Silent Night, Star-Lit Night

by Ruth Logan Herne

  She pulled back. Worry drew her brows together. “We can’t do this.”

  “Too late.”

  “Jed, I—”

  He refused to let her analyze the kiss to death, especially because on a ranking of one to infinity it scored a very Buzz Lightyear “beyond.” “Mia, if ever there was a moment when a pretty girl needed to be kissed and kissed well, it’s this one.” He waved a hand to the surreal beauty surrounding them. “I’m not exactly immune to this setting, and being caught in the storm with you made me think hard about a lot of things.”

  Dismay drew her brows together.

  “I didn’t mean to trap you with that question last night. It was bad timing and stupid and I apologize.”

  She studied him, their breath mingling in tiny clouds of frozen, white air.

  “I put you on the spot because I was concerned, but I should have waited for you to open the topic. Except maybe I was worried you’d never talk about it. Maybe I was worried about what effect that would have on you. And her.” He dropped his gaze to the curve of the baby.

  “How did you know?” She held tight to his gaze, never blinking. “I told no one. It was embarrassing enough to have to deal with Daniel’s cheating on my own. I wasn’t about to have others pity me or pretend to sympathize while they sat around wondering why I couldn’t keep my husband happy.”

  “Oh, honey.” He hugged her then, close and warm in the late-day chill. “Why would you think it’s about you? It’s about him. It’s always been about him, even back in high school. When you married him, I thought he must have changed.”

  He leaned back to see her face, and when she grimaced he drew her in again. “Obviously not.”

  “Well, I was stupid.”

  “Not true.”

  “I forgave too often.”

  “I’ve been in church a lot of times in thirty years. I’m pretty sure there is no such thing. But there is a time for every purpose, for every season. Wanna walk and talk, pretty lady?”

  She looked skeptical at first, then nodded. “That would be nice, actually.”

  He took her hand in his. They started to stroll along the sidewalk, surrounded by holiday warmth and cheer. No one else was out, most likely still targeting the storm’s aftermath, and the solitude made the walk even sweeter. “You kept a brave face for the funeral.”

  “That was before I found out that Daniel had a child with another woman living in the Bay Area. And a mistress in Seattle. And did I mention that his life insurance was left to the woman in the Bay Area and that I would have to sue to get my legally allotted fifty percent per California community property law?”

  “No.” He paused and turned her to face him. “He didn’t do that, did he? Now I really want to beat on him, just to make myself feel better.”

  She glanced away, then up at him. “I went to meet her.”

  “Why?”

  “I needed to see what she had that I didn’t have. What was special about her? Was she prettier? Nicer? Sexier? And before you scoff, let me just say that morning sickness and baggy eyes made me feel quite unsexy for about eight long weeks. I had to know, Jed.”

  He could understand that. And yet . . . “I wish you hadn’t put yourself through that. And alone, besides.”

  “Not alone.” She laid one hand over the swell of the baby. “We went together. And she was surprised to meet me. She had no idea he was married, and she felt terrible. And she offered to give the money back when it came to her; I mean, that’s how nice she was. He’d promised to marry her and the little boy looked just like Daniel. She’d even given him that name and called him Danny-boy.”

  “You didn’t accept the money.”

  “How could I?” She shrugged. “She was a waitress at a diner. The little boy was two years old. Raising kids is expensive, and I realized that I wasn’t afraid to take care of this baby on my own because in a way I’ve been on my own forever. And I was absolutely certain I didn’t want that kind of experience for my daughter, so I wished the woman well and walked away.”

  “That took courage.”

  She paused, gazing over the town. “And humility. Anyway, that’s the story. I had six more months on my lease, and Daniel’s military benefit would come to me, enough to give baby and me a fresh start. I figured now would be the best time to make changes, but then I heard about Grandpa and knew I had to come north.” She squeezed Jed’s hand lightly. “Thank you so much for listening to your mom and Auntie P. What would I have done if I’d headed into that storm alone?”

  “You’d have done fine,” he told her, and squeezed right back. “You’ve done fine all along. This trip wouldn’t have been any different.”

