When the Snow Falls

by Fern Michaels

  Veda laughed. “In a small town like this, I’m sure you’ve heard more than that, Mrs. Teague.”

  “Please call me Grace. And, yes, I’ve heard that you and Reese were once a couple. I’m sure you also know Jack once had quite a reputation as a ladies’ man around here.”

  Veda dropped her eyes.

  Grace’s lips twitched. “The nice thing about life is that it is full of surprises, and people change. I’ve enjoyed learning that. And I’ve come to terms with the fact that you can hardly sneeze in this small town without someone saying ‘bless you’ right afterward. There are few secrets here.”

  Veda took a bite of the pumpkin bread. “Ummm, this is great! It makes me think of my aunt Rita Jean’s sweet breads. She made the best pumpkin and banana breads for the holidays.”

  “I’m glad I moved to Townsend in time to meet your aunt, and to hear her tell several of her wonderful stories.” She sipped her tea. “It’s nice that you’re willing to share one of those at the church service.”

  Veda looked up. “I’d forgotten we go to the same church. I’ve only been back for a few weeks and have only attended two of the services with Sutton. It’s a busy time with the trees.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it is, and it’s dreadful that thieves have been stealing Sutton’s Christmas trees.” She pursed her lips. “There’s something especially dreadful about learning someone would steal Christmas trees, isn’t there?”

  “Yes, there is, and it makes me really mad just to think about it.”

  “Have you finished your shopping?” Grace asked, changing the subject.

  “I drove to Maryville and hit the mall today while I had the day off. I think I’ve finished the short list I have to cover.” She caught Grace’s eye then. “Is there anything I can buy for the Co-op party, or anything at all I can do to help with it?”

  Grace waved a hand. “Nothing. I have more help than I need already, and all of us are just so grateful you were willing to come to manage the Co-op, if only through the winter, while we put out feelers for another manager.”

  Curious, Veda asked, “What made you decide to move to Townsend and buy the Mimosa Inn? Sutton said you come from a big city and have family there.”

  She laughed. “I wasn’t escaping, simply looking for a way to be useful after being widowed for several years. I’d always loved bed-and-breakfasts and found myself attracted to this one.” She paused, a small smile touching her lips. “It’s a long story, how I came to discover the inn and decided to stay. Perhaps I’ll tell it to you one day, but right now I think I see the girls coming back with the dogs. They’ve had them out for a walk.”

  The kitchen door opened to let in a sweep of cold air, along with two young girls and two small corgi dogs.

  “Oh, they look like my Lucy.” Veda crouched down to let the dogs sniff her hand. “I have a corgi, too.”

  “Remember your manners, Sadie and Dooley.” Grace spoke to the dogs in a warm, firm voice.

  Both dogs sat and extended a paw to Veda.

  “They want you to shake hands,” explained one of the twins, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it across a chair. The other girl removed her jacket and hat, too, revealing to Veda that the two were identical in looks—both about eleven or twelve and with the same brown hair and merry eyes.

  Veda shook hands with the dogs, who then padded across the kitchen to find their food and water bowls.

  “This is Veda Trent.” Grace made the introductions. “And Veda, these are my daughters, Meredith and Morgan Teague.”

  Veda shook the girls’ hands, feeling they were old enough for the formalities now. “I remember both of you only as babies in the church,” she said. “I’ve been away from Townsend for eight years now.”

  “You’re Rita Jean’s niece who’s come to run the Co-op,” Morgan said, sliding into a kitchen chair. “It’s a cute shop.”

  “Yum. Can I have some of this pumpkin loaf?” Meredith leaned over to sniff the fragrant bread still on the table.

  “Me, too?” Morgan asked, taking another empty chair.

  “Yes to both of you, and I’ll pour you cups of spice tea, as well. It’s really cold outside today.”

  Veda took that opportunity to stand. “I need to go on home, Grace. I have a carload of gifts to unload and supper to make for Sutton and myself.”

  Grace stood. “Let me walk you to the door.”

  They walked down the hallway together.

