A Texas Christmas Reunion Read online

  A movement on the boardwalk caught Juliette’s eye. She lifted her hand against the glare, glanced out the window to see Nannie hurrying past with several copies of the Gazette tucked under both arms.

  “Oh, my, yes. This will be lovely.”

  Juliette paid for the gown and asked to have it delivered to the hotel.

  She was far too anxious to see the advertisement in the Gazette to wait for the gown to be folded and boxed.

  Pushing the buggy toward the café, her heart thudded against her corset. In moments, everyone would know about the grand Christmas fete!

  She only hoped Nannie had done as good a job as she had promised in promoting it.

  By the time Juliette maneuvered the buggy over the icy boardwalk and through the front door of the café, some of the customers would already have seen her invitation. No doubt they would greet her with smiles of anticipation.

  “I don’t know what things are coming to.” Levi Silver shook his head, a severe frown dipping his gray brows. “I remember when this used to be a safe place to live.”

  Three other customers sat at tables, each of them with their attention riveted on the Gazette that Nannie held up.

  “With an entire shed burned this time, I think we have good reason to be afraid,” Nannie declared...the tic of her narrow smile indicating that she was more intrigued than frightened. “Poor old Mr. Cleary was distraught when he reported the news to me.”

  “First the theft of the kerosene, then the trash on fire behind The Saucy Goose and now the shed!” Sarah Wilcox glanced from person to person, holding each gaze. “There’s villainy afoot, I tell you. I’m quit of this town.”

  Lena blinked, suddenly awake. Juliette lifted her from the buggy so that she would not bother Joe, who was still sleeping in spite of teething pain.

  She picked up a copy of the Gazette and sat at a table.

  No doubt, when everyone’s nerves settled, they would turn past the first page of the paper, give their attention to something far more pleasant than the imminent ruin of the town due to a burned shed.

  Juliette opened the paper. She had hoped her advertisement would appear here, since the paper only had four pages.

  A last-page announcement is not what she had paid for. Hopefully folks would see it—

  It was not on the second or third, or fourth page. Juliette checked again.

  It wasn’t there. She flushed hot and cold all at once...felt irate and distressed in equal measure.

  “Nannie?”

  Her friend—of sorts—turned about, the paper gripped tight in her fists and her blue eyes glowing. “I know, it’s perfectly horrid. Believe me, as soon as we discover who committed this crime it will be front-page headlines! We may even print a special edition.”

  “Where is my advertisement, Nannie?” She strove to keep her voice as calm as possible, so as not to alarm her small daughter, who smiled up at her, unaware of her mother’s stress.

  If folks were uninformed about her event, they would not attend. If they did not attend, how would they be convinced that a new day was coming for Beaumont Spur?

  They would not! Folks would continue with their plans to leave town, not aware that a brighter day was coming.

  “Your advertisement?” Nannie turned the pages, quickly scanning her narrow gaze over them. “It isn’t here. In all the excitement of real news, I must have forgotten to give it to Father.”

  “But I was counting on having it in today’s paper.”

  “I’ll be sure and tell Papa first thing when I get back to the office. We’ll run the ad next time.”

  “That will be too late.”

  “Everyone!” Nannie raised her voice. “Juliette is having a party at the hotel on Christmas Eve. You are all invited.”

  Juliette pressed her lips together to keep an uncharitable string of words inside her mouth.

  “There,” Nannie declared. “The news will spread in no time.”

  Chapter Eleven

  This afternoon Juliette had expected to be sewing curtains for the lobby windows...they would match the ones she had already stitched for the guest room windows.

  Anyone approaching the hotel would feel instantly welcomed by the charm of them. Pretty curtains, she had noticed, always made a person feel comfortable and at home.

  But she was not sewing curtains, she was stewing. And not something delicious on the new stove in the hotel kitchen.

  She felt a jumbled mess inside. Hugging her arms about her ribs, she huddled into her cloak and walked toward the schoolhouse.

  She had spoken to the babies for an hour about her frustrating predicament, even tried to find a bit of solace by telling Father Lindor about the problem.

  Naturally, he’d pointed out that if she stayed home and cared for her family like a proper woman ought to, she would have no reason to be stressed.

  In the end, she’d taken him, along with Lena and Joe, to the café.

  She’d settled him into his familiar chair and set his lunch tray on his lap before she bent down to kiss his cheek. The man probably could not help saying the things he did, given that his world was not at all what it used to be and that he did not understand why.

  It occurred to her that when he wanted her to stay home, in fact, he was longing for the days when she did do that. When she and Lillian had a meal waiting for their husbands at the end of the day and laughter reigned at the dinner table.

  This was a far different time.

  But even though it was, she still had someone to turn to. An old friend who, over the course of a few weeks, had become a new one...a dearer one.

  Trea would understand her anxiety. Especially since their events were closely linked.

  Coming up the schoolhouse steps, she was glad to find the children at lunch. Because of the cold, Trea kept them inside.