  A tiny smile of appreciation softened her jaw. “Thank you.”

  “You hungry?”

  She paused again, looking around. “I am, actually. Starved.”

  “Are they all set in the shelter?”

  “Jude and the kids are back in their house with everything up and running and the last three people were heading home in the morning when the roads north are fully open, so Reggie sent me on my way.”

  “Then, Mia O’Loughlin.” He tucked her arm through his and turned back toward the inn. “Since it’s just us again, Angel’s invited us to share supper with her at the inn again. And it is our last night here.”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  He hoped that wistful note in her voice meant something, but he’d learned a good lesson the night before and didn’t press. He helped her down the curb to cross the road and then up the other side. “You’ll be in Roslyn for Christmas, and I’d like to make sure we spend some of Christmas together, depending on Grandpa Joe’s condition. If you wouldn’t mind having some fresh eggnog with an old friend who kisses really well.”

  Her cheeks had been pink from the cold, but his words drove the blush deeper. “It was a beautiful kiss, Jed.”

  “Glad you liked it.” He moved forward to open the inn door once they’d climbed the steps, but Angel surprised them by stepping outside with a camera.

  “Perfect timing.”

  “Is it?” Jed looked at her, then Mia, wondering what Angel meant.

  Angel stepped quickly toward the broad front stairs. “You two have been wonderful to have here during a crisis. You went all in, and not everyone would do that.” She waggled the small camera. “I want to do an online scrapbook of our blizzard for the Web page, so if you would just come back down the steps so I can get you, the star, and the inn in a shot that would be marvelous!” She half-sang the last word, and Jed was pretty sure no one refused to do Angel’s bidding.

  “Glad to oblige.”

  “Make sure that’s a wide-angle lens,” Mia quipped.

  “Won’t need it if we do this,” Jed replied. He stood behind her on the broad step and slipped his hands around her middle, resting them lightly on the baby curve, then laid his chin against her hair. “How’s that, Mia?”

  * * *

  How was that?

  The feeling of Jed being kind, looking out for her, holding her, kissing her . . .

  Beautiful. Special. Amazing. And absolutely unbelievable, so she was pretty sure when he had a day or two back in the busyness of Roslyn with skinny girls in cute sweaters, the shimmer of romance in the snow would melt to stark reality of swollen ankles and stretch marks. But for now, it was delightful. She tipped her head back and caught his gaze. “Perfect, Jed.”

  He smiled at her, leaned down, and touched his lips to hers in the gentlest of gentle kisses. “Good.”

  “Got it!”

  “You got us kissing?”

  “Excellent,” Jed declared.

  “I think so, too,” said Angel as she dashed back up the steps. “And I’ve done an old family specialty for your supper. I hope you don’t mind that I took it upon myself to assume you’d be eating here, with half the shops still closed up.”

  “It came down to you or Hoagie’s Deli, and Angel, when it comes to a choice between the two, well . . .”
Jed flashed her the smile that all of Roslyn knew and loved. “There is no choice.”

  “Oh, you!” Angel flapped her Christmas apron at him and hurried away.

  Lorrie had just finished setting the table, and when she hit the switch for the Christmas lights the entire front of the inn took on a holiday glow. One little light glowed especially sweet, and Mia crossed the room to the beautiful Nativity set and pointed to the lit star above, a miniature of the inn’s star. “This is new.”

  “It was broken,” Lorrie explained. “We had old Tom Smith make us a new one, he’s that good with things even though he’s kissing eighty years come March, and he brought it by today once things started settling down. This was the family’s Nativity set back in the day, and the star above was modeled after this one. It’s over seventy years old, and every year we set it out with love.”

  Mia’s throat went tight.

  Her palms grew damp.

  “Oh, now you’ve done it.”

  Jed moved closer and settled firm hands on her shoulders. “Between the hormones and the holiday, it doesn’t take much to make her cry, Lorrie.”

  “I’m not crying. I’m close to crying. There’s a difference.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry.” Lorrie looked truly distraught. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I thought it was going to upset you! I should learn to just be quiet.”

