This was the point in a conversation where Tucker would usually ask a woman out.
He and Kenna Hart had been reminiscing about their high school days for well over a half hour while his mom had herded the kids into their groups and led them into the town hall’s sanctuary, where she sat them in neat rows. They’d both offered their help, but she had a system, and no one could mess with Birdie’s sense of order. Well, that and he suspected his sweet mama didn’t think it was such a bad idea for him to be chatting up Kenna Hart.
If it hadn’t been for what Kenna had gone through in the last year, he might agree with his mom, but he couldn’t ask the woman out. (A) she likely wouldn’t be interested in going anyway, given the hell her ex-husband had recently put her through. And (B) she didn’t exactly fit his criteria for the casual, no-strings arrangement he typically preferred.
He couldn’t deny that Kenna was a real stunner—with shoulder-length hair the color of mahogany and delicate skin that made her green eyes stand out, but the two of them lived in different worlds—she was fully immersed in the young suburbia family scene while he maintained a detached freedom on the small ranch he’d purchased near the Cortez place, where he worked as manager.
“I guess I’d better head over to the piano so I can get organized too.” Kenna’s smile landed somewhere between shy and cautious. “It was nice talking to you.”
Surprisingly, it had been nice. To hear everyone in town talk, Kenna was barely hanging on after the divorce, but that wasn’t how it seemed to him. She’d held up her end of the conversation and had even smiled and laughed some. Tucker gave her a nod. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, working on the pageant and all.” Which would be tricky given the way he could tell his mom’s hopes were growing bigger and bigger every time she looked in their direction.
Not gonna happen.
“See you around, then.” Kenna ducked away and headed for the right side of the stage, where they’d set up the baby grand piano earlier.
His mom now stood on the center of the stage, addressing the kids, so Tucker headed for the vestibule where he’d stashed the tools and wood scraps he’d need to build the new set. Thankfully, that would keep him too busy to spend much more time getting any fancy ideas about Kenna. His mom wanted him to build a stable from scratch, complete with a bright star fashioned out of twinkling Christmas lights. He’d already drawn up some plans, but he’d have to measure the stage to see exactly how this would work.
In the hallway, he dug through one of his tool chests until he found a measuring tape and then headed back to the sanctuary. He stepped through the doors right as the music started. Kenna sat at the piano, her shoulders straight and tall, eyes focused on sheet music in front of her while her hands moved effortlessly over the keys.
Damn, she really was a beautiful woman. And off-limits, he reminded himself with a grunt. She taught music at an elementary school. She had a couple of kids. A mortgage. A woman like her would likely want a guarantee once she was ready to think about a relationship again. And he sure as hell wasn’t a guarantee.
“She’s very talented, isn’t she?” his mom whispered. She must’ve snuck up behind him when he’d had his eyes on the forbidden fruit.
“She can play, that’s for sure.” He glanced sideways at his mom’s face, trying to get a read on how long she’d been watching him watch Kenna.
“And she’s such a sweet girl,” his mom prompted. “Single too now, you know.”
And nice. Too nice for him. He turned to the stage, blocking out his mom’s not-so-subtle hints. “Do you want the stable to cover the whole stage? I thought we could put the risers for the angel choir over there.” He pointed to the side opposite the piano.
Disappointment pinched the corners of her mouth, but she seemed to let it go. “Whatever you think is fine, son. You’re the expert. I’d better get up there and direct these kids. They’re not even singing in the right key.” She took a step away from him but seemed to wobble, and then stopped suddenly.
He reached out to steady her. “You okay?”
“Of course.” She shook her head and smiled like she did every time she thought he was being ridiculous. “I’m fine. My knee’s been acting up lately.”
He narrowed his gaze, looking for anything that would dispute that statement. “You sure that’s all it is?”
“I’m sure.” She patted his arm. “Goodness, you really shouldn’t worry so much. It’s not good for you, you know.”
Tucker studied his mom. Did her face look pale? She hadn’t had a bad lupus flare-up for nearly two years, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. “Maybe you should sit down.” He took her arm, but she wriggled away.
“Sit down?” she huffed. “We only have three weeks of rehearsals. I’m fine.” She marched up the stage steps with purpose as though she wanted to prove it. “All right, kids.” She clapped her hands and Kenna stopped playing. “That sounded good, but I think we can make it even better.”
Tucker kept his eyes on her while she conducted the kids in an off-key rendition of “Go Tell It on the Mountain.” No more wobbling, so that was a good sign. Still, he’d have to make her set up an appointment with her doctor in the next few days. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in for a checkup, and those flare-ups could come without warning.
His mom caught him watching her and shooed him away. Right. He’d better get going on that stable. Tucker whipped the measuring tape out of his back pocket and sauntered over to the stage, doing his best to stay on the outskirts so he didn’t become a distraction. He quickly took the measurements he needed and retreated to the storage room where he’d stashed more of his supplies.