  “I’m so glad you came by to meet me, and I look forward to seeing you again at the party this Friday evening.” Grace reached into a holiday bowl by the door, snagged a candy cane, and tucked it into Veda’s pocket. “Come back any time.”

  As Veda drove home, the scene of Grace and her daughters played through her mind. She’d seen so much love and warmth among them. Would it be that way with she and Pamela if Reese and she got together? Despite her desire to be strong and independent, Veda also yearned to be loved—to be part of a family where she belonged. Coming back to Townsend had dropped her into an uncomfortable dilemma, with a desire to stay and a desire to go. She felt really torn with the situation, and there were no clear answers. Reese wanted to go forward with their relationship, but could they? She was afraid there were too many painful memories of the past to move beyond.

  Chapter 6

  Reese, sitting at his desk in the law office, glanced at his calendar. Less than two weeks until Christmas. His eyes skimmed over the other events marked throughout the month. He looked at the calendar a lot these days, worrying that Veda might decide to move on in the New Year. He’d seen a printout of employment opportunities on her desk only this morning when he dropped by with some papers for her to sign.

  “What’s this?” he’d asked, picking it up.

  She flushed. “A few job openings one of my friends, Stacy Parsons in St. Augustine, sent me. We were roommates in Ponce de Leon Hall at Flagler College.” She pointed to a small photo on her desk of herself and a smiling, dark-headed girl with their arms linked. “She’s my best friend there.”

  “And she misses you,” he put in, dropping the printout back onto her desk.

  “Yeah.” She leaned back in her worn desk chair in the upstairs Co-op office. “I was lucky that I met up with Stacy when I went to Flagler. She and I hit it off right from the start.” She smiled. “Stacy is the assistant director of tourism in St. Augustine now, and helps plan programs, projects, events, tours, does marketing, and helps with the St. Augustine website. She’s trying to find me a job so I’ll come back.”

  “I see.” He pointed to another photo of a cute, aqua-blue building with crisp white trim. “Is that your shop in St. Augustine?”

  “That was my shop: Vintage Collectibles, right on Orange Street, a charming little avenue in the downtown historic district. St. Augustine is such a wonderful old city, Reese, with Spanish architecture everywhere, moss-draped oaks mixed with palm trees, colorful cottages, horse-drawn carriages trotting down the street, and a touch of sea breeze floating in on the air sometimes from the ocean nearby.”

  “You liked it there.” He sat down in the chair beside her desk.

  “I did.” Her eyes wandered to the shop picture. “One of the few happy memories I have of spending time with my mother and father together was in St. Augustine. Mother went down there for a photo shoot and Daddy shot the pictures. They had separated by that time, but they still maintained an amicable relationship. We all stayed in a downtown bed-and-breakfast and enjoyed happy times together around the city and at the beach. A lot of the photos for the shoot were taken on the Flagler campus. It has incredible historic Spanish buildings, fountains, and gardens. The school stayed in my memory, so when I realized I couldn’t come back to Townsend for college, it was one of the first places I thought of.”

  “You decided this after you heard I married Dee Dee, didn’t you?”

  She gave him an annoyed look. “I told you that before, Reese. Stop trying to make me feel guilty for not wanting to come back
to a place where my boyfriend just married someone else.” She flipped back her hair. “I only halfway belonged here anyway. I never felt I truly was part of this town, like everyone else.”

  “Why? You had family here, roots, people who loved you.”

  “I guess it looked that way, but I always seemed to be waiting for some sense of connection that never came.”

  “And you found that in St. Augustine?”

  She shrugged. “Yes, sort of. I wasn’t always living something down or living in someone else’s shadow. I was simply Veda Trent there—not Rita Jean’s niece, Skyler Trent’s daughter, or the odd girl who got dumped by her family and never really fit in. I got a fresh start there.”

  “Do you want to go back?”

  Veda blew out a long breath. “I wish I knew what I wanted, Reese. I seem to be waiting for something. I feel pending, like the legal term.”

  “Awaiting decision or settlement; awaiting conclusion.”

  “Yeah, pending.” She shifted in her chair and then got up to walk across the office to look out the dormer window. “It’s spitting snow,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He waited for her to go on.

