Chapter Eighteen
S am suddenly noticed what was going on around him. The holiday music, the kitchen full of cookies. He sat up quickly. “You’ve been baking?”
“I have oatmeal bars fresh from the oven if you want a warm one.”
That was all it took for him to jump to his feet. The sudden movement startled Cuppie. “Do we have milk?” he asked, surveying the counter filled with trays of sweets.
“Yes, we have milk.”
“And I thought I couldn’t love you more,” he said. As soon as the words escaped, his eyes went momentarily wide. But he didn’t take it back.
Allie pretended like she hadn’t heard him. “I’ll get you a glass.”
“God, these smell good,” he said.
“You can call me Allie.” It took a second for the joke to register with Sam, but once it did, he couldn’t hold back. She’d never seen him laugh so hard. Cuppie jumped up to check out what was happening. “I used his joke against him,” she told the dog. “He thinks his jokes are the funniest.” She gave Cuppie a treat and prepared a plate of cookies for Sam. Once the bellies of both of her human and her furry roommate were full, she turned on the television and looked for a Christmas movie.
Sam’s phone rang.
“Sam Clare,” he answered.
Allie could tell the voice on the other end of the line was male, but she couldn’t make out the words.
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I look forward to it. See you tomorrow.”
Sam was instantly back to looking stressed. “That was my old commanding officer. I meant to tell you earlier—he’s bringing a guest.” His phone rang again. “Hold up, Allie. Just a sec.” He answered in the same way he had the minute before. This time when he hung up, he was pale. “Is it a full moon?” he asked. “There’s another one. A missing teenager. I have to go.” Cuppie seemed to know by the shift in Sam’s demeanor that she was going back on duty. She was up and at his side without him asking.
“Do you want me to fix you a bottle of water? A sandwich? Do you know when you’ll be back?”
“Naw, but thanks. I’ve got what I need. I just need to get there. They think the boy might be out near the beach.”
“The beach? In the middle of winter?”
He shrugged and nodded.
“It’s so cold, especially near the water. Make sure you wear a warm jacket.”
He smiled at her. “Come on, Cup. Let’s go find a kid.”
And just like that, they were gone again, as was any desire she previously had to watch a Christmas movie. Maybe she’d just clean the kitchen and go to bed.
The house was strangely still when the sun rose the next morning. Allie’s gifts were neatly wrapped and piled in the corner of her room, the heater softly hummed warm air through the ceiling vent, and her cozy comforter smelled like laundry soap, but something was off. She’d never heard Sam and Cuppie come home. She told herself that she’d just slept through it, but her intuition knew. They weren’t here.
Wrapping herself in her pink bathrobe, she went out into the hallway. Sure enough, the door to Sam’s room was wide open, his bed neatly made, and there were no sounds of a dog breathing, the click-clack of nails, or the thump of a wagging tail against the furniture. The kitchen and family room were as cold and empty as his bedroom. There were no calls, no texts, just silence. It was not quite seven A.M. He had guests coming in that day, so surely he would be home before they arrived. She had no idea when that was supposed to be.
She texted him, “Everything okay?” then immediately searched online for information about a missing teenager. From what she could tell, the search was still ongoing. A photo attached to the story showed a boat scanning dark ocean water with bright lights. Were Sam and Cuppie on that boat? It seemed impossible to find someone that way. She prayed it wasn’t going to end in another tragic loss. If anyone could find that boy, it was Cuppie and Sam. Those two would never give up. They’d survived God only knew what while they were in the military, and they knew how to keep themselves and other people safe. That made her feel a little better.
It was Christmas Eve. She had prep work to do for dinner and plates of Christmas cookies to deliver. But first, she went for a quick run. Exactly five miles. Then she took her time showering and curled her hair before carefully applying her makeup. The decision to open her heart to Christmas felt so good that she hummed happy songs as she piled cookies onto paper plates and covered them in cling wrap. It was cold outside, but the sun was large and bright. Exactly as it should be. She piled logs into the fireplace, placed twisted-up pieces of junk mail beneath them, then lit the flames. The papers caught quickly and burst to life. She plugged in the lights to the Christmas tree, and placed the gifts she’d stashed in her room underneath it.
Unless Sam put something in his own stocking, it was liable to be empty in the morning, so she folded a piece of printer paper into quarters and took out her set of markers. After drawing a Christmas tree on the front, she wrote inside: This card can be exchanged for one picnic on the beach . She almost added KISSES INCLUDED . But instead, she wrote WINE INCLUDED . Then she stuffed it into the open top of his stocking with one corner sticking out above his name.
There was still no return text from Sam, but he was probably busy searching. She put on her winter coat and grabbed a plate of cookies for the female Boones. As always, several cats sat in the front windows of the short brick home. She wished she’d thought to buy cat treats.
“Well, absence really does make the cookies look better,” Dottie said the minute she opened the door. “Are those treats for us?”
“Merry Christmas!” Allie said.
“Come in, come in.” Dottie ushered her inside and closed the door. “It’s colder than a witch’s toe out there. Carolina Jessamine! Tulip! Allie’s here!”
A cat rubbed up against Allie’s leg as she stood in Dottie’s warm kitchen, so she bent down to pet it.
