On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (6 page)

BOOK: On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride
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“The police took down our names and—”

“The
police?

“Value-X Security, but they wear those cute blue uniforms and look just like regular policemen.”

“They took your names? What for?”

Her mother covered her face with both hands. “I can't talk about it.”

The door off the garage opened and in walked Noelle's father. “Dad,” she said, hoping to prepare him. “Something happened to Mom this morning.”

“Oh, Jake…” Her mother languished in her seat as though she lacked the energy to even lift her head.

“Sarah?”

“Apparently Mom and Mrs. Sutton tangled with security at the Value-X this morning.”

“We more than tangled,” her mother insisted, her voice rising, “we were…banished. The officer who escorted me out told me I won't be allowed inside the store for three months.” She bit her lip and swallowed a loud sob. “I don't know if I misunderstood him, but I think I might be permanently banned from all blue-light specials.”

“No!” Her father feigned outrage.

“Jake, this is serious.”

“Of course it is,” he agreed. “I take it this is Mary's doing?”

Her mother's fist hit the sofa arm. “I swear to you she started it!”

“You don't need to tell me what happened,” Jake said. “I can guess.”

So could Noelle.

“From here on out, I absolutely refuse to be in the same room as that woman.” She sat straighter, jaw firm, head back. “For years I've had to deal with her…her malice, and I won't put up with it anymore!”

Jake reached for Sarah's hand and gently patted it. “You're absolutely right—you shouldn't.”

Her mother's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How do you mean? Are you being sarcastic?”

“Of course not, dear,” he said reassuringly. “But there's no need to rehash old history, is there?”

“No-o-o.” Noelle heard her mother's hesitation.

“Not going to the Christmas dance will show Mary Sutton that she won't have you to kick around anymore.”

As far as Noelle was concerned, missing the Century Club Christmas dance was far from a tragedy. The only reason she'd agreed to attend was to placate her mother. This mysterious incident at the Value-X was a blessing in disguise; it seemed her father saw it in the same light. She just hoped he hadn't overplayed his hand with that last ringing pronouncement.

“Who said anything about not going to the dance?” her mother demanded.

“You did.” Her father turned to Noelle for agreement, which she offered with a solemn nod.

“Yes, Mom, you just said you won't be in the same room with that woman ever again.”

“I did?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Noelle's father said. “And I agree wholeheartedly. Missing the dance is a small price to pay if it means protecting your peace of mind.”

“We aren't going to the dance?” Carley asked, entering the room. She looked disappointed, but then Noelle's little sister was too young to understand what a lucky escape she'd just had.

“No,” Jake said. “We're going to skip the dance this year, and perhaps every year from now on. We won't let Mary Sutton hurt your mother's feelings or her reputation again!”

“We're going,” her mother insisted.

“But sweetheart—”

“You're absolutely right, Jake, Mary Sutton's done enough to me. I refuse to allow her to ruin my Christmas—and Noelle's birthday—too. We're going to show up at the dance and hold our heads high. We have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But…” Her father cleared his throat. “What if Mary
mentions the incident at the Value-X?” He lowered his voice, sounding as though that would be a horrible embarrassment to them all. Noelle had to give her father credit; he was good at this.

“She won't say a word,” her mother said with complete confidence. “Mary wouldn't dare bring up the subject, seeing that she was tossed out on her ear, right along with me.”

Her resolve clearly renewed, Sarah stood and placed her hands on her hips. Nothing would thwart her now. “We're attending the dance tomorrow night, and that's all there is to it.”

Her father made a small protesting noise that echoed Noelle's sentiments. She was stuck going to this dance when it was the very last thing she wanted.

 

Dressed in a floor-length pink formal that had once been worn by Kristen in high school, Noelle felt like last year's prom queen. Her enthusiasm for this dance was on a par with filing her income tax return.

“You look positively lovely,” her mother told her as they headed out the door.

How Noelle looked had little to do with how she felt. Her father brought the car out of the garage and held open the doors for Noelle and Carley, then helped their mother into the front seat beside him.

“How did I get so lucky—escorting three beautiful women to the biggest dance of the year?”

“Clean living,” Noelle's mother said with authority. “And a clear conscience.” Noelle didn't know whether to laugh at that remark or shrug in bewilderment. Leaning forward in order to look out the front window, Sarah added, “I think it's going to snow.”

Hearing “Jingle Bells” on the car radio, Noelle suspected her mother was being influenced by the words of the song.

“We're more prone to ice storms than snow this time of year,” her father said mildly.

Noelle had forgotten about the treacherous storms, although she'd experienced a number of them during the years she'd lived in Rose. They created astonishing beauty—and terrible dangers.

“Kristen and Jonathan are meeting us at the dance, aren't they?” Carley asked.

“That's what she said,” Noelle answered. Carley was dressed in a full-length pale blue dress with cap sleeves and she wore matching low-heeled shoes. She looked lovely and so mature it was all Noelle could do not to cry. Her baby sister was growing up.

“Do you think
she'll
be there?” her mother asked, lowering her voice.

“Mrs. Sutton's probably asking the same thing about you,” Noelle said.

Her mother gave an exaggerated sigh. “I'll say one thing about Mary Sutton—she never did lack nerve.”

