Lock, Stock & Jingle Bells Page 8

  She looked up from the journal she’d been carefully closing, and everything inside her growled. Oh yeah. She was hungry all right. Starved, in fact.

  She’d thought it might be awkward, or that she, at least, would probably be awkward, seeing him again after what they’d been doing the last time he was up here. But he was all smiles and easy charm and hot, freshly prepared dinners, and it was like they did this all the time.

  If you stay here in Willow Creek…you could do this all the time.

  He pulled over a tassled, overstuffed ottoman with a very detailed Santa face embroidered on the top, then shifted her feet and sat down on the edge of the divan, next to her hip. “You know, there’s something weirdly disturbing about having Santa stare at you while you eat.” He put the boxes down on top of the oversized footstool, so all you could see was the velvety red hat and the snowy white beard.

  “Tell me about it,” Holly said, shuddering in memory of all the Santas who’d stared at her over the years, and not just at the dinner table. In some ways, it was amazing she hadn’t developed a clownlike phobia about the man. “You know the part that goes ‘he sees you when you’re sleeping’? Yeah, that gave me nightmares for years, because he did actually watch me sleep. Every night. All year long.”

  Sean laughed and she loved the natural, full sound of it, like a guy who did it often and openly. It made her feel all kind of warm and fuzzy inside. Which didn’t seem exactly right since she’d just Santa bashed, but she held on to the feeling anyway.

  “I do love Christmas, but you’re right, I can’t imagine what it was like, living in winter wonderland twenty-four-seven.”

  “We’re even,” she said as he opened a box and handed her a linen napkin rolled with real silver inside. “I only had to put up with a make-believe character. I can’t imagine living with the number of real people you reside with on a daily basis. At least my army was inanimate and perpetually jolly.”

  “Oh, I’d say the Gallaghers are a pretty perpetually jolly bunch.” He winked at her. “You know, you could actually cross the street and come inside where we could sit and eat at a real table.”

  She inhaled the scent of beef and potatoes like a woman starved and sighed in deep satisfaction. “If this tastes half as good as it smells, you could probably lure me over there just by dangling a bowl of stew under my nose.”

  He grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He popped open his own take-out box, then nodded at the book still tucked in her lap. “What’s that you’re reading?”

  She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. “I found this in the little rolltop desk there, in a secret compartment. I’d just unearthed the desk earlier today and discovered it wasn’t anywhere on the inventory list. I was hoping the book might explain where it came from and why it’s here.”

  “And did it?”

  “Well…not exactly. But it explains a lot of other things. And it involves both of our families.”

  He paused in midbite. “What?”

  “And the Hamilton family, as well.”

  “Hamilton family. As in Hamilton Industries, Hamilton?”

  Holly nodded.

  Lionel Hamilton, who was in his eighties now, about nine or ten years older than her parents, was the last in a long line of Hamiltons who had either owned or run most of neighboring Randolph County. Hamilton Industries, and the Hamilton family, were responsible for keeping pretty much everyone who lived there employed for at least the past century or so, and it was through their varied businesses that the otherwise rather rural county continued to prosper. And prosper well.

  “Anything juicy?” he teased.

  “Oh, you might say that.”

  Sean’s smile faded and he laid his fork down. “Really? Like what?”

  “Did you know that Trudy Hamilton used to live in this very house? Well, back when the bottom part was a rare and antique bookshop and these rooms up here belonged to Old Lady Haversham, she did.”

  “Lionel’s wife, Trudy? Didn’t she pass on some time ago?”

  Holly nodded. The Hamiltons were local royalty, like the Kennedys must have been to the folks of Hyannis Port and the rest of Cape Cod. The details of their very privileged lives had always been reported on in both local papers and the bigger circulations in D.C. and Richmond. “This was long before she became Mrs. Hamilton, though. Her maiden name was Haversham.”

  “She was related to Old Lady Haversham?”

  Holly nodded again. Neither she nor Sean had ever met the older woman, as she’d long since passed on before they were born, but stories of the eccentric old woman were a well-known part of the small town lore. The black sheep of the Havershams of Charlottesville and Raleigh, a very well respected and wealthy tobacco family back in the day, all deceased now. “Trudy’s fortune went to Lionel. She was the last of the family line.”

  “Right, there was talk about how it was actually the Haversham fortune that rescued Hamilton Industries from near bankruptcy way back when, right?”

  “Right. And I think Lionel is only survived by his great-nephew, who—”

  “Famously rejected the family fortune. Doesn’t he live somewhere down South?”

  “North Carolina, I think.”

  Sean picked up his silverware again. “So, what’s the juicy part?”

  “Well, Trudy and your grandmother were good friends. At least for the length of one spring and summer.”

  Sean’s eyes widened. “Really? How could that be?”

  “And they babysat my mother, on many occasions, that summer.”

  “How old were they?”

  “Trudy and your grandmother were probably only a few years apart at most, if that. They were teenagers, the summer I’m talking about. Fifteen and sixteen, respectively. So…about sixty-five years ago. My mom would have been around seven or eight.”