“That there’s Starvin’ Marvin,” Dottie said. “He pretends like he ain’t had a bite to eat in days, but don’t you believe him. He eats more than the rest of ’em.” Dottie peeled back the plastic film and popped a chocolate candy into her mouth. “Oh, yeah. That’s what I’m squawking about,” she said with a mouth full of food. “These are good.”
“Hey, Allie!” Jessa was the first to enter. “Merry Christmas!”
Tulip was right behind her. “Is Sam with you?”
“No, he and Buttercup are working.”
Tulip was obviously disappointed. She grabbed a cookie from the plate and headed back to her room.
“Tulip Boone.” Dottie raised her voice. “Get back here this instant and say thank you to Allie. And Merry Christmas.”
Tulip turned around and deadpanned, “Thank you and Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Allie said to her retreating back. The house was almost too warm and smelled of cats and fresh pine from the living Christmas tree in the corner of their overstuffed, over-knickknacked family room. There was not an inch of space that didn’t have either a family photo, a living cat, or some sort of Christmas decoration.
Jessa pulled up a counter stool like she was settling in for conversation. “Whatcha up to today?”
“I’m gonna drop off cookies to Fred and then make some dinner. Sam’s got people coming over, but I don’t know what time.”
“You’re cooking for all of them?”
She shrugged. “Sam said they were just dropping by, but I want to make sure something’s ready just in case.”
“That right there is the mark of a good Southern girl,” Dottie said. “Where’d you say you were raised?”
“Nashville.”
“Yep. Your mama brought you up right.”
People from other areas might not think that being called a good Southern girl was a compliment, but it felt good to Allie. She really had been raised well. As soon as she got home, she would give her mother a call and work out a time to give her the pretty sweater she’d found in Charleston. “What are y’all doing to celebrate?” Allie asked.
“Not cooking,” Dottie said. “Which is why your cookies are most welcome.”
“We do fast food at Christmas,” Jessa said. “Like, whatever’s open. We’ll drive for miles and miles to pick it up. Last year we had Taco Bell on Christmas Day.”
“I’ve got some holiday advice for you since ya got folks coming over,” Dottie began. “Endurance is not hospitality. Got it? Give ’em the scoot if they stay too long.”
“Got it.” While most of Dottie’s sayings seemed to be a tad off, that one felt spot-on. “Speaking of guests, I’ve got tons to do to get ready. Especially with Sam being gone.”
“Tulip!” Dottie yelled. “Get out here and say goodbye.”
Tulip peeked around the corner. “Tell Sam that I have a present for him,” she said before throwing out a half-hearted “Bye.”
Dottie rolled her eyes. “Y’all have a merry Christmas over there,” she said. “And thank you so much for the goodies.”
Jessa stood to hug her. “Come back anytime you want.”
Sam still wasn’t home. She texted him again. “What time are your guests coming?” Maybe by texting him a direct question rather than a general one, he would be more likely to answer. She grabbed Fred’s plate of cookies and made her way to her car. There still wasn’t an answer when she neared the old gas station, and she was surprised to see the parking lot was packed with cars lining the road around it. It was just like kind-hearted Fred to be open on Christmas Eve.
The door chime announced her entry and there was Fred dressed in a red Santa suit with his beard once again colored white. If anyone wanted a photo, he was happy to oblige. She felt silly bringing a plate of cookies to a man surrounded by food. But it was the thought that counted, right? A woman ahead of her handed him a beautifully ribboned box. “Toffee,” she said in a sweeter-than-candy voice, “my great-granny Fran’s recipe.” That had to be delicious. Fred came around and hugged her. “Thank you, Phyllis. That’s mighty nice of you.” The woman blushed all the way down past her low-cut blouse to her spiky red heels before reluctantly walking away.
Allie looked around as it dawned on her that most of the people in the store were women. Were they doing last-minute shopping, or had she accidentally thrown herself into a throng of single females vying for Fred’s attention? She was twenty-three, and he had to be at least fifty. It was mortifying. Had he seen her? Maybe she could sneak out. She spun around and headed toward the door.
“Allie!” Fred yelled. “Come here!”
Damn. She’d been caught. She slinked her way to the front. “Hey, Fred. I brought you some cookies.” She felt the eyes of the other women on her and wished she had the power to turn invisible.
“Thanks, hon. Dot said you’d be stopping by. Mighty neighborly of you.”
Thank God he’d just made it clear that he saw it as neighborly, not flirty.
He pulled a bag from behind the counter and handed it to her. “This is for you, Sam, and Cuppie.” He said it like they were a happy little family of three, and her heart swelled. She walked behind the counter and hugged him.
She pulled open the bag, and inside was a note that said FOR YOUR STOCKINGS . Did he know that she had actually hung some up? There were candy canes and card games and warm socks and dog treats . He actually is Santa , she thought as she climbed back into her car.
She turned into her driveway feeling more grateful than she’d felt in a long, long time. Her foot hit the brake when she saw a black official-looking car parked in front of her house. Sam’s guests must have already arrived. Parking beside the vehicle, she peered through the darkened windows. No one was inside. Were they in the house? Sam’s Jeep wasn’t here, so he couldn’t have let them in. Had she left the front door unlocked? She didn’t think so. But evidence showed that someone was at her house, and it wasn’t Sam.
He still hadn’t answered her texts.