A teenage vendor in knickers with a box hung around his neck ventured past.
“Hot peanuts,” he called. “One dollar. Get your hot peanuts.”
Kade fished in his pocket for a dollar and bought a bag, more for the experience and the warmth than the peanuts. And to see Sophie smile.
“You love this stuff, don’t you?” Kade asked, handing her the warm bag.
Sophie’s face, rosy from the cold, turned upward. “Peanuts or the walk?”
“All of it.”
“Yes,” she said, happily hugging herself. “I love it.”
With a catch in his chest, Kade gazed down into her lovely eyes and thought of how much he’d miss her if—no, when—he returned to Chicago.
He’d expected the pull toward home to increase with the boredom of living in a small community. It hadn’t.
He found her free hand and tucked it into his. Even in the fluffy, lined gloves, her fingers felt small and slender and feminine. A man could be a man with Sophie.
This was a dangerous thought, but tonight was all about pretend. Tomorrow was soon enough to remember all the reasons he didn’t belong here with someone like Sophie.
“Is that who I think it is?” Sophie asked when they’d gone barely a block.
An old-time lawman in long, Wyatt Earp duster and black hat strode toward them from the other end of the street, his spurs jingling. Kade blinked in amusement.
“Chief Rainmaker?” he asked when the man approached.
The normally smooth-shaven Jesse tweaked a fake handle bar mustache. “I’m under here. What do you think?”
Kade didn’t say what he was thinking. That the look was completely out of character for the staid, professional officer of the court. And he doubted a real criminal would take him seriously.
Sophie spoke up, beaming. “I like it, Jesse.”
“Let’s hope no one calls me out at high noon for a gunfight. My speed’s a little rusty.”
Kade had been to the shooting range with the chief. He might not be fast, but he was deadly. For a small-town cop, Jesse was first-rate.
“Did you get my email?” Kade asked.
“Haven’t had time today. You find something?”
“A few leads. I think you’re right, but I’ll need more time to investigate.”
Sophie lifted curious eyes to his. “Are you working for the police department on other cases?”
“I’ve convinced him to use his handy computer skills to chase down some information we need,” Rainmaker told her. “I hate computers.”
“Kade is wonderful at that kind of thing. Just look at the way he found Davey’s mother.”
The familiar regret tugged at him. “For all the good I accomplished.”
Sophie squeezed his hand. “You gave him closure. That’s a lot.”
“My office could use someone with his investigative skills and clearances,” the chief said. “We’re understaffed and underfunded, but I could squeeze some money out of the budget for a man like Kade.”
Kade shifted uncomfortably. He was doing Jesse a favor and feeling useful at the same time. But he wasn’t working. Not really. Not yet.
The idea of joining a small-town force had him wondering if he was ready to get back in the game. Finding Davey’s mother dead had been a blow, but in the end he’d felt better instead of worse. Granted, he’d phoned his shrink to talk things over. The first time in weeks. The shocked doc had made him realize he might be moving forward again.
Come to think of it, he’d slept most of last night and his only dreams had been of Sophie.
He exhaled a vapor cloud. Small-town life was supposed to be simpler, but things were getting more complicated by the minute.
At least for him.
* * *
Sophie crunched a salty peanut shell with her front teeth. All the heat had dissipated from the small paper bag, but Kade’s gesture continued to warm her heart. He was different tonight. Relaxed and almost happy. The Christmas spirit had overtaken him. How could anyone roam the festive streets of Redemption without being drawn into the mood?
She was always happy at Christmas, although she credited being with Kade for tonight’s extra burst of joy. She was in love, and regardless of the outcome, she would enjoy their time together.
She wondered at his reaction to Chief Rainmaker’s offer. He’d gone quiet, thoughtful. Was there a chance he’d remain in Redemption?
A horse-drawn carriage clip-clopped to a stop next to the sidewalk and a man climbed out. He reached back for the bustle-clad woman still inside. The woman laughed, threw her arms out wide and fell into the man’s embrace. He whirled her around in a circle before setting her feet on the sidewalk for a lingering kiss.
