Chapter Six
C ami had spent the rest of Saturday gathering up all the things she’d need to take care of this baby, at least for the time being—diapers, bassinette, onesies and warm outerwear. Her favorite was the baby wrap that she tied around her that held the baby close, which seemed to stop Lolly’s fussing whenever she was upset.
She’d spent the last twenty-four hours secretly admiring new mothers everywhere who carried on with little or no sleep with a baby this small. But still, in the middle of the night, as Lolly stared up at her with her big, blue eyes, connecting with her in a way no other human being ever had before—as if saying I trust you , she knew letting this child go would be hard. She did not belong to Cami. Somewhere, Lolly’s mother was probably thinking about her right now. Wishing she was in her arms instead of Cami’s. At least, that was what Cami hoped.
Honestly, anything was possible, but the note she’d left behind had colored any judgment Cami had about what Lolly’s mother had done. Not that it was right. But having been a teacher for years now, she could say unequivocally, that life was not fair, and things happened in people’s lives that didn’t make sense. She’d had students who had lost parents, who’d gotten cancer, and other worse things. So, whatever had happened to Lolly’s mother, Cami was withholding judgment until she knew for sure what her reasons were for doing what she did. Maybe she’d never know. And if that happened, at the very least, she’d make sure that Lolly had the best life possible. With her or without her.
While she was in town with Lolly strapped to her chest, she walked into several stores that she knew did engraving. There was an outside chance she’d be able to find the engraver for Lolly’s bracelet, but she had to try. She came up empty in the first two stores and headed to the last one, feeling less than hopeful.
A bell jangled above the door of the gift shop as she walked in. They sold all kinds of touristy gifts and trinkets, a whole shelf of Marietta, Montana, baseball caps in a rainbow of colors, mugs and a separate section for finer gifts like crystal paperweights and jewelry. It always smelled amazing in this shop with all the candles and soaps they sold. But today, it smelled like Christmas and the shop was full of holiday trimmings.
Cami knew the young raven-haired woman behind the counter, who smiled at her as she walked in.
“Ms. Hardesty! How are you?” Avery Blakely was a student she’d tutored one summer in college essay writing, something Cami did as a side-gig when school was out.
“Avery! So glad to see you! I thought you were away at college.”
“Oh, I am. I’m up at UM, but it’s winter break, so I’m helping in my mom’s store.” Her eyes widened as she took in the baby strapped to Cami’s chest. “Oh, wow! I didn’t realize you had a baby.”
Cami blushed. “She’s… she’s not mine. I’m… taking care of her for a friend who had to go out of town. Emergency.”
Avery peeked at Lolly, who was fast asleep. “What a little doll! How old is she?”
“Uh… two weeks. She’s pretty new.”
Lizzy looked impressed. “She’s so little to be without her mom.”
“It was… unavoidable.” Cami cradled Lolly against her. “Listen, Avery, I was wondering if you could help me. I found this bracelet the other day with a name engraved on it. Obviously, someone lost it and I’d like to get it back to them. I thought, maybe there’s an off chance it was engraved here in Marietta? Maybe here in your store? And that you might remember or have a record of it?” She handed Lolly’s silver bracelet to Avery, who turned it over in her hands.
“It could have been done here. We do have this particular font on our engraving machine, but I’d have to ask my mom. If it was done here, she would have done it. I just got back a couple of nights ago from school.”
“Is she here? Can I speak with her?”
“She’s in the back. Let me get her.” She disappeared into the back room and Cami browsed the store, looking at the jewelry in particular. There was no ID bracelet that looked like Lolly’s and her optimism faded.
Avery’s mom, Hannah Blakely, was smiling as she appeared from the back room. “Cami! How lovely to see you. Avery said you wanted to speak with—” Surprise flattened her smile. “Oh! And who’s this sweet thing? I had no idea…”
“No, no. It’s not what you think.” And Cami explained it all again, along with her quest about the bracelet. Hannah turned the silver thing over in her hands.
“You know, I do remember this bracelet. It wasn’t ours. But the young woman who brought it in just last week said it was an heirloom she wanted engraved and asked if we could do that.” She turned it over and held it out to show Cami. “See? I remember this small, engraved heart on the back. It was already there.”
Cami’s pulse thrummed in her ears. “So, how old was this young woman, would you say?”
