An hour before the guests were due, Garret changed into dark jeans and a thick fisherman knit sweater that would keep him warm for the evening festivities, many of which took place outdoors.
One more time he checked his email hoping for something from Jimmy. His mother would be so happy if his younger brother actually showed up for the festivities this year.
But there was no message.
No one in the family even knew where Jimmy was living these days. He’d last been home for their father’s sixtieth birthday party, but had stayed only one night for that. He hadn’t told any of them where he was going or what he was up to.
Lucky thing their parents hadn’t been depending on him to run the family business.
Garret checked his reflection, stooping a little to see in a mirror that had been hung when he was a young boy. After Sara’s death his parents had invited him and Duncan to move back into the family home. Though not ideal, it had been a practical solution to Garret’s new childcare dilemma. Who better to take care of Duncan, than his doting grandmother?
And frankly Garret had been relieved not to have to face all the memories in the house he’d shared with Sara.
Downstairs, he found his mom in the foyer with Duncan. She had him bundled into his snowsuit and was trying to convince him to wear his mittens.
As soon as he spotted his dad, Duncan stopped resisting and held out his hands. Sylvia triumphantly pulled on one red mitten, then the other.
“Is the party starting, Dad?”
“Just about.” He slipped on his sheepskin jacket and stepped into his boots. “Want to be the first one on the toboggan hill?”
Duncan grinned. “Will you come with me?”
Garret hesitated. There was so much to do—but he had Lily to count on now, he reminded himself. One of his mother’s main reasons for hiring her—besides wanting to reduce her own commitment to the business—had been so he would have more time for his son.
“Sure. Let’s get the first run in together.”
“But then you have to work?”
“Then I have to work,” he agreed. He kissed his mother’s cheek on the way out the door. “Thanks, Mom.”
“It’s my pleasure. You boys have fun. I’ll grab my things and join you in about in fifteen minutes.”
The evening began without a hitch. Soon over a hundred people were milling around the Old Sugar Shack. Many of the younger ones were on the toboggan hill or the skating rink. Others were filling their plates with ham, maple-flavored baked beans and crispy coleslaw.
Every time Garret spotted Lily she was working the crowd and handling problems in her own calm, capable way. But he knew her well enough now that he could tell her smile was a little tense and she was holding her shoulders tighter than usual.
Maybe she’d hurt herself in that fall and just hadn’t admitted it. He wanted to ask her. But though it almost seemed like she was capable of being in two places at the same time, never was one of those places anywhere near Garret. He tried lingering under the mistletoe hoping for a second chance to catch her there.
But all he got for his troubles was a kiss from April Rochester, Jimmy’s old high school flame. As she leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek she asked about Jimmy.
“Haven’t heard from him in months,” Garret said.
“That’s Jimmy, I guess.” April shrugged, then took the hand of her ten-year-old adopted son Marcus. Marcus was autistic and showed no reaction when Garret said hello. Garret glanced up at April, somewhat disheartened because kids usually liked him.
“Don’t take it personally,” was her advice.
“Maybe Marcus would like to visit Santa?” he asked, wanting to think of something that would make the boy happy.
April’s polite smile told him Marcus wouldn’t like that, either. “We’re going to eat now. Thanks though.”
Garret turned to check the Santa line-up and was surprised to see his son had joined the queue on his own. Great—this was his chance to find out what Duncan wanted for Christmas. Discreetly he made his way to the sidelines where he could listen in without being seen.
Santa—in actual fact Sandy, his fifty-four year old admin manager—winked at Garret as she invited Duncan to sit on her lap, her voice convincingly deep and booming.
“Have you been a good boy this year, Duncan?”
Duncan bit his lip before confessing. “I knocked Ms. Parker off the ladder. And I ran.”
“Well, you won’t knock Ms. Parker off the ladder again, will you?”
“No. But I might run,” Duncan confessed with all honesty.
Sandy, most of her face concealed with her fake white beard, smiled. “Fair enough, Duncan. So now tell me. What would you like for Christmas?”
