Weaving the Strands (21 page)

“Let’s have an old-fashioned Christmas carol sing-along.
What do you say?” he asked.

The crowd whistled and clapped.

Maggie leaned close to John. “Never in a million
years did I think this would happen. I’ll tell you what; this house is magic.
It has such an effect on people.”

“It’s not the house, darling. It’s you who’re
magic,” he replied, but his words were drowned out by a rousing chorus of “Hark
the Herald Angels Sing.”

Maggie squeezed his arm and joined in the singing.

***

Frank Haynes could hear the strains
of Christmas carols up in the attic.
Perfect,
he thought. If everyone
were in the conservatory singing, no one would notice his absence. He continued
to weed through boxes, but he couldn’t find the file he sought. In fact, it
looked like someone had been working in the attic, rearranging and tidying
things.
Damn it,
he thought.
Did Maggie discover the file and destroy
it?
Or was it still here, lurking somewhere out of his reach?

Haynes cursed again when he noticed that the
singing had stopped. He’d better get back downstairs before anyone missed him.
One thing was certain, he thought as he headed down the steps, he would return
to the attic somehow, and he would find that file.

***

Afternoon tea was still going
strong at five thirty. Maggie was thrilled that everyone was having such a good
time, but anxious to start cleaning up. She had a full schedule at Town Hall
the following day. Sam Torres had been watching her carefully and now drew her
aside.

“I think it’s time we broke this party up, don’t
you?”

Maggie sighed. “I can’t just yell ‘Time’s up! Get
out!’”

“Leave it to me,” he stated confidently. He
circled behind Marc at the piano and whispered something in his ear. Marc
concluded “O Come, All Ye Faithful” with a flourish and lowered the lid on the
keyboard. He ignored the cries of protest from the crowd and turned to
acknowledge a smattering of applause.

Sam Torres clapped his hands above his head.
“Everybody, grab your coats and follow me. The outside lights are set to come
on shortly. You won’t want to miss them.”

An excited murmur rippled through the crowd as
people hurried to retrieve their coats and congregate outside. The wind bore an
icy bite. A few drifted away to their cars, but most remained, stamping their
feet and rubbing their hands to stay warm. Maggie and John stood at the bottom
of the steps and waited.

At precisely five forty-five, Rosemont’s façade
jumped into brilliant relief against the night sky. The crowd gasped and John
and Sam exchanged proud nods.

Before Maggie could utter a word of thanks to the
crowd, Sam jumped in front of her, tugging Joan along with him. He took
Maggie’s hand and pumped it, saying in a voice too loud for the distance that
was between them, “Thank you so much for having us, Mayor. We had a wonderful
time, but we must be going now.”

“So that’s your game, is it?” Maggie uttered
softly, gazing over his shoulder. “Get everybody out of the house and then
start the procession to their cars? Brilliant. And it looks like it’s working.
Thank you.”

“I hate to leave you with all the cleanup,” Joan
said. “Maybe we should come back in half an hour.”

Maggie laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You helped
me set up. You go on home now,” she ordered, giving Joan a hug.

“Come on now, honey,” Sam said, pulling Joan
aside. “Other people want to say their goodbyes.”

By six fifteen, Maggie and John had waved goodbye
to the final guest. Arm-in-arm, they climbed the stone steps and crossed the
threshold to the sight every hostess hates—the aftermath of a party.

Maggie slumped into the nearest chair. “Right now,
I want to slap myself silly. Why did I do this?”

John grinned. “Buck up; it’s not that bad. And
you’ve got me to help. You just need to get your second wind.”

Maggie nodded unenthusiastically.

“Tell you what. Why don’t I go pick up Eve and
Roman, plus a pizza, and bring them back here? Go soak in the tub while I’m
gone, and we’ll make short work of this after we eat.”

Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but John was
already pulling her to her feet and turning her toward the stairs. “Don’t waste
time arguing with me. Just do it,” he said with a familiar smile.

***

Maggie was still relaxing in the
tub an hour later when Eve bounded up the stairs and into the bathroom in
search of her master. Maggie quickly snatched her towel and stepped out of the
tub, fearing that Eve would launch herself into it at any moment.

