A Midnight Clear (3 page)

Poor kid.

She thought back to her conversation this morning with Dr. Crawford. She'd as much as admitted the truth to him. Christmas was supposed to be magical for children. But for Aiden it was nothing but painful.

“You okay with this?” Merry asked.

“Would it matter?” Teri managed to say around the knot in her throat.

“Honey, please. We know you'll miss us. But we were thinking about Aiden as much as the little ones. It would be better for you to visit when there isn't a holiday. We really do care about him. But you know…” She couldn't finish the sentence.

We know you'll miss us?
Really? Would
they
miss
her
or
Aiden
? She wanted to dive right through the phone line and strangle her older sister. Did she even know how selfish she sounded?

The muscles along Teri's neck clamped into a spasm that sent pain radiating down her spine and up into her head. Right now, she wanted to throw herself on the floor and have her own gigantic meltdown.

But she didn't. She swallowed down all those raging thoughts and feelings and said, “Uh, yeah, I'm okay.”

And then she hung up the phone.

T
he Society of American Florists estimated that pink poinsettias accounted for only 6 percent of all the poinsettias sold during the holidays. Teri figured Ruby Rhodes, the proprietor of the Cut 'n Curl, was a major contributor to this statistic. Ruby had purchased no fewer than a dozen large pink poinsettias, along with two magnolia wreaths and several yards of matching garland, for both the inside and outside of the beauty shop.

Teri lugged the plants and greenery into the Cut 'n Curl early on a rainy Monday morning. The weather matched her mood. She was still reeling from Merry's bombshell. Teri had never been alone at Christmastime. What was she going to do?

Of course, she wasn't exactly going to be alone. Aiden would be there. But celebrating Christmas with Aiden was like being with someone from another culture or religion. Aiden didn't see Christmas as a special day. To him, it was just a day like any other, except that the people around him made him do things he hated and feared—like eating mashed potatoes at a table with candles burning on it.

Well, she'd need to do
something
for Christmas. It might be an interesting challenge to figure out which parts of Christmas Aiden actually liked. The thought lifted her spirits. She could name one thing right off the bat. He liked the angels who visited the shepherds. So maybe they'd put up angel ornaments or something.

Teri busied herself putting together a faux tree in the Cut 'n Curl's reception area while Ruby and her daughter-in-law Jane took care of the morning customers—Thelma Hanks and Millie Polk. Thelma and Millie were BFFs who considered gossip to be their main occupation.

The ladies were going at it hot and heavy today. The subject was Arlene Whitaker, the owner of Lovette's Hardware and Ruby's sister-in-law. Arlene had become the favorite topic of the moment because Savannah Randall had told everyone that Arlene would be finding a new love—a man with a boat.

So naturally the folks in town were certain that Arlene, a widow, was having a late-life fling with Roy Burdett, a recent divorcé.

“If you want my opinion,” Thelma said, “Arlene is too old to be looking for a soul mate.” Thelma was sitting at Ruby's workstation, where the beautician was applying dye to her roots.

“She's not that old,” Millie said. Millie, her own roots already loaded with dye, sat at the manicure table with Jane leaning over her hands. “I'd like to think that, as long as there's life, there's hope of finding love. Don't you, Ruby? I mean, I know Arlene was married to your brother, but Pete's gone now, and she deserves happiness.”

“Uh-huh,” Ruby said.

“Well, I'm just saying that Arlene already got her soul mate in Pete,” Thelma said.

Jane looked up at Thelma. “Everyone said the same thing about Stone. And look at him now, happily married for the second time.”

“Well,” Thelma said, “I just can't imagine Arlene taking up with Roy Burdett. I mean, he's
divorced.
”

Teri cringed at the way Thelma said the word. Of course divorced people deserved happiness. Why should divorced people be excluded from happiness just because their first marriages crashed and burned?

Good question, especially since Teri had doubts about this herself. Sometimes she wondered if she was worthy of love.

“And besides,” Thelma continued, “Roy spends most of his time at Dot's Spot.”

“Not anymore,” Ruby said. “He spent a month at one of those places where they dry you out. Dottie told me he hasn't been in the bar in at least a month.”

“Well, I just think it's wrong for Savannah to be handing out marital advice to middle-aged divorcés and widows instead of young people.” Thelma turned and gave Teri a meaningful look.

