Jingle Bell Blessings (8 page)

Chloe stared back at him, her lips trembling, her chest rising in short gasps.

Digging his heels in, he sprang from the swing. Not looking back, he disappeared out into the darkness. The comfort he had thought to offer had become his own. And now, it rose up in challenge.

Tempted by a harvest moon, he had betrayed the woman he had vowed to love forever. And he could never let it happen again.

 

The annual holiday bazaar was held on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Established to raise money for those in need
during the Christmas season, the craft fair filled Rosewood's park. People used the occasion to buy Christmas gifts, knowing the money was going to a worthy cause.

Chloe and Jimmy strolled through the mazes of booths, display tables and games. Not surprisingly, Jimmy wanted to play the games first. A scaled-down basketball toss appealed to him the most. Concentrating fiercely, Jimmy sunk three out of eight hoops. As a result, he had his choice of the second level of prizes. Again, his small face scrunched in thought. Finally, he picked a mug with the picture of a fish on its side. It seemed like an unusual choice for a small boy, but Chloe didn't want to say so. Maybe it reminded him of their fishing trip.

Their next stop was at the hat booth. From ball caps to an eccentric jester's hat with its jingling bell-tipped, floppy purple and gold arms, the shelves were crammed with novelty gear. Chloe tried on a sparkly green top hat that would be perfect for St. Patrick's day. Modeling it for Jimmy, she tipped to one side and bowed. He giggled and asked the vendor if he could try on a giant cowboy hat. The man obliged with a wink to Chloe.

Jimmy stuck it on his head, but the hat dwarfed his head, completely covering his face. “Nah, don't fit,” he mumbled through the felt sides.

Laughing, Chloe spotted a smaller version. “How 'bout this one, pardner?”

The second one fit perfectly.

“Do you like it, Jimmy?”

“It's cool!”

Chloe dug in her wallet, handing the vendor some money.

“Don't we have to win it?” Jimmy asked.

“Not at this booth,” she explained, accepting her change.

They walked on, pausing to toss pennies into glass milk
bottles. Next, when they watched a balloon being twisted to resemble a dog, she cringed at the grating squeak, but smiled at Jimmy's grin when the clown handed the dog to him.

Reaching the area with handcrafted gifts, Chloe gazed around in delight. Piles of afghans, crocheted booties, children's clothing, knitted blankets, embroidered tablecloths and hand towels filled several tables. Booths displayed handmade jewelry, carved wooden boxes, metal sculptures, paintings, custom-molded candles, cakes, pies, cookies, ribbon-tied bags of homemade chocolates and other candies.

And the aromas! Every spare inch of the perimeter was crammed with food vendors of all kinds. Good old American hotdogs, cotton candy, popcorn, pizza, corn dogs, frozen bananas dipped in chocolate, hamburgers, funnel cakes, candied apples, and even deep fried dill pickles.

There was a long line at the bratwurst booth. Homemade sausage and sauerkraut in a bun was tempting, but then Chloe spotted kolaches advertised across the aisle. Milwaukee had also been settled in large part by German and Czech immigrants. Some of the German, Romanian and Hungarian areas still retained their ethnic identities. The Czechs had introduced their flavorful sweet and savory filled pockets of dough, kolaches, that remained popular. The savory sausage or ham kolaches made a meal. Various fruits as well as a cheesecake-like cream cheese filled the sweet ones. Apparently, they were equally popular in the hill country.

Her stomach rumbled, alerted by her inner cravings radar and they wandered closer.

“Jimmy, we have to try one.” She read the selection. “I don't know how I'm going to decide.” Eventually, they settled on cherry for Jimmy and cream cheese for her.

Finding one of many benches dotting the park, they settled down to eat their treats.

“Good?” Chloe asked.

He nodded vigorously.

They savored the kolaches while Chloe indulged in people watching. Lifting her gaze from a pair of adorable preschool-aged twin girls, she spotted Grace Brady approaching.

“Look! It's the nice teacher lady!” Jimmy exclaimed.

