The Doctor's Christmas (10 page)

Her mind flashed back to that night at the Christmas pageant rehearsal. Perhaps there was a connection between Grant and the rich men who'd brought their gifts.

Open his heart, Lord,
she whispered silently.

She couldn't ask for a better audience than the three children to hear the old familiar story. They listened raptly, but Grant's eyes were shuttered, telling her nothing of what he felt.

When the kings had gone home again by another way, she closed the book and put it on the bedside table. “Let's say prayers, now. Who wants to start?”

Tacey folded small hands. “Now I lay me…” The two boys joined in.

“And please God bless Mommy and bring her home soon. Amen.”

“Amen,” Maggie added softly, and bent to kiss the child's soft cheek.

She moved toward the other bed, smiling as Joey ducked away from her kiss. It was a game they played every night. Joey wanted the kiss, but his manhood demanded that he declare it mushy.

She bent over Robby, then realized that Tacey was holding out her arms to Grant. Maggie's heart twisted. She'd never seen Tacey voluntarily hug a man before. Did he even realize—

Then she saw the sheen of tears in Grant's eyes, and she knew he understood.

She stood, and Grant joined her in the doorway. “You get to sleep now, okay?”

On a chorus of agreement, she closed the door.

Grant didn't speak as they went down the stairs, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was oddly intimate. They might be two parents, planning to spend a quiet evening together after the children were in bed.

She jerked her mind away from that dangerous thought. She couldn't go letting herself imagine anything of the kind. The best she could hope for from Grant was that he wouldn't turn them in.

He stopped in the middle of the living room. He might have been staring at the Christmas tree, but she had a feeling he didn't see it.

Finally he looked at her. “All right. You win.”

Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“I understand why you feel the way you do about those kids and their mother. I just hope you're right about her. But whether you are or not, I won't turn you in.”

“Thank you.” She breathed the words, her eyes filling with tears that she tried to blink away. “It's going to work out all right. You'll see.”

“I wish I had your confidence.” His mouth tight
ened. “Even with the best intentions in the world, we may not win. You realize that, don't you?”

“I know.”

Thank you, Lord.

We, he'd said. In spite of everything, Grant was in this with her. She couldn't ask for more than that.

 

Grant dug the snow shovel into the layer of fresh snow on the front walk. The additional snowfall hadn't amounted to more than a couple of inches, but it seemed to have made people want to stay home. He and Maggie had cut afternoon clinic hours short when the waiting room stayed empty.

Strictly speaking, he didn't suppose it was his job to clear the clinic sidewalks, but if he didn't, the task would undoubtedly fall to Maggie. She certainly had enough to do.

For a moment he saw her the way she'd looked the previous evening, her dark eyes shimmering with tears and reflecting the lights from the Christmas tree. He'd wanted to kiss her.

Now where had that thought come from? He'd already decided that was one temptation he wouldn't give in to again. Maggie wasn't the kind of person who'd indulge in a frivolous affair, even if he were so inclined. Her life was wrapped up in her work, her people, her faith and those kids.

So he wasn't going to think about her that way. He'd concentrate on how good it felt to get in some physical activity. Button Gap didn't have a conve
nient health club, but that didn't mean he had to sit around.

He hefted another mound of snow with the battered old shovel he'd found in the back hall. Amazing how heavy the snow was despite the fact that it looked so light and fluffy. He was actually working up a sweat.

The door to Maggie's place slammed. Joey ran across the porch, used the snow shovel he carried as a vaulting pole and skidded to a stop next to him.

“Maggie says I can help you shovel,” he said importantly. “The other kids are too small, but I can help.”

“Sounds good.”

He tried to think if he'd ever approached a chore with such enthusiasm when he was a kid. Probably not, but then, nobody had expected him to do anything but get high grades and be polite. Joey might be a little rough around the edges, but he had a good heart.

“You know what?” Joey shoveled energetically, sending snow flying. “I was thinking about that story Maggie read last night.”

“The three wise men?” He hoped his comments about the number of wise men in the pageant weren't going to come back to haunt him.

“Yeah, those guys.” Joey paused, shovel poised. “Seems like, if they were rich guys, maybe even kings, they should've given Baby Jesus something better.”

