Christmas in Eternity Springs (6 page)

Maybe she should discourage him. She could say something bad about the town. What might work?

While Claire's mind was busy drawing a blank, Jax continued, “Celeste didn't help matters any when she mentioned that there's a town ordinance forbidding the public display of Christmas decorations until after Thanksgiving.”

“That's true,” Claire said. “I had to appeal to the city council for an exception to the no-decorating rule when I decided to open my shop.”

“I tried to use Forever Christmas in my arguments with Nicholas. He knows about your shop. He said a person can avoid that part of the street in a town this small.”

“He has a point.” Claire's gaze stole toward the boy. “Eternity Springs is very traditional. Here, they don't do Black Friday. It's Deck the Halls Friday, and it's an official town festival. This town loves its festivals. Once the decorating begins, they go all out. Nicholas won't be able to avoid it.”

Jax's expression went tight with sadness and frustration. “He thinks if he lives in Eternity Springs, he'll be better by then.”

She bit her bottom lip. A boy's needs trumped her fantasies. She'd just have to let Jax Lancaster go and return to mooning over fictional characters like Nora Roberts's Roark. “In that case, maybe you should consider it.”

“Even if I wanted to move him, I can't. He's in therapy in Seattle and I need a job. My skill set is specialized. I doubt I could find work in Eternity Springs.”

“You might be surprised. What did you do in the navy?”

His mouth twisted. “I was a nuclear engineer on a sub.”

“Oh. Hmm. That
is
specialized.”

“So is the treatment plan for Nicholas, and I won't do anything to put his recovery in jeopardy.” He shoved his hands back into his pants pockets. “I just wish he and I hadn't gotten off to such a rocky start today. It's not what I'd hoped for when I got up this morning.”

“Which reminds me.” Claire reached into her shopping bag and pulled out her gift to him, careful to position herself to block Nicholas's view. “I was going to leave this at the desk for you. Luckily, it's not overtly Christmasy so if you go ahead and open it quickly, I don't think it should pose a problem for Nicholas.”

Jax gave her an unreadable look, then stripped away the wrapping paper to reveal the brown leather journal. As his lips lifted in a slow smile, Claire took the crumpled pieces of paper from his hand and shoved them into her bag. He traced the embossed star with the pad of his thumb as his mouth silently formed the word “Believe.” “This is really nice, Claire. Really thoughtful. Thank you.”

Then in a move as natural as a sunrise, he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

It was as perfect a moment as Claire could have imagined—and she had quite an imagination.

“You're welcome. Good luck to you, Jax. Don't forget to think positive.”

“Every morning,” he replied, and it sounded almost like a vow.

Claire's smile bloomed like the roses in the garden. She shifted the shopping bag behind her back, shielding it from Nicholas's view, and called out, “I'm glad to have met you, Nicholas. I hope you catch lots of fish.”

The boy shot her a cautious glance, and upon judging that it was safe, stood and faced her. “I found sixteen worms.”

“A treasure trove,” she solemnly replied.

“The trout steal a lot.”

“Trout are tricky that way.”

The boy took a few steps toward her. “I'm sorry I ran away from you. I'm phobic. Certain triggers cause me irrational fear.”

Claire's heart melted as she heard the adult terms coming from an eight-year-old's mouth. She cut a quick glance toward Jax, who silently mouthed,
Damn therapists.

“Don't fret, Nicholas. Everyone has things that scare him. Personally, I'm a bit creeped out by worms.”

He showed her a shy grin, then said, “My friend Dr. Lori told me about you.”

Surprised, Claire said, “Oh?”

“She said you're putting Mortimer on a Christmas ornament.”

“Mortimer?” Jax repeated. “Isn't that the name of that dog who was up at the camp this morning?”

Nicholas nodded. “The really ugly one.”

“You're putting that dog on a Christmas ornament?” Jax asked, his tone incredulous. “The one with the…” He waved his hand, searching for words.