  “You know, I’ve been reading Rita Jean’s journals and old stories, trying to decide on a special one to read or tell at the Christmas Eve service.” She picked up her thoughts again. “Rita Jean wrote out many of her favorite stories in her journals, and she wrote down thoughts her grandmother, Unole Watie O’Neill, shared.”

  “The Cherokee grandmother?”

  “Yes.” She watched the snowflakes falling outside. “In one story Unole told, she was trying to decide, as a young girl, whether to stay with her people or to marry my great-grandfather, Brannon O’Neill.”

  “I guess it was hard to think of leaving her people,” he said. “Transportation was more limited, people less connected in the early 1900s, and I’m sure Unole knew she’d experience prejudice.”

  “She did.” Veda came back over to sit down, leaning toward Reese. “Unole went to the Wise One in their village for help. The Wise One told her, ‘The way will be shown to you and you will know. The wind will speak to you—and in the place where the wind speaks to you that is where you belong.’ ”

  Reese knew enough from Veda’s seriousness not to laugh. “Do you think maybe your way will be shown to you? Is that what you’re waiting for?”

  She made a face. “It’s a silly thought, I guess.”

  “Perhaps your heart will tell you what to do, Veda.”

  “Hearts are unreliable.” She slanted him a sharp glance.

  Deciding not to answer, he glanced at his watch. “I have a client coming. I need to go.” Reese stood. “I’ll pick you up for the Co-op party this Friday night. It’s dressy versus casual—suits for the men, holiday dresses for the women. Jack Teague said he and his wife have decorated the inn lavishly for the holidays and this event. Jack’s on the Co-op board.”

  “I know. I went to meet Grace Teague at the inn earlier this week. Lovely woman.” She grinned at him. “She has two corgis just like Lucy.”

  Reese turned to go, wishing he had the right words to say before he did.

  And now he sat in his office, mulling over that earlier meeting with Veda, wishing he could convince her that his heart wasn’t as unreliable as she thought. He wished he could erase the past years, start again.

  Eleanor leaned into the office. “I’m back from lunch,” she said. “You can run over to the Deli now and eat with Lewis Connor. I think you told me earlier you planned to have lunch with him today.”

  “I did.” He looked up at his younger cousin, so much a McNally in looks, with her dark hair, brown eyes, tall build, and olive complexion. “Have you ever been in love, Eleanor?”

  She smiled at him and leaned against the door frame. “At least ten times.” She laughed. “Usually unrequited love.”

  “Do you think we McNallys are doomed to that, to unrequited love?”

  “I hope not.” She glanced out the window to where the snow had built to a light layer on the ground. “I want a home, family, someone to spend my life with. I hope to meet a guy who will love me, too.” She straightened her glasses. “I’m not a beauty, but I’m hoping someone will see my good points someday, and love those things about me.”

  Reese felt surprised at her words. Awkward himself when younger, he hadn’t realized his cousin felt somewhat uncomfortable in her own skin, too.

  “He’s out there, Eleanor, and you’re more beautiful than you realize—outside as well as inside.”

  She blushed. “Thanks.”

  “How’s school coming?” he asked, knowing Eleanor was still taking paralegal classes.

  “Straight As.” She grinned at him. “We McNallys are smart, if a little geeky.”

  Reese put his computer to sleep and handed Eleanor a stack of papers. “Here are the notes for the will that needs to be drawn up for Mr. and Mrs. Norton, who I met with earlier.”

  “I’ll get to work on it while you’re at lunch.”

  A swirl of December cold air hit Reese as soon as he stepped out the front door. The temperature was dropping. If it kept snowing, chances were good it would stick. The fields already showed about an inch of snow, and white had begun to decorate the rooftops.

  Cutting across the highway, he walked the short block to The Last Deli, which the Connor family had owned for as long as he could remember. Cecil and Mary Connor lived across the highway on a side road, and their son, Lewis, had been Reese’s friend since childhood. Lewis, now married, worked in the Deli, helping his parents run the small restaurant, gift shop, and pick-up grocery store. He and his wife, Leanne, had built a newer home on the property near Lewis’s parents’ house.