He tried not to smile. “Better than gold?”

“What's a baby gonna do with gold?” Contempt filled Joey's voice.

“You might have a point there,” he admitted.

“What's that frankincense stuff, anyway?”

Joey seemed filled with questions on a subject Grant would prefer to ignore.

“What makes you think I know?” he countered.

The boy's nose wrinkled. “Well, you gotta know stuff like that. I mean, you're a grown-up and a doctor. You oughta know everything.”

“Everything is a tall order.” He dredged through long-ago memories of Sunday school classes. “I think frankincense was something sort of like perfume. It had a sweet smell. And myrrh is a kind of spice.”

“Well, there you go.” Joey flung his hands out in disgust. “What would a baby want with stuff like that?”

Grant would have liked to tell the boy to go ask Maggie, but something insisted that Joey deserved an answer from the grown-up he'd asked.

“Those were considered presents fit for a king,” he said. “That showed that the wise men understood who Jesus was.” And he was certainly the last person in the world who ought to be explaining theology to an eight-year-old.

“Oh.” Joey digested that. “You mean like he was God's son.”

The kid had a grip of the essentials, anyway. “Yes.”

“Well, I still think he'd have liked something else better. Like a red toboggan, maybe.” Joey's eyes
grew wistful. “A person could go awful fast on a red toboggan, with all this snow.”

Baby Jesus hadn't needed a red toboggan, but he suspected he knew who did. “Maybe you'll get one for your birthday or for Christmas.”

Joey shook his head and sent another shovelful of snow flying. “No. My mama can't afford something like that. It doesn't matter. I can get on fine without one.”

For a moment he was speechless. The child's calm acceptance of what he couldn't have shamed him with reminders of all the expensive toys that had been piled beneath his Christmas tree over the years.

“You wanna know a secret?” Joey leaned close, as if someone might be lurking in the nearest snowdrift.

Grant nodded.

“I'm making something special for Maggie for Christmas. Aunt Elly's helping me. It's a really nice pot holder so she won't burn herself when she takes stuff out of the oven. You think she'll like it?”

He discovered there was a lump in his throat. “I think she'll love it.”

“Hey, guys!” Maggie stood in the doorway. “How about warming up with some hot chocolate? It's all ready.”

“You bet.” Joey scrambled toward the house.

He probably shouldn't. Being around Maggie only seemed to make him do things he'd never expected, like hiding three kids from the authorities. To say nothing of feeling things he'd be better off not feel
ing. But Maggie was holding the door open, and he found himself following Joey inside.

“You both did a great job on the walk.”

Maggie settled the kids around the coffee table with their chocolate, then put a plate of cookies within reach. She tousled Joey's hair, and the boy grinned, then winked at Grant, apparently reminding him to keep his secret.

Maggie went into the kitchen, and he followed, using the sink to wash his hands.

“Would you rather have coffee than hot chocolate?” Maggie lifted the pot from the stove.

“No, the chocolate is fine.” He dried his hands. “Smells good.”

“You were looking very solemn. I thought maybe you didn't like hot chocolate.”

“I was thinking about my conversation with Joey. He has a better understanding than a lot of adults about what it meant for Baby Jesus to be poor and alone.”

“I suppose he does.” There was a question in her eyes, but she didn't ask it.

“He's making gifts for Christmas.” He shook his head. “I honestly think he's more excited about what he's giving than what he's getting.”

Maggie considered that, head tilted to one side, her glossy dark hair swinging against her cheek. “That's the way it should be, isn't it?”

“I suppose so. It often isn't.” He frowned, knowing he wasn't doing a very good job of putting his
feelings into words. “He just made me realize that I've never given anyone a gift that really cost me.”

Maggie probably thought he was crazy. He certainly sounded that way.

“Look, I'd like to get something special for Joey's birthday tomorrow. Where can I find a red toboggan?”

Her eyes widened. “Do you mean that?”

“I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it.” He moved impatiently, suddenly wanting to run out and do this. “I know you got a saucer for him, but—”

“That's all right. He'll share that with the little ones, and he'd adore a toboggan. But, Grant, they're awfully expensive.”

