?”

  “The easy chair will be sufficient. I can’t be dozing with a wedding to plan.”

  Caleb brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “Hey, trust your mom and sisters and Bobby and me to take care of all that, will you? You need your rest. You’ve got a pair of babies to deliver, you know.”

  She smiled a little nervously. “I want it simple, Caleb. No doves or violins or…or goose liver.”

  He made a silly pout. “Bobby, call the Pope and tell him we won’t need him to perform the ceremony after all, will you?”

  “Very funny,” she said. But she saw the odd, speculative look Bobby sent them.

  Caleb was already helping her to her feet, walking her into the living room and lowering her to the sofa. He tucked a stack of pillows behind her before ordering her to lie back, and then he stuck a few more under her feet. “I read that elevating the feet can ease the strain on the back.” Even as he said it, he pulled off her shoes, let them thud to the floor.

  “When you have time to do all this reading is beyond me,” she muttered, deciding to give in to the pampering. She was achy and tired, and it felt good to be babied. That tiny voice of doubt whispered at her not to get too used to it, but she brushed it aside.

  “Wait till you hear what I’ve learned about potty training.” Caleb winked at her. And she thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to live with this guy. At least…if that was what he intended.

  She wondered if it was. Wished it could be. Hated herself for daring to wish such a big wish.

  She fell asleep on the sofa in spite of her determination not to, and the nap was easily a couple of hours long. But the commotion in the kitchen woke her up at once. The deep booming voice belonged to some man who had no qualms about speaking at full volume. “Are you out of your mind! What are you thinking?”

  “Hey, just a goddarn minute, mister fancy-suit! Who in all hades do you think you are, storming into my kitchen, yellin’ like a lunatic, anyway!” Vidalia’s tone was just as loud and twice as mean.

  Maya started to get to her feet just as Kara reached the foot of the stairs. “What’s going on out there?” Kara asked.

  “Damned if I know,” Maya said. “Help me!” She held out a hand. Kara took it and pulled her to her feet. The yelling was still going on when the two of them walked into the kitchen. A man in a calf-length black wool coat stood just inside the door, having apparently just come in from outside. He leaned on a gleaming brass-handled walking stick. He had a face like a mountain of solid granite, after it had been blasted through to make room for a road to pass. Chiseled and lined and hard…but only on one side. The other side seemed oddly lax. The man towered a good six feet tall, even though he was leaning over just slightly, weight on the walking stick. He was waving a newspaper around in his other hand and saying, “Get out of my way, woman! This doesn’t concern you!”

  Vidalia was in his face, her forefinger poking him repeatedly in the chest to emphasize her words, “It’s my house, mister, and you’d better bel
ieve anything in it concerns me!”

  Behind her, Caleb shrugged. “You gotta admit, she has a point, Dad.”

  Maya gasped, and the three of them turned around, spotting her there. Caleb quickly took Kara’s spot beside her, his arm sliding protectively around her shoulders, his gaze doing a quick scan of her face. One she was getting used to. He was always looking at her like that, as if checking to be sure she was okay. As if he could see in her eyes if she wasn’t.

  “Maya, I’d like you to meet my father, Cain Caleb Montgomery the Second.” She looked from Caleb to the older man, who was scowling hard. “Dad, this is Maya. Soon to be your daughter-in-law and the mother of your first grandchildren.”

  “Over my dead body,” the old man growled.

  Vidalia leaned up into his face. “That can be arranged.”

  He glared at her, one eye narrowing slightly more than the other.

  “Mom, please,” Maya said, moving out of Caleb’s embrace to place a calming hand on her mother’s shoulder. Vidalia moved aside at Maya’s urging, and Maya stood before her future father-in-law. A more intimidating presence she couldn’t even begin to imagine. Even with the obvious damage the stroke had dealt him, he was an imposing man. But she lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “I understand you being upset about this, Mr. Montgomery. But I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt your son or your family.”

  His brows went up. “I’m not sure if you’re a good actress, woman, or if you’re as clueless as you pretend to be, but trust me, the harm has already been done. And continues to be done.”

  “Father—” Caleb began, a deep threatening tone in his voice.

  “No, Caleb, let him speak. Please. I want to hear how he thinks I’ve harmed your family.”

