Once Upon a Texas Christmas Read online

  * * *

  As Abigail escorted Everett to her library she wondered just what it was she’d interrupted. There’d been a tension between the two men when she walked in, something almost tangible that stretched between them.

  Not antagonism, exactly—which was good because she wasn’t sure what she’d do if her brother and the man she was coming to think of as more than a business associate didn’t get along.

  But what was it?

  “Nice sign,” Everett said, interrupting her thoughts. “Did you have that made?”

  She glanced up at the sign hanging over the library door. “Actually, Mr. Reynolds made it. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

  Everett’s expression shifted, became thoughtful. “Yes, that was very nice of him.”

  Abigail led the way into the library, walked to the middle of the room, then spun around. “Here it is. What do you think?”

  Her brother looked around appreciatively. “I think that you’ve definitely come up in the world. This gives you lots of room for your current collection, and lots of room to grow.”

  “And the best part about it is that I no longer have to take up room in the restaurant. Daisy can finally make full use of her space.”

  Everett waved a hand dismissively. “You know Daisy never minded having the library there. In fact, she thought it added a little something extra to her establishment.”

  Before she could respond to that admission, Everett grew serious. He rubbed the back of his neck and then looked up to meet her gaze. “Abigail, there’s something I need to tell you, something I probably should have told you a long time ago.”

  What was wrong? Few people knew Everett had spent his first eleven years in England. His accent was almost nonexistent most of the time, but it always became more pronounced when he was worried or angry, like now. “What is it?”

  “I never told you why I left Philadelphia and came here.”

  She frowned at the unexpected choice of topic. “I thought it was because you wanted a fresh start, a chance to start up your own newspaper.”

  “That wasn’t the whole story. The thing is, I did something when I worked for the newspaper in Philadelphia, something I’m not very proud of.”

  The deep regret she saw in his expression scared her. “Whatever happened, Ev, you know it won’t change what I think of you.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “You might want to wait until you hear what I have to say before you make a promise like that.” He waved toward her desk. “Have a seat.”

  Twenty minutes later, Abigail was sending her brother away with assurances that she loved him more than ever.

  Then she glanced toward the closed office door. According to Everett, Seth knew about this. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  But she needed to address it, and there was no time like the present.

  * * *

  Seth looked up when Abigail walked into the office. “What did your brother think of the library?”

  “He was impressed. He also liked the sign you made to put over the door.”

  So she’d told him about that. After Everett’s probing into his feelings for Abigail, Seth wasn’t sure that had been the best time for that revelation.

  She nodded. “And after he looked around my library, we had a nice long talk about why he really moved to Turnabout all those years ago.”

  His estimation of the man rose several notches. “Oh?”

  Abigail fisted a hand on her hip. “Don’t pretend, he told me you know all about it.”

  He swallowed a wince. “Perhaps not all about it,” he hedged. Then he studied her face. “How are you?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Everett made a mistake—goodness knows I’ve made more than a few of those myself. Granted his had tragic consequences, but it’s only by God’s grace that some of mine haven’t as well.”

  Was she remembering the time she’d run away from boarding school?

  She sighed. “I’m more grateful than ever for how Judge Madison helped him get his fresh start here. Which I will now have the opportunity to say in person very soon.”

  Amazing how she could always find the bright spot in any cloud. Did nothing ever dampen her rose-colored view of life?

  He sincerely hoped not.

  * * *

  Thanksgiving morning finally arrived and it was all Seth could do to contain Jamie’s excitement.

  The sun had barely come up before the boy was raring to go. “When can we go? Noah says his family always gets there by nine o’clock.”

  “Just be patient. It’s not even eight o’clock yet. Miss Abigail is supposed to come by and help collect the food we’re bringing.”

  “Did someone mention my name?”

  Jamie immediately popped up to greet her. “Miss Abigail! Are you excited about today?”

  “I certainly am. And I’m most excited about hearing you sing in the children’s choir program.”

  Jamie turned to Seth. “Miss Abigail’s here—can we go now?”

  Before Seth could answer, Abigail laughed. “First I need to help Mrs. Long get our hampers of food ready. But I promise to hurry.” Then she raised a brow. “You want to help us? It might make the time go faster.”

  With a nod, Jamie turned and headed for the kitchen.

  Abigail met his gaze with a saucy smile. “You coming?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she sashayed off to follow Jamie.

  Seth grinned in appreciation. The woman knew how to get her way.

  With a good-humored shake of his head, he followed them into the kitchen.

  Once everything had been packed up in two hampers, Seth took one and Abigail took the other. Jamie was a bundle of nervous energy, chattering nonstop and unable to stay still for more than a few moments at a time.

  As they stepped out onto the sidewalk, Abigail paused, lifted her face and inhaled deeply.

