“This is Olivia, Charlotte Rhodes’s daughter.” Grace gestured at her. “She’s the woman I called to get the information about Ben and Charlotte.”
“Oh.” Mary Jo shrank back in her chair.
“David Rhodes is my stepbrother,” Olivia explained. She smiled sympathetically at Mary Jo. “Although so far, he’s been nothing but an embarrassment to the family. And I can see that trend’s continuing. But don’t assume,” she said to Mary Jo, “that I’m blaming you. I know David far too well.”
Mary Jo nodded mutely but couldn’t prevent a surge of guilt that must have reddened her face, judging by her heated cheeks. She was to blame, for being naive in falling for a man like David, for being careless enough to get pregnant, for letting the situation ever reach this point.
“What are you doing here?” Grace asked her friend a second time.
“I’m meeting Will at the gallery. We’re going to lunch. I saw the aid car outside the library as I drove by.” Olivia turned to Mary Jo again. “I was afraid something like this had happened. Thank goodness for young Mack here—” they exchanged a smile “—and his partner over there.” Brandon was helping an older couple with their bags of groceries and stack of books.
Mary Jo felt no less mortified. “I should never have come,” she moaned.
“I’m glad you did,” Olivia said firmly. “Ben would want to know about his grandchild.”
Mary Jo hadn’t expected everyone to be so…nice. So friendly and willing to accept her—and her dilemma. “It’s just that my brothers are upset and determined to defend my honor. I felt I should be the one to tell David’s family.”
“Of course you should,” Olivia said in what appeared to be complete agreement.
Mack finished packing up his supplies. He placed his hand on Mary Jo’s knee to gain her attention. When she looked back at him, she was struck by the gentle caring in his gaze.
“You’ll do as I suggested and rest? Don’t get over-excited.”
Mary Jo nodded.
“If you have any other problems, just call 9-1-1. I’m on duty all day.”
“I will,” she promised. “Thank you so much.”
Mack stood. “My pleasure.” He hesitated for a moment and stared directly into her eyes. “You’re going to be a good mom.”
Mary Jo blinked back tears. More than anything, that was what she wanted. To be the best mother she could. Her child was coming into the world with one disadvantage already—the baby’s father had no interest in him. Or her. It was all up to Mary Jo.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Merry Christmas,” Mack said before he turned to leave.
“Merry Christmas,” she called after him.
“You need to rest,” Olivia said with an authority few would question. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I had a latte at Mocha Mama’s before I came to the library.”
“You need lunch.”
“I’ll eat,” Mary Jo said, “as soon as I get back to Seattle.” There was the issue of her brothers, but she’d just call Linc’s cell phone and let them know she was on her way home.
“You drove?” Grace asked.
“No, I took the ferry across.”
Grace and Olivia glanced at each other.
“It might be a good idea if you came home with me,” Olivia began. “It won’t be any inconvenience and we’d enjoy having you.”
Mary Jo immediately shook her head. “I…couldn’t.” Although Olivia was related to David, by marriage anyway, she didn’t want to intrude on their Christmas. Olivia and her family certainly didn’t need unexpected company. Olivia had stated that David was an embarrassment to the family, and Mary Jo’s presence only made things worse. Bad enough that she’d arrived without any warning, but it was beyond the call of duty for Olivia to take her in, and on Christmas Eve of all nights. Olivia must have plans and Mary Jo refused to ruin them.
“No,” Grace said emphatically. “You’re coming home with me. It’s already arranged.”
This invitation was just as endearing and just as unnecessary. “Thank you both.” She struggled to her feet, cradling her belly with protective hands. “I can’t let either of you do that. I appreciate everything, but I’m going back to Seattle.”
“Nonsense,” Grace said. “I’ve spoken to my husband and he agrees with me.”
“But—”
Grace cut her off, obviously unwilling to listen. “You won’t be intruding, I promise.”
Mary Jo was about to argue again, but Grace talked right over her.
“We have my daughter-in-law and her family visiting us, but we’ve got an apartment above our barn that’s completely furnished. It’s empty at the moment and you’d be welcome to stay there for the night.”
The invitation was tempting. Still, Mary Jo hesitated.
“Didn’t you hear what Mack said?” Grace reminded her. “He said it was important for you to remain calm and relaxed.”
“Yes, I know, but—”
“Are you sure?” Olivia asked Grace. “Because I can easily make up the sofa bed in the den.”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“I don’t want to interfere with your Christmas,” Mary Jo said.
“You wouldn’t be,” Grace assured her. “You’d have your privacy and we’d have ours. The barn’s close to the house, so if you needed anything it would be simple to reach me. There’s a phone in the apartment, too, which I believe is still connected. If not, the line in the barn is hooked up.”
