Christmas To Remember

by Kay Stockham

Giving in to the need, he pulled his inhaler from his pocket and took a puff. He had to get back onto a regular schedule. Working so much, being overseas and then trying to catch up, he’d gotten off track with his meds. Now he was starting to feel the effects.

  “Probably.” Beau searched his gaze for a long moment. “You really don’t remember Marley Pierce?”

  “I already told you, I don’t. Now, eat. That was a doozy of a headache you had today, and I’m thinking it’s too soon for you to be doing so much. Maybe you’d better stay around here tomorrow.”

  Beau picked at his food. “No way. If I have to stare at that ugly wallpaper anymore I’ll lose it. I’m coming with you. I promise I’ll take it easy.”

  He raised his eyebrows and waited, expectant even though Beau had generally ignored rules since the beginning of his adolescence.

  His son released a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I’ll stay away from Marley Pierce, too.”

  Barry kept his surprise to himself. Maybe getting hit on the head had changed his son for the better.

  THE NEXT DAY Marley used a shovel to dig out a particularly large blackberry root she’d rototilled into submission, and wondered once again at the odds of Beau Buchanan turning up in her hometown.

  The previous night had been spent ignoring phone calls from her brother and talking to Angel about Damon until the early hours of the morning. Angel had a truckload of emotional baggage weighing on her from her marriage, and despite her friend’s blasé attitude, Marley knew Angel hurt way more than she let on. That’s why she didn’t want to add to Angel’s worries by mentioning Beau’s presence in town.

  Laughter and ribbing from the house next door had her discreetly glancing over at the Buchanan crew and noting Beau wasn’t among the group of men taking advantage of the shade under the breezeway. The smell of sawdust, the shrill sound of saws and the punch of nail guns filled the air, intermixed with hammers and drills from the third house going up half an acre away.

  South Ridge was only about a hundred fifty miles from Cincinnati, and the new development going up on rolling, fertile farmland was certainly large enough to have attracted attention from bidders that far away but…

  Here? She’d been by the site numerous times over the last couple weeks while the first house was built and the inside work was being completed, and she’d even noticed the Buchanan & Son trucks parked outside, but she’d never linked the two together.

  The Beau she’d known back in Cincinnati had been more apt to party than work, and he’d never mentioned anything about wanting to become an electrician. The mean part of her wondered if he’d have a job if not for his father, but then she reminded herself he was a military vet and an injured one at that and she felt guilty for being so cruel.

  The point is you never really knew him.

  Marley grimaced at the truth. She’d been away from home for the first time ever, and determined to show her parents she was an adult. A woman ready for college and to be on her own. Instead she’d proven all their doubts and comments about her gullible nature true because she’d believed Beau’s smooth-talking lies.

  The effects of her sleepless night caught up with her in the form of a loud, unstoppable yawn. She was dog tired and running on nothing but caffeine and worry. Having to face the source of her humiliation certainly didn’t make her want to do anything other than go to bed and pull the covers over her head.

  Construction was scheduled to last a full two years. If it remained on schedule. If not, it would last longer. How many construction jobs remained on schedule?

  She stopped to stretch her back for the thousandth time, and hoped for a breeze to ease the anxiety-ridden muscle aches plaguing her. Shaking her head, she made a mental list of possibilities.

  Her mom didn’t get out much and didn’t talk to her friends very often. Clay was seriously distracted by Angel’s sudden return, and although she did feel bad about using Angel to her advantage in this case, she was desperate enough to do it. Which left…her father.

  “I’m doomed.”

  Her father worked in South Ridge’s most prominent law firm, and belonged to various clubs and organizations. No way would he not hear the construction happenings and gossip when his golf buddies were the development’s backers. Was there any way he’d do the same thing she had and not connect the last names? Surely there were plenty of Buchanans in every phone book?

