The Secret Christmas Child Page 11

  The dogs barked when Mr. Romano walked by, and he did a double take. He muttered something about rules and animals in the church, but Sheniqua, whom Gabby had updated on the Rescue Haven situation, walked over and distracted him by showing him the costumes she and Nana were helping the boys to make.

  “We’d better go make nice,” Reese said.

  “I guess we should talk to him,” Gabby said at the same moment.

  They met each other’s eyes, and that special spark they’d always had arced between them. It was hard to look away, and when she finally did, Gabby felt a little bit out of breath.

  Keeping herself out of a relationship with Reese was proving harder than she’d ever expected.

  Maybe you don’t need to.

  The idea wouldn’t leave her alone. Nana was unfailing in her compassion, and Reese...the warm way he looked at her and spoke with her gave her hope that, now that they’d reconnected, he’d be supportive, as well.

  She definitely needed to pray about it. But the possibility of coming out of hiding gave her a giddy feeling.

  They reached Mr. Romano as he approached the group of boys Nana was overseeing. “Boys, sewing?” he asked skeptically.

  “Is there a problem with that?” Nana gave him a challenging stare.

  He lifted his hands, palms out. “No, no problem.” He looked up, noticed Gabby and Reese and frowned at them. “Those boys didn’t do an especially good job on my driveway, you know.”

  Behind them, a chair screeched out and Nana stood so quickly she had to grab the back of the chair for balance. “Were you ever young?” she asked him.

  He threw up his hands. “I’m just letting them know that I expect a higher quality of work at the performance next week. And there’s not much time.”

  “It’ll be great, Mr. Romano,” Gabby said, stepping between him and Nana. Really, they looked like they might come to blows. Reese came beside her, and she elbowed him. “Right, Reese?”

  “Um, yes. We surely hope so.”

  Mr. Romano looked around the room, shook his head and strode toward the inner door. Probably to talk to the pastor about the wrong use they were making of the church.

  She looked up at Reese. “I’m going to get working on the animal costumes. As soon as we have a decent set of outfits, we need to start rehearsing so the animals can get used to being where we’ll actually do the show.”

  “Got it. Boys, too.” He gave her a little smile as he headed toward a group that was studying the sound equipment.

  David and another younger boy were grooming the white dogs with brushes and combs. Gabby helped them tie bows in the dogs’ hair, and they all decided they were a decent facsimile of Christmas lambs. Biff amicably let them put a pair of ox horns on him, and everything was fine until he saw a squirrel out the window and lunged for it. It took both Gabby and Jacob to restrain him, and she vowed anew to make sure he was tied to something on the night of the show.

  Wolf was trying to brush Bundi, but all the activity around them had made her pant, her cloudy eyes going white around the edges. Wolf put the brush down, sat cross-legged and simply held the senior dog. “It’s okay,” he crooned. “You’re fine the way you are. You look real pretty. I’ll just carry you like this.”

  Bundi looked up at him with obvious adoration and settled into his lap.

  Gabby bit her lip as tears sprung to her eyes. The big, tough teen nurturing the small, confused dog was exactly what the Rescue Haven program was all about.

  From across the room, she heard Izzy wail and got to her feet. But before she was halfway there, Reese picked her up and held her tenderly, bouncing her a little and talking to her as he walked her around the room. Soon she was all smiles, and Gabby’s heart melted a little more.

  Look how sweet he’s being with Izzy. He had a soft, understanding heart beneath all the manly bluster.

  She wanted to tell him the truth about Izzy, she realized as she walked across the room. She could tell him. She was going to do it.

  She reached him just as he lifted Izzy in the air, making her laugh. “Thanks for taking care of her,” she said. “When you have time, we need to talk.”

  Chapter Nine

  That night, Reese whistled as he walked into the elegant steakhouse on the outskirts of Cleveland.

  Not that dining with his aunt and uncle was exactly what he wanted to be doing.

