The Christmas Child (13 page)

“Apple juice,” Kade muttered. “Be brave.”

GI Jack, looking as derelict as always, took the offered cup and then slipped a pair of cookies into his shirt
pocket. Sophie handed him two more. “I thought you and Mr. Jones were caroling.”

“Oh, we are, Miss Sophie.” GI swigged the warm wassail and smacked his lips. “Loosening up the vocals.”

Popbottle Jones, in an ancient tuxedo and shiny top hat, spoke up. “Speaking of vocals, what is the latest word on young Davey? Has he seen the specialist yet?”

“Tuesday morning at nine we have an appointment in Oklahoma City. We're hopeful.”

“Excellent. We'll be praying for a positive outcome. Keep us apprised, will you, please?”

“Of course I will.” She handed GI another cup of wassail. Kade figured what the heck and handed over several more cookies. This brought a delighted smile to the old man's grizzled face.

“I knew you were a good one the minute you hopped into that trash heap after Miss Sophie.” He chortled, spitting cookie crumbs. “Forty years ago, I woulda chased her myself.”

Sophie blushed. Kade laughed with the men. GI was simple but had a good heart.

Popbottle, the dignified half of the eccentric duo, set his cup on the table.

“Caroling commences in five minutes,” he said with a doff of his hat. “Thank you for the fine refreshments. Off we go.”

GI's head bobbed twice. “Off we go.”

“Carolers?” Kade asked as he watched them join an assembled group in period dress.

“Wait until you hear them, Kade. Your doubt will disappear faster than cookies in GI's pocket. Those two are quite the singers.”

He knew he shouldn't be surprised at anything about GI and Popbottle, but singing? “No kidding?”

“GI Jack sings tenor, if you can imagine that, and Popbottle has a rich baritone. They're really quite amazing.”

He watched her watching them and thought,
You're the amazing one.

“Do you sing?”

“A little,” she said. “Nothing special.”

He begged to differ. Everything about Sophie was special.

“What about you?”

“I can wrap my tonsils around a note or two.”

“Really?”

“Don't look so surprised. Davey and Sheba think I'm pretty good.”

“You sing for them?”

He picked a cookie crumb from the lacy tablecloth, then replaced a few empty spaces with napkins loaded with cookies.

“Pick a little guitar, too.”

“That's right. I remember seeing the guitar in your bedroom.”

“Sheba's used to it. Stopped howling and covering her ears years ago. Davey wants to learn.”

“Guitar?”

He gave her a funny look but didn't say the obvious. Davey couldn't sing if he wanted to. “I showed him some chords.”

“Kade, I love this idea. Davey needs ways to express himself. You are a genius.”

“The wassail's going to your head,” he said, both pleased and uncomfortable at her praise. He played guitar. He could carry a tune. So could half the population. Sharing his love of music was no big deal. It didn't make him a hero. Heroes did the right thing. Whatever that was.

 

Someone came along just then and interrupted the conversation. The night wore on with cookies and wassail and
cold air curling around his legs like an icy cat. The old wood floor was pretty but not too energy efficient.

Through the windows fronting the building, Kade could see a trolley car parked at the corner beneath the glow of lights. An occasional horse-drawn buggy clopped slowly down the cobblestone street. Peaceful, pretty, a time warp.

Carolers, Popbottle and GI among them, stood on the street corners, their Christmas sounds silenced by distance, but vapor clouds and glowing faces sang of joy.

They were sucking him in. Slowly. Surely. And he kind of liked the feeling.

“Have you ever seen anything so wonderful?” Sophie asked, seeing the direction of his gaze.

He turned to look into her glowing face, and he could honestly say, “Never.”

Sophie B. was more than wonderful. She was a gift he didn't deserve. Like the town and this night, he felt her moving toward him, opening her generous heart to take him in.

A decent man would go ahead and fall in love with Sophie. He wondered anew how she'd managed to remain single this long. The man who won Sophie's heart would have to be special. He'd have to recognize her for the treasure she was. A woman far above rubies.

There was nothing special about him.

