Katie beamed up at her and wandered to her bookcase. She pulled out one, then put it back. Another out and in, then another. Finally, she came across a pop-up book of The Night Before Christmas. It was a little worse for wear, but Annie Mac couldn’t have picked a better one herself.
“Linney likes trees. There’s one here.” Katie turned to the page where the tree folded out and open.
“I think she’ll love it. Let’s go wrap it up, okay?”
Katie carried it to Annie Mac’s bedroom, where the paper and ribbons were stored. As Annie Mac finished wrapping the book, Ty wandered in. “Louis is real smart. He’s a grade ahead of me, but he’s only ten. So I thought he might like to play chess.” Ty extended a box that contained more than just a chess set. It also had checkers, and she didn’t know what else.
“Maybe you two could play together. What do you think?”
“I’m not very good at chess yet. But I can play checkers.”
“There you go. I bet he’ll really like that.” She handed him a roll of brightly decorated wrapping paper. “Can you handle it?”
“Sure.”
While he was cutting enough paper to wrap three boxes instead of one, Annie Mac opened her bureau drawer. She remembered a lilac colored sweater that was incredibly soft but unworn. She thought Auntie Sim had given it to her, but somehow lilac hadn’t felt like her color. But the child’s? Yes, it would be perfect and probably not too large if they rolled the sleeves once. If the girl liked it, Annie Mac could take it in and hem the sleeves.
She helped Ty fit the game box into one part of the wrapping paper and used the rest to enclose the sweater. After putting ribbons on each, she told her children to finish getting ready while she added a little make-up to her face.
Just in case.
In case of what?
She refused to think about the answer.
The adults were sitting around the Morgans’ living room, enjoying eggnog and chatting, when Clay arrived. Matt let him in, brought him on back, and offered him something to drink. “There’s punch, alcohol free.”
“Thanks. Hey, all.” He grinned around and then focused on Tadie, who was nursing Sammy. “That the heir hiding under that blanket?”
“It’s lunchtime,” Will answered. “Don’t disturb him. The boy takes his mealtimes very seriously.”
“Good appetite?” Clay dipped the ladle in the punch and filled a cup.
“Have you looked at him recently?” Tadie asked. “Chunk-a-munka here eats whatever he finds handy. Food, toys, milk.”
They laughed. “He’s a healthy one,” his Auntie Hannah said. “And a charmer.”
“Where are the kids?” Clay took a seat.
“Upstairs,” Hannah said. “Louis is showing off his new room. Linney and Katie are playing dolls.”
Clay glanced around and caught Annie Mac’s eye for a moment before speaking to the room in general. “Searcher found the man who’d gone after Linney. He broke an ankle when he tripped, then tried to crawl out of the woods. He gave up and pulled pine needles over himself so he wouldn’t freeze.”
“I take it,” Matt said, “he’s incarcerated at the moment?”
“He is, but I’m not sure how long they’ll be able to hold him unless Linney’s capable of identifying him.”
“Oh, no,” Hannah said. “That could traumatize her.”
“It could,” Clay said. “But he ought to pay for what he almost did.” He glanced up the stairs. “We should ask Louis what he thinks she can handle.”
“Those poor children.” Tadie shifted Samuel. The baby sat up and gave everyone a satisfied smile.
Annie Mac smiled back. What a cutie. Sammy would never feel the sort of desperation Louis had—and maybe still did. Or the fear hers had known.
“How’s it going with Linney?” Clay asked Hannah.
“She’s so precious. She wanted Louis to sleep in her bed, but I read to her and then sang to her until she drifted off. She woke once during the night, but that was good, as I was able to get her to the toilet before she wet the diaper.” Hannah brushed at a tear. “I don’t know how that dear boy managed. Father John had it right. He’s about the bravest boy I’ve ever seen.” She shifted to look at Annie Mac. “Yours is, too. You know I adore Ty, but there’s something about a ten-year-old boy taking such care of an older sister. It’s too much. Just breaks my heart.”