  Seth couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

  “Isn’t this a glorious autumn day? Clear, crisp, invigorating...” Then she dropped her gaze, giving him and Jamie a wistful smile. “It’s one of those days that make me grateful I don’t have to stay cooped up inside.”

  “Me, too,” Jamie agreed.

  Seth merely nodded, swallowing hard. She started forward again. Both hands clasped on the hamper’s handle. “We couldn’t have asked for a better day for the festival.”

  When they arrived at the schoolyard, which was being used as the festival grounds, Abigail pointed to a platform that had been erected to the left of the schoolhouse. “That’s new this year.”

  “What’s it for?” Jamie asked.

  “Several of the fathers got together and built it for the choir to stand on. It’s so folks who don’t get a chance to stand in front can still get a good view of the children singing.”

  Why hadn’t he known about that? Did folks think he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—help?

  “You mean we’re going to sing from up there?” Jamie’s eyes were wide—Seth couldn’t tell if it was excitement or apprehension.

  Abigail ruffled the boy’s hair. “Yes. And I aim to get as close to the front as I can so I can hear every note you sing.”

  Jamie grimaced. Then the sound of children’s happy shrieks and excited chatter caught his attention. He pointed across the schoolyard. “There’s Noah and Jack and some of my other friends playing ball over by the big oak. Can I go, too?”

  Seth cut a quick glance Abigail’s way, then turned back to Jamie. “Yes, of course.”

  The words were barely out of Seth’s mouth before Jamie was racing off.

  “It’s nice to see him having such a good time.” Abigail touched Seth’s arm. “The food goes inside the schoolhouse.”

  He followed her inside Mr.
Parker’s classroom and paused on the threshold. The student desks had been cleared out and what seemed like dozens of women were milling about. Tables lined the walls, and they were fast being loaded with every kind of food imaginable.

  Mitch Parker’s wife, Ivy, bustled up to them with a smile. “Welcome. I’m helping organize the tables this year.” She began pointing to the various tables. “Meats go over there, vegetables there, desserts there and if you brought anything to drink it goes over there.”

  Mitch set out the contents of his hamper as instructed, then looked around. “Do they use the other classroom for anything?”

  Abigail took his hamper. “That’s where all the desks from this classroom went.” She stored both hampers beneath a table. “It’s also a place where the babies and younger children can nap. Some of the older women take turns watching the little ones so the mothers can have the freedom to enjoy themselves.”

  As they went back to the schoolyard, Abigail gave him a mischievous smile. “I should warn you, I signed us up to judge the sack race and the three-legged race.”

  “Did you now?”

  She nodded solemnly, but he didn’t miss the twinkle in her eyes. “Of course. It’s our civic duty as representatives of a major business in town to participate. I knew you would agree.”

  He shook his head. “It appears I have no choice.”

  “I’m so glad you understand.” She waved him toward the left. “Now come along, the times of all the competitions are posted on the side of the building and we need to see when we’re up.” And with a sassy little flounce, she led the way.

  Seth smiled as he kept pace with her. It seemed Miss Fulton was feeling feisty—more so than usual. It ought to make for an interesting day.

  * * *

  Abigail was having a wonderful time. Being able to show Seth and Jamie one of the highlights of Turnabout’s year, and the best side of its community atmosphere, was a real joy. And to have Seth at her side in this rare moment of relaxation and fun without the pressure of the work at the hotel was lovely.

  When the school bell rang at ten o’clock sharp, she grabbed Seth’s arm and gave him a little tug. “Come on, we want to get a spot near the front.”

  He looked startled by her action and she started to pull her hand away. But then he closed his own hand over it and tucked it in the crook of his elbow.

  Feeling her joy bubble up even higher, she walked beside him as they joined the crowd gathered in front of the platform. Reverend Harper stepped up first, delivering a message of gratitude and hope.

  Once he stepped down, the children’s choir went up to take his place. Verity Cooper, the choir director, stood on the ground in front of them.

  Abigail stood beside Seth, her hand still on his arm, as they listened to the children sing “My Country, ’Tis of Thee” and “Now Thank We All Our God.”

  Seeing Jamie’s shining face and hearing the gusto with which he sang out touched her deeply. Did Seth feel it, too? She stole a sideways glance his way and the pride and affection she saw in his eyes took her breath away.

  And in that moment of perfect happiness, it struck her. She loved him—him and Jamie both. And with the kind of love she’d witnessed among the couples in her circle but never experienced herself. Until now.

  And close on the heels of that thought was the realization that, if things went according to plan, the hotel would be ready to open in four weeks’ time. After that, Seth and Jamie would return to Philadelphia and she would likely never see them again.

  How in the world was she going to bear saying goodbye to these two who had become such a vital part of her life?

  And how could she push those feelings aside, at least long enough not to ruin today’s celebration?

  * * *

  Something was wrong. Seth could sense the change in Abigail, could feel the tension radiating from her, could see some of the sparkle fade from her countenance.

