Silhouette Christmas Stories

felt before. Not with poor Jeffrey, not with the few innocuous dates she had allowed herself since he had left.

No, she wasn't happy with Slade Ryan. He could sell his house; he could move anywhere in the world. But she had a daughter to raise, one who was becoming far too attached to him. One who would be brokenhearted if he left. When he left. One who, since she had only one parent, needed an extra dose of stability in her life.

'Hi.'

Carroll jumped. 'You ought to borrow Kris's horn and announce yourself,' she said crossly.

Slade leaned comfortably against the counter. 'What are you going to do with them?' He nodded at the dozen tortes, wrapped and lined up on the table.

'Take them down to Lindy's boutique. She has a standing order for them.'

'She must be ecstatic when Noel hits a real snag.'

'Umm,' She disappeared into the pantry and came out dragging a large cardboard box. 'But she does her best to conceal it.'

'Here, let me help.' Slade swung the box up on the table.

'I'll pack,' Carroll said, sliding in several tortes and adjusting some heavy cardboard shelving above them. 'You can haul the box out to the station wagon.'

'Grab a coat,' he suggested a few minutes later, hefting the box. 'It's getting cold.'

Carroll buttoned her jacket as she walked down the steps behind Slade. He handled the large carton as if it were no larger than a shoebox, she noted enviously. When he slid in on the passenger side, her brows rose. A man who didn't mind being driven by a woman. Nice.

She settled behind the wheel, squinting up at the leaden sky. 'Do you think it's just possible that Kris might be right? Could we really get snow?'

Slade groaned. 'Don't even think it. He'd be impossible to live with. He's already bad enough.'

Sliding a quick glance in his direction, she asked, 'What's he up to now?'

'Aside from wanting me to wear an elf costume and help deliver presents?'

She chuckled. 'You can wiggle out of that one. Christy and I are already signed up as Santa's helpers. We can get the job done.'

Suddenly the idea didn't sound so bad. They could probably use some help with the heavy packages, he mused. He wondered idly what an elf costume looked like.

'We came at a good time,' she told him. 'The traffic doesn't get bad until the lights go on.'

The lights. Always the lights. Slade leaned back in the seat, taking note of all the lights that weren't connected to someone's house. They were on more trees than he could count, running up and down streetlights, wrapped around trash cans and along the backs of park benches. Probably the only reason they weren't strung around mailboxes was due to a federal ordinance prohibiting such shenanigans.

'Here we are, and there's a parking place right in front,' Carroll announced with satisfaction. 'You get the box and I'll open the door.'

Lindy, a slim woman with graying hair and a broad smile, beat her to the door. 'Hi. Come in. You're an answer to my prayers.' She stepped aside to let Slade in and waved him to the counter. 'Thank God it's a big box. However many you have, I can use even more. Believe it or not, I've got a waiting list for these babies.'

Carroll closed the door, stepping past a rocking horse, several homemade dolls and a baby carriage. Two of Noel's landscapes hung on the opposite wall, both marked with Sold signs. Lindy not only carried exquisite gifts, she was an outlet for the local artists and craftsmen. 'At least your customers aren't standing outside pounding on the window. You've got them well trained.'

Lindy opened the box with eager hands. Looking up at Carroll, she laughed softly. 'I can't afford to lose any customers, and I was afraid that if they hung around here, Kris would have lights strung on them. I told them I'd call when I had the cakes in my hot little hands.'

She turned to Slade and measured him with a frankly assessing gaze. Giving an approving nod, she held out her hand for a businesslike shake. 'I'm Lindy Miller. No, you don't have to tell me who you are. Slade Ryan, right? You're helping Kris with the lights. He tells us you're going to get the lights turned on for Christmas Eve. We've been waiting for this for years.' She took the rest of the cakes from the box and turned to Carroll. 'I understand the chamber of commerce is trying to get some local TV coverage for the big event.'

'TV?' Carroll asked faintly, turning to Slade. He looked as stunned as she sounded.

'Are you sure about that?' he asked.

Lindy's nod was definite. 'Tom, my husband, is the treasurer. He told me that Kris came to their meeting last Tuesday and said everything was arranged. The play will end at five, we'll all go outside in the park, the lights will go on, and all the animated scenes will start up.'

She gave them a droll look. 'Kris has ordered snow, so it will be snowing. He'll come out with Anderson's hay wagon decorated like a sleigh-pulled by Blitzen and Rudolph, of course-and hand out the presents. That's the part they thought a news program might be interested in.'

She paused to count the cakes and write a receipt for Carroll. 'By the way, the chamber invited all the marines who helped with the lights up for the festivities. Those who can't get home are coming. Yesterday Tom and I spent some of the chamber's money and bought gifts for them. Naturally they're all invited to the pot-luck supper.'

'Naturally,' Carroll echoed, darting a glance at Slade's expressionless face.

'We'll get all their names to you before Christmas Eve,' Lindy added.

'Fine.'

The heavy silence in the car was finally broken by Slade, just as they pulled into the driveway. 'TV? Did you know about this?'

Carroll slammed on the brakes and snapped off the ignition. 'No, I didn't.' Turning to him furiously, she said, 'Do you really think I'd let you walk into a situation like that without any warning? What kind of a person do you think I am?'

'Loyal. To your family.'

'You're right,' she admitted, curling her fingers around the steering wheel. 'I am. But I also have a sense of fair play. I would have told you.'

'Sorry.' He reached across and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. 'I should have known.'

In silence she turned her palm up, lacing her fingers through his. 'What are you going to do?' she finally asked.

In a voice heavy with defeat, he said, 'I don't know. I haven't been able to convince Kris that he's asking the impossible any more than I've been able to convince you that I won't desert you the first time you turn your back.'

Chapter Seven

I won't desert you.

It was a little after three in the morning when Carroll admitted the obvious: sleep was a lost cause. She tossed back the blankets, shrugged into a warm robe and quietly went down to the kitchen. A few minutes later she carried a cup of tea into the dark living room, curled up in the corner of the sofa and covered herself with a woolly afghan. From where she sat, she could see light streaming out of Slade's office windows.

I won't desert you.

He was still working. An anxious frown drew her brows together. He didn't take care of himself, she fretted. Guilt etched the furrows even deeper between her brows. If it weren't for Kris and the two lost hours each day, Slade probably wouldn't still be at the computer. But for all she knew, Carroll thought hopefully, he was a workaholic who simply preferred toiling twenty hours out of every twenty-four.

Gloom settled again. More than likely he had to be there. When he had moved to Pinetree, Slade had undoubtedly expected to be isolated, to produce quantities of work. A mountain cabin had probably seemed an ideal location. Then Kris had appeared and blown not just holes, but craters, in his schedule.

I won't desert you.