The idea was gaining momentum in her mind. “Maybe I could,” Mary Jo murmured. As soon as she was settled, she’d call her brothers and explain that she’d decided to stay in Cedar Cove overnight. Besides, she was tired and depressed and didn’t feel like celebrating. The idea of being by herself held more appeal by the minute.
Another plus was the fact that her brothers needed a break from her and her problems. For the last number of weeks, Mary Jo had been nothing but a burden to them, causing strife within the family. Thanks to her, the three of them were constantly bickering.
Ned was sympathetic to her situation and she loved him for it. But even he couldn’t stand up to Linc, who took his responsibilities as head of the family much too seriously.
If her brothers were on their way to Cedar Cove, as she expected, she’d ask them firmly but politely to turn around. She’d tell them she was spending Christmas with David’s family, which was, in fact, true. Sort of. By tomorrow evening, she would’ve met with Ben and Charlotte and maybe Olivia and the rest of David’s Cedar Cove relatives. They’d resolve this difficult situation without her brothers’ so-called help.
“One thing,” Grace said, her voice falling as she glanced over at Olivia.
“Yes?” Mary Jo asked.
“There’s a slight complication.”
Mary Jo should’ve known this was too good to be true.
“The barn’s currently home to a…variety of animals,” Grace went on to explain.
Mary Jo didn’t understand why this should be a problem, nor did she understand Olivia’s smug grin.
“There’s an ox and several sheep, a donkey and—” she paused “—a camel.”
“A camel?” Mary Jo repeated.
“A rather bad-tempered camel,” Olivia put in.
Nodding, Grace pointed to her obviously bandaged arm. “You’d be well advised to keep your distance.”
“That’s, um, quite a menagerie you have living in your barn.”
“Oh, they don’t belong to us,” Grace said. “They’re for the live Nativity scene, which ended last evening. We’re housing them for the church.”
“The animals won’t bother me.” Mary Jo smiled. “And I won’t bother them.”
Her smile grew wider as it occurred to her that she’d be spending Christmas Eve in a stable—something another Mary had done before her.
6
Olivia reluctantly left the library by herself. Weak as she was these days, it made more sense for Mary Jo to go home with Grace. Nevertheless, Olivia felt a certain obligation toward this vulnerable young woman.
Olivia had never had positive feelings toward her stepbrother, and this situation definitely hadn’t improved her impression of him. Ben’s son could be deceptive and cruel. She knew very well that David had lied to Mary Jo Wyse. Sure, it took two to tango, as that old cliché had it—and two to get Mary Jo into her present state. But Olivia also knew that David would have misrepresented himself and, even worse, abdicated all responsibility for Mary Jo and his child. No wonder her family was in an uproar. Olivia didn’t blame them; she would be, too.
The drive from the library to Harbor Street Gallery took less than two minutes. Olivia hated driving such a short distance when at any other time in her life she would’ve walked those few blocks. The problem was that those blocks were a steep uphill climb and she didn’t have the energy. The surgery and subsequent infection had sapped her of strength and energy. Today, however, wasn’t a day to dwell on the cancer that had struck her so unexpectedly, like a viper hiding in the garden. Today, Christmas Eve, was a day for gratitude and hope.
She parked outside the art gallery her brother had purchased and was renovating. Olivia had been the one to suggest he buy the gallery; he’d done so, and it seemed to be a good decision for him.
Will was waiting for her at the door. “Liv!” he said, bounding toward her in his larger-than-life way. He extended his arms for a hug. “Merry Christmas.”
“The same to you,” she said, smiling up at him. Her brother, although over sixty, remained a strikingly handsome man. Now divorced and retired, he’d come home to reinvent himself, leaving behind his former life in Atlanta. In the beginning Olivia had doubted his motives, but slowly he’d begun to prove himself, becoming an active member of the town—and his family—once again.
“I wanted to give you a tour of the gallery,” Will told her, as he led her inside.
The last time Olivia had visited the town’s art gallery had been while Maryellen Bowman, Grace’s daughter, was the manager. Maryellen had been forced to resign during a difficult pregnancy. The business had rapidly declined once she’d left, and eventually the gallery had gone up for sale.
Gazing around, Olivia could hardly believe the changes. “You did all this in less than a month?” The place barely resembled the old Harbor Street Gallery. Before Will had taken over, artwork had been arranged in a simple, straightforward manner—paintings and photographs on the walls, sculpture on tables.
Will had built distinctive multi-level glass cases and brought in other inventive means of displaying a variety of mediums, including a carefully designed lighting system. One entire wall was taken up with a huge quilt, unlike any she’d seen before. At first glance she had the impression of fire.
