A Christmas Homecoming (10 page)

Bailey reached for a Christmas book she’d purchased in October and moved over to the steel-gray armchair beside her desk. Good thing it was a sweet romance rather than another thriller. She turned it around to face the window and snuggled into the seat. A gentle snow, not more than a mist, cascaded from the sky, sparkling in the moonlight. The beauty of Central Oregon caused her creativity to work overtime. She set the unopened book aside, slipped off her glasses, and closed her eyes, envisioning the exact shape and size of the Christmas tree she wanted for the house.

Mona might not be the kindest woman, but she hadn’t always been like that. Bailey determined this would be a Christmas to remember for her boss. This house would be decorated to the nines. Her muscles relaxed into the cushiony seat.

Bailey’s eyes flew open—darkness shrouded her room. She must have fallen asleep. Her heart pounded. What had awaked her? She listened, straining to understand why her heart was pounding.

Were those footsteps on the wood floor downstairs? She looked around the bedroom for a weapon, and the only thing that looked even somewhat lethal was a silver candlestick. Grabbing it from the dresser, she slunk to the door and peered out. She tiptoed down the hall toward the staircase.

Glass shattered. A deep voice said something unintelligible.

A small scream escaped, and she slapped a hand over her mouth. She should have called the police and hidden. Maybe it wasn’t too late. The lights were off all around her, but moonlight illuminated the interior via the skylights, allowing her to see easily enough. Wait—that couldn’t all be from the moon—a light shone in the great room. A burglar wouldn’t turn a lamp on—at least a smart one wouldn’t.

Every part of her wanted to dash back to her room, call the police, and hide under the covers, but whoever was here needed to be dealt with now. The outline of a person came into view as he moved toward the door. Suddenly he dropped, and a thud sounded. He groaned. Her pulse thrummed in her ears. With a shaking hand, she reached for the stairway light switch and flipped it up. “Stephen! What are you doing?” Her voice sounded strained.

He lay sprawled on the floor near the front door. A box of Christmas decorations tipped on its side and several ornaments still rocked back and forth on the hardwood floor. It looked like a few glass bulbs had shattered, but it was difficult to be certain since she’d forgotten to slip on her glasses and details were fuzzy. His face reddened, and he sat up. “I . . . that is . . . hmm. This is really embarrassing.”

She trotted down the stairs. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride.” He staggered to his feet. “Watch out for the glass.”

She missed the last stair and stumbled into his arms. She caught her breath, and she willed her pulse to slow. His warm arms gently released her, making her wish he still held her. She stepped back. “Sorry. I’m not wearing my glasses and missed that last step.” Why was she always falling into this man? She must be more careful!

“Glad I was here to catch you.” He winked, then sobered. “Sorry for waking you. I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d surprise you, only not like this. It appears I slipped on the tree needles that fell off as I brought the tree inside.”

“Tree?”

“What do you think?” He motioned toward the great room to their left. A huge Douglas fir stood where Mona always displayed a tree.

“It’s nice, but I thought we were going to the lot together tomorrow.” Disappointment thickened her throat. She’d really looked forward to picking out the tree.

“I know, but you work so hard, and I have all this energy built up. I wanted to do something to make your life a little easier. Especially after yesterday.”

She waved the hand holding the candlestick. “Forget about yesterday. You apologized, and I accepted. End of story.” She frowned toward the tree. Maybe she shouldn’t judge it without her glasses, but from what she could see, Mona wouldn’t approve. “I appreciate your effort, but that scraggly tree doesn’t work for this room.”

“Scraggly! I beg to differ. This tree is perfect. You need to look at it with your glasses on.”

“Perhaps, but I’m the designer, remember. Mona always buys a Noble Fir from a lot. I can easily tell that’s not a Noble.”

He crossed his arms. A scowl covered his face.

“I’ve had a long day, my back hurts, and I’m beat. Do what you want, but make sure your mom knows you did it and not me.” She whirled around and marched up the stairs. “Please lock up on your way out.” She called over her shoulder then turned. “And you can’t come in here at all times of the day or night. Not if your mom isn’t here. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

A soft chuckle turned into an all-out laugh. “Lady, you are not at all what I thought you were. I’ll take the tree with me to my place. Mom probably
would
prefer a Noble Fir.”

She turned slowly, then slunk back down the stairs. “It’s late. This will keep until morning, including the broken bulb.” The mantle clock read ten minutes to midnight.

“Remember—can’t sleep.” He pointed to his gorgeous deep blue eyes.

“Right.” She pressed her lips together then squared her shoulders. “I’ll help.”

“Oh no, you won’t. I managed to get the tree in here on my own, I can get it out.”

“Then I’ll carry the ornaments.”

“Nice try. I’ll get those too.”

She shook her head. “It will take you forever, and I won’t be able to sleep until this place is locked up. You may not have anything pressing first thing in the morning, but I have a consultation, and I need my sleep. I’ll put the box on the front porch, so you won’t need to come back inside.” She held out her hand.

“What?”

“The key.” Palm out, she wiggled her fingers.

“You’re being ridiculous, but if it helps you to sleep, I promise to not use my key except in case of an emergency.” He raised a brow challenging her to argue.

Maybe she was overreacting, but it really did freak her out to have someone in the house at all hours of the night. How was she to know he wasn’t a burglar? But based on the firm look on his face, he wouldn’t relinquish his key. She lowered her hand. “Fine. I’ll get the broom and dustpan.” She whirled around and marched to the utility closet. She glanced in a large mirror resting against a wall on the way and cringed. Her wild hair and mascara-induced raccoon eyes gave her the look of a maniac. Though tempted to sneak into the guest bathroom and make herself more presentable, she instead grabbed the broom and dustpan.