  “Our reputation! Our line! By God, girl, we can’t have a girl of your background muddying up our family tree!” He shook the newspaper again. “Illegitimate, they say! Father was a bigamist, for landsakes! Ties to organized crime. Mother who—”

  “Mother who what?” Vidalia asked, gripping the front of his shirt in her fists.

  He stopped talking, looked down at the woman. “You? You’re the saloon-owning mother?”

  “You’re damn straight I am, mister, and I’m about to forget my manners and toss your sorry carcass out into the nearest briar patch.”

  He blinked down at her, his eyes wide.

  “Mom,” Maya said, “at least this one didn’t call you a barmaid.” Not that she expected it to help.

  “Dad,” Caleb said firmly, “your mother was a waitress at a truck stop when your father met her. Or have you forgotten that?”

  “My father wasn’t running for the U.S. Senate when he met her.”

  “That’s totally irrelevant.”

  “That’s the only thing that is relevant! Don’t you know what this girl’s background is going to do to your campaign, son? And this,” glancing down at the newspaper he tossed it onto the table, “this fairy tale Bobby’s trying to sell the public—it’s never going to work. Voters don’t care about sappy stories, they care about their bank accounts.” He shook his head slowly, then closed his eyes and pressed a hand to them.

  Vidalia gripped his arm. “Sit down, you foolish old windbag, before you fall down.” She guided him to a chair. “Kara, get some of Selene’s calmin’ tea brewing. That with the chamomile and valerian root.” As Kara shot into action, Vidalia eyed the older man. “You had a stroke last spring, didn’t you?”

  He looked up, defensively. “I’m completely recovered from that.”

  “Didn’t learn anything from it, though, did you?”

  Maya pulled out a chair and sat down beside the old man. Caleb sat beside her and turned the newspaper around so he could examine the story. Maya watched him reading it over and saw his lips pull into a smile. Then he pushed it toward her. “It’s good,” he told her. “It’s very good.”

  “Good? Bah, it’s fiction! Any fool can see through that sorry excuse for a cover story,” his father said.

  Kara put a teacup down in front of the older man, and then Selene appeared with a big amethyst in one hand and a bowl of mixed herbs in the other. “I heard yelling. What’s up?” She set the amethyst in the middle of the table. The glittering purple stone winked and glimmered.

  “My father arrived,” Caleb said. “You can call him Cain. Dad, this is Selene, Maya’s sister, the one you haven’t insulted yet tonight. The two you have are Kara, her other sister, and Vidalia, her mother.”

  He lifted his brows. “Vidalia? Like the onion?” He stopped short of sniffing in derision.

  “That’s right. They named me that because I’m so good at making arrogant jackass men cry like babies.”

  “Easy, Mom,” Selene called from the range, where she was fiddling around. “The negative vibes are going to be cleared out of this room in just a few seconds.” She poured the remaining water from the tea kettle into a saucepan, lit the burner underneath it and stirred it slowly while sprinkling her herbs into the water.

  “What the hell is this? You have some kind of witch doctor in the family, too?”

  “Careful, or she’ll turn you into a toad,” Caleb told his father. “Drink your tea.”

  His father sipped. “Bad enough about the stripper in the family! Now we have voodoo!” His brows went up, and he licked his lips; then he sipped some more of the tea.

  “We do not have any strippers in this family, Mr. Montgomery,” Vidalia huffed.

  “Actually, Maya’s older sister is a highly successful model,” Caleb said.

  His father grimaced but kept sipping his tea. “I don’t care if she’s an Oscar-award-winning actress,” he muttered. “This marriage can’t happen. I won’t let it happen.”

  “You don’t have a choice in the matter, Father.”

  “Son, don’t you see what’s going to happen here? You’ll lose your shot at the Senate.”

  “I’d rather lose my shot at the Senate than lose my shot at being a father to these babies.”

  His father’s head came up, and his eyes seemed frozen. “Babies? There are two?”

  Maya saw the look Caleb sent his father. There was a message in it, one his father seemed to see and read. He said, “Yes, twins. It was in the article.”

  The old man’s gaze slid toward Maya, then lower to her belly, and she could have sworn there was something new there. A hint of…could that be concern? Worry? At least it wasn’t blatant hostility.

  “I got so wrought up I never finished reading the whole thing,” he said.

  Steam was rolling off Selene’s brew now, and she was waving a hand at it as if to send it around the room. It gave off a pleasant, woodsy aroma. Then there was a tap on the door. Bobby came in, Mel right behind him. Both of them were smiling as they shouldered their way into the crowded kitchen.