The Century Club was festive, with Christmas music and evergreen swags and large red bows. The ballroom was on the second floor, the cloakroom, a bar and buffet on the first. Couples lingered on the wide staircase, chatting and sipping champagne.

Noelle glanced toward the upstairs, and her stomach tensed. Thom was there. She didn't need to see him to feel his presence. Why did he have to show up everywhere she did? Was this some kind of cosmic joke?

“Kristen!” her mother called. “Yoo hoo!” Anyone might think it'd been weeks since she'd last spoken to her daughter. “Hello, Jonathan.” She hugged her soon-to-be son-in-law.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” Kristen paused in front of Carley, feigning shock. “This isn't my little sister, is it? It can't be.”

Carley rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her pleasure. “Of course it's me. Don't be ridiculous.”

“Shall we go upstairs?” her mother suggested.

Noelle recognized the order disguised as a request. They were to mount the stairs on guard, as a family, in case they ran into the dreaded Mary Sutton.

Kristen cozied up to Noelle. “He's here,” she whispered in her ear.

“I know.”

“Who told you?”

“No one.” She couldn't explain how she'd recognized Thom's presence. She just did. Like it or not.

The ballroom was crowded, and although this wasn't the kind of social activity Noelle would have attended on her own, she couldn't help getting caught up in the spirit of the evening. A six-piece orchestra was playing a waltz, the chandeliers glittered and she saw that it had indeed begun to snow; flakes drifted gently past the dark windows. On the polished dance floor, the women in their long shimmery gowns whirled around in the arms of their dashing partners. The scene reminded her of a Victorian Christmas card.

“Would you care to dance?” Jonathan asked.

Surprised, Noelle nodded. She'd only spoken once or twice to this man who was marrying her sister, and was anxious to know him better. “Thank you. That would be very nice.”

Just as Noelle and Jonathan stepped onto the dance floor, Kristen's gaze met her fiancé's. Noelle could have sworn some unspoken message passed between them. She didn't have time to question her sister before Jonathan loosely wrapped her in his arms.

“I assume you heard what happened at the Value-X store,” she said, searching for a subject of conversation.

“Did you have as much trouble not laughing as I did?”

“More,” Noelle confessed with a grin.

“I've done business with the Suttons. They're good people.”

“This feud between our mothers is ridiculous.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kristen, who was dancing, too—her partner none other than Thom Sutton. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together, especially when she noticed that Kristen was steering Thom in her direction. Noelle marveled at her sister's courage in asking Thom to dance with her. And of course she had. Thom would never have sought Kristen out, especially for a dance in the Women's Century Club Ballroom with both mothers present.

The two couples made their way toward the center of the polished floor. When they were side by side, Jonathan stopped.

“I believe you're dancing with the wrong partner,” he said.

Noelle didn't need to look over her shoulder to guess Jonathan was speaking to Thom.

“I believe you're with the wrong woman,” Noelle heard Kristen tell her partner.

Jonathan released Noelle, and Kristen stepped out of Thom's embrace and sailed into her fiancé's waiting arms, leaving Thom and Noelle standing alone in the middle of the crowded dance floor.

Slowly, dread dictating every move, Noelle turned and came face-to-face with Thom. He didn't look any happier than she felt at this sudden turn of events. “I didn't plan this,” she said in clear, even tones.

His expression implied that he didn't consider her comment worthy of a response.

“Are you two going to dance or are you just going to stand there and stare at each other all night?” Jonathan asked.

Thom shrugged, implying that he could do this if he had to. Reluctantly Noelle stepped into his arms. She
wasn't sure what to expect. Actually, she hadn't expected to feel anything, certainly not this immediate deluge of emotion. He kept her at arm's length and gazed into the distance.

To Noelle's horror, tears filled her eyes as all the old feelings came flooding back. She was about to turn and walk off the dance floor when his fingers dug into her upper arms.

“You're not running away from me again.”

“Me?” she cried, furious at the accusation.

“Yes, you.”

His words made no sense, she thought grimly, but said nothing. The dance would be over soon and she could leave him behind. Or try to. Kristen would answer for this.

No, she decided, she had only herself to blame. Over lunch, Noelle had confided in her sister. Kristen, being idealistic and in love, had plotted to bring Noelle and Thom back together. She didn't understand that reconciliation wasn't always possible.

“I'd like to ask you a question,” she said when she could tolerate the silence no longer.

“Fine.”

“Why'd you do it? Did you want revenge for your mother so badly it was worth using me to get it?”

He stopped dancing and frowned at her. “What?”

“You heard me.” She couldn't keep the pain out of her voice.

He continued to frown, as if he still didn't understand the question.

“Don't give me that injured look,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Too many years have passed for me to be taken in by that.”

“You were the one who stood me up.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a mocking laugh. “After I
made an idiot of myself in front of my parents, too. That must've given you a real kick.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Thom, I waited in that park for two miserable hours and you didn't show.”

Not an inch separated them now as his icy glare cut into her. Dancing couples swirled around them, but Noelle was barely conscious of anyone else. For all she knew or cared, they were alone on the dance floor.

“I waited hours for you, too.”

His lying to her now was almost more than she could stand. “I beg to differ,” she said stiffly.

“Noelle, listen to me! I was there.”

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