Lone Star Holiday (20 page)
“Please?” Nicky responded.
Sam looked at Allison. “You sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. This is a bookstore, a place to look at books.” She held out a hand to Nicky. “Right, Nicky?”
He took her hand. “Right!” he said, jumping in place.
“Well, right this way,” Allison said with a tug on Nicky’s hand.
“Can I come, too?” Rosie said.
Allison held out her other hand. “Of course. What kind of books do you like?”
Rosie took her hand. “Princess books,” she replied with a jump of her own.
“Okay, we have those,” Allison said with an indulgent smile.
Sam shook his head. Boy, she really had a way with them.
Allison led them to a kid-size table and chairs set in the corner. “Why don’t you two sit down here at the table and I’ll get you the books you want, all right?”
Both three-year-olds immediately sat down. “’Kay,” they said in unison.
“We’ll stay here,” Rosie said.
“Yeah, right here,” Nicky added, patting the table with his chubby little hands.
Sam’s jaw fell. He could never get the twins to do much of anything at the same time, much less sit still. One of the many challenges of parenting twins. It didn’t help that his former wife, Teresa, was always criticizing everything he did. “Wow, you’ve really got the touch,” he said to Allison.
She smiled and waggled her eyebrows, then gestured at the shelves surrounding them. “No, I’ve just got the books.”
“Well, whatever you’ve got, it’s working.” Sam rubbed his jaw. “Maybe I need some pointers.”
“Ask away,” Allison said as she went to a shelf on the left side. She pulled down a large book. “I’m somewhat of an expert on kids.”
He drew his eyebrows together. “Do you have kids?” He forced himself not to look at her left ring finger.
“No, I’m not married, so no kids. But, if you remember, I took care of my younger sisters all the time when we were growing up, so I’ve got some experience.” She set the book on the table in front of Nicky.
“That’s right. You had, what, three younger siblings?”
“Just two,” she said, holding up two fingers as she went to a different shelf. “Amanda and Amy.”
“I remember now. You were the oldest, and Lori often went to your house because you had to babysit all the time.” More details came back to him. “Your parents owned the wheat spread on the outskirts of town, right?”
She pulled another book from the shelf. “Yup, and they still do.” She shrugged stiffly. “Although I don’t babysit for them anymore.”
He noticed her rigid shoulders and wondered what they signified but didn’t want to pry. Instead, he said, “Your sisters are still in high school, right?” He’d seen them around the school, but he hadn’t had either of them in class yet.
“Right. Amanda works at Sweet Dreams Bakery.”
More details materialized. “I seem to remember Lori telling me you moved away some time ago, correct?”
Allison set the book in front of Rosie. “Here you go, sweet pea.”
The endearment made his throat tight.
Allison looked up at Sam. “That’s right. I had a job opportunity in Kansas City after I graduated from high school, and I lived there until just a few months ago when I was selected by the SOS Committee to run this store.”
“You always were a book lover, weren’t you?” Another memory surfaced. “In fact, didn’t you and Lori start your own book club way back when?”
Allison’s big blue eyes went round. “You remember that?”
“I do.”
She smiled. “Good memory. Yes, I’ve always loved books.”
“You must be thrilled to have this store, then.”
She sat down next to Nicky. “Definitely. This is my dream come true, honestly. I have to make this place work.”
“Yeah, a lot’s riding on the SOS plan panning out.” Such as his job as a math teacher at the high school. If the plan didn’t right the economy in Bygones, the schools and the police force would be the first to go. In fact, Sam had already put out feelers for teaching jobs elsewhere in case the SOS plan didn’t work. Although with Teresa threatening to try to get sole custody, his future was up in the air in a lot of ways.
“I work at the high school, and my job is at risk,” he confided. They’d managed to keep the school district going since Randall Manufacturing had closed, but how much longer would funds hold out? He hoped the SOS Committee’s plan to revitalize the town with the six new stores on this block would pan out. Then his job would be safe, and he could focus on the kids.
“Yes, I realize that.” Her eyes shone with determination. “But all the other new shop owners are just as determined as I am to make this block a success.”