“Bug eyes and pronounced underbite?” Claire laughed. “That's Mortimer. He's so ugly that he's quite darling. I think our Mortimer ornaments will sell like crazy. Face it, the dog makes you laugh, and anything that makes the customer laugh is good for sales. I'm doing a limited-edition set: the Twelve Dogs of Christmas. They're all dogs owned by people here in Eternity Springs, and we're selling them as a fund-raiser for…” She hesitated. Proceeds were to be used to purchase new Christmas decorations for the town. Instead of providing that detail, Claire kept it general. “The Chamber of Commerce.”

“That's a clever idea.”

“Thank you. I'm hopeful that it will be successful. People do like their pets, and we will have a good representation of different breeds available. One of our residents is a famous artist, and she's doing the drawings.”

Nicholas drew back his sneaker and kicked a stone into the creek. “What about Captain, miss? Will he get an ornament, too? Are you going to use Captain?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Which one is Captain?” Jax asked.

“He's Mr. Chase's dog, Dad. He's a golden retriever and he's the best dog ever.” Nicholas turned imploring eyes toward Claire. “How much do they cost?”

“The ornaments?” At Nicholas's nod, Claire said, “Twenty dollars. We are selling them for twenty dollars apiece or two hundred twenty-five dollars for the entire set of twelve.”

“Okay. Okay, then.” Nicholas sucked in a deep, bracing breath, then asked, “Maybe … do you think … maybe you could save one for me? A Captain ornament?” He glanced at his father and added, “For when I'm better.”

Jax opened his mouth to speak, but Claire stilled him by holding up her hand, palm out. “I've been thinking about establishing a layaway program for my shop. This would be the perfect opportunity for me to put that idea into motion. Would you like to put a Captain ornament on layaway?”

The boy narrowed his eyes. “How do I do that?”

“Well, it's a little like a loan, a little like a promise. If you put a Captain ornament on layaway, then you give me a deposit of … say … a dollar. I take it out of my sales stock, and I keep it in a special section of my shop with your name on it. Every month, you send me another payment and I mark it down in my layaway book. When you have paid the entire twenty dollars, I send the ornament to you.”

“Twenty dollars?”

“Yes.”

“So if I paid you two dollars a month, I could get it in ten months?”

“Yes. Of course, you can pay it off early. There's no penalty for that. Also, the Twelve Dogs of Christmas ornaments aren't due to arrive until October, so you could delay the start of your payments until then.”

“What if I'm not ready for it once I've paid you the whole twenty dollars?”

“I can continue to hold it for you.”

“For how long?”

“As long as you need me to hold it.”

“Really? What if it takes me a really long time … like until I'm a grown-up? What if your store goes out of business or you die?”

“Jeeze, Nicholas,” his father said.

“I need to know, Dad!”

“He's right,” Claire said. “We are entering into a business agreement, and it's always best to iron out any potential problems at the outset.”

Nicholas shot his father a triumphant glare as Claire tapped her index finger against her lip in a show of considering the issue at hand. “I probably shouldn't commit to storing your purchase indefinitely because you're right, the business could fail or something bad could happen to me. Something good could happen, too. I could decide to move to Bora Bora.”

“Where's that?”

“The South Pacific.”

“Are you thinking about moving to Bora Bora?” Jax asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Not right now, but like Nicholas, I do like to keep my options open.” To the boy, she said, “I have an idea. If you're not ready for me to send you the Captain ornament when you make the final payment, I could always send it to your dad to keep for you until you're ready.”

“He's the one who goes away all the time.”

Jax closed his eyes and sighed. Then he ruffled his son's hair. “Not anymore, son. You're stuck with me. And one more thing. Based on what I saw earlier today up at the Rocking L, I'm convinced you're not going to need to leave your dog ornament in layaway for a long time.”

Nicholas looked up at his father with hope beaming in his eyes. “Really? Do you really think so? Are we going to move to Eternity Springs?”

“Yes, I really think so, Nicholas. And no, we're not going to move to Eternity Springs. I don't think you need to move. I think you're doing great now, and you'll continue to do great once you're back in Seattle. I have every confidence that you're going to want to hang your Captain ornament on our very own tree this coming holiday season.”

Behind the thick lenses of his black-rimmed glasses, Nicholas's owl eyes blinked back tears. Solemnly, he said, “Maybe I can. Miss Celeste says that if you want something bad enough to tell the angel inside you. She says ‘From your mouth to an angel's ears.'”