  Her frustration grew. She’d worked so hard to make up with her parents. To overcome the embarrassment she’d caused them and be the “good girl” they’d always demanded she be. But none of it would matter now.

  The stubborn blackberry vine had more roots than Medusa had snakes. Another one lay before her, half in and half out of the ground. It had taken her five minutes to loosen it as much as it was and the stupid thing still wasn’t out. After jabbing it a final time with the shovel, she balanced herself on one hand, shoved her gloved fingers into the ground beneath it, made a fist around it and pulled.

  When that didn’t work, she rearranged her legs and feet, blew her hair out of her face and used both hands, yanking, wrenching, until the root came loose with a spray of sandy dirt that sprinkled her eyes and sent her sprawling backward onto the newly bricked path.

  Well, that was graceful.

  Marley opened her gritty eyes but quickly squeezed them shut again when pain stabbed through her pupils with the sharpness of a knife. “Oh! Ow!”

  A rough “Hold on” sounded from close by, and even though the voice belonged to the last person she wanted to see, Beau’s presence rid her of the urge to shed a few tears—at least those born of pity. Anger and pain-ridden ones on the other hand…

  She rolled to her side and tried to open her eyes again. It didn’t work.

  “Hang on and don’t move.”

  She felt Beau kneel next to her, his hand on her shoulder urging her onto her back.

  “Let go, I’ve got dirt in my eyes.”

  “I know, let me—Would you hold still? Lie back.”

  “I need water to wash them out!”

  “Lucky for you I’ve got some. Settle down and I’ll rinse them for you.”

  “I can—Hurry.” Miserable, hot and embarrassed, Marley did as ordered. Calloused fingertips brushed the dirt from the skin around her eyes before settling on her forehead.

  “Open your eyes and I will.”

  She tried, she really did, but between the stinging and the dirt, she couldn’t hold them open for more than a second. The hand on her forehead shifted and she felt Beau’s thumb settling lower, pulling her lids up. Vaguely, a part of her wondered how he’d manage with the sling but—

  “This might hurt a little.”

  “Wh—”

  Cold water splattered onto her face, dousing one eye and then the other before she had time to do more than gasp and sputter. Jerking her head away, she rolled back to her side and sat up, struggling to breathe since water had also gone up her nose. Blinking Marley bit back the litany of names she wanted to call him and grabbed the hem of her shirt, pulling it up to dab at her eyes. “Did you have to drown me?”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The sound of his voice so close to her ear had her jerking her head up, and noticing two things at once—the sling was missing from around his neck, and Beau’s gaze was focused on her belly. She shoved the now-grimy material down. “Stop that.”

  Remaining where he was, Beau tilted his dark head to the side and smiled. Oh, that smile.

  “You okay now?”

  She felt her face heat again. “Fine. Thank you for the, um, water.”

  Amusement sparkled in his eyes, and he had a grin the likes of which her mama had warned her about.

  Too bad she hadn’t listened.

  “Glad I was around to help.”

  Marley stood, automatically pulling at her water-spotted shirt because it stuck to her skin.

  Beau pushed himself to his feet and he’d almost made it fully upright when he shifted his weight in deference t
o his injured leg, and slipped. He went down with a muffled sound and landed hard.

  Marley’s hand flew to her mouth. “Are you all right? Beau?”

  The pause that followed was broken only by his rough groan. One that didn’t sound pain oriented but…Was he embarrassed?

  “Um…Let me help you.” She grabbed the shovel and held it out to him, thinking he could use it for leverage, but called herself heartless and tossed it aside. She extended her hand instead. “Come on, it’s not every day a guy falls at my feet,” she quipped, earning a reluctant smile. Heat suffused her cheeks and her conscience niggled that she shouldn’t be flirting with him.

  Flirting? She wasn’t flirting.

  “Take my hand and let’s get you up—er, I mean…” Oh, what had she said! “On your f-feet.” Head down and face blazing hot, she ignored the zing of sensation that traveled up her arm when he chuckled at her words and placed his larger palm against hers.

