Mistletoe and Holly, page 11
With the power restored, it didn’t take long for the central furnace to rid the house of its chill. Tagg made coffee, but Holly insisted they use the fire to toast their bread instead of the electric toaster. By the time they finished breakfast and a second cup of coffee, it was warm enough in the house for Tagg to take down the blanket across the living room opening.
“Let’s get these blankets folded up, Holly,” Leslie suggested and reached for the top one.
“We can do it later,” Holly protested.
“I have to go home later,” she reminded her, “and make sure everything is all right at Aunt Patsy’s house.”
“You’d better let me shovel a path over there first,” Tagg said. “There’s no sense trying to wade through all that snow on those crutches.”
While he went outside to clear the walks, Leslie enlisted Holly’s aid to pick up the front room and wash their breakfast dishes. When the housework was done, she checked his progress. There was a pathway through the snow nearly to her aunt’s side door.
Anxious to make certain the blackout had not created any broken water pipes at her aunt’s house, Leslie donned her heavy coat and wool scarf. Holly bundled up, too, to join her.
“Careful. It’s slick!” Tagg called the warning to them when they emerged from the house.
As Leslie reached the edge of the driveway, she heard a car slowing down to turn in. It was her aunt returning home. She waited until the car was driven past her to the rear garage before she crossed to the side door. Tagg leaned on the snow shovel, his tanned complexion turned ruddy by the invigorating cold.
Holly went galloping through the snow to greet Patsy Evans as she waded toward the door. “We don’t have any school today because of the snow,” Holly informed her. “Did the electricity go out where you were? Ours was out all night.”
“It was out at my friend’s house, too,” she replied.
“I came over last night and turned on the water in your sinks so the pipes wouldn’t freeze,” Tagg informed her. “Leslie spent the night at our place.”
“That’s a relief,” her aunt stated. “I was concerned about her being in the house alone with no heat.”
“We slept on the floor in front of the fireplace last night,” Holly explained eagerly. “We had to huddle together under the blankets to keep warm. It was fun.”
“I’m sure it was,” Patsy agreed dryly.
“Did you have any trouble getting home this morning?” Leslie asked.
“It was a bit tricky getting out of Maude’s driveway, but she lives on the main road so it had already been plowed. I had no trouble at all once I was on the road,” she insisted. “But it certainly was nasty last night.”
“Daddy—” Holly looked suddenly anxious, “will they cancel our Christmas program at church Sunday night because of this snow?”
“It won’t be cancelled,” Tagg assured her. “Not unless it snows again.”
“Oh, good,” Holly declared with very definite relief, and glanced up at the white-haired woman bundled up like an Eskimo in her fur-lined parka. “Are you coming to see our Christmas program?”
A pleased look brightened her expression, despite the chilling cold. “How nice of you to ask, Holly. I think Leslie and I would enjoy coming to watch your play.” She glanced at her niece for confirmation.
“Aren’t you coming?” Holly looked at her as if it had been a foregone conclusion that she would attend.
“Sure, we’ll both come,” Leslie promised, knowing how important it had been when she was a child to have people she knew in the audience at school or social functions.
“There’s no need to take two cars,” Tagg inserted. “All of us can go in our station wagon.”
“That’s very sensible,” Patsy Evans agreed with his proposal. “What time shall we be ready?”
“The program starts at six-thirty, but Holly needs to be at the church early so why don’t we leave at six?” Tagg suggested.
“We’ll come over before six,” she nodded her approval then glanced at Leslie with a no-nonsense briskness. “I don’t know why we’re standing out here in the cold when we can be inside. Thank you for looking after things, Taggart.”
“It was nothing.” He shrugged away her thanks and stepped to the side so they could get to the door. “Come on, Holly. Go get your shovel so we can get these walks cleared.”
