A Hickory Ridge Christmas (11 page)

“Then I'm glad you didn't pick a restaurant in
Novi or Northville. I don't know if I would have been up for that hike.”

“But you can handle the three blocks to your house, right?”

Hannah let her shoulders slump and tried to look exhausted. “Barely. But I'll make it.”

She glanced out the window again. Huge, perfect snowflakes continued to twirl as if to a symphony of silence. The sky appeared clear and bright with the sliver of a moon towering above it all. Hannah was tempted to let herself believe that God had staged the whole setting just for the two of them, their own private glimpse of His amazing firmament.

It wasn't like her to give in to such romantic notions, but just this once, just in the expanse of time it took to reach her house, she wished for the freedom to be that young girl who still believed in happily ever after.

 

The wind picked up the minute they stepped outside, so Todd worried he might have made a tactical—and chilling—mistake. He tucked the scarf Hannah had given him more tightly around his neck and tugged his hat lower on his ears. Beside him, Hannah pulled the hood of her long dress coat up over her hair.

But the wind gust was only a long sigh before stillness resumed. He'd wanted a few more precious minutes with Hannah, and the car ride home would have been too short. He still had so much to say.

“I'm sorry this was our first date.”

Hannah turned toward him, her face peering out from the hood's edge of faux fur. “What do you mean?”

“I should have taken you on dates when we were younger. You deserved to be treated to nice dinners, movies and shopping trips. You deserved to be cherished.” She had always deserved someone better than him, but he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud.

“We never needed anything like that. Everything between us was so simple. We were…just us.”

“That's because I never had the guts to ask you on a real date. You had to settle for just watching TV or playing foosball in the basement.”

“We had a great time.”

“You deserved more.”

They walked side by side in silence for a few seconds before Hannah started chuckling. “Even if you had asked me out, I'm not sure I would have been able to go. Dad and I never got around to the discussion of when I would be allowed to date. He always thought of me as his little girl.”

The image of Rebecca immediately appeared in his mind. He could relate to Reverend Bob's feelings on that subject. He didn't even want to think about someday having to let some good-for-nothing teenage boy take his little girl out to the movies. That had to be the hardest thing for any father—to realize he was no longer the only love of his daughter's life.

Hannah continued as though unaware of how many years forward Todd's thoughts had traveled.

“When I wouldn't give the name of my baby's father, I thought I was keeping this huge secret,” she said with a chuckle. “It wasn't as if I had tons of opportunities to sneak out with boys. Not everyone
would have known immediately, but for those close to me, their list of possible candidates was short.”

“I'm probably the only one who thought it could have been someone else.”

Hannah lifted a shoulder and let it drop, but she didn't say anything.

“I'm sorry I jumped to the conclusion that anyone else could have been Rebecca's father. All I had to do was look at her to know the truth. And I should have known you wouldn't—” Todd cleared his throat. This subject matter was nothing if not delicate. “That was just my stupid jealousy talking.”

“There never could have been anyone but—”

Though Hannah stopped herself, Todd realized what she'd almost said:
you.
She'd already told him she hadn't dated in all these years, but was she really saying there was no one else for her? Just as he'd always known that Hannah was the only woman for him?

Before he could stop himself, Todd reached over and closed his gloved hand protectively over Hannah's. He felt that same wave of wonder, of rightness that he'd experienced when he'd touched her hand in the restaurant. The sense was so powerful that he wondered if she could feel it, too.

But insecurities immediately invaded his peace. Would she pull away as she had earlier? Maybe she'd only been talking about her intention to avoid sexual temptation until she was married, and she hadn't been indicating anything about her feelings for him.

He waited, his heart pounding, his palm damp under
the glove. He didn't even realize that they'd stopped walking until Hannah looked up at him and then down at their joined hands. Instead of pulling away, she shifted her hand until their gloved fingers laced.

Neither said a word. Neither had to. With her simple movement, like a tacit agreement made with touch, everything changed. They had so many possibilities, when not long ago there had been so few.

With the wider-spaced streetlamps to guide them and the occasional passing vehicle and the crunch of snow beneath their feet as the only sounds, they continued up Commerce Road, turning left on Union Street to reach Hannah's apartment.

The wind picked up again, but Todd barely felt the chill. Hannah was this warm presence beside him, her hand fitting comfortably in his. The delicate, floral scent of her hair drifted into his nostrils, and he wanted nothing but to inhale the sweetness.

