A Home for Christmas (10 page)

“Interesting.”

"It sure is. We ain’t never had nobody like Candi here in town. She’s a breath of fresh air if you ask me. If you ask Mrs. McKay across the way there at the bank, she’d just as soon run Candi out of town on a rail. I say, to each her own. There’s room enough for everybody in Angel Ridge. If you live long enough you learn it’s the differences in folks that make life interestin’.” She laughed and tapped her cane, “Some make it more interestin’ than others!”

Without warning, Miss Estelee veered off the sidewalk toward the Town Square. She walked right up to the angel monument and stared up at it with a slight smile on her face. The exquisite sculpture stood on a brick pedestal and extended at least eight feet toward the blue sky. The warrior angel immortalized in bronze stood passive, his sword hilt held in both hands, its tip down. He had the most strikingly beautiful face. The most peaceful countenance.

“Somethin', ain't he?” her companion breathed.

Still looking up, Janice agreed. “He certainly is.”

“He just sorta says it all, don't he?”

Janice puzzled. “About what?”

“The town.”

Janice looked back up at the angel, giving the statement some thought. He did. Peaceful. Dignified. Surviving the test of time.

“Yes,” Janice agreed. “I see what you mean.”

“Good. I'll be on my way now.” Miss Estelee moved away at a brisk clip. “Drop by on Monday to check my blood pressure with the doc.” Her voice trailed off as the distance between them grew.

“Nice to meet you,” Janice called after her.

The old lady waved as she strode back toward her house. Janice moved around the monument and turned her attention to the impressive blue spruce taking up much of the square. Glass balls of varying sizes added color, but its most impressive decoration was the large angel sitting at its apex. She was a beautiful blonde in a flowing gold gown.

“Stunning, isn't she?”

Janice turned, startled by the sound of Blake's voice. He leaned against the angel monument, his arms crossed, looking sexier than any man had a right to in that black leather jacket, form-fitting, faded jeans, and an off-white ribbed sweater. That lock of raven hair fell across his forehead begging to be brushed back into place.

“Fancy meetin' you here,” he said in a low, deep southern drawl that pushed her the rest of the way over the edge.

“Hi.”

“I wasn't sure after last night if—”

“I wasn't sure either.”

“But here you are.”

“Yes.”

He paused, staring at her with that intense gaze that seemed to miss nothing. “What does this mean?”

Janice shrugged. “It means I'm here . . . for now.”

Blake looked away, then back again. “Was that Miss Estelee givin' you the grand tour?”

“Yes. An interesting lady.”

Blake chuckled. “No doubt about that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and said, “I was just headed over to Ferguson's for lunch. Would you like to join me?”

“It was next on my list of places to see.”

He pushed away from the monument and offered her his arm. Janice took it and walked with him to the diner.

“Been by to see your uncle yet?”

“Yes. He wasn't in.”

“Ah, yeah. He's got a nice little cabin up on the mountain on the other side of the lake. It’s got a creek where he can be found trout fishin’ most Saturdays. Any season. Any type of weather.”

“I call that dedication.”

Blake laughed and held the door to the diner open so she could precede him. This must be where the entire population of Angel Ridge was keeping warm. The place was buzzing with conversation, until Blake followed her inside and stood next to her. A hush fell over the place, and Janice suddenly knew what it felt like to be on display as all eyes trained on her. The attractive young woman with the spiked red hair Janice remembered from last week emerged from behind the counter and elbowed her way toward them.

“Well, what's the matter with you people? Haven't you ever seen a person walk through a door before?”

Most returned to their conversations, but kept stealing glances in their direction.

“I was wonderin' if you'd make it in today, Blake.” She said the words to Blake, but gave Janice an assessing glance. She extended her hand. “I'm Dixie Ferguson. Blake's much better looking sister.”

“Janice Thornton.” She put her hand in Dixie's for a firm shake. Height must run in the family. She was an inch or two taller than Janice.

“A pleasure. Was that you I saw last week at Doc Prescott's?”

