'Tis the Season: A Collection of Mimi's Christmas Books (38 page)

Once he’d left Abbie’s room, Marcus sat in one of the multitude of chairs in the hospital foyer. His clasped hands drooped between his knees, and his head hung low.

I can’t go back in there, he thought, even though every fibre of his being demanded he return to the woman he loved and smooth over the way he’d left her so abruptly. How am I ever going to pretend what I feel for her is brotherly? It’s all I can do to keep my hands off the little darling. Why, in all that’s holy, did you have me finally fall in love with the perfect creature, Lord, and then play silly buggers with our future? What the hell was all that magic for, if not to bring us together? I’ll never understand how you could
be so cruel. Never!

Knowing his mother as well as he did, especially after being in such close contact with her for the last few months, he understood that once she’d made up her mind, she would confess her guilty little secret to everyone within miles. Then she’d force Abbie to accept them as family, probably try to force her to live with them and be a part of their lives. Which would be only right and fair. But no way could he stick around and be a part of their reunion. As much as he cared for both of them, it would be beyond his ability. The best solution would be for him to make plans to leave the area, and soon.

A pity, really, because he’d come to care about Bury and the people who lived here. Life in this quaint place could be everything a man would ever need, living and working with these wonderful folks, satisfying and rewarding.

But it wasn’t to be.

He sighed and shook his lowered head. A peculiar noise made him look up, and he knew his smile to be rather twisted. Windows in the hospital’s entrance looked out onto one of the main streets. There goes our soon-to-be Joseph, Marcus thought, playing his role and acting like a ruddy toff. Frank, wrapped warmly in a red scarf and thick coat, drove his sleigh past the building. The horse, decked out for the holidays with a fancy wreath around its neck and streamers twisted in his mane, passed the small hospital’s turn-off with bells jingling and hooves clopping.

Nostalgia for the night he’d first met Abbie prodded Marcus’ scrambled wits and made him wish they’d met under different circumstances. But that way of thinking didn’t last too long. Giving up what they’d shared was inconceivable. He’d remember their mystical encounter forever. With a groan, he stood and ambled slowly toward the door.

Today was a day in a million. Blue skies dominated overhead. Rays of luminous intensity from the sunshine added a magical brilliance to the snow, yet the icicles hanging from the various trees and bushes weren’t melting due to the temperatures hovering at freezing. Other than driving difficulties, the townspeople seemed to be enjoying the weather. In the distance, on a slight incline behind a few of the buildings, Marcus made out some children sliding and enjoying their holiday from school. They reminded him of Cece and Nicholas. Feeling like an old man, he put on his gloves and left.

The first thing he noticed when he arrived at Holly Mount was the absence of anyone in the hallway. Usually there were children running around, or one of the Sisters to greet him. But today no one appeared. In the distance he heard music and decided to follow the sounds. When he got to the auditorium, he stood transfixed.

On a small stage, surrounded by others her age, stood Cece, singing her little heart out. By the sounds emerging, a future musical career would be unlikely, but if enthusiasm, acting ability, and stage presence were to be taken into consideration, she could be a star. The darling tot waved her arms all around, and when she hit a particularly high note, or at least tried to, they flung wide as if she were trying to wrap them around everyone in the audience. “Away in a Manger” never sounded better to him.

As he stood transfixed, something clicked inside his heart, a door opened wide, and pride such as he’d never known before gushed straight from his heart, flowing directly toward the princess on stage. He felt it shining from his eyes and right through the silly wide grin on his face.
So this is what parents feel like when their children make them proud.
He wanted more of this joy, a lifetime more.

At the end of her song, he couldn’t help himself. His hands, of their own accord, clapped and brought everyone’s attention his way. Embarrassment followed and, like a fool, he stopped and quickly stuck his hands behind his back.