  Beau used her as a counterbalance as he stood, holding her close for a split second before she came to her senses and backed away. She looked at the roots covering the cracks between the brick and groaned. Two steps forward and four steps back. She’d have to get those cleaned out or else be called back in the spring to fix it when the roots began to grow.

  “Marley—”

  “I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks for the save with my eyes.” When he opened his mouth to argue she cut him off again. “There’s no use pretending we’re anything other than what we are, Beau—and that’s not friends. You made that clear a long time ago.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “Too bad. I do.”

  He stared at her a long moment, his expression thoughtful. Remorseful? Guilt stirred at her uncaring words. What would it be like to not remember? His expression bothered her. So much so that for a rash second, she wanted to forget the past and…play nice.

  Marley turned her back to him and grabbed the shovel. No way should she be thinking nice when it came to Beau Buchanan. Nice wasn’t smart. In fact, being nice would be royally stupid.

  She didn’t hear Beau walk away, but she knew the moment he was no longer there. The awareness was gone. The tension.

  Shaking her head, she got back to work.

  She’d been nice once.

  And she knew better than anyone that nice girls finished last.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AN HOUR OR SO LATER Clay pulled into the driveway. Marley had finished preparing the ground on the far side of the house for shrubs and had started planting them when her brother got out of his Jeep, wearing a fierce scowl. She stopped, taken aback because he looked so much like their father. Great, just what she needed. Had he heard?

  Grabbing a boxwood, she positioned it and did her best to act casual.

  “What’s this I hear about you getting it on with some guy in broad daylight?”

  Mouth agape, she twisted to face him, scraping her knee on a rock in the process. “What? Who said that?” Marley turned toward the nearby construction trailer, and sure enough, the general contractor’s secretary had her face pressed to the glass watching them. “Kallie called you?”

  “Actually, I called her to let her know I’d be stopping by to take pictures before the storms hit later in the week. I asked how you were doing and she said—”

  “That I was getting it on with a guy. Of all the—” She made a face. “I got dirt in my eyes and couldn’t see anything. One of the—the guys rinsed them for me.”

  “That all?”

  “Yes!” She glanced over at the trailer’s window to find Kallie conspicuously absent.

  “If that’s all, then why are you getting so bent out of shape?”

  “Because.” She forced herself to take a deep breath. “Because she told you that. That’s how nasty rumors get started and I don’t appreciate her saying it, even if she was joking.” Which she wasn’t.

  “Sounded to me like she was happy for you.”

  “Yeah, right. If anything she was trying to milk you for information about who he was.”

  “She thought you had a boyfriend.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Okay, fine, no boyfriend. I still think I’ll go over there and say thanks. You know, be brotherly.”

  She so didn’t like the twinkle in his eye when he said that.

  Marley laughed, but it sounded forced to her own ears. When Clay’s eyebrow hiked up behind his sunglasses and he shot her a know-it-all smirk, she said a quick prayer. “Get real. Wh-why would you want to do that? It was no big deal.”

  He hesitated, his gaze narrowing. “You’re lying. Why are you lying?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Think I can’t tell?” His expression turned superior. “You’re a horrible liar, but you’re giving it your best shot which means…something’s going on here.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You going to tell me what it is, or do I have to go over there and find out for myself?”

  Kallie’s face reappeared in the window.

  Marley ignored the woman as best she could and released another weak laugh. “You’ve always had an overactive imagination. You should be writing novels instead of newspaper articles.” She grabbed a shrub and turned away from him. “Hey, while you’re here, look at these and tell me if they’re spaced correctly. I set my yardstick down and someone swiped it.”

  In response to her words, Clay turned on his loafered heel, his direction clear.

