A Holiday to Remember (14 page)

“I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Suppose the family she told you about was real—she lost her grandkids plus her daughter and son-in-law in a fire. That’s a huge blow for a woman alone.”

“Yes.”

“So one night, she comes across a young girl wandering on the mountain. This girl has no ID on her and can’t say who she is or where she’s from.”

“The responsible, moral, reasonable thing to do is take the girl to a hospital and let the police find out where she belongs.”

“True. But this woman has suffered a grievous loss, and maybe she’s not quite sane.” Chris kept his voice even, despite the tension on both ends of the line. “Or maybe she never was quite sane, which is why she lived alone on a mountain. Anyway, this girl has mahogany curls, like her daughter and granddaughter had. She doesn’t remember anything about herself, and she’s terrified.

“The old woman takes to calling the girl Jayne, which was her mother’s and her daughter’s name. Soon enough the girl
is
Jayne to her. They have a relationship.”

“Built on lies.” Her brittle tone eased a fraction.

“Actually, I think the foundation was kindness—the old woman took care of this girl when she was hurt. Remember that Good Samaritan story I mentioned before?”

The dam broke suddenly. Jayne’s “yes” was buried in the midst of sniffs and smothered sobs.

“It was pretty easy, I imagine, to fill in the memories with her own—memories of her daughter’s childhood and what she knew of her granddaughter’s. Maybe…maybe Elizabeth Jayne rebuilt her life around the girl she found on the mountain.”

After a minute, his Jayne whispered thickly, “Hold on. I’ll
be back.” In the distance, he could hear her blowing her nose, which made him smile.

Then she said, “I’m here,” into the phone. “Thank you.”

“We can probably check some of this out,” he told her. “The family, the fire…there will be records. If you want to know.”

She sighed. “Perhaps. One day.”

That seemed to be enough drama for tonight. “Charlie would like you to visit him,” Chris said then, more briskly. “If you don’t mind.”

“I’ll be glad to visit, as long as you don’t mind keeping watch over seven rambunctious girls.”

“I can do that.” They settled the details for meeting the next morning. Then they both yawned at the same time.

“Did you turn up the heat in your room?” he asked.

Jayne chuckled. “It’s set on seventy-four. Is the cabin warm?”

“I’m at the inn, too. And I’ve got the thermostat set at seventy-six.” His room was directly below hers, as a matter of fact, which was a kind of torture all by itself. He could go to her…the girls would never know. They could be alone…

Then she yawned again, hugely, audibly. And sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ve had a long week. Sleep well, Ms. Thomas. I’ll see you and the girls at the hospital tomorrow morning.”

“You, too, Chris.”

He put the phone down before she did, turned off the bedside light and crawled between the sheets, which could have been burlap, for all he noticed at that point.

They knew most of the facts now, but he wasn’t sure truth had simplified the situation. If he’d met Jayne without recognizing her and they’d fallen in love in the usual way, Chris didn’t think there would be a problem.

Instead, he’d been a stupid jerk and barged into her life at
exactly the wrong time, told her the sad old story in the worst possible way and demanded she remember being the girl who loved him. How could Jayne know what she felt for him now?

Worse, why should she believe him when he said he loved her? As a boy, he’d adored Juliet with all the conviction in his young heart. But did anyone love at thirty the way they loved at fifteen?

His feelings for Jayne Thomas would always be different, because
he
was different. He loved Jayne as a man loves his woman, with the passion and endurance of an adult, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. Without the same kind of love on her side, how could they build a solid life together?

Half a loaf, they said—whoever “they” might be—was better than none.

Chris very much doubted that the same could be said of love.

T
HE SMALL RIDGEVILLE HOSPITAL
stood only a few blocks off Main Street. After a late breakfast, Jayne prodded the girls into their jackets and started them on the short walk from the inn. The snow had largely melted off the roads and sidewalks, and the temperature had climbed into the forties.

“It feels like summertime,” Beth declared, pulling off her hat. “I’m getting hot in this coat.”

Haley squinted down the street. “The bank sign says forty-two degrees.” She had an appointment with a doctor that afternoon to have her wrist examined, but the bruising and swelling had decreased quite a bit in the last two days.