And she was. Grace had been kind, helpful and nonjudgmental about Chloe's mission to place Jimmy with an unwilling Evan. Grace saw them and waved. Jimmy hopped up, Chloe only seconds behind.

“Hi, you two! Enjoying the bazaar?”

“Completely! We just devoured kolaches. Honestly, I can just read the menu and I'm starving. It was terrible trying to pick just one.”

Grace groaned, holding one hand to her stomach. “Same problem. I just left the popcorn booth. There are about a jillion flavors. I started out with cheddar cheese, then wound up stuffing myself with the white chocolate kind.”

Chloe laughed. “Looks like we're going to have to visit there, Jimmy.”

“Oh, and don't miss the booth with the oil essences. They mix whichever one you like into a natural sea salt scrub. My hands are so soft.” She held them up, revealing a long, jagged scar. “Even around the scar tissue,” she added unselfconsciously.

Gordon had told her about Grace's past after they met her at school that first day, moving Chloe to tears. Grace had been involved in a horrific car accident, resulting in devastating injuries. She had sacrificed herself by driving into a concrete barrier when another driver drifted into her lane, coming at her head on. If she hadn't, he and his family would have been killed. But Grace had paid a terrible price. In addition to internal injuries, one side of her face had been destroyed and her hands shattered. That was how she had met her husband, plastic surgeon Noah Brady. Fortunately, the
multiple surgeries she had endured were successful. Grace's face showed no sign of what she had been through. All that visibly remained was the scar on her hand. Gordon said she had chosen to leave it to remind herself of what it had taken to bring her back to the Lord. Chloe thought it took an incredible person to come to that conclusion instead of self-pity.

Grace bent down to Jimmy's level. “How are you liking school?”

“It's okay,” he replied with a shy smile.

“You know, I'm kind of new there, too. I just started teaching again when my little girl, Susie, was old enough for kindergarten, and that was the beginning of this school year.” She straightened up, speaking to Chloe. “The school administration's been so great about it, adjusting my schedule to fit with Susie's. And it's nice to be able to peek in her classroom every little bit. Although she's just like her father, ready to tackle anything.”

Chloe appreciated her new friend's kindness. Grace had peeked into Jimmy's room as well to make sure he was adjusting all right. At church, she had assured Chloe that he was getting on as well as he claimed. It put a portion of her anxiety to rest.

“Did you see Evan's booth yet?” Grace asked Jimmy.

“He has a booth?” Chloe was amazed. And uneasy. They had avoided each other since Thanksgiving night. But she couldn't rid her thoughts of their kiss. Replaying the moment over and over, she shivered each time at just the thought.

“It's for Mitchell Stone, but Evan always mans it. Except, of course, when…” She stopped abruptly, snapping her lips closed. Her look was apologetic.

Another circled wagon.
Chloe longed to ask what Grace had left unsaid, but she couldn't in front of Jimmy.

He tugged at her sleeve. “Can we see Evan's booth?”

“I suppose so.” She forced her voice to brighten, deciding
she would act as though the kiss had never happened. “I'm sure we'll find it easily enough.”

“Great to see you.” Grace bent to Jimmy's level again.

“Have a good time today.”

Chloe and Jimmy strolled down the paths between displays, booths and vendors. It didn't take long to find Evan. A chronological history of Mitchell Stone in pictures papered the wall behind him. Generations of Mitchells, from a man standing next to the quarry with a pick ax to the present-day corporation. A wide shelf held a collection of exotic-looking gems. And all sorts of rocks filled the tables. Raw, beautiful chunks of amethyst sat next to elegantly carved onyx bookends.

Evan accepted the money for a set of intricately carved jade figurines from a pleased-looking couple, then stuffed the bills in a cash box. Glancing up, he saw them. His expression wavered between surprise and caution.

“We came to see your booth,” Chloe began.

“Cool! Rocks!” Jimmy declared, pressing close to the stone display.

“Nice hat,” Evan replied. He had taken a break to grab a soda when he'd seen Chloe and Jimmy trying on hats. She was completely natural and unaffected as she modeled some crazy green number, grinning and making faces at the youngster. Without the serious agenda she usually wore like an ever-present overcoat, Chloe appeared younger, more fun. It was a side to Chloe that Evan had never seen.

