“You know I’m dying to ask,” Sophie said.
“Long story.” Kade wadded a paper napkin and tossed it on the plate. “Ready, Davey?”
Davey slid the leftover pizza and bread sticks into the takeout box and made a petting motion with one hand.
“For Sheba,” Sophie interpreted. She reached for the check, but a strong hand trapped hers on the table. “My treat.”
The quiet insistence warmed her. Here was a man whose pride might suffer if she said no. “Okay. Thank you.”
Still, he didn’t remove his hand and she began to notice the subtle differences in his skin and hers, the long length of his fingers, the leashed strength.
A flutter tickled beneath her ribs. She lifted her gaze to his.
“I should go,” she said softly. Regretfully. “Practice.”
“Right.” He freed her hand, flexed his once before snatching up the check. “What time?”
“You’re coming?” She sounded like a ten-year-old elated over a trip to Disney World.
“Davey,” he said, pushing up from the padded seat. “He can go.”
“I was hoping you’d reconsidered. The pageant is wonderful, Kade. I promise you’ll feel more Christmas spirit if you attend.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. He needed to get involved. She was sure of it.
“Not this time. Sorry.”
Her optimistic spirit soared. Not this time could only mean one thing: there was still a chance, and if anyone in town needed a little Christmas spirit this year, it was Kade McKendrick and the mute child he’d taken under his wing.
Chapter Eight
“Who spit in your sandbox?”
Kade slouched in front of the laptop, jabbing keys with enough force to jiggle the table. Ida June stood with one hand on her hip and a chocolate-chip cookie in the other.
Davey was fast asleep, exhausted from his day at school and the excitement of whatever he’d been doing with Sophie.
Ida June poked at his shoulder. “GI Jack saw you eating pizza with Sophie B. You after that girl?”
Sophie. The woman was giving him no peace. Just like his great-aunt.
“Strictly professional.”
Ida June made a rude noise. “I didn’t think my sister’s daughter would raise such a stupid child. ‘Who can find a virtuous woman? Her price is above rubies.’”
“I don’t think Sophie’s for sale, rubies or not. She’s all about cookies.”
Ida June whacked his shoulder. Cookie crumbs scattered down his shirt. “I’m gonna have to call your mama, boy.”
“Tell her I love her.”
“Tell her yourself.” She slapped a cookie on the table beside him.
Kade closed the laptop with a snap and took up the cookie. No use trying to work with Ida June on him. He’d call his mother in his own good time, when he was ready to give her something besides bad news about her son.
“How was work on the stable?” he asked.
“Slow. I need you back out there tomorrow.”
“I can give you a couple of hours.” The rest of his hours, both day and night, would be focused on solving this case.
“And then?” The metal chair legs scraped against linoleum as Ida June perched across from him. She stacked three more fat cookies in front of her. “You got any leads on our little guest?”
He sighed in frustration. “None.”
“You will. It’s early yet.”
Much as he appreciated her confidence, he wasn’t so sure. “It’s as if he fell from the sky.”
“Well, maybe he did.” She pointed half a cookie at him. Melted chocolate oozed out in a thick glob. “Miracles happened at Christmas.”
Kade squinted at her. “You been in the eggnog, Auntie?”
Ida June slapped the table and cackled. “Life is sure perky since you moved in.”
“Yeah, I’m a barrel of entertainment.”
“You’ll be happier when you get involved.”
His great-aunt was pushier than his shrink—a shrink he hadn’t called since Davey entered his life. He hoped the agency didn’t send out the guys in white jackets to see if he’d offed himself.
There was no use denying his unhappiness to Ida June. She was in on the conspiracy to get him out of Chicago, though like his family, she didn’t know the complete story. Even his supervisors had only part of the picture. Fine with him. If he let his mind go there, to what he’d seen and done in the name of justice, he’d be a dead man.