  She did not remember school being such a cheerful place. Peering through the window, she saw students playing games and laughing.

  She had no idea why she should be proud of Trea’s success. She hadn’t had a thing to do with it. He’d made the best of his past all on his own.

  Truly, she respected him more than anyone she had ever known.

  Seeing her, he stood up from his desk, crossed the room and opened the door.

  “Don’t stand out in the cold, Mrs. Lindor,” he said. “Please come inside where it’s warm.”

  He picked up a chair from the back of the room and carried it to his desk.

  The noise level in the room died, then picked up again once the novelty of having an unexpected visitor had passed.

  Trea set the chair beside his desk and motioned for her to sit down.

  “You look upset. Are the children well?”

  “Well enough, considering the fact that their mother spent her God-sent fortune on a hotel that will fail and she now does not have the money to move anywhere else, so they will be forced to grow up in this sordid town.”

  “Sounds dire.”

  Was he suppressing a smile at her breathless rant? Yes...she believed he was.

  “Nannie did not print my advertisement.”

  “Why not?”

  “Mr. Cleary’s shed burned down. In all the excitement of having something dramatic on the front page, she forgot to give the information to her father... Oh, I reckon she remembered to give him my money, though.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Lindor.” Trea’s gaze shot to Charlie, then quickly away. He lowered his voice when a student passed by close enough to hear their conversation. “We will think of something. Christmas is only around the corner, but it’s going to work out.”

  Clearly this was not the time or place to throw herself into his arms and weep away her frustration. Truly, that was not what she intended by coming here, only what she felt like doing in the moment.

  Somehow, se
eing the reassurance in his warm brown eyes, knowing that she was not as alone in the world as she sometimes felt...well, she did want to weep.

  “I’ll be on my way,” she said, instead. “You have a class to teach and I have curtains to sew.”

  “Try not to worry.” He walked with her toward the door. “We’ll talk tonight.”

  On the way back to the café she did feel more optimistic. She was even deciding where to sew the red silk berries to her new dress when she passed by Sheriff Hank in deep conversation with Herbert Cleary.

  Perhaps Herbert had seen the person who burned his shed.

  Trea feared it was Charlie. The concern she saw shadowing his eyes when he looked at the boy was evident.

  She hoped...prayed...that Charlie was not the culprit.

  * * *

  Trea rose earlier than he normally did. He gathered the artwork that his students had created yesterday afternoon then tucked the pages under his arm. Swiping up a handful of small nails along with a hammer, he stuffed them into his coat pocket.

  Down in the lobby, everything was still quiet. He hoped that Juliette was sleeping.

  He’d promised to sit up with her last night, to help figure a way past the failed advertisement, but by the time he had come back to the hotel she’d already closed the door to her private quarters.

  It was for the best. In his opinion, which did not influence anything since he was not her husband, she was working too late and too hard.

  As she had pointed out the other night, she was unmarried and therefore free to do what she pleased.

  By that logic, so was he.

  It was why he had gotten home late last night. It was also what brought him out early this morning.

  Something needed to be done to make up for the missing advertisement.

  While he figured he could count on the parents of his students to attend the pageant and the opening of the hotel, everyone in town needed to turn out.

  If his idea played out the way he envisioned it, folks would come from beyond Beaumont Spur for the opening.

  This town needed the revival that Juliette was striving for. The odd thing was, his unwitting father had played a part in what, Trea hoped, would turn out to be a successful event.

  If The Fickle Dog could draw folks from out of town by running an ad in Smith’s Ridge Herald, so could the hotel.

  Folks did like to say Like father, like son.

  Closing the door with a quiet click, he stepped into the brisk morning. The sun was coming up and he couldn’t recall ever seeing a prettier dawn.

  Sunshine pierced a bank of clouds on the horizon, shooting rays of light onto the snow and making it glitter like a scene in a snow globe.

  This was a perfect morning for success.

  Things did not always work out just how one planned, but if this did, it would be a very good day.

  Better than yesterday.

  A day ago, it had cut him deeply to see Juliette so worried. It’s not what he was used to. Juliette was the most confident person he’d ever met, facing whatever life dumped on her with a smile and a wink.

  Had it been appropriate, he would have taken her in his arms when she’d come to him, soothed her by folding her to him, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead...or lower.

  But given that she had come to him at the schoolhouse, he could not.

  Mrs. Lindor had come on school business, having to do with the pageant.

  It’s what the students thought, and to an extent that was true. The pageant and the grand opening were all but one and the same event.

  The students would not know that there was so much more to the visit than that. They would not understand that Juliette had come to him, sharing her predicament.

  She couldn’t know how deeply that simple act of trust in his friendship had touched him.

  Trea pivoted right, took the few steps to the front door of the saloon.

  He tacked the painting of a Christmas tree that young Maxwell Finch had painted to the wall.

  Writing the actual invitation on each painting was what had kept him at the schoolhouse so late.