A check of the house showed a night of below-freezing temperatures had not resulted in any damage. Yet Leslie knew that events during the storm had resulted in changes within herself. As much as she was physically and emotionally attracted to Tagg, the feelings were also plagued by a vague apprehension. In the beginning it had been all right to take things as they came, but it was time she gave some serious thought about where their relationship was leading while there was still time to change its direction.
On Sunday evening, Leslie sat in the church pew between Tagg and her aunt, watching the Christmas story being acted out by the church’s Sunday School class. Her view of Holly in a white and woolly sheep’s costume was blocked by the people in front of her. When the angel appeared, Leslie remembered Holly mentioning the classmate who had gotten the part. It was obviously a case of type-casting since Sally Tuttle was an angelic-looking child with curly blond locks.
Tagg tilted his head slightly to murmur, “Holly could never look that innocent.” It was an obvious reference to the girl playing the angel.
Leslie smiled briefly in acknowledgment, letting her hazel glance touch his profile. In a dark suit and tie, Tagg made a striking impression with his jet black hair, dark complexion and ice blue eyes. There was an air of maturity about him, travel and experience adding character to his handsomely chiseled features.
He had everything a girl could hope to find in a man—looks, personality, and sufficient wealth to be reasonably independent. Yet Leslie couldn’t shake a sense of caution. She continued to hold back from any kind of commitment without being sure why she was. Some strong, protective instinct seemed to prevent it.
A choir of older members of the church class began singing Christmas hymns to bring the program to a close. The minister concluded with a brief prayer and an invitation for the parents and friends to partake of refreshments being served downstairs.
Still costumed, Holly met up with them in the church’s small, outer lobby. “Can we stay?” she asked, wisps of black hair sticking out from her curly white hood with its floppy sheep ears. “They’ve got Christmas cookies and everything downstairs.”
“Would you like to go down?” Tagg left the choice to Leslie and her aunt.
“Who can say no to Christmas cookies?” Patsy Evans asked and provided an affirmative answer with the question.
The refreshments were served in a small meeting room that quickly became crowded with children and adults. There was an empty space along the wall near the door where there was less chance of her crutches accidentally tripping someone. Leslie and her aunt waited there while Tagg and Holly brought them coffee and cookies.
As soon as Holly had eaten her cookies, she was lured away by some playmates. An acquaintance of Patsy Evans had drawn her off to one side to converse about a mutual friend, leaving Leslie and Tagg more or less standing alone.
The minister noticed them and came over. “Mr. Williams, I just wanted to tell you that I thought your daughter did a commendable job tonight. As a matter of fact, I don’t have a ‘baaaad’ thing to say about it.”
Leslie winced inwardly at the awful pun, but managed a smile.
“Thank you, Reverend August.” Tagg pretended to smile, too. “I know Holly enjoyed it.”
“Children are natural performers.” The minister nodded and glanced curiously at Leslie. “Is this your wife? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her.”
“Unfortunately she isn’t my wife,” Tagg corrected that impression. “This is Leslie Stiles.”
“Of course.” Her name produced instant recognition. “You are Mrs. Evans’s niece, aren’t you?”
“That’s right.” She nodded.
“I hope you’ll forgive the mistake,” the minister requested apologetically to both of them. “But when I saw the two of you standing together, it slipped my mind that you were a widower, Mr. Williams.”
“No harm done,” Tagg assured him.
Someone accidentally backed into her crutch, jostling Leslie’s arm, and sloshing drops of coffee onto her white silk blouse. “Darn.” She breathed out the mild imprecation when she saw the stains. “Here.” She handed her cup to Tagg. “Hold this, will you?”
“Did you spill it on yourself?” he asked.
“Just a few drops,” she admitted. “I should be able to sponge them out with some cold water. Excuse me, Reverend.”
“Of course.”
After she’d worked her way out of the room, she went down the corridor to the ladies room. She managed to get the coffee stains out, leaving only a damp spot on her blouse which wasn’t too noticeable.