Jimmy plunked down a mug with the picture of a magnificent trout on its side. “Look what I won you, Evan!”

Taken aback, Evan looked at the boy. Apparently equally surprised, Chloe stared at them both.

“That's awful nice, but don't you want it for yourself?”

“Nuh-uh. It's 'cause you helped me catch the fish.”

The boy grinned, waiting for a response.

“Nicest mug I've ever seen,” Evan declared, his voice husky. “And I'll think about you whenever I drink a fish, I mean some coffee.”

Jimmy giggled.

Not knowing what else to say, Evan placed the mug on the top display shelf where it wouldn't get damaged.

Chloe apparently sensed the awkward gap. “Look at this pretty rock, Jimmy.” She gestured toward a huge amethyst.

Back on familiar ground, Evan touched the raw edge which had been cut to reveal the beauty of the stone's interior. “That's a fine example of amethyst. See how deep the purple color is?”

Fascinated, Jimmy nodded.

Evan turned and picked up another heavy rock, lifting it as though it weighed no more than an egg. Chloe watched the play of his muscles beneath his shirt. He might work in an office, but the fact couldn't be proved by his physique.

“This is the same kind of stone.” He pointed to the pale lavender striping. “This color isn't as valuable as the deeper purple.”

Brow furrowed, Chloe studied the rock alongside Jimmy. “I didn't know that.”

“Amethyst is a fairly common gem—it's a form of quartz.”

Unaccountably nervous, trying not to think of their time together during Thanksgiving evening on the porch, Chloe fiddled with some small stones he had scattered around the table. Her fingers closed around a green one.

“That's a moss agate,” Evan told her.

“Because it's green?”

“Could be red or black and still be classified as moss. There are several types of agate.” He picked up a rust-colored stone cut and polished into an egg shape. “This is banded agate. See the distinct layers?” He indicated the white stripes
that went around the carved egg. Then he turned, pointing to the large bookends she had admired. “Onyx is a form of agate.”

Chloe shifted the stone in her hand, wondering if she could identify it again.

“Are those ones for sale?” Jimmy asked hopefully, looking over the array of small specimens.

“Which one do you like?” Evan queried.

Jimmy carefully studied each rock, finally settling on a smooth, polished, oblong-shaped stone.

Evan picked it up. “Good choice. Obsidian.”

“Because it's black?” Chloe asked.

“They're usually black, but they can be red, brown. Green is rare.” Evan studied the stone. “But actually they can even be clear.”

“Do they come from your quarry?” Jimmy asked, palming the smooth stone.

“Nope. The quarry you saw is limestone. We own granite quarries, too. When granite is mined, it comes out in big, heavy pieces that are cut in to slabs. Obsidian comes out of lava flows and can be massive. Most precious jewels aren't that big.”

“From lava flows?” Chloe asked, intrigued.

“It forms when viscous lava from volcanoes cools rapidly. It's about seventy percent silica.”

Impressed, Jimmy stared up at him. “How do you know that?”

“In college, I studied geology. That's an earth science.”

“We have science in school!”

“I loved science, and my dad taught me all about the rock business.”

“So, you're a geologist?” Chloe questioned, as drawn in as Jimmy.

“I graduated with a double major—geology and business administration.”

Made perfect sense.
Impressed, Chloe toyed with the stone she still gripped. “Why do you have a booth at this fair?”

“To raise money for the town. People are always looking for unique gifts.” Evan shrugged. “We like to do our part.”

So much about this man was pulling Chloe in. Dangerously so. She had seen sides of him she wouldn't have believed existed only a few short weeks earlier. But which one was he? The hard man who could brusquely say no to a child? Or the one who took an interest in anyone who needed help?

And, what was his secret? The one everyone guarded so ferociously. A chill raced through Chloe. Could his secret be enough to convince her Evan wasn't the man who should take Jimmy in?