  Although normally he’d be excited about the fine food he’d be eating, tonight he couldn’t care less about that. He’d much rather be sharing some Crock-Pot stew with Gabby and her family, as she’d invited him to do.

  But the great thing was, she’d invited him. And after the electricity in the air between them at the church today, he had a good feeling about that. They’d agreed to meet up tomorrow; that was what had him whistling.

  “We need to talk,” she’d said. What did she want to talk to him about?

  He didn’t dare get his hopes up too high, but it was undeniable that she’d been more than friendly today, that there had been a spark between them and that her request to talk with him had been warm, accompanied by a sweet smile.

  He realized he had a foolish grin on his face and tried to pull himself back to the here and now. White tablecloths and clinking crystal glasses didn’t make for his favorite environment. He’d just as soon go to a diner. But thanks to spending his teenage years in his aunt and uncle’s house, he knew how to act in a place like this. He had them to thank for that.

  He was feeling uncommonly grateful tonight, grateful for everything.

  Maybe he’d bring Gabby here sometime, just for a kick; with her, it would be fun.

  Just like a picnic or a pizza would be fun with her.

  And when you started thinking that any activity you could name would be more fun with your special someone, well...it might be about time to make a move, see if she’d consider taking it to the next level. Dating, being exclusive, making a start at a commitment.

  The thought made his insides spin.

  “Reese, darling.” His aunt waved, and his uncle stood, and he wove his way through the tables, hugged them both, then sat down.

  “Where’s your prosthesis, dear?” His aunt looked concerned.

  “That’s hardly a question to start a conversation,” Uncle Clive scolded.

  Reese waved away his uncle’s concern. “It’s fine. We’re family.” He turned to his aunt. “It’s a process, getting used to it and getting the right fit. I was having some abrasions, and when that happens, the docs say to leave it off some.”

  “And you don’t want to scare the boys by leaving it off around them,” Uncle Clive said. “I understand that.”

  “Nor around Gabby Hanks,” his aunt said, the slightest curl of her lip showing her attitude.

  He thought of how open-minded the boys and Gabby had been earlier today. They didn’t seem to be the ones scared off by looking at or thinking about his prosthesis. His aunt and uncle were a different story.

  Oh, well. He found it didn’t bother him much.

  What did bother him was Aunt Catherine’s attitude toward Gabby. Where it came from, he didn’t know. His aunt was always snobbish, but he didn’t remember her having anything in particular against Gabby when they’d both been in high school.

  He shrugged. “I’m just wearing it on a schedule, like the docs suggested,” he explained. “Most folks barely seem to notice one way or the other.”

  Which was a blessing. At first, he’d felt like everyone who saw him was staring at the place where his right hand should have been. But that had been his own discomfort and self-consciousness talking, not reality.

  After a little chitchat, Uncle Clive cleared his throat. “Tell us about how your show for the church is going.”

  He looked over at Aunt Catherine. “You’ve seen the rehearsals, right?”

  “Earlie
r this week,” she said, “but I hope you’re further along now.”

  “Today was a breakthrough,” he said, and told them about the animals and costumes, the good rehearsal they’d had. “It’s too bad Paige couldn’t be there for today’s rehearsal, but we’re hoping she can come to the Saturday one, and again on Monday,” he added. “She’s a good influence on the boys.”

  “She’ll be there,” Uncle Clive promised. “And...we might even do a little more for your program. But we have a few questions first.”

  “Sure.” He’d be shocked beyond words if they wanted to donate, but he wouldn’t turn their money away. Maybe Paige’s involvement was a good thing in more ways than her considerable singing, acting and leadership abilities. “What do you want to know?”

  Aunt Catherine leaned forward. “Tell us about your relationship with Gabby.”

  He blinked. “What does that have to do with the Rescue Haven program?”

  “Potentially, quite a lot,” his uncle said.

  “I’m not sure how that could be. But for now, Gabby and I are friends.” It was true he wanted to be more, but his aunt and uncle didn’t need to know that.