“The snowmen are melting,” Sarah pointed out as they walked past the houses on Fledgling Street. “It’s so sad.”

Jayne kept her eyes and half her attention on the girls, but looked ahead as well, wanting a glimpse of Chris as soon as
possible. She’d hugged him less than twenty-four hours ago, and they’d talked within the last twelve. But she wanted to see him.

She was searching so hard, in the end she missed him entirely. Her gaze passed over the tall, lean figure in an Irish knit sweater and gray corduroy jeans as she sought a heavier figure in a worn, too-big parka and dirty denims.

So the girls saw him first. “Mr. Hammond!” they screamed, practically in unison, and went running down the sidewalk. Jayne, blushing and with her heart pounding, followed.

At least she arrived after the hugs had been accomplished, and didn’t have to try to endure such casual contact.

“There you are,” she said, sounding only a little breathless. She hoped.

“Good morning. Did you sleep like a rock?” He gave her his smile, and she studied his smooth face, his clean, wavy hair blowing in the slight breeze and the sharp blue brilliance of his eyes. Lord, the man was handsome.

What had he asked? “Oh…oh, yes. Definitely. Did you have enough room to stretch out?” They fell in step together as the girls explored the residual snow on the lawn of the hospital.

“I woke up lying on my back, with a hand or a foot in each corner.”

Jayne stopped in her tracks and gazed at him. “I don’t believe you.”

Chris chuckled. “Not really. But I had a good night’s rest.” They reached the entrance and stopped again. Hands in his pockets, he said, “Charlie’s in room 258. He’s excited that you’re coming.”

“I’m glad to be here,” she stated honestly.

“And don’t worry about the girls. I’ll keep them out of trouble.”

Thinking back to the week before, when she’d feared he might be an ax murderer or a pedophile, as well as her personal stalker, Jayne smiled. “I know you will. I trust you.” She walked into the hospital without a backward glance.

On the second floor, she located Charlie’s room and peeked around the door, in case he was resting.

But the man in the bed immediately held out a hand. “Come on in. Let me see you.”

Jayne crossed the room and, when he kept his hand out, felt she had no choice but to take it. “I’m Jayne Thomas, Mr. Hammond.”

“Call me Charlie. I know who you are. And who you were.” He stared at her, his brows drawn together. Despite the gray hair and the ravages of age, she could see Chris in his face.

“I can tell why he recognized you,” Charlie concluded. “You’re plumper, all grown up and filled out. But there’s something of Juliet in your eyes. And in that mouth of yours. Have a seat.”

Blinking at the notion of being “plumper” and “filled out,” Jayne sat. “I’m sorry you’re not well.”

He waved the comment away with the same gesture Chris used. “I’m seventy-eight. Folks die. Christopher says you don’t remember him, or those times. Do you want to?”

“I…”

Charlie didn’t break the silence as Jayne considered whether she did, indeed, want to remember her life as Juliet.

“No, I don’t think I do.” She said it with a shiver of surprise. “There seems to have been a lot of pain involved. I don’t think I—Juliet—was ever very happy. Except here in the mountains, with you and Chris.”

“I’d say that was true. Even here, though, the two of you
always had the next separation hanging over you. It’s hard to think straight when you know you have to say goodbye soon.”

“It is.”

She’d been gazing at their clasped hands. When Charlie didn’t saying anything for a little too long, she looked up, worried, only to find he’d dozed off. Would he sleep a long time? Should she leave?

Before she’d decided, his eyes snapped open again. “For what it’s worth, Christopher has done some changing these last few days. He’s not the same boy who left my house and rode off into a blizzard.”

“That’s funny,” Jayne replied. “Because I think I am the same woman he fell on top of at the front door of the school that night. More or less, anyway.”

Charlie nodded. “Good. Things’ll work out just right, if that’s the case. He needed a woman, not the selfish young girl he’s mourned all these years.” He took a sip of water, coughed and then squeezed her hand. “Now, tell me where you went to school. What kind of courses did you take?”

They talked about education and the beauty of the Smoky Mountains and her junior year in Spain, where he’d also spent some time, until Charlie began to look tired.

“I’m going,” Jayne told him, standing by the bed. “But I’ll see you again soon.”