Just as Duncan was about to speak, Lily appeared at Garret’s side. She was holding her clipboard and clearly needed to consult him about something. A rush of pleasure made him feel, for just a moment, like a much younger, less burdened man.
He held a finger to his lips, rolling his eyes toward his son, sitting on Santa’s lap. Lily nodded, and fell silent, so they both heard very clearly when Duncan said, “The main thing I want I can’t have. So...I guess I’d like to go the North Pole.”
Garret’s lighthearted mood crashed with that. It didn’t take a genius to realize the thing Duncan wanted but couldn’t have was his mother. He glanced from his son, to his PR manager.
“The North Pole. My son wants to go to The North Pole. Think you can help me arrange that?”
She looked equally surprised. And somewhat sympathetic. “Afraid not. You’re on your own for this one, boss.”
* * *
It was the wee ones that got to her the most. The babies in strollers or their parents’ arms, waiting for that first picture with Santa Claus. Most of them just ended up crying, but that seemed to be part of the ritual. If given a choice Lily would have run in the opposite direction, but the choir director had insisted she get Garret’s approval of the second set before they began.
“That crazy kid. Asking to visit the North Pole.” Garret shook his head.
“At least he isn’t asking for a bunch of material possessions,” Lily said, searching for something positive to say.
But Garret didn’t seem to take much comfort from that. “Toys I can buy. But I can’t do anything about the North Pole.”
He looked so handsome tonight. He hadn’t had time to shave, and his nine o’clock shadow emphasized his strong jaw and determined chin. You’d never guess that at heart he was a softy until you saw his eyes. He had the most amazing, warm, hazel eyes, made even more arresting thanks to thick, dark lashes.
Right now, however, those eyes were filled with pain and worry. It was impossible not to sympathize with his predicament. Duncan had been only three years old when his mother died. From what Sylvia had told her, he’d been confused and sad for months. He kept asking where his mother was. And there was no answer any of them could give that would stop him from asking the same question an hour later.
Having been through so much sadness already, any father would want to spare his son further disappointment.
But Garret wasn’t just any father. He was a man who cared deeply about the people he loved.
After working with him for two months, Lily already knew this.
Just as she knew that she could easily fall in love with him if she wasn’t careful. She had to be on constant guard to keep it from happening.
She handed him the clipboard. “Sorry to bother you with this but Debbie wants you to sign off on the program for the rest of the evening.”
Garret seemed to take the responsibility seriously as he scanned the list of familiar, traditional titles. “She was supposed to get this to me yesterday,” he grumbled, as he scratched his name on the line at the bottom. “But she’s included all of Mom’s favorites, so that’s okay.”
So that’s why he’d wanted to see the list. She should have realized there’d be a good reason. With Garret there usually was. He wasn’t the type of boss to set up rules and procedures when there wasn’t any reason for them.
“Thanks.” She reached for the clipboard. A mother with a daughter who looked about two was stepping up for their Sanata visit. She wanted to get out of here. Now.
But instead of releasing the clipboard, Garret looked at her with concern.
“How are you feeling? No aches or pains from that fall, earlier?”
“I’m fine.” She tried to force a bright smile. But with her peripheral vision she could see the little girl struggling to climb up into Santa’s lap, refusing her mother’s offer of help. She was so adorable, with all those red ringlets...
“You look pale.”
“That’s normal for me.” She gave an insistent tug and finally he released the clipboard. She sensed him watching as she headed outside. She’d expected the evening to be emotionally difficult, but the reality was worse.
There were children in New York City, of course, but where she’d worked and lived, she hadn’t noticed as many of them as she did here. She supposed it was logical that lots of young families would be drawn to live in a town like Carol Falls. But she hadn’t thought about that when she took the job. She’d been so anxious to leave, so anxious for a fresh start.
She just needed to get through December. Once Christmas was over, it would get easier.
* * *
Something was troubling Lily. Garret wished he knew what it was. She usually had one of those smiles that radiated warmth.
But today she’d been different. Tonight, too.
She’d told him she was fine. So for now, he’d take her at her word.