“You don’t want to get too attached now,” Clay said. “They might have other kin. You may just have to give them up.”
Hannah shook her head. “I know. I’ve had practice with that, haven’t I?”
And didn’t that just tug at Annie Mac’s heart?
Matt sat down next to his wife and wrapped his arm around her. But he didn’t speak. They all knew Hannah’d faced losses of her own and then had fallen for Ty and Katie. She’d never been able to keep a child, had she? Annie Mac looked up the stairs and then back at Hannah.
God, are Hannah and Matt your answers for those two orphans?
If so, she sure hoped God meant it long term, for everyone’s sake.
The doorbell rang again, this time bringing Agnes and Brisa into the group. How kind Hannah was, including them. Including all of the group. Hannah’d told them Rita and Martin would have been here if they hadn’t been spending the day with her mama and daddy and heading off to church with them in the afternoon.
Hannah waved Brisa upstairs to join the kids and offered Agnes something to drink. Food had been set out on the dining table for anyone to take when they were hungry.
Agnes wouldn’t accept Matt’s place beside Hannah but chose the ottoman near Clay. Hannah asked Tadie something, and Matt and Will started chatting. Annie Mac, standing to fix a plate of snacks, overheard Agnes’s words to Clay.
“I didn’t know Henry’s brother goes to your church.”
“Eric?” Clay asked. “I conned him into going for last night’s program only because he didn’t have any other plans. I think he’s so new to town he feels at loose ends, especially when his brother’s working.” He sipped his punch. “You had last night off?”
“Because of Brisa. She was thrilled to be in the pageant.”
“That’s one gorgeous girl you’ve got there, Agnes,” Annie Mac said on her way back to her seat.
Agnes smiled. “Thank you.” But she didn’t have much else to say, Annie Mac noted, and she seemed uncomfortable, not just because of her seat on the ottoman, but among all these people.
And yet hadn’t Annie Mac also felt strange with everyone in the beginning? And now look at her.
Clay continued chatting with Agnes after Annie Mac had moved too far away to hear. Eventually, with him, Agnes seemed to relax.
Annie Mac glanced away as unwanted thoughts flew through her head. Just how well did Agnes know Clay? And how did she know him?
Agnes was single, Clay was single.
Annie Mac had sent Clay on his way. Clay wanted to be a father. Brisa needed a father.
Annie Mac set her plate down and stood abruptly. “I think I’ll go check on the kids.”
“Good idea,” Hannah said.
Clay ignored her. Of course he did. He was too engrossed in talking to Agnes.
The kids were fine. Certainly they were fine.
Ty sat across from Louis on one of the twin beds as Louis coached him in the finer points of chess. They looked so cute, one blonde, one brown haired with glasses he constantly had to push up his nose. He needed a trip to the optometrist. Hannah could manage that.
Brisa and Jilly perched on the other bed. Brisa had brought a comb, mirror, and brush set for Linney. Instead of Linney using it, the two older girls were grooming each other.
She couldn’t technically call Brisa and Jilly older, though, could she? They weren’t twelve yet. But twelve-year-old Linney would probably never actually be older in her mind. Which, at the moment, made her a perfect playmate for Katie.
And weren’t they cute?
Annie Mac sat in the rocker to
watch them. This must be the guest room, but Hannah had changed it quickly into a room for a little girl, who was actually not small. Hannah knew about bed-wetters from having Katie stay here, which meant she’d certainly taken precautions. Speaking of which . . .
“Girls,” Annie Mac. “Katie, Linney, I think it’s time we made a quick trip to the bathroom.”
Katie bounced up. “You come, too, Linney. We have to remember to go so we don’t have accidents.”
Linney took a moment to process what Katie wanted and then stood, took Katie’s hand, and went with her to the bathroom. Annie Mac followed in case she was needed, but Katie helped her bigger friend and then went herself.
Annie Mac found it fascinating that Katie seemed to know Linney was a special girl, without Annie Mac or anyone saying anything. Thinking how Katie’d come out of the angel choir to help, Annie Mac felt another powerful tug of love.