“You will.” He closed his eyes as she bent to kiss his cheek. “Count on it. And tell Christopher to keep the heat on in my house, ’cause I’m going home at the end of this week, whether that damn doctor likes it or not!”

Chris treated them all to pizza for lunch. While he spent the evening at the hospital with his grandfather, Ms. Thomas subjected her students to an etiquette lesson in the inn’s formal dining room, complete with soupspoons, ice-cream forks and different glasses for each type of wine—filled with soda, of course.

On the following morning, the comforts of the twenty-first century, including electricity, returned to Hawkridge Manor. Once the maintenance company for the generator rushed out to repair it at no cost, and apologized profusely for a faulty switch, Jayne took her girls back to their school. The close quarters at the hotel had them all getting on each other’s nerves. And hers.

Jayne had called all the parents from the hotel that first night to assure them their daughters were safe and in a suitable environment. Now she called again to report the move back to home ground. Though Monique’s parents and Taryn’s grandparents had intended to bring them home for the holiday, both girls asked to stay at school until classes started again in January. The relief in their families’ voices was painfully easy to hear.

So they settled back into their routine—minus cooking on
the fire. They were all grateful for hot food and drinks at the turn of a knob.

But when Jayne suggested, the first night back, that the girls could go to their own beds, Haley was the first to protest. “Can’t we sleep down here?”

Beth nodded. “Sleeping by the fire was cool.”

“It was warm,” Monique corrected. She winked at Beth. “But I liked it, too. It’s only a few more days.”

“We’ve still got our blanket rolls made up,” Sarah added in a hopeful voice.

“Those need to be washed,” Jayne announced. Then she grinned. “But it can wait until tomorrow.”

The manor sat higher on the mountain than Ridgeville, and the temperatures hadn’t climbed enough to completely melt the huge quantity of snow. The girls had spent their afternoon outside and were, as a result, quite tired after dinner. Taryn and Haley fell asleep before the movie on the television was halfway over. Jayne sat under a lamp in the far corner, knitting with the mohair yarn she’d purchased on that first morning, when Chris had been stalking her. She smiled at the memory.

“Ms. Thomas?” Serena stood in front of her. “The movie’s over. Would it be okay if we turned off the TV?”

Jayne tried to hide her shock. “Of course. What are you going to do instead?”

The girl shrugged. “Talk a little, I guess. Just be quiet. It’s nice to listen to the crackle of the fire.”

What a change from the usual dependence on mass-produced sources of entertainment. Jayne didn’t expect the transformation to be permanent. They would return to average teenage habits soon enough. But perhaps, when they became adults, they would remember this week of self-sufficiency and bring it back into their lives.

Thanks, in no small part, to Chris.

Jayne let her knitting fall into her lap, leaned her head against the wing of the chair and closed her eyes. She didn’t know what to expect from him now. Would he see that Charlie was taken care of and then go back to his job, somewhere halfway around the world? That had been his intention, she was sure. His grandfather said he’d changed during the last week. But that could be just wishful thinking on the part of a fond old man.

As to her own future…nothing would change there unless she chose. Hawkridge would be here and would continue to need a headmistress. She liked the job and was good at it. What else did she need to know?

An image flashed in front of her closed eyes—of a snowy night, a winding road, an open convertible. Maybe her imagination had supplied the details…or was it her memory? She could see the red upholstery in the car, smell wax and leather and the scent of pines in the air. He’d been wearing a leather jacket with a sheepskin lining, but no gloves. His fingers were icy cold when he reached for her face, forcing her to look at him.

Hot tears and cold snowflakes touched her cheeks at the same moment.

The phone rang on the table beside her. Shocked by the unfamiliar noise, Jayne jerked upright, which sent her knitting sliding to the floor. She picked up the receiver first, then bent to retrieve her needles. “The Hawkridge School,” she said, panting. “Headmistress Jayne Thomas speaking.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Chris told her with a grin in his voice. “I’d have been worried if anybody else answered.”

Jayne told herself it was the bending over that left her breathless. “Where are you?”

“Charlie’s. Are you okay?”

“Of course.” She drew a deep breath in through her nose, hoping to calm down. “How is Charlie?”

