by Tess Brennan
When she carried the coffee mugs into the sitting room, along with the brownies she had baked the day before, he was standing in front of the tree, examining one of the baubles. She smiled when she saw what it was: a lopsided trinket that Sophie had made from pasta and sprayed silver. “I see you’ve found the family heirlooms. Sophie made that at school when she was about six.”
Tolly smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice when he spoke. “The best kind of decorations. We used to have some like this, but I’ve lost track of them.”
Kate set the cookies and coffee down on the coffee table and Tolly joined her, sitting opposite her on the two-seater sofa. Nessy settled down at his feet.
“Well?” Kate said, gesturing around. “Is it how you remember it?”
“The dimensions are the same, but that’s about the only thing Feels really homey, and tasteful.” He slanted a look at her. “The paintwork looks new.”
Kate nodded. “The Macreadys gave me two month’s rent free in exchange for painting it and doing a few running repairs. I’ve just added bits and pieces along the way.” Flea market stuff, mainly, she thought as she looked around. She enjoyed the challenge of paying next to nothing for a piece and making it into something pretty or elegant.
“I poked my nose into the bedrooms.” He picked up his coffee mug and sipped. “You’ve done a nice job there, too. Hey, this is good. I thought you didn’t know how to make coffee?”
“I didn’t say that. Just that I’m not as practiced as you.” She leaned back and looked at him covertly while he continued to stare around, taking in everything from the curtains to the cleverly restored side tables. He was a nice-looking man, Tolly Nelson, she conceded. He had his mother’s bright blue eyes and the same humorous tilt to his mouth. Dark hair flecked with gray, a slightly square jaw laughter lines at the corners of his eyes. She liked that.
She liked a man who cared for his mother, too. And teased her about her choice of bathroom fixtures.
Abruptly he turned his head and caught her staring at him. Feeling a blush stain her cheeks, Kate quickly said, “I was just thinking, I should go get that quilt I’m working on, so you can see. Um, did you bring the paint cards?”
“Sure did.” He set his coffee down, hitched up in his seat to get at his trouser pocket and pulled out a couple of rolled-up paint cards. All the while, though, he kept his eyes on hers, and Kate thought there was a speculative glint there.
Did he think she was flirting? The heat in her cheeks increased. Maybe he thought she had an ulterior motive in inviting him over. Embarrassing.
Maybe you did, a treacherous little voice said inside her head.
No, she told herself firmly. Things were complicated enough already. She didn’t need to start anything new. And he didn’t either, from what she’d heard. They were both still licking their wounds.
After almost two years? the voice persisted.
Be quiet! Kate bolted up out of her seat, not looking at him. “I’ll get the quilt. Back in a moment.”
In the sanctuary of her guest bedroom, which doubled as her craft room, she pressed her hands to her cheeks. This wasn’t good. She couldn’t start acting like a teenager. Heavens, her youngest daughter had more self-control than this!
How on earth did people start dating again after a marriage breakup, anyway? It was beyond her.
She opened the door to the built-in wardrobe and lifted out the bag that contained Grace’s quilt. She’d fitted out the small closet with a removable modular system of baskets and hanging rails, so she could take it with her if she had to relocate.
Please God that she didn’t. She was content here.
Next to the closet was her sewing machine, in a compact cabinet that opened out when she was working on a project. The sofa bed, cheerful with fat cushions that she’d quilted herself, was more versatile than a bed. She was happy with her solutions for living in a small house.
When she walked back into the sitting room, Tolly was smoothing out the paint cards, which were still curling at the edges after being in his pocket.
“Here it is.” Kate pulled the quilt centerpiece out of its bag and draped it over the back of the sofa. “Grace’s favorite flowers are in shades of blue and mauve and violet, so I’ve focused on that. But I’ve chosen shades of dusk, so I can blend in pinks and mauves, like the sky just after sunset.” She pulled out some folded lengths of fabric and some fat quarters she’d found on sale in Laredo. “These are the shades I’ll pick up in the border. Now let’s look at the paint.”
