Forever Santa (10 page)

Trent turned to leave, then stopped. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve had a lucky break. You can’t make someone love you when they don’t. It’s better finding out now and not a few years into your marriage.” He wished his first wife had figured that out before she’d married him. It would have saved a lot of heartache and misery. But then he might not have met Gracie, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

“And don’t sell yourself short. There’s a lot of women you could love. It’s just a matter of finding the right one.”

Jordan didn’t seem impressed. “I’m going to concentrate on the ranch vacation business.”

“It’s probably a lot safer,” Trent said as he took the trash downstairs.

CHAPTER NINE

Gracie looked up from the sewing machine. Mrs. Davies left a hot mug of herbal tea beside her and she sniffed the lemony brew. “I thought making eight sets of bedroom curtains would be a breeze.”

“Making this many curtains always takes longer than you think,” Mrs. Davies said as she measured out another length of heading tape.

Gracie finished the seam she was stitching, then cut the thread and sat back. “Have you been inside the barn?”

Mrs. Davies shook her head. “I tried looking in the windows his morning, but the snow was too deep to get close enough.”

The doorbell chimed and Gracie looked at Mrs. Davies. “Were you expecting company?”

“Not me. It could be one of the contractors.”

“On a Sunday?” Gracie pushed her chair away from the table and walked toward the hallway.

“There’s only three days until Christmas,” Mrs. Davies said. “They might be working overtime to get one of the job’s done.”

Gracie opened the front door and smiled. “What are you guys doing here?” Tess and Emily stood on the porch.

“We’ve come to help,” Tess said. “A little birdy told us you were making curtains.”

Gracie opened the door wider. “Come inside. It’s freezing out here.”

“I’ll just get my sewing machine.” Emily walked back to her car and popped the trunk. “Go back inside. I can open the front door when I’ve got everything out of the car.” She slammed the trunk closed.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll give you a hand.”

Emily lifted the sewing machine into the house. “You’re not lifting anything that’s heavy.”

“And neither of you are going outside again,” Tess added as she lifted the keys out of Emily’s hand. “I can’t sew, but I can cook. I’ve got a box of casseroles in the back of the car. You can have them for dinner while Mrs. Davies is away.”

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“Yes, I did. You’ve been tired and it’s a busy time of the year. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Mrs. Davies said.

Emily took the cover off her sewing machine and plugged the power cord into the wall. “It’s not quite a baby shower, but we can have one of those later.”

Tess rang the doorbell and Mrs. Davies took her through to the kitchen.

Gracie turned to Emily. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you.”

“You don’t need to. That’s what friends are for. Now please tell me you’ve told everyone you’re having a baby?”

“Everyone in Trent’s family knows. And Mrs. Davies and you. There hasn’t been much time to tell anyone else.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Emily said. “Once word gets out the whole town will know within hours. Now show me what you’ve been doing.”

“Cup of tea first,” Tess said. She walked into the living room holding a tray of cookies and three steaming mugs in her hands. “Where’s your coffeepot?”

Gracie looked at Mrs. Davies and then Emily. “The smell made me feel sick. Trent took it across to the barn.”

Tess looked confused. “Why would he do that?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Tess’ jaw dropped. “You’re joking?”

Gracie shook her head.

Tess looked between Mrs. Davies and Emily. “You knew?” They nodded their heads and grinned.

“That’s wonderful.” Tess put the tray on the table and hugged Gracie. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Me too,” Gracie said. She wiped her eyes and stared at the smiling faces around her.

“Have you told Kristina and your dad?” Tess asked.

“They’ve got a lot on their mind with Alex. I thought I’d tell them when they all get home.”

“But that could be weeks away,” Tess said. “It might give them something to look forward to.”

“Or something more to worry about,” Gracie said. “They’re pretty stressed at the moment.”

“Have you told Jacob?” Emily asked.

“I called him this morning,” Gracie said. “He’s staying with us on Tuesday and Wednesday night for Christmas. I think he’s more scared than I am.”

Tess hugged her again. “You don’t need to be scared. You’ve got us to help.”

“But apart from Mrs. Davies, none of us know much about children. I don’t even know how to put a diaper on a baby.”

Mrs. Davies laughed. “It’s not hard once you know how.”

“And they have those parenting classes you can go to,” Emily added. “Once you know what you’re doing you can show us.” She looked around the room. Everyone was staring at her. “What? I’m just saying that the information might come in handy one day.”

“Or not,” Tess sighed.

“Who wants a cup of tea?” Mrs. Davies asked.

“Me,” Emily said. “I don’t care how it arrives as long as it’s hot. And Tess will have hers with no cream or sugar.”

Tess walked across to the tray. “Wow. I’m impressed that you remembered.”

“I was a waitress for a few years in college. I’ve got a photographic memory of what people drink.”

Tess picked up the tray of cookies and passed it to Emily. “You’re wasted in the fashion design business. If you ever need another job you can moonlight as a waitress in Angel Wings Cafe.”

“I’m going to be busy.” Emily took a cookie off the plate. “I’ve been thinking about creating a maternity line.”

Gracie sat on the sofa, sipping her lemon tea. “You have?”

“I was thinking about how difficult it was for you to find a winter jacket. That got me thinking about other women who can’t find what they want. I thought I’d design a basic pregnancy wardrobe with a couple of evening options. I’d keep the design the same, but customize each piece to fit the mom-to-be. With grow room included.”

“That’s a great idea,” Mrs. Davies said. “Gracie’s such a little thing. She’ll have trouble finding maternity clothes that fit her.”