“Good. They’re going to release him on Friday.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. He’s feeling better?”

“According to Charlie, he never felt bad in the first place.”

She chuckled. “Of course.” Then she sobered as the need to know his plans overcame her. “Do you, um, expect to stay with him for a while? Or do you have to rush off to some new crisis?”

“I don’t have to rush.”

That wasn’t an answer, but she hesitated to push any harder. “I’m sure your granddad will enjoy the time you spend together.”

“I expect he’ll be as crabby as usual within an hour of stepping through his own front door. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” One word was all she could manage.

“I wondered if you and the girls would like to come over and welcome Charlie home.”

He spoke as if this was the most reasonable idea in the world, as if they were lifelong friends. As if they were
family.

Jayne didn’t want to hope. “Won’t seven teenagers be too much for Charlie when he’s just out of the hospital?”

“He asked if you all could visit. He wants to meet the girls. And he’d like to see you again.”

She wasn’t sure she believed Chris, but how could she refuse?
Why
should she? One last day with him wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Then we’d be glad to join you.”

“Great.” The word sounded like a sigh of relief. “I’ll let you know exactly what time we’ll be there.”

A silence followed, which Jayne felt compelled to break. “I want to thank you again for all—”

“No way.” On the other end of the line, Chris cursed himself for not saying it first. “The debt in this situation is all mine,” he insisted. “You rescued me out of the storm, literally.”

“You were so much help with the girls—”

“Then the honors are even and we need to forget about that.” He didn’t want gratitude from Jayne Thomas.

Another silence demanded to be filled. “Are the girls all wrapped in their separate earphones, listening to their own sounds?” He had to laugh when she told him they’d turned off the TV to sleep. “One small step for civilization,” he suggested.

Then he realized she might want to get to bed, herself. “You’ve had a busy few days and you must be tired. I’ll let you go to sleep,” he offered, though the vision of Jayne in bed did not inspire him with the desire to snooze. “They’ll be awake early tomorrow morning, I bet.”

Her sweet chuckle rippled through him. “And they know where the microwave, the bagels and the instant oatmeal are. They’re pretty self-reliant these days.”

“Who would have thought?” This time, he distinctly heard Jayne yawn. “Get a good night’s rest. I’ll call again when I know more about Charlie’s schedule.” After a second, he added, “And even if I don’t.”

She hesitated, then said, “I would like that.”

And Chris went to sleep with a smile on his face.

T
HE PLAN EVOLVED
over three phone calls the next day and one last call early Friday morning. Lunch plans enlarged from sandwiches and chips to a roast turkey, started by Chris in the morning, and side dishes prepared by the girls to please every individual taste.

“We look like a catering company,” Jayne commented as
they loaded boxes and bowls into the back of the school van at 8:00 a.m. “Maybe that could be a Hawkridge sideline.”

“It’s pretty hard work.” Monique carried out a heavy bowl of potato salad. “I vote no.”

Taryn groaned under the weight of a huge tossed salad. “I like cooking. But not this much.”

Yolanda, however, was hooked. “I’m going to look at colleges with catering programs. This is so much fun, and I can’t wait to taste my mama’s sweet-potato casserole.” She’d supplied the recipe from memory.

“Neither can I,” Jayne assured her. “Now, do we have everything?” A quick survey revealed the absence of cranberry sauce.

“All of you get into the van,” Jayne instructed. “I’ll fetch the sauce.”

As she started out of the kitchen, though, the telephone rang. She was tempted to ignore it, but if a parent called and didn’t get an answer…

“Good morning.” Chris’s rough, early-morning voice responded to her standard greeting. “Are you awake?”

“I’ll have you know we’re loaded into the van and ready to drive. While you sound like you just rolled off the mattress.”

“Not yet, actually. I’ve got half an hour before I have to leave.”

“Oh, well, that’s plenty of time.”

“Do I hear sarcasm?”

“Oh, yes.”

He sighed. “I thought so.”

Jayne waited a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. “Chris? Is something wrong?”

“No. I just…” She could picture him rubbing a hand over his face in the pause. “I had a rough night. I dreamed you left. And never came back.”