  Kara looked at them. “Where did you two meet up?”

  “Just now in the driveway,” Mel quickly told her. She had a bag of groceries in her hands, which she handed off to Vidalia. “Bobby says he has good news.” She got out of the way, sniffing the air as she went to check out Selene’s concoction.

  “I sure do. Dirk Atwater’s paper ran a telephone poll in the same issue as the story. Caleb, your numbers have gone through the roof since they last ran this same poll, two weeks ago. Then you were neck and neck with the other likely candidates. Now you’re leading them by more than thirty percent.”

  Caleb’s brows rose. That was his only reaction. His father, on the other hand, looked stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “The voters are actually falling for this nonsense?”

  “Voters have hearts, Cain,” Bobby told the older man. “I tried to tell you that years ago, but you never wanted to hear it.”

  “Well the voters in this family have stomachs,” Vidalia said firmly. “And if I hope to feed them, I’m going to need the bunch of you to take your backsides out of my kitchen.”

  Maya nodded and started to get to her feet, but Cal
eb put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. “Stay put. Have some tea. Relax,” he told her. “I’m gonna take my father over to the boarding house, get him settled in. I think I, uh…need to have a talk with him. Get some things…straight.”

  She nodded. “Don’t be hard on him, Caleb. He’s your father, no matter what.”

  Caleb glanced at his father, who must have overheard that remark. Maya wondered if the man was still scowling at her but didn’t turn to look.

  “Maya, we have all the arrangements in place. I don’t want you fussing or worrying about anything at all. All you have to do is wake up in the morning. We’re getting married at ten o’clock.”

  She felt her brows shoot upward. “But…how did you pull everything together so fast?” She looked from Caleb to her mother and back again.

  “Your mom can fill you in on the details. Okay?”

  She nodded. “O-okay. I guess. Caleb, there’s so much I want to talk to you about before we…you know…do this thing.”

  “I know.” He looked at her so intensely she could almost feel the touch of his eyes. “I know. I’ll come back early, I promise. We’ll have time to talk. All the time you want. Okay?”

  She nodded. Then sucked in a breath of surprise when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth. It was quick, brief, but not a peck. It was firm and moist. A kiss that…seemed to mean something. But what?

  Then he was gone, Bobby and his father with him.

  “See that?” Selene said, still wafting her steam with her hands. “Cleared away the negativity so well that it even chased the old grouch away!”

  “He’s not as bad as he seems,” Maya said.

  “No one could be as bad as he seems,” Vidalia said.

  “Gee, what did I miss?” Mel asked.

  Kara grinned. “It’s just as well you did miss it, Mel. Otherwise that old goat would have been carrying his walking stick in a new place.”

  “Kara!” Vidalia scolded—or tried to, but it was ruined when the grin she tried to suppress broke through.

  Everyone laughed. Then Maya said, “So my wedding is all planned?”

  Vidalia smiled at her. “I’m under strict orders from that man of yours to get your approval on everything first. But I’m supposed to do that without giving you the slightest cause for stress or tension.” She shrugged. “Guess he’s never been around too many brides before if he thinks that’s possible.” She turned to pull her notebook from the top of the fridge and, flipping it open, sat down at the table. “It’s amazing what that man manages to do with a few phone calls. I’m telling you, hon, having all that money and clout is not a bad thing.”

  Neither, Maya thought, was being so popular in the polls. For some reason, though, that news didn’t make her as happy as it should. Because it meant he would probably decide to run after all, even though he’d said repeatedly that he hadn’t made that decision yet. He would make it now. He would run, and he would win. And he would have to spend half his time, or maybe more, in Washington, D.C., and the other half in the state capital, or traveling around doing…political stuff. If she did get her dream house, she would be in it alone.

  Well, she thought, a hand on her belly, not entirely alone. Just not with him. And for some reason that felt like the same thing.

  Then again, he hadn’t promised they would be together constantly, or even live together at all. That was one of the things they needed to talk about. Their living arrangements. Because she had no intention of moving away from her family. Especially when they might be all she and the kids had, if Caleb turned out to be the kind of man who would break his word, let her down. The kind of man who wouldn’t be there when she really needed him.

  More and more, she doubted Caleb was that kind of man at all.

  If only she could be sure….

 

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