He shrugged. Maggie's idea of awfully expensive probably wasn't the same as his.

“That doesn't matter. Where can I get it?”

“You'll have to drive down to Millerton. You came through it on your way here. There's a hardware store right on Main Street that would have them. But—”

“Good.” He grabbed his jacket. “I'll go now, before they close.”

“But it's so expensive,” she repeated. Her eyes were troubled.

“Not for me,” he said honestly. “That's what I meant when I said I'd never given a gift that cost me. I've never had to sacrifice anything to give to someone else.” He caught her hands in his. “Let me do this, okay?”

“Okay.” She lifted her face toward him with a smile.

He shouldn't. He was going to.

He drew her toward him and kissed her, feeling the startled movement of her lips against his. Then he let her go and bolted out the door before he could give in to the desire to keep right on kissing her.

G
rant should be here soon. Maggie glanced at the clock as she forked fried chicken onto a platter. He wouldn't miss Joey's birthday, not after he'd driven down to Millerton the day before for that toboggan.

They'd promised Joey his favorite meal. Aunt Elly bustled to the stove, bearing a plate of sweet corn from her own garden that she'd frozen for winter. Sweet corn and fried chicken—that was all he'd wanted. The birthday cake and presents would probably send him into orbit.

A knock at the door sent Joey racing to it. He flung the door open, and his face fell. It was Grant.

“Hi, Joey.” Grant stepped inside, giving Maggie a questioning look.

“Okay, you kids scoot into the other room so we can get this meal on without you underfoot.” She shooed them. “It'll be ready in a couple of minutes.”

As they stampeded into the living room, Grant turned from greeting Aunt Elly, his eyebrows lifting.

“I think he's been secretly hoping his mother would get here for his birthday,” she explained. “That's why he looked disappointed.”

Grant's mouth tightened. “She should be here.”

“I know.” She rubbed her arms, feeling chilled, as if the cold air had come in with Grant. Maybe she'd been secretly hoping that, too. But Nella hadn't come.

“Well, let's get this food on.” Aunt Elly wiped her hands on her apron. “No sense fussing over what we can't do anything about.”

“Right.” Maggie pasted a smile on her face and went to get the chicken. All she could do at the moment was to make sure Joey had a good birthday. She'd worry about Nella later.

After a few minutes of the inevitable last-minute rush, they were all seated around the table.

“Joey, you're the birthday boy.” Maggie reached out to him on one side and Grant on the other. “You say the blessing.”

Joey, eyes wide at the sight of his favorite dishes, nodded and grabbed her hand. “God-bless-this-food-and-bless-us-Amen.” He reached for the chicken.

She started to correct him, but Grant squeezed her hand just then, and she lost track of what she'd intended to say. By the time he'd let go and she could think rationally again, Joey had already passed the platter.

Grant picked up an ear of corn. “This actually
looks fresh.” He tasted. “How on earth did you get sweet corn at this time of year?”

Aunt Elly smiled, satisfied. “Picked fresh from my garden in August. No more than ten minutes from the garden to my freezer.”

“Sure is good.” Robby seemed to be wearing butter from ear to ear. “I'm glad it's Joey's birthday.”

“Me, too,” Tacey said.

Joey dug into his food, and Maggie began to relax. Of course he was disappointed that Nella wasn't here, but it would still be a good birthday. He couldn't help but enjoy himself, especially when he saw the gift Grant had waiting on the porch outside.

They'd eaten their way through the whole platter of corn, most of the chicken and huge wedges of Aunt Elly's double chocolate cake, when someone knocked on the door. Again, Joey darted to answer, hope and caution warring in his expressive face.

“Are you Joseph Bascom?” The delivery man held a paper-wrapped parcel.

Too awed to show disappointment that it wasn't Nella, Joey nodded.

“Then this is for you.” The man handed it over, glanced toward the table and smiled. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” Joey shut the door and then turned to them, holding the package in both hands. “I got something. He said it's for me.”

“So we see. Do you want some help opening it?” Grant said.

Joey shook his head. As if the question had jolted
him out of his wonderment, he plopped down on the floor and ripped the box open.

