Lucy thought longingly of her aunt's Christmas Eve open house-the crowds of friends and family, the food and drink, the carols and laughter. It would be the first time she had missed it since she was a child.
She was sure the others were just as anxious to be with their families today-all except Banner, she temporized with a glance across the room at him. What was his story, anyway? Was he estranged from his family? Or just, as he had claimed, in no mood for holiday travel?
“Maybe if we drive very slowly and carefully…” Pop began, his gaze on his wife's disappointed expression.
“Don't even think about it,” Bobby Ray said flatly. “I've been driving these roads for years and they're dangerous enough when they're wet. Add patches of ice and you've got a disaster waiting to happen. You saw me hit the ditch yesterday. First time I've done that in years.”
To Lucy's relief, Pop didn't argue. He merely nodded in resignation and patted his wife's hand.
Before anyone else could speak, Joan and the children entered the room. It was obvious at a glance that Tricia had been crying. Her face was red and streaked with tears and her lower lip was still quivering. Tyler didn't look much happier. His head hung and his shoulders drooped as he followed his mother into the kitchen. Joan tried to smile for the benefit of the other adults, but the smile didn't reach her brown eyes.
It was a very unhappy trio, Lucy thought with a surge of sympathy. No child should look so sad on Christmas Eve.
Banner looked at the family, then reached again for the pancake batter. “There's milk in the refrigerator. With the door closed, it stayed cool enough. We might as well drink it before it goes bad.”
“We put some of the perishable stuff outside in a big cooler,” Bobby Ray added. “It'll probably stay cold enough out there to keep anything from ruining too quickly.”
Without saying a word, the children took their seats at the table. Tricia climbed onto the bar stool she'd sat on the night before. Their mother set plates of pancakes and glasses of milk in front of them, and they began to eat without enthusiasm.
Miss Annie studied the children compassionately. “Did you sleep well?” she asked them.
Both nodded without looking up from their breakfasts.
“Yes, thank you,” Tyler mumbled after a nudge from his mother.
“You both look like someone licked the red off your lollipops,” Bobby Ray commented.
Tyler heaved a deep sigh. “It's Christmas,” he said, as if that should explain everything.
“That should make you smile, not frown,” Bobby Ray replied.
Tricia's lip quivered again. “We were s'posed to go to Grandma's. Santa was going to come there tonight. But Mama said we can't go 'cause of the ice.”
“I still think we could make it,” Tyler insisted. “If Mama would drive real slow…”
“Now you sound like me,” Pop said ruefully. “The others have convinced me that it would be foolish to even try. Trust me, boy, it's better to celebrate Christmas a day late than not to have the chance at all.”
“But there's nothing to do here,” Tyler protested. “There's not even any electricity, so we can't watch TV or anything.”
“I don't want to stay here for Christmas,” Tricia agreed in a whine. “I want to go to Grandma's.”
Lucy saw Banner's jaw clench as he took the seat next to Lucy with his own breakfast. Bobby Ray shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the Carters looked anxious, and Joan seemed apologetic for her children's complaining. Unless someone did something very soon, it was going to be a very long day.
Electing herself to be that someone, Lucy donned a bright smile and addressed the children. “You know what I think we should do today?”
They looked at her without much interest. “What?” Tyler asked.
“Banner hasn't gotten around to decorating for Christmas. He's been too busy,” she added, deliberately not making eye contact with her host. “I think he would really like it if we all helped him decorate today.”
Tricia, for one, looked somewhat intrigued. “He would?”
“I would?” Banner murmured so that only Lucy could hear.
Lucy kept her gaze focused on the children. “Of course he would. It's Christmas.”
“I, um, don't have any Christmas decorations,” Banner said.
The children's budding enthusiasm wilted visibly. Lucy spoke even more enthusiastically. “Okay, fine. We'll just have to make some, won't we? That will be even more fun, won't it, kids?”
“I don't know how,” Tricia said uncertainly.
“I'll show you.” Lucy found the courage to look at Banner then. “You'd like us to decorate for you, wouldn't you, Banner?”
“Yeah,” he said, trying to play his part. “Sure.”
His doubtful tone drew a look from her, but she turned quickly back to the kids. “We'll get started as soon as we've finished breakfast, okay? It will be a lot of fun.”
Tyler and Tricia began to eat more enthusiastically, and Joan gave Lucy a smile of gratitude.
Banner, Lucy noted surreptitiously, simply looked resigned.
Chapter Four
When the children finished eating, they dashed off to brush their teeth while their mother and Lucy washed dishes in water heated on the stove. Bobby Ray and Banner assisted Miss Annie into the living room, where they settled her in the rocker in front of the fire with an afghan around her and her knitting close at hand. Pop sat on the couch with one of Banner's recent newsmagazines.
Between the light from the windows and the glow of the fire, there was just enough illumination in the room for reading and knitting, though Banner offered to bring in an oil lamp if the light began to fade. Satisfied that the older couple was comfortable, Banner wandered back into the kitchen.
He leaned against the bar, watching Joan and Lucy efficiently clean his kitchen. Well, to be specific, he watched Lucy. His gaze was drawn to her, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on anything else.
“Just what, exactly, do you intend to use for decorations?” he asked her curiously.
She tossed aside her dish towel and tapped a fingertip against her chin. “We'll need a tree, of course…”
“A tree,” he repeated, hoping he had misunderstood.
“A Christmas tree,” she clarified, looking surprised that it had been necessary. “Do you have an artificial one, by any chance?”
“No, I don't own one.”
She looked disappointed. “I suppose we could get by without a Christmas tree…”
Some insane impulse made him say, “I'll find you a tree.”
Had he really volunteered to tromp around out there in the ice, cut down a tree and then figure out some way to stand it up in his house? Her sudden, radiant smile assured him that he had. Looking at that smile, he couldn't even honestly say he regretted the words.
He wondered if maybe the milk had been spoiled, after all. He found it much easier to attribute his uncharacteristic behavior to bad milk than to the charms of a pretty Christmas elf's smile.
“What kind of tree?” Bobby Ray asked, coming back into the room.
“They want a Christmas tree,” Banner answered.
“Not if it's too much trouble,” Joan insisted, trying to shrink into the woodwork behind her.
Joan was such a mousy, unprepossessing woman, Banner thought. She couldn't be less like Lucy, who was even now using her hands to describe to Bobby Ray exactly what sort of tree she envisioned for their holiday decorating.
The big trucker nodded, then looked at Banner.
“You've got some small evergreens in the woods around your house, don't you?”
“Yeah. It shouldn't take long to find one. The hard part's going to be finding one that isn't covered with ice.”
“Maybe if there's one that's been sheltered by bigger trees…”