He shook his head. “I’m sure you all have good intentions, but I have my doubts about the SOS plan. A lot of people have already moved away, and despite the anonymous benefactor’s generosity, the town is still floundering.”
“Hopefully that will all change.”
“Well, I’m not counting on anything,” he said. “I’ve already put out feelers for other jobs.”
“Oh, no. You’re planning on moving away?”
He set his jaw. “Hopefully not. But I need a job, and I might not have one here. I have to be practical.” His life was a mess right now.
“Yes, I suppose so.” She gave him a look rife with speculation. “Who do you think the benefactor is?”
“No idea,” he said. “Whoever it is has taken great pains to stay anonymous.”
She opened her mouth to reply, then froze. “Oh!” Glancing quickly at her watch, she sprang to her feet. “It’s almost time for Story Time.”
“Story Time?” he repeated.
“I want to go to Story Time,” Rosie announced. “Please, Daddy?”
“Me, too,” Nicky said. “I like stories.” He stood, his small hands struggling to pick up the big car book Allison had brought him. “Lots.”
Allison grinned and her nose crinkled in the most appealing way. “I’m sure they’d love it.” She came closer.
The scent of peaches floated to him. He once again noticed the barest hint of freckles sprinkling her pert nose and he had to smother the urge to count every one. Words stuck in his throat. Whoa. He hadn’t ever had the urge to count anyone’s freckles...
“Whaddya say?” Allison leaned in. More peaches.
He fought the urge to inhale deeply.
At that moment, Nicky took off, shouting, “Story Time! Let’s go!”
Allison went after him, looking back, her eyes alight with excitement. “If you stay, you might get a few minutes of peace and quiet,” she said. “I’ll round him up.”
Sam cleared his throat, liking her can-do attitude. “Oh, well, sure, we’ll stay. Thanks.” Anything to keep the kids occupied, Nicky in particular. Though watching Allison wouldn’t be a chore on Sam’s part— Oh, man! Where had that thought come from?
She gave him a thumbs-up. “Great.” She disappeared around the corner bookshelf, hot on Nicky’s heels, taking her appealing peach scent with her.
Sam started breathing again.
Rosie, ever the calm little lady, sedately carried her book over and stood next to Sam. “I like her,” she said, her chubby cheeks creased with a smile. “She’s nice.”
He put his hand on Rosie’s dark hair. “I do, too, sweetie.” In another life he’d probably ask her out.
Rosie took his hand and tugged on it. “Come on, Daddy. Let’s go to Story Time!”
He let himself be led by his daughter, taking a moment to corral his thoughts, reminding himself that he wasn’t looking for any kind of romantic relationship. Teresa had cheated on him and left him for Spense. That was bad enough. Terrible, actually. But worse yet, she’d been making noises about going for full custody. At this point, fresh off a traumatic divorce, Sam was leery of romance and had, on the advice of his lawyer, chosen not to risk custody issues with any kind of dating at the moment. Nothing was worth losing his kids.
Right now his life was about his job and Nicky and Rosie. There wasn’t room for anything more. That was just the way it was, and he didn’t have the time or energy to fight the truth, much less the stomach for constant conflict with Teresa. What else could a good father do?
* * *
The story rug was right around the bookcase, tucked into the far corner of the store. Allison already had Nicky sitting on the round, fluffy, bright red rug alongside three other kids who looked to be about the twins’ age. Sam spied Allison at a bookshelf to the left, searching for a title.
Women who were obviously the moms of the kids sat in adult-size chairs lined up at the outer rim of the rug. Sam led Rosie to the rug, and then retreated to the background, wanting a bird’s-eye view of Nicky since he rarely sat still for much of anything. The kiddo had two speeds—off and way, way on—so Sam wanted to be prepared to herd him back to the rug when Nicky popped up, on to whatever caught his fickle attention.
Allison settled herself into an upholstered chair facing the kids, a book in her hands, her face glowing, her mouth formed into a brilliant smile that had his breath hitching again in a very alarming way. Even so, he felt himself automatically honing in on her pretty face, her big, expressive eyes in particular.
“Okay, story listeners, can we all quiet down, please?” She paused, her brows raised, clearly waiting for the kids to focus in on her.
