The Secret Christmas Child Read online

  He shrugged. “Uncle Clive pulled strings to get me funding for the dog aspect of the Rescue Haven program,” he explained. “I figured, if I couldn’t do what I wanted to do, at least I could do some good.” He drained his coffee. “Come on. Let’s walk and talk.”

  She remembered that about him, then, that he always preferred to be moving. It was why he’d wanted to work with his hands rather than in an office; it was part of the reason he’d gone into the military.

  They carried their cups to the counter and then headed outside.

  The sun peeked through clouds, and there was a dusting of snow on the ground. The cold air made Gabby wrap her scarf around her neck and put up her furry hood. Reese, just like he used to, went bareheaded.

  The temptation to reach for his hand was strong. They’d flowed so easily back into talking, just like old times. Sharing dreams.

  He looked down at her as they walked, and she got the strangest feeling that he was fighting the same impulse. They’d strolled down these streets together so many times.

  But he looked away and straightened. “Anyway,” he said, his voice going businesslike, “we should figure out this show, because we’re going to need to start practicing and getting organized right away.”

  “True.” She frowned, thinking. “It’s got to be a kids and dogs show, somehow. Ooh, let’s go into Mistletoe from Mindy,” she said as they turned a corner. “It’s sure to give us some ideas.”

  “You think?” he asked, sounding skeptical. But he held the door for her while they walked into the Christmas-themed shop. The scents of pine and gingerbread filled the air, and every possible display spot held ornaments, garlands and Christmas dishes.

  Gabby spun slowly, looking at everything. “We should bring the boys here. It’ll help them get creative.”

  Reese groaned. “The thought of all those big, clumsy boys in here... No. Just no.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “It’s in a church,” he said. “Shouldn’t it be, like, a nativity pageant or something?”

  “Dressing the dogs up like stable animals?” She frowned. “That would be cute, but would the boys go for it?”

  “Doubtful,” he said.

  She’d learned in her education classes that kids needed a sense of control. “In fact, we probably should let them do the planning, make up the show.”

  He stared at her. “Do you know how...inappropriate a bunch of boys can be?”

  “Oh, I’m sure they can.” She fingered a Santa ornament. “But if we explain to them that it’s for a church, and that it will help keep the program going, they may step up.”

  He looked skeptical as they meandered through the shop.

  “The alternative is having them sneer through a kid-like program they hate.” She was thinking of Jacob now.

  “You have a good point,” he admitted. “At the same time, this is really important to me. The show is like a test. Do we really want to leave it in the hands of a small group of troubled boys?”

  She bit her lip. “It’s scary. But if we explain how high the stakes are...”

  “Let me think about it,” he said as they reached the door again and headed out of the shop. “That’s going to take an awful lot of trust.”

  “In the boys?”

  “In God,” he said.

  She tilted her head, looking at him. That wasn’t something the younger Reese would have said.

  “How about we ask Jacob his opinion? That’ll give us a test run of what the boys might think of, and also draw him into the program.” He met her eyes, his own crinkling in the now bright sunlight.

  She drew in a sharp breath. Reese was so handsome. Tall, muscular and athletic, with those rare blue eyes that stood out against his dark complexion and hair.

  Add a sincere faith and compassion into the mix, and he was almost irresistible.

  Except she had to resist him. Because he was inevitably going to find out about Izzy, and she knew intuitively how much that would upset him. They’d both valued saving intimacy for marriage.

  That choice had been taken away from Gabby.

  Reese could never, ever find out about the circumstances of Izzy’s conception. That would devastate him and his whole family. And even though she knew better intellectually, it would cause her shame.

  So she needed to flip the switch on this attraction to Reese. Unfortunately, she had the feeling it wasn’t going to be easy to do.

  * * *

  That night, Reese looked down at the big, drooling dog beside him and took a deep breath. “I don’t know if this’ll work, Biff. You’ll have to be on good behavior.”

  The dog ignored him, lifting his leg in the light of the streetlamp in front of Nana’s house.

  So much for making a good impression. He urged the dog up the porch steps, brushed a hand over his hair and reached down to adjust Biff’s floppy ear before ringing Nana’s doorbell.

  Jacob opened the door, which Reese figured was a good sign. At least the teen wasn’t sulking in his room.

  In fact, when he looked past Jacob, he saw a puzzle on a card table in the middle of the living room. Gabby and Nana were sitting at the table, and a soda by a third chair suggested that Jacob had been working on the puzzle, too. A Christmas movie was on the old-fashioned TV in the corner. Evergreen garlands looped up the stair railing, and a small, lopsided tree stood in the corner, half-decorated.

  The house was shabby, but Reese had always appreciated how homey it was.

  “I was hoping I could come in and talk to you for a few minutes,” he said to Jacob. “Problem is, I have someone with me. Would your grandmother mind if I brought in a dog?”

  Jacob looked down, and his eyes widened. “Come on in,” he said, and pulled the door wide open.

  “Sit,” Reese commanded, keeping the dog in the entryway.

  Biff cocked his enormous head as if he was trying to understand.