For a while he had been. Then a blue-eyed boy with no voice had given him a reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes the voices in his head said he was trying to make amends, but he knew he couldn’t. Not ever.
“I am involved.” When Ida June lifted an eyebrow, he went on. “With Davey. He matters.” The words sounded angry.
“No argument from me. But he’s a child and children need Christmas.” His aunt patted the back of his hand with her leathery fingers and rose to rummage around in the kitchen cabinet. “Wherever he came from, whether good or bad, Davey has to be full of heartache. If he’s lost from his family, he misses them terribly. If something else—” she paused, drew a breath, the wrinkles in her white forehead gathering in concern “—well, all the more reason for him to grieve.”
Kade leaned back in the chair to study his aunt. She was eccentric but also wise. “What are you saying?”
“Keep him busy. Redemption is a loving place at Christmas.”
“Sophie’s taking him to some pageant thing tonight.” His belly started to hurt. He shouldn’t have eaten the cookie.
“Good. You go, too.”
He wished for an antacid. Or anesthesia. “I’ll pass.”
Ida June snapped around with a glare. A cabinet door banged shut. “Not and live in my house, you won’t.”
Or maybe a quick poison. “Blackmail, Ida June?”
She gave him a spunky little grin, like a possum. “Your choice, nephew. You could move elsewhere, but think about Davey. He’s just now settling in.”
Kade rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Sure, she was wise, but she was also pushy. He didn’t do Christmas. Why couldn’t the females in his life get that through their heads?
His own thoughts circled around to replay. Was Sophie part of his life now? Did he want her to be? The better question was, could he allow her into a life as messed up and confused as his?
“What do you want me to do?” he growled.
“When Sophie B. shows up to get Davey boy, you just pack yourself right on out the door with her.”
“You go. Christmas doesn’t interest me.” Maybe he should record the announcement for playback at the appropriate moment.
“You’re going to deny that poor child in there a little holiday happiness?”
Kade clasped his hands over the back of his head and stared at the ceiling in exasperation. Ida June would not back down. She would not give up. At this juncture, he hadn’t the inner reserves to fight her. “All right, I’ll go, but that’s it. Don’t ask me to do more.”
“Ask her to help you put up a tree, too.”
His hands dropped to his sides. “Didn’t you hear a word I said?”
She leveled an index finger at his nose and ignored the protest. “A real tree, too. Not one of those plastic things.”
He glowered, hoping to shut her up. He didn’t.
“She’s a sweetheart, our Sophie B.,” Ida June said merrily. “A man couldn’t do much better.”
Mt. Vesuvius churned to a boil. “I agreed to a Christmas tree for Davey. Leave Sophie out of this.”
“You don’t think Sophie’s pretty?”
Ah, man.
“She’s beautiful. And kind and good.” All the things he wasn’t.
She also lingered in his head like a sweet fragrance, a song he couldn’t stop humming. Being around her eased his conscience, calmed the churning in his belly and in his soul.
He dropped his head to his hands and rubbed his
eyes, tormented and confused. He had no business getting involved with Sophie. But he wanted to more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. So much so that he was tempted to pray. Not that God would listen.
Ida June lightly touched his shoulder and when he didn’t look up, she gave him two gentle pats before padding softly from the room.
* * *
Davey was a shepherd boy.
A swell of maternal pride rose in Sophie as the towheaded child, along with several others, tried on various robes and headpieces in pursuit of an appropriate costume for the Journey to Bethlehem parade.
They were inside the community center two blocks from the center of town. Dozens had gathered in the wide space for the meeting, some wanting character or singing parts, but most, like Sophie, taking on tasks behind the scenes. The majority of character parts were played by adults, but they’d made an exception for Davey and a few other children. Davey’s expressive face was alive with excited pride at being chosen.
Standing next to Sophie, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, Kade murmured, “You must have pulled some strings.”
“I might have put in a word with the director,” she admitted, grinning up into his face. She was still surprised to find Kade here after his earlier refusal.