As she emerged from the ladies room, she heard Holly’s voice. She was playing in the corridor with the Christmas angel, Sally Tuttle. Neither child noticed Leslie coming up behind them.
“Who’s that lady with your dad, Holly?” asked the white-gowned girl with aluminum wings and halo.
“My mother,” Holly replied with smooth nonchalance, and Leslie went white.
“You told me you didn’t have a mother,” Sally accused. “You said she died.”
“She did, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have another one,” Holly insisted.
“Then how come this is the first time I’ve ever seen her?” the girl challenged.
“Did you see her crutches? She has a broken leg and she’s been in the hospital. That’s why she hasn’t been here before, so there!” Holly stuck out her tongue at her doubting friend.
“Holly!” Leslie spoke out sharply, realizing she should have stopped this before. She spun guiltily around and stared horror-struck at Leslie. “How can you say such a thing?” Leslie asked.
Something crumbled in her face. With a lowering chin, she turned back to the blond-haired Sally. “I made that all up. She isn’t really my mother,” Holly confessed stiffly. “But she could be.” The last was issued in a kind of desperation.
“I knew she wasn’t,” Sally declared with a degree of smugness and went flouncing down the corridor.
Holly turned her round blue eyes at Leslie. “Are you mad ‘cause I said that?”
“No, but you shouldn’t say things that aren’t true,” Leslie said firmly. “Your friend would have found out sooner or later.”
“I guess.” She hung her head, scuffing the white toe of her shoe on the floor. “I’m sorry, Leslie.”
“We’ll forget about it this time.” She was troubled by Holly’s pretence. “But please, don’t do it again.”
“I won’t,” Holly promised with some reluctance.
“Let’s go find your father and Aunt Patsy,” Leslie suggested. “I think it’s time we went home.”
During the drive home, Holly was more subdued than usual although she did talk to Patsy Evans about the Christmas program and some of her new friends. Leslie hardly said anything at all.
The incident had merely added to her own inner doubts. In the past, Holly had always seemed so happy and content with her father that Leslie hadn’t suspected the girl yearned for a woman’s presence in her life. So much of the time she had spent in Tagg’s company had included Holly. Now, anything that happened between them affected the child.
Leslie knew all about innocent victims. She had stood helplessly by while her parents had argued themselves into a divorce court, caught in the middle of a conflict that she didn’t understand. She didn’t want that to happen to Holly. She didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her if she decided to stop seeing Tagg. And it was obviously nearing the point where Holly was becoming too attached to her.
When Tagg braked the car to a stop in the driveway, he asked, “Would you like to come inside for some hot chocolate?”
“Not me, thanks,” her aunt refused. “It’s time I was getting my beauty sleep.”
“Leslie?” Tagg arched a brow at her.
She paused in the act of opening the car door. “No, I’ll pass too. Thanks.” Her aunt was already out of the car, but Leslie didn’t wait for assistance from her or Tagg as she maneuvered out the side door on her own. She started down the sidewalk, following her aunt. Behind her, a car door was pushed shut as Tagg climbed out.
“Go into the house and get changed out of your costume,” he told Holly, then called, “Leslie! Wait a minute.”
She hesitated, then stopped to let him catch up with her, turning with a faint toss of her head. When he reached her side, his hands moved automatically onto her shoulders in a gesture that was possessive in its familiarity.
“Is something wrong?” He tipped his head to the side, his gaze probing.
“No. I’ve just got a headache.” She took refuge in an old lie.
His gaze skimmed her, seeming to sense the falsehood, but he didn’t press the issue. “Another time, then,” he said.
“Yes.” She accepted the ambiguous suggestion and smiled wanly. “Goodnight, Tagg.”
She turned out of his arms and continued on her way to the house, conscious that he watched her for several long minutes before the sound of his footsteps carried him toward his own home. When she entered the kitchen, she pushed the door shut with her shoulder and leaned briefly against it, a troubled sigh sliding out with a long breath.