He turned back to the crowd of kids, searching for Duncan. His son spotted him at that same moment and came running.
“I talked to Santa, Dad! And guess what? I’m going to the North Pole!”
Garret scooped him up and swung him through the air. He was rewarded with one of Duncan’s belly laughs. When he finally set him down, his son was still smiling.
“Isn’t it great, Dad?”
He sounded so excited. How was Garret going to readjust Duncan’s expectations without making him lose faith in the magic of Christmas? He was the only kid who had lined up to visit Santa without one of his parents at his side. Garret hated to think that he’d been too busy to notice this earlier.
“Well...I heard you ask Santa if you could go to the North Pole. But it’s pretty far from home.”
Duncan’s face grew serious. “Maybe you could come with me?”
“Maybe...but Santa’s awfully busy on Christmas, isn’t he? I wonder if he’ll have time to take you to the North Pole?”
“Oh.”
The poor kid looked crushed.
“Let’s think about it, okay?” He needed a distraction here. Big time. “Have you collected your treat bag yet?” There were dozens of cellophane wrapped bags available for the children after they’d visited with Santa. Chet Blackwell was dressed as an elf and was handing them out. But Duncan had been so pumped, he’d run right past him.
It was funny seeing big, burly Chet dressed in red tights and a pointed hat. He looked a lot more natural in his heavy winter coat, riding the tractor.
“Looking good, Chet,” Garret grinned as his son selected one of the treat bags.
Chet shrugged. “Kids are happy. That’s what counts.”
As Duncan pulled out his goodies, exclaiming at each one, Garret had to agree. No one believed more than himself that Christmas was for children. All the same, he couldn’t get Lily out of his mind. Whatever was bothering her tonight, wasn’t job related. He’d bet a case of Grade A Amber Maple Syrup on that.
* * *
“He was so determined to stay up until the party was over. Don’t think he’s going to make it.” Garret was standing with his parents by the bonfire. Fifteen minutes to ten and his son was conked out in a sleeping bag his grandmother had settled on a pile of hay, well back from the flames.
The bonfire, itself, was being attended by Peter, whose meticulous nature made him perfectly suited to ensuring that not so much as an ember strayed beyond the river rock enclosure.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have agreed to let him stay up so late?” Sylvia leaned against her husband, and Harold responded by putting his arms around her waist.
Garret found it inspiring that after thirty-five years of marriage, running a family business and raising three kids, his parents were still so affectionate and loving. There was the matter of the mystery year, when his mother had left their family for reasons unknown. Garret had been only four at the time. Thankfully his folks had resolved their problems, his mother had moved back, and the marriage had survived.
Though he’d been so young, Garret had never forgotten how it had felt to lose his mother so suddenly. He’d never complained out of fear that his mother would take him to that fearful place she called The Big Apple. But he’d missed her. And he hated the fact that his own son had had to experience the same fate. In his case, his mother had returned. But Sara never would.
The only way Garret could think to make up the loss for his son, was by being the best father he could possibly be. That was why, despite recent hints from his parents about dating again, he hadn’t even considered asking out any of the local, single women. His job and his son were going to be enough for him now. He simply didn’t have time for anything more.
But even as he had this thought, he noticed Lily’s blond hair as she moved through the crowd.
“One sleep deprived night won’t hurt him,” Harold pronounced. “I’m glad he was here. Almost makes up for the ones who are missing.”
“I do wish Jimmy had made it,” Sylvia agreed. “But Josephine couldn’t help that she had that course in Montpelier.”
“Being a police officer isn’t enough for her. She’s always upgrading,” Harold shook his head. “Wish Jimmy had some of her ambition.”
The choir finished Silent Night and the dozen or so people still hanging around the fire clapped their appreciation. Before they were finished, the next song began, one of his mother’s favorites, The Holly and The Ivy. Both Sylvia and Harold began singing. In his sleeping bag nest, Duncan didn’t even budge.
