The Heart of Christmas

by Brenda Novak

  “Then maybe his leaving will be a blessing in disguise, Eve. You don’t know that he could be a good father to your baby any more than he does. He has a lot of...issues.”

  “Sometimes people with ‘issues’ can overcome them. Look what Presley’s done with her life, Chey. Look at Aaron. Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on them?”

  “I am. But I’d have to say they’re the exception to the rule.”

  “Rex could do the same,” she insisted.

  Cheyenne moved a rolling table farther to one side so she could raise the head of her bed. “And The Crew? Whiskey Creek isn’t that far from San Francisco.”

  “They’d have no reason to look here. Not if he got into a different line of work.”

  “He’s in his thirties, Eve, and changing professions is easier said than done. What would he be able to do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But I’d rather he worked at a fast food joint than be at risk. Life is a series of compromises.”

  “That’s a big one.”

  The door opened and a nurse walked in. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But I need to take Mrs. Amos’s blood pressure.”

  “I’d better go,” Eve told Cheyenne.

  “Wait,” Cheyenne said. “When are you going to tell your parents?”

  She didn’t specify “about the baby,” but Eve knew what she meant. “Not now,” she said. “Maybe after the holidays.”

  The nurse slipped the cuff onto Cheyenne’s arm and began to inflate it. “Everything’s going to be okay,” Cheyenne said. “You’ve got me, and Dyl and all the rest of us.”

  Sophia had told her the same thing. At least, considering the way things were going with Rex, she wouldn’t have to worry about leaving all her friends behind. Not to mention the B and B and her parents. If it came right down to it, she wasn’t sure she could do that, anyway. “I know,” she said. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  “How come you’re back?”

  Cecelia, her night manager, was understandably surprised to see Eve at the B and B. It was after eleven.

  “I’m too wound up to sleep,” she said. “So I decided to get a few things done here.”

  “But you were exhausted when you left. You look exhausted now.”

  She shrugged. “Like I said...”

  Cecilia’s lips turned down. “Are you okay? You don’t seem yourself these days.”

  Eve wasn’t herself. She was in love with a man who was pursued by a dangerous gang, and she was pregnant with his child. Now he would leave, and she would probably never hear from him again. Not only that, but the news of her pregnancy would cause a stir in town. Her parents would have to defer the trip they had planned for this summer so they could be home for the birth. And she’d have to make an acceptable babysitting arrangement so she could continue to work after the baby was born—at least once the child got a bit older and wanted to run around.

  “I just have a lot on my mind,” she mumbled.

  “Of course you do. You’re a godmother now.”

  She was going to be a mother this summer. “Cheyenne’s baby is beautiful,” she said, mostly to change the focus of the conversation.

  “No wonder you’re excited. I can’t wait to see him.”

  They chatted for a few minutes about Kellan and how proud Dylan was to be a father. Then Cecelia returned to the kitchen, presumably to handle her part of the food prep for breakfast as well as afternoon tea, which was something she did every night.

  Eve remained where she was. A text had just come in from Ted. He was responding to a message she’d sent him earlier, amid the clamor of Victorian Days, thanking him for trying to protect her, for caring enough to get involved and for going to so much trouble and expense to solve the mystery of Little Mary’s death.

  You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, he’d written in reply. But I’ll always be there for you.

  She had to smile at that. That’s your way of accepting my apology?

  That was an apology?

  It was an olive branch.

  I was never mad at you. Just worried.

  I know.

  Are you going to be okay?

  Whatever happens, I’ll get through it.

  She’d dropped her phone back in her purse, intent on heading down the hall to the office, when the doorbell rang. For the sake of safety, whoever it was couldn’t get in after eleven unless he or she was already a guest and had a key or a staff member opened the door. Having heard the bell, Cecelia poked her head out of the kitchen but Eve was closer and waved her off. “I’ve got it,” she said.

  Occasionally someone showed up late, looking for a room. Thanks to Victorian Days, they were nearly full tonight, but there was one room left. Eve would’ve been eager to book it, except that as soon as she opened the door, she knew she didn’t want to let the four men standing on her porch inside. They smelled of alcohol, were covered in ink depicting immoral and violent acts and wore hard-ass expressions, indicating that their attitudes weren’t any more appealing than their appearance.

  “What can I do for you?” She offered what she hoped was a professional smile.

  “What do you think?” the guy closest to her replied. “This is a B and B, isn’t it?”

  The others snickered at his rudeness.

  “I thought maybe you’d like the wedding suite for you and whichever one of these men is your partner. Is this a celebration?”

  His eyes flashed in anger when she drew more laughter than he had. “Fuck, no. Not that kind of celebration. Just give us a couple of rooms.”

  She almost said she was booked for the night. She doubted her current guests would feel comfortable sharing lodgings with such people. But as she opened her mouth to say the words, she noticed that the man who’d spoken had letters tattooed on the knuckles of one hand. They were written in such elaborate script that it took her a moment to realize what they spelled. But when that word registered, her blood ran cold. C-R-E-W.