At her front steps, they paused, their hands unlacing and falling back to their sides. The temptation to draw Hannah into his arms was so overwhelming that Todd shoved his hands into his pockets to prevent it.

Hannah turned toward him, her face peeking out from the furry hood, but she stared at the ground and chewed her lip. He could just imagine what she had to be thinking. Did she dread the moment he would kiss her, or did she worry he wouldn't want to? The irony tempted him to smile. He couldn't imagine a time when he would be near Hannah and not want to kiss her, to hold her, to claim her as his own.

But now wasn't the time for any of those things.
This moment was too important. He had too much to show her.

Finally, Hannah glanced up at him. “Thank you for dinner. I had a really nice time.”

“Me, too.”

“Well, I had better…” She let her words trail off, her gaze darting to her front door.

Todd jutted out his right hand and waited.

Hannah drew her eyebrows together and tilted her head to the side.

He only smiled, lowering his hand. “In case you're worried, I don't plan to kiss you tonight.”

“I wasn't worried,” she said, though everything about her tight demeanor suggested she was—either pro or con.

“Now don't get me wrong. I'm not opposed to the idea.”

An embarrassed grin settled on her lovely mouth. “I'm not sure I understand.”

“This is a first date. I wouldn't want to offend you by kissing you on our first date, so…” Again, he extended his hand, and she accepted it. The gesture felt surprisingly intimate because of the promise inherent in it. He would show her more respect this time. He would treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

Clearing her throat, Hannah stepped to the door and unlocked it. “Thanks again. I'm glad we did this.”

“Me, too.” He had descended the porch steps when he stopped and spoke over his shoulder. “You see, Hannah, everything will be different this time.”

D
ifferent.
Todd had warned Hannah to expect that, but he hadn't prepared her for just how wonderful spending time with him would be. He'd proven both of those things so many times in the past three days as she'd seen almost as much of him as when he'd lived next door. Who could blame her for enjoying every minute of it?

Even as Hannah's fingers clicked across the keys of her office computer late Friday morning, she could still picture Rebecca's smiling face and hear her laughter as they'd taken her skating for the first time on the tiny ice rink at Central Park.

She touched her left hand with her right, remembering how nice it had been to hold hands with Todd on the couch after they'd put their daughter to bed. She needed to concentrate on the figures on the screen in front of her, but it was too tempting to remember the funny things he'd said and the way he looked at her that warmed her all the way to her heart.

“What are you smiling about? I thought you said those year-end figures were a mess.”

Hannah jerked her head to see her boss, Harold Lasbury, standing in her office doorway looking at her with one of those strange expressions he reserved for anyone who wasted too much time laughing or smiling. Her cheeks burned.

“Oh, they were, but I'm finally whipping them into shape. I've already reconciled the bank statement and have posted the cash disbursements and cash receipts.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, that's good. You'll want to compute the annual depreciation of equipment after lunch.”

Hannah nodded, though she already knew well what was necessary to finish the client's year-end accounting. Sometimes Harold seemed to forget that she already had an accounting degree.

He started to leave but stopped and turned back to her. “Oh, you have a…guest in the waiting area.”

Guest? She'd never heard her boss refer to a client that way before, and she certainly hadn't scheduled any client appointments the last workday before the new year. That her boss raised an eyebrow before continuing to his own office only confused her more.

Tightening the hair clip at her nape and straightening her suit jacket, Hannah headed to the waiting area, preparing herself mentally to welcome an additional client on a day when she was too busy to even take a lunch hour.

But the sight that greeted her when she reached
the cramped room, with standard-issue waiting chairs and salmon-colored wallpaper, made her smile again. Todd sat in one of the cushioned seats, a picnic basket taking up most of the seat next to him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I told you I couldn't have lunch today.” She wondered if it was okay for her to be secretly pleased about a visit that would put her behind for the rest of the afternoon.

He indicated the basket next to him. “No, you said you couldn't
leave
for lunch today. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't go hungry.”

“Thanks.”

He stood and grabbed the basket handle. “Let's go in your office and eat so you can get back to work.”

“What do you have in there?”

“Only the best impromptu picnic fare that money can buy.” He followed her into her office and set the basket on her desk. “Sandwiches from Village Deli with cherry turnovers for dessert from Milford Baking Company.”