  “Clay.” Marley couldn’t believe her luck when she heard the familiar rumble of a diesel engine pulling onto development property. Not long after helping Beau to his feet, she’d noticed him leaving with his father. Not that she’d been watching for him, she’d simply wondered if he’d been hurt. Regardless, the truck was back, which meant Beau might be getting out any second and—“Clay, wait!” She tossed the plant aside.

  Too late. She knew the moment her brother spotted the Buchanan & Son sign on the truck. The instant Clay recognized the name and things clicked. Desperate, Marley jogged the last few feet separating them and tossed herself at his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders dirt and all, letting her weight drag at him from behind.

  “What the—Let go.”

  “You are not going over there. This isn’t the playground and I handled it myself.”

  “It’s—”

  “I know good and well who it is,” she hissed into his ear, “and you are not going over there!” Marley raised a hand and smacked him gently on the back of his head, hoping it would knock some sense into him.

  “Stop that,” he growled, glaring at her over his shoulder. “The truck—”

  “It’s a company truck.” She prayed hard that Barry Buchanan had dropped Beau off somewhere, that Beau wasn’t about to climb out of the passenger side because if he did…“Stop pulling the older-brother act, will you?”

  Clay stared across the street. Barry parked and got out, carrying takeout for his men. And while seemingly a nice enough man, Barry was quite a bit older and not her type, which Clay knew very well. Thankfully, no one else emerged.

  Her brother inhaled deeply. The anger keeping his shoulders tensed subsided in slow degrees. She swallowed and let go. Dirt had stained his dress shirt, but given his less-than-stellar mood, she wasn’t about to mention it and get him started on a lecture about her behavior. A lecture that would inevitably lead back to Angel’s influence over her. Her brother loved the hoyden in Angel. With his little sister, he just considered it problematic.

  Maybe no one would notice?

  “You’re digging yourself in deep, Marley.”

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  “He’s—”

  “A guy who came to town to work on the housing development. Nothing else.”

  “You’re going to want my help when this blows up in your face.”

  No doubt she was. Did that mean he offered it?

  “But you’re not going to get it.”

  “Clay—”

 
“Not when I know Angel’s still in town and you’re hiding her. Where is she? Angelique might go to see her mom, but she wouldn’t stay there and she didn’t check into any of the hotels in the area. That leaves you. She’s at your apartment, isn’t she?”

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “Really? How was dinner last night? I ran into Mr. Chang this morning and he asked me if I’d enjoyed the takeout, said you’d bought dinner for two. You invite that guy?” He jerked a thumb toward the house across the street.

  “Of course not! I was just hungry because I missed lunch. If you must know, I ordered too much and there’s leftovers in my fridge.” That part wasn’t a lie.

  Clay bent until he was nearly nose to nose with her. “You bought Crab Rangoon even though you hate it?” Hands propped on his hips, he frowned down at her and waited.

  Mr. Chang must’ve gone into detail. Or else Clay had suspected and asked. “She’s there.” Marley figured it wouldn’t hurt to confirm the obvious. Clay knew Angel wouldn’t stay anywhere else but with her.

  Her brother nodded once. “I’ll deal with you and Angel later, but for now…Where is he?”

  She lifted her chin. “I don’t know where he went and I don’t care. Neither should you.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Clay, please don’t make this worse. You’re right, okay? I’m going to need help, but if Dad has to come bail you out of jail again because you’ve gotten in a fight over me, Mama won’t talk to me for another two years! Let me handle this and—and back me up.”

  Marley walked over to where she’d been planting, the walkway littered with dirt and the remains of the stubborn blackberry vine she’d unearthed. She’d have to remember to remind Eli to remove them from the topsoil mix before shaping the beds.

  “Get the bad stuff out, Marley, don’t let it hide only to come out and ruin everything.”

  She’d learned that on her knees beside her mother, digging in the backyard, and while she loved her mom, knew somewhere deep inside her mother loved her in return, there was a monstrous gap to mend and Beau Buchanan’s presence would make that impossible. What was she going to do?