A Christmas to Die For (24 page)

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Authors: Marta Perry

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Religious, #Christian

BOOK: A Christmas to Die For
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"It's all right." Rachel knew Andrea was trying to protect her, as she always did. "I'm over the worst of it." She couldn't suppress a shudder. "I guess I'm just lucky Jeff didn't do a better job of it back in the spring when he ran me down. I certainly never connected that to asking him for a quote on removing the gazebo."

Grams put a hand over hers, patting it gently. "How could you? I knew the man since he was a child, and I never suspected a thing."

"You seemed to give up your plans then, and I suppose they thought they were safe." Tyler rested one hand on the mantel, maybe too edgy to sit down. "Then I came and stirred them up again."

Caro brushed dark red curls back over her shoulder. Her bright, speculative gaze went from Rachel to Tyler. "Good thing you were here the other night."

"Good thing Barney was here," Tyler said dryly. The dog, hearing his name, looked up from his nap on the hearth rug and thumped his tail.

"Longstreet won't get off scot-free," Cal said. "The police know he's been behind the recent thefts of antiques. I suppose he thought it worked so well twenty years ago that he'd start it up again, with a couple of hired thugs. He apparently got nervous when you two started nosing around and tried to dissuade you. But his efforts backfired when Jeff decided he was a liability."

"He's lucky to be alive." She remembered that pool of blood around him on the office floor.

"He may not think so after the district attorney gets through with him," Tyler said. "But he'll fight it every step of the way, unlike Whitmoyer. I understand Sandra's trying to have her husband declared mentally unfit to defend himself."

She could actually feel sorry for Bradley, in a way. He'd been trapped by what happened twenty-two years ago, and all his good works hadn't been enough to make up for that.

"So the medal really didn't have anything to do with it, except that it left a trail to Phil." She'd probably be trying to figure out all the ramifications of what happened for months, but it was starting to come a little clearer.

"Funny thing about that." Tyler set his punch cup on the mantel and pulled something out of his pocket. He walked over to put it on the coffee table where they could see it. The medal. "I had it professionally cleaned. The jeweler brought up what was on the back, and did a little detective work on it."

He turned it over. Rachel leaned forward, staring at the symbol incised on the reverse. "It looks like a triangle with an eye inside it."

"Not a triangle. A pyramid. Turns out this was a symbol used by a number of odd little groups back in the late 1600s in Germany and Switzerland. Rosicrucians, Illuminati, the Order of the Rose—apparently my grandfather's ancestor was part of one. Small wonder the Amish didn't want to talk about it. They'd consider that heresy."

"But surely your grandfather didn't believe in that."

He shrugged. "I have no way of knowing. I wouldn't think so, but—" He picked the medal up again. "Somehow I don't think I want this as a memento after all. It can go back into somebody's collection. We exposed the truth about his death. That's enough for me."

There was finality in his words. Did everyone else hear it, or was she the only one? This was over. Now he would go back to his life.

"I think that cookie tray needs to be refilled." She got up quickly, before anyone else could volunteer to do it. She needed a moment to herself.

She went through to the kitchen, and when she heard a step behind her, she knew who it was.

"Are you okay?" Tyler was close, not touching.

"I guess." Talk about something, anything, other than the fact that he's leaving. "You know, if Bradley had gone to the police right away, my father wouldn't have died. But he would still have left us." She tilted her head back, looking at him. "I'm not going to lie to myself any longer about who and what he was."

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft and deep with emotion. "Sorry he's gone, and sorry he wasn't the man you wanted him to be."

"I'm all right about it. Really. It's better to have the truth out. I can't find my happiness in recreating a past that never existed. It's the love we have for each other as a family that's important, not the mistakes our parents made." She took a breath, wishing she knew what he was thinking. "At least you fulfilled your promise to your mother."

"I found out more than she intended. Knowing something about her childhood, I understand her better. Her mother died, and then her father shut her away from the only support system she had left."

"It's sad. If he hadn't taken her out of the church, the Amish would have been family for her, no matter what he did." It was such a sad story, but at least now Tyler seemed content that he'd done what he could.

"Enough of that." His gaze seemed to warm the skin of her face. "I have a gift for you, and I'd like to give it to you without the rest of your family looking on, if that's okay."

She nodded, unable to speak. Her heart seemed to be beating faster than a hummingbird's.

Tyler took something from his pocket and dangled it in front of her. "I picked this up when I ran back to Baltimore yesterday. It belonged to my father's mother. I want you to have it. Not to replace the one your father would have given you, but because—well, just because it seemed the right gift."

She touched the delicate, old-fashioned gold cross, her heart almost too full for words. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

He fastened it around her neck, his fingers brushing her nape gently. "My grandmother was like you—loving, nurturing, filled with goodness. If my father knew, he'd be happy I found someone to give it to."

Her eyes misted as she traced the graceful design. "I don't know what to say."

"Then let me say it." He took both her hands in his, lifting them to his lips. "I know there are a lot of questions to be answered about the future, and I'm not sure how it will all work out. I'll move as slowly as you want, but I know right now that I want to share the rest of my life with you."

He was being careful, not pressuring her, but there was no need. She wasn't afraid anymore of what the future held. She reached up to pull his face toward hers, seeing the love blossom in his eyes.

She'd come back to this house to find something she'd lost years earlier. God had given her not only that but much more besides. She didn't have to look for home any longer. She'd found it.

STEEPLE HILL BOOKS

ISBN: 978-1-4268-0886-9

A CHRISTMAS TO DIE FOR

Copyright © 2007 by Martha Johnson

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Steeple Hill Books.

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