  “Interesting, for sure. I’ll have to ask my aunts if they’d ever heard any stories. I mean, having Trudy Hamilton here in our town…that would have been quite something.”

  “Well, she didn’t become Trudy Hamilton for another five years, but I guess even as a wealthy Haversham, it might have made a little noise. Certainly, later on, after she married Lionel, I would have imagined there would have been ‘Trudy slept here’ kind of stories, but…who knows. Maybe it was just a lost summer. I know her family, and probably Trudy herself would have most certainly been hoping it was.”

  Sean looked confused. “Why?”

  “She came here on a ‘vacation,’” Holly said, using air quotes. “The way young girls had to go away to visit relatives for a time often did. Back in those days, anyway.”

  Sean took a moment, then the confusion cleared and his eyebrows rose. “She was pregnant?”

  Holly nodded and lifted the volume. “This was her diary or journal, while she was staying here. Right in this room, I’m guessing. I think they sent her here because, at least according to this, Old Lady Haversham was more than a little eccentric. She was a bit loony, or at least her extended family certainly thought so. She was definitely on the outs with them, never talked to anyone, spent all her time holed up here in the bookshop. Anyway, back then, Willow Creek was even more of a small, rural town than it is now, and so the Havershams tucked Trudy away here to have her child, then she’d come back and no one would be the wiser.”

  “Wow, but I didn’t think she had any children, ever.”

  “Well, she didn’t. At least, not that anyone knew about. And, it gets more interesting. Your grandmother was the one who helped her get rid of the baby.”

  Sean looked momentarily horrified. “Get rid of, you mean she—”

  “No, no, I don’t mean before, I mean after the baby was born. Your family has been part of St. Francis’s congregation forever, right?”

  “Right, so what are you saying?”

  “According to Trudy, your grandmother was with her when she gave birth. It sounds like it might have been here in the house. Anyway, I’m not sure what the plan was after the baby wa
s born. According to Trudy, her aunt wasn’t exactly on top of things.”

  “Did she even know Trudy was pregnant?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know that she really paid much attention to her. Trudy lived up here and didn’t even help in the shop much. That was why she was excited to go hang out with your grandmother when she would babysit. She’d sneak out in the evenings and go to whatever family your grandmother was sitting for, and hang out with her. One of those was my grandparents’ old house, sitting for my mother.”

  “So, after the baby was born…?”

  “Your grandmother took it to the church and left him with the nuns.”

  “It was a boy?”

  “Apparently. So, I’m guessing he was adopted, or put into foster care, or whatever the system was back then.”

  Sean sat back. “So…Trudy Haversham, who went on to become Trudy Hamilton, had a child. An heir. Both to her fortune…and, I guess Lionel’s…. Her child, if he’s still alive, wouldn’t he be the direct heir? I mean, he’s older than Lionel’s great-nephew, and though not direct blood of Lionel’s, he would be direct in line for the Haversham fortune, right? And, if he’s passed, then I’d guess that his offspring, if he had any, would be next in line. Pretty big bombshell, when you think about it.”

  Holly smiled briefly. “I know. Bombshell in a book. The question is, what do I do with it now?”

  10

  “All I know is that we don’t have to decide right this second. It’s been in there for decades, so another day or two won’t matter.” Sean took the book from her hands and carefully set it on top of the china cabinet. Then he took their empty dinner boxes and set them aside as well. Holly looked up at him questioningly when he put his hand out for her.

  “Go for a ride with me?”

  “What?”

  He smiled. “A ride. I thought we might take a little drive, look at the Christmas lights.” He took her hand and pulled her up so her body came up flush against his. “Now, don’t rush to say no. I’m well aware of your feelings on the holiday, but lights are just lights. They’re pretty to look at and they don’t stare at you while you sleep.”

  Her lips quirked. “I’m not that big a scrooge, you know. Actually, I kind of like the lights part of the holiday. It’s hard not to be cheery when you drive by a twinkling display.”

  “Great.” She started to say something, but he dipped his head and caught her mouth in a slow, sweet kiss. “I know you have a million things to do, but you’ve been holed up in this place for days now. An hour or two out won’t kill you and might help clear your head a little.”

  She held his gaze for a moment, then smiled. “Well, I’m not so sure about the cleared head part. Something about being in your proximity seems to muddle that up a little.”

  “In a good way?”

  “You were in the room earlier today, right?”

  He laughed. “Yes, I believe I was.”

  “Alrighty then.”

  He kissed her again and scooped her up against his chest and spun her around.

  She was laughing, too, when he put her down, but said, “What was that for?”

  “For making me feel like spinning around like a kid. Turns out it’s even more fun as an adult…when you’ve got another adult in your arms at the time.”

  “Imagine that,” she said, her brown eyes shining.

  That was what he wanted to see. And for a very long time. “Come on, let’s get your coat and get out of here.”

  He’d brought his truck over and parked it in front of her shop, which made her nudge him with her elbow when they stepped outside.

  “Pretty sure of yourself.”

  “Actually, I delegated closing to my cousin tonight, so I was done when I came over here. I knew if I had to go back through the restaurant later to get my truck I might get trapped, so I parked out here. And I didn’t want Mickey to feel like I was checking up on him.”