“How did you get Sheba in on the act?” Kade hitched his chin toward the big dog sitting patiently while Davey placed a halo around her ears and tied angel wings over her back. Catching the adults’ attention, Davey pointed at the retriever and laughed his silent laugh.
“Sheba doesn’t seem to mind, does she?” Sophie asked.
“She’s crazy about him.”
“So am I,” Sophie admitted.
“I know what you mean. As if he’s always been here.” And then, half to himself he added, “Wonder why that is.”
Since the moment Kade had appeared at Ida June’s wreath-laden door behind a spotless, eager Davey, Sophie had had butterflies in her stomach. A few hours ago, they’d been having pizza and getting better acquainted, but she felt as though she’d known him much longer than a few jam-packed days. In reality, she didn’t know him at all, but there was something, some indefinable pull between them.
Maybe their mutual love for a lost little boy had connected their hearts.
“Christmas is about a child,” she said. “Maybe God sent him.”
One corner of Kade’s mouth twisted. “Now you sound like my great-aunt.”
“She’s a very smart lady.”
“More than I realized,” he said softly, a hint of humor and mystery in the words. “A good woman is worth more than rubies.”
“What?” Sophie tilted her head, puzzled. Even though she recognized the proverb, she wasn’t quite sure where it fit into the conversation.
“Something Ida June said.”
“Ida June and her proverbs.” Sophie smiled up at him. “What brought that one on?”
Kade was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady on hers. He gently brushed a strand of hair from the shoulder of her sweater, an innocent gesture that, like a cupid’s arrow, went straight to her heart.
“You,” he said at last.
Sophie’s heart stuttered. Although she didn’t quite get what he meant or why he was looking at her so strangely, a mood, strong and fascinating, shimmered in the air.
Their eyes held, a kind of seeking for answers neither of them had. All Sophie had were questions she couldn’t ask. So far, every time she’d approached the topic of his life in Chicago, Kade had closed in on upon himself and locked her out.
A good woman above rubies, he’d said. Had he meant her?
“Sophie!” Someone called her name from the other side of the room. She startled. Kade’s fingertips skimmed down her arm, steadied her and brought her back to the large, noisy room. Then, he stepped away and broke the curious mood. But for a heartbeat of time, the festive noise of Christmas had faded into the background. And they had connected.
Had Kade felt it, too? Or was Sophie in danger of becoming one of those single women who imagined herself in love with every man five minutes after they met?
No, she wasn’t imagining anything.
Something deep and elemental had stirred when Kade McKendrick looked into her eyes.
Flummoxed, face warm enough to blush, she forced a light laugh. “Better get busy before they fire me.”
The cynical curl of lips returned and pushed her away again. “What’s your part in all this?”
“Refreshments.”
She hoped no one had noticed her staring at Kade like a lovesick teenager. She wasn’t a teen and she wasn’t lovesick. She was…something.
Sophie swallowed down the crazy stir of confusion. “I’m in charge of concessions. Along with some great volunteers, fifth grade sells cookies, coffee and hot chocolate during the event.”
Was her voice as strained and tinny as she thought?
If it was, Kade didn’t let on. Or he didn’t notice. “Cookies,” he said, amused. “I should have guessed.”
Sophie’s tension evaporated. Cookies had a way of calming anyone.
“So,” she asked. “Which job do you want?”
He drew back, frowning. “Me?”
“You’re here.” She raised both palms. “This is a meeting of volunteers.”
“I’m with Davey.” He jerked a thumb toward the child, who was now shoving his skinny arms into an oversize brown robe.
“Coward.” She made a teasing face.
His scowl deepened. “Don’t push me, lady.”
She gave his shoulder a playful shove. He growled and bared his teeth. Sophie wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She laughed. So did Kade.
The sound shot straight to her center and settled like a melody. Happy and light.
Davey heard it, too, and flapped a hand engulfed by a too-long sleeve in their direction.
