A Down-Home Country Christmas (4 page)

Robbie nodded and fell into step beside her. She stole a glance sideways at the strongly etched line of his jaw, the delicious curl of his lips in a half-smile, and the tiny lines at the corner of his startlingly blue eyes. She felt his presence in the air around her, as though the warmth of his body permeated it.

She jerked her gaze forward to where the two girls and Grady were coming out of the stall. As the farmer turned to latch the lower half of the door, Noël put her head over it, opened her tooth-filled mouth, and brayed. Holly jumped as the ear-splitting sound bounced off the walls of the barn and battered her eardrums, making her heart pound so hard her chest hurt. The creature’s voice was as horrifying as its teeth.

“Good-bye, Noël.” Brianna stroked the donkey’s neck without flinching.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Kayleigh promised the donkey.

Grady shook his head again.

“We have to get back to school, girls.” Holly shooed them toward the barn door. “Thanks for letting us come back tomorrow, Mr. Boone.”

“Grady,” he said.

“Grady,” Holly amended with a smile. She herded the girls toward Robbie’s police cruiser. He was giving them a ride back to the school.

“Mrs. Snedegar,” Grady called as Robbie unlocked the car doors for them.

“Holly,” she corrected, turning to find the farmer standing in the frame of the barn door with his hands dangling at his sides.

“Reckon it might be a good thing to fix up that nativity scene,” Grady said. “Those girls of yours seem right fond of it.”

Delight at the old man’s change of heart made Holly grin like a fool. “We’ll be here after school to get started.”

Grady ducked his head in a nod and turned back into the barn.

As he met her gaze over the roof of his cruiser, Robbie’s eyes lit with satisfaction. “You just can’t say no to a kid at Christmastime.”

* * *

Robbie sat at his desk, staring at the computer screen. He had a boatload of paperwork to do but his brain was still back at the elementary school with Holly. The ride to Grady’s farm had been a combination of heaven and hell with her crushed up against his side in the cab of the truck, every bump and turn pressing her thigh and shoulder against his. He could smell the fresh scent of shampoo drifting up from the glossy waves of her hair, making him want to bury his face in the silky strands. When she turned to talk to him, he had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road because he just wanted to drink in her beautiful face, especially those soft, curving lips.

What was wrong with him?
He was headed for Atlanta and the chance to prove he could cut it in a big city police force, even make it to detective. He didn’t need any ties holding him back here in Sanctuary.

The screen went into sleep mode because he’d been motionless for so long. Muttering a curse, he jiggled the mouse as Pete stuck his head around his half-open door. Relieved by the distraction, he waved his friend toward the oak chair sitting in front of his desk.

Pete closed the door behind him, making Robbie sit up straight. He had an open door policy unless the conversation was confidential.

His friend dropped into the chair. “This is a personal matter, old buddy.”

“Should we be discussing it here?”

“You got something better to do?” Pete grinned at him.

Pete hit closer to home than he knew. “I guess not,” Robbie said. “Shoot.”

The grin vanished from Pete’s face as he sat forward and leaned his elbows on his spread knees. “Here’s the thing. I’m thinkin’ about asking Lori to marry me, but I don’t know what to do about the ring.” He ran a hand over his chin. “I mean, do I buy her one she might not like and give it to her when I propose? Or do I propose and then take her ring shopping? That doesn’t seem like it would be real romantic.”

Robbie rocked back in his chair. “You’re asking me for advice on a proposal? You must be desperate.”

“You’ve got a whole passel of sisters.”

So Pete hadn’t read his mind about Holly. Not that he had been considering proposing to her, but the two topics were closer together than he cared to admit. “It doesn’t matter what my sisters would want, it matters what Lori would prefer.” He thought about the strong, sassy woman Pete had been head-over-heels about for the past three years. “She’s crazy enough to be in love with you, so I think she’d want you to pick out the ring. You got any ideas about what she’d like?”

“She’s pointed out a ring or two she thought were pretty when we passed a jewelry store window. I just don’t remember them all that well.”