“I have trouble finding clothes that fit me now,” Gracie said. “If you need someone to model your new designs, just let me know.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Emily smiled and waited until they all had a cup of tea in their hands. “I want to make a toast. To good friends, a wonderful pregnancy, and a merry Christmas. I love you guys.”

Mrs. Davies pulled a tissue out of her pocket. “You girls are going to make me cry. You remind me so much of a group of friends I had when I was your age.”

Tess hugged Mrs. Davies. “Tell us about your friends?”

Mrs. Davies put her cup of tea down and picked up a length of fabric. “I’ll tell you all about them once we’ve got this heading tape attached to each curtain.” She picked up the wide tape and handed it to Tess. “You pin it in place and Emily can stitch it onto the curtains.”

Tess looked uncertainly at the tape. “Are you sure I can do this? I wouldn’t want to mangle Gracie’s curtains.”

“You’ll do fine. Just take your time. I’m flying to my sister’s home first thing in the morning. It’d be good to get all of the curtains finished before then.”

“How many are left to do?” Emily asked.

Gracie put her cup of tea down. “Three complete sets plus the hem on the one I’m working on now.”

“Sounds to me like we arrived at the right time,” Emily said. And before anyone could say another word she set up her machine and started sewing.

***

Trent pulled open the side door on Nathan Gray’s barn. He’d known Nathan for years. They’d been friends at school, hung out at Charlie’s Bar and Grill when they’d been old enough, and worked through their share of heartaches together.

Nathan had begun woodworking first, creating furniture for his family and friends long before Trent knew how to use a lathe. When a barn fire nearly killed Nathan, his hobby became his sanctuary. When his nightmares kept him awake he’d disappear into the barn, working on his latest project until he was ready to drop from exhaustion.

On some of those nights Trent joined him, watching what he did, creating his own simple pieces of furniture.

“About time you showed up.” Nathan looked up from his workbench.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve got a small renovation project going on. What’s in the lathe?” Trent nodded toward the piece of wood Nathan was sanding.

“Steering column for a pedal go-kart for Catherine.”

“She’s two years old.”

Nathan shrugged his shoulders. “You’re never too young for a racing car.” He picked up a picture he’d torn out of a magazine and passed it to Trent. “I’m going for the red gloss finish with a black pinstripe along the steering column.”

The go-kart in the picture was all sleek lines and open space. “She’ll fall out.”

“Already thought of that,” Nathan said. “I’ve bought a racing seat with a five-point harness. Once she’s strapped in she won’t be able to move.”

“Amy was okay with you putting Catherine in a go-kart?”

“It’s a surprise.” Nathan smiled.

They both knew the surprise would have to come with a lot of convincing. Amy kept a close eye on Catherine and she wouldn’t be impressed with Nathan strapping her into a go-kart. Trent had no idea whether Catherine would reach the pedals, let alone move the thing.

He walked to the far side of the room and lifted a drop cloth off his work in progress. The wooden rocking chair should have been finished a week ago, but life had snuck up on the McKenzie household and left him short of time.

Nathan leaned against the bench and watched him lift the chair onto a frame they’d made for polishing. “Did that fancy polissoir arrive?”

Trent hung his jacket on a peg on the wall and pulled a parcel out of his pocket. “Arrived a couple of days ago from Virginia.” For the last few weeks, he’d been looking at the best way to polish the rocking chair. He’d found a website that mentioned Don Williams and the polissoir he sold. Made from tightly bound broomstraw, it worked beeswax into the wood, creating an impressive finish to any piece of furniture.

“Take a look.” Trent passed Nathan the polissoir and went looking for the paste wax.

“Top drawer on the right hand side of the workbench. Are you sure this will work?” The polissoir was as long as Nathan’s hand and didn’t look like it would do much of anything.

“Best invention since sliced bread. Watch and learn, buddy.” Trent rubbed the paste wax along the arm of the rocking chair, then held his hand out for the polissoir. Nathan watched him as he worked the wax into the wood, rubbing slightly off the grain line to get the wax deep into the wood.

After a few minutes, Trent walked across to their bag of rags and pulled out an old t-shirt. The soft cotton would work as well as anything else to buff the wood to a glossy sheen. “It’s not difficult, just takes time.”

He rubbed the t-shirt along the waxed arm, kept rubbing until the top layer of wax shone under the fluorescent lights. “What do you think?”

“I want one,” Nathan said.

“It’s just as well Santa anticipated your needs then, isn’t it?”

“Always knew he was a man worth believing in. Talking about Santa, Jordan told me you’ve got a Christmas present due next summer?”

“Have you ever heard any news from me and not my brother first?”

Nathan shook his head. “Not that I can recall. Although you did get married to Gracie before you told anyone, including the bride.”

“We’ve moved on since then,” Trent muttered.

“Yeah. Straight into being parents. How do you feel?”

“About being a parent or my brother’s big mouth?”

Nathan crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at Trent. “It wouldn’t matter how long you’ve been planning for a baby. When it happens it must knock your socks off knowing you’ve created another human being.”

“I feel better already,” Trent said dryly. He picked up the paste wax and rubbed it into the rocking chair. “I can’t believe we’re having a baby. Gracie’s tired all of the time. I’ve taken the coffeepot out to the barn.” When Nathan looked at him as if to say what does coffee have to do with pregnancy, he added, “The smell makes her want to throw up.”

He picked up the polissoir and started working the wax into the wood. “We’re both worried about what will happen, if the baby will be all right.”

“Why wouldn’t it be all right?”

Trent rubbed a bit harder. “I don’t know. There are thousands of things that can go wrong. We’re older than most parents. There’s a lot to think about.”