He handed her a sugar cookie, more to stop his thoughts than anything. She bit and chewed, laughing with her lips sealed. Tiny crumbs scattered down her chin. He flicked them away with the tips of his fingers, glad for the excuse to touch her velvet skin.

Sophie sparkled up at him. “Our hour is almost up.”

“Yeah?” That surprised him. As she'd promised, he'd had a good time, mostly because of Sophie but not entirely. Redemption knew how to throw a party. “What now?”

He wasn't ready to take her home.

She lifted a mutton-sleeved shoulder. “I'd like to see the living Christmas cards. Want to come?”

“Sure.” Even though he had no idea what a living Christmas card was, he helped her into her coat and escorted her down the steep steps to the street, proud to be the man at her side.

Cold air jammed his lungs. He shivered. “Brr.”

“Thankfully, there are plenty of stops along the way. All the stores are open. We can pop inside to get warm anytime.”

“Like now?”

“Tough Chicago boy.” She bumped against him with a grin and then tugged him toward the stoplight on the corner. “The best displays are on this side. If we get too cold, we can hop the trolley to see the rest.

He'd joked about the cold. With Sophie's smile to warm him, he didn't even feel the windchill.

They strolled the streets with the other Victorian walkers and stopped to peer at Christmas scenes behind the large display windows. In one, a motherly woman with an upswept hairdo played the piano while ringlet-haired girls competed in a game of jacks. Behind them a fireplace glowed. A cozy scene that set him to thinking about family.

A teenage vendor in knickers with a box hung around his neck ventured past.

“Hot peanuts,” he called. “One dollar. Get your hot peanuts.”

Kade fished in his pocket for a dollar and bought a bag, more for the experience and the warmth than the peanuts. And to see Sophie smile.

“You love this stuff, don't you?” Kade asked, handing her the warm bag.

Sophie's face, rosy from the cold, turned upward. “Peanuts or the walk?”

“All of it.”

“Yes,” she said, happily hugging herself. “I love it.”

With a catch in his chest, Kade gazed down into her lovely eyes and thought of how much he'd miss her if—no, when—he returned to Chicago.

He'd expected the pull toward home to increase with the boredom of living in a small community. It hadn't.

He found her free hand and tucked it into his. Even in the fluffy, lined gloves, her fingers felt small and slender and feminine. A man could be a man with Sophie.

This was a dangerous thought, but tonight was all about pretend. Tomorrow was soon enough to remember all the reasons he didn't belong here with someone like Sophie.

“Is that who I think it is?” Sophie asked when they'd gone barely a block.

An old-time lawman in long, Wyatt Earp duster and black hat strode toward them from the other end of the street, his spurs jingling. Kade blinked in amusement.

“Chief Rainmaker?” he asked when the man approached.

The normally smooth-shaven Jesse tweaked a fake handle bar mustache. “I'm under here. What do you think?”

Kade didn't say what he was thinking. That the look was completely out of character for the staid, professional officer of the court. And he doubted a real criminal would take him seriously.

Sophie spoke up, beaming. “I like it, Jesse.”

“Let's hope no one calls me out at high noon for a gunfight. My speed's a little rusty.”

Kade had been to the shooting range with the chief. He
might not be fast, but he was deadly. For a small-town cop, Jesse was first-rate.

“Did you get my email?” Kade asked.

“Haven't had time today. You find something?”

“A few leads. I think you're right, but I'll need more time to investigate.”

Sophie lifted curious eyes to his. “Are you working for the police department on other cases?”

“I've convinced him to use his handy computer skills to chase down some information we need,” Rainmaker told her. “I hate computers.”

“Kade is wonderful at that kind of thing. Just look at the way he found Davey's mother.”

The familiar regret tugged at him. “For all the good I accomplished.”

Sophie squeezed his hand. “You gave him closure. That's a lot.”

“My office could use someone with his investigative skills and clearances,” the chief said. “We're understaffed and underfunded, but I could squeeze some money out of the budget for a man like Kade.”

Kade shifted uncomfortably. He was doing Jesse a favor and feeling useful at the same time. But he wasn't working. Not really. Not yet.

