Christmas in Eternity Springs (5 page)

Claire let one shoe dangle from her foot and fall to the floor. Her gaze stole to the shelf below the cash register where she'd set the brown leather-bound journal embossed with the word “Believe” on the front. Simple and masculine, it was perfect for Jax and this particular project. If he stopped by, she planned to give it to him.

Why she cared whether or not he brought his son by the shop, she couldn't say. Seriously, she'd spent a whopping hour with the man. Half of that time, she'd been blabbering on, making a fool of herself. Why in the world did she want to see him again? Yes, he'd been easy on the eyes—very easy—but she'd learned that particular lesson, hadn't she?

Maybe because he'd blabbered on, too?

He'd seemed so genuinely worried about his son. He'd seemed so genuine, period. Maybe she'd needed to be reminded that genuine men do exist after Landon the Louse invaded her world yesterday.

“Genuine men do still exist” had been the message she'd written in the journal she'd chosen for herself last night—a fabric-covered, spiral-bound notebook with a hand-painted star on the cover.

Claire responded to a half-dozen e-mails before both her attention and her gaze wandered. Traffic on Third Street was beginning to pick up.

Jax would have picked his son up by now. Had he said what activity he had settled on for the afternoon? She couldn't recall.

The arrival of a new group of shoppers followed by the UPS truck provided a welcome distraction. She used paint pens to personalize seven ornaments for a grandmother from Denver and sold three Advent calendars, two snow globes, and a beautifully illustrated copy of '
Twas the Night Before Christmas.
When she checked in the delivery items, she discovered that Celeste's special order had arrived.

Jax Lancaster and his son never did.

At five o'clock, she flipped her
OPEN
sign and locked the front door. Bookkeeping and housekeeping took her another half an hour, and when she was ready to turn out the lights, she hesitated.

Celeste would be thrilled if Claire delivered the Lalique to Angel's Rest. It would be good business. While she was there, she could drop off the journal for Jax. She wouldn't ask to see him or anything. She didn't want to be a creeper. Thinking that he might use her journal each night gave the project more substance in her imaginings. And the whole thing was about imaginings, right?

She'd do it. She'd wrap it up and leave it for him.

And if part of her was aware that fussing over journals and strangers and gifts was her way to avoid dealing with the paperwork that remained on her kitchen table upstairs, well, okay. Avoidance wasn't a crime.

She wrapped the journal in the gift-wrap paper that was printed in Forever Christmas's logo—Claire was a big believer in branding—and debated a full minute over what to write on the gift tag. Finally, she signed the words “Think positive!” and her name.

Before she could second-guess herself, Claire collected the box for Celeste, deposited it and the journal into a shopping bag, and headed for Angel's Rest.

It was another beautiful midsummer evening and pleasure hummed through Claire's veins as she made her way along Cottonwood toward the footbridge that spanned Angel Creek. She felt energized and upbeat and, amazingly, her feet no longer hurt. Maybe after her errand, she'd treat herself to dinner at the Yellow Kitchen. After a plate of pasta and a couple glasses of nice wine, she might even be up to reading the contract awaiting her signature that was part of yesterday's package.

She waved at Nic Callahan, who was out taking her daily walk, sporting a growing baby bump. Nic waved back, then as she rested a maternal hand atop her belly, Claire's heart gave a little twist. She adored children and she'd always wanted a big family. Landon had told her too many lies to count, but his oft-stated desire to start a family right after the wedding had been one of the worst.

At thirty-one, Claire's biological clock was ticking and some days it sounded louder than a bass drum. She hadn't given up on her dream of having a family, but as with everything else in her life, she was in the midst of readjusting her expectations. After the debacle with Landon, she couldn't imagine ever getting married, so her dream of having a husband and three or four or even five kids wasn't in the cards.

That didn't mean she couldn't still have a family, Claire knew. A traditional family wasn't the only option available. Hadn't her childhood best friend's mother been a single mom? Mary Elizabeth Sanders had been a great mother to Claire's friend Penny, though her path had not been an easy one. Money always had been tight for the Sanderses, and it was why, when she'd been offered a promotion that required a transfer to Atlanta, Mrs. Sanders had taken the job. Penny and Claire had both been devastated. They'd promised to stay in touch with one another and to visit each other. For a time, they'd followed through.