“Oh, under twenty, I’d think. At any rate, she had a baby, too, and she looked too young to have a baby. I suppose that’s judgmental of me to say but—”
Tightening her arms protectively around the baby strapped to her chest, Cami silently agreed.
Avery leaned in. “Anything under twenty-five is definitely too young if you ask me. Though, granted, no one was asking… but I have a couple of friends whose lives got derailed by pregnancy in high school.”
Hannah patted her daughter’s hand. “I’m speaking as a mother, of course. I don’t know. There was just something about this girl. Something… lonely, I guess?”
Lonely. Yes. She must have been so, so lonely. Cami hadn’t really expected to get any answers so quickly in her search. “I don’t suppose you have a record of who she was? This girl who brought this bracelet in? On the off chance I can figure out who she is… I’m just trying to track down the owner so I can return this to her. I’m sure she must be missing it.”
“I… believe she paid in cash. She told me it was a rush and wanted to wait for it. And she did. So, no, I wouldn’t have her name. That’s probably not going to help you find her then. But I might have the receipt here.”
As she began going through back receipts, adrenaline kicked up Cami’s heartbeat. It had to be her. Maybe at least she could get a description of Lolly’s mother. Hannah pulled out the receipt and nodded. “Just as I said. She paid in cash. I’m sorry.”
“Can you remember what she looked like?”
Hannah glanced at her daughter. “Well. She was a small thing, not more than five two. And she had blonde hair, but I’m not sure it was natural. There was some pink at the ends. But what I remember about her most is her eyes. How sad they were. Blue. Nearly turquoise. Does that help at all?”
“So much,” Cami said. “Thank you. I really hope I can find her to return this bracelet. I have a feeling it must have been very precious to her. If she should return, looking for it, will you please tell her to contact me?”
“I sure will,” Hannah said. “Say hi to your mama for me, will you? Tell her to stop in and I’ll take her to coffee.”
“I will.”
Cami headed out of the store and the little bell over the door jangled again.
Outside, she stood there for a moment, unsure what to do next. So, she just started walking. Past the Christmasy window displays in the shops, past shoppers loaded down with bags. With less than two weeks left before Christmas the shopping frenzy, both here and in not-so-close Billings would reach a fever pitch and if she didn’t get her shopping done soon, there’d be little for her to choose from for her family gifts. Not to mention a wedding gift for Will and Izzy who were marrying out at the ranch soon. She’d hardly had time to even think of what to give them.
But her thoughts kept returning to Lolly’s mother, putting a rush on the engraving of her bracelet. Clearly, she had thought this whole thing through. It hadn’t been an impulsive move to leave her on that church pew beside Cami’s things. She intended to keep her identity secret, but did she also mean to disappear from Marietta? Where was she now?
As she passed people on the street, it wasn’t lost on her that any of the young women who looked passingly like her description could be Lolly’s mother and she assessed each one for a random look or telling eye contact. But it was she who was the weirdo staring at people. No one seemed the least bit interested in her.
She passed a man in a Santa costume, ringing a bell for the Salvation Army bucket and she pulled out a five-dollar bill and stuffed it in the red grate and started to walk away.
“Bless you, ma’am,” the man in the Santa suit said. “Hope you find what you’re looking for.”
That stopped her and she turned back to him. He had a gaunt face, under that Santa beard, but kind. He looked too young to play Santa. He was probably in his twenties. “How did you know I was looking for something?”
He shrugged with a smile. “Isn’t everybody?”
“I suppose. I’ve seen you here before haven’t I?”
He tugged his Santa cap lower. “I’m here this corner most days of this holiday season.”
“I am looking for someone, actually. You wouldn’t have—in your time here—happened to see a young woman about”—she drew her hand just under her chin—“this tall, blonde hair with maybe pink ends? Maybe with a baby or recently pregnant?”
He rubbed his bearded chin. “You must mean Tara.”
Tara? “You know her?”
“Don’t really know her. Small town, you know? I’ve seen her around though. Spoke to her a couple of times. I haven’t seen her in a while. Why?”
“I—just need to find her. I have something she lost. Do you know her last name?”
He shook his head. “No. Just Tara. Sorry.” He rang the bell again as another couple walked by and dropped some coins into his bucket. “Bless you,” he called after them. “And Merry Christmas!”
She pulled a card from her purse and handed it to him. “If you see her again, or hear anything, would you call me?”
He studied the card. “Must be something pretty special she lost, huh?”
“Very special, yes. I’m Cami. And your name is—?”