“Walk her past another jewelry store and pay attention to what she says this time.” Robbie stood up and came around the desk to shake his friend’s hand. “Lori’s a good lady. If she says yes, you’re a lucky man.”

Pete stood up with a grin. “She’ll say yes.” He started toward the door but turned. “I want you as my best man. You better plan me a helluva bachelor party.”

Robbie was about to give his buddy grief about being so cocky when it hit him that he would be in Atlanta at the time Pete’s bachelor party would need planning. It was another one of those ties to Sanctuary he didn’t want to have to fight against. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Pete, I need to tell you something, and it can’t go beyond this office.”

Pete’s expression turned serious. “What is it, Rob?”

“I’m leaving Sanctuary in February. I got a job in Atlanta with the police force there.” Robbie shoved his hands in his pockets. “No one knows except the chief and Paul Taggart because he got me the interview.”

“Holy crap! When did this happen?” Pete sat down hard in the chair.

“Couple of weeks ago.” Robbie shrugged. “Look, I can still plan a helluva a bachelor party. I just wanted you to know.”

“You had your mind set on getting out of here when you were younger, but I thought you’d settled in after you came back. You never talked about Chicago like you were happy there.” Pete shook his head. “I guess I should have figured out you weren’t putting down roots in Sanctuary since you’ve never taken out the same woman more than three times. That ain’t easy in this town.”

Robbie walked over to the small, square window and glanced out at the mountain of sand-flecked snow in the parking lot. “I’ve got things to prove to myself after Chicago. I was a rookie there, so I made mistakes. Not big ones, but I want to do it right this time.”

“Well, that competitive streak is what made you a good quarterback. I reckon it will make you a good detective too.” Pete stood up and gave Robbie a thump on the back. “I’ll miss you, buddy.”

Robbie’s sense of impending loss was almost as physical as Pete’s wallop on his back. “You too, Pete. If you want a local best man, I’ll understand.”

“Are you kidding me? We’ll all come down to Atlanta for the bachelor party. That way no one will know what trouble we get up to.”

Robbie hadn’t realized how much he wanted to stand by his friend at the wedding until he nearly lost the privilege. Relief rolled through him. “Why stop at Atlanta? Let’s go to Vegas!”

“Now you’re talkin’.” Pete gave him a mock salute and walked out the door, leaving it partly open once again.

Robbie slumped down into the vacant chair as he realized how many more good-byes like this he would have to get through. His freedom would be hard-earned.

Chapter 4

“The paint’s all dried up, Mama.” Brianna peered into the gallon can she’d just pried the lid off of.

Holly swallowed a groan of frustration. They’d raced home after school to change into work clothes before heading back to the Boone farm. The farmer had pointed toward his workshop in a shed attached to the barn. Then he’d muttered something about tending to the cow and disappeared in the opposite direction.

She and the girls had stopped to feed Noël some carrots before pushing open the door to the shed. The workshop was large and the tools and supplies were arranged with impressive neatness, but everything was covered with dust and cobwebs. Cans of paint lined up like soldiers on wooden shelves marked “Christmas Scene”.

“Well, at least we know what colors we need to get.” Holly used a stir stick to poke at the dried paint in the can she’d opened. It was as solid as a rock. She put her hands on her hips and blew out a breath as she looked around for brushes. This was going to be a bigger job than she’d thought, even with Robbie’s promised help.

She jumped and spun around as the door to the shed banged open. A red-headed woman dressed in paint-spattered jeans walked in, her green eyes scanning the room. “Great light! I can work in here,” she said.

“Julia?” Surprise kicked at Holly. “How did—? Never mind. Claire told you.”

Julia nodded. “She thought you might need some help with the painting.”

Holly swallowed hard. Only her sister Claire would send a world-famous artist to repair a simple nativity scene.

“The paint’s dried up.” Brianna held out the can to Julia.

“No problem,” Julia said. “Hardy’s Hardware is going to donate any supplies we need. Why don’t you help me make a list of the colors, girls?”

Holly had just unearthed a pad of paper and pen from her tote bag when two men walked through the shed door. One went straight to Julia, wrapped his arms around her, and dipped her low for a long, dramatic kiss.