O
n Monday morning, entering Mitchell Stone, Chloe felt as nervous as she had on the first day of her first job. Jimmy was safely at school, she reminded herself. And, at the moment, Chloe wished she could join him.

“Chloe!” Perry Perkin greeted her cheerfully. “So, you didn't get scared off the idea over the weekend, I see.”

“I need to keep busy,” she replied, verbalizing the self-talk she had been reciting all morning.

“What's the majority of your background?”

She hesitated briefly. “Legal.”

His eyebrows lifted a fraction. “What we need isn't nearly as exciting. To begin with, there's a mountain of filing.”

“That's what I started out doing years ago. I don't mind.” Actually, it was a good way to discover what the company was about. Learning the in and outs of filing systems had helped her leapfrog from general clerk to receptionist and eventually executive secretary at the law firm. A lot of businesses didn't employ secretaries as much any more. But, fortunately, in the legal profession, they were still in demand.

Perkin led her down the wide hall to a good-sized room. “Company started out with a half a dozen file cabinets, then moved the records into one cramped room. Even though we're
supposed to be going paperless in this country, it hasn't happened yet. In addition to this file room, there's one upstairs on the second floor as well.” Perry turned down another hall. “Let's head over this way.” First he pointed out his own office and reminded Chloe where Evan's was. Then Perry showed her the cozy employee break room which had a microwave, dishwasher, snack machines, tables and comfortable-looking chairs. A long, overstuffed couch lined one wall. Perry opened the refrigerator, which was stocked with soda and juice, all free to the employees. As was coffee and tea.

“This is generous,” Chloe commented, noticing a box of donuts on the counter.

“Treat people like you want to be treated and they're happier employees.”

“Too bad all companies don't feel that way.”

Perkin smiled with a touch of bemused exasperation. “Not even the economy tanking a few years ago could make Evan cut down any employee benefits or perks. I admire his ethics, but as the financial officer it does keep me up nights.”

So, Evan had been completely truthful when he had told her about the company's financial difficulties. Initially, she had thought it was a convenient excuse—but, once again, the fact was reaffirmed.

Perkin showed her around, introducing Chloe to the receptionist, account managers, clerks and the office manager, Viola, who was going to train her.

“You'll meet production employees as they happen by,” Perry explained. “Even though they work at the quarry, most stop by once in a while. Did you meet anyone on your tour?”

“Not really,” she admitted, trying to tactfully phrase her explanation. “It was a rather quick tour.”

He grinned, then glanced down the hall. “Here comes Viola now. If you need anything, let me know. You know
where my office is and my extension is two-fifty-nine. There's a phone on every desk. We appreciate this, Chloe.”

“My pleasure.”

Viola, a cheerful woman in her early forties, made it clear she was delighted with the help. “You are a real trouper agreeing to tackle this filing.”

“I can practically file in my sleep.” Chloe grinned. “Not that I will.”

Viola spent more than an hour outlining the basics of the system, then providing sorters so Chloe could begin to organize the tall stacks of invoices and correspondence. Then she showed Chloe to a desk near the window in the file area. “There's plenty of room to stow your purse and anything else you want to in the bottom desk drawer. Melanie cleared out her things before she left. I know she'll appreciate this. She really needs the job.”

“That's what I heard. Since I'm in the same position with my own job, I completely understand.”

Viola studied her for a moment. “Good then. There's a hook behind the door for your coat. I know Perry showed you around, but if you can't find something, just holler, okay?”

“Absolutely.” Accustomed to working on her own for the senior partner of a large firm, Chloe had no problem understanding the system. And, as she sorted correspondence, she read Mitchell Stone's recent history. It seemed that Evan was working on a large deal that might be important. She hoped so. Not just for his sake, but for his employees. Chloe hated to think of anyone losing their job. She knew Evan wasn't the only employer who worried about his people, but too many cut employees rather than profits.

Several hours passed as Chloe categorized papers, dividing invoices to be filed in the numbered sorter by date, and correspondence to fit in an alphabetical one. It was a fairly big job and would probably take several days. And, of course,
more paperwork was constantly being generated. She glanced at her watch. Time to go pick up Jimmy.