“Better rescue our boy,” Kade said.
Sophie nodded, caught on that one troubling, inadvertent turn of phrase. Our boy. He’d meant nothing by it, of course. It was simply a light and easy term of endearment.
But suddenly Sophie couldn’t get the phrase out of her head. She’d always planned to have children someday.
What would it be like to say “our boy” to Kade and really mean it?
* * *
The next week passed in a blur as Sophie taught school, ran the cookie project and volunteered for every Christmas event Redemption had to offer. And there were plenty. When he’d cooperate, Kade came along. He came because of Davey’s involvement and perhaps because of Ida June’s pushiness, but knowing she wasn’t the reason didn’t stop Sophie’s pulse from jumping or her smile from widening.
Her friends had started to tease her about the time she spent with Ida June’s mysterious nephew. Even her father noticed and asked what was going on. All she could honestly say was that she and Kade shared a mutual concern for Davey. And if they spent more and more time together because of the lost little child, what harm was there in that?
Kade was frustrated to the point of fury over the lack of progress in Davey’s case. He blamed himself, though Sophie didn’t understand why. When she’d asked, she’d gotten one of his black silences in reply. He’d made an early escape that night, too, now that she thought about it. The “why” in Kade’s life was one of his hot buttons. Press for details, and he withdrew.
Sophie considered pumping Ida June about her nephew’s mercurial moods, but that seemed so junior high. If Kade wanted Sophie to know about his past, good or bad, he’d tell her.
Yet, she suspected something bad had gone down, either professionally or personally. Something bad enough to leave him wary of letting others close.
On this particular night, with the crisp December air clear enough to see the stars like a billion diamonds against black velvet, Sophie slapped her gloved hands together for warmth and stood outside a makeshift concession kiosk. The Journey to Bethlehem procession wound in slow, stately fashion toward Town Square.
Altho
ugh her toes tingled from the cold, Sophie’s whole body warmed with pleasure at the sight of a very serious and proud Davey following the procession. Brown shepherd’s robe flowing, he kept one hand on the shepherd’s crook and the other on Sheba.
Beside Sophie, Kade snapped photos with her digital camera and made pithy comments that reminded her of his great-aunt.
He gave a thumbs-up as Davey passed.
A quick smile of half-grown teeth flashed in reply. Kade snapped another photo.
Watching the interaction between boy and man touched Sophie. She saw the exchange of glances, the silent communication. She noticed, too, the hero worship in Davey’s eyes and the worry in Kade’s. He was growing to love the little boy, whether he knew it or not.
So was she.
Man and boy. Boy and man.
Davey’s section passed, moving on toward Town Square. Sophie stood on tiptoe, watching until she could no longer see Davey’s brown striped headpiece.
Kade lowered the camera and asked, “Can you take a break from the concession?”
She’d been working the booth since the town began filling with people two hours ago. Her toes were numb and her nose was as red as her sweater, but she’d sold plenty of cookies with her fifth graders and their moms.
“My shift is over. From the looks of the crowd, people are focused on the parade now. The rush will come afterward.”
He hooked a hand around her elbow. “Good. Let’s go.”
A local church choir began to sing “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful,” a fitting song for the entourage moving in a steady stream down Grace Street. Sophie fell in step next to Kade, glad for his grip on her arm in the thick crowd.
Along the route, they passed vignettes of actors: Joseph and the expectant Mary, the shepherds in the field, the heavenly host of angels, the search for a room, all ending in the crude stable Ida June and Kade had erected at Town Square.
Music swelled the night air and filled downtown with the wonder and beauty of that first Christmas. Goose bumps prickled Sophie’s arms, though not from the cold. To her, this night and the retelling of the birth of Christ was the most special of all Redemption’s Christmas celebrations.
A Child's Christmas Boxed Set: Sugarplum HomecomingThe Christmas ChildA Season For Grace Page 28