The cramped room was filled with random crap—props and fake plants and signs for just about every festival Topaz Falls celebrated throughout the year. Then there was the wood he’d laid out earlier. He’d need a couple more 4x4s to build the stable’s posts, and—
“Whatcha doin’?”
The tiny voice came from the doorway. Tucker turned around and watched a little boy with blond hair walk in. Kenna’s youngest son if he wasn’t mistaken. He’d seen them at the Farm Café a few times. Cute kid. “I’m getting ready to build a new stable for the play,” he said, walking over. “What’re you doing?”
The kid quickly looked down at the floor like he knew he wasn’t currently doing what he should be. “I saw you by the stage,” he nearly whispered. “With that measure thing. I wanted to know what it was.”
“It’s my measuring tape.” Tucker took a knee next to him and pulled it out of his back pocket. “See? That’s how I know how big to build the new stable. All these numbers show me.” He offered it to the boy.
“Wow.” He took it from Tucker’s hand and carefully pulled out the tape a few times before handing it back. “I’m Benny,” he said, his voice seeming to gain confidence.
“Benny, huh?” Tucker stuck the measuring tape back in his pocket and stood. “I thought you were an angel.”
“My mom calls me angel sometimes.” Benny’s mouth perked into a shy grin. “I’m not an angel all the time, though.”
Could’ve fooled him with that grin and curly blond hair. “Well I’ll bet you’re real good at singing,” Tucker said. “In fact, why don’t we go back to the stage so I can hear you sing?” Before his mom realized he was gone and got all worried.
“Okay,” Benny agreed, holding out his hand like he wanted Tucker to take it. That was a first. He didn’t know if it was his height or his gruffness that held kids off, but they usually didn’t warm up to him so quickly. Tucker’s hand seemed to swallow up Benny’s when he took it. So small and fragile. He looked down at the kid, struck with a sudden instinct to protect him.
“I can’t wait to see what you build,” Benny said as they walked back down the hallway side by side. “This is gonna be the best pageant ever. I didn’t get to be in it last year. We had to go to California for Christmas.” He looked up at Tucker and made a face. “There wasn’t even any snow there.”
“No snow?” Tucker shook his head. “What kind of Christmas is that?”
“I know!” The kid stopped before they reached the doors to the sanctuary. “But this year, we get to be home. And we get to do all the Christmassy stuff. Even the pageant. It’s the most important thing.”
That was surprising. Didn’t every kid think Santa was the most important part of Christmas? “Why is the pageant so important?” Tucker couldn’t quit smiling at the enthusiasm that seemed to light the boy up from the inside.
“Because it’s been kind of lonely.” Benny’s voice quieted. “With my daddy gone. But at the pageant, we get to be with all our friends and so many people and everyone is happy. That’s the best part about Christmas. Everyone being together.”
The words inflicted a niggling pain that slipped beneath Tucker’s ribs. He remembered that after his dad left. The loneliness. But instead of seeking out connections with people like Benny seemed to being doing, he’d shut down that part of himself.
“So what’s your favorite Christmas song to sing?” Benny tugged on his hand and started toward the doors.
“Oh. Uh…” Tucker couldn’t remember the last time he’d sung a Christmas song. “Well, I guess it would have to be ‘Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town.’” At least that’s what it had been when he was a kid.
Benny’s eyes got even bigger. “That’s mine too!” He broke out into song, hitting all the right notes, while Tucker led him into the sanctuary.
Instead of music and singing, the room was complete pandemonium. All of the kids were gathered around the stage, and some of them were crying.
What the—
“Find Tucker!” Kenna yelled from where she crouched on her knees in the center of the stage.
As a couple of kids dashed to follow her instruction, he saw his mom lying on the floor next to Kenna.
It took him a second to move, to let go of Benny’s hand and sprint down the aisle. He stumbled up the steps to where his mom lay and knelt across from Kenna, but his throat burned too hot to speak.
“She collapsed,” Kenna said, her voice shaky. “I’ve called an ambulance. They’re on their way.” She held his mom’s hand in both of hers. “I feel a pulse. It’s weak, but I still feel it.”
Tucker nodded, everything blurred and slow and surreal. He touched his mom’s forehead. “Mom. Wake up.” He should’ve known she wasn’t okay. He should’ve made her sit down. Or better yet, he should’ve taken her right to the hospital.
Sirens whined in the distance, but he couldn’t do anything while they waited. He couldn’t help her, couldn’t fix anything when he didn’t know what was wrong.
“Kids…” Kenna looked up at the crowd surrounding them. “I need you to give us some space. Okay? The paramedics will be here in a minute and we need space. Please go sit in your seats. Everything will be fine.”
Tucker latched on to those words as the kids slowly scattered. Everything would be fine. His mom would be fine.
“Hold on, Mom,” he murmured over her. She had to hold on.