  “Very thoughtful of you.”

  He opened the passenger side door and helped her up into the seat, then leaned in after her. “Well, it wasn’t an entirely altruistic move.”

  “When did you come up with the Christmas lights tour idea?”

  “When I realized it was either get you off of that crushed velvet sex goddess sofa you have up there, or strip you naked and make love to you on what is probably a very uncomfortable piece of furniture.”

  To her credit, this time there was no blushing. Good. That meant she’d been thinking about him, about them…and was, perhaps, getting more comfortable with letting things continue to develop.

  “You’re right,” she said, then when he wiggled his eyebrows, she laughed and added, “that is the most uncomfortable piece of furniture ever made. At least for sleeping.”

  “Why are you sleeping on it, then? It’s also drafty in there, you can’t be comfortable. Why not stay in a motel or one of the inns.”

  Willow Creek was small, but there was a clean, neatly kept little motel on the edge of town, and several of the older homes had been turned into bed-and-breakfasts.

  “When I got here I really was feeling pretty overwhelmed, still am, to be honest, and I guess I just didn’t want to have to deal with people. It might not have been the best thing to do, to hole myself up in the shop like I did, but I really needed to sort through things, and to think, and it just seemed like the thing to do.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve come to your rescue, then.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning I have a very large house—” He broke off long enough to shake his head for her to not interrupt. “—with several bedrooms, all of which have beds and only mine is occupied. Even my couch is more comfortable than that slab you’ve been sleeping on.” He leaned down and kissed her, fast at first, then dipped in for another one, then another. “You can have pick of the house, Goldilocks. I’m the only bear in residence.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “I’m sure the next thing you’ll be telling me is you’re a teddy bear.”

  “Only if you believe that you’d sleep more soundly curled up with one.”

  She laughed outright at that. “Why don’t we get on with our tour of lights here, before people start unplugging them for the night.”

  “Okay, okay.” He ducked in for one last kiss, then pushed her hair back, touched her cheek, as he finally moved back. “You know, I think I had it all wrong anyway.”

  “Had what all wrong?”

  “About which one of us was doing the rescuing.” He didn’t let her question him on that, but closed the door after she’d situated herself in her seat, then scooted around to his side. He had no idea how he was going to handle knowing Holly was under his roof, in a bed other than his own, and not give in to temptation. Or at least tempting temptation. He glanced over at her and found her watching him, only mixed in with that always thoughtful, always intent look…was what looked like affection. The kind that just comes naturally when you look at someone you honestly care about.

  He was grinning as he turned on the engine. So, that would be his motivation. To do whatever it took to keep that look on her face. And not give her any reason to feel otherwise.

  He was still grinning over an hour later when they finally pulled into the driveway of his home. The drive had been both relaxing and informative. They hadn’t talked business, or about their burgeoning relationship. Instead he’d shared stories about his family, she’d asked about his culinary training and what most compelled him about cooking, he’d asked her about when she’d started painting, and the conversation simply continued on, flowing easily and naturally.

  “This is your place?”

  “Yep. Bought it a few years ago. Used to be—”

  “The McElroys’ place, right?”

  “Right. Old Mr. Eddie’s kids moved him to a senior home over near them in Charlottesville and put the house on the market. I like that it’s in the older part of town, not too far from the restaurant, but not right next door.” He flas
hed her a smile. “And not next door to any of my relatives, either.”

  “Most of them are over on the west side, right?”

  He nodded. “Newer homes, closer to the highway, and the stores and schools.” He turned off the engine. “It’s quieter here, an older, more sedate neighborhood, for sure, but with all the chaos of the restaurant, I like the peace, the retreat.”

  She was looking at the house. He was looking at her.

  “Did you ever think you’d want a family? I know you love yours, but, as you said, being surrounded by them all the time, night and day, seven days a week…and your parents only having you…”

  “Only because my mom couldn’t have more. She had some complications with me. She’d have had a dozen if she could have, and my dad would have loved it, too.” He laughed now, as he looked at the terror that crossed her face. “I don’t have any predetermined ideas on what kind of family I want. I guess I do know I want one, at least that’s how I see my life going. But…I’m not a big future planner in that regard. I’m happy with letting it take its own course.”

  She glanced at him, then smiled when he reached across and took her hand. “I think you’ve really done well for yourself, Sean. You’re happy, you love what you do, you have a nice home here…surrounded by family and friends. I think your folks would be so proud and happy.”

  “I’d like to think so.” He tugged her hand a little, and she slid across the seat to be closer to him. “You know, I meant what I said earlier.”

  “Which part?”

  “About just wanting you to be comfortable, to have a bed, get a good night’s sleep. I know how much stress you’re under, and that I’ve been a part of that, so consider it the least I can do.”

  She didn’t say anything right away. Instead she looked down at where their hands were still joined, then finally, back up at him. “Okay.”

  He smiled. It was a start. That’s all he wanted. Starting meant they were moving in some direction. Together.

  Then she smiled, and reached up and cupped his face in her palm, leaned forward until her mouth was a breath away from his, and said, “So…what would be the most that you could do?”