Garret checked the time. The evening would be wrapping up soon. One more carol after this one. The caterers had put away the food and Santa and his elves had retired over an hour ago. He went to check on the three high school kids he’d hired to sell raffle tickets. They’d handed out all the poinsettias and had announced the winner of the thirty pound turkey at nine-thirty. Now the kids were counting the proceeds and seeing how much they’d made for the Christmas baskets.
On his way, Garret bumped into a blonde woman who worked at the local bar. Her hair looked bleached and her smile was hard and just a little bit desperate as she reached out to stop him.
“Garret, hi, it’s great to see you.”
Her name came to him just in time. “Hi, Heather. Glad you could make it.”
“Jimmy isn’t here, by any chance, is he?”
“Sorry, no. Haven’t heard from him in a while. But that’s nothing new.”
Heather nodded, then hurried off, heading in the direction of the parking lot. Garret made a mental note to ask Jimmy about her the next time he spoke to him.
Spotting the kids, counting money by the light of a lantern that had been set up on a picnic table, he made his way over to them. “Did we break last year’s record?”
“I think so.” Sammy Lincoln was the sixteen-year-old son of the town mayor. He showed the cash count reconciliation to Garret, who whistled his appreciation.
“Nice work kids.” He clapped Sammy on the back, a big, solid boy with a good heart. Not many his age would be willing to give up a Friday night to help with a community cause like this one. “Who wants to announce the good news on stage?”
“Ivy should,” Sammy said quickly, pushing a cute girl with short brown hair, toward the wooden platform. She was wearing a coat that looked at least two sizes too big for her, and instead of boots, she had on worn sneakers.
“No way!” Ivy dug her heels into the snow and shoved him back. “You know I have to go home. You do it, Sammy.”
Garret could tell they liked one another. The girl, who happened to be the oldest daughter of one of the families that would likely be receiving one of their Christmas baskets, was blushing. He’d seen her mother, Verna Belmont, about thirty minutes ago, looking upset. She hadn’t answered when he’d asked where her husband, Oliver, and the four younger kids were. Instead she’d asked, “Have you see Ivy?”
“She’s selling raffle tickets.”
“Oh. Right.” And then she’d melted into the crowd and he hadn’t seen her since.
“Let’s do the announcement together,” Sammy countered.
Ivy ducked her head. “I have to go home.”
“Why?”
“I just do. Now.”
Sammy looked disbelieving as Ivy turned her back on him and headed toward the long driveway that led to the main road. “What the hell,” he muttered, “has gotten into her lately?”
Frost Farm was a mile from town, too far for a young girl to walk on her own on a chilly winter evening, Garret thought. Clearly Sammy felt the same way. He pulled out a set of car keys and ran after her.
“Those two make me sick,” announced the remaining teenager, Chet’s eldest daughter, Amanda. She was a pretty girl, but wearing too much make-up for a high school student, in Garret’s opinion. “I’ll make the announcement if you like, Mr. Frost.”
“Thanks, Amanda,” he said, his eyes still on Sammy and the Belmont girl. Sammy had caught up to her now and they seemed to be arguing about something.
“Ivy has been a real jerk lately,” Amanda sniffed. “I don’t know why Sammy puts up with her.”
By which statement, Garret gathered that Amanda was at least a little bit interested in Sammy herself. “As soon as this song ends, I’ll introduce you on stage.” He began ushering her forward, gesturing to the choir director that they needed to make an announcement. But just at that moment a buzzer went off. It sounded like a timer or a really loud alarm clock.
The choir abruptly stopped singing and everyone turned in the direction the sound had come from—the nativity scene.
And then a baby’s cry broke through the stillness.
A few hours ago, the sound wouldn’t have seemed out of place. But all of the families with really young children had already left.
At that moment, Lily stepped out of the barn. Her eyes grew wide as the baby gave a second cry. Could it possibly be...?
Even as Garret had the thought, Lily moved toward the wooden forms of Mary and Joseph, kneeling in the straw. She reached down into the manger and pulled out a bundle.
At first it seemed to be nothing but the blankets that Garret had given her to put in the manger two days ago.
But then a tiny fist poked its way through the warm layers and a third cry rang out.
Good God in heaven. There was a live baby in the manger.