“Mr. Chapman, you’re here.” Cece had seen him and, picking up the long skirts of her costume, she ran and flung herself in his direction, obviously trusting him to catch her in his arms. Which he did, gladly. “Did you like my singing? I didn’t make any mistakes this time, did I, Sister?” She turned in his hold to direct her question at Sister Agnes, approaching with baby Nicholas, who for once lay quietly in her arms.

“Bless you, Cece, you were jolly good. Not one wrong word. Even Nicholas behaved like a perfect little gentleman while you sang. We’re very proud of you.” Nicholas, who’d spied Marcus, made such a fuss that he forced everyone’s attention his way. Both hands were lifted toward Marcus and a beatific smile lit up his features.

“Nicholas, settle down,” said Sister Agnes, trying to control the squirming, strong-minded child. “I’m sorry, Mr. Chapman. He’s been fussing for so long, we decided that if he could be with Cece and the others, he might behave. And it worked brilliantly. But once he sees you, I’m afraid nothing will do but for you to carry him.”

Cece broke in before Marcus could reply. “That’s all right, Sister. Mr. Chapman has two arms. Don’t you, sir?”

“Yes, I most certainly do, little miss. Now come here, big guy and settle down. Poor Sister is getting pummelled by your shenanigans.” So saying, he reached out and snagged Nicholas against his chest and nestled him into his arm as if it were an easy chair.

Cece reached for the baby’s hands and said, “Did you like my singing, Nicky? I’m
rehervesing
for Abbie.”

Sister broke in, a smile she couldn’t hide plastered across her face. “You mean rehearsing, Cece.”

“Uh-huh. Rehearsing. Do you think she’ll like my song?” This time she aimed her question at Marcus, who answered with no doubts in his mind. “She’ll love your song, Cece. I promise. She can’t wait to see you, all of you.”

“She’s better? That means she’s better?”

“Yes, she’s much better. If the doctors agree, she’ll be at the church hall tomorrow, watching your concert and loving every minute. It’s not every day she gets to see a star perform, now, is it?” He tapped his forehead lightly against Cece’s.

With a pat for his cheek and a wiggle indicating her wishes, he set her back on her feet. “I must go and
reherverse
more. I want to be perfect.”

“Oh, my angel, you don’t need
reherversing
. You already are perfect.” A cleared throat made him turn back to the watchful Sister with the knowing gleam in her eye. “You’re quite taken with our little Cece, and with Nicholas, Mr. Chapman. They are wonderful children, both of them, and would make any family proud.”

He heard the hint and wished he could answer her veiled question in the manner his heart wanted. But he couldn’t, not with the way his life had spun out of control lately. A small snore caught his attention, and they both looked down to see Nicholas fast asleep. “I’ll go and sit with him in the nursery alcove, shall I? Maybe he can get some uninterrupted sleep, and you can get on with other chores instead of having to deal with the noisy little blighter.”

“Good idea. I’ll make sure everyone is aware you’ll be in there, so we don’t disturb you. And thank you, Mr. Chapman. You’re a good man.”

An hour later, when the nun went to check, both man and baby boy were fast asleep in the rocking chair. The reddish-gold tendrils of soft hair on the head of the small child lay against the whiskered cheek of the slouching man, who’d seemed rather upset about something today. She’d sensed his misery, and the sadness lurking in his eyes had given her verification. There was nothing she could do about it, though, so it was best to let things alone. The sight of the two males brought a smile to the nun’s face and a prayer to her lips as she slipped out of the room.

Chapter Seventeen

A knock on the door woke Abbie from her troubled nap. She thrust her hands through her long bangs, pushing them to the side, and tucked away the messy strands of hair that had escaped from her thick braid. Just in time, too, because the door opened before she’d had the chance to speak.

She hoped her shock didn’t show on her face. The last person she expected to see was Madeline Chapman, although why, she couldn’t say. After all, the woman had all but admitted their relationship the other night. Of course, she didn’t know that Abbie had heard her words, did she? Therefore, Abbie must pretend an indifference that she didn’t feel. Lord, but her acting abilities, or should she say lack of them, had been put to the test in these last few hours.