Teri held Thelma's gaze. “I'm
divorced
too,” she said and then looked away.

“Oh,” Thelma said. “Uh, honey, I didn't mean—”

“Yes you did,” Ruby said. “Teri, honey, don't you listen to Thelma. I think Millie has it right, where there's life there's always the hope of finding true love.”

Teri gave Ruby a smile, but her heart wasn't in it. How could she find true love when even her own family had banished her for Christmas?

She went back to decorating the tree. She tried to tune out the gossip, but her ears pricked when Millie said, “Oh, girls, you won't believe what I heard about Lillian.”

“Try me,” Ruby said under her breath.

“I saw her at choir practice yesterday, and she was fit to be tied because that new Yankee doctor refused to prescribe her arthritis pills. He wanted her to see a specialist. Can you imagine?”

“You'd think he'd let her keep taking her pills while she scheduled an appointment,” Thelma said. “Doesn't he care that she's in pain?”

“Apparently not. I don't think I'll be going there anymore,” Millie said.

“And where would you go?” Ruby asked. “It's not like there are any other doctors in Last Chance. That's why the government sent down a Yankee. He's one of those Health Corps docs.”

“Well, I'm sure not going to see that Yankee. He sounds insensitive.”

“I met him, and he didn't come off that way at all.” The words left Teri's mouth before she could think about it. She found herself staring into the surprised gazes of everyone in the shop. “He was kind to Aiden. Really, really patient with him, and Aiden was having a very bad day.”

Ruby smiled. “Well, that's nice to know.” She turned and glared at Thelma and Millie. “And since when have y'all ever let Lillian Bray color your opinions about folks in this town?” She turned back to her work.

“Maybe she really does need to see a specialist,” Teri said.

“That's exactly what I think,” Ruby said.

But Ruby's attempted intervention would probably have little effect on Millie and Thelma. By the end of the day, Teri figured everyone in town would have an entirely wrong impression of Tom Crawford.

Teri finished placing the pink poinsettias. Maybe she should call Tom—Dr. Crawford—and warn him.

No, that would be foolish. Tom Crawford was handsome, and kind, and thinking about him made her insides warm up. Calling him was out of the question. Besides, a phone call wouldn't stop the gossip.

That would require a miracle.

On Wednesday, Tom left his room at the Jonquil House B&B and headed downstairs into a Christmas tornado. Boxes cluttered every space. More than a dozen red poinsettias lined the hallway like redcoats on parade. A big pile of greenery sat on a drop cloth before the fireplace, perfuming the air with the clean, woodsy smell of fresh-cut pine.

Teri Summers stood right in the eye of the storm.

Her hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. Her face looked fresh and clean. Her outfit today consisted of faded blue jeans and a big, hand-knit snowflake sweater that made her look like the spirit of Christmas decor.

She was the epitome of cute, with a nice shape and eyes that sparkled with Christmas merriment.

Tom had been thinking a lot about her since they'd run into each other at Golfing for God. He wondered how she might react if he asked her out for a dinner date. Quite probably she'd shoot him down. But he'd never know if he didn't try.

He checked his watch. He still had a few minutes before he needed to leave for the short commute to the clinic. He strolled into the inn's living room. “Good morning.”

She looked up from the box of tree ornaments she had just opened. “Oh!” She startled and jumped back a foot. An adorable frown lowered her brow. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm staying at the inn while I look for a permanent home. Housing in Last Chance is wicked hard to come by. What are
you
doing here, besides making a mess?”

“Oh, sorry.” She blushed holly-berry red. “Um, I'm here to decorate. I promise I'll have everything in order by the time you get back from the clinic.” Her eyes looked more brown than gray today.

Jolts of energy zinged through him, leaving him in a decidedly merry mood. It looked as if she planned to trim out every square inch of the inn. He couldn't wait to see what she accomplished. He was a sucker for pine roping. Not to mention mistletoe. “I'm looking forward to seeing the finished product.”

“Um, Doctor. . . Tom. I heard something yesterday and I've been trying to decide whether or not to tell you about it.”

“What?”