When Katie flushed the toilet, she reminded Linney they had to wash their hands. The two girls giggled as they compared the soapy suds on their fingers before rinsing them. By the time they’d returned to Linney’s room, Annie Mac knew she wasn’t needed there. She started to go downstairs when Brisa and Jilly raced past. “We’re hungry,” Jilly explained.
Annie Mac laughed. Until she got downstairs and found Agnes still chatting with Clay and Brisa scooting in between them, giving Clay an up-close-and-very-personal look at the beauty of that young girl who didn’t have a daddy. Clay was a sucker for needy kids, wasn’t he? And Brisa was looking at him as if she wanted nothing more than to climb in his lap.
Annie Mac wanted to call her two down and tell them to block the new girl’s moves.
And then she heard her own thoughts and headed immediately for the downstairs powder room. After locking the door, she stared at her miserable self.
“You, my girl, deserve your nightmares and your lonely life. Nasty, jealous, miserable cow, that’s what you are.”
She closed her eyes, made a fist, and pressed it to her stomach, trying to keep the bile down there instead of having it seep up to her throat. Maybe Hannah would let the kids stay for a little while, and she could get away. Get home or go for a walk now that the snow had mostly melted.
Taking a deep breath, she flushed the toilet so no one would think she’d come in here only to rant at herself and casually approached Hannah. She spoke softly for Hannah’s ears only. “I’m not feeling well. Would you mind if the kids stayed here for an hour or two so I can go home, maybe take a nap?”
“Oh, honey, not at all. You just take yourself on home. We’ll be fine. And don’t you worry about coming back for them. We’ll keep them long as you need a break. You’ve been so busy all week, working on that pageant. No wonder you’re feeling exhausted.”
Annie Mac excused herself to the group, collected her coat, and left Hannah to explain her absence to the children. “They’ll be fine, Annie Mac. It’ll be especially good for Louis and Linney. Think of this as you doing me a favor.”
They hugged, and Annie Mac headed back outside and down the drive. In the crisp air, she felt slightly foolish. No, completely foolish.
But she needed to be alone so she could have a good cry and a good yell and maybe even a nap.
That was all she needed. Rest and time to let all the good and positive things in her life settle until she believed in them. Because she was now a woman on her way to total independence. She had a good job. Soon she’d have a new home. Really, life was great.
24
Clay
Clay didn’t buy that bit about Annie Mac’s exhaustion. Well, he did, because she probably was exhausted and stressed with all she’d been doing and the move she’d have to make.
But the notion that only her physical state had taken her away didn’t sit well with him. And what got him to say his own goodbyes a half-hour later were the looks she kept sending Agnes as he and the waitress talked. It hadn’t meant anything, of course, their talk.
He’d told Agnes about Eric’s boat—she’d been curious—and then she’d asked, in a roundabout way, about Henry’s. He couldn’t be much help there, except to say he’d seen it from a distance, and it looked like Henry was working hard to get it in shape.
Then they’d talked about sailing—of which she knew nothing—and about twins—again, nothing, but he didn’t have a clue either. She’d wondered—again, offhandedly—if Eric was in Beaufort as a watchdog for his brother. But Clay wouldn’t comment on something that was only Eric’s business.
When Brisa came down and cuddled with her mama, close enough for him to be uncomfortable—and wasn’t that child going to be a handful very soon—he caught a sick look on Annie Mac’s face as she glanced from Brisa up to where her children played.
Annie Mac’s look had meant something. He’d bet on it. What it had meant was something he intended to find out.
“Hannah, Matt, thanks so much for inviting me. I’m gonna head out now. Tell Louis I’ll be back to talk to him in the morning.”
Goodbyes said, he showed himself out and got in his car. It was only three blocks to Annie Mac’s, but he didn’t want his Jeep where anyone would see it. He found a place to park on a side street, walked around the corner and up the stairs. Then he knocked on her door.
She didn’t answer. He knocked again. She finally opened it a crack. And then all the way.
“I wanted to check on you.” He stuffed his fingers in his front pockets.