She swallowed a flicker of anger, a spark of hurt. “We call that
déjà vu.
”

“No, no, not Juliet. You. Jayne Thomas.”

Now she had to swallow back tears. “Well, my only travel plans at the moment involve getting a van loaded with seven girls and a lot of delicious food to Charlie’s cabin in the next hour.”

She heard him draw a breath, then loudly exhale. “I can live with that. See you about noon?”

“Definitely.”

“Good.”

“I’
LL MAKE YOU A DEAL,”
Chris told his granddad as they waited for the wheelchair to arrive.

“What?” Charlie paced to the window. “I can walk out,” he grumbled. “Why do they always make me take the damn chair?”

“So you don’t fall. So you don’t sue them because you fell.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“That’s what they all say. Do you want to hear the deal?”

“Sure. What’s the deal?”

“If you don’t complain from here to the car about the wheelchair, I’ll let you walk by yourself into your own house.”

Charlie stared at him with narrowed eyes. “There’s another option?”

Chris stood up from the bed. “Sure. You’ve lost enough weight, I don’t think I’d have any trouble throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you in.”

His granddad straightened up. “You think you could?”

Stepping closer, Chris looked down at the older man. “I know I could.”

Rolling his eyes, Charlie looked away. “I’ll complain if I want to.”

But he kept every thought to himself as the nursing aide
pushed his chair down the hall and into the elevator, then out to the front entrance of the hospital where the Hawkridge sedan waited.

“You’re driving the school car?” Charlie lowered himself into the passenger seat. “What’s that about?”

“Jayne let me borrow it. Your piece of junk is still parked at the doctor’s office.” Chris shut the door and went around to the driver’s side.

Charlie started to bristle. “That car is…” The words trailed off and he sighed. “A piece of junk. I just don’t see the point of buying a new one.”

Chris ignored the implication. “Don’t worry about it. I can drive you around while I’m here.”

“Last I heard, you were planning to leave New Year’s Day.”

“Plans change.” He tipped the visor down against the bright winter sunshine.

“Do they?”

Chris took a deep breath. “Maybe.”

With a satisfied “Ah,” Charlie relaxed against the seat. “I hope you’ve got something good planned for lunch.”

The drive to Charlie’s place took an easy fifteen minutes. Chris grinned when he saw fresh tire tracks in the soft mud of the drive. Jayne and the girls had arrived.

In fact, the girls came pouring out onto the front porch as soon as he braked the car. Charlie looked at the group and then at Chris. “We have company for lunch?”

“Yep.”

“Good. And we made a deal, right?”

“We did.”

With a decisive nod, Charlie pushed the car door open and hauled himself up out of the seat.

“Don’t forget it,” he told Chris. Then he walked on his
own, head high, back straight and steps firm, to greet his guests on the porch.

Chris didn’t get a chance to talk to Jayne until all of them had settled into chairs around his granddad’s farm table. He leaned to his right, where she sat beside him. “The food looks terrific.”

She nodded, keeping an eye out as the dishes were passed around. “You did a great job with the turkey. It was perfectly done when we got here.”

He helped himself to sweet potatoes and passed the bowl to Jayne. “I just followed your instructions.”

“That’s a skill I appreciate.” She picked up her fork and took a quick bite of the potatoes while he was still ladling dressing onto his plate. “Mmm. Yolanda’s mother has a fabulous recipe. Is Charlie feeling okay?”

“Physically, who knows? Mentally, he’s as sharp as ever. He was pleased to see all the girls here. And you.”

“It’s a very special day.”

Chris barely stopped himself from saying, “I hope so.” He appreciated the effort the girls and Jayne had taken to create this dinner, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat, wouldn’t be able to until he was sure…sure of Jayne, sure of their future together. The only way to be sure was to talk to her. Alone.

Yet here they were, in a small cabin with eight other people. That was why he’d cornered Sarah as soon as he got into the house—to get this right, he needed help.

After finishing up a second piece of pecan pie, Charlie slapped his hands on the table. “That was a meal worth coming home for.” He nodded his head at Jayne. “My compliments to you and your cooks, Ms. Thomas. All I need now is a cigar and a glass of brandy and the day will be perfect.”