“Coby. Coby Strickland. Yeah. I can ask around but can’t promise anything.”
“Thanks, Coby. I appreciate anything you can do.”
She left him behind as she walked down the street, barely able to contain her excitement, she impulsively dialed Gus’s number on her cell. He picked up on the second ring.
“You’re not in the middle of birthing a calf, are you?” she asked walking toward the intersection of Main and First Street.
“Uh, not at the moment, no,” he said, and she thought there might be a smile in his voice.
“Good. You know that goose chase we were trying to talk ourselves out of taking?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I kind of caught one.”
“A goose?”
“No! Lolly’s mom. I know her name. And kind of what she looks like.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Her name is Tara and she’s a petite blonde teenager with pink tipped hair.”
“Wow. How in the world did you—Hey. Where are you right now?”
Surprised, she glanced at the intersection. “In town. Standing near the Graff Hotel.”
“Turn around.”
“Excuse me?”
“Turn around,” he repeated.
She did and saw him walking toward her, alone, with his cell phone at his ear. He was wearing a sexy camel-colored overcoat that came down to his mid-thigh, a scarf around his neck and a beanie that nearly covered those heartbreaker eyes of his. He was smiling at her. Her heart did that little fluttering thing in her chest at the sight of him.
“Hey!” she said into her phone.
“Hey, yourself,” he answered in her ear, still about twenty feet away. “Fancy meeting you here on a Sunday morning.”
“I was about to say the same thing.”
“You’re not in church?”
“Um. Nope. Neither are you.”
“Yeah. Not my thing,” he said, lowering his phone and shutting it off as he reached her. “But I dropped Ella off for Sunday school. She likes it.”
“Ah. I’m playing hooky, trying to get a bead on Lolly’s mother. Priorities.” She shrugged. “I’ll probably hear about it, considering I’m directing the Christmas pageant, huh?”
“Somehow, I’m not worried about you.”
His words warmed her. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I think.”
“As it was meant.”
His cheeks were ruddy with the cold, and he looked sexy as hell in his dark blue denims and square-toed cowboy boots. She wondered how long he’d been walking around Marietta waiting for church to let out? Her next thought caught her off guard.
I think I like him.
“If I’m not pulling you away from something important, want to get a coffee?” he said. “I have a few minutes before I have to go back for Ella. And it’s cold out here.”
“I’d love to. Honestly, I might be wandering aimlessly, trying to think of my next move in the Lolly saga. But I’m game for coffee if you are.”
That deep dimple reappeared in his cheek. “How’s Lolly doing today?”
She cradled the baby’s head and bottom in her baby sling. She was bundled up in a little snowsuit she’d bought her under the sling. “She’s the best thing. She hardly ever cries. Unless it’s two a.m. Or four a.m. Or five. I think she’s asleep now. This sling seems to soothe her.”
“Sorry. C’mon. Sounds like you could use some caffeine.”
“Oh, how right you are.”
They ended up at the Java Café, sitting at the bar by the front window, nursing a couple of cappuccinos. The café wasn’t crowded yet. That would happen later when church let out. But the barista behind the counter was busy on her phone and not paying attention to them at all.
“So, tell me what you learned about Lolly’s mom.”
She described the details she’d learned from Hannah and from the man at the Salvation Army bucket. “The downside is, neither of them seemed to actually know her or has seen her around lately. Or could even point me in a direction to begin looking. But if they had encounters with her, others must have as well.”
“You say she’s a teenager? That’s a place to start. That means she must have been in school somewhere at some point, probably here. And possibly saw a doctor during her pregnancy or delivery? There can’t be that many teenaged girls with the name Tara, I would guess.”
“If,” Cami said, “she was actually from here. But if not, how would she know me? If she’s somewhere between sixteen and eighteen, she’d be too old to have been a student in my third-grade classes. I haven’t been teaching for that long. And besides, I don’t recall a student with her name. Ever.”
“Fair enough. But if she attended school here, there must be a record.”
“Ryan has a yearbook. Maybe I can find her in there. Maybe we can circle in on a last name, maybe even find an address for her from the school.”
“What if,” he said, “she doesn’t want to be found? My guess is, there are… extenuating circumstances with her family.”
She nodded. “Like no support. Clearly that must be or—”
“None of this would have happened.”
“Right. So, we’ll have to be careful.”
He grinned at her use of the word we and took a long sip of his cappuccino.