Gathering her purse and sweater, Chloe stopped by Viola's office to let her know she was leaving. “Oh, and I left the sorters on the desk so I can pick up tomorrow where I left off.”

Viola looked relieved. “I should have explained that the rest of us are sharing Melanie's job. So, there is more to do than just filing, hopefully something more interesting.”

“No complaints. I've yet to have an office job with absolutely no filing. I still file private and privileged correspondence in my job.”

Viola looked at her strangely. “As an estate representative?”

Chloe bit her lip, wishing she didn't have to conceal her real job. “Estate work involves legal work, so…” She shifted her purse. “Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Good. And thanks again.”

It took all of her control not to rush from the building. She had no talent for guile. Growing up with strict guidelines about telling the truth, misrepresenting herself was straining her nerves. Mr. Wainwright had articulated her mission as part of her ever-evolving job. But she didn't want to deceive these people. All of them had been kind and open with her.

Well. Almost all of them.

No one wanted to tell her about Evan's secret, perhaps from his past. She shouldn't be thinking of his past. She needed to concentrate on Jimmy's future. But Chloe had a strong feeling that the two were inescapably entwined.

 

“We're going to put stars and sprinkles and stuff on cupcakes,” Jimmy told Chloe. “Then we get to go to the house where the old people live.”

Evan noticed that Chloe seemed distracted.

“Chloe,” Jimmy repeated.

“Yes. Um…cupcakes?”

“Can we get special sprinkles to put on them?”

She tried to collect herself. “I'm sure we can.”

“When?”

“When do you need them?”

“Tomorrow.” Jimmy's eyes glowed with excitement. The boy was gradually losing that pinched, anxious look.

Chloe blinked. “Tomorrow?”

Evan chuckled.

Drawing her eyebrows together, she frowned at him.

Coughing to disguise his laughter, Evan realized that for Chloe, not having children of her own, being with Jimmy day and night was a baptism by fire.

Chloe glanced at her watch. “We'd better go now, then, before everything closes. I guess the grocery store would have them—”

“And the bakery if you're in a pinch. You know where both are, don't you?”

She looked blank.

Evan wanted to smirk but the hopeful expression on Jimmy's face stopped him. Wasn't the boy's fault Chloe had dragged him to Rosewood. “We can go in my truck.”

Looking relieved, Chloe grabbed her purse. As they piled in the truck, she encouraged Jimmy to get in first. So she wouldn't have to sit next to him?

The grocery store wasn't very busy, but the aisle with baking supplies was pretty crowded. Apparently, a few other kids in the first grade hadn't told their parents about cupcake decorating until the last minute as well.

Robin used to make the holiday season stretch out as long as possible. She baked over a dozen different kinds of cookies, but the most special times had been the ones when Sean helped her decorate. They'd had an entire arsenal of
decorating supplies from chocolate sprinkles to pearl nonpareils. Robin had amassed a large collection of cookie cutters for every holiday of the year, but the copper Christmas ones were the most special. Lofty stars, elegant angels, and all the members of the nativity. Her cookie crêche had always been a marvel. Just as she had been.

Despite the time that had passed, the loss pierced fresh and new. This was the time of year for Evan to count his blessings, to be grateful to God for all he'd been given. If he hadn't been standing in the middle of the grocery store, Evan would have asked the Lord yet again why He'd had to take them. Unexpectedly, Evan felt a tug on his cuff.

“What's your favorite?” Jimmy asked.

Evan tried to concentrate. “I like the dragees—the little silver balls. But the colored sugar's good, too.”

“I used to eat the little red cinnamon dots when we decorated cookies,” Chloe confessed. “By the time we got to the gingerbread men, my mother would pull out the extra bag she had set aside, well, actually hidden, because she knew I'd nibble on too many every time.”

“The sprinkles fall off sometimes.” Jimmy looked suddenly worried.

“We'll buy enough to have plenty of extra ones,” Chloe assured him. “They still have lots of colors left in the sugars. My mother said they used to only have red and green.”