“Cars!” He took out three small metal cars. “Look, Robby. I got three cars, brand-new ones. And an airplane.”

Tacey and Robby hovered over him, awestruck.

“Looks like there's a card,” Maggie pointed out, praying it was from Nella.

Robby ripped it open, frowning as he deciphered the words. He looked up finally, and she could see he was fighting back tears. “It's from Mama. She's sorry she's not here. She loves us.”

There was a lump in her throat the size of one of the eggs from Aunt Elly's geese. She swallowed. “Of course she does. You know, I think there might be some other presents around here, too.”

She went to the pantry and carried out the snow saucer.

“A saucer!” Joey squealed.

Almost before she could put it down, all three children were sitting on it, momentary sorrow gone. Joey wore a grin from ear to ear.

Then it was Aunt Elly's turn to get out the gift she'd hidden when she came in. “Here's something to keep you warm when you play in the snow.”

He ripped off the paper and shook out a hand-knitted red muffler. “Wow.” He put the muffler around his neck and stroked it. “I never had a birthday like this before. Never.”

“Seems as if there's something out here for you.”
Grant reached onto the porch and lifted in the red toboggan, holding it out to the boy.

If she lived to be a hundred, she didn't think she'd see a better sight than Joey's expression at that moment. Awe, wonder and disbelief chased each other across his face.

“For me?” He reached out tentatively, as if not quite daring to touch it.

“For you.” Grant put it in his hands.

“Wow.” Joey seemed to have lost the ability to say anything else. “Wow.”

Grant looked—

Maggie had trouble classifying that expression. Pleased, she supposed, that his gift was so well received. But almost ashamed, as well, as if it shouldn't be so easy to make someone so happy.

“What do you think?” Grant ruffled Joey's hair. “You want to take it out in the yard and give it a try?”

All three of the children rushed for their coats, and in a moment the adults were alone with the dirty dishes.

“Well, that boy won't soon forget this birthday.” Aunt Elly started to clear the table. “But I reckon he'd give all the presents back if he could have Nella here.”

“I know.” Maggie picked up an empty platter. “I just wish—”

“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride,” Aunt Elly said firmly. “This doesn't take wishing. It takes doing something about.”

“I agree.” Grant stood up, his palms braced on the table. “You saw Joey's face when he realized his mother wasn't going to come. We have to do something.”

She pushed away the sense that they'd both turned against her. They wanted what was best for the children—she knew that. “I know.” She rubbed at the ache that had begun in her temples. “I'd hoped and prayed Nella would come back on her own, but I've let it go on too long. I'll have to go after her.”

Grant caught her arm, swinging her to face him. “What do you mean, go after her? Do you mean to say you've known all along where she is?”

“Not exactly.” Her heart sank. As if everything else wasn't enough, she'd given Grant one more reason to distrust her. “I have an idea, that's all. About a place where Nella used to live. That's where her letters have been postmarked.”

“I see.” His face had tightened to an impenetrable mask. “You didn't bother telling me that.”

She didn't have any response that would make a difference in what he thought.

“I'll go and find her. I'll leave first thing in the morning.”

“Good.” Grant's expression didn't change. It was still armored against her. “And I'm going with you.”

 

Grant gripped the steering wheel as he waited for Maggie to come back out of the roadside café. They'd closed the clinic for the day and left early. The drive to West Virginia had been done mostly in silence. He
hadn't known what to say to Maggie that wouldn't make him angry all over again that she hadn't told him.

The sight of Joey being so brave about his disappointment had ripped through his heart. It was as if being in Button Gap had stripped away his professional barriers, making him vulnerable to the child's pain in an intensely personal way.

He didn't like being vulnerable. Of course he had to care for his patients as a physician, but he'd always kept that solid, professional shield in place. It was the only way he knew to go on functioning.

Maggie came out of the café, juggling two foam coffee cups. He reached across to open the car door for her, and she handed him one.

“No luck,” she said, sliding into her seat. “No one there has seen Nella.”

He took a sip of the coffee, then consulted the map he'd put on the dashboard. “We'll be in Brampton in another half hour. It looks like a decent-size town. How do you propose we look for Nella?”