She didn’t smile. “I’m fine.”
“I suppose that’s why you look like you’ve been crying since you left.”
She grabbed a tissue out of her pocket and swiped it under her eyes. It had black smudges when she finished. “Great. I forgot I wore mascara today.”
He grinned. “I’ve seen you in all your glory, Annie Mac. You don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I was trying to be beautiful.”
He tilted up her chin. “Annie Mac, you are beautiful. Always.”
“Hah.”
He turned her toward the living room and pushed her down on the couch and then sat beside her. “That, my good woman, is the crux of the matter. You don’t believe anything I say or do.”
“What do you mean? I do believe you.”
He took her hand and held it lightly in his. “No, you don’t. If you did, you’d believe me when I tell you you’re beautiful.”
“But that would be—”
“And you don’t believe me when I tell you I love you. I don’t think you even know what love is.”
She snatched her hand back. “I do. I love my kids.”
He sighed. “Okay. You love your kids. So, when Ty misbehaves or Katie talks back, do you decide you no longer love them?”
She glared at him. “Of course not.”
“What about when they’re sick?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“What if one of them had been born with Down Syndrome? Or some other handicap?”
“What are you getting at, Clay? This conversation seems to be moving from ridiculous to absurd.”
He was afraid of the next part. Would he be betraying Ty if he brought it up? Or had Ty told him so he’d try to fix things?
“Should someone not love you because you have nightmares?”
That got her attention. She scooted away, fluttered her hands at him, and stood abruptly. “How? How do you know about those? No one knows.”
“Ty does. He’s worried about you.” He leaned back and draped his arms on the back of the couch. She looked so cute, furious like that.
“Oh, great.” The word came out on a puff of mad. “Now my own son thinks I’m crazy. What, did he come to you, suggesting you fix me? You, Mr. Fix-Everything police lieutenant, who’s made my kids fall in love with you so they keep pushing me to get on board.”
Clay sent up a quick prayer. He should have prayed before knocking on her door, but maybe God could work retroactively. Help me out here, please?
; He should have prepared what he’d say, too. Figured it all out. But it was too late now. He stood. She gave him her back. It was a lovely back, with lovely long red hair, and his fingers itched to stroke it.
He tucked the tips of those fingers back into his pockets, away from temptation. “It’s not like that.”
“No?” She turned to face him. “No? Then what’s it like? The crazy woman who can’t sleep through the night without screaming? You’d like to marry that woman?” Her voice rose, whether in fury or panic, he wasn’t sure. “You’d like to share a bed with someone who might haul off and flail so hard that she smashes a fist into your nose because she thinks you’re him? The man who tried to kill her? Is that what you want?”
He stood taller, anger shoring him up. “Have you ever thought about it from my perspective? Have you ever, in all your worries and fears, considered that maybe you wouldn’t want to be married to a man who has some scars, who sometimes has to get up in the middle of the night because he’s needed? A man who just might reach over in the middle of your nightmare and pull you close and hug you and make you feel safe?”
Her eyes grew wide.
“No,” he said, warming to his fury. “You’re too self-absorbed to think what your rejection does to me. You’re too blind to anyone else’s needs, too sure you’re right, to understand that love means more than finding someone perfect, and only someone perfect, to whom you give your heart. That love means caring for the loved one if he’s wounded, if she’s broken, if he’s imperfect, if he makes mistakes, if she gets fat or wrinkly or forgetful. It means putting someone else first, and, Annie Mac, you’re lying to yourself if you think by keeping me at arm’s length you’ve been protecting me and putting me first. That’s not love. That’s fear.”
She still didn’t speak. But she didn’t move either.
Raking his fingers through his hair, he took a deep breath as he tried to rein in his emotions. Ranting at her wouldn’t produce anything but higher blood pressure. He softened his tone. “What does the Bible say about love and fear? It claims that ‘Perfect love casts out all fear.’”
Twilight Christmas: A Carolina Coast Novella (Carolina Coast Novels Book 3) Page 11