  “Lorrie, I’m fine. Just tired and emotional and very, very pregnant. You’ve got kids, right?”

  Lorrie nodded.

  “So you understand.”

  “I sure do. And it is nice to have old things and new around, isn’t it?”

  It was, but the thought that the family had taken such care to do things together, to build and take care of the sprawling old house, to keep a Nativity set through three generations . . .

  That was the dream Mia had longed for all her life. A family united by true love, a dream that eluded her still.

  Angel bustled through the swinging door. Jed drew out a chair for her and settled in the one next to her for dinner, as if being close to her meant something special.

  Was she silly to think that?

  One smile from him said she wasn’t, and by the time they’d finished dinner with Angel and Lorrie and called it a night, she went to bed quite differently than she had the night before. No tears wet her pillow, and when she stretched out and gave her baby girl room to move, even the antics of the nearly born baby weren’t enough to keep her awake.

  Chapter Ten

  December 22, Roslyn, Washington

  Jed pulled into the parking lot at the assisted living center in Roslyn late the next morning. He parked and came around the front of the car quickly. “Grab my arm; there’s black ice here.”

  Mia looked down and did as he asked. “I wouldn’t have noticed, Jed. I haven’t seen black ice in a long time and I probably would have gone sailing with my first step. Thank you.”

  “A cowboy’s pleasure, pretty lady.”

  His words pleased her, but as she looked up, her expression darkened. Jed followed her gaze and sighed inside. Her father was lounging against the outside post of the building, smoking a cigarette, staining the clean white snow with gray ash. “You made it.”

  He said it in a dry voice, and Jed got a clearer view of what life must have been like growing up in his dark, dingy apartment. Jed clung tighter to her arm in a show of quiet support as they moved forward.

  “He’s sleeping,” Ray went on. “They just kicked me out to let him rest.”

  Mia didn’t pause to acknowledge Ray. She purposely kept moving forward.

  “They said he can’t have no visitors right now, but suit yourself, I guess.”

  Jed had been needing to punch Daniel for deliberately hurting a wonderful woman, but Daniel wasn’t available. Her father was, which made him dangerously close to being a target, but when Jed turned, the regret he read on Ray Folsom’s face made him pause.

  Mia squeezed Jed’s arm with her other hand. “Ignore him,” she said softly, her voice resigned. “It’s not worth the time, because it won’t change anything.”

  She might be right.

  He understood that.

  And a part of him still wanted to deck the guy for years of neglect, but he’d read grief in the older man’s face as Mia strode by without so much as a glance his way.

  He’d missed his daughter. It was a little late for that, Jed figured, but he knew what he saw.

  He held the outer door for her, then the interior door. She moved across the lobby with confidence. That made him proud of her. She’d turned out marvelously normal, despite childhood loss and dealing with her father on a daily basis. She stopped at the desk and gave Joe’s name.

  “Are you his granddaughter?” The receptionist sounded excited.

  “I am.”

  “That’s wonderful! He’s been waiting for you. Asking for you. We had to explain about the storm again and again, but he’s held on, determined to see you. Oh, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you made it. Celia?”

  A woman in blue scrubs crossed from the far hall. “Yes?”

  “This is Joe’s granddaughter.”

  “Well, saints be praised, come with me, girl.” Celia started moving down the north wing at a quick clip. “He’s going to be so happy to see his grand-girly—that’s what he calls you when he’s talking with us, and what a sweet phrase it is. And look at you; when is this baby due?”

  Mia’s always protective hand went right to her baby bump. “Next week.”

  “Oh, and you looking that lovely and marvelous is a wonderful thing. Here’s his room.”

  “Is he sleeping?”

  “Honey, he sleeps on and off all the time, but if you’re referring to his son-in-law that keeps coming around, waiting for us to sign the death certificate, then yes. He’s sleeping and can’t have company. But you can stay as long as you want. We can wheel in a nice cot for overnight if you’d like to sit vigil with him, and if you need food, just let us know.” She touched Mia’s arm before she opened the door. “It won’t be a long vigil, I’m sorry to say.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, then.” Celia smiled softly and eased open the door. “Joseph, look who’s made it through one of the worst storms this century to come see you! That pretty granddaughter of yours has arrived!”

