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Authors: Ginny Baird

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BOOK: The Christmas Catch
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John watched their taillights fade as
Mason
stood by with a sullen expression.

“Don’t look so down, fellow,” John told him, stroking his
head.
“Santa’s coming soon.”

The dog gave him a sideways glance like he’d just made the
biggest mistake of his life. Okay, so maybe he’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a
wedding ring, but that didn’t mean he had to act on it.

“And none of that nonsense about how I should have gotten her
number,” John scolded, adjusting his parka. “I have a very occupied life.”

But Mason just ignored him and loped through the snow toward
their truck.

 
 

 

 
 

Chapter Four

 

Christine whisked about the kitchen, talking on her cell
while she fixed dinner. A pot of chili simmered on the stove as she mixed a
cornbread batter. The snow had started up again outside, beating down harder
than ever, but they were snug inside their getaway. “Hang on, Ellen,” she said
into the receiver. “Just let me check on Ty a sec.” She peered through the
swinging door to find him happily engaged in a game of Legos by the fire.

“So?” Ellen asked as Christine popped the cornbread pan in
the oven. “Is it as lovely as I said?”

“Just beautiful,” Christine answered, gazing out the window.
“And very, very cold.”

“I wish I could sympathize…” Christine heard a low murmuring
in the background. It was Ellen’s voice, soft and sultry. “A little more on the
shoulders, honey?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get that.”

“I was just saying I’m enjoying the warmth down here.” She
giggled and Christine could have sworn she heard the tinkling of a tropical
drink in her hand. She even bet it held a little paper umbrella. She could just
see Ellen in that tiny bikini wearing a big straw hat and gigantic dark
glasses. “Cancun’s been incredibly welcoming.”

The man Ellen was with was bound to be scorching hot. It
wasn’t like Christine hadn’t met her own share of hunks, as well.
 
“I know what you mean,” she said in a
mysterious tone. “Vermont’s been friendly, too.”

There was a subtle slurping, then a startled cough. “Don’t
tell me the confirmed bachelorette has met someone?”

“I didn’t say that… exactly.”

“You’ve been there all of eight hours! Good girl!” Christine
could tell Ellen was pleased with her, probably beaming like the Cheshire cat
from ear to ear.

“It’s not like that at all. My SUV got stuck in a snowstorm.”

“And Prince Charming rescued you? Ooh,
I’m
just loving
it! Come now, dish to the woman who made it all possible.
What’s his name?”

“John Steadman.”

“Sounds promising.
What’s he do
?”

“He’s a college professor.”

“I’ll Google him!” Then Christine heard her whisper to her
boy toy. “Hand me my iPad, baby.”

“That’s stalkerish!”

“You’re just jealous because you didn’t do it first. Let’s
see S… T… Is it just an ‘e’ or an ‘ea’ in Steadman?”

“How should I know?”

“Yep. It’s ‘ea.’ Here he is. Mister… Whoops! Make that
Doctor
John Steadman. Um-hum… Burlington,
Vermont.
My oh
my oh my. Is he a hottie!

“Ellen!”

“What? I’m terribly proud of you.
So,
when are the two of you going out?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. We’re not.”

“Why not?”

“He didn’t ask.”

“Then you ask him.”

“We’re only here for two weeks.”

“And I’m only here for one,” she purred. “That doesn’t mean
I’m letting
my
vacation go to waste.”
Christine feared she heard kissing and hoped Ellen wasn’t making out on the
other end of the line.

“I’m not like you, Ellen. This is different. I’m—”

“Chicken.”

“No. Out of practice.”

“That’s the whole point, Christine. It’s been over two
years. Don’t you think it’s time?”

 

Christine opened her laptop and set it on the counter. Of
all the nerve! Ellen went and Googled her guy before she’d had a chance to. Christine
felt a rash of embarrassment for thinking of John Steadman as hers. She hadn’t
laid claim to him, for heaven’s sake. They barely even knew each other and had
only met a couple of times.
By accident.
Literally.

Suddenly a smoke alarm sounded and Christine looked up to
find chili bubbling over on the cooktop and black smoke curling from the oven.
“Oh no!” she cried, leaping from the barstool.

Tyler rushed into the room, hollering,

Something’s
on fire!”