Janice caught the look that passed between Blake and his sister and wondered what that was about. “Yes. Doctor Prescott is my great-uncle.”

“Well, that mean's you're homefolk. Welcome to Angel Ridge. Let me get you a table.”

There wasn't an empty seat in the place, but they followed Dixie to a corner booth where two older gentlemen were engaged in an intense discussion over cups of strong looking coffee.

“All right, fellas. Take it outside. You've beat that dead horse too long and have drunk enough coffee to float it, to boot.” Dixie jabbed a thumb toward the entrance.

“But—”

“No
buts
, now. You've been takin' up this booth since breakfast. Why, I oughta start chargin' you rent.” She shooed them out of the booth. “Go home to your wives before they forget what you look like.”

“Oh, all right, Dix,” one man said.

“See ya on Monday.” The other rose with his friend.

“Blake. Ma'am.” They tipped their caps to her.

Janice smiled. She removed her coat with Blake's help, then sat as Dixie cleared the cups away and swiped the crumbs off the table with a towel. “The special today is beef stew with corn muffins. If that doesn't appeal, there are menus on the table. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hot tea,” Janice said.

“Coffee for me, Dix.”

“Comin' right up.”

When they were alone, Janice joked to cover her nervousness, “Nothing like making an entrance.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and focused on the green Formica tabletop. A small potted poinsettia sat near the artificially frosted window.

“It's a small town. Newcomers draw attention.”

“Guess I'll have to get used to that.”

Blake winked at her. “If you stick around long enough, they won't give you a second look.”

There it was. An unspoken question as to whether she was here for good or just for a visit. Might as well clear that up now. “I'm here through the holidays. Beyond that—”

Blake held up his hands. “Hey, you don't owe me any explanations. But I am happy to see you. I won't lie about that.”

If she were the type to confess all, she'd have to admit she was happy to see him too. Good thing she wasn't that type, because she wasn't ready to have that conversation. In fact, she was unsure coming here had been a wise decision.

Dixie returned with their drinks. Janice thanked her.

“What'll you have?” She pulled a pencil from behind her ear and an order pad from the Christmas tree that made a pocket on her holiday apron.

“The special sounds good to me,” Janice said.

“Can't go wrong with Dixie's stew,” Blake said.

Dixie propped a hand on her hip and glared at her brother. “Can't go wrong with anything I cook.”

“Of course that goes without saying,” Blake agreed. “I'll have the same.”

“Comin' right up. Two specials at table four,” she called out as she threaded her way through the crowded diner back to the counter.

Janice smiled. “I like your sister.”

“That's good, 'cause she owns the only eating establishment in town. You don't want to be on her bad side, if you know what I mean.”

“No danger in that happening. I like a woman who can keep her brother in line.”

Blake's smile was warm and easy. The effect was devastating to her senses. “All right, now. Don't go gangin' up on me.”

“There's power in numbers,” Janice teased, falling in with the easy banter.

Blake shook his head, a resigned look on his face. “I'm in big trouble.”

She looked out the window as a horse drawn carriage rolled by. “Tourists,” Blake explained. “We get tours from Knoxville midday on Saturdays. The Historical Society thought it would help raise money for their preservation projects.”

“How nice.” It made the town more picture-perfect in her eyes. A bad thing for a woman in her state of mind; one who was quickly falling under the influence of a Pierce Brosnan look-alike with a southern drawl.

“We'll have to finish your tour later.”

She stirred a packet of sugar into her tea. “I don't know. Miss Estelee was pretty thorough.”

He set his cup down. “You know, she's the town's oldest resident.”

She sipped her tea. Perfect. “I'm not surprised.”

“Where'd you two meet up?”

“I ran into her on my way into town, and she insisted that we walk together.”

He propped his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Did she tell you about the angels?”

“You mean the monument?”

“No. I mean
the
angels.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize the word.

“She said something about angels living here, but I didn't think much of it. People her age sometimes go on with nonsensical things.”

That earned another raised eyebrow. “I'd be surprised if that was all she said.”