“Boy, you had to work to get this stuff. Crossing Main Street at the lunch hour is like taking your life in your own hands.”

“I do think some of the drivers believe those pedestrian crosswalks in the middle of the street are just suggestions.” Todd set three sandwiches and two cans of soda on the desk and then pulled out a white bakery bag.

“Are all three of those for me?”

“You always did have an appetite twice the size of that tiny frame of yours.” He paused, chuckling. “But I was hoping to eat at least one of the sandwiches.”

In the end, they each ate a turkey sandwich and tore the ham down the center. Together, they demolished the pastries until there were only flaky crumbs.

Hannah licked a drop of tart cherry filling off her thumb and wiped it with her napkin. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought. Thanks for doing this.”

“An early New Year's present. So how come you're working so hard when the rest of the world is kicking back for the holiday?”

“We have the year-end accounting to do for several of our corporate clients. That means year-end corporate tax returns and year-end payroll. We have to analyze and post the cash disbursements, which means figuring out which accounts they belong in. Then we have to go through the cash receipts, making sure they're all for sales. After that, we compute annual depreciation of equipment and do comparative analysis with figures from prior years.”

“So in other words you're just sitting around waiting to ring in the New Year.”

Hannah raised her hands in a mock surrender. “Oh no. You caught me.”

“Well, I don't want to keep you from your afternoon nap, so…” He was grinning as he cleared away the empty wrappers, shoving them back into the basket. “We sure can put the food away. We don't need to wonder where Rebecca got her healthy appetite from.”

“Or her strange sense of humor.”

“Or her beauty.”

“Are you complimenting yourself there?” she asked, though she felt warm inside.

“One of her parents, anyway.”

Instead of waiting for her to find some clever retort, Todd took his basket and headed toward the door. “I'll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

Todd had called three nights in a row, and she found she could get used to the regularity of it. She could get used to a lot of things about the last few days, but she didn't allow herself to dwell on them.

“Thanks again for doing this.”

“Anytime.”

With a wave, he was gone. Hannah couldn't help feeling the acuteness of his absence. It was as if all the laughter in the room had left with him.

Yes, they were different together this time but not in the way Todd must have meant with his promise. He'd always treated her as if she were someone precious to him. That hadn't changed with time or distance. But they were different people now. They'd made mistakes and had learned to live with their consequences. They'd wounded and been wounded. Yet somehow they'd found a way to continue on despite their scars.

Hannah stared at her computer screen, but she kept imagining Todd's image in the pattern of numbers—as the boy he'd once been and as the man he'd become.

She'd loved that boy; she could finally admit that to herself. Did she feel the same thing for him now that he'd emerged from the milieu of youth as this amazing, strong man? She shook her head, the incon
gruity so clear in her thoughts. If this scary, thrilling feeling was love, then it wasn't the same at all. It was stronger. Deeper. Emotional and spiritual in a way that only came with maturity.

She was so tempted to give in to the feeling, to let it soothe and heal. But she had to think this time. More than just two hearts were involved now. She had Rebecca to consider.

And even if she were certain that this was the best thing for all of them, would love be enough to make her forgive and forget, or would the seeds of distrust hidden just below the surface still linger? Would she ever be able to trust Todd fully with her heart?

The sounds of someone clearing his throat brought Hannah back from her dark thoughts. Harold stood in her office doorway with his arms crossed over his rounded chest. Hannah straightened in her seat. It was the second time her boss had caught her daydreaming in one day. She really was trying to begin the New Year in the unemployment line.

“Staring at the computer screen is not going to get those forms completed by five o'clock.”

Hannah shook her head to expel the last of the errant thoughts. “I'm sorry, Harold. I just need to get focused.”

“Too much picnic food?”

“No, it's not that.”

“Big New Year's plans distracting you?”

Well, there was a certain church service that was taking on an extra significance this year, but that wasn't her current distraction, so she shook her head.

“Then I trust you'll expend the extra effort to
ensure that our paying clients have their year-end reports completed correctly?”

“Yes, sir.”

Her ringing desk phone saved Hannah from any parting comment from her boss. “Harold Lasbury and Associates. How may I help you?”

“Is this Hannah Woods?”

She started. Callers didn't usually ask for her first but more often were transferred to her when she had been assigned their year-end reports or 1040s. “This is she.”

