Merry, Merry Ghost (13 page)

Murmurs rose and the crowd pressed forward.

Peg picked up Keith, held him high. “Wave, honey,” she whispered.

Keith’s face was solemn, but he lifted a hand and waved.

“We’ll be right down.” Peg swung Keith to the balcony floor.

Tucker pushed away from the railing. “Hey, buckaroo. How about a Tarzan swing?” He held out his arms for Keith, shouted to Leon, who stood by the steps to the scaffolding. “Want to catch him, Leon? Here he comes.” Tucker picked up Keith and swung him out over the balcony.

Gasps and cries rose.

Susan lifted a hand in protest. “Tucker, no.”

Leon hurried forward, his weathered face drawn in a frown. “Wait up, Tucker. I can’t reach him.”

“Uh-one. Uh-two.” Tucker swung Keith from side to side. In mid-swing, he let go. “Here he comes.”

Leon shifted a foot or so to one side as he held up his arms.

Keith’s laughter was a gurgle of delight.

Leon staggered a bit as he caught Keith.

“Tucker, that was dangerous.” Susan’s voice was sharp.

He looked around, grinned. “Keith’s having a blast.”

Leon looked up. “I’ve got him all right.”

Susan took a deep breath, but her eyes were still angry.

Tucker spread his hands in a charming plea for approval. “Hey, Susan, guys have to be guys. Now you wait and see if Keith doesn’t remember next Christmas and insist we do it again.”

“Next Christmas…” There was an odd note in Susan’s voice.

Keith looked up from below. He wriggled in Leon’s grasp. “Swing me again.”

Tucker laughed out loud. “Keith’s got the right idea. How about it, Susan?”

“Once is enough.” She came to the railing. “Hold tight to Leon, Keith. He’s taking you up to the top of the tree.”

Leon wrapped an arm around Keith. At a card table at the base of the scaffolding, Leon picked up a huge white star. “Here we go.” He mounted two steps at a time, carrying Keith to the top platform. Leon steadied Keith on the metal railing and, bending forward, reaching out to the tip-top of the pine, Leon’s big hand over Keith’s small one, they put the star in place.

Another cheer rose.

Susan watched Keith, her face shining with delight.

I looked at those around Susan.

Jake’s lips compressed into a tight hard line. Peg took a step toward her mother, stopped. A frown marred Dave Lewis’s handsome features. Gina hunched her shoulders and jammed her hands into the pockets of her coat. Harrison looked worried. His wife put a hand on his sleeve. Tucker gave a dismissive shrug and turned toward the hall door.

Susan lifted her hands in a gesture of hospitality. “It’s time for cookies and cocoa.”

In an instant, Susan would turn. Though she was caught up in the moment, thrilled with Keith and with the tree, she would surely see the closed faces of those who surrounded her, closed against Keith, closed against her.

My voice rose clear and distinct. Soon voices joined me, one after another, until everyone sang the light and lilting “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.”

Susan moved back to the railing, eyes shining. She turned toward those behind her and gestured like a conductor. One by one they joined in.

I nodded in satisfaction. It is difficult to frown and sing at the same time.

As the song ended, Susan beamed. “We’re coming down and we’ll sing more songs.” She turned and walked to the balcony door and those around her followed.

By the time they came out onto the porch, Susan had to stop and grip a pillar. Peg took her arm and after a moment they came down the front steps.

I launched into “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town.”

Voices rose enthusiastically around me.

Despite the upbeat music, I felt a chill as I recalled the stony faces on the balcony before I started to sing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
ucker poked at the fire. Flames danced and crackled, flickering blue and red. The living room drapes were drawn against the winter night. The room was cozy and warm, yet there was no aura of holiday cheer.

Susan sat in a wingback chair near the fire. She looked frail and worn, her face paper white. She nodded toward Jake. “If you’ll pour the coffee…”

Jake bustled to the sideboard. “Of course, Susan. Will you have coffee or sherry tonight?”

“Sherry, please.” Susan smiled.

Gina rose to help her aunt. Spoons tinkled against cups. Plates with slices of peach pie were offered. It might have been any family gathering after dinner for coffee and dessert in a room bright with Christmas decorations, a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the chandelier, silver bells strung along the windowsills, a lovely tree with taffeta bows and Wedgwood blue ornaments, but there was a definite sense of strain.