“She also said they sort of guided matters around her.” She wasn't about to mention that these “angels” had also paired the two of them up.

Blake leaned back.

“Okay, I'll bite,” she said. “What else should Miss Estelee have told me about the angels?”

“Well see, there's a legend—”

A young waitress set their food in front of them. “Thank you,” they both said.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No thanks, Abby,” Blake said.

When they were alone again, Janice prompted, “You were saying?”

He crumbled his corn muffin in his stew and mixed it up. “There's a legend.” He took a bite and chewed.

She sighed. “Yes, I got that.”

“Sorry, I'm starvin'.” He took another bite, chewed, swallowed, then continued. “The old-timers here say that angels appeared to the first settlers and told them to name the town Angel Ridge. Some believe the angels stuck around. That they watch over the town and its residents. Miss Estelee has been known to tell anyone who will listen that they guide the course of things 'round here.”

Janice swallowed her first mouthful of the delicious stew and almost moaned out loud. It was wonderful. The best she'd ever tasted. It was almost good enough to distract her from their conversation. She wasn't about to tell Blake Miss Estelee had told her as much. She wanted to hear his take on these supposed angels. “What kinds of things?”

Blake shrugged. “According to Miss Estelee, they have a particular interest in folks' love lives.”

Janice nearly choked on her muffin.

“She'd probably also say they brought you back here after all these years. Nothing happens by chance in her book.
It's them angels a workin' their magic.
”

That was pretty much exactly what Miss Estelee had said. She took another sip of her tea. “What do you think?”

“I think it's an interesting notion. What do you think?”

“I've never been particularly religious.”

“Yeah, well, that's the curious thing. Neither is Miss Estelee. She used to attend church real regular, but any more, about the only time you ever see her in church is for Christmas Eve services.”

“She mentioned that she doesn't usually attend. She said something about feeling closest to God in the tall pines.”

Blake laughed. “Well, now, I've heard tell of people gettin',
um
,
close
up in the tall pines, but I doubt they were thinkin' about God while they were doin' it.”

He winked at her, and Janice felt heat creep up her neck. She tried to cover the juvenile feeling by wiping her mouth, then sipping her tea. Blake wasn't fooled.

He touched her hand. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you.”

“Oh, you didn't,” she lied.

He was gentleman enough to let it pass and to change the subject. “How's the stew?”

“Excellent.”

They continued to eat until Blake said, “You plannin' to join your uncle for Sunday services tomorrow? They turn lightin' the advent candles into a real spectacle.”

Janice couldn't remember the last time she'd gone to church. “I'll probably just take some time to settle in.”

That rakish grin that did wild things to her pulse pulled at the corner of his mouth. “If you'd rather, I could take you up to the tall pines . . . ”

The look in Blake's eyes defined smoky.

“Young man, I am certain you did not just embarrass yourself
and
my grandniece by making untoward advances on such short acquaintance.”

“Doc Prescott!”

Blake stood and banged his knee on the table in the process. He tried to straighten to his full, impressive height, but the effect was ruined because he felt compelled to rub the ache out of his injury. Twin flags of red colored his cheeks.

“Janice, I'm so sorry.” Her uncle took her hands and kissed her cheek. “I would have thought you safe from this type of ungentleman-like behavior in our town.” He swung his accusatory gaze back to her lunch companion. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Blake Ferguson.”

“It's all right, Uncle. We were just talking about church.”

“Indeed?” He continued to glare at Blake who looked like he wanted to sink into the black and white checkerboard linoleum tile.

“Yes. We were talking about church. Miss Estelee told me earlier that she feels closest to heaven in the tall pines. Blake was just offering to show me where it is in case I'd rather go there instead of church tomorrow.” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

“
Harrumph!
”

“That didn't come out at all like I meant it to.”

He continued to pin Blake to the spot with his glare.

“Won't you join us?” Janice invited. “The stew is wonderful.”

“Well,” he transferred his gaze to Janice, “I was coming over for a bite when I ran into Estelee. She told me she left you in town.”