  Reese opened the door to the sound of Christmas music blasting out on the radio, and Mary in the kitchen, singing along to a favorite song. Lewis crossed the floor from the register to brush the snow off Reese’s jacket and toss it on a peg by the door.

  “Good timing. The place is quiet after the lunch rush, and with the snow, I doubt we’ll have much traffic the rest of the day.” He pulled out a ladder-back chair at a table by the window and sat down. A red-checked oilcloth covered the table, and the black-and-tan squares on the linoleum floor showed wet spots where snowy boots had recently tracked in and out.

  “Dang, it’s really coming down, ain’t it?” Lewis looked out the plate-glass window. “Wish this had waited until Christmas. I’d like a white Christmas this year.”

  Reese settled into a chair across from Lewis, his eyes moving fondly over his friend’s full-figured frame, his wiry reddish-brown hair, and the bit of chin beard he’d added to his appearance in the last year. He wore the white shirt, khaki pants, and Deli apron that marked the standard everyday uniform of the Connors.

  “Mom’s making us a couple of Reuben sandwiches with Swiss and adding homemade slaw and potato salad on the side. Sauerkraut on my Reuben, but none for you, since you don’t like it.” He leaned back in the old chair, glad to get off his feet for a while. “She’s made pecan pie for dessert.”

  “Mary!” Reese called to her over the music. “If you weren’t married, I’d marry you myself for your cooking.”

  She waved a hand at him in dismissal, obviously pleased.

  “So, what’s going on?” Reese asked his friend.

  Lewis, always talkative, began to entertain Reese with customer stories, giving him a needed laugh. “Lordy day, people are funny.” He grinned. “But I love working with the public, don’t you?”

  Reese, remembering the odd little couple who’d come to his office earlier to draw up their will, agreed. Mrs. Norton had a quirky habit of repeating every single point her husband made—“Like Clyde said . . .”—and it had been hard to keep a straight face.

  “You and Leanne going to the Co-op party at the Mimosa this Friday?” Reese asked, knowing that Lewis, as well as his mother, served on the Co-op’s board.

  “Shoot fire, the Connor women wouldn’t miss
it, Reese.” He laughed. “Gives them a chance to get gussied up in fancy holiday dresses. I had to go get a new suit for the dang thing.”

  “Lewis picked up too much weight this year around his middle and couldn’t button the old one,” his mother announced, coming over with two loaded plates for their lunch.

  Her eyes moved to Reese’s. “You bringing Veda Trent to this shindig on Friday to meet all of us on the board and to get to know all the artisans she don’t know already?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, that’s good.” Mary hesitated. “You think there’s any chance you might get back with her?” She threw out the question in the candid way only she could get away with. “You know I’m right direct.”

  “Gosh, Maw, that’s kind of personal and in your face, don’t you think?” Lewis winced.

  “Well, Reese knows I’ve watched him grow up since he was rat high, and I know well enough how he loved Veda Trent all his life before getting hooked up with that Palmer girl.” She patted Reese on the shoulder. “I’d like to see the two of you get back together. So would your daddy. Might clear the way some for he and Martha Seymour.”

  Reese raised an eyebrow.

  “Geeze, Maw.” Lewis rolled his eyes.

  “What about Martha Seymour?” Reese asked, remembering the personable blond widow who worked at the Heritage Center. He knew his dad had taken her to a few events, and gone out to dinner with her a few times.

  “They’re gettin’ right sweet on each other.” She smiled and pushed a strand of short reddish hair off her face. “I watch things like that with people comin’ here all the time to eat. You see a lot, workin’ in a restaurant, hear a lot of stuff, too, and mostly folks don’t pay you no never mind while they’re here.”

  Reese, surprised, considered Mary’s words. She did know his father well. “You think Dad’s getting serious about Martha Seymour?”

  “Would you mind if he did?” Mary asked, propping a hand on one hip. “He ain’t dead yet, you know, just widowed all these years—first needin’ to raise you and then helpin’ with Pamela after all that happened.”