The Christmas Baby. Lisa Carter
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could hardly believe he was standing on the waterfront with Anna after all these years. How many times had he wished...? He shook himself. Best not to get too attached. She was right. He was leaving.
The excitement in the crowd ratcheted as the judges awarded the remaining prizes. Braeden Scott won best in the sailboat division. Ten-year-old Max smirked at his glowering archrival, Izzie.
But the sea turtle float scored People’s Choice. The little redheaded girl smirked right back at Max. Santa Paws garnered Best in Show. The high school captured the Best Costume and Best Crew Spirit award.
And finally what everyone had been waiting for. With electric reindeer mounted on the bow, one last vessel negotiated the waters between the anchored parade participants. Excited, Maria and Oscar bobbed like baited hooks in the water. Mrs. Guzman and Anna exchanged smiles.
Father Kiptohanock threw a mooring line to a Coastie, who tied the boat to the dock cleats. Applause ensued. Father Kiptohanock—like an old-time waterman but in a faux fur-trimmed red slicker and Wellingtons—stepped onto the wharf.
Anna’s mouth fell open. “Is that Seth Duer?”
“Not so loud.” Ryan laid his finger on his lips. “It’s Seth’s turn this year. Margaret Davenport made sure he didn’t weasel out of it.”
“Margaret’s still orchestrating Kiptohanock life?”
The sixty-something lady was as well-known and Shore-famous as the Sandpiper’s Long John doughnuts. In her case, though, it was for her meddling, autocratic ways and sharp tongue.
He did a half-hearted fist pump. “Long live the Queen.”
Released from parental restraints, Maria, Oscar and the other children swarmed Seth Duer—aka Father Kiptohanock—for the anticipated candy. And Ryan’s heart swelled when Oscar shared his candy with Maria’s little brother. Oscar was a good kid. A kid in need of a helping hand.
Anna giggled. “Is it my imagination, or does Father Kiptohanock resemble a Yuletide Gorton’s Fisherman?”
“Minus the beard.” Ryan grinned. “But I think the bushy mustache counts.”
She laughed so hard she braced against the seawall for support. “Only in Kiptohanock.”
He got the feeling it was the first time in a long while that she’d laughed—really laughed.
Then he spotted Margaret Davenport plowing her way through the onlookers. At the determined gleam in her eyes, he wondered who she had in her sights. And with dismay, realized it was none other than Anna.
He broadened his chest. If she’d come to criticize Anna, she’d have to go through him first. Nobody was dissing Anna on his watch.
Anna’s smile faded as she glanced at his face. “What’s—?”
“I’m so glad I caught the two of you.” Margaret’s gaze pinged from Ryan to Anna. “Nice to see you home again, Anna.”
Anna’s hand flew protectively over her stomach.
Margaret focused on Ryan. “Your brother promised me he’d have those animals for the Living Nativity by Christmas week.”
“If Luke said he’d have them, then—”
“Fine.” She fluttered an imperious hand. “Actually, I came over to talk with Anna.”
He widened his stance. “I don’t think—”
“I believe congratulations are in order, Anna.” Margaret’s face softened. “I’m sorry your husband will not be here to share in your joy.”
He probed the older woman’s expression for signs of derision but found none. Only a compassion he’d not expected in the usually acerbic grande dame of Kiptohanock.
“Forgive me for asking this of you, Anna.” Margaret’s voice hitched. “I was never blessed with children myself.” She fussed with the buttons on her coat. “The wonders of modern science. Not like when I was your age...”
He gaped at Margaret.
Somehow the grapevine of Kiptohanock knew the whole story about Anna’s baby. It had to be Evy. The young librarian and the town matriarch had become inexplicably close friends since Evy first came to town.
Margaret’s eyes became misty. “I always believed it would be so wonderful to carry a child at Christmas.”
Anna’s eyes were huge, like a fish caught in a spotlight.
Margaret fidgeted. “Would you consider playing the mother of Jesus in the Living Nativity...?” Her voice trailed away.
He’d never seen Margaret so...un-Margaretlike.
Eyes lowered to the ground, Margaret backpedaled. “Never mind, dear. I shouldn’t have—” Her voice choked. “It’s not as though this is your home anymore or—”
“Of course I’ll do it.”
Margaret halted, midstep.
“Kiptohanock will be my home from now on.” Anna rested her hand atop her belly. “I’d love to play Mary in the nativity, Margaret.”
He frowned. “Anna...”
She raised her gaze. “Just tell me when and where.”
Margaret blinked twice before recovering her usual aplomb. “There will be costume fittings. And the one night performance during Christmas week in the gazebo on the square.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “I still need to find a Joseph, of course.”
As if one entity, Anna and Margaret cut their eyes at him. He shuffled his feet. But surrounded and outnumbered, nothing less than unconditional surrender would suffice.
Besides, how could he resist the opportunity to play Anna’s husband, even if it was just pretend?
“Okay. My arm’s twisted. I’m in.”
Margaret clasped her hands together. “I can’t wait to tell the other ladies.” She moved away. “I’ll send you both the details. This is going to be the best Kiptohanock Christmas ever.”
He groaned. “Where have I heard that before?”
Anna poked him in his biceps. “Your famous last words, I believe. And your arm doesn’t look too twisted to me.” She laughed. “Where’s your Christmas spirit, Ryan Savage? It’ll be fun.”
He grunted. “This is Margaret we’re talking about.”
She stared after the older woman’s retreating figure. “She’s changed. The town has, too.” She heaved a sigh. “Or maybe it’s me that changed.”
He crinkled his eyes. “The more things change, the more they remain the same. I hate to end the fun, but we better get going if we’re going to buy Oscar a Happy Meal.”
Anna’s face shadowed. “I don’t want to take him back to the motel.”
He sighed. “Me, either, but she’s his mother.”
“Something needs to be done about his situation.”
Ryan’s life had suddenly gotten so much more complicated. He was supposed to be wrapping up his teaching career, not getting more involved.
“Does his mother work there every night? Is that why he can’t get a good night’s rest?”
He scrubbed his jaw. “I should make a home visit when she’s not at work. See what the school could do to connect them to one of the county programs.”
“You always know the right thing to do.”
He made a face. “That’s me. Mr. Dependability. Mr. Reliable. Mr. Boring.” He called to Oscar. Maria’s father and mother hugged Oscar goodbye and waved them off.
Strolling