  Next he went to The Saucy Goose, tacked a likeness of Santa beside the window.

  When he was putting up a painting of Christmas bells on the wall of The Suzie Gal, the owner stepped out of her front door. When he told her what he was doing, she offered to take four of the advertisements and give them to other business owners.

  He had only three left when he heard footsteps tapping the boardwalk with a quick rhythm.

  “Trea Culverson!”

  Halfway into a swing he lowered the hammer, slowly pivoted toward the voice.

  “Hello.”

  Nannie Breene looked flushed, her nose red tipped from the cold air.

  “What are you doing out and about so early?” he asked.

  “Looking for you. I just came from the hotel but couldn’t tell which room was yours. I opened half a dozen doors before I gave up looking.”

  It seemed to Trea that tapping discreetly on the doors would have been more appropriate than opening them.

  “Visiting me at the hotel is not acceptable, Miss Breene.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Her eyelids closed halfway, her gaze from under them could only be called sly. His use of her formal name had not put her off in the slightest. “It’s only me—you and I are—”

  “In the future, if you wish to speak with me, send word and we can meet at the café.”

  Her brows furrowed, her blond frown severe.

  “I’m sure you encounter Juliette at the hotel. Is that acceptable?”

  “It is.” Nannie would like nothing more than to gossip about him and Juliette, and it turned his stomach sour. “Mrs. Lindor and I have a business arrangement. There is nothing inappropriate in my encountering her from time to time.”

  Nannie’s expression brightened as quickly as the flick of a dog’s tail.

  “Oh! I didn’t think.” She stepped too close to him. He backed up. “Yes, of course, since our relationship is more intimate than business, yes, it would not be appropriate for me to come to your hotel room during daylight hours.”

  “Not during any hours.”

  “Oh, surely once you announce your intentions to court—”

  “Why was it you were looking for me?”

  “Since you are too respectable now to meet me at the hotel, let’s go the café. We can have a nice long chat over coffee.”

  “I’ve got to get to the telegraph office before school starts. You can walk along with me if you like.”

  Hell’s business. Why did she have to slip her hand into the crook of his elbow, lean close in a way that implied familiarity?

  “Well, you know I don’t like to tell idle tales.”

  It was true, she didn’t like it—she lived for it.

  “But I overheard the sheriff and Mr. Cleary speaking. I thought you ought to know that Mr. Cleary saw you near his property shortly before his shed burned.”

  Trea stopped midstep, stared down at her.

  “Did he see anyone else?”

  “He didn’t mention anyone.”

  Trea started walking again. His heart settled back to its normal rhythm. Relief flooded him. Rumors about him bounced around town like a rubber ball in the wind. He could handle that.

  What he could not abide were wagging tongues talking about Charlie.

  “Trea, surely this trip to the telegraph office can wait until later. We’ve barely exchanged a word since you came back to town.”

  Oh, how true. And that was how he intended to keep the situation. The problem was, Nannie apparently wanted them to be seen together, arm in arm.

  It took some effort, but he managed to dislodge her grip on his elbow.

  “This has to do with the school pageant and t
he grand opening of the hotel. Since the advertisement that Juliette placed was not posted as it should have been, we’ve got to find another way to promote the event.”

  “I did scold Papa for that.” Nannie shrugged one shoulder, dismissing the error as trivial. “Those quaint little drawings ought to do as well.”

  “Good day, Miss Breene.” There was nothing else he had to say to her that would be polite.

  Tipping his hat, he hurried along, listening for the sound of her footsteps following. Thankfully, the only noise was the fall of his boots on the boardwalk, that and the rat-tat-tat of a woodpecker pecking the trunk of a nearby tree.

  * * *

  Juliette tacked a garland over the frame of the front door. Stooping down, she picked up another off the floor and draped it over a painting, her attention only halfway on her task.

  There had been an unannounced visitor to the hotel early this morning.

  The footsteps had not belonged to Trea. She knew the sound his boots made crossing the floor, the rhythm of his pace. She’d heard him go out earlier this morning.

  Believing she was alone, it had been startling hearing doors opening and closing overhead while she dressed Lena.

  She’d settled the baby in a safe spot then hurried into the lobby with a broom gripped in her fist just in time to see Nannie’s ruffled skirt in a swish, going out the front door.

  Why in blazes had the woman been skulking around up there opening doors? And how long had she been up there?

  It didn’t take too much guessing to know the reason. Nannie was drawn to Trea like a bee to spring nectar.

  Wondering—stewing over, to be honest—how long she had been up there had Juliette’s stomach twisted in a knot.

  Trea was a changed man, no longer the boy seeking affection wherever he could find it—wasn’t he?

  She would have bet her heart on it—had, in fact.

  Still, jealousy—and she knew what that sickening emotion felt like from long ago—snaked about her heart and squeezed. She fought the tear that leaked out of her eye, fought it valiantly.

  She was in the process of wiping it on her sleeve when the front door burst open and Trea swept in with a great grin on his face.