Snow fell early on the day of the parade. A soft white blanket covered the streets and sidewalks and collected in canopies and on tree branches. Come noon, the festivities would commence, with or without clear skies. Life went on, regardless of storms.
Maggie stood in her brother’s store next to a Christmas tree he’d put on display and stared across the street. Sum wouldn’t open his store for another hour. He and David both opened at eight, and, until recently, had closed at exactly the same time. They offered many of the same goods, priced them similarly. There was no need for two stores. One would fold, eventually. Regardless of which one failed, her heart would break.
She held the handkerchief Sum had given her to her face, inhaling the clean smell of soap along with a faint masculine scent. A fierce yearning wrung her heart. She’d never meant to hurt Gordon Sumner. She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, either. But she’d done both, and now she didn’t know what to do. The only thing she could do was to go on as if nothing had changed, even if everything had changed.
At a noise behind her, she tucked the hankie beneath the hem of her sleeve and turned.
Her niece entered the store from the back. She held her little brother’s hand, steadying the toddler as he walked. Fannie’s crimson velvet dress featured a frilly apron. Patrick’s outfit with its wide lace collar made him look like a miniature Little Lord Fauntleroy, the character from one of Victoria’s favorite books.
Maggie put on a delighted face. She wouldn’t ruin this day for the children by focusing on her misery. “Oh my, look at the two of you. You’re all ready for the parade.”
Patrick babbled something incomprehensible.
Fannie gaped at her. “You look just like Mrs. Claus, Aunt Maggie.”
She meant the image Sum had suggested over dinner one night when he’d told the children a story about Santa and his missus. There were no pictures Maggie knew of that showed Mrs. Claus. Sum had also dictated the dress design, which had turned out beautifully. She would thank him when she saw him later this morning. She dreaded the moment as much as she longed for it.
Maggie smiled and curtseyed, holding out a berry red skirt to reveal gold and white petticoats. The sleeves and collar were trimmed with lace, as was the bonnet. “Why, I am Mrs. Claus. Who’s Aunt Maggie?”
Fannie giggled.
Patrick teetered as he struck out on his own. Maggie scooped him into her arms and gave him a kiss on his pudgy cheek. He patted her hair, and powder filled the air.
“Your hair is dusty,” Fannie pointed out.
“Dusty?” Maggie captured Patrick’s hand before he could ruin her coiffeur. “My hair is gray, dear. I’m not a spring chicken.”
“Kee,” Patrick said.
“She’s not a kitty, either,” Fannie replied. She seemed to have a fine grasp on Patrick’s unique language, even if his logic didn’t make sense. “When will Santa Claus be here?”
“Not until ten,” her father replied. David passed by the potbellied stove without stopping to add fuel. Sum always made sure his store remained toasty.
“Why don’t you add a bit more wood?” Maggie suggested. “Make it warmer. The air is very chilly, and I’m sure the children are cold.”
David returned to the stove and adjusted the dampers. “Feels the same as it always does. No one’s complained.” He didn’t add, except you.
Maggie secured Patrick’s little coat, battling a surprising surge of resentment with a good dose of reason. It wasn’t so cold the children would get ill. David made sure of that. He was just thrifty. Sum’s extravagance with fuel could be a sign that he was wasteful. Except, he hadn’t wasted a single moment of time they’d been together. He had filled every minute with wonderful memories.
She set Patrick down, not wanting the children to see her tears. “Here, Fannie. Can you take him before he pats all the powder out of my hair? It’s making my eyes water.”
“Yes, Aunt Maggie. I mean, Mrs. Claus.”
David held out a handful of peppermint candies. “Victoria finished putting the bags of candy together. I saved some extra peppermints for you.”
“You smell of peppermint…I love peppermint.”
Maggie caught a sharp breath as Sum’s voice slipped into her thoughts. The tears started up again. Alarmed, she spun around and made for the front door. “No, thank you. I’d rather you save it for the children.” Her voice came out wobbly, but at least she didn’t break down. “I should see if Santa’s sleigh has arrived yet.”
Before she reached the knob, her brother’s hand fell on her shoulder. “The door is still locked. It’s not even eight.”
She bit her lip. Shuddered. Teetered on the edge of control.
“Fannie, take Patrick with you and go find your mother.” David’s voice resonated in the quiet store. After a moment, he put both hands on Maggie’s shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. “The children are gone,” he said softly.
