Holiday Wishes (11 page)

Still, the solution had suited everyone. Kim would take the kids to her rehearsals, and he would save his sister a trip to school by picking them all up and driving them home.

Kim would have a driver’s license in a few more months. A fact she was reminding everyone about constantly. But he doubted he’d plunk his boys down in the car with his sixteen-year-old niece at the wheel, no matter how much he loved and trusted her.

You
coddle them.
Mac rolled his eyes as his sister’s voice played in his head.
You can’t always be mother and father to them, Mac. If you’re not interested in finding a wife, then you’ll have to learn to let go a little
.

Like hell, he would, Mac thought.

As he neared the auditorium, he heard the sound of young voices raised in song. Subtle harmony. A good, emotional sound that made him smile even before he recognized the tune. A Christmas hymn. It was odd to hear it now, with the sweat from his day just drying on his back.

He pulled open the auditorium doors, and was flooded with it. Charmed, he stood at the back and looked out on the singers. One of the students played the piano. A pretty little thing, Mac mused, who looked up now and then, gesturing, as if to urge her classmates to give more.

He wondered where the music teacher was, then spotted his boys sitting in the front row. He walked quietly down the aisle, raising a hand when he saw Kim’s eyes shift to his. He settled behind the boys and leaned forward.

“Pretty good show, huh?”

“Dad!” Zack nearly squealed, then remembered just in time to speak in a hissing whisper. “It’s Christmas.”

“Sure sounds like it. How’s Kim doing?”

“She’s real good.” Zeke now considered himself an expert on choral arrangements. “She’s going to have a solo.”

“No kidding?”

“She got red in the face when Miss Davis asked her to sing by herself, but she did okay.” Zeke was much more interested in Nell right then. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

A little amazed at this announcement—the twins were fond of Kim, but rarely complimentary—he nodded. “Yeah. The prettiest girl in school.”

“We could have her over for dinner sometime,” Zack said slyly. “Couldn’t we?”

Baffled now, Mac ruffled his son’s hair. “You know Kim can come over whenever she wants.”

“Not her.” In a gesture that mimicked his father, Zack rolled his eyes. “Jeez, Dad. Miss Davis.”

“Who’s Miss Davis?”

“The m—” Zeke’s announcement was cut off by his twin’s elbow.

“The teacher,” Zack finished with a snarling look at his brother. “The pretty one.” He pointed, and his father followed the direction to the piano.

“She’s the teacher?” Before Mac could reevaluate, the music flowed to a stop and Nell rose.

“That was great, really. A very solid first run-through.” She pushed her tousled hair back. “But we need a lot of work. I’d like to schedule the next rehearsal for Monday after school. Three forty-five.”

There was already a great deal of movement and mumbling, so Nell pitched her voice to carry the rest of her instructions over the noise. Satisfied, she turned to smile at the twins and found herself grinning at an older and much more disturbing version of the Taylor twins.

No doubt he was the father, Nell thought. The same thick dark hair curled down over the collar of a grimy T-shirt. The same lake-water eyes framed in long, dark lashes stared back at her. His face might lack the soft, slightly rounded appeal of his sons’, but the more rugged version was just as attractive. He was long, rangy, with the kind of arms that looked tough without being obviously muscled. He was tanned and more than a little dirty. She wondered if he had a dimple at the left corner of his mouth when he smiled.

“Mr. Taylor.” Rather than bother with the stairs, she hopped off the stage, as agile as any of her students. She held out a hand decorated with rings.

“Miss Davis.” He covered her hand with his callused one, remembering too late that it was far from clean. “I appreciate you letting the kids hang out while Kim rehearsed.”

“No problem. I work better with an audience.” Tilting her head, she looked down at the twins. “Well, guys, how’d we do?”

“It was really neat.” This from Zeke. “We like Christmas songs the best.”

“Me, too.”

Still flustered and flattered by the idea of having a solo, Kim joined them. “Hi, Uncle Mac. I guess you met Miss Davis.”

“Yeah.” There wasn’t much more to say. He still thought she looked too young to be a teacher. Not the teenager he’d taken her for, he realized. But that creamy, flawless skin and that tidy little frame were deceiving. And very attractive.