  His aunt tilted her head to one side. “I’ve seen what looks like...interest. Of a romantic kind.”

  She didn’t say on whose side, and Reese wanted to ask her: Really? Is Gabby interested in me? But that smacked of the playground, and anyway, he didn’t want his aunt involved in his love life. “As I said, we’re friends. But I’m still not sure what that has to do with anything.”

  Aunt Catherine sighed. “We’re just trying to save you from heartbreak, Reese.”

  Something was suspicious about her concern. She’d never much cared about his heart before. “I appreciate that,” he said, “but I’m fine.”

  “Not if you fall in love with that...that woman,” Uncle Clive said.

  “We’re just afraid she’s not going to accept you.” Aunt Catherine looked pointedly at his empty sleeve.

  That stunned him into blurting it out: “You think she won’t accept me because of my disability?”

  “It could be a problem,” Uncle Clive said.

  “Women...you just don’t have much experience with them,” Aunt Catherine added.

  He frowned, looking from one to another, his face feeling unaccountably hot. “Gabby’s not like that,” he said.

  “We just hate to see you hurt,” his aunt said.

  “We’d like to see you doing something positive,” Uncle Clive said. “And so...” He trailed off, looking at his wife. “We’d like to make a contribution to the Rescue Haven program.”

  “But only if you let Gabby Hanks go.”

  “What?” He stared at them as anger started to boil. “You mean fire her? For what?” He’d heard from his former assistant that she definitely wasn’t coming back, and the more he worked with Gabby, the more he liked the idea of keeping her on, if she’d stay. The notion of firing her was plain ridiculous.

  “Now, don’t get upset.” His uncle pursed his lips. “We’ve been talking, that’s all, and we think it would be best. For the good of the program.”

  The waiter brought their meals then, and Reese stared blankly at his giant steak. “I didn’t order this.” And he wouldn’t have, because how was he supposed to cut a steak with one hand?

  “We knew what you always ordered,” Aunt Catherine said. And then, as the waiter fussed around delivering the rest of the food and Reese just looked at his steak, she made a small, strained sound. “Clive,” she said faintly, “he can’t cut it.”

  Heat rose in Reese’s neck and face. There was probably a way to do it one-handed; he looked up how-to videos almost every day and was learning all kinds of workarounds for his disability. But he’d never looked up cutting a steak; it hadn’t been an issue before.

  And it wasn’t as if he could google it on his phone and figure it out, not here and not with his aunt and uncle staring at him.

  Suddenly, he felt more nauseated than hungry.

  “Hey, don’t think a thing of it. I’ll cut it.” Uncle Clive pulled Reese’s plate over and began slicing the steak up. “How’s that, eh? Good size of bites?”

  “It’s fine.” Reese wished the floor would open up and swallow him. Having his meat cut up for him like a toddler stabbed him right in the gut.

  He took deep breaths and tried to remember what the therapists and social workers at the VA had said. Breathe through the uncomfortable situations. Keep your sense of humor. Most people don’t mean to be insensitive; they’re just awkward around differences. Don’t focus on what you can’t do.

  Which meant Reese needed to stop focusing on his cut-up steak and figure out his aunt and uncle’s agenda. They were definitely acting strange. He couldn’t understand their animosity toward Gabby. “Just explain your thinking to me, on the Rescue Haven program and on Gabby,” he said. “I don’t get it.”

  His aunt took a delicate sip of water. “Back to our, er, potential donation. We know your program is at risk. And frankly, the chances of getting that group up to performance level by Monday night are pretty slim.”

  Uncle Clive pushed his plate of neatly cut steak bites back toward him. “If you don’t get the go-ahead from that church board, you’re going under. But we have a check right here that can pull you back out of the red.”

  “You could help hundreds of boys, Reese,” his aunt said.

  Reese forked up a bite of steak. “I don’t understand why Gabby Hanks has anything to do with whether you’ll donate.”