“An angel's ears?” his father repeated.

Claire thought of Celeste and of her own angel room where precious little Gardenia sat upon a shelf. Reaching out, she touched Nicholas's shoulder. “This is Eternity Springs. Angels are our specialty.”

 

Chapter Four

Autumn colors in the mountains make my heart sing.

—CLAIRE

SEPTEMBER

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Jax opened the box of books and grimaced. If he had to look at one more bare-chested cowboy, he swore he might just hurl. He couldn't believe the way those paperback books flew off the shelves. To hear Nicholas's grandfather talk, nobody was reading anymore and those who were downloaded their books from pirate sites on the Internet.

After six weeks at this suburban strip-mall store “training from the bottom up” per his ex-father-in-law's requirements, Jax was just about ready to call bull on that. This store was as busy as a brothel during Fleet Week. If even half of the twenty-seven locations of Hardcastle Books had this sort of traffic, this amount of sales, then the old family business was doing just fine—despite Brian's dour proclamations.

Jax acknowledged that Brian Hardcastle was a brilliant businessman. He had successfully guided his privately held company through the contraction in the industry and the digital revolution, and now the stores were thriving. By all outward appearances, he was a decent man, too. He loved his wife and had all but worshiped his only child. Now he focused all that adoration on Nicholas.

His interference was giving Jax fits.

Brian didn't hesitate to show the passive-aggressive side of his nature to Jax. He'd always been outwardly friendly, but from the moment Lara had introduced them, Jax had never doubted that Brian believed the navy man wasn't good enough for his little girl. While Jax certainly didn't lay blame for the failure of his marriage at his in-laws' feet, he knew in his bones that they—his father-in-law, in particular—hadn't helped the situation, either.

How it galled him to be dependent on the man. He'd like nothing better than to tell Brian Hardcastle to take a flying leap, but he couldn't do it. Not because he wanted this job, certainly. (Seriously, what did women see in kilts, anyway?) No, he had to play nice with Brian and Linda because of Nicholas.

The psychologist told him so.

Nicholas's schoolteacher told him so.

Hell, even his old shipmate and friend to whom he'd poured out his troubles along with half a bottle of good Kentucky malt during the man's twenty-hour layover on his way home for a two-week R & R had agreed. For Nicholas's sake, for the time being, Jax had to put up and shut up with Brian Hardass Hardcastle.

“Young man? Excuse me, young man?”

Jax turned to see a woman who was the stereotypical little old lady. “Yes, ma'am. May I help you?”

“I'm looking for the new Mallory Hart. The one that has the handcuffs and pearls on the cover? Today is its release day and I don't see it anywhere.”

Jax blinked hard. Mallory Hart, he'd recently learned, wrote erotica. Seriously down-and-dirty stuff. Granny and handcuffs? He did not want to think about it. “Um … it's over here.”

He led the customer to the end cap where he'd stocked the shelves after closing last night and stopped abruptly. The shelves were totally bare. Huh. “Looks like we sold out. Let me check stock in the back.”

“Thank you, dear. I preordered my digital copy and read it first thing this morning, but I want a hard copy, too. It's a wonderful story. Have you read it?”

Wonderful story? Damn, he thought, as his cheeks grew warm. Was he blushing? Was he a submariner or a schoolgirl? He'd been to the flesh pits of the Orient. Hell, he'd
sampled
the flesh pits of the Orient. Now a little old lady was making him blush in the aisle of his father-in-law's suburban Washington bookstore?
Dorothy, you're not in Kansas anymore.

“Um, no, ma'am.”

“Well, you should. I imagine even a big, good-looking fella like yourself can learn a few new tricks.”

“Uh. Yes. Well. Excuse me, I'll go check for your book.” Jax beat a hasty retreat to the stockroom. By noon, Hardcastle's had burned through its entire stock of Mallory Hart's newest novel and he'd fielded seven …
seven!
… come-ons from strangers of both sexes. It even outsold
The Christmas Angel Waiting Room,
which was flying out the door due to the promo blitz for the upcoming animated movie based on the story.