“You silly girl,” she cooed, rubbing her ears.
“You were only gone for one afternoon. And you love your friend Roman.”

She turned as she heard John’s tread on the
stairs.

“You decent?” he called.

“Not yet,” she replied

“Good. Then I’m right on time.”

“I don’t think so, Mr.,” she hollered through the
door. “Take yourself back downstairs, and I’ll be there shortly. I barely ate
at my own party, and I’m starved.”

Maggie and Eve bounded down the stairs ten minutes
later, Maggie snug in her favorite flannel pajamas.

John burst out laughing.

“Don’t start with me,” Maggie warned. “I love
these pj’s. I live in these pj’s from November through May. Just accept it.”

John nodded. “As long as I can get you out of them
from time to time.

Maggie shot him a sideways glance. “Let’s eat,”
she said, flipping open the lid to the pizza box. “We’ve got a lot of work to
do.”

John had been right—the bath and the food
restored her energy. By ten o’clock, all the dishes had been stacked in the
kitchen, waiting to be run through the dishwasher; the dirty linens were in the
washer; and John had moved most of the furniture back to its original position.

Maggie threw her arms around John’s back and
hugged him. “Let’s call it quits for tonight. I can finish up during the
evenings this week.”

“You sure?” John replied, stifling a yawn.

“Positive. Let’s take these two outside to do
their business and head upstairs to bed.”

It was just beginning to snow as they headed to
the back lawn of Rosemont. Fat, wet flakes floated lazily from the sky. They
watched the snow drift and catch the light from the back porch until the dogs returned,
eager to dash back into the warm house.

“I’m really tired,” John sighed as they climbed
the stairs. “If I snore, elbow me.”

“I was just about to say the same to you,” Maggie
replied.

Chapter 46

For the second time since she’d
moved to Westbury, Maggie was snowed in at Rosemont. She just didn’t know it.
The storm had shifted direction after midnight and the full brunt of it settled
on Westbury. John had set his alarm for his usual Monday morning wake-up time
of four thirty. Maggie had intended to get up and make coffee; instead she
looked up only briefly before rolling over. She was back to sleep before her
head hit the pillow.

John padded downstairs to let the dogs out and
give them their breakfast. A drift by the kitchen door made it almost
impossible to open and the snow was falling at an alarming rate. He crossed to
the front of the house and looked out at his car, dimly illuminated by the
entryway light. The snow was almost to the top of his tires. John returned to
the kitchen and found the TV remote. He flipped to the weather channel and
waited for the local weather segment to hear what he already suspected: schools
and government offices were closed. Citizens were instructed to stay off the
roads.

The morning’s surgery would have to be cancelled.
Thank goodness, they weren’t currently boarding any dogs. He’d call his office
manager in a few hours about adding something to their voicemail recording about
the closure and ask her to contact today’s appointments.

He smiled broadly and stood in the kitchen,
savoring the delicious freedom and possibilities that only a snow day could
bring. The first order of business was to slip back into bed with Maggie
Martin.

***

Maggie stirred and stretched, then
snuggled back into the warmth of John’s arms. It took a moment for the oddness
of this to register. She sat straight up in bed and threw off the covers.

“John!” she cried in alarm. “Good grief, it’s light
out. You should have been out of here hours ago. We’ve overslept.”

She hurled herself into her bathrobe as John
turned over in bed.

“Slow down there, princess. Nobody overslept.
We’re snowed in.”

Maggie stopped dead in her tracks. “Really?” she
replied, a note of schoolgirl hopefulness in her voice.

“Yep. The storm changed course overnight and
they’re saying Westbury is at the center of the blizzard.”

“No kidding.”

“I got up as usual and had a devil of a time
getting the kitchen door open to let the dogs out. I turned on the TV, and
found out they’ve closed down the town. I’m surprised nobody called you, being
mayor and all.”

“I am too, now that you mention it.” Maggie turned
toward her nightstand. “I didn’t bring my phone upstairs last night. It must still
be in the kitchen.”

