Lakeshore Christmas (19 page)

“That’s your opinion. People bring their own meaning to a song. ‘You look like an angel to me’ is not inherently romantic.”

Then why did the sound of him singing the words set her heart on fire?

“It’s something a parent might say to a child,” he explained. “Or a friend to a friend. It depends on the context you bring to it.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good fit for the program.”

“Nothing I write is ever going to make you happy,” he said. “Maybe the key with you is that you don’t want to be happy.”

“Now you’re being absurd,” she said. “Of course I want to be happy. That’s what everyone wants.” She frowned, offended by what she thought he was saying about her.

“Fine, prove it,” he said.

“What do you mean, prove it?”

“Prove to me that you want to be happy instead of stuck in the past somewhere, mired in something that happened a long time ago.”

She studied his face. Good grief, did he know? Or was he guessing? “And just how do you propose I prove this to you, assuming I decide I should?”

He did it again—gave her that special smile. The one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and mocked her reserve. “Go out with me. Let me show you a good time. Loosen up a little, for Chrissake.”

“I’m loose,” she protested. “I know how to have a good time.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Excellent,” he said. “Then this is going to be easier than I thought. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“I’m busy.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“Afternoon, then,” he said, picking up his guitar. “Tomorrow after rehearsal? Yeah, that’ll work. And if you argue with me, I’ll invite the camera crew along.”

D
amn, thought Eddie as the kids filed out of the church after Saturday morning practice, that sucked.

“Was the practice really that bad?” asked Jabez, pausing at the door.

Eddie frowned. He didn’t remember speaking aloud. “Pretty bad,” he said. “We’ve got our work cut out for us. The program’s in rough shape.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You rocked it out, though,” Eddie told the boy. Jabez’s singing was a bright spot in the program. His technique was effortless and straightforward, completely engaging. “Have you had formal training? Outside of school, I mean.”

There was a very slight pause. Then Jabez said, “A little. It was a long time ago. Something the matter?” The kid had a way of seeing into his head.

“Nothing that won’t get better once it’s over,” Eddie said with a grin. “I asked a girl out and now I don’t want to let her down.”

Jabez grinned back. “You need dating advice, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend?”

He gave a little laugh. “Nah.”

That was curious to Eddie. The kid had the shaggy-haired good looks teenage girls couldn’t resist. Eddie had seen several of them making eyes at Jabez during rehearsals.

“One thing, though,” Jabez said, “just figure out something new, something that’ll make her happy, and do that. Simple.”

“Right,” Eddie agreed. “Simple. I’ll figure out what she likes.”

“Okay, then. See you around.” Jabez zipped up his jacket and headed outside.

Eddie watched him go. Unlike some of the teenagers, Jabez didn’t drive a car. He appeared to get around on foot exclusively. No one knew much about him, and Jabez didn’t offer anything. Yet whenever he was around, he seemed intensely present, focused and interested in what was going on, particularly with people around him. He joined Cecil Byrne outside the church, a kid who couldn’t be more different from him. Cecil was, it had to be said, a geek.

Despite Jabez’s dating advice, Eddie felt no closer to a plan with Maureen. He’d asked her out on impulse. Now he had to figure out what to do. How to show her a good time. No, it was more than that. He had to make her happy.

The burden of someone else’s happiness was not exactly his favorite thing to drag around.

It occurred to him that he didn’t really know what would make her happy.
Something new.
Eddie stepped aside as a speeding little kid whooshed past him. In the blur of speed, he recognized one of Maureen’s nephews, who played Shepherd #4 in the pageant. The kid’s mother
was in pursuit. Maybe Maureen’s sister would clue him in about Maureen’s likes and dislikes.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked her before she disappeared. “Eddie Haven,” he added, extending his hand.

“Renée Quinn,” she said. “And I know who you are. Good grief, who doesn’t?”

She had a nice smile. A pretty face. She was like a more relaxed, slightly disheveled version of Maureen.

“Does that mean my reputation precedes me?” he asked, herding her to the side in the church vestibule. Parents and kids swarmed the area, keyed up after a fairly routine rehearsal, and eager to head out to enjoy the day.

“Ha. As if you didn’t know.” She had Maureen’s no-nonsense manner, too. “You’re even cuter in person. Maureen’s had a crush on you since she was a kid.”

“Yeah?” He let a slow smile unfurl.

“Don’t get cocky,” Renée warned him. “I’m just saying.”

“If I was feeling cocky, I wouldn’t be asking for your advice,” he pointed out.

“My advice about what?”

“I asked her out. Like, on a date.”