Then six months after Penny moved, Michelle got sick. Claire had lost touch with Penny as life as she'd known it changed.

Wonder how life might have been different had she had a friend to talk to during those awful months and years? She'd been alone. Too alone, for too long.

Then, she'd picked Landon the Lizard.

“Stop thinking about him,” she muttered to herself. It was too beautiful an evening and the goal here was to focus on the positive. Right?

“Absolutely.”

So when she caught a whiff of fragrance drifting on the evening air, she decided to take the long way to her destination and stop and smell the roses. Literally. It would give her something positive to write in her journal, and besides, she was a sucker for flowers.

Angel's Rest boasted an extensive rose garden with one section of Peace roses designated as a memorial garden. A fabulous carved wooden bench provided a place to sit and bask in the beauty and tranquility of the spot, and Claire might have done just that had she not spied Jax Lancaster standing beside the creek, his hands shoved into his pockets. A pair of fishing poles lay at his feet. A young boy—Nicholas, she assumed—stood about ten feet away, his position a copy of his father's. Neither one appeared too comfortable.

Claire hesitated. Maybe she should pretend she hadn't seen them and go on up to the house and drop off her packages. She didn't want him to think she was stalking him.

Even as she prepared to turn and continue along her way, Jax's head swiveled around. He wore sunglasses, so she couldn't see his eyes. Nevertheless, she sensed that his gaze had locked onto hers. He smiled and waved at her to join him. A bit desperately, she thought.

“Claire!” he called. “This is a nice surprise.”

The boy looked around. Dressed in jeans and a red Rocking L Summer Camp T-shirt, he wore black-framed glasses with thick lenses and his blond hair could use a trim. The owlish glasses and slight physique gave him a nerdy look that Claire found endearing, but the scuffs on his sneakers and grime on his jeans declared he was all boy.

He glanced from Claire back to his father and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Jax didn't seem to notice.

“Claire, come meet my son, Nicholas. Son, this is Ms.… Branham, wasn't it?”

“Yes.” She stepped forward and offered Nicholas her hand. “It's very nice to meet you, Nicholas. Your father told me you've been a camper at the Rocking L. I hear it's a wonderful place. My neighbor is our veterinarian here in town and she volunteers up there. Have you met Dr. Murphy?”

“Dr. Lori?” His expression brightened, chasing away the suspicion. He held out his hand and shook hers politely. “I love Dr. Lori. She's the nicest person. She knows everything about dogs.” His little brow wrinkled as a thought occurred to him. “She's your neighbor? You didn't come here with my dad? You're not his girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” Claire repeated, confused.

“My mom had a boyfriend and then she married my stepdad. He didn't want me.”

Oh. Claire wanted to wrap her arms around the little guy and give him a hard hug.

“I don't have a girlfriend, Nicholas,” Jax said, a sharp note to his voice. “I met Ms. Branham after I arrived in Eternity Springs last night.”

“Oh. Okay.” The boy shuffled in embarrassment as an awkward silence fell.

Claire spoke up brightly. “I live in Eternity Springs, Nicholas. I run a Christmas shop. See?” She help up her bag and gave it a little shake. “Forever Christmas. In fact I'm bringing a gift to…”

Claire's voice trailed off when she saw Nicholas's gaze lock on the bag, his eyes going round as ornament balls on one of her trees, his complexion draining of color. “Oh.” He took a step backward. “Oh. I … I…” He took another step back. “I gotta … gotta … I'm outta worms. Dad, I'm gonna go dig for more worms, okay?”

Without waiting for his father's permission, he turned and ran. Claire stood staring after him, her jaw agape. Jax raked his fingers through his hair as he watched his son flee, his expression stark and a little lost. “What just happened?” Claire asked. “I scared him. How did I scare him?”

“It wasn't you,” Jax responded, a heavy sigh in his voice. “It was the bag.”