“Just some gossip. Honestly, the town runs on gossip. I'm sure you've figured that out by now. But anyway, Lillian Bray is running her mouth about how you. . .” She stopped speaking and the holly-berry blush reappeared. “Don't get the wrong idea,” she rushed on, “I'm not prying or casting any doubt on your abilities as a doctor. But Lillian is doing that. And people listen to Lillian. Which is a mystery, really, but they do.”

His merriment vanished. He'd heard the gossip. He'd even made a quick call to Jeff Cooper. It turned out that, in Jeff's opinion, Mrs. Bray was just looking for attention. So Jeff had been giving her sugar pills to keep her happy. That wasn't exactly practicing medicine by the book, but it certainly kept the old busybody from making trouble.

Tom wasn't about to tell anyone Jeff's little secret. He also wasn't planning on adopting the old doc's method of handling Lillian Bray. Handing out placebos to troublesome patients wasn't good medicine. It might ultimately compromise Mrs. Bray's health.

He'd have to weather Mrs. Bray's public disapproval. But it might not be so hard knowing that someone like Teri Summers cared about what people in town said about him.

He chose his response carefully. “I know Mrs. Bray isn't pleased with me,” he said. “But if she has RA, she needs to see a rheumatologist so we can get her on the best meds to slow the joint damage and manage her pain.” His voice had dropped into that professional tone he'd learned as an intern at Boston Medical Center.

“Oh, well, I just thought you'd like to know.” She gave him the tiniest smile and then turned away toward the naked Douglas fir the inn's owners had set up late last night.

“So, what are you doing this evening?” Tom asked.

She turned to look over her shoulder. “Doctor Crawford, are you asking me out on a
date
?”

He couldn't tell if she was shocked or surprised, so he gave her a nonchalant shrug. Maybe he could fool her into thinking he wouldn't be disappointed if she declined. “I am. I was wondering if you would introduce me to the barbecue in this town. I've heard it's excellent.”

“It is excellent. Much better than anything you've got in Boston.” She turned all the way around to face him. “But I'm afraid I'm busy tonight.”

“Oh, all right. Some other time then.” He backpedaled, and his prosthesis almost tripped him up. He stifled the urge to massage his knee. He was just proud enough not to want Teri to know about his missing leg.

He'd lost it as a result of bone cancer at the age of seven. His “peg leg” as Jimmy liked to call it, had been with him for a long, long time, and he was mostly steady on his feet. In truth, his scars from that time were far less visible.

He took another step back, steadier on his one foot. Luckily, Teri hadn't noticed his awkwardness. Good.

“I'm putting up my own Christmas tree tonight,” Teri said in a rush, as if she was trying to explain her rejection. “Well, anyway, I'm going to try. But you know Aiden might not like it, so I was just going to, you know, put up something small and maybe put some angels on it or something. So I . . .” Her voice trailed off. Her face got redder.

“I see,” he said.

“Uh, well, Aiden and I are going to be on our own this Christmas, you know. And I need to put up a tree. I haven't done that in a long, long time. I'm not sure how Aiden will react.”

“Want some help?”

She stood silent for the longest moment, either trying to compose herself or weighing the pros and cons. “You'd do that?” she finally asked.

He opted to play this scene straight. No need to give her a speech about his past. The less said about that the better. “I'm pretty good at putting up Christmas trees. Although”—he looked around at the mess—“I might not be up to your professional standards.”

Her mouth quirked as if she were trying to keep it from trembling. “My professional standards mean nothing. Aiden has definite likes and dislikes, and this year I thought I'd try to tailor Christmas to
his
standards, instead of forcing him to celebrate the holiday by everyone else's.” She bit her lower lip.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.” Man, she had one kissable mouth. Too bad he hadn't caught her under the mistletoe that she was clearly planning to hang before the day was out.

“Yeah,” she said with a little nod, “it does sound like a good plan, doesn't it? I have no idea where this is going to lead though.”

Neither do I.
“I'm adventurous.”

“I think that's true. You came all the way from Boston to the middle of nowhere to do battle with Lillian Bray and the rest of the busybodies in this town. That takes courage.”

He was surprised. Ma had told him that joining the NHSC had been an act of supreme stupidity. “So, what time?” he asked.

“Uh, well, I guess about six.”

“Six it is, then.” He turned and made the quickest of getaways before she realized that he'd just sort of invited himself over.