  Reese gave up and looked past Jacob to Nana. “Biff is big, but gentle,” he said. “I was hoping to talk to Jacob for a few minutes about him, but I know not everyone likes dogs in the house. Should I take him back outside?”

  “Come in, come in,” she said in her raspy voice. “We’d love to have a visit. Gabby, could you take his coat and get him something to drink?”

  “Um, sure.” There was a pause, and then Gabby stood. She seemed to swallow before walking across the room and then holding out a hand for his coat. Her smile looked forced, and it seemed as if she was dragging her feet with every step. She didn’t even seem to notice the dog.

  Reese must have misread her signals this afternoon. He had gotten the feeling that maybe Gabby still had some of the old feelings. But now she looked like she’d rather see anyone else than him.

  Focus on the boy and dog, he counseled himself.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Her words were wooden.

  “No. I won’t be staying long.” Since you’re obviously not happy to see me. “I just wanted to get a little input from Jacob before we talk to the rest of the boys about the show tomorrow. And introduce him to Biff.”

  Jacob was standing a few feet away from the dog, staring at him. “Why do you want to introduce me to this dog?”

  “Because I’m hoping you’ll take him on as your project,” he said, “if you decide to do our program. He’s a little much for the other boys to handle, but since you’re bigger and older than most of them, I think you’d be good at it. Up to you, though.”

  Gabby gave him a quick glance, looking much more friendly. Thank you, she mouthed to him.

  Warmth suffused his chest. He was glad he’d come.

  “I don’t know much about dogs,” Jacob said, “but I’d like to learn.”

  Now Gabby and Nana stared at each other, eyebrows raised in identical expressions. Reese was guessing that Jacob’s a
ttitude hadn’t been consistently upbeat and eager to learn thus far.

  “Terrific.” Reese kept his voice casual. You didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm around teenagers or they’d balk. “Maybe you could get to know him a little. And would you mind talking to Gabby and me about this show we’re being asked to put on?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked into the front room, and Gabby turned down the sound on the television. Quickly, Reese explained about the show and how important it was. “So we were thinking the boys could plan the show, but I’m wondering whether they’ll be up to it. Wanted to get a teenager’s perspective.”

  “We watch videos all the time,” Jacob said with a shrug. “Probably could make a show like some of those.”

  “Those music videos are full of bad language,” Nana said. “Why, I’ve learned words I never heard in my life, volunteering down at the mission for families.”

  “The show’s going to be in a church. There can’t be any bad language.” Gabby looked at Jacob. “Do you think the boys will be able to do that?”

  “How would I know?” Jacob stuffed his hands into his pockets, still staring at the dog. “I don’t even know these kids.”

  Reese accepted Jacob’s mood shift with equanimity. He’d learned a ton about kids in a few short months, and that went with the territory. “What would make a project like that fun for you?”

  “Being able to do whatever we wanted,” Jacob said. “And music.”

  “Like Christmas carols?” Gabby asked.

  “No way!” Jacob said. “But...”

  “Yeah?” Reese dangled a treat in front of Biff’s nose, trying to get him to lie down. It didn’t work.

  “There is some good Christmas music that’s popular,” Jacob said reluctantly. “Maybe the guys would go for that.”

  “Maybe you could help talk them into it.” Reese kept his eyes on the dog, not wanting to pressure Jacob too much. “You’re older and from out of town. They might listen to you.”

  “That’s if I do the program.”

  “Right.” Reese stood to leave. “I sure hope you do, for Biff’s sake, if nothing else.” He pounded the dog’s side. “He doesn’t seem to be learning anything I try to teach him.”

  Jacob reached out a hand and touched Biff’s head, and his face morphed into a smile as he ran a hand over the dog’s soft ears.

  A sound came from one of the bedrooms at the back of the house. It sounded almost like... Yes, that was a baby’s cry, now rising to a higher volume.

  Huh? Reese looked at the three people gathered. “You have a baby here?”

  Nana smiled. “My great-granddaughter,” she said proudly.

  “Who never shuts up,” Jacob added, rolling his eyes.

  Gabby looked sick.

  Reese tried to puzzle this out. Nana’s great-granddaughter must be... He stared at Gabby.

  “I was hoping she was down for the night,” Nana said. “Guess that’s too much to ask for from a nine-month-old baby.”

  Reese’s head was spinning. “Whose baby?” he asked as he did the math in his mind.

  The baby’s cries got louder.

  “Better go get her,” Nana said to Gabby, who’d been standing as if paralyzed, looking toward the back of the house.

  Without a glance at Reese, Gabby left the room.

  Nana watched after her proudly. “She’s such a good mom. Hasn’t had an easy time of it, but she does a fine job.”

  He knelt to pet the dog, counting the months again, hoping he was wrong.

  He wasn’t. Anger surged inside him.

  Gabby’s baby must have been conceived the summer he’d left for the Middle East. Early in the summer, if she was nine months old now.

  But they’d been together early in the summer. He’d left at the end of June.

  That meant her baby had been conceived while they were dating. And he knew 100 percent that he wasn’t the father. He’d respected her boundaries, shared them. They’d never gone beyond a kiss.