“It's a paper bag. What does he think is in it?” Claire had a vivid imagination, and now it took off, bringing her to an ugly place. Jax had told her his ex-wife had died. That losing her had damaged their son. What if he'd meant it literally? What if Nicholas had been with his mother when it happened? What if the former Mrs. Lancaster had been a victim of violence?

She could see it now.

The beautiful blonde—because a hottie like Jax Lancaster would marry a beautiful blonde—walks through the mall, holding her son's hand. They've just left the food court where she treated Nicholas to a rare soft drink and he slurps from the straw as he attempts to wring every last bit of sweetness from the cup. Then, suddenly, his mother gasps. He looks up to see two men dressed all in black. The first man is pointed away from Nicholas. He's holding a shopping bag that suddenly drops to the floor.

The second man faces mother and son. He pulls something long and dark from his shopping bag. A gun. He points it toward the Lancasters. The beautiful blonde steps in front of her son as shots ring out.

Jax's voice interrupted her imaginings. “It's not the inside of the bag. It's what's on the outside.”

Claire studied the shopping bag she carried. It was the store's usual printed bag. Nothing had spilled on it. “I don't understand.”

“It's Christmas.”

“Forever Christmas,” she corrected. “My logo.”

“It's a great logo. Great design. I'll bet people use your shopping bags as gift bags. Great advertising for you, I'm sure.”

“I scared Nicholas with a logo?”

“The gift bag. Red and green gift bags are a part of Nicholas's nightmare.” Jax kept his gaze trained on his son as he rubbed the back of his neck. “The kid suffered a seriously traumatic experience when his mother died. It's a long story and not a pretty one, but the bottom line is that Nicholas associates his terror with Christmas. All things Christmas. ‘Festivalisophobia' is a term sometimes used. The slightest thing can set him off.”

“Oh. Oh, no. That's horrible. So the sights and sounds of the holidays…”

“Trigger his fears.”

The repercussions of such a scenario spun through her head. “December must be miserable for him.”

“Not just December. Stores start rolling out the ribbon and wrapping and music earlier every year. Nicholas's grandfather told me he took the boy into a big-box hardware store in September and walked right into an inflatable Santa Claus. He fainted, Claire. Passed out in front of the paint counter.”

“Oh, that's heartbreaking. What can you do to help him?”

“I'm willing to try anything and everything. He's working with the best child psychologist in Seattle. He'll be going to private school this fall in a setting where we can control what he's exposed to. The hope is that with another year of counseling, he'll overcome the aversion before it's time to start school in September of next year.”

Claire followed the path of Jax's gaze to the spot some fifty feet or so away where Nicholas was down on his knees digging with a garden trowel. Poor little guy. “That must be so hard.”

“He breaks my heart. It hasn't helped that my obligation to the navy kept me from being there for Nicholas when he needed me. I'm hoping that now that I'm able to be a full-time father, he'll feel more secure and that will help. He did make some excellent progress while he was here at summer camp.”

“It's Eternity Springs. I'm telling you, it's a magical place.”

“Well, you said the magic word when you mentioned your veterinarian's name. She and the swim instructor—a guy named Chase—worked wonders with my son. They helped Nicholas overcome his cynophobia.”

“I don't know what that is.”

“Fear of dogs. That has been another issue—all arising from the same event.” Sighing, he added, “He's been so happy here that I'm afraid he doesn't want to leave. We had a … discussion … about it shortly before you arrived.”

Hence the fists shoved into pants pockets, she deduced. “I think there is another, shorter session of camp coming up. Some of the local kiddos attend it as day camp. If the Rocking L has been that beneficial for Nicholas, perhaps the Davenports would make a spot for him.”

Jax's mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I'm afraid Nicholas is thinking longer than a week or two. He wants to move to Eternity Springs.”

Claire blinked. Her heart leaped, followed almost immediately by panic.
Wait one minute. Jax Lancaster can't move here. He's my fantasy man. The guy who's honorable and sexy and a good family man. He's supposed to be safe! Safe and far away. So I can fantasize about him.