“Paul, there are children in the room,” the larger man said before sauntering over to give Holly a bear hug and a peck on the cheek. “How’s my favorite sister-in-law?”

She greeted her sister’s giant husband Tim Arbuckle with deep affection. Tim had once faced down Holly’s ex-husband Frank on a night he had spun out of control. “Overwhelmed by the size of this job until you arrived with reinforcements.”

“Claire is meeting with some wealthy clients at the gallery, but she’ll come as soon as she’s convinced them to buy half a dozen of Julia’s paintings,” Tim said, releasing her.

Holly stepped back, only to be pulled into a hug by Paul Taggart, a local lawyer and former mayor of Sanctuary who ran a national organization for
pro bono
legal work. “What skills does a lawyer bring to fixing a nativity scene?” she teased.

Paul’s smile flashed white against olive skin. “I’ll sue the drunk driver to recover funds to pay for repairs.”

Tim snorted. “So we’ll have the money to do the job in what, five or six years?”

“Tim, you leave Paul alone,” Holly said. “We all know he can work at high speed when it’s needed.” He’d pushed her divorce through so fast Frank didn’t know what hit him.

Paul looped his arm over Julia’s shoulders, and wove his long fingers into her mass of red curls. “Some things need to be done fast.” He looked down at Julia with a wicked smile. “And some need to be done very, very slowly.”

Julia flushed pink and smacked him lightly on the arm.

“Well, you’re sure taking your time about proposing,” Tim said.

Julia rolled her eyes as Paul chuckled. “When the time is right,” he said.

Holly heard a footstep outside the door. It was Robbie. She knew it by the electricity she felt in the air.

When he strode in, the light seemed to grow brighter and clearer, yet she could see nothing but him. He’d changed out of his uniform into worn jeans that hugged the muscles in his thighs. An olive jacket with zippered pockets hung open over a deep blue flannel shirt that brought out the azure of his eyes. His gaze went straight to her and he smiled. Not his police smile, but the one that made her forget her vow to be strong and independent.

“You’re collecting helpers right and left,” he said, jerking his chin over his shoulder.

Holly forced herself to unlock her eyes from him and follow his gesture. Just outside the doorway stood three of Robbie’s fellow police officers, all in civvies, each carrying one of the damaged nativity figures. “Hey, Mrs. Snedegar, where would you like these?”

For a moment Holly was at a loss. They expected
her
to tell them what to do? Her gaze skittered around the workshop before she opened her mouth to ask Robbie what he thought. Then she looked at Brianna and Kayleigh who were taking in the scene from their perch on a wooden toolbox. Shoving away the temptation to let someone else make the decision, she pointed. “Randy, you can stack them against the work bench over there.”

The room disintegrated into a whirl of greetings and activity. Once Holly got over the shock of being in charge, she realized it was no different from working at the front desk of the school, handling four different people’s requests at the same time as she answered the phone and typed the principal’s memos.

Robbie, Paul, and two of the cops took on fixing the nativity stable out in the field. Tim headed up the indoor carpentry unit, repairing damage to the figures themselves. Julia and the girls drew up the list of painting supplies, called it in to the hardware store, and took delivery.

The crew kept growing as local people got off work and showed up to help. Word had gotten around, probably through Tim’s secretary Estelle Wilson, a former grade school teacher who had taught just about everyone in town. Holly was having a hard time finding enough space for everyone in the shed, so she went in search of Grady to ask permission to spread out into the barn.

He wasn’t anywhere in the barn, so she crunched across the gravel of the road toward the house, pulling her coat tightly around her against the snow-chilled darkness. A single dim light burned in a window toward the back of the house. She walked up a set of creaky wooden steps and rapped on the side door. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she shivered and stamped her feet. The bulb overhead glimmered on and the door swung open.

The dim light pooled on the lenses of Grady’s glasses as he said, “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “We’ve got more help than we expected, so I wondered if we could spread out into the barn. I don’t want to disturb the animals.”

“I reckon they’d welcome the company,” the old man said. “None of ’em’s skittish.”