  It had happened from one moment to the next while she was watching the children’s performance. What had caused this? What had he missed?

  But before he could dig deeper, the program ended and folks began milling about, collecting their children and moving on to other attractions.

  Abigail turned to him, her expression a fairly good facsimile of her normal cheery demeanor. “Come on. Let’s go tell Jamie how fabulous he was.” And she was off, wending her way through the crowds to get to Jamie.

  He followed, but once they reached Jamie, they barely had time to praise him before Noah ran up. “They’re getting ready to start up the horseshoe tournament. Do you and your uncle want to play against me and my dad?”

  Jamie turned to Seth, his expression a mix of eagerness and uncertainty. “Can we?”

  Seth glanced Abigail’s way, still trying to figure out what was wrong, not wanting to leave her alone.

  But she waved them away. “You menfolk go on. I’m going to look for Constance—I need to ask her a question.” And she was gone without a backward glance.

  Seth turned back to Jamie. At least horseshoes was one game where a bad leg wasn’t a disadvantage. He clapped his nephew on the shoulder. “Let’s give it a go.”

  * * *

  Abigail moved steadily away, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze or draw attention to herself. She was happy that Seth and Jamie had found something they could do together.

  And that she could have a little time to herself.

  She chided herself for her mood—she knew she had no business being downhearted. Today was Thanksgiving, after all, a day to appreciate one’s blessings, not get mopey about things outside her control. She just had to remember, everything was under God’s control, and trying to wrest it back from Him with all her worrying and moaning about what she wanted but couldn’t have was nothing short of a shameful lack of faith.

  So, time to start focusing on her blessings. Starting with the fact that she still had four whole weeks of Seth and Jamie’s company to look forward to, so she better not waste a moment of it. What was that verse Reverend Harper had quoted this morning—This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

  Determined to do just that, Abigail went to watch the horseshoe tournament. When she arrived, Seth seemed gratifyingly happy to see her. And while he and Jamie didn’t win, they obviously had fun.

  By the time they walked away from the game, she had pulled herself back together.

  Jamie, apparently unbothered by their defeat, declared himself hungry.

  “How does that work?” Seth asked. “Does everyone sit down to eat at the same time?”

  Abigail shook her head. “We used to, but the gathering has gotten too big for that. So now folks just pick their own time and groupings, and help themselves to the food.” She waved a hand. “As you can see, some folks are already eating, others are just now wandering over to the schoolhouse to get their meal and others haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  Seth put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “That sounds to me like we have permission to dig in.”

  The three moved toward the schoolhouse and joined the growing number who were ready to fill their plates. Abigail quickly retrieved one of their hampers and collected the dinnerware she’d brought for the three of them. Abigail helped Jamie serve his plate while she served her own as well.

  Seth finished first and waited for them near the door. As they stepped outside, carefully balancing their overflowing plates, Jamie looked around. “Where are we supposed to sit?”

  “Well, some folks spread blankets on the ground picnic-style, some take advantage of the tables spread out over the grounds and some stroll about with a plate in their hands, eating as they wander.” Then she nodded toward the platform. “But I think we might do best joining those using the stage for a perch.”

  “Agreed.” Seth led the wa
y and Abigail was impressed that he managed to balance his plate one-handed.

  * * *

  Seth kept a close eye on Abigail as they ate, but apparently whatever had been troubling her earlier was resolved now. She seemed perfectly happy as she regaled them both with stories of festivals past and things they had yet to look forward to.

  As soon as they’d finished their meal, Jamie raced off to join his friends and Mayor Sanders came over to tell Abigail and Seth it was time for them to assume their judging duties.

  Judging the sack race and three-legged race proved more fun than Seth had expected. Not only did it give him a way to participate, but he also caught Jamie watching him with a touch of pride in his eyes.

  Jamie participated in both games and took second place in the sack race for the under-twelve age group.

  He also participated in the three-legged race, partnering with Noah, and while the pair didn’t place, they were laughing so hard by the time they made it across the finish line that Seth didn’t think they minded coming in next to last.

  When their judging duties were at an end, Seth turned to Abigail. “Don’t you participate in any of the contests?”

  She shook her head. “I’m quite content to be a spectator this year.”

  “This year? Does that mean you’ve competed in the past?”

  Her grin turned saucy. “I have been known to try my hand at the apple-peeling contest and the egg race.”

  “Now you tell me, once the egg race is over. But tell me about this apple-peeling contest.”

  “All the contestants are given an apple and a knife. The object is to see who can peel it so that they end up with the longest unbroken strip of peel.”

  He gave her an assessing look. “And are you any good?”

  “Came in second two years in a row. And last year I lost by a mere quarter inch.”

  “Then I think you are honor-bound to give it one more try. Haven’t you ever heard the saying that the third time is a charm?”

  “I’ve also heard that three strikes and you’re out.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “Who would have guessed, Abigail Fulton is a quitter.”