“Your niece is very talented.” In a natural movement, Nell wrapped an arm around Kim’s shoulders. “She has a wonderful voice and a quick understanding of what the music means. I’m delighted to have her.”

“We like her, too,” Mac said as Kim flushed.

Zack shifted from foot to foot. They weren’t supposed to be talking about dumb old Kim. “Maybe you could come visit us sometime, Miss Davis,” he piped up. “We live in the big brown house out on Mountain View Road.”

“That’d be nice.” But Nell noted that Zack’s father didn’t second the invitation, or look particularly pleased by it. “And you guys are welcome to be our audience anytime. You work on that solo, Kim.”

“I will, Miss Davis. Thanks.”

“Nice to have met you, Mr. Taylor.” As he mumbled a response, Nell hopped back onstage to gather her sheet music.

It was too bad, she thought, that the father lacked the outgoing charm and friendliness of his sons.

Chapter 2

It didn’t get much better than a drive in the country on a balmy fall afternoon. Nell remembered how she used to spend a free Saturday in New York. A little shopping—she supposed if she missed anything about Manhattan, it was the shopping—maybe a walk in the park. Never a jog. Nell didn’t believe in running if walking would get you to the same place.

And driving, well, that was even better. She hadn’t realized what a pleasure it was to not only own a car but be able to zip it along winding country roads with the windows open and the radio blaring.

The leaves were beginning to turn now as September hit its stride. Blushes of color competed with the green. On one particular road that she turned down out of impulse, the big trees arched over the asphalt, a spectacular canopy that let light flicker and flit through as the road followed the snaking trail of a rushing creek.

It wasn’t until she glanced up at a road sign that she realized she was on Mountain View.

The big brown house, she remembered Zack had said. There weren’t a lot of houses here, two miles outside of town, but she caught glimpses of some through the shading trees. Brown ones, white ones, blue ones—some close to the creek bed, others high atop narrow, pitted lanes that served as driveways.

A lovely place to live, she thought. And to raise children. However taciturn and stiff Mac Taylor might have been, he’d done a wonderful job with his sons.

She already knew he’d done the job alone. It hadn’t taken long for Nell to understand the rhythm of small towns. A comment here, a casual question there, and she’d had what amounted to a full biography of the Taylor men.

Mac had lived in Washington, DC, since his family moved out of town when he was a young teenager. Six years ago, twin infants in tow, he’d moved back. His older sister had gone to a local college, married a town boy and settled in Taylor’s Grove years before. It was she, the consensus was, who had urged him to come back and raise his children there when his wife took off.

Left the poor little infants high and dry, Mrs. Hollis had told Nell over the bread rack at the general store. Run off with barely a word, and hadn’t said a peep since. And young Macauley Taylor had been mother and father both to his twins ever since.

Maybe, Nell thought cynically, just maybe, if he’d actually talked to his wife now and again, she’d have stayed with him.

Not fair, she thought. There was no decent excuse she could think of for a mother deserting her infant children, then not contacting them for six years. Whatever kind of husband Mac Taylor had been, the children deserved better.

She thought of them now, those impish mirror images. She’d always been fond of children, and the Taylor twins were a double dose of enjoyment. She’d gotten quite a kick out of having them in the audience once or twice a week during rehearsals. Zeke had even shown her his very first spelling test—with its big silver star. If he hadn’t missed just one word, he’d told her, he’d have gotten a gold one.

Nor had she missed the shy looks Zack sent her, or the quick smiles before he flushed and lowered his eyes. It was very sweet to be responsible for his first case of puppy love.

She sighed with pleasure as the car burst out from under the canopy of trees and into the light. Here were the mountains that gave the road its name, streaking suddenly into the vivid blue sky. The road curved and snaked, but they were always there, dark, distant and dramatic.

The land rose on either side of the road, in rolling hills and rocky outcroppings. She slowed when she spotted a house on the crest of a hill. Brown. Probably cedar, she thought, with a stone foundation and what seemed like acres of sparkling glass. There was a deck stretched across the second story, and there were trees that shaded and sheltered. A tire swing hung from one.

She wondered if this was indeed the Taylor house. She hoped her new little friends lived in such a solid, well-planned home. Then she passed the mailbox planted at the side of the road just at the edge of the long lane.