  Swallowing hard, she backed up a step. “I’m afraid we don’t have much available.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” he asked.

  She almost told him he had to go, that she’d call the cops if he didn’t. But the fact that he might react violently stopped her. So did the thought that it might be wiser to know where these men were than to send them away and then wonder.

  “It means, because of Victorian Days, we’re down to only one vacancy.”

  He stared at her for a second. Then he nudged the guy standing behind him. “Give me that photograph.”

  She hadn’t noticed it until that moment, but the other guy held a manila envelope. He handed it over, and the first man pulled out a glossy eight-by-ten, which he shoved at her.

  “You ever seen this guy?”

  Eve’s heart was pounding in her ear so loud she could barely hear above it. Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she took hold of what he was giving her, but she knew before she even looked that it would be Rex.

  Sure enough, they had a picture of Rex exiting an office building. The image was slightly blurred, since he was in movement, but there was no question about his identity. She could easily make out his blond hair, his well-sculpted features, his lean, wiry build.

  But she frowned as if she didn’t recognize him and shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. He a friend of yours?”

  “My long-lost brother.”

  The others laughed again.

  “You sure you don’t recognize him?” the first man asked.

  “Positive,” she replied. “If he lived in this area, I’d know it. I’ve been here my whole life.”

  “He don’t live here. He’s just passin’ through.”

  She almost volunteered the fact that there was another B and B in town. She was nervous enough to let just about anything come out of her mouth. But she was afraid the Russos, who owned A Room with a View, or one of their employees, might’ve seen Rex around town and wouldn’t know to claim otherwise. “If so
, he’s not staying here. I’d remember a face like that.”

  “’Course you would. Too bad he’s got nothin’ a little lower down.”

  Too bad she knew otherwise.

  She handed the picture back. “So...would you like to book the room? I doubt you’ll find anything else in town this late.”

  “Why not?” he said. “Asshole and Dickhead, here, can sleep in the car.”

  “Ah, man! That’ll be a bitch!” either Asshole or Dickhead cried.

  “Hey, who you callin’ Asshole?” the other guy asked.

  The one who seemed to be in charge turned to scowl at them both, and the complaints stopped.

  “I’ll just need to see some ID and a credit card,” she said.

  “I’ll pay cash,” he responded, as if that was all she should require.

  Curling her fingernails into her palms, she told herself to stay calm. “You can pay with cash if you like, when you check out, but I’ll need a credit card to book the room. And I’ll need to see some ID, too, to prove that the credit card you’re using belongs to you. It’s nothing personal. Just our standard operating procedure. These days it’s the same for practically all hotels and motels.”

  “Stupid whore,” he muttered, and got out his wallet.

  29

  “Wasn’t that quite a party?” Mrs. Higgins asked. They’d both been trying to sleep for the past two hours, but had somehow ended up in the living room together, her with a cup of tea and him just staring at the Christmas lights.

  “I’ve always loved Victorian Days. They’ve been a tradition here since I was a child,” she added.

  Rex found it difficult to pull himself out of the mire of his thoughts long enough to respond. But he forced himself to do that because he really liked Mrs. Higgins. She was set in her ways, and lonely after the loss of her husband and son, but she was easy to be around, supportive, kind. It almost felt as if he was living with his grandmother.

  He stretched out his legs and rested his hands on his abdomen. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

  Her cup clinked on its saucer. “I have.”

  “You still love it.” That was more of an observation than a question.

  “Of course. It’s beautiful, quiet, filled with wonderful people.” She set her tea aside so she could get up and move one of the ornaments she apparently felt was out of place. “Why would I want to go anywhere else?”

  “How do you know you couldn’t find something better? There’s a big world out there.” At least that was what he kept telling himself. He had to make venturing out into it seem appealing, since staying put wasn’t an option for him.

  “There’s no place like home,” she said with absolute conviction.

  How often had he heard that cliché? Somehow it didn’t sound so trite this time. The very concept of home made him feel like a perpetual wanderer.

  But could he blame all of that on The Crew? Maybe, as Eve had said, his behavior stemmed from something deeper than a physical threat. Maybe he devoted himself to his work because it was the only source of self-worth he had, and it gave him a sense of confidence he could cultivate and maintain. He was good at what he did, knew he wouldn’t let his clients down. Despite the dangers of his job, there was a strange kind of safety in that.

  Mrs. Higgins tightened her robe. With curlers in her hair and pink furry slippers on her feet, she reminded him of the old lady on those funny greeting cards, except that she was shorter and rounder. “I hear you’ve got your eye on that pretty daughter of Adele’s,” she said.

  “Who told you that?” he asked.

  “In case you haven’t been warned before, nothing much happens in this town that doesn’t get spread around.”

  He chuckled. “I guess that’s one reason to go somewhere else.”

  “No place is perfect,” she said. “You just have to find the place where you belong.”

  And if he didn’t belong anywhere?

  She cleared her throat. “My husband proposed a week after he met me.”