“Did you two have a lover’s quarrel?” her aunt inquired bluntly, appearing without warning in the doorway.
“No.” Her denial was cool and even. “And we aren’t lovers.”
“At a guess I’d say it isn’t because Taggart isn’t willing, so you must be the one holding back.” Her aunt eyed her knowingly.
“I guess I’m not ready,” Leslie shrugged.
“My dear girl, no one is ever ready to fall in love,” her aunt informed her with a patient smile.
“I guess I’m not the exception,” she declared with a wry and laughing shrug. “How about some tea?”
During the first three days of the week, Leslie only saw Tagg and Holly from the window of her aunt’s house. She made no attempt to speak to them or make them aware of her presence. It wasn’t easy, not as easy as she thought it would be. Tension wound around her until she thought she was going to snap.
After a restless night’s sleep plagued by childhood nightmares, Leslie was late for breakfast. She swung into the kitchen on her crutches, an apology ready for oversleeping. It died on her lips when she saw Tagg sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.
“Good morning.” His gaze was warm and bright with pleasure.
There was a curious singing in her ears, her spirits suddenly lifting despite her attempt to keep them on an even keel. “Good morning.” She moved toward the table, glancing at her aunt. “Sorry I got up so late.”
“I was going to come in and wake you when I heard you moving around. You have an appointment with my doctor this morning,” Patsy reminded her.
“I’d forgotten.” It had been made so long ago that it had completely slipped her mind, or been crowded out by too many other things. “What time am I supposed to be there?”
“Not until eleven. Don’t worry. You have plenty of time,” she assured, then cast a short glance at Taggart Williams. “As a matter of fact, Taggart said he’d be happy to take you to the doctor’s office for your checkup. I think there’s something he wants to show you, too.”
“Something to show me?” Leslie repeated with a slight frown.
“That’s why I came over this morning. I was going to take you by so you could see what you thought about it.”
“You found a puppy for Holly,” Leslie guessed.
“I found a puppy for Holly, but that isn’t what I want you to see. Will you come?” Tagg asked. “It’s right on the way to the doctor’s.”
“I—” She wanted to go with him, so why deny it? “I’ll come.”
There was only time for a light breakfast of coffee and toast. She changed quickly to a better outfit, then left to accompany Tagg in his car. Even though curiosity was getting the better of her, she refused to ask where he was taking her or what he wanted her to see.
Tagg was equally uncommunicative, not giving her any hints or clues about their destination. When he reversed out of the driveway, he made the turn toward town.
CHAPTER
9
TAGG PARKED THE car in front of an empty building located around the corner from the town’s main street. She gave him a puzzled look.
“This is it?” she asked skeptically.
“Yup.” He nodded his head toward the empty building. “What do you think of it?”
“It’s a building. What am I supposed to think of it?”
His tongue clicked in mock reproval. “I should hope you would think something. You are looking at the future offices of Taggart J. Williams, Attorney-at-Law.” His smile came quick and disturbing. “Come on. I want to show you inside.”
Without giving her a chance to disagree, he climbed out of the car and walked around to help her over the snowdrift to the sidewalk. The lock stubbornly resisted his key and gave in after a few hard shakes of the doorknob.
A bare bulb hung from the ceiling of the small anteroom. There was no furniture or drapes to alleviate the bareness of the walls and windows. The building didn’t give the appearance of having been used in a long time.
“It needs painting and some minor renovations,” Tagg admitted as if reading her thoughts. “But I thought this could be used as the reception area. There’s three more rooms back here.”
Pausing to switch on the lights, he led the way through the inner door into a short hall with three doors branching off of it. He opened the one on his right and let Leslie enter another bare room.
“I thought this could be used for the secretary. There’s room for her desk and some filing cabinets,” he explained. “I’m going to have a carpenter cut an opening in the wall to connect this with the reception area so she can see whoever comes in.”