She turned into his arms, fighting tears. “I’m sorry. I’ve been very emotional of late. I…I’m worried about collecting enough gifts for the orphans. It would be terrible if some of them were left out.”
David patted her back in a big brother fashion. “They won’t be. I spoke with the other merchants, and they’ve promised to cover any shortfall. You won’t have to depend on Sumner. He’s made promises he can’t deliver on, I suspect.”
She stiffened at her brother’s critical tone. “Mr. Sumner will do his part, I’m sure.”
“Maggie…” David spoke her name low and urgent. “Tell me what happened between you and Sumner the other night. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? What did he do to you?”
She drew back, under better control now, and met her brother’s worried gaze. “If you must know, he proposed.”
“He what?” David’s angry reaction was to be expected.
“Don’t get upset. I turned him down.” Maggie swallowed the thickness in her throat. She couldn’t let on that she was heartbroken, or give any sign of regretting her decision.
“Why did you turn Mr. Sumner down?” Victoria’s question came from the back of the store.
David turned abruptly. “Why wouldn’t she turn him down? He’s an unprincipled rascal.”
Sum wasn’t a rascal, most of the time, and he had a deep core of honor, despite a few questionable practices, such as kissing her in public.
Before she could speak, Victoria replied. “I didn’t ask your opinion of him, David. I want to hear what Maggie thinks. She’s spent quite a lot of time with him lately.”
“Only because he tricked her into being part of the parade,” her husband shot back.
“From what I heard, she volunteered.”
“Are you defending Sumner?”
Oh dear, David hadn’t frowned like that at Victoria since she’d forgiven him for being a nincompoop and put him out of his misery by marrying him.
“I’m not defending anyone, except Maggie.” Victoria planted her hands on her hips. She took that position when she was put out, or prepared to go to war.
Maggie groaned. Pitting her brother and sister-in-law against each other was exactly what she did not want to do. She stepped between them with a confession. “Yes, I have been spending time with Mr. Sumner, and we…we’ve become friends.”
In spite of what she’d told Sum, she still considered him her friend. When—or if—he got around to forgiving her, he might consider her a friend as well. She hoped they could go back to being friendly acquaintances, if she could bear seeing him without bursting into tears.
“He’s not a rascal. He’s a very nice man. But, he’s not the right man for me.”
Her brother gave a satisfied nod. “There you go. She’s told you what she thinks.”
Victoria dropped her battle stance. “If you don’t return Mr. Sumner’s affections, then you did the right thing by ending it.” She didn’t sound as if she believed this to be the case.
“No, I can’t return his affections.” Spinning the truth out of joint was more difficult than Maggie expected. The truth, however, was too frightening to consider. She couldn’t be in love with a man she hardly knew…even if he did make her heart race.
Victoria had entered the store trailed by the children. Fannie peered from around her back. Patrick had dropped to his knees to examine something on the floor and almost had it in his mouth when his mother scooped him up. She tugged a length of string out of his chubby fist and took him to David. “He’s developed an appetite for anything that might choke him. Will you watch him while I help Maggie fix her hair?”
That was secret code for “let’s have a talk.”
“The store opens soon. Don’t be bending Maggie’s ear for too long.”
Apparently, David had cracked the code.
He took Patrick into his arms and ruffled his son’s hair. Maggie’s breath caught at the tender gesture. She couldn’t help thinking about how much she’d love to have a little boy with flaming hair and crystal blue eyes.
“Fannie?” Victoria held up the string. “The cats might enjoy this.”
“I’ll take it to them.” Fannie wound the string around her finger and pattered back to the storeroom, where the two cats prowled when they weren’t curled up by the stove.
“Will you come upstairs with me for a minute?” Victoria asked. “We won’t be long. Patrick messed up your hair. I’ll fix it.”
Maggie knew her sister-in-law was too tactful to challenge her decision or outright tell her what she should do, something her older brother considered his prerogative. Victoria expressed her concern in a less direct manner. Nevertheless, Maggie didn’t want to talk about Sum.
“My hair is fine.” Maggie checked the watch pinned to her bodice. “It’s almost time to go.”
Victoria accepted the rebuff with a dignified nod. “Are you ready, then?”
No, she wasn’t ready to face Sum. Her heart was too raw, her emotions too close to the surface. She felt like a snowflake in a blizzard, and it terrified her to think she couldn’t stop what had been put into motion when she’d walked into Sumner’s store to ask for his assistance.