“That would explain it.”

“I’d better go get it,” Maggie replied, heading to
the door. “You can stay in bed. How often do you get to sleep in?”

“Nope, I’m coming. Knowing you, you’ll get started
on the rest of the cleanup, and you’ll work until you drop. I can’t be the lazy
boyfriend lounging in bed while you lift that barge and tote that bale.”

“You’re the best. You know that, don’t you?”
Maggie called over her shoulder as she headed downstairs.

***

John had been correct in his prediction.
Maggie pulled out the leftover pizza pronouncing it the “best
day-after-the-party food ever” and tackled the remaining cleanup with gusto.
They worked companionably together and managed to completely restore order by
noon.

Maggie poked through her pantry and refrigerator,
and decided that the best she could offer for lunch was omelets. John started a
fire in the library, and they ate their lunch nestled on the rug in front of
the hearth.

“You’re a million miles away,” John observed.
“Worried about the mess that is Westbury? Can’t you put it aside for one
afternoon?”

Maggie tore her gaze from the fire. “It’s always
with me; like a black cloud that follows me around. I wake up in the middle of
the night thinking about it. But that’s not what’s on my mind just now.”

John cocked an eyebrow. “The floor’s all yours.”

Maggie sighed. “I got a call from Don Upton. He’s
my professor friend that’s consulting with us on the town’s finances.”

John nodded. “I remember you mentioning him. You
said he’s been very helpful.”

“He has. He has also offered me a new
job—one that would require me to resign my post as mayor.”

John let out a low whistle. “Tell me about it.”

Maggie settled against the back of a chair. “It’s
an expert witness consultation in a big fraud case involving a California
utility.”

“Would you need to move back to California?”

“No,” Maggie answered hastily. “But I’d have to
make frequent trips out there.”

John breathed a sigh of relief. “You’d get to see
your kids and the girls? You’d like that.”

Maggie nodded. “It would be extremely lucrative;
I’d make enough to be able to retire comfortably. And it’s work I’m experienced
in and good at. I’d love doing it.”

“You can’t take this on and continue as mayor?”

“No way. The demands of both jobs would be way too
much. I’d put in long hours on the expert witness job, but I’d largely be able
to control the timing. So I could work around your job. We’d have more time together.”

“I’d love that,” John said, holding her gaze.
“What’s the downside of taking this job?”

“Resigning. Being a quitter. Letting people down,”
Maggie replied in a rush. “But with all the critical press and hate mail I’m
getting, I’m not sure that anyone would really care.”

“Honey, that’s a small percentage of the people.
I’m sure the vast majority support and appreciate you. Don’t let the few
malcontents influence your decision.”

Maggie smiled and reached over to rub his hand.
“You’re always on my side, aren’t you?”

John raised her hand and kissed it.

Maggie sighed. “Still, I’d like to be done with
all of this. I feel like a fish out of water all the time. Nothing comes easily
at Town Hall. With Don’s job, I’d be back in my element—in my zone of genius,
as they say.”

“Sounds like there are a lot of compelling reasons
to take him up on this offer. I won’t hide the fact that I’d love to see more
of you, but I’m behind you, no matter what you decide.”

Maggie nodded.

“Thank you, John. I know that. But enough about
me. What’s on your mind today?”

John took Maggie’s hand and pulled her down onto
the thick rug. “I’ve been thinking about ways to get you out of these
ridiculous pajamas all morning. I think it’s time to put theory to the test,
don’t you?”

Maggie smiled. “Anything for science,” she
replied.

Chapter 47

Frank Haynes was restless and
ill-tempered when he finally made his way into his office at Haynes Enterprises
on Tuesday morning. Snow days meant lost revenue to him, nothing more. The day
at home had given him plenty of time to stew over Maggie Martin and her
seemingly perfect life. At Rosemont—the property that in his mind had
been destined to be his.

The schools were closed and Loretta wouldn’t be in
until ten, but at least she’d be there. What an enigma she was. The lady was
certainly tight-lipped about her past. From what Haynes knew about it, she had
reason to be secretive. The conservative folks around Westbury wouldn’t take to
a kept woman with a sugar daddy.