  He gave her a suspicious look. “And you’re trying to tell me...what?”

  “It doesn’t always take months to know when you’ve met someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

  That didn’t make Rex’s decisions any easier. He couldn’t stay here, and he couldn’t take Eve away from Whiskey Creek. Not even if she’d go. What could he offer her? Who would run the inn? And what if something happened to her—or the baby—despite his best efforts to protect them? How would he live with himself?

  He was just trying to figure out a good way to explain why he had to leave when a car came down the street.

  He stood the moment he spotted the lights. This was a quiet road that saw very little traffic, especially so late. He grew even more concerned when that same car—a sedan—parked out front.

  Was this going to be a repeat of what had happened in San Francisco?

  “Were you expecting company?” He couldn’t think of a single way The Crew could have traced him here, but the last thing he wanted was to put Mrs. Higgins or anyone else in Whiskey Creek in danger.

  “No,” she said. “I’m not sure who that could be, coming here so late. Good Lord, it’s after one!”

  “In the back. Hurry. And stay away from the windows.” He started to go for his gun, which was in the bedroom. But the driver opened his door before Rex could take two steps and, because of the interior light, he recognized the man getting out.

  * * *

  Eve rubbed sweaty palms on her jeans as she waited at Ted’s place for Ted to return with Rex. When those members of The Crew showed up at her inn, she hadn’t known where else to go, who else to turn to. She couldn’t call the police. The men who were looking for Rex hadn’t done anything wrong—at least that she could prove. Yet. And she’d feared that if she went straight to Rex, he’d leave immediately, to make sure no one got hurt, and she’d never see him again.

  Even with what she and her friends had planned, she knew he’d still have to go. But if they could pull it off, he’d finally be able to outdistance the past.

  “Would you like a cup?” Sophia called, interrupting her thoughts.

  After she and Ted had hung up with Kyle, and Ted had left, Sophia had gone into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. But Eve didn’t need any coffee.

  She went to the kitchen door so she wouldn’t have to raise her voice. She didn’t want to wake Alexa, who was, presumably, sleeping in the upstairs bedroom they’d added after they were married. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  Sophia gave her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m glad you came here. You know Ted. He’ll do all he can to help.”

  Eve would’ve gone to Dylan instead. He was another person who could solve just about any problem. But Kellan had been born so recently. Dylan deserved to enjoy his son’s first days unmolested by her and her problems.

  Besides, Ted had a different set of skills and resources. She doubted Dylan would have suggested the same solution, and she believed what they’d hit upon could really work—with Kyle’s help.

  “I wouldn’t have bothered you this late if it wasn’t so serious,” she said.

  “I know.” Sophia got three mugs from the cupboard.

  The minutes seemed to drag. Would Rex even get in the car with Ted? Or, after their encounter at Victorian Days, was he already on his way out of town?

  When Sophia’s phone buzzed on the counter, Eve held her breath.

  “Hello?” Sophia looked at her while she talked and Eve could tell by the tone of her voice that it was her husband. “You did?...Good....I’ve got some coffee ready....See you in a few minutes.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “Kyle’s on his way over.”

  “And does Ted have Rex?”

  “Yes. They’re coming, too.”

  Eve let her breath out slowly. That meant they would at least have a chance to explain what they’d devised.

  But would he go along with it?


  He’d be crazy not to, she told herself.

  “I hope we won’t disturb Alexa,” she said. “It’s bad enough that I barged in on you guys.”

  Sophia laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. An earthquake wouldn’t wake Alexa. She sleeps with her iPod on. We can hardly get her out of bed when her alarm’s screaming three feet away. But she’s not home, anyway.”

  “Is she at a friend’s?”

  “No, her grandparents—Skip’s parents—took her to Disney World.”

  “That’s quite a Christmas gift.”

  “You know them. Everything has to be big and splashy, even though they no longer have the money. They promised Alexa this trip, then told us they couldn’t afford to take her. So we had to pay for her flight and their entire hotel stay.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “No. There was no point in sending her if we were only going to upset her first.”

  “She won’t miss Christmas?”

  “Oh, no. She’ll be home on the twenty-third, which is...what?” She checked the calendar on her phone. “Sunday.”

  “I hope she’s having a good time.”

  “Seems to be. She texts me quite often.” Sophia wiped off the counter. “Can I get you a glass of water? Or some wine to help you relax? Wait...never mind. I forgot about the baby. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “No kidding.” Eve shook the tension from her hands. This was such a crazy year. “Anyway, water would be perfect.”

  The doorbell rang as Sophia reached for a glass. “I’ll answer it,” Eve said, and hurried across the living room.

  Kyle stood on the stoop. “Thanks for coming,” she told him. “I appreciate it.”

  His hair was sticking up on one side, proof that she’d hauled him out of bed, too. “If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t do it,” he teased, but she knew that wasn’t the truth. He’d do what he could for any friend.

  “So where’s the ex-con?” he asked when she let him in and he saw that the living room was empty.