After a few moments all five kids quieted and turned their attention to her. “Excellent work at listening,” she said, giving a gentle nod to each child in turn. “So. Are you all ready for a really fun story about a steam shovel?”
An excited chorus rose from the children. “Yes!”
Nicky stood up. “I love steam shovels!” he crowed, his hands in the air.
“I do, too,” Allison replied with a patient smile. “But we all have to sit crisscross applesauce on the story rug before the story can begin.”
Rosie tugged on Nicky’s arm. “Sit down, Nicky.” She pointed to her crisscross position on the floor. “See?”
Sam held his breath, hoping Nicky went against tradition and sat down, preparing himself to swoop in and take control if necessary.
Nicky jerked his arm away from his sister, defiance clear in the tilt of his chin. “Don’t boss me, Ro-Ro.”
Uh-oh. Typical conflict between the twins: Rosie trying to boss Nicky and Nicky rebelling. Sam prepared to head their way to break up the skirmish.
Allison piped in, her voice calm and soothing. “Nicky, I forgot to say that every story listener who sits quietly will get to come up here and help me turn the pages.”
Nicky’s head swung her way. “Me, too?”
“If you sit quietly, yes.” She pointed to the spot on the rug next to Rosie. “So, would you please sit down crisscross applesauce, and we’ll start the story about the steam shovel?”
Sam braced for a meltdown; it could go either way with Nicky. He was a good kid, but not as mature as Rosie, and didn’t always deal well with following directions, especially if they went against what he wanted to do. Pair that with his headstrong personality and the end result was often a messy fit that could be heard three blocks away.
“Can I help first?” Nicky asked.
Sam cringed as his son’s impatient side made an appearance. He sneaked a glance at the other moms, embarrassed, but they seemed to be taking the holdup in stride. In fact, one was texting on her cell phone and wasn’t paying any attention at all.
“Whoever sits still and is quietest gets to help first,” Allison said.
Nicky instantly plopped down. “I’ll sit.” He rested his chin on his knees.
Allison gave Nicky an approving smile. “Good choice, Nicky.” She held up the book, facing outward, and turned to the first page. “Let’s begin.”
She proceeded to read the story about Mike Mulligan and his steam shovel, Mary Anne. Sam had heard the story when he was a kid, so he was familiar with the plot, and how Mike and Mary Anne went to the country and dug the town hall basement in a day but didn’t leave themselves a ramp to get out.
Even though the story wasn’t new to him, he listened, transfixed, as Allison made the story come alive using uniquely creative voices for each of the characters. She read at just the right pace and knew how to point out relevant things in the illustrations as she narrated the story. She truly had a gift for storytelling.
All the kids listened intently, including Nicky. Partway through the book, Allison invited Nicky and a little blonde girl with curly hair to help her turn the pages. Nicky jumped up, grinning, and stood still at Allison’s side and took turns turning the pages with the little girl.
Amazed, Sam watched Nicky follow directions and share responsibility. Willingly. With his heart getting mushy, Sam let his gaze drift to Allison. She had a way with kids, no doubt about it.
His
kid in particular. She knew exactly how to handle Nicky. He only wished he could be half as patient and able as she was. Guilt shot through him and struck a familiar blow to his conscience; the divorce had been hardest on the kids.
Relaxing for a few precious moments, he let his gaze wander to Nicky and Rosie, then over to Allison. Inevitably, he thought back to his senior year in high school, when Allison had started to bloom and he’d started noticing her as more than just a friend. She may have considered herself a “gangly teenager,” but Sam now recalled when that had all started to change.
Lori had discouraged him from dating Allison, afraid it would cost them their friendship if a relationship between him and Allison didn’t work out. Besides, Lori had asked, would he remain committed to her after he went off to college? He hadn’t been sure—what eighteen-year-old guy would be?—so he’d dropped the idea, not ready to settle down. He’d gone off to college, and that had been that.
He looked at Allison now, noting her patience, kindness, ready smile and fresh, understated beauty.
And couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t made a big mistake ten years ago.
ISBN-13: 9781460320488
LONE STAR HOLIDAY
Copyright © 2013 by Jolene Navarro
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