Cami grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to include you in all this drama.”
“I’m kind of flattered that you would.”
She considered him for a long moment with surprise. “You are?”
He turned to look out the window. “Aside from pulling calves and inoculating every four-legged ranch animal within in a thirty-mile radius of this town, I’ve been pretty single-mindedly focused on keeping my head down and taking care of Ella. I actually welcome the distraction.”
A flicker of disappointment wafted through her, though she could hardly say why. Maybe she’d hoped for something more personal than being a mere distraction from his job? But who was she to quibble? She took a gulp of coffee.
He rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, that… that didn’t come out exactly as it had sounded in my head,” he said, looking apologetic. “Wh-what I meant to say was… uh—” He broke off, looking lost.
She raised her eyebrows in anticipation.
“I meant to say that it’s been a long time,” he continued, “since I simply shared a coffee with a woman who wasn’t paying me to treat her colicky horse or diagnose her steer’s gimpy leg. It’s mostly me, lying covered in muck on a half-frozen field, trying to make sure Ella gets picked up from school on time. This is more than a distraction. I… enjoy your company.”
Touched, she felt her cheeks go hot. “You, Dr. Claymore,” she said with a chuckle, “need to get out more. But I’m happy to fill that apparent void in your life this morning, if only to introduce a little Hardesty chaos into it.”
He looked relieved that she’d teased him about it. “Chaos, particularly Hardesty chaos, is always welcome.”
Lolly began to fuss, and she stood and rocked her. “I think she’s hungry and I should be getting back anyway. But I think we’re going to decorate that tree we bought yesterday and a couple others, if you and Ella would like to come and help. Luke is welcome, too, of course. Which comes, by the way, with an invitation to stay for the big family dinner tradition that follows. My mom is already smoking a big roast in the smoker. And I think there will be cookies.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family—”
“No intrusion. I mean, welcome to the chaos. I’m fairly certain you and Ella and Luke will not be the only non-Hardestys there, as it’s also a tradition to bring friends.”
“How can I refuse an offer like that?”
“You cannot. See you all around four?”
“Thanks. Yes. See you then.”
*
Gus and Ella left the church, with Ella bundled against the cold, holding his hand. Ella looked thoughtful as they walked toward his truck. He tried to strike up a conversation about how Sunday school had gone, but finally she changed the subject.
“One of the boys in my Sunday school class said that there’s a Santa Claus at the Graff Hotel. And he’s giving out candy canes if you tell him what you want for Christmas.”
“I can buy us some candy canes, if you want one,” he said, watching the traffic move across the intersection. Once church let out, the streets of Marietta got crowded at this time of year with shoppers and folks out for lunch.
“Riley Garfield said her parents are taking her there after church, to see Santa,” Ella went on. “She’s my friend.”
He glanced down at her. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“That she’s my friend?”
He squeezed her hand affectionately. “No. About Santa, I mean.”
“No!” Ella sounded offended at the suggestion. “But… she said her brothers told her that already. She doesn’t believe it.”
“Ah.”
“I said neither do I.” At Gus’s look, she said, “What? I didn’t want her to feel bad. And we’re friends.”
“Okay. That was kind of you.”
“And I said I’d ask you if we can go there to the Graff, too.”
“To… see Santa?”
“Well, yes,” she said, “I’d have to pretend. But at least I’ll get a candy cane. And we can make a play date with her mom?”
“We can do that.”
“Now?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
Gus couldn’t help but think of his conversation with Luke the other night, about Ella craving roots. Friends. Stability. He knew Luke was right. If she had to pretend to believe in Santa to fit it, then he was for it. And free candy canes aside, meeting new parents to set a play date with a new friend was a good start.
The line was already forming inside the Graff Hotel’s lobby where a large throne had been set up surrounded by Christmas decorations to house Santa. A woman dressed up in an elf costume was taking photos and there was a buzz of excitement coming from the children waiting in line.
He had to admit the old guy sitting on the Santa throne was pretty authentic-looking, with a real white beard and a little extra girth beneath his red-velvet costume. And when he laughed along with a kid on his lap, his laugh did sound pretty genuine. Not at all the ho-ho-ho most of them attempted. At least the Graff had put out some effort not to hire some kid with a synthetic beard that looked more like teddy bear stuffing than hair.
Ella ran up beside her friend, Riley, and the two were immediately thick as thieves, whispering together and giggling.