David carried his son to the front door and unlocked it. “Let’s take a peek outside and see if we spy any reindeer.”
Patrick squirmed to get down. His eyes were on the shiny ornaments adorning a Christmas tree that formed the centerpiece of a window display. Rather than risk disaster, David lifted the child to his shoulders. Patrick grabbed his father’s hair and rocked excitedly on his favorite perch. He yanked so hard that David took told of his hands.
“You’re his favorite horse,” Maggie quipped.
David bounced, giving his son a gleeful ride. “You’re wise to stay away from Sumner. He’s vain and self-centered. Not a man you can depend on.”
Maggie’s temper flared into a full-fledged blaze. She faced her brother with her hands on her hips. “Why do you feel the need to criticize him? He’s done nothing worse than move in across the street and open a shop. There’s no law that says he can’t do that.”
Her brother gaped at her as if a holly bush had suddenly sprouted from her head.
She was just getting started. She’d not allow David to make Sum out to be a scoundrel because he wasn’t a scoundrel.
“Mr. Sumner runs a successful business. Even you have learned something from watching him.” She gestured at the interior of the store, which over the past two years had been expanded, and improved with new lighting, wider aisles and prices clearly marked on merchandise. “One could say you took his best ideas and benefited from his knowledge.”
“David didn’t take anything.” Victoria came to her husband’s defense and to his side. Her expression remained polite, but her tone had a sharp edge. “Mr. Sumner doesn’t own those concepts. He’s doing what stores in the east have been doing for several years, which I suggested David might try.”
Maggie wasn’t surprised or offended by her sister-in-law’s protective streak, which extended to her as well. Although David didn’t really need protecting, with the possible exception of his hair.
Victoria retrieved Patrick before the toddler snatched his father bald-headed. She lovingly combed her fingers through her husband’s mussed hair. “Maggie, you know your brother wouldn’t steal from anyone.”
David grasped Victoria’s wrist, pulled her closer and pressed a quick kiss on her lips, making her blush. “Except for kisses. I steal those all the time.”
Their easy affection usually made Maggie happy, but today it made her jealous.
David released his wife’s arm, and when he turned to Maggie his smile fell away. “Sumner didn’t just move here and open a store. He moved in, intending to take my customers and put me out of business. He’ll climb over anyone and everyone to get what he wants. I’ll admit he’s not unique in that way, but is that the kind of man you want?”
Under attack, Maggie took a step backwards. “I didn’t say I want him.”
“Your eyes say it.”
She shook her head, frantic to deny the truth because she knew it would hurt her brother if he thought she was in love with Gordon Sumner. “I could never marry someone who would harm you. I’m just saying he’s not as bad as you think. He is competitive, yes, but he’s got a big heart. He’s been paying Anna Smith higher wages ever since her Pa died…and he came up with this idea for the parade as a way to collect gifts for the orphans.”
Maggie tore away from her brother’s accusing gaze and crossed to the front window. Snow no longer fell and people were starting to venture outside. Soon, the sleigh would arrive and she would put on a happy face and pretend to be Sum’s wife. Rather, Mr. Claus’s bride.
If only make-believe could be true.
She knew Sum wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t right for her, but that didn’t stop her from wanting him. He’d been good to her, and his flirting and teasing had been good for her. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have fun. She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing they were his arms. “I don’t remember playing much as a girl. Sum teases me, and makes everything we do together fun.”
David’s voice came from behind. “Sis, I’m glad he can make you smile. But you know he got you into that parade for his own reasons. It’ll give him fine publicity, and he managed to work it out so he doesn’t have to spend much of anything to look good.”
Her brother’s hands came to rest on her shoulders, for the first time feeling heavy, burdensome. “Take care, Mageen.”
Her throat tightened at the childhood term of endearment. She didn’t recall her father using it, but David did. He’d been ten when their parents died in that terrible fire. Old enough to remember. All she recalled was her mother’s scent—rosewater—and her father’s thick Irish brogue. No photographs survived. Folks said David was the spitting image of his father. She also had their father’s dark coloring and wry sense of humor. The only inheritance from her mother, as far as she could see, was the watch pinned close to her heart.
“What do you suppose Ma and Da would’ve advised?” she asked without turning around.
David remained silent for a moment, perhaps thinking. He wasn’t spontaneous, like Sum. Her brother reflected before he spoke or acted, especially if it concerned something important.
“They would’ve told you to listen to your heart.”