Tolly got up, stepped over Nessy and sat in the chair opposite so he could look at the quilt and the color cards she was holding up. For a moment he was silent, and she didn’t know how to read his face.
“What do you think?” she said. “Any preferences?”
Tolly looked at the paint chips, and then at her. “I think a lot of love and thought has gone into this. It’s all about my mother, designed to give her pleasure. Her favorite flowers, her favorite colors.” He smiled somewhat wistfully. “Even using the shades of dusk, her favorite time of day.”
Kate’s heart leapt. Dan would not have seen all that; would not have cared. “I think she’ll like it.”
“She’ll love it.” His eyes returned to the carefully executed blooms and petals, the graceful swoop of stem and leaves. “You’re very talented.”
“Nothing that any quilter couldn’t do.” That wasn’t strictly true, but she was never comfortable with praise. “I’m thinking that for the walls, we might look at the palest shades of dusk on the walls.” She tapped one tile, then another. “Water Iris, or Lavender Pearl, in Grace’s room. Maybe this one, Pink Mist, for the first guest room, darkening to Ashberry for a feature wall?”
Tolly broke into laughter. “Honestly, Kate? You choose. I have no clue.”
They spent the next half hour deciding on colors and furniture placement and extra purchases. Kate found herself volunteering to make quilt panels to throw across the beds in the guest rooms as well.
Heaven knew when she was going to find time to do it all.
Tolly finally looked at his watch. “I’d better get back. Mom will be wondering what’s happened to me.”
“Not if you brought coffee,” Kate pointed out. “She’ll be expecting you to stay for a cup. And she told you to ask me about colors. Just don’t tell her about the quilt.”
“Of course not.” Tolly glanced at it again, and his eyes warmed. “I want to be there when she opens it.”
“Well, if you’re here for Christmas, you will be.” Kate smiled at him, and then felt her pulse leap when he took her hand. Again, she felt her cheeks heat up.
Tolly leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for helping out. And thanks for being such a good neighbor to Mom.” He squeezed her hand and as his eyes met hers, there was a leap of something between them.
Not her imagination.
Kate swallowed and forced her voice to be brisk. “I don’t need thanks for that. Grace is not just a neighbor, she’s my friend.” She tugged her hand away from his. “I appreciate the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.” Adopting the same casual tone, he moved towards the front door. “Tomorrow, I’ll buy paint and move Mom into the guest room. I want to have the walls done for Christmas, so they’ll do justice to that quilt.”
“You’re painting it yourself? No tradesmen?” She’d got the impression Grace had included painting in the renovations budget.
“Gotta do something with my time.” He looked around again and then grinned at her. “And I can’t have you outdoing me.”
He left, and Kate stood there staring at the closed door, feeling her lips curve up in a ridiculously happy smile.
Tolly Nelson. Grace’s son. All-round nice guy.
“Tolly Nelson,” she said aloud, and then drew in a deep breath. “We’ll see.”
5
The next morning, Lily Carella stopped Kate as she was walking up the steps of the hall next to
the church after the service, carrying four bags of Christmas decorations. “Hey, Kate. Can I have a moment?”
“Sure.” Kate nodded at the door. “Follow me in so I can dump these. Someone donated a nativity scene; I’m sure it’s made of lead!”
“Give me a couple.” Lily took two of the bags and almost dropped one. “Oof, I see what you mean!”
Inside, Kate put the bags on a table and looked around. The hall had seen better days, and the chipped beige paint did little to brighten it up. “You know what? We need a working bee in here. Some paint, new curtains…
“And decent chairs.” Lily rolled her eyes, jerking her thumb at the stacks of chairs at one end of the hall. “Two hours in here at bible study and I’m ready to scream.”
Kate thought of the work to do at Grace’s house and pursed her lips. “Maybe we can get something rolling after Christmas. It’s getting a bit busy.” And maybe, she thought, Tolly could come and help out.
As though reading her mind, Lily said curiously, “Who was that you and Grace were sitting with today?”