She grabbed two potholders and pulled the charred cornbread
from the oven. Quickly opening the kitchen door, she tossed the seared pan out
in the snow,
then
dashed back inside to wave a towel
beneath the blaring smoke detector.

Tyler clambered up on the kitchen stool to watch the show as
the air cleared and the wailing instrument finally quieted.

“Whew!” Christine breathed, dabbing her forehead with the
dishtowel.

Tyler slowly spun his stool toward the counter,
then
cried with delight.

“Mommy, Mommy! Look! It’s our angel!”

Christine crossed to the counter and shut her laptop.

“John’s not an angel, baby. I already explained that to
you.”

“But, when he helped us you said—”

“It was a figure of speech. Something someone says when they
mean something else.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.”

“That’s how people talk sometimes.”

“Why don’t they just say what they mean?”

“I guess that would be too easy.” She reached for her son
and helped him off of the stool. “Come on, let’s get ready to eat. You hungry
for dinner?”

Tyler wrinkled his nose. “Can I skip the cornbread?”

 

An hour later, Christine and Tyler were constructing a fortress
out of Lincoln Logs. Tyler crowned the final turret with a tiny toy flag.
“Tadahh!” he proclaimed proudly. “It’s done!”

Christine’s heart swelled with pride. She was so honored to
call this charming young man her son. “It’s awesome, Ty. World’s best.”

Tyler beamed.

“You see,” Christine told him, “playing the old-fashioned
way isn’t really so rotten.”

“It’s all right, I guess.” Tyler yawned and rubbed his eyes.

Christine checked the mantel clock, seeing it was after
nine.

“Oh gosh, look at the time. It’s up to bed with you.”

“But mom—” he protested, even as he picked up Jasper.

“No buts about it. There will be more time for play
tomorrow.”

“You mean it?”

Christine nodded as he headed up the stairs dragging his
teddy beside him.
 
Slowly,
thoughtfully, he turned toward his mom. “I like Vermont,” he said.

“Yeah, buddy,” she answered, smiling softly, “I like it,
too.”

 
 

 

 
 

Chapter Five

 

With Tyler tucked
in,
Christine sat
at the dining room table to work on her drafts. Her first task was reworking
her earlier sketch of Santa’s sleigh over a rooftop by using Winterhaven as a
model for the scene. After a while, tired from her labors, she stood for a
stretch and walked to the window, surveying the already buried-in-snow SUV.
Guardian Angel,
she thought with a
chuckle, casting her gaze up the stairs to where Tyler lay sleeping.

Nabbing her laptop off of an end table, she carried it with
her to the sofa and perched it on her knees. Within seconds, a computerized
voice told her she had mail. Curious, Christine opened her messages to find a
new e-mail in her inbox from, of all things, the University of North Carolina
Alumni Association. She thought of John, but then realized she was being
ridiculous to take this sheer coincidence as any sort of sign. Even if they had
gone to the same school, she reasoned, they probably hadn’t been there at the
same time. He had to be in his mid to late thirties at least, and she had just
turned thirty-one. Still, she couldn’t keep herself from clicking over to his Web
page, which she’d bookmarked earlier, to review its details one more time.

Department Chair John
Steadman is a full professor of business and economics. Steadman holds a BA
from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a PhD from the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Before coming to Vermont, Professor Steadman
served an associate and then full professor at Tulane University in New
Orleans, where he was instrumental in developing innovative business models.

Below his bio and an extremely flattering professional photo,
a link directed the reader to
Contact
Professor Steadman.
Christine could just bet that a number of coeds had the
hots for the steamy professor. Lots of girls got crushes on their teachers, and
John’s easygoing nature and gentle charm would make him easy to fall for. His
ruggedly handsome face and that built, athletic body didn’t hurt much either…
But Christine was no college kid. She was a full-grown woman and a mother
besides. She was way too mature to go crushing on people, particularly people
she didn’t know that well.

Christine pondered the prospect of getting to know John.
Perhaps Ellen was right. Christine hadn’t gone out for so much as coffee with a
man since Dan died. She couldn’t sequester herself forever. What was the harm
in a casual connection anyway? Maybe being in Vermont for a limited time made
it all the better, less risky somehow. She could take a chance on seeing
someone on a friendship basis, where circumstance clearly dictated that a
friendship was all it could be. She wasn’t ready for full-scale dating. Plus,
she had Tyler to consider. Though he was too young to remember a lot about his
dad, he’d already lost a father once. Christine didn’t want to put him in the
position of forming an attachment that might not pan out. Truth be told, she
didn’t want to put herself in that situation either.