M. Taylor and Sons.

It made her smile. Pleased, she punched the gas pedal and was baffled when the car bucked and stuttered.

“What’s the problem here?” she muttered, easing off on the pedal and punching it again. This time the car shuddered and stopped dead. “For heaven’s sake.” Only mildly annoyed, she started to turn the key to start it again, and glanced at the dash. The little gas pump beside the gauge was brightly lit.

“Stupid,” she said aloud, berating herself. “Stupid, stupid. Weren’t you supposed to get gas
before
you left town?” She sat back, sighed. She’d meant to, really. Just as she’d meant to stop and fill up the day before, right after class.

Now she was two miles out of town without even fumes to ride on. Blowing the hair out of her eyes, she looked out at the home of M. Taylor and Sons. A quarter-mile hike, she estimated. Which made it a lot better than two miles. And she had, more or less, been invited.

She grabbed her keys and started up the lane.

She was no more than half way when the boys spotted her. They came racing down the rocky, pitted lane at a speed that stopped her heart. Surefooted as young goats, they streaked toward her. Coming up behind was a huge yellow dog.

“Miss Davis! Hi, Miss Davis! Did you come to see us?”

“Sort of.” Laughing, she crouched down to give them both a hug and caught the faint scent of chocolate. Before she could comment, the dog decided he wanted in on the action. He was restrained enough to plant his huge paws on her thighs rather than her shoulders.

Zack held his breath, then let it out when she chuckled and bent down to rub Zark’s head and shoulders. “You’re a big one, aren’t you. A big beauty.”

Zark lapped her hand in perfect agreement. Nell caught a look exchanged quickly between the twins. One that seemed both smug and excited.

“You like dogs?” Zeke asked.

“Sure I do. Maybe I’ll get one now. I never had the heart to lock one up in a New York apartment.” She only laughed again when Zark sat and politely lifted a paw. “Too late for formalities now, buddy,” she told him, but shook it anyway. “I was out driving, and I ran out of gas right smack at the bottom of your lane. Isn’t that funny?”

Zack’s grin nearly split his face. She liked dogs. She’d stopped right at their house. It was more magic, he was sure of it. “Dad’ll fix it. He can fix anything.” Confident now that he had her on his own ground, Zack took her hand. Not to be outdone, Zeke clasped the other.

“Dad’s out back in the shop, building a ’rondak chair.”

“A rocking chair?” Nell suggested.

“Nuh-uh. A ’rondak chair. Come see.”

They hauled her around the house, passed a curving sunroom that caught the southern light. There was another deck in the back, with steps leading down to a flagstone patio. The shop in the backyard—the same cedar as the house—looked big enough to hold a family of four. Nell heard the thwack of a hammer on wood.

Bursting with excitement, Zeke raced through the shop door. “Dad! Dad! Guess what?”

“I guess you’ve taken another five years off my life.”

Nell heard Mac’s voice, deep and amused and tolerant, and found herself hesitating. “I hate to bother him when he’s busy,” she said to Zeke. “Maybe I can just call the station in town.”

“It’s okay, come on.” Zack dragged her a few more feet into the doorway.

“See?” Zeke said importantly. “She came!”

“Yeah, I see.” Caught off-balance by the unexpected visit, Mac set his hammer down on his workbench. He pushed up the brim of his cap and frowned without really meaning to. “Miss Davis.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Taylor,” she began, then saw the project he was working on. “An Adirondack chair,” she murmured, and grinned. “A ’rondak chair. It’s nice.”

“Will be.” Was he supposed to offer her coffee? he wondered. A tour of the house? What? She shouldn’t be pretty, he thought irrelevantly. There was nothing particularly striking about her. Well, maybe the eyes. They were so big and brown. But the rest really was ordinary. It must be the way it was put together, he decided, that made it extraordinary.

Not certain whether she was amused or uncomfortable at the way he was staring at her, Nell launched into her explanation. “I was out driving. Partly for the pleasure of it, and partly to try to familiarize myself with the area. I’ve only lived here a couple months.”

“Is that right?”

“Miss Davis is from New York City, Dad,” Zack reminded him. “Kim told you.”

“Yeah, she did.” He picked up his hammer again, set it down. “Nice day for a drive.”