“You must be Eloise’s father,” said a woman nearby, who saw him smiling at the girls. She was young, maybe late twenties with long, blonde hair and a bright smile. He thought he’d seen her before, probably at church alongside the man near her, who smiled at him, too. “I’m Carrie Garfield, and this is my husband, Derek.”
Gus reached out his hand. “Yeah. I’m Gus Claymore. Eloise is my daughter.”
“Riley’s been talking about Eloise for weeks now, begging to get together, but we never seemed to run into you.”
At church, she meant. “Ella made a point of wanting to come here so I could meet you today. She’s anxious for a play date with Riley.”
The line had moved up and Riley was next to talk to Santa.
“We absolutely would love to have Eloise over. Derek, can you give Gus our phone number so we can set it up? If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m going to go watch Riley commune with Santa. I really have no idea of her six-year-old heart’s desire. And who knows?” she added ruefully. “This could be our last year of believing.”
“Kids these days,” Derek said, watching his wife go. “They’re a lot more cynical than they used to be, right?”
“I guess so.” He didn’t want to get into an ideological discussion with Derek.
“No, but it’s kind of nice when they’re little like our girls and still believe, isn’t it? It doesn’t last long enough. That’s for sure.”
“That’s true.” As Riley confided her Christmas list to Santa and the elf snapped her photo, Ella seemed charmed by the whole thing and stood with her hands clasped under her chin, waiting for her turn. Was she actually going to sit on the old guy’s lap for the sake of her friend?
Being a single dad with a kid like Eloise was a real balancing act. Starting back with her mom’s loss, he’d always tried to be honest with her and knew she counted on that. That had brought them closer, he believed. So, when it came to the truth about Santa, it had seemed like an easy call. The truth seemed easier than the lie. But if Lissa was still here, he knew things would be… different.
Derek and Carrie Garfield snapped copious photos of their daughter who gladly accepted the candy cane from the old man in the chair. But it wasn’t until it was Eloise’s turn that she turned and met his eye. She wasn’t asking permission, exactly. But maybe simply his complicity as she approached Santa. Gus moved closer trying to hear their conversation. He might need some help in the present department.
“Well, now, I seem to remember you,” Santa told her. “But it’s been quite a year for you, hasn’t it? Did you like the books I brought you last year?”
Ella’s expression flattened. “You didn’t. I already know.”
“What is it you think you know?” he asked patiently.
She leaned close to Santa and whispered something in his ear. Surprise crossed the old man’s expression. Then a smile.
“That’s all right,” he said, quietly. “A lot of people think that. But you see, I don’t need you to believe in me. Just in the idea of me. Because I know who I am. And I’m as real as you are. Now. Why don’t you tell me what you really want this Christmas?”
She shrugged her shoulders and glanced back at Gus. “I just came for the candy cane,” she whispered, “and ’cause Riley still believes in you.”
“I see.” He pulled one out of his bag. “But as long as you’re here”—he held it out to her and her fingers closed around the plastic wrapped mini-sweet—“you might as well tell me what it is you really, really want, Eloise. And I’m guessing it’s not a skateboard, or a doll, or even a Barbie dream house, is it?”
Now, her eyes widened as she shook her head. “But how did you know my nam—”
“It’s a big request, instead, isn’t it? And you think I can’t do it.”
Ella nodded slowly. “I know you can’t.”
Gus watched the other children in line fidgeting for their turns. What was she talking about?
The bearded old man leaned closer to her. “You can whisper it if you like. We’ll keep it between us.”
She heaved a heavy sigh before leaning close to Santa and whispering something else in his ear.
A wry smile grew on the old man’s face. “Ah. Now. That is a big wish, my dear. But I’ll see what I can do. You just keep the faith. That’s all I ask. I might just surprise you.”
She nodded a quiet goodbye to him, too shy to say it aloud.
“See you soon,” he promised.
Clutching her candy cane, Ella hurried away from the old man in red and ran to Gus’s side.
“What was that about?” Gus asked. “I thought you didn’t believe in Santa Claus.”
“I don’t.” But she was watching, with a strange look on her face, as the other children climbed happily onto Santa’s lap to tell him all their Christmas wishes.
“What did he say to you?” Gus asked as they walked away.
“He said…” she began. “Oh, never mind.”
He glanced back at the man on the Santa throne who was watching him as well and the old man winked at him as a little boy tugged at his very real beard.