Sophie averted her gaze, pinched by uncharacteristic envy. She wanted to be loved.
A strong hand tugged at her elbow. “Let’s take the carriage home.”
She pivoted toward him. “But your car is here.”
“I can come back for it.”
Excitement fluttered. She wanted to. Badly. “It’s not too sensible, but…”
The corners of his mouth quivered. With eyes narrowed and a tad ornery, he said, “Live dangerously, Sophie. Ride with me.”
Her stomach nosedived. Live dangerously? He was teasing, she knew. The only danger when she was with him was from her own heart.
While she waited in anticipation, he spoke to the driver, handed over some bills and opened the carriage door. When Sophie started to climb inside, his hands came around her waist and he lifted her easily onto the step. She felt light and delicate and protected.
She scooted to the far side of the bench seat and Kade climbed in beside her. After straightening the heavy throw over their laps, all the while fighting down her billowy dress and making her giggle in the process, he tapped on the roof of the carriage. With a jingle of bells, the horse smoothly moved forward.
“How did women manage with all that?” He pushed again, playfully, at her voluminous skirts.
Sophie laughed softly. “I’m glad I’ll never have to find out.”
“I thought you liked dressing up.”
“I do. For one night a year. Every day would be a chore. Do you have any idea the amount of undergarments I have under this dress?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t answer that.”
Kade’s laugh rang out, rich and real. To hear him laugh so freely was worth the slip of the tongue. “I’ll be a gentle man tonight and pretend I’m not thinking about your undergarments. Those layers must have driven men to distraction.”
“Kade!” Heat rushed up the sides of her neck. “Stop!”
He laughed again, dark eyes dancing in the passing glow of streetlamps and Christmas lights. Settling back for the gentle ride, he put an arm around her shoulders and snugged her closer.
“I’ll be good,” he murmured against her ear, his breath warm and enticing, “if you say so.”
“You better,” she said, pulse ticking away in her throat.
His lips grazed her ear and she sighed, snuggling into him. The carriage swayed to the rhythm of hoofbeats on concrete, a melody that matched her happy heart.
Being with Kade felt right in so many ways. Did he feel it, too? Or was he just a man saying sweet things to a gullible woman?
No, she didn’t believe that. Even though he was a man with a man’s feelings, Kade treated her with a respect and tenderness that made her feel more secure than she ever had. They could tease and flirt—and did—but Kade never crossed her invisible line.
As they rolled along, admiring the lights and Santas and Nativity displays, they made small talk. About the celebration. About Davey. About everything except the thing utmost in Sophie’s mind. The two of them.
“Look,” he said, his voice quiet, “it’s snowing.”
Sophie gave a delighted gasp and craned her neck toward the carriage window. “I love snow.”
“How did I guess? Miss Suzy Snowflake, Miss Christmas Eve loves snow. Imagine.�
� But she could tell he liked it, too.
They turned the last corner and headed down the street toward her house. She wished the time would stand still, that this night would never end, that she could spend forever with Kade, snuggled close in this carriage with the snow falling around them.
The carriage rattled into her driveway. A layer of snow, like powdered sugar on cake, sprinkled the dry grass of her front lawn. The rare sprinkling wouldn’t last, would likely be gone by morning, but for tonight nothing could be more perfect.
“Home,” Kade said.
She drew in a long satisfied breath. “I don’t want to get out.”
His gaze caught hers and he nodded. “I know.”
They remained there for long seconds inside the warm carriage that smelled of leather and Kade’s cologne.
She memorized him, the firm plane of his face, the tiny scar on his chin.
She wondered if he knew she loved him. And she was sorely tempted to blurt the words here and now.
Didn’t Dad say loving was always a good thing? Didn’t a person as wonderful as Kade deserve to know he was loved?
The driver opened the carriage door. Frosty wind blew snowflakes inside. “Step easy, Sophie. The concrete is a little icy.”
