Silhouette Christmas Stories

sullen gray, also had nothing to do with anything.

Habit. That was all it was. She certainly wasn't camped here by the window to catch a glimpse of one of the world's most aggravating men. Anyway, he was probably already at work. That was where he spent most of his time-in front of his computer. Well, after last night's little trick, that was fine with her. He could sit there until he turned green from radiation.

She took another sip of tea, frowning. No, that wasn't fair. He didn't spend every waking hour at the computer-her daughter and her father had seen to that. Each of them had infringed on large chunks of his time. And, she admitted grudgingly, he had given them more than they had asked for. Especially Kris.

Her gaze sharpened, and she leaned closer to the window. Slade's pickup truck was gone. He kept his precious Mercedes in the garage, but his pickup was always in the carport. Except for now.

Telling herself that she wasn't a bit curious, that she was only going out to get the morning paper, she set aside her cup and went to the front door. Before she opened it, she saw the note.

It was taped to one of the small glass panes in the door. Black ink, written in an aggressive scrawl, her name on the front.

Carroll, I have to go to town. Be back as soon as possible. I love you. Don't worry.

Her heart gave a little leap, which she tried to ignore. Instead, she concentrated on the last two words. Worry? Why should she worry? Men always claimed the right to come and go. Mostly go. That was fine with her. If he came back, he came back. If he didn't, what else was new?

Eight days later, Christy poked her head through Carroll's office door. 'Mom?'

'Hmm?'

'Have you heard from Slade?'

Carroll shook her head. 'Not yet.'

'Where do you suppose he is?' Christy leaned against Carroll and gave a forlorn sigh.

'Honey, he has a job, remember? He'll be back.' Maybe.

'When?'

'I don't know.'

'The play's in six days.'

Carroll gave her a swift hug. 'He knows that.'

Four days later, Kris sat perched on the corner of her desk. 'What have you heard from Slade?'

'Nothing. Why?'

He gave an elaborate shrug. 'No reason.'

'Come on, Kris.'

He shrugged again. 'The day after tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and he's going to take care of the lights.'

Carroll's sigh was slightly ragged. 'I don't know what to say.'

Kris patted her shoulder and bounced to his feet. 'Too bad he missed the second batch, but he'll be back in plenty of time,' he assured her.

'Sure.' If we're lucky.

'Mom!' Christy bounced into the office, her face flushed with excitement. 'Look what they just brought from Patty's flower shop!' She held a white box in either hand. 'This one's yours.' Her blue eyes snapped with excitement. 'And this one's for me.'

Carroll held her box with fingers that shook. 'You first,' she said, smiling as Christy tore open the lid.

'Oh, look! Isn't it gorgeous?' She lifted a small-corsage with a crimson tulip decorated as a bell. 'There's a card, too.' She lifted a glowing face. 'It's from Slade, 'for the star of the show tomorrow night.''

Carroll opened her box and stared down at a delicate white orchid. The card said simply Save me a seat.

That was all it said, but it meant so much more. And she knew-no, she believed-that he meant every word.

She handed the box to Christy and said urgently, 'Honey, put these in the fridge. I have to run into town for a minute.'

Christy's eyes grew even brighter. 'For more presents?'

Carroll nodded, grinning. 'This one's for Slade.'

The morning of Christmas Eve, Carroll held her cup of tea and looked out at the empty carport. Robe-clad and yawning, Kris and Christy shuffled in, heading straight for the window. They both turned at the same time, alarm widening their eyes.

'He isn't here,' they said in unison.

This time there was no hesitation, no qualification.

'He will be,' she said in a serene voice.

Later that morning, Kris received a telephone call. It was a measure of his concern that he answered without complaint. Two minutes later he charged out of the house, calling that he would see them at the play.

Later still, when Carroll drove Christy into town and parked by the playhouse, they saw that the marines had landed. Mac, Red and the rest of them, under Kris's supervision, were doing something with the lights.

Carroll hugged Christy. 'Good luck, darling.'

'Mother! You're supposed to tell me to break a leg.'

'I'm afraid to.' She tapped the cast with a grin. 'You'll be wonderful.' She hurried away to join the audience.

The show was just beginning when Slade eased into the seat beside her and reached for her hand. She felt the tension emanating from him and asked, 'Is everything all right?'

'Keep your fingers crossed,' he whispered, then settled back with a satisfied grin. He did ask one question during intermission. 'What is Christy's legal name?'

A peculiar expression crossed Carroll's face. 'Why?'

'Just wondering. A point of reference, you might say.'

'She made me promise not to tell anyone.'

'I'll take a vow of silence if I have to. Just tell me.'

She swallowed. 'Christmas Stilwell.'

Slade's eyes closed briefly, and he muttered, 'I might have known.'

Thirty minutes later, with the sound of Christy's, 'God bless us, everyone!' still ringing in the room, Slade jumped to his feet and led the enthusiastic applause.

As the audience straggled outside, they went backstage to collect Christy. Beside herself with excitement, she hugged Slade and announced, 'I'm going to be an actress.'

'You already are.' He rumpled her hair. 'A good one, at that.' Glancing swiftly at his watch, he said, 'Come on, we've got to get outside.'

'Slade?' She looked at him anxiously. 'Are the lights going to go on for Kris?'

He squeezed her hand. 'I don't know,' he said honestly. 'But you know Kris. He believes in miracles. Anything can happen.'

'He believes in people,' Christy said firmly, clutching his hand.

When they joined the crowd outside, Carroll winced. 'Oh no. Look over there.'

Slade's gaze followed hers, settling on a man wielding a minicam and a woman with a microphone talking to Tom Miller. 'So they got their TV coverage. Let's hope it's worth their trip up here.' He swung Christy up in his arms so she could get a better view.

The crowd looked at the digital clock on the bank across the street and began a soft countdown. 'Ten, nine, eight… '

'Slade,' Carroll began, then stopped when he draped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer. 'Thank you for the flowers.'

'Five, four, three… '