Tucker lifted a bronze statue of a mare running with her foal from the mantel and turned it over to look at the sculptor. “Looks like Tramp Lady, my chestnut mare.” As he returned the piece, his elbow caught a green velvet stocking hanging from the mantel. As the stocking fell, he lunged to save it from the fire. “Hey, a near thing.” He held the stocking up.

Keith’s name straggled in uneven green sparkles on the white cuff above an embroidery of Santa studying a Christmas letter. “Nifty.” He looked around with a quizzical expression. “Quick work to already have his own stocking here.”

Gina shrugged. “Peg helped Keith with the stocking this afternoon. Peg’s having a lot of fun with him.”

There might have been a faint note of envy in her voice.

Tucker carefully rehung the stocking. “Keith’s too little to write a letter to Santa, but I guess he’ll get whatever he wants.”

Harrison put his cup and saucer on a marble table. “It’s always a pleasure to be part of the holiday celebration here. The tree party this afternoon was a great success.” He nodded toward Susan. “Thank you for including us, Susan. I expect it’s time Charlotte and I were on our way.” He stood and tried for a cheerful smile.

Susan held up a hand. “Please stay for a few more minutes, Harrison. I have something I wish to discuss with everyone. We’ll wait for Peg. She and Dave are putting Keith to bed.”

She’d no more than spoken when the door opened and Dave walked in. His light blue sweater accented the sheen of his carefully cut hair. He spoke to Susan. “Peg almost has him asleep.” He sounded impatient.

“She’ll be here soon.”

Harrison sat down and folded his arms across his chest. He darted an occasional uneasy glance at Susan.

Charlotte poked her glasses higher on her thin nose and smiled at Susan. “This afternoon’s tree party was perfect. The songs added such a happy note.”

I immediately felt much warmer toward Charlotte.

Susan was animated. “I saw the woman who started the singing. A lovely redhead. She was standing in a pool of light from the lamppost. I’m sure I know her. Her face was very familiar.”

That gave me pause. Susan was a young woman when Bobby Mac and I took our last fishing trip into the Gulf. In fact, she was a new addition to the Altar Guild and I was then in my third term as directress.

Moreover, Susan would have passed my portrait in the parish hall many times.

Susan’s face crinkled as she tried to recall me.

The hall door opened and Peg slipped in, her face flushed. “I hope I haven’t been too long. Keith was too excited to relax so we sang songs. Someone had taught him ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,’ and he insisted on singing it twice.”

I took a bow though no one saw me.

Peg dropped onto a sofa next to her young man. “He’s fast asleep now.”

“Thank you, Peg.” Susan flashed her a grateful look. “Did he have a good time this afternoon?”

Peg’s smile was quick. “He talked and talked about the ’
tar
. He can’t manage the
s
. He said he put the ’
tar
on the tree and his eyes were as big as saucers. Oh, Susan, he is such a love.”

I glanced around the room. Tucker jabbed the poker into the log and sparks whirled up in a fiery rush. Gina turned a silver bracelet on her wrist around and around. Jake placed her fork on the dessert plate with a ping.

Harrison’s face had an empty look. Charlotte’s glance at her husband was anxious. Dave folded his arms, his mouth in a tight, straight line.

With a deep breath as if drawing on inner reserve, Susan slowly stood, using her cane for support. She placed the cane in front of her, leaned upon the curved handle with both hands. “I received confirmation this morning from Wade Farrell that Keith is Mitch’s son. Today has been one of the happiest days of my life.”

She stood straighter, a faint flush turning her cheeks pink, bringing back a bloom that had long been gone.

“For Mitch’s son to be here is joy beyond belief. I pray that all of you will share in my happiness.”

Peg jumped up and hurried across the room to slip an arm around Susan’s thin shoulders. “Dearest Susan. No one deserves happiness more than you.”

Peg’s quick and sweet response almost bridged the awkward silence before the others spoke. Almost.

Tucker gave a thumbs-up. “He’s a chip off the old block. He laughed when I swung him over the railing.

That would have been Mitch all the way.”

Gina brushed back a dark curl. “Of course we want you to be happy, Susan.”

Jake came to her feet, began to collect plates. Her smile was starched. “He’s a very nice little boy.” Her hands were unsteady and the plates wobbled as she stacked them.