He could feel the caution in her gaze. This was the most he'd said to her in hours.

“I thought we'd start with the phone book. Nella's maiden name was Johnson—unfortunately pretty common, but maybe we'll hit some relatives.”

“You're not thinking of just phoning them, are you? If she's hiding, it would be too easy for them to say they hadn't heard from her.”

She shook her head. “No, I figure we'll have to go to every address we can find.”

“And if that doesn't work?” He had to keep pushing, in case there was something else she hadn't told him.

“The only job Nella's ever had is waitressing. We'll just have to start working our way through the restaurants and cafés.”

He started the car and pulled onto the highway. “That could take days.” He didn't relish spending his time poking around a strange town, looking for a woman he'd never met. “Maybe we should have called in a private investigator. Or the authorities.”

“No!” Her glare singed him. “You agreed to give me a chance to find her first. And if you think this is a waste of your time, you didn't have to come.”

“Yes, I did have to come. I couldn't trust you to do this on your own.”

The words hung in the arm between them like an indictment, and he saw her wince. Well, that was how he felt. Maggie hadn't told him any more of the truth than she'd been forced to, and he'd swallowed every word.

She was silent for so long that he didn't think she'd respond. Then she set her cup carefully into the holder and clasped her hands in her lap.

“I'm sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Yes. You should have.” He wasn't in a mood to make this easy for her.

“Why?” She fired the word at him. “You're saying I should have trusted you with Nella's whereabouts. Why? All you've been able to say since you
found out about the kids is that I should turn them over to the authorities.”

“That's not fair, Maggie. I agreed to wait, in spite of the danger to the clinic.”

“That's another thing. I thought you preferred to know as little as possible. At least that way you're not implicated personally.”

He clenched the steering wheel, because what he'd like to do was grab Maggie and shake her. “I became involved the minute the clinic did. You know that.”

He glanced at her. She was leaning forward, staring out the windshield, as if willing the car to go faster.

“All right, the clinic is involved,” she said finally. “But you're asking why I didn't trust you.” Her hands gripped each other tightly. “Rely on you. And I guess the answer is that I don't rely on people easily.”

“You trusted the rest of Button Gap. Everyone in town knew but me.”

“I've known them most of my life. I've only known you a few weeks, and even if—” She stopped, turning her face away from him.

How had she intended to finish that sentence? Even if you kissed me? Even if I care for you?

He pulled away from that line of thought. It couldn't go anywhere.

“Look, I know how much you care about those kids. I understand why you don't trust the system. But they're not the only ones involved. How will everyone else in Button Gap get along if the clinic closes?”

“That's not fair. Everyone agreed to help.”

“Sure they did. But you and I are the professionals. We're the ones who know the rules. If someone gets blamed for this, it will be us. And the clinic.” They'd traveled full circle, and it didn't seem they were any closer.

“We won't let that happen.” She turned toward him. “For everyone's sake, we have to find Nella. And we will find her.”

“I hope you're right, Maggie.” He glanced in the rearview mirror to change lanes. “Because here's the exit, and I've got to say I don't feel all that confident.”

 

A few hours later, Maggie's confidence had begun to fade. She tried to pump it up, but it was useless. They were down to the last Johnson in the phone book, and the afternoon was wearing on. If this one didn't know anything, it would be time to start checking on restaurants, and that hope seemed more futile as the hours passed.

Maybe Grant had been right. She glanced at him as he pulled to the curb in front of the cottage listed to a Mrs. Helen Johnson. A private investigator would have done this better, but she didn't have the money to pay one.

Grant did. He hadn't offered, and she wouldn't ask.

He got out. “Are you coming?”

“Of course.” She tried to put some energy into her steps as she got out and started up the walk. Grant had been doubtful all along. She couldn't let him guess that she didn't feel so sure of success, either.

She knocked on the door, taking a quick look around. The cottage seemed to sag into itself, as if it had given up a long time ago. She knocked again, and the graying lace curtain on the window twitched.

“Mrs. Johnson?” she called. “Can you come to the door, please?”

She heard shuffling footsteps from inside that moved slowly toward the door. Next to her, Grant shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Impatient.