“I’ve got her,” Kade said.
The driver, a man she’d known since childhood, nodded and stepped aside. “I’ll wait here for you, sir.”
Kade alighted first and reached back for Sophie. She was tempted to leap into his arms the way the woman had done earlier, but considering the damp concrete and the risk of a fall, she refrained. Instead, she leaned forward and was thrilled when Kade grasped her waist and swept her out into his arms and against his chest.
“I saw that in a movie once,” he said, grinning down into her face. “Always wanted to try it.”
She giggled, hesitant to turn loose of his strong shoulders. “What did you think?”
“I think the old days had something on us modern folks. All these opportunities to hold a pretty girl. Who knew?”
He set her on her feet but didn’t turn her loose. Instead he slid an arm around her waist and led her to the front door. Snow swirled around them like wet feathers.
“This is beautiful,” she said, turning toward him and the falling snow. “Such a perfect ending to a special night.”
“The best I can remember.” His answer made her heart sing.
“Ever?” she asked.
“Ever.” Then he softly kissed her, the cold snow melting on their warm lips.
When the kiss ended, he cupped her cheek and smiled into her eyes. The urge to declare her love rose like a helium balloon, warm and beautiful. When she opened her mouth to say the words, Kade kissed her again.
Bells jingled as the horse in the driveway moved restlessly. With an embarrassed start, Sophie remembered the driver looking on.
“Your carriage awaits,” she said with a soft, breathless laugh.
Kade made a growling sound, but when she shivered, he took her key and unlocked the door. “Good night, Sophie.”
“Good night.” She started inside but stopped and turned. “Kade?”
He was still standing on the porch waiting until she was safely inside. A surge of love and hope welled up inside her.
“Christmas Eve is candlelight service at church. Will you and Davey go with me? It’s such a beautiful, reverent time.”
He blinked as though the question caught him off guard. Slowly, heartbreakingly, he shook his head. “Better not.”
She studied the troubled expression, the struggle going on behind his eyes, and wanted to argue, but a quiet voice inside held her protest in check.
Lips pressed together, the memory of his kiss still lingering, Sophie went inside and closed the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Kade didn’t sleep much that night. Not for the usual reasons, but because of Sophie. Tonight the truth had hit him in the face like a sucker punch. He loved her. He wanted to give her everything a good life had to offer.
The problem was he had nothing good to give.
All she’d asked of him was a church service and he couldn’t even give her that. He was a lot of things but he refused to be a hypocrite. He wouldn’t go inside a church and pretend to pay homage to a God who let bad things happen to little kids.
Flopping over to his side, he jabbed the pillow with his fist. Ida June’s fluffy old couch groaned but didn’t give. The monstrosity was ugly but comfortable enough to sleep on—if a man could sleep. And when he couldn’t, he could slip out the door without disturbing the household.
Tonight he wouldn’t ramble. He’d done enough of that and the bitter weather served as impediment.
Tonight he’d lie here and torture himself with thoughts. He’d hope the ulcer didn’t act up, and if worse came to worse, he’d get up and open the laptop. Criminals didn’t sleep. Why should cops?
He heard the tip-tap of Sheba’s paws and caught the light reflected in her amber eyes as she left Davey’s side to come to the couch. Her wet nose nudged the back of his hand.
Kade flopped again, this time to his back. “Need out, girl?”
The dog dropped to a sit and put her muzzle on his chest. Kade echoed her sigh. She didn’t need outside. She’d come, as she’d done in those awful first weeks after the end of the undercover sting, because she felt her master’s troubled spirit.
Kade rubbed her ears, grateful for the company of a silent friend. Sheba was like Davey in that respect. Gentle and silent.
He groaned again and Sheba shifted anxiously.
Monday, perhaps Davey would get good news from the specialist. Sophie was praying and Kade had his fingers crossed that something could be done for Davey’s voice.
Tuesday, a small boy would bury his mother. Supported by Kade, Sophie, Ida June and a handful of new friends, he’d lay his mother to rest.