Renée’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

“Take it easy. I like Moe a lot—”

“Moe? Did you just call my sister
Moe?
”

Uh-oh. Now he’d put his foot in it.

Renée’s suspicion softened. “That’s so sweet. She’s always secretly wanted a nickname.”

He could see her across the room, swarmed by little kids. “Glad you approve.”

“I approve of the nickname. The going-out—not so much.”

“No offense, but it’s not up to you,” he pointed out.

“True. I’m protective of Maureen. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“I like her,” Eddie repeated. “Why would I hurt her?”

“I’m not saying you’d do it on purpose, but…my sister’s not made of stone. She’d probably never tell you this, but she went through…a bad time. I think everyone in the family’s been overprotective of her ever since.”

He recalled something Maureen had said to him. She’d hinted at an old wound, but had completely shut him down—
It’s private.
Now, though, he had the sister in his corner. “What do you mean, a bad time?” he asked her.

“Mo-om!” Renée’s boy came tearing back into the vestibule. “Wendy just traded a box of Lucky Charms for a gerbil, and she’s carrying it around in her pocket.”

Renée blanched. “I have to go,” she said, and rushed out the door after her son.

So, thought Eddie, weaving his way toward Maureen, his instincts had been right. The lady had a past. It only made her more interesting to him. “I met your sister,” he said. “I told her we were going out.”

Three of the angel-choir girls, who had been milling around nearby, snapped to attention. “You’re going out with Miss Davenport?” asked Emily McDaniel.

“Sure am,” Eddie said, “if it’s okay with you.”

The girls scurried away, whispering and giggling.

“I never said I’d go out with you,” said Maureen, looking flustered. Her cheeks were pink, and wisps of hair escaped her hair clip.

“You have no choice. I just told our biggest busybody.” Indeed, Emily was working her way through the angel choir like a hummingbird, spreading the news. “So we’re
still on for our date,” he said, giving Maureen no chance to demur. “Wear something warm.”

“Snowshoeing?” Filled with apprehension, Maureen regarded the footgear Eddie offered her after he’d parked at the trailhead.

“Yup,” he said easily. “I take it you’ve never gone snowshoeing before.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“I don’t mind being your first time, Maureen.” He offered what she’d come to think of as his trademark Eddie smile, a crooked grin loaded with charm. “Here, I’ll help you get them on.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d rather wade through thigh-deep snow.”

Expelling a martyrlike sigh, she stuck out her foot. He grasped her ankle, and in that instant, the insanity that was her attraction to this man surged through her like a wave. This was not good. She had no business being with him, out here in the wilderness. The best thing to do would be to play along with him, tromp through the snowy woods for a while and then get home to her warm living room and her cats and the oh-so-politically-incorrect sexy novel she was reading. Protesting would only prolong the wilderness ordeal.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading the way.

Maureen’s feet immediately tangled in the unwieldy snowshoes. She pitched forward, doing a faceplant in the soft, newfallen snow.

“Whoa, there.” Eddie was at her side immediately, helping her up and brushing off the snow. “The shoes take some getting used to.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” she said, licking at the snow that trickled down her face.

“Easy now. One step at a time. You’ll get into the rhythm of it.”

She tried again, taking it slowly and keeping a wide stance as she lumbered along behind him. Her gait was probably unattractive in the extreme, but at least she stayed upright. Eddie moved with light-footed grace, though she could tell he was keeping the pace slow for her sake.

“What gave you the idea to go snowshoeing?” she asked.

“I wanted to do something new. Something that would make you happy. You don’t look too happy.”

“Give me time.” She couldn’t help smiling.

“My friend Noah Shepherd—he taught me a lot of this outdoor stuff. He’s an iron-man athlete. Does that triathlon every year, with the dogsled, speed skating and snowshoeing. I like the great outdoors. Always have, ever since going to summer camp as a kid.”

“Wasn’t your commune like being at camp year-round?” she asked.

He laughed. “Pretty much. But in the summer, my folks went to a bunch of Renaissance festivals, and it was easier to send me to camp. My grandparents performed at Camp Kioga in the fifties, so they knew the Bellamy family.”

“So the Havens are a true show business family,” she said. “I’m picturing the von Trapps in
The Sound of Music,
” she said. “Or something more modern—the Partridge Family?”

He groaned. “I’m thinking the Osbournes.”

She couldn’t tell whether or not he was kidding. “So the camp—that’s your connection to Avalon?” she asked.

“That’s part of it.” He paused at a curve in the trail, took out a small flask and offered it to her.

“No, thank you,” she said. “I’m clumsy enough on these snowshoes without drinking.”

“It’s water,” he said with a laugh.