And yet,
getting back
out there,
as Ellen called it, didn’t have to be such a scary proposition.
Christine could take it in little, bitty, baby steps. That’s right, one thing
at a time. This Christmas, maybe she’d brave a coffee date in Vermont. Next
year, who knew? She might work her way up to lunch with someone. By the time
Tyler was eighteen, she might even find herself ready for sleepovers… A flash of
heat tore through her as she suddenly imagined herself going to bed with John.
But that was a ridiculous thing to consider. Plain crazy. She wasn’t interested
in anything like that right now. She’d already thought the whole thing through.

Christine gingerly guided the mouse over the e-mail link, wondering
if she could really do it. She’d been raised so traditionally that she didn’t
totally feel comfortable making the first move. Then again, if it was a simple
move toward friendship, what was the big deal? A vision of John sweeping her
into his arms raced through her mind, and she slapped her laptop shut, losing
her nerve. She stood and skittishly began to pace the room. “On the one hand,”
she said out loud. “It’s no harm, no foul. I just write and say, thanks again.
That’s innocent enough. I don’t have to be the one to suggest going out. I’ll
leave that to him. And, well… if he doesn’t, there’s nothing lost.”

Feeling her courage surge, Christine sat on the sofa again and
reopened her laptop. She slapped it shut two seconds later. “On the other hand,
what does that say? That I can’t get him off my mind? He’d clearly know I
looked him up! What kind of woman does that? A desperate one, obviously...”

She set her laptop on a sofa cushion and strode to the bar,
thinking some merlot might help. Either to grant her the wherewithal to go
through with it, or realize what a cockeyed idea it was. She poured herself a
glass, still musing aloud. “Then again, I am a fellow Tar Heel, and we Carolina
types are always friendly with each other.” She took a long swallow, draining
her glass. She was worse off than she thought. Talking to herself and swigging
down wine! Something had to be done, and fast!

Christine sat back down with fire in her belly and
determination in her soul. If Ellen could do this, then so could she, damn it.
It wasn’t like she was proposing marriage. She was only writing to establish
contact. She clicked the link and a dialogue box opened. Now, if she could just
think of the perfect thing to say.

 

John opened his e-mail the next morning and was pleased to
find a message from Christine White. “Who says it’s not an equal opportunity
world?” he asked Mason, who was scarfing down his breakfast. “Hey,” he said to
the dog,
who
just kept eating. “Hey!”

Mason stopped chomping and looked up.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you,” John said with a grin. “Guess
what, buddy? I think we’ve got a date.”

Mason cocked his head sideways, waiting.

“No, I haven’t asked her yet. But that doesn’t mean I’m not
going to.”

John took a sip of his coffee, devising a plan. The truth
was that he was inordinately happy to hear from Christine. She hadn’t said
much, just
Thanks again for the ‘absolutely
daring’ rescue
or some such, but it was what was written between the lines
that counted. She’d looked him up! Had actually taken the time to track him
down, despite the fact that she couldn’t be in town for more than just a few
days. John reasoned there wasn’t much harm in taking her and her boy out for
coffee and cocoa. Show them a bit of genuine New England hospitality. Heck, it
was lonely up here in wintertime. Besides, maybe his best friend Carlos was
right. Spending all his time trapped indoors with a dog was getting to him.
Sooner or later, he was going to start hearing Mason talk back.

It wasn’t like John didn’t have his lady friends. But honestly,
none of them were as good as Mason to talk to. It happened every time. Just
when John thought things were going really well, someone had to bring up the
marriage talk, that someone not being
him
. It wasn’t
that John was opposed to marriage in theory. It was extra good for the economy,
in fact. Just not for him personally at the moment, not with his big promotion
coming up and his professional papers due. Maybe one day he’d settle down, but
it didn’t need to be any day soon. Fortunately, that was neither here nor
there. That sweet Carolina girl was only here for a little while, so there was
no harm in being friendly and making a connection. All in the spirit of the
General Alumni Association of course, John thought, beginning to type.

BOOK: The Christmas Catch
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