Holly caught the blue flicker of a television screen in a room beyond the farmer. She thought he would welcome some company too. “I was hoping you might help us out with some questions about the, um, clothing on the three kings. They’re pretty badly crushed and it’s hard to tell what their robes looked like.”

“You make ’em look however you want,” Grady said.

“Well, okay.” Holly tried to think of some way to lure the man away from his lonely television viewing. “But we want to honor Bess’s artistic vision of the scene.” She’d heard Julia say something like that about some other artist’s work.

“That’s kind-thinking of you, but Bess just copied them out of a how-to magazine.” The farmer started to turn away.

“My daughters would like you to see what they’ve done,” Holly said, searching for the right leverage to pry him out of his too-quiet house.

He sighed. “I’ll take a look then.” He reached for the plaid jacket hanging on a hook beside the door.

She practically skipped along beside him because she was so pleased with herself for levering him out of his house. She could smell the loneliness on him. It wasn’t right for anyone to be so isolated at Christmastime.

“I think you’ll like how they’ve painted the hay around Baby Jesus,” she said. “Julia showed them how to add some texture to the paint.”

“She’s that famous horse painter, ain’t she?” Grady asked, plodding at her side. “Does the scary black stallions.”

“That’s right. She’s here working on your nativity scene.”

“Well, that’s really something.” Grady’s voice picked up a bit with surprise.

They walked inside where light and noise spilled out of the shed’s doorway into the quiet dark barn interior like one of Julia’s slashing brushstrokes. Grady stopped. Holly tucked her hand around his elbow, the thick wool of his jacket rough against her palm, and tugged him gently forward beside her.

“Hi, Mr. Boone.” Kayleigh raced up as they walked through the door. “Did you come to say thank you to everyone who’s helping fix your nativity scene?”

Holly still had her hand on the farmer’s arm, and she felt him stiffen, so she redirected the conversation. “No, I brought Mr. Boone to see how you painted the straw around Baby Jesus.”

Kayleigh nodded and led the way to the newly painted manger. “Ms. Castillo showed us how to make the paint thicker in some places than others so it almost looks like real straw.” She glanced up at the farmer. “I hope it’s okay. We didn’t change any of the colors. Ms. Castillo said we shouldn’t.”

Holly had released her hold on Grady’s elbow, but she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. “It looks fine,” he said.

A look of relief crossed the old farmer’s face as Robbie walked up, pulling off his work gloves and unzipping his jacket. “So did Holly get us permission to move out into the barn?” he asked. “It’s getting a mite cold and dark outside and, as you can see, we’ve got a lot of helpers in here. Your nativity scene is considered a town treasure.”

“I guess so.” Grady swiveled his head to take in the crowd of volunteers crammed into the shed. As his glance touched on people’s faces, they gave him a smile or a nod and a wave before going back to their tasks. “Well, I better get back to my knit—er, TV show. Use as much of the barn as you need.”

Before Holly could stop him, Grady bolted for the door.

Holly sighed as she watched him disappear into the gloom of the barn. “He seemed so lonely, and I thought he’d be pleased to see how much everyone cares about his nativity scene.”

Robbie touched the back of her hand. The heat of his fingertips seemed to soak all the way into her bones. “He
was
pleased. I could see it when he looked around. He just didn’t know what to do with the feeling.”

“Paul and I are going to bring the stable frame inside to work on now that it’s dark.” Robbie lowered his voice so only she could hear it. “You’ve done a fine thing here, Holly.”

A feeling she couldn’t quite name bloomed inside her. It was warm and bright, and it made her feel like she could take on the world.

Brianna approached them. “Mama? Can you help me get the lid off the purple paint can?”

Robbie stepped back with a nod.

As Holly followed her daughter to the workbench, she glanced back over her shoulder to find Robbie standing stock still in the midst of the activity, his blue gaze locked on her. She had that familiar sensation of everything fading away so that it was only the two of them.  But this time she didn’t feel a gentle warmth or a light flirtatious attraction. Now intense heat blasted through her, spiraling and coiling deep inside her belly until she nearly panted with the yearning to touch and be touched.

She whipped her head forward again.

She still wasn’t strong enough to let another man have that kind of power over her.