Hayley Gardner - A Baby In His Stocking

What he did recall, vividly, was clinging to her in the hospital, begging her not to leave him, that he didn’t want to be left alone with his father, with no one to love him. Seconds later, his father had pulled him away with a look of fear and sadness on his face that Jared had never forgotten because he had put it there by his words. And his father had said something that he still remembered.

“I’m sorry, boy. I did the best I knew how for you.”

After that, Jared had never mentioned anything about not wanting to be with his father again, and in return, his father had continued to practically ignore him. After a while, he guessed he had just stopped caring whether he had love in his life. Maybe he thought his father’s remoteness was love. It was all he knew.

And all he could give a child.

He’d done all right alone, and would again. He’d put himself through college with scholarships, and by the time he was twenty had his degree and a job on the Quiet Brook police force. He’d kept mainly to himself for years, dating occasionally, but mostly living without love and emotion, until that fateful day when he’d gone into Denton’s, saved Mack’s payroll and his life—and met Shea.

When he married her, he’d known that she was too much the sweet princess in a fairy tale and he’d been too much an emotional pauper for them to ever make it together. But he’d wanted, for once, to feel like the prince, so he’d ignored all his inner warnings that their relationship would never last, that he couldn’t give her what she needed most. He shouldn’t have. He’d only hurt her. For himself, he didn’t care, but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the one woman who had loved him for a while with all her heart.

After parking his truck, he got out and walked up the steps to Mack’s door, where he paused to steel himself against seeing Shea again. He was doing the right thing by letting her go, he reminded himself. Without him, she could find someone who would make her happy and give her the family and the small-town life she craved. He just had to remind himself not to feel anything when he was around her, to revert back to the loner he’d always been.

Ready, he rapped on the front door. Mack answered it and led him into the study. Shea was sitting in the window seat, framed by Christmas decorations of holly and ivy. The house smelled of cinnamon and sugar and...Shea.

He found himself staring at her again, even though he knew better. Tendrils of her long black hair waved softly around her face, framing it as her eyes met his with an evergreen warmth that always filled his body with the familiar heat of longing. He wasn’t fool enough to believe that would ever change. He wanted her. He always would.

Her lips parted as she began to speak, but Mack beat her to it, his tone jovial. “Jared, thank you for coming.”

“You said it was urgent,” Jared reminded him, finally tearing his gaze away from Shea. “So what can I do for you, Mack?”

Seeing Jared standing there, rigid as a wooden soldier, Shea knew she had to carry through with the semblance of a plan she’d made while she waited for him to arrive. Every line of his face spelled loneliness. Jared needed to be given a chance to know the joys and pleasures of the season, to share in the Christmas spirit with others, and she was the only one who really still cared about him enough to persevere through the attempt. Since she already knew her marriage was over, she had nothing to lose by doing this, and her baby—and Jared—would have everything to gain.

“I assume Shea filled you in on what’s been happening at the store?” her father said to Jared.

“With the practical jokes?” He nodded. Waiting.

“I’d like you to find out who the Grinch is,” Mack explained. “We’ll pay you, of course.”

“You got me down here just to find a guy playing practical jokes?” Jared asked, sounding like he didn’t believe it—or considered it a waste of time. Shea winced.

Mack nodded affirmatively, and Shea added, “Please?”

Jared turned to her. “How would you two suggest someone go about finding this ‘Grinch’ of yours?”

“We figure the troublemaker is more than likely someone in the neighborhood.” She toyed with the drapes as if she hadn’t a care in the world and as if she didn’t really notice how steadily he’d been watching her. “Maybe even someone who doesn’t like small towns and who doesn’t have any Christmas spirit.”

That someone, Jared thought uncomfortably, sounded an awful lot like him.

“To get this guy,” Mack said, taking over, “you could keep an eye out for someone lurking around the Santa Station and try catching him in the act. You could also ask around and try to find out if anyone is upset with my store.”

“I’m not sure I understand why this is such a big problem,” Jared said, all too aware that this remark wasn’t going to set well with his friend. But he didn’t want to stay. “Couldn’t you just give out free candy or something to the kids at the Santa Station? You don’t really need anyone to play Santa Claus, do you?”

Shea tried to think of an explanation she hadn’t already given him, but her father sat down on the chair by his desk with an audible whoosh coming out of his mouth.

“Don’t need a Santa?” he asked incredulously. “Heck, Jared, of course Denton’s needs a Santa. Christmas in Quiet Brook wouldn’t be the same...” Mack frowned at Jared. “Didn’t Shea ever tell you about our gift-giving program? It’s been a family tradition for years.”

Jared aimed a long, unfathomable look in Shea’s direction that had her tingling all over and forgetting, for the moment, about their present troubles and the fact that the two of them were currently as incompatible as dry Christmas trees and Roman candles.

“I’m sure she might have tried,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’ve never paid much attention to anything about Christmas.”

That cool tone in his voice was all too familiar. She’d heard it a lot right before she’d left him, Shea remembered. It made her sad and afraid at the same time. Afraid especially because she knew she couldn’t help getting herself involved in trying to change him, and she was already feeling tender and wounded.

But she had to try, for Jared’s own sake. “During World War II,” she said, “my grandfather started a program. As each child visited Santa at the Station, the helper there recorded the child’s name and wish on a list. Then Denton’s would move heaven and earth, either through soliciting donations or giving the present themselves, to make sure the needy kids in town received at least one gift they craved.”

“The churches in town could do that now, couldn’t they?” Jared asked.

“They could,” Shea admitted. “Or the children could just mail their lists to Santa in the box in front of our store. But, Jared, the way Denton’s department store plays Santa to kids is one of the things that helps make Christmas in Quiet Brook the magical holiday it is.”

And, she added silently, they had to get things back to normal at the store by capturing the Grinch and hiring a Santa. She didn’t want to lose her job, the store, or anything else in her life.

She’d already lost Jared.

“So couldn’t you consider helping us—for the kids’ sakes?” her father asked.

From the way Jared was looking at her again, with an unreadable something in his dark blue eyes that Shea couldn’t figure out—but it wasn’t emotion—she knew he wasn’t going to stay and help by finding the Grinch, never mind by playing Santa. He wasn’t, she knew, because she was there.

Just as she predicted, Jared shook his head. “If that’s all you needed, Mack, old buddy, then I’ve got to be getting back to Topeka. There’s work there calling my name.”