“Tolly Nelson. Grace’s son.”
“The one who lives in L.A.? So he’s visiting?”
“Overseeing Grace’s renovations,” Kate explained. “He’s here for six months or so.”
“Really?” Lily helped Kate unpack the bags, arranging the parts of the Nativity scene on the table and separating the tinsel and wreaths and figurines into colors and sizes. “I thought he ran some high-powered business. Not that Grace has ever said much about him.”
“No, she hasn’t.” Kate realized that actually, she knew very little about Tolly or his business. “He’s put someone in charge for a while, I believe.” She looked at petite Lily, with her slight frame and clear gray eyes. It had taken a while for Lily to become part of the community. She’d moved to Hope Valley five months before, with a haunted look in her eyes and a tendency to jump at a touch or a sudden noise. For weeks she had sat silently at the very back of the church, dressed in conservative clothes and with her eyes cast down.
Hiding, Kate knew instinctively.
Then one-day Pastor Green had motioned Kate over to introduce them, and suggested that Lily might like to help out at the bake sale. Lily looked as though she wanted to run, but at the pastor’s slight nod and meaningful look, Kate had taken her under her wing.
Lily didn’t like questions, and Kate respected that. Lily would confide in her when she was ready.
Which didn’t appear to be today. Lily was fussing now, picking up and putting down ornaments, clearly putting off whatever she wanted to say.
“OK,” Kate said, folding the bags and theatrically dusting off her hands. “Now all we have to do is actually put all of this up!” She glanced at Lily. “Sarah’s coming to help after she takes her Gran home. You’re welcome to help too, if you don’t have to rush off.”
“Well, I don’t, but…” Lily bit her lip. “Who else will be here?”
“Nobody else.” Kate knew who Lily was worried about. There was always someone in the congregation who had to know everything, and Diane Callaway was one of them. “Diane was going to help, but she begged off this morning. Apparently she has to take care of her grandchildren.”
“So it’s just you and Sarah?”
“Just me and Sarah.” Kate grinned at her. “Come on, we need you. You’re young and agile. We can make you run up and down the ladder. Climb on tables.”
Lily gave her a rare smile. “OK then. And that brings me to what I was going to ask you.” She picked up a length of tinsel, put it down again, and then said in a rush, “Would you like to come over for coffee this afternoon?”
Kate felt a surge of pleasure. It had taken a long time for Lily to exchange more than a few words with anyone, and an invitation to go to her house was a big step forward. Until now, whenever Kate had picked up Lily, she’d been standing at the front gate waiting.
Kate had planned to do some more of Grace’s quilt, but that could wait. “I’d love to. What time?”
Lily’s face lit up. “Um, say, three?”
“Perfect. I’ll bring a slice.”
“No, no. Don’t bring anything. I made a cake.” Looking as though she’d run a marathon, Lily huffed out a breath. “Well. Good.” She gestured at the decorations. “What should we do first?”
“We’ll set up the Nativity scene on a table at the front, and work back from there.” Kate picked up a white tablecloth she’d brought to cover the old chipped folding table.
They set to work, with Kate stealing looks at Lily. Arranging the wise men around the hay-filled cradle, with her fine blonde hair swinging around her face, she looked happy.
Must be the spirit of Christmas, Kate thought, smiling to herself as she laid out a hammer, tacks and tape. Lily was coming out of her shell, Grace was happy to have Tolly home for Christmas, and she herself… she was hoping that there might, just might, be something between her and Tolly Nelson.
Then her phone rang, and when Kate dug it out of her pocket Amy’s photo was on the screen.
“Excuse me, Lily.” She waved the phone and hurried down to the back of the hall as she tapped the green button. “Amy. Hi.”
“Mother!” Amy’s furious voice made Kate hold the phone out from her ear. “You’ll never guess what Dad has done now!”
Dan had found out what the girls were up to, apparently, and he was not happy. So not happy, in fact, that he had hired his own lawyer – and warned the girls that this was not the way to ensure that their father would continue to be in their lives.