What was Loretta’s game? he wondered. Did she
actually want a fresh start in Westbury? Was she turning over a new leaf?
Haynes snorted in disgust. If she were after redemption, it wouldn’t last long.
What was the saying—leopards don’t change their spots? He’d just have to
find a way to make that work in his favor. Soon.

He turned in his chair to look out at the
snow-covered parking lot. Loretta would have been jealous of Maggie if she’d
been at that ridiculous tea party of hers. Maybe he should have brought her
along. Too late now. An idea flashed through his brain. Maybe he could work
that angle after all.

***

Loretta pushed through the door of
Haynes Enterprises at ten minutes before eleven. She dropped her purse on her
desk and rushed directly to Haynes’ office, an apology on her lips. Their two
cars were the only ones in the lot, but Loretta knew that he wouldn’t find the
fact that none of the other tenants had opened their offices to be a good
excuse for her tardiness.

She drew in a breath and prepared to deliver the
speech she had rehearsed in the car when he cut her off.

“No need to apologize, my dear. The roads are
horrible. Just glad you made it here safely. Do you have snow tires yet? No?
Then you need to get them. They’ll make a world of difference.”

Another one of his startling mood changes. Loretta
eyed him guardedly.

“Before you get started, I’ve got a couple of
things I’d like your help with,” he said smoothly. Loretta nodded. “First, I’d
like you to order a large flower arrangement to be delivered to Mayor Martin.”

Loretta raised one eyebrow. “What do you want the
card to say?”

He paused and tried to appear thoughtful and solicitous:
“Thank you for your spectacular hospitality on Sunday afternoon. Merry
Christmas.

“What do you think?”

Loretta shrugged. “That sounds fine. What did she
do on Sunday afternoon? If I may ask.”

“Didn’t you hear about it? She had a party at
Rosemont. I believe they call it a high tea. For more than a hundred people.
Very fancy and grand. The place was all decked out for Christmas.” He watched
her expression carefully and could see that he’d piqued her interest.

“How nice,” she replied tersely.

“You would have loved it,” he continued. “All the
women did. In fact, are you on Facebook?”

Loretta nodded. “Why?”

“One of the women there—Judy Young from that
gift shop on the square—was snapping photos right and left to post on her
page. I’d like to see them. Will you log in so we can take a look?”

Haynes didn’t have the slightest interest in those
photos. Once around had been plenty. On the other hand, seeing Loretta consumed
with jealousy could be most entertaining and useful. This day was starting to
look up.

“Sure,” Loretta replied. “You could set up your
own Facebook account if you wanted; I could show you how.”

“Absolutely not.” He had to stop himself from
adding, “I don’t have time for that sort of idiocy.”

He leaned over her shoulder as she brought her Facebook
page onto her computer screen.

“Celebration’s page,” he reminded her.

Within seconds, Loretta was scrolling through
Judy’s album of photos from Sunday afternoon. Haynes could see that they were
having the desired effect; Loretta twitched with envy. He’d been right; part of
her felt as if all that could have been hers. He decided to press his advantage.

“Didn’t you say that Paul Martin talked about
Rosemont?” he asked innocently.

“Not much,” Loretta muttered absentmindedly,
scrolling through the photos a second time. “He never told me it was anything
like this.”

Keep her talking, Haynes thought. “What did he
tell you?”

“That it was old and run down. That it would cost
a fortune to restore.” She was indignant. “This sure doesn’t look like a
fixer-upper to me. He said that she could have it.”

Haynes nodded. Now they were getting somewhere.

Loretta glanced up at him and abruptly stopped.
She hadn’t intended to talk about any of this, and she certainly wasn’t going
to confide in her boss.

He nodded at her in encouragement. “Meaning Mrs.
Martin could have it?”

“I don’t know what he meant. I really didn’t know
him very well.”

She closed out of the Facebook page. “Where shall
I send the flowers? Rosemont or Town Hall?”

Haynes swallowed his frustration. “Town Hall will
do,” he said as he retreated to his office.