“How come?”

“People keep finding out new ways to make our favorite things even better. Personally, I like the pink-colored sugar.”

Evan withheld a chuckle.

Chloe looked over a woman's shoulder at the display. It was a good selection. Bottles of sprinkles, lots of kinds—stars, hearts, confetti, tiny nonpareils. Then she had a thought. “Are we supposed to bring the frosting?”

Jimmy shrugged his thin shoulders.

She scratched her head. “I'd better get cream cheese, powdered sugar, butter, vanilla—”

“I imagine Thelma has most of that in the pantry,” Evan interrupted.

“Even so, she may have plans for her ingredients. This
is
the baking season.”

So it seemed. Women were studying most every product in the aisle. A few men acted baffled as they searched for items on their lists.

“Could you stay with Jimmy while I collect the frosting ingredients?”

Evan wanted to refuse. Intended to. Then Jimmy looked up at him expectantly.

“Sure.”

While Chloe disappeared into the land of cream cheese, he and Jimmy debated the merits of the decorating options, ultimately choosing almost every single kind. All but the pink. Then Jimmy's hand strayed back toward the bottle of pink sugar crystals. “Maybe I should make a pink one for Chloe.”

It was the kind of gesture Sean would have made. Evan resented the sudden lump in his throat.

“Is that okay?” Jimmy asked.

He could only nod. Even though his father had opened the family home to Chloe and Jimmy, Evan wondered how much longer he could bear it. The memories flooded more often, more completely each day. After the accident, Evan had immersed himself in memories, clinging to each and every one. But then he had begun to push them away, to escape the pain. The pushing allowed him to cope, to function. Yet he didn't want to forget a single detail about either of them. But he had found himself studying Robin's photo more often
lately, realizing her face had begun blurring in his memory. How, he couldn't understand. Yet it had.

“My goodness!” Chloe announced. “I thought you were going to
choose
some decorations.”

Evan felt the need to get away. From Chloe. From Jimmy. From everything they were making him feel. “We did,” he replied shortly.

She looked surprised. Not waiting to hear if she had anything to add, he wheeled the basket toward the checkout stand.

Refusing the guardianship, once and for all, couldn't wait any longer. He was going to speak to his father. And make him understand.

 

The following morning Gordon slept in. When Evan had returned from the grocery store with Chloe and Jimmy the previous evening, Gordon had already gone to bed. It was almost as though his father had some sort of radar alert. At the same time, Evan couldn't dispel his worry. What if his father's health was wavering?

Still, they had to talk. But Evan couldn't wait around the house until his father was up and around. First, he had a phone conference with their newest and now biggest customer. TEX-INC had just given them the largest order they had received in more than three years. TEX-INC was building several commercial complexes around the country that would house retail stores and restaurants, with a top floor of high-end condos. The consolidated concept appealed to people looking to reduce the time and cost of commuting. TEX-INC had targeted several big cities, purchasing land adjacent to the business districts. Since TEX-INC was based out of Houston, they were close enough to inspect Mitchell's materials and also have face-to-face meetings when needed.

The profit from this one order could offset more than three
years of doing business in the red. Just staying even was a success, because the smaller orders were trickling in more often now. Coupled with a few more large deals, Mitchell Stone would be back on solid footing. And, with this order, Evan hoped to get one of the large national banks onboard.

Evan clicked off the phone conference, raising two thumbs in victory. Now, Perry could make an appointment with the national bank they'd agreed on. Skirting his desk, Evan whistled as he made his way to Perry's office. Glancing in the file room, Evan thought he caught a flash of long, caramel-colored curls. He was going to have to make sure he and his father had that talk right away.

 

Chloe trudged through the front door of the Mitchell house, tired after a long walk. She had left Jimmy playing in the backyard with Bailey, watched over by Thelma. Hours of filing invoices and receivables that day had given Chloe a clearer picture of Mitchell Stone's financial state. It was even worse than she had imagined. No wonder Evan was tense. While she hadn't yet seen any ledgers, she could add quickly enough to tell the outgoing far outweighed the money coming in.