Falling Like Snowflakes (18 page)

Beau had wanted to show them a good time today. Kate worked so hard, and Jack had suffered so much. Beau wanted to erase the trauma of the morning. Besides, he didn't like the idea of their being alone at the house.

He reached out for Jack. “Let me take him. He was looking forward to sitting on Santa's lap.”

Eden paused a beat before passing her son into his arms. “Thanks.”

Jack's light weight settled against his chest, his body like a limp rag doll.

“Where are the others?” she asked.

He suddenly remembered their plans to meet at the end of the
parade route and felt his pocket for his phone. He'd left it charging in the truck. He checked his watch. Almost an hour had passed in the chapel.

“Crap.” He quickened his pace. “We were supposed to meet up with them after the parade.”

The crowded sidewalks challenged their brisk pace. The three-block walk seemed to take an eternity. He was stopped by neighbors he hadn't seen since fall: Lydia and Merle Franke, who farmed a cranberry bog north of town and Margaret Lefebvre, who ran the Primrose Inn. She raved about the wreaths she'd purchased at the farm.

When he finally got free, he realized the staff he'd left at the farm also had no way of contacting him. He made a mental note to grab his phone and check in with them soon.

He finally spotted his family and Paige over the crowd, waiting by the lit-up Christmas moose in front of the Mangy Moose Gift Emporium.

Riley was squatting next to Aunt Trudy's wheelchair, fussing with the wheels, Zac was sipping a hot drink, and Paige was checking her phone.

She looked up just then, spotting them as they emerged from the crowd. Her smile fell as her eyes toggled between Beau and Kate. Her lips tightened, and he suddenly realized how they must look.

“Sorry we're late,” he said as they joined the group.

Riley rose to his feet, scowling at Beau. “We've been texting and calling.”

“I left my phone in the truck.”

“It was my fault,” Kate said. “I had a problem with Jack.”

Five pairs of eyes swung to the boy, sleeping peacefully in Beau's arms. Riley's eyes narrowed on him.

Guilt pricked hard, but Beau shoved it down. He hadn't done anything wrong. He stifled the urge to supply further details. He couldn't say much without divulging all Kate and Jack had been through.

“Well,” Aunt Trudy said. “I don't know about you all, but I'm ready for a big, gooey cinnamon roll from the Sugar Shack.”

They started strolling that direction, Paige coming alongside of him, taking the lead, and Zac pushing Aunt Trudy's wheelchair behind them. Kate fell back in line with Riley.

Waves of disapproval were rolling off of Paige. He realized he hadn't even seen her go by on the float she'd worked so hard on. He felt like a real jerk. He wanted to smooth things over before the morning's events ruined their entire day.

“I'm really sorry we kept you waiting,” he offered.

“I was worried.”

“I meant to grab my phone when I got out of the truck. I forgot to charge it last night.”

The clatter of people and passing cars was not enough to disguise the silence that hung between them. Somehow he knew it didn't help that Kate's son was still draped over his shoulder. But what was he supposed to do? Let Kate traipse all over town with him?

“Should I be?” she asked quietly.

He looked at her over Jack's head. “What?”

Her blue eyes fixed on him. “Should I be worried?” She wasn't talking about the potential danger Kate might be exposing them to. His gut tightened at the hurt in her eyes.

“Of course not,” he said.

Guilt pricked him hard again. He swallowed, looking away, glad they were almost to the bakery. Even if he hadn't done anything wrong, his feelings for Kate were growing. Feeling
protective was one thing, but he felt more than friendship when she looked in his eyes. More than attraction when she trusted him with her son.

She's leaving soon
.
Then things will get back to normal.
He loved Paige.

Didn't he?

But things had seemed off lately. Before Kate's arrival even. He was hesitant to explore the thought further, mainly because he could see where this might be heading. But now wasn't the time. Riley was leaving next Friday. The marines were a tough gig. He'd need his head in the game.

Beau sighed. He'd known getting involved with his brother's best friend would be complicated.

The Sugar Shack was in an old brick storefront with large display windows. The logo arched across the glass in script, and a steaming blueberry pie rested under it.

Jack stirred as they reached the door, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

Beau paused by the door. “Hey, buddy. We're getting cinnamon rolls. You hungry?”

Jack nodded and Beau let him down, then held the door for the others. The smell of yeast and cinnamon wafted out.

Kate took Jack's hand as she entered. “Have a nice nap, kiddo?”

The lobby was packed. Beau stopped Paige with a hand on her arm and reached into his wallet. “I'll just wait out here.” He handed Paige a twenty. “Surprise me?”

She returned his smile with a tight one of her own. “Sure.”

He sank into a wrought-iron chair at a patio table, glad for a break from the tension between them. This wasn't the morning he'd planned.

Riley had hung back, too, and he dropped into the seat across from him. He gave Beau a dark look, his lips thinning, then folded his arms over his wide chest. His guns popped under his jacket sleeves.

“What?” Beau asked when he couldn't stand it anymore.

“Seriously?”

Beau exhaled hard, his breath vaporizing. He pocketed his cold hands. He wasn't going to play dumb. “You're making too much out of this. It's not like we sneaked off to be alone. It's true what she said. Jack freaked out at a loud noise, and we took him into the church until he calmed down. He fell asleep. End of story.”

Riley stared back, seemingly weighing his answer and finding it lacking. “It just seemed awful cozy, watching you come down the sidewalk like a little family—”

“I know how it looked, but nothing happened.”

“Paige is worried about you and Kate.”

“Did she say something?”