The implication twisted Kade in two. No one could ever replace his mother, but Davey needed a family. He shouldn’t be resigned to his mother’s lonely, tragic fate.
The thought of Sophie intruded. Again. She’d been in his mind since the day they’d met, but tonight the romantic carriage ride had gotten to him. She had gotten to him. After he’d watched her enter the snug little house and heard the lock click into place, he’d walked through snowflakes to the carriage and thought how much like the snow she was. Soft and pretty, rare and pure.
When he reached the carriage, the driver said it all. “It’s a lucky man that’s loved by Sophie B.”
Did she love him? He thought she might. With all his being he wanted to be Sophie’s “lucky man,” but how could he be? He was big-city. She was small-town. He was dark to her light and rain to her sunshine. Sophie had faith while he’d abandoned his during a year of asking where God was when kids were being sold to predators, and facing the ugly truth that he was as much to blame as God. He’d been there and done nothing. Maybe the fault was all his, not God’s.
But still, a Christmas Eve service with all the trappings and Sophie yearning for something from him he couldn’t give.
He just wasn’t ready.
* * *
He was ready, however, bright and early Monday morning for the trip to Oklahoma City. He and Davey, spit-shined, combed and overfed on Ida June’s pancakes, left the house in plenty of time to test conditions of the roads. Along the way, they picked up Sophie, who insisted on going along. Not that he minded one bit, and her presence soothed Davey, who’d expressed some doubt about being poked and prodded by a doctor.
According to the local doc, Davey was headed for something called a laryngoscope to look at his vocal cords. They’d tried to explain to Davey in simple terms, but all they’d managed to do was make him anxious.
Sophie was in her usual merry Christmas mood, not a trace of the disappointment he’d seen on her face Saturday night. With Davey buckled in the backseat, Kade was tempted to reach across the console and hold Sophie’s hand. He didn’t, though. Until he knew where he wa
s headed, he couldn’t involve Sophie in his life any deeper than she already was.
They made small talk about the Victorian Walk and how she wished the snow had stayed, about the cookie project and the upcoming Christmas break from school. They both carefully avoided the subject of Davey’s mother and tomorrow’s funeral, but the event played heavily on Kade’s mind. After the funeral, what happened to Davey then?
By the time they entered the tall, many-storied outpatient clinic, Davey’s quietness had turned to fidgets.
“You’ll be okay, buddy,” Kade said as he took Davey’s hand and led him into the waiting area. “Look, there are other kids here and toys to play with. Look at the size of that truck!”
Davey was having none of it. He clung to Kade’s side and Sophie’s hand, refusing to let go of either. As Davey’s temporary guardian, Kade filled out the appropriate paperwork with the boy clinging to him like a dog tick.
What would the little guy do if Kade didn’t file for guardianship? Who would be there to hold Davey when he was scared?
Over Davey’s head, he questioned Sophie with worried eyes.
“Everything will work out,” she said softly and patted Davey’s back. Kade wished he believed her. Experience had taught him exactly the opposite.
When a scrub-clad nurse called Davey’s name, the trio followed her down an immaculate, antiseptic-scented hallway where Davey was readied for the procedure.
He looked small and scared in the hospital gown. When a nurse came at him with an IV, he screamed, but only breath emerged, a pitifully inadequate sound that left his body rigid and damp with perspiration.
Sophie soothed him as best she could, but in the end, the adults betrayed the child by holding him down. Davey fought, his chest heaving until he realized his struggles were in vain. Then he went limp and lay still and helpless. Kade’s stomach hurt to look at him.
“You’re okay, buddy,” he kept murmuring against Davey’s ear. “This is the worst of it.” He hoped he wasn’t lying.
A tear trickled from Davey to Kade, hot and condemning.
Kade squeezed his eyes tight and tried not to remember other children being hurt by adults. This was for Davey’s good, not for bad.
A Child's Christmas Boxed Set: Sugarplum HomecomingThe Christmas ChildA Season For Grace Page 34