“He phoned each one of us,” Amy raged. “He yelled at Brooke. And poor Sophie. I hate him!”
Kate flinched. “Amy, love…”
“Don’t you dare. If you start pulling that Christian charity stuff I’m hanging up. Right now.”
Kate closed her eyes and tried to ignore her fast-beating heart. “Amy, listen to me.”
There was a pause, then a sulky, “I’m listening.”
“Take the emotion out of this, Amy, and think logically. If it had been you, and you found out that your children were all taking legal action, would you be happy? Of course he’s angry. Of course he’s phoning you all. He wants you to stop.” And so do I, she added silently.
“Too bad. We’re not going to. He’s just made me more determined than ever to get what we deserve.” Amy’s voice trembled with rage.
Kate itched to hang up and hide somewhere, but forced herself to stay on the phone. Don’t offer solutions, she reminded herself, having flashbacks to some long-ago therapy session when Amy was a supremely awful teenager. Just listen. “I can imagine,” she said lamely.
“Did he phone you?”
“No,” Kate said. “Did you tell him it was just you girls doing this? Or does he think we’re all joining forces on this?”
“Um.” There was a silence. “We didn’t tell him you weren’t in on it.”
“Oh, Amy.”
“We didn’t say you were, either.” Irritation laced her voice. “Go ahead and tell him he’s off the hook with you, if you want. We didn’t want to give him any kind of leverage.”
“I had my phone on silent in church, but there were no messages. He’ll be calling me sooner or later.” She paused, and when Amy didn’t fill the silence, went on, “So what are you going to do now?”
“Our lawyer is following the trail,” Amy said. “One of Dad’s pals who lent him money got mad at Dad when he didn’t pay him back. Lots of promises, but nothing more. He complained to someone else and that person told me.”
“Amy.” Kate didn’t quite know how to explain her fears, so she just rushed on. “I don’t know who is representing you, but I really, really hope you know what you’re doing. That he knows what he’s doing. Lawyers can be horrendously expensive, and if you lose and have to pay legal fees – it could bankrupt you. And your sisters.”
“This is solid, Mother. I’m sure of it.”
“What did you say to your father?”
> “I told him to go bite himself.” Amy’s voice was both scornful and triumphant. “That we had proof, and if he didn’t do the right thing, he was going down.”
Kate felt so apprehensive she could scarcely breathe. “Oh, Amy. I hate to say this, but you and your father both have a temper. Neither of you have ever liked to give way. I can’t see this ending well.”
“I don’t care. He’s not getting away with it. If I have to, I’ll go public. See how he likes being exposed in the media.” Amy laughed bitterly. “You know how important his reputation is to him.”
Yes, Kate thought tiredly, she knew only too well. Dan had never been satisfied with what he had; he was always out until all hours, socializing, greasing the wheel, drinking with acquaintances. He was all about image.
“What do your sisters think of all this?”
“They’re more like you, Mother. Ready to cave in at the first sign of opposition.”
“That’s a little unkind, Amy. They just like a peaceful life. You can’t blame them for that.”
Amy bridled. “Well, I can, actually. They both agreed with me that it wasn’t fair and that Dad owed all of us. But when it comes to a fight, poof! They’re gone.”
“Are you saying that they no longer want to pursue this?”
“They want me to pursue it. They just don’t want Dad harassing them. Well, they’d better get used to it, because that’s the way he is.”
Feeling terminally tired, Kate leaned against the chipped beige wall and watched Lily pretending not to listen to the conversation. “So what’s the next step?”
“We’re still fighting it. Brooke and Sophie are with me, although they’re scared and they don’t want to talk to Dad anymore.” A wheedling note entered her voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to help us?”
Kate gave an inward sigh. Trust Amy to put it in a way that made it sound like her mother was letting them down. “No, Amy, I made it clear that I don’t want to be involved. I’ve moved on.”
“Nice for you,” Amy said snippily. “Not so great for Sophie, is it? Sometimes, Mother, I wish you’d grow a spine.”