She steeled herself to greet Madeline as a complete stranger and attempted a lackadaisical smile. A thought popped into her head at the last moment and had her berating herself.
What makes you think she’s come to see you? Maybe she’s just lost her way.

“Hello. Are you here to call upon someone?” Dismayed, she realized her voice sounded strained.

“I’m most terribly sorry to be a bother, Abbie, but, actually, it’s you I’ve come to see. I’ve brought other visitors, also. That’s if you’re up to company at the moment?” The paleness and anxiety in Madeline’s face nearly broke Abbie’s heart.
This must be so very difficult for the distressed woman. I’ll make it as easy as I can for the poor dear.

“How very kind of you. I’m perfectly fine and would love a chat. Doctors are optimistic that I’ll be good as new by tomorrow. In fact, I feel a bit of a cheat, taking up one of their beds.”

Shock filled Madeline’s face. “But of course you should be in bed. You were in a coma when I left town, and the nurses say you’ve only just recovered. I’m not sure how much you remember, but it was my son, Marcus Chapman, who brought you to the vicar after you passed out.”

“Yes, I remember him. I’d been covering the roses, and he stopped to help me. Then I fell, and I can’t remember anything else.”

“He carried you into the vicarage, and they managed to get you to hospital. The nurses told us just now that it was Marcus who called in Dr. Andrews, and that he turned out to be the magician who unravelled the mystery.”

Abbie put up her hand to cover the twitch where her lips doggedly tried to grin. Unknown to the other woman, the words about mystery and magic had scratched at Abbie’s funny bone, and it took biting her lip to stop from giggling out loud. Under control at last, she answered, “Yes, he’s been wonderful.”

Recognizing Madeline’s discomfort and the reason for it, Abbie waited while the other woman played for time and inspected the room, only to stop dead when her gaze came to the dazzling red bloom on the table nearest to the bed.

“May I?” She gestured to indicate her desire to come closer.

“Of course.” The amazing smell had undoubtedly caught her attention.

“Such a beautiful flower. And in the middle of winter. I love the smell of roses, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” Abbie knew chattering covered many a tense moment for others, but she had to smile. It was quite obvious she hadn’t inherited this quirk from Madeline. In moments of stress, she herself was more likely to shut down and search for answers inside.

Trying to help, Abbie put her hand out and said, “If you’re Marcus’ mother, you must be Mrs. Chapman. I’m ever so pleased to meet you.”

“Since I remarried after Marcus’ father passed on, my name is actually Chapman-Morris, but I’d rather you call me Madeline. The other is far too formal.” She stepped closer to the bed and took Abbie’s hand in her own, then squeezed rather than shook. “Love, I have something to tell you, someone for you to meet, but I must be sure you won’t be traumatized or become ill again.”

Puzzled, Abbie sat straight up and tightened her hand around that of the shaky one she held. “I can assure you I’m fine now.”
Let’s just get this over with. Put the poor dear out of her misery.
“Who has come to see me, and what is this all about?”

Madeline smiled into Abbie’s eyes, her expression lightening. On her way to the door, walking backward, she continued to chatter. “This couple has come from Paris, probably the last flight before the airport shut down due to the vicious weather, but once I told them about you, nothing would stop them.”

By then she’d gotten as far as the door and opened it, stuck her head out and called, “It’s okay to come in. She’s awake.”

Two people entered and stopped at the sight of Abbie in bed. She watched the female stranger hesitate, catch her breath, and then release a tiny sob that sounded like a gunshot in the tense silence. Both the man and the woman looked toward Madeline, as if for confirmation, and then both nodded in agreement when she signalled affirmation.

Abbie could hardly breathe. Something strange was happening, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. These people made her ache inside. Why, she didn’t know. But she’d never felt this way before.