  Apparently, she hadn’t kept the same boundaries with someone else...even while she was promising Reese that she cared and would wait for him.

  Chapter Four

  Gabby had hoped that Reese would have settled down by Monday morning, but as soon as she pushed open the barn door and saw his face—narrow eyes, clenched jaw—she knew it hadn’t happened.

  Most of the boys had already arrived, and she checked the time on her phone. 9:00 a.m., but apparently she and Jacob should arrive earlier, quarter till at the latest.

  She put her purse and the file folder of ideas she’d brought onto the shelf outside of Reese’s office, amid the sound of boys yelling and laughing, quiet country music playing and dogs barking. Bales of hay and heaps of straw sent their fragrance through the air.

  It could have been kind of idyllic. But there was Jacob, already off in a corner and standing sullenly by himself. There were two of the boys clearly trying to impress the others by baiting one of the dogs, holding a toy in front of its nose and then jerking it away. And when she started toward them to put a stop to it, there was Reese, stepping in front of her, giving her a dismissive wave that clearly said he didn’t think she was competent to take care of the situation.

  Meeting their deadline, putting a show together in a week, wasn’t going to be easy. Especially if Reese was hating on her.

  Without consulting her or acting like she was a part of things, Reese called the boys together and explained the need for a show. He suggested that they look online for some Christmas pageant scripts, which didn’t exactly make the boys enthusiastic. She waited for him to mention the idea of letting the boys take some control and making up their own show, but he didn’t.

  He was discounting her ideas and keeping her out of the authority loop, making her seem like just a helper. It wasn’t the way he’d described the job to her, but she needed to make money, and she needed for this job to work. It was best for Jacob, for Nana and for Izzy.

  She should just hold back, let him run the program the way he wanted to run it, stay on the sidelines. But when a couple of boys started covertly punching each other while Reese was trying unsuccessfully to get Jacob to share his ideas, she couldn’t keep quiet.

  Maybe letting the boys have a strong voice in planning their own show would be a disaster, but would it be any worse than what was happening right now? She raised her hand, and when Reese didn’t notice, she stood and waved her hand more visibly, at the same time stepping between the two boys who were fighting.

  “Could I make a suggestion?” she asked. “And I’d need everyone to pay attention,” she added, looking sternly at the boys who’d been fighting.

  Oh, how Reese wanted to say no: it was obvious, written in every tense line of his body. But to his credit, he didn’t display his lack of enthusiasm in front of the kids. “Go ahead,” he said.

  “Maybe some of the boys could brainstorm about an original show while others do online research about Christmas pageants that are already out there. We could regroup and report out. I think that would help some of the boys focus.” She gave another warning glance to the two fighting boys, to let them know she was onto their tricks. “And if you don’t have a different idea for grouping them, I’m going to suggest that we count off.”

  Reese frowned. “How about the boys can choose whether they want to work on original ideas or do research. Original-idea guys, over at the table. Research guys, gather around the computers. And anyone who doesn’t choose, we’ll count you off and assign you to a group.”

  The boys immediately went to one group or the other, probably because nobody wanted to get counted off like kindergartners. The group around original ideas was bigger, but there were enough boys willing to cluster around the program’s two laptops that it wasn’t too bad of a discrepancy. By unspoken agreement, she and Reese circulated between the
two groups, and eventually, both hummed along in a rowdy kind of productivity.

  She kept glancing over at Reese, but he never met her eyes. Of course not. He was furious that she’d conceived a baby while they were dating, at least, as he saw it.

  The idea of talking to him about it made her insides twist. She hated thinking about that horrible night. She’d had counseling, yes, and she’d sort of dealt with it, but she still felt that slick twist of shame every time she approached it mentally, so she usually refocused on other things whenever thoughts of Izzy’s conception came up.

  Avoiding the subject wasn’t doable now, though. She was going to have to work with Reese, and if he was going to be sullen and angry, it would be conveyed to the boys. It would interfere with the job they had to do. That wasn’t right.

  When the boys showed signs of being pretty involved with their projects, she approached Reese, heart pounding. “Could we talk for a few minutes?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Don’t you think they need supervision?”

  “Well...” She shrugged. “Yes, but I also think we need to clear the air. How about if we meet in the outer office where we can keep an eye on them?”

  His lips tightened and he looked off to the side. He was going to say no.

  But finally, he nodded.

  She followed him to the anteroom of his office, stopping when he turned to face her. His arms were crossed, his expression set.

  Her heart sank. Could she speak the truth to someone as closed-off as Reese? Someone she’d once loved, or thought she did?

  Part of the truth, at least. She cleared her throat. “Last night, you found out I have a child,” she began.

  He looked out toward the boys. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

  “I know it must have made you angry.”

  “I have no right to get angry,” he said, still without looking at her. “It’s in the past.”

  “I agree you have no right,” she said, “but you are angry. And if we’re going to work together, I think I need to tell you a few things.”

  He sighed and met her eyes. “Look, Gabby, I really don’t want to talk about it.”