“You get lost?” Stephen came up behind her.

She squealed. “Will you please stop scaring me?”

He chuckled. “I’m really sorry. I’m not meaning to.” He rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his head to the side and giving her a sheepish smile.

Bailey grinned. “Apology accepted.” She thrust the cleaning supplies into his hand. “But you get the honors.”

“No problem.” He brushed the shards into a pile.

Five minutes later, the glass was cleaned up. She helped him carry the tree outside as far as the porch.

“I’ll get it from here. Thanks.” He turned and dragged the tree through the snow toward his cabin.

She placed the box outside and slid the lock into place. A small smile tipped her lips as she headed to bed. She’d been a little hard on Stephen, but he didn’t seem to mind. Life around the Belafonte house had turned interesting since his arrival. What would the man do next?

Chapter Seven

Saturday afternoon, Stephen followed Bailey down a row of Christmas trees. Carolers serenaded shoppers near an outdoor fireplace as young children scampered between the rows of trees. He could imagine his niece and nephew doing the same. “How about this one.” He pulled a seven-foot Noble Fir from the stand and held it upright.

She circled the tree and shook her head. “Nope. It needs to be fuller on the bottom.”

He hadn’t realized what an overachiever the woman was. His own tree, though imperfect, fit his cabin perfectly; at least it did once he cut off the bottom two feet.

After he’d dragged it to his home, he was too tired to decorate and left the tree natural. The ornaments Bailey left on the porch were his mom’s anyway. He needed to get decorations of his own. Rebecca hadn’t been a fan of Christmas and never wanted a tree. She thought they were too messy. “When we’re done here, do you mind stopping someplace to purchase ornaments and lights?”

She shook her head. “Of course not, but your mom has plenty.”

“I was thinking of picking up some for my tree.”

Bailey stopped and faced him. “You don’t have any?”

He shook his head.

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Then why did you leave the box of ornaments on the porch?”

“Those are my mom’s decorations. I want my own.”

“I didn’t think of that.” She pushed her glasses up higher on her perfect nose and pressed her lips together. “You know what would be fun?”

“Hmm?” For some reason the image of her from his late night visit filled his mind, and he held back a laugh. Her look today was a far cry from her disheveled appearance last night. Today she wore crisp looking jeans with brown boots that went to her knees, along with a hunter green jacket. Her hair hung loose down her back, somewhat disheveled but still managed to appear soft and shiny. He reached his hand up to touch it, then stopped. What was he doing? He couldn’t touch her hair. He dragged his gaze away from her hair and focused on her face.

Excitement shone in Bailey’s eyes. “Since your tree is so rustic, it would be neat to use all homemade ornaments and colored lights. You could have the kids come over and make an afternoon of creating ornaments for your tree.”

“That sounds like fun, but do you think Lacy and Collin would agree?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah. Those two had a blast helping me decorate last year.”

He frowned. It seemed even before his mother’s stroke, Bailey spent a great deal of time with his entire family. No wonder the kids loved her. “Does Judy ask you to watch the kids a lot?”

“More now that she’s working fulltime, but I offered to watch them last Christmas so she could shop and not have to worry about picking them up from school. We made a party out of it. Your mom loved it.” She chuckled, and her face took on a dreamy expression. “Mona had the kids stringing popcorn and berries. They had their own small tree to decorate. Later that night after I went home, they watched Christmas movies until late. Lacy said they ended up spending the night.” She shook her head, as if coming back to reality, gave him a disarming smile, and strolled up the next aisle.

He’d missed so much. Regret washed over him, and he determined now, even more than before, to make this year a Christmas to remember.

“Perfect!” She grinned and pointed.

The tree stood at least three feet taller than his nearly six feet. “It’s a giant.”

“Yes, and your mom will love it.”

He pulled out his wallet. “Okay.” He made arrangements to have the tree delivered the following morning, then spotted Bailey in the parking lot talking with the same guy he’d seen with her at the mountain. She’d said there wasn’t anything between them, but now he wondered. He sidled up to her. “All set?”

She smiled, but worry showed in her eyes. “Sure. Stephen, this is my friend Spencer. He’s a police officer in Sunriver.”

Spencer reached out his hand. “Good to meet you. Bailey tells me you bought the king of all trees.”

“She’d be right.” Why did he sense unease in Bailey? What had changed from a few minutes ago? Did this Spencer guy make her uneasy?

Spencer chuckled. “Sounds like a lot of work to me.” He waved and sauntered off toward the trees.

“Nice guy.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know him well. He’s more of a friend of a friend. You know how that is. So, where to next?” She looked nervously toward the parking lot.

“Everything okay?”

She nodded then shook her head. “See that silver car?”

He looked the direction she indicated. “What about it?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like everywhere I go it’s there.”

Unease settled on him. “Should I try and catch Spencer and have him check it out?”

“No! Forget I said anything. I’m sure it’s only my overactive imagination. It’s probably not even the same vehicle.”

He glanced toward the car again and noted the make and model. A newer Toyota Camry. He’d keep an eye out. Bailey’s concern was enough for him to be extra vigilant—imagination or not. “Okay then. You ready to go to the craft store?”

“Yes.”

He noted that the car followed them from the tree lot, but it could be a coincidence. The Camry stayed a few car lengths back, but he never lost sight of it. The knot in his stomach tightened. Why would someone follow Bailey? From what he’d seen of her, she lived a quiet life.

A few miles down the road he signaled and turned into the craft store’s parking lot. The silver car kept going. His shoulders relaxed.
Whew!
Bailey’s paranoia had rubbed off on him. He parked and escorted her inside.

With Bailey’s expertise, they made quick work of buying supplies to decorate his tree then headed home. “Have you made any progress on finding an assistant?”