“This is David Littleton.”

“Oh. Deacon Littleton, what can I do for you? I can schedule your appointment for filing your personal tax return, but I don't have any available until mid-January.”

He cleared his throat. “Um…no…this is another matter.”

An unsettling feeling crowded Hannah's insides. Deacon Littleton was always direct, not one to mince words in order to protect feelings.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, probably not. I've probably just made one of those bookkeeping mistakes we volunteers do on occasion, and I was wondering if you might take a peek at the church books for me.”

“Well, today I am really swamped, but—”

“Oh, there's no real rush.” He paused as if considering. “In fact, don't worry about it. I'm sure I can find the mistakes.”

“You're sure? I don't mind looking over them at
all. I even have a day off Monday since New Year's is on Sunday.”

“No. That's all right. Enjoy your day off. If I can't find them, I'll be sure to ask for help.”

“You do that, okay?”

“You're the professional.”

Hannah ended the call, feeling relieved that she didn't have to add another task to her growing to-do list. But something about the call still didn't sit right with her. Why had the deacon asked for her help if he was only going to retract his request?

Another thing, Deacon Littleton had been keeping the church's books for as long as Hannah could remember, and the paperwork he kept was impeccable. He never made mistakes. What was different this year? And what had the deacon so worried?

Hannah shook away the uncomfortable thoughts and focused on the form on the screen. If she had the choice, she would just give up and call the day a wash. First, questions about Todd and now concerns about church.

The owners of Village Gifts and Milford Beauty Supply had the right to expect her total attention on their business accounting. Maybe her boss had the right idea. Harold loved crunching numbers to the exclusion of everything else. She needed to follow his example, at least during office hours. She would have to figure out her love life and the puzzle at church on her own time.

 

“Daddy, why are you and Mommy not married?”

Todd jerked, an unfortunate reflex given he was
sitting cross-legged on the floor, balancing a wiggly Rebecca, a messy-haired Miss Gabrielle and a copy of
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
in his lap. The child's backside, the doll and the book's hard cover hit the floor before Alice could even attend the Mad Hatter's Tea Party.

“Oh. Sorry, kiddo,” he said, pretending not to notice the other adults in the children's department at the nearly new Milford Public Library. They'd heard the question as clearly as he had and were trying not to get caught staring.

“Ouch, Daddy. That hurt.” Rebecca frowned at him, rubbing the offended part of her before climbing back into his lap. All trespasses forgiven, she situated Miss Gabrielle, which was discreetly covered in her dress that day, and collected poor
Alice,
returning it to her father's hands.

But instead of opening the book and continuing reading Lewis Carroll's classic story, Todd set it aside. How could he explain something so complicated to a four-year-old? He was tempted to distract her, to offer to find more books or to go eat ice cream, but Rebecca deserved better than that. She deserved a straight answer given at a level she would understand. It was his turn to answer their daughter's questions. Hannah had been answering them for a long time.

“How about we find a different place to sit so we're not on the floor?” They didn't need an audience for this conversation, either, but he didn't mention that.

Taking her hand, Todd led her into one of the tiny
glass conference rooms and shut the door behind them. Setting the book they'd been reading on the table, he sat in one of the chairs. Instead of sitting in the other, Rebecca scrambled up into his lap.

“Why did we go in the room?”

“You asked me a question, and I wanted to answer it.”

She seemed to consider and then nodded. “Okay.”

“I wish your mom and I had been married when we were younger.” He brushed his hand over her tiny blond pigtails. “Before we had you.”

“Why didn't you?”

“Because we made too many mistakes. And then I lived too far away. I didn't know you lived here.” He couldn't see any reason beyond payback to tell Rebecca he hadn't known she existed, so he kept that knowledge to himself.

“You don't live far away now.”

“No, I don't.” Todd couldn't help smiling. His little girl just might have a future in law given the way she could already argue her case.

Rebecca lay back in his lap until her head hung upside down over the side of the chair with her pigtails drooping toward the floor. “Daddy, are you and Mommy still mad at each other?”

The question surprised him, but it shouldn't have. Did he really think that Rebecca, who rarely missed anything, would have been oblivious to the tension that had been stretched tight between Hannah and him in the beginning and the gradual loosening of the rope?

“No, honey, I don't think we are.”