  It took a minute for her words to register a reaction.

  Joe’s forehead drew tight. He blinked once, then twice, and it seemed a struggle to pull his eyes open, but when he did—when he spotted Mia—his thin face drew into one of the happiest smiles Jed had ever seen. “Hey.” He tried to lift one hand, but the effort fell short and made him pull for air. “My girl. My girly. You came.”

  “Oh, Grandpa, of course I did.” She moved forward quickly and hugged him. “I should have come sooner. I should have been here. I should have—”

  “None of that.” Joe pretended to scowl when she drew back, and he reached up one hand to her pretty face. “I taught you to spread your wings and fly.” He stopped talking to grab for breath in a true struggle. “That’s what you did. Exactly what I wanted you to do, to get as far away from the crazy as you could.” His forehead furrowed.

  “But I should have come back more often.”

  “You came now, in time to say good-bye.”

  Tears streaked her cheeks, and one single tear snaked a path down Joe’s left cheek. “I’ve made a will, girly.”

  “Grandpa, don’t.”

  “It’s important.” He paused for a breath that wouldn’t come. His face reflected the internal struggle.

  “Grandpa, I’ll read it later. And I’ll do exactly what it says, I promise.”

  “Lord-a-mercy, I missed you.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  “You promise me, you hear? When the time comes, I’ve made arrangements. I want you and this baby cared for.”

  “Shh.” Mia leaned forward and hugged him again, then sat back and
took his hand. “I promise. And you need to stop talking and rest, okay? I’ll sit right here and hold your hand.”

  “You won’t let go?”

  “I will not.”

  Her words relaxed him. He sank back against the pillow. His breathing leveled. His eyes closed. And Mia sat by his side, holding his thin-skinned hand in hers. When he fell asleep, she looked up at Jed. “Go see your family. Calm down Uncle Pete. And if your mom baked any Christmas cookies, I’d love to have you stop by with some.”

  “Better yet.” He squatted beside her. “When you leave here, come stay at my parents’ house. There’s plenty of room and there’s no reason for you to stay in a hotel, Mia. That would be silly.”

  “Jed, I—”

  He kissed her lightly. Sweetly. Tenderly. “Please?”

  She sighed and smiled, then raised one hand to his face. “That would be really nice.”

  He thought so, too. And maybe he thought that if she got a taste of what life was like surrounded by a loving family, she wouldn’t be in a hurry to leave.

  He pocketed her keys and strode outside, determined to ignore her father or maybe hit him . . . but he was gone, with nothing but ash-strewn snow marking his presence.

  Jed drove home, informed his mother that Mia might be coming to stay, changed, and went straight to the store.

  Pete spotted him as he strode through the door. His uncle rolled Jed’s way, disgruntled as always. “You finally decided to come back to work? Is this the way you’re going to run the business when I’m gone? Run it right into the ground, most likely. No one leaves a retail store during Christmas week, and I don’t care what your mother said, she’s not running things around here. I am. And furthermore—”

  Pete paused when Jed held up a hand. “Stop.”

  “Don’t you tell me—”

  “Uncle Pete.” He kept his voice calm, with just enough edge to make his point. “You need to get control of yourself. I’m not your underling, I’m your partner, and in case you’ve forgotten, there’s a lot at stake for us to get along.”

  “Are you threatening me, Jed?” Pete didn’t look just angry. He looked downright furious.

  Jed squatted low to even the playing field with his wheelchair-bound uncle. “I’m not about to spend any more time being yelled at or ridiculed by anyone. You stepped up when Dad passed away, and it should have been a good thing, but it’s not. You’re stubborn and antagonistic and you’re costing us business. Now either put a happy smile on your face and be nice, or retire. The other option is that Mom and I will sell our thirds of the business and the whole thing will go on the auction block. Starting today there will be no more yelling, cursing, or being downright ornery. And now, if you’ll excuse me.” He stood upright and faced the busy aisles. “I’ve got work to do.”