“She didn't have to say anything. It was all over her face.”

Beau clamped his teeth together. Riley was right, but his relationship with Paige was none of his business. Beau tamped down the words before they spilled out.

“I'll make it up to her.”

They hadn't spent much time together lately. Maybe they needed to carve out time for another date. Although their last one hadn't gone so well. Kate again. Was he in denial?

“Have you found out anything else?” Riley asked. “About Kate's past?”

“Nothing substantial. I have Abby on it, but I haven't heard back. I do think she's running from someone. That's why I've been sticking kind of close.”

“
I'll
stick close. You worry about Paige.”

Something pinched hard. Jealousy? He didn't want to think so. “You're leaving in less than a week.”

“And Kate's leaving in three,” Riley said pointedly.

Beau balked at the reminder, however true it might be. He couldn't stand the thought of her on her own, someone after them. Who would protect her and Jack? And why was he more concerned about them than about his girlfriend's feelings?

You're a real jerk, Callahan.

“You better not hurt her.”

Beau's eyes aligned with Riley's. He met his brother's challenging gaze with a stubborn look of his own. Riley hadn't cornered the market on feelings for Paige. Beau didn't want to hurt anyone, least of all Paige. But pain was a part of life, and sometimes it was unavoidable. He sure hoped this wasn't one of those times.

Eden slid up in line, holding Micah's hand. Beside them, Riley chatted about boot camp with a middle-aged man who'd served in the army.

They'd spent the day browsing through shops, catching up with neighbors, and admiring the gingerbread houses. The rest of the family had gone home, but Riley had offered to stay and wait until Santa's line went down.

The jolly old man was sitting on a big silver chair in front of a miniature white house with red shutters and a red metal roof. White lights twinkled in the dusk.

As they neared the front of the line, Eden squatted next to Micah. “Do you know what you want to ask Santa for?”

He nodded vigorously. He'd been calm since his nap, and the rest of the day he'd seemed content to explore the festivities and try new foods in junk food alley.

“Do you want to tell me so I can tell Santa?”

He shook his head. They inched forward in line, putting them next. She watched as the toddler ahead of them took one look at the bearded man and let out a screeching wail. Her dad tried to mollify her, but there was no changing her mind about old Saint Nick. A few minutes later the dad scooped her up, with an apologetic look at Santa and the photographer, and carried her off.

“It's our turn,” Eden said.

Riley waited by the photographer while Micah dashed up to Santa's chair. The man reached for her son and settled him in his lap.

“His name's Jack,” Eden said.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! You're not fixing to cry on me, are you, Jack?”

Jack's eyes were wide as he stared with wonder into Santa's face, shaking his head.

“Good! Santa needs both his eardrums. Now, young man, have you been a good boy this year?”

Micah's eyes swung to her, some of the excitement draining from his face. Did he question that? Did he somehow blame himself for his dad's death? Why hadn't she thought of that till now?

Her heart clenched, and her eyes stung. She swallowed hard. “He's been the best boy I could ask for.”

“Well, then! The Mama seal of approval! That means I have to do my very best to make your wishes come true. So tell me, what would you like for Christmas, young Jack?” Santa's rosy cheeks bunched in a smile.

Micah looked at her, questioning. She nodded her encouragement, ready to step in if he needed help expressing himself.

But Micah leaned into Santa and whispered something. Eden's heart took flight at the very basic fact that her son had spoken again. Most of what he said was lost in the clatter around them, but one word reached Eden's ears, making her heart catch.

Home.

Santa's eyes flittered to hers as Jack leaned away, staring up with hope. Saint Nick's smile faltered. He pushed up his glasses and looked directly at Jack. “So,” he said, his voice lower now. “You want to go home, eh?”

Jack nodded vigorously.

Eden's heart ached. She'd had no idea he'd been longing for the impossible. Home was the last place they could go.

Santa must have seen the look on her face. “Well, now . . . Santa will do his best, Jack, but sometimes these things are complicated. Is there something else you'd like? A toy, perhaps? A new game? Or how about a nice baseball glove? Come spring, you can play catch with your mom.”

Jack shook his head as the photographer asked them to look his way. He snapped the picture, but Eden didn't need to see it to remember the hope that gleamed in her son's eyes. Hope that she'd have to steal from a boy who'd already lost so much.

Chapter 19

B
eau leaned back in the computer chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he considered what he'd just uncovered. His first solid lead.

He'd wanted to watch Jack sit on Santa's lap, but Paige needed to get up early and Riley had offered to stay with him, giving Beau the evil eye as he'd done so.

Aunt Trudy had turned in early, leaving the house too quiet. He couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with Kate in the chapel, and he suddenly remembered she'd been on the computer the night before. Maybe she hadn't been looking for new recipes after all.

His suspicion was confirmed. The Internet history turned up new and surprising developments. Disturbing developments.

He reached for his phone and dialed his cousin, hoping it wasn't too late to call.

Abby picked up on the third ring. “Guess who had a lobster dinner tonight?”

He gave a little smile. “Not you.”

“Well, yes, that's true. But Ryan was very grateful.”

He heard his friend say something in the background, then Abby giggled. “Ryan says hi.”

“Tell him hey.”

“Stop it . . .” There was muffled laughter. “Ryan!”

Beau could well imagine what was going on between the lovebirds. He winced. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, no.” There was laughter in her voice, then a static sound as she shuffled the phone. The sound of a door closing.

“Okay, I can talk now. Sorry it's taking me so long to get your info. I'm coming up with a lot of Kate Bennets, but nothing in—”