“Oh. In that case, thanks.” She took a long drink, grateful for the pause. Walking on snowshoes was hard work. She handed the flask back to him. He drank from it without wiping off the spout, which she found insanely sexy. Of course, she found everything about him insanely sexy, so that was no surprise.

“Just so you know, I don’t drink alcohol,” he said as he put the flask away. “Anymore.”

“Why not?”

He smiled. “I’m an alcoholic, Moe.”

Yikes. She wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m…sorry?”

The smile burgeoned into laughter. “The crisis is over. I’ve been sober for ten years. I took my last drink the night of my wreck at the church. I still feel bad about that, but not about getting into the program, with a golden ticket from Judge Wilhelm.”

“I see.” They started walking again, heading for the summit of Watch Hill, where the trail ended. Maureen was surprised by what he’d just told her, yet at the same time, she liked his honesty. He seemed more human and approachable, somehow. “What do you remember about that night?” she asked. “The night of the accident. That is, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You, um, said you broke up with a girl…” she prompted.

“Yep. I planned on getting engaged on Christmas Eve. Instead, she turned me down.”

“That’s horrible.”

“No shit. It was for the best, I know that now. We were too young, and my head definitely wasn’t in the same
place as my heart, although at the time, getting dumped was the end of the world. I dropped her at the station to catch the last train to Albany, where her family lived. I planned to head back down to the city. I was driving toward the turnpike. And then there’s a big gap in my recollection, until I was being loaded into an ambulance.”

So he didn’t remember the vehicle bursting into flames, the cries of the onlookers, the wash of emergency lights through the snowy night. He didn’t remember being found in a snow bank by Maureen herself. She hovered on the verge of telling him, but held back.

“I didn’t realize it at the time,” he said, “but that was the bottom I needed to hit in order to get my life on track. I’m grateful as hell I didn’t hurt anybody in the wreck.”

Though it made no sense at all, Maureen felt an affinity with Eddie after hearing his side of the story. Like her, he’d had his heart broken. And like her, he’d changed the direction of his future because of it. Their lives had intersected briefly that night and now, years later, they were at another intersection.

Maureen thought about this as they followed the trail through the woods. She was not usually one to rush out to embrace the lavish beauty of nature, but here in the pristine wilderness, it was hard to ignore. The quality of light was dazzling, the colors starkly delineated. The eye-smarting blue of the sky outlined the clean contours of the snow and the sharply towering bare maples. Ever-greens—noble firs and tall pines—sparkled with natural icicles dripping from the tips of their branches. The occasional fisher or snowshoe hare darted through the forest, leaving a dimpled trail.

At the summit, she shaded her eyes to survey the scenery. Eddie donned a pair of Bono-style shades. “Nice view,” he remarked.

“I’d say so.” It was, if such a thing could be, almost
too
nice—so beautiful, she felt a thick ache of nostalgia in her throat. The snow lay upon the mountains like a bridal gown, overlaid by the intricate lace of the bare trees. Far in the distance, Willow Lake was a vast, blank field, the town of Avalon hugging the shore. Maureen felt caught up in the magnificence of the day. “It’s incredible,” she said softly. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

Moving close, he slipped his arm around her. With his free hand, he took off the sunglasses. “Thanks for coming along, and for being a good sport about it.”

Maureen didn’t dare move. She even refused to breathe. She was consumed by the urge to turn to him, to lift herself up on tiptoe, grab his parka by the lapels and kiss him long and hard, in broad daylight. It was the scenery, she told herself. It was making her insane, all this beauty impairing her judgment.

But ultimately, reason intervened. This was Eddie Haven, of all people. Sure, he was flirting madly with her and had been for days, but that was all it could be—an elaborate flirtation. And Maureen knew better than to sacrifice her hard-won balance and emotional stability for a mere flirtation.

“Hey, Moe,” he said, a suggestion plain in his voice. His arm tightened around her.

Oh, no. This was it. If she didn’t do something, he was going to kiss her in broad daylight. “Look,” she said, “I don’t want to go all Sabine on you, but we should probably head back down.”

“What’s your hurry?” asked Eddie. “Never mind. What I’m really wondering is what hurt you so bad that you can’t conceive of letting someone get close to you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said,
terrified of the tears that had inexplicably gathered in her eyes.

“Right,” he said, putting the sunglasses back on. He seemed agreeable enough, but she sensed a sharpness about him that hadn’t been there before. Good grief, had she hurt his feelings? Impossible.

“Going down is going to be a lot easier than climbing up was,” she declared, forcing a chipper note into her tone as she returned to the wilderness trail.