The idea of joining a small-town force had him wondering if he was ready to get back in the game. Finding Davey's mother dead had been a blow, but in the end he'd felt better instead of worse. Granted, he'd phoned his shrink to talk things over. The first time in weeks. The shocked doc had made him realize he might be moving forward again.

Come to think of it, he'd slept most of last night and his only dreams had been of Sophie.

He exhaled a vapor cloud. Small-town life was sup
posed to be simpler, but things were getting more complicated by the minute.

At least for him.

 

Sophie crunched a salty peanut shell with her front teeth. All the heat had dissipated from the small paper bag, but Kade's gesture continued to warm her heart. He was different tonight. Relaxed and almost happy. The Christmas spirit had overtaken him. How could anyone roam the festive streets of Redemption without being drawn into the mood?

She was always happy at Christmas, although she credited being with Kade for tonight's extra burst of joy. She was in love, and regardless of the outcome, she would enjoy their time together.

She wondered at his reaction to Chief Rainmaker's offer. He'd gone quiet, thoughtful. Was there a chance he'd remain in Redemption?

A horse-drawn carriage clip-clopped to a stop next to the sidewalk and a man climbed out. He reached back for the bustle-clad woman still inside. The woman laughed, threw her arms out wide and fell into the man's embrace. He whirled her around in a circle before setting her feet on the sidewalk for a lingering kiss.

Sophie averted her gaze, pinched by uncharacteristic envy. She wanted to be loved.

A strong hand tugged at her elbow. “Let's take the carriage home.”

She pivoted toward him. “But your car is here.”

“I can come back for it.”

Excitement fluttered. She wanted to. Badly. “It's not too sensible, but…”

The corners of his mouth quivered. With eyes narrowed
and a tad ornery, he said, “Live dangerously, Sophie. Ride with me.”

Her stomach nosedived. Live dangerously? He was teasing, she knew. The only danger when she was with him was from her own heart.

While she waited in anticipation, he spoke to the driver, handed over some bills and opened the carriage door. When Sophie started to climb inside, his hands came around her waist and he lifted her easily onto the step. She felt light and delicate and protected.

She scooted to the far side of the bench seat and Kade climbed in beside her. After straightening the heavy throw over their laps, all the while fighting down her billowy dress and making her giggle in the process, he tapped on the roof of the carriage. With a jingle of bells, the horse smoothly moved forward.

“How did women manage with all that?” He pushed again, playfully, at her voluminous skirts.

Sophie laughed softly. “I'm glad I'll never have to find out.”

“I thought you liked dressing up.”

“I do. For one night a year. Every day would be a chore. Do you have any idea the amount of undergarments I have under this dress?” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don't answer that.”

Kade's laugh rang out, rich and real. To hear him laugh so freely was worth the slip of the tongue. “I'll be a gentle man tonight and pretend I'm not thinking about your undergarments. Those layers must have driven men to distraction.”

“Kade!” Heat rushed up the sides of her neck. “Stop!”

He laughed again, dark eyes dancing in the passing glow of streetlamps and Christmas lights. Settling back
for the gentle ride, he put an arm around her shoulders and snugged her closer.

“I'll be good,” he murmured against her ear, his breath warm and enticing, “if you say so.”

“You better,” she said, pulse ticking away in her throat.

His lips grazed her ear and she sighed, snuggling into him. The carriage swayed to the rhythm of hoofbeats on concrete, a melody that matched her happy heart.

Being with Kade felt right in so many ways. Did he feel it, too? Or was he just a man saying sweet things to a gullible woman?

No, she didn't believe that. Even though he was a man with a man's feelings, Kade treated her with a respect and tenderness that made her feel more secure than she ever had. They could tease and flirt—and did—but Kade never crossed her invisible line.

As they rolled along, admiring the lights and Santas and Nativity displays, they made small talk. About the celebration. About Davey. About everything except the thing utmost in Sophie's mind. The two of them.

“Look,” he said, his voice quiet, “it's snowing.”

Sophie gave a delighted gasp and craned her neck toward the carriage window. “I love snow.”