  “Eat your steak,” Uncle Clive urged. “And just know that we have our reasons.”

  “Gabby was a bad influence on Brock.” His aunt pushed lettuce leaves around her salad bowl. “You weren’t here when that happened, but it soured us on her.”

  “We’re just trying to do for you what we didn’t do for Brock,” his uncle said. “Dig in, dig in!” He took his steak knife and cut into his own rare steak.

  Reese watched the red juices pool on the plate. “You’re going to have to be a lot more specific than that,” he said. “It’s hard for me to imagine Gabby being any kind of a bad influence. She’s a great person.”

  His aunt pressed her lips together and nodded. “That’s what we thought, too.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Just...a number of things.” Uncle Clive gestured with his fork. “Eat up.”

  “It’s just a feeling we had,” his aunt added.

  So Reese did eat, because he was hungry and the steak was good. But though he continued to probe about what might be behind his aunt and uncle’s attitude, he didn’t get any answers. He plowed through his steak and potato, even had dessert at their insistence, spoke with a couple of their acquaintances and listened to his aunt brag about his war record, smiled and nodded as the folks thanked him for his service.

  His good mood had disappeared. His aunt and uncle weren’t people whose lifestyle he admired or shared, but they’d raised him after his parents had died. They must have good intentions at heart, right?

  As they said their goodbyes, his uncle pulled him to the side. “I know you’ll need time to think about this proposition,” he said, “but we really would like to help out your program.”

  Reese narrowed his eyes. “But only if I’ll fire Gabby.”

  “And avoid her socially, as well. For your own protection.”

  “She’s become indispensable to Rescue Haven’s daily activities,” he said. Had that been a mistake?

  “And to you?” Uncle Clive narrowed his eyes and studied Reese.

  “We’re friends,” Reese repeated through gritted teeth.

  “It wouldn’t take much to get rid of her,” Uncle Clive said. “I think if you turn a cold shoulder to her, she’ll get the message. I suspect she’s acting affectionate because she wants something out of you.”


  “She’s not—”

  “I know, you think she’s not that kind of person. But we men tend to get a little shortsighted when there’s an attractive woman acting overfriendly.” He patted Reese’s shoulder. “Just think about it.”

  Irritation surged through Reese’s entire body as he said polite goodbyes outside the restaurant. He’d been in such a good mood starting the evening. Now, somehow, he felt like a chump.

  As he drove home, as he flipped channels on television, Reese couldn’t get their words out of his mind. He couldn’t fire Gabby. She didn’t deserve it, and moreover, she had a child and a grandmother depending on her.

  He liked her. A lot. But even so, he felt a little damper on his enthusiasm for their getting together the next day.

  Could she be enacting some kind of game on him? Or just being kind to a veteran, like those fake people at the restaurant? Had her words around the campfire been a kind lie?

  Could a woman really love a man as disfigured as he was?

  * * *

  The next evening, Gabby approached Reese’s house and wondered whether she’d made a huge mistake.

  For one thing, he lived crazy far out in the woods. She’d been somewhat familiar with the name of his street, which she’d gotten from a quick online search, but she hadn’t realized it continued going and going and going, finally turning into a dirt road consisting of two deep, icy ruts.

  Her car was not happy with her. She only hoped the ancient vehicle wouldn’t have half its important parts bounced off.

  Of course, getting stuck might be better than arriving, considering what she was here to do. She had to talk to Reese, and it wasn’t going to be easy. She’d never told anyone about the assault, except for the therapist she’d talked to at the Christian halfway house and one of the nurses in the delivery room. They’d been women, and strangers, professionally compassionate.

  Reese was a whole other story. He’d grown up with Brock, gotten jealous of him because of how much his aunt and uncle gave him while doling out the bare minimum to the nephew they’d been guilted into raising. Oh, he’d never said as much, but he had to feel that way. She’d felt it for him.