Shenandoah Christmas. Lynnette Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ widening of his grin, the dawning laugh in his eyes. She liked making Ben laugh.

      Anna didn’t laugh the next morning when Cait recounted the conversation at choir practice. “I could have told you Ellen wouldn’t be able to take on the pageant. She’s got all the responsibility she can handle at home.”

      “That’s what she said.” Cait studied her sister, noticing the lack of light in Anna’s brown eyes, the absence of color in her cheeks. “Are you feeling okay?”

      “Kinda achy,” Anna admitted. “Tired. The baby moved around a lot last night, and I couldn’t sleep.”

      “You should go back to bed. There’s nothing going on that I can’t handle—a few dishes, a little laundry.” She got up and closed her hands around Anna’s shoulders, easing her to her feet. “Go on. Git. I’ll wake you up for lunch.”

      With a sigh, Anna headed for the bedroom. “Give me enough time to take a shower first. Peggy Shepherd’s coming by this afternoon. I ought to look halfway decent.” She glanced at the mirror in the hallway. “As if that’s really possible anymore.” Her slow, scuffing footsteps faded as she moved down the hall.

      Cait got the chores done, then sat down with her guitar in the living room, still playing around with an arrangement for “Bobby McGee.” Why did the sweet, stirring words automatically bring Ben to mind?

      Not much of challenge there—the man was seriously, fatally attractive. And off-limits to a rootless player like herself. One reason his assumptions had made her so angry on Sunday was that he was pretty much correct. The few close relationships she’d experienced hadn’t lasted long. Working in the entertainment industry pulled people apart, no matter how much they cared about each other. And in the end, she’d always chosen the job over the man. So she would just have to put these Ben Tremaine fantasies completely out of her head.

      Determined, she strummed up a loud and rowdy version of “Hit the Road, Jack.”

      Midmorning, David bolted into the house at his usual double-time speed. “Where’s Anna?”

      Cait ran through an arpeggio. “She was tired this morning, so I sent her back to bed.”

      He stopped dead in the center of the room. “Is she okay?”

      “I think so. Just tired.” David always worried too much.

      “Have you checked on her?”

      His voice had taken on a harshness she’d never heard before. Startled, Cait stared up at her brother-in-law. “I figured she’d call if she needed something.” By the end of the sentence, she was talking to herself. David had stalked down the hallway to the bedroom, his heels like rocks pounding on the wood floor.

      In a minute he was back. “She’s asleep.”

      “That’s what I figured.” Cait smiled teasingly. But David didn’t smile back and she let hers fade. “What’s wrong? Why are you so tense?”

      He dropped into the chair just behind him, put his bony elbows on his bony knees, then took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “I—I can’t take too much more of this.”

      “Of what?”

      “The worry. The waiting. Never knowing if the next hour, or the next minute, will bring on a full-scale emergency.” Shaking his head, he let his hands fall between his knees. “I’m so tired.”

      She wasn’t sure what to say. “You always have to wait on babies. It’s the nature of the process, right?”

      David didn’t answer, just stared at the floor, his head hanging low.

      “It will be okay, David. You know it will.”

      “Do I?” He looked up again, his eyes bleak. “It wasn’t okay the last two times. We were careful, and we prayed, and…the babies died anyway. There’s no more guarantee with this one. And she’s far enough along that we could lose Anna and the baby.”

      “You have to believe that won’t happen.”

      “You’re right. I do.” He laughed, but the sound was bitter. “I’m the minister. My faith’s strong, steady, one-hundred percent reliable. ‘Whatever my lot…it is well with my soul,’” he said, quoting an old hymn. Then he muttered a rude word, one Cait had never heard him use.

      “Cait? Who’s here?” Anna came into the living room. “Oh, David—what are you doing home in the middle of the morning?” She looked a little more rested, but no less pale.

      David cast a warning glance at Cait and got to his feet. “I needed a book I’d left at home to work on Sunday’s sermon.” He crossed to his wife and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “See you for lunch.” Before Anna could say anything else, he left the room, and then the house.

      Anna sank onto the couch across from Cait. “What were you two talking about?”

      “You, of course. You’re everybody’s favorite topic of conversation.” But Anna shouldn’t have to worry about David’s doubts, so Cait decided to gloss over those details. “I must get asked five times a day how you’re doing, and how much longer it will be and is there something somebody can help you with. You’ve got a lot of friends in this town.”

      “They’re good people.” She lay back against the cushions. “That’s why I hate to disappoint them with the Christmas pageant. Maybe I can do it,” Anna said, sitting up again. “I don’t really have to stand up to direct or to plan. I can sit and think—”

      “No, you don’t.” Cait put a hand on her sister’s knee. “You do not need the stress of trying to plan and worry. You have to stay calm and relaxed. I’ll find somebody to handle the program for you. I swear. I can’t do it myself, but I won’t leave you in the lurch.”

      For the first time that day, Anna actually smiled.

      Cait only hoped she could deliver on her promise.

      MADDIE AND SHEP were much better on Friday, though they still didn’t go back to school. Ben was on his feet again, although not feeling a hundred percent, and he spent hours clearing away three-days’ worth of mess. When Peggy called to ask about the kids coming for dinner, he was sorely tempted, just so he could flake out for a solid night’s sleep.

      But he owed his kids more than that. “I planned to call you and suggest we skip this week. The kids have had the flu—”

      “What? Why didn’t you call me? Are they getting better? Have you taken them to see Dr. Hall?”

      He smiled a little at her fierce concern. “I didn’t want you and Harry getting sick. And yes, they’re much better—enough that they spent the day running around the house whenever I had my back turned. I’ll probably let them outside tomorrow, or maybe Sunday.”

      “Ben, I wish you wouldn’t be quite so independent. They’re our grandkids. We want to help.”

      “I know. And when I really need help, you’ll be the first people I ask. But this was just the flu. No big deal.” Discounting his sleepless nights, his foggy, bumbling days. “Anyway, I don’t think we’ll go out tonight. But Sunday everything should be back to normal.” СКАЧАТЬ