Harrison cleared his throat. “In a world where there is so much dishonesty, I wonder if Farrell has been quite careful. As a man of the world, I’d recommend that you make a thorough check of all claims.”

Susan’s quick glance at Harrison was cool, her voice crisp. “The matter is settled.” Her look of command faded, replaced by uncertainty. She looked appealing, her classic features drawn in concern, her frail health evident. “Until Keith came, I had no direct family. I have, through the years, felt close to each of you. I appreciated your support for me. I made no secret that I had divided my estate among you. Now everything has changed. I realize”—she did not look toward Jake—“that quite reasonably each of you wonders how this will affect you.”

Tucker flashed a boyish smile. “Hey, Susan, we understand. Keith’s the man. None of us has a claim on you.

You don’t owe anybody any explanations.”

Susan’s smile was grateful. “In my mind and heart each of you does have a claim and I want to be clear. No one will be forgotten. Tucker, you have been the best manager the ranch has ever had. I hope you’ll want to stay on. I’ll make certain that you receive an excellent salary. In fact, each of you will receive a substantial bequest.” She looked at Jake, a hopeful tentative look. “I’ll arrange that you have a life interest in the house. I won’t forget anyone.”

Harrison cleared his throat. “Susan, as always, you are a gracious and generous woman. Certainly all of us are proud to be a part of your unofficial family and join in wishing you happiness. I propose a toast.” He nodded at Jake. “See that everyone has a glass of wine.”

Jake frowned at his commanding tone, but moved to the sideboard. She lifted a decanter and filled eight glasses.

When everyone was served, Harrison lifted his glass. “To Susan, wishing you sunny days—and years—with your grandson.” His smile was wide, but his eyes were frightened.

In the entryway as
coats were brought out of the closet, Dave reached out and pulled loose a short charcoal gray wool jacket. He handed it to Peg. “Let’s drive around and see the lights.” He was smiling but his gaze was steely.

Peg took a quick breath and swung toward Gina. “Won’t you come with us?”

Gina carefully did not look toward Dave. She smothered an unconvincing yawn. “I’m early to bed tonight.

Have fun.” She glanced at Jake, bidding Tucker and Harrison and Charlotte good night. “Hey, Jake, after you make the cocoa, do you want me to take Susan’s tray up?”

Dave took Peg’s elbow, urged her toward the door. “I can show you the property while we’re out.”

Jake massaged one temple. “Thank you, Gina. I’m awfully tired. Everything’s ready. I’ll take care of making it right now. She likes her cocoa very hot to start with, though sometimes she lets it sit forever and drinks it stone cold…”

Jake’s querulous voice was cut off as the door closed.

Neither Dave nor Peg spoke until they were in his car, a two-seater sports car. He turned on the motor. “Did you talk to Susan this afternoon?”

“There wasn’t time.” Peg stared straight ahead.

“Look, Peg. You have to make an effort.” His tone was curt. “I’m making an effort. It’s critical that I get this loan. I’ve got everything lined up.”

Peg lifted a shaky hand, clung to the lapel of her coat. “Let’s not talk about it now.”

The car picked up speed. His profile in the wash of a streetlamp was set and cold. “Now is when you have to do something. She’s about ready to give all the money to that brat.”

“He isn’t a brat. He’s a sweet, dear little boy.”

Dave’s voice was measured. “Okay, he’s the world’s greatest kid. Tell her you think he’s wonderful. Lay it on thick. Then explain to her that I was going to give you an engagement ring for your birthday, but everything may have to go on hold. I can’t get engaged and think about a wedding when I’m trying to start up a new practice unless I’ve got some backing. For God’s sake, she’s taking away everything you’ve counted on. The least she can do is come through on the loan.”

The car pulled up at a stop sign perhaps three blocks from Pritchard House.

“Do you know, I think I’m too tired to take a drive.” Her voice was thin. She unclicked her seat belt, opened the door. “I’ll walk back. I have a headache and maybe the night air will make me feel better.”

“Peg…”

The door slammed shut.

In an instant, the car jolted forward, tires squealing.

The occupants of the
house settled for the night. Peg had turned toward the wall as if shutting out the world.

A night-light glowed not far from Keith’s bed. Keith was curled against an oversize teddy bear almost as big as he. Charlotte Hammond had presented the jumbo brown plush bear to him after the tree-trimming party.