Mistletoe and Holly (15 page)

“Did you spill it on yourself?” he asked.

“Just a few drops,” she admitted. “I should be able to sponge them out with some cold water. Excuse me, Reverend.”

“Of course.”

After she’d worked her way out of the room, she went down the corridor to the ladies room. She managed to get the coffee stains out, leaving only a damp spot on her blouse which wasn’t too noticeable.

As she emerged from the ladies room, she heard Holly’s voice. She was playing in the corridor with the Christmas angel, Sally Tuttle. Neither child noticed Leslie coming up behind them.

“Who’s that lady with your dad, Holly?” asked the white-gowned girl with aluminum wings and halo.

“My mother,” Holly replied with smooth nonchalance, and Leslie went white.

“You told me you didn’t have a mother,” Sally accused. “You said she died.”

“She did, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have another one,” Holly insisted.

“Then how come this is the first time I’ve ever seen her?” the girl challenged.

“Did you see her crutches? She has a broken leg and she’s been in the hospital. That’s why she
hasn’t been here before, so there!” Holly stuck out her tongue at her doubting friend.

“Holly!” Leslie spoke out sharply, realizing she should have stopped this before. She spun guiltily around and stared horror-struck at Leslie. “How can you say such a thing?” Leslie asked.

Something crumbled in her face. With a lowering chin, she turned back to the blond-haired Sally. “I made that all up. She isn’t really my mother,” Holly confessed stiffly. “But she could be.” The last was issued in a kind of desperation.

“I knew she wasn’t,” Sally declared with a degree of smugness and went flouncing down the corridor.

Holly turned her round blue eyes at Leslie. “Are you mad ‘cause I said that?”

“No, but you shouldn’t say things that aren’t true,” Leslie said firmly. “Your friend would have found out sooner or later.”

“I guess.” She hung her head, scuffing the white toe of her shoe on the floor. “I’m sorry, Leslie.”

“We’ll forget about it this time.” She was troubled by Holly’s pretence. “But please, don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Holly promised with some reluctance.

“Let’s go find your father and Aunt Patsy,” Leslie suggested. “I think it’s time we went home.”

During the drive home, Holly was more subdued than usual although she did talk to Patsy Evans
about the Christmas program and some of her new friends. Leslie hardly said anything at all.

The incident had merely added to her own inner doubts. In the past, Holly had always seemed so happy and content with her father that Leslie hadn’t suspected the girl yearned for a woman’s presence in her life. So much of the time she had spent in Tagg’s company had included Holly. Now, anything that happened between them affected the child.

Leslie knew all about innocent victims. She had stood helplessly by while her parents had argued themselves into a divorce court, caught in the middle of a conflict that she didn’t understand. She didn’t want that to happen to Holly. She didn’t want to inadvertently hurt her if she decided to stop seeing Tagg. And it was obviously nearing the point where Holly was becoming too attached to her.

When Tagg braked the car to a stop in the driveway, he asked, “Would you like to come inside for some hot chocolate?”

“Not me, thanks,” her aunt refused. “It’s time I was getting my beauty sleep.”

“Leslie?” Tagg arched a brow at her.

She paused in the act of opening the car door. “No, I’ll pass too. Thanks.” Her aunt was already out of the car, but Leslie didn’t wait for assistance from her or Tagg as she maneuvered out the side
door on her own. She started down the sidewalk, following her aunt. Behind her, a car door was pushed shut as Tagg climbed out.

“Go into the house and get changed out of your costume,” he told Holly, then called, “Leslie! Wait a minute.”

She hesitated, then stopped to let him catch up with her, turning with a faint toss of her head. When he reached her side, his hands moved automatically onto her shoulders in a gesture that was possessive in its familiarity.

“Is something wrong?” He tipped his head to the side, his gaze probing.

“No. I’ve just got a headache.” She took refuge in an old lie.

His gaze skimmed her, seeming to sense the falsehood, but he didn’t press the issue. “Another time, then,” he said.

“Yes.” She accepted the ambiguous suggestion and smiled wanly. “Goodnight, Tagg.”

She turned out of his arms and continued on her way to the house, conscious that he watched her for several long minutes before the sound of his footsteps carried him toward his own home. When she entered the kitchen, she pushed the door shut with her shoulder and leaned briefly against it, a troubled sigh sliding out with a long breath.

“Did you two have a lover’s quarrel?” her aunt inquired bluntly, appearing without warning in the doorway.

“No.” Her denial was cool and even. “And we aren’t lovers.”

“At a guess I’d say it isn’t because Taggart isn’t willing, so you must be the one holding back.” Her aunt eyed her knowingly.

“I guess I’m not ready,” Leslie shrugged.

“My dear girl, no one is ever ready to fall in love,” her aunt informed her with a patient smile.

“I guess I’m not the exception,” she declared with a wry and laughing shrug. “How about some tea?”

During the first three days of the week, Leslie only saw Tagg and Holly from the window of her aunt’s house. She made no attempt to speak to them or make them aware of her presence. It wasn’t easy, not as easy as she thought it would be. Tension wound around her until she thought she was going to snap.

After a restless night’s sleep plagued by childhood nightmares, Leslie was late for breakfast. She swung into the kitchen on her crutches, an apology ready for oversleeping. It died on her lips when she saw Tagg sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.

“Good morning.” His gaze was warm and bright with pleasure.

There was a curious singing in her ears, her spirits suddenly lifting despite her attempt to keep them on an even keel. “Good morning.” She moved toward the table, glancing at her aunt. “Sorry I got up so late.”

“I was going to come in and wake you when I heard you moving around. You have an appointment with my doctor this morning,” Patsy reminded her.

“I’d forgotten.” It had been made so long ago that it had completely slipped her mind, or been crowded out by too many other things. “What time am I supposed to be there?”

“Not until eleven. Don’t worry. You have plenty of time,” she assured, then cast a short glance at Taggart Williams. “As a matter of fact, Taggart said he’d be happy to take you to the doctor’s office for your checkup. I think there’s something he wants to show you, too.”

“Something to show me?” Leslie repeated with a slight frown.

“That’s why I came over this morning. I was going to take you by so you could see what you thought about it.”

“You found a puppy for Holly,” Leslie guessed.

“I found a puppy for Holly, but that isn’t what I want you to see. Will you come?” Tagg asked. “It’s right on the way to the doctor’s.”

“I—” She wanted to go with him, so why deny it? “I’ll come.”

There was only time for a light breakfast of coffee and toast. She changed quickly to a better outfit, then left to accompany Tagg in his car. Even though curiosity was getting the better of her, she refused to ask where he was taking her or what he wanted her to see.

Tagg was equally uncommunicative, not giving her any hints or clues about their destination. When he reversed out of the driveway, he made the turn toward town.

T
AGG PARKED THE
car in front of an empty building located around the corner from the town’s main street. She gave him a puzzled look.

“This is it?” she asked skeptically.

“Yup.” He nodded his head toward the empty building. “What do you think of it?”

“It’s a building. What am I supposed to think of it?”

His tongue clicked in mock reproval. “I should hope you would think something. You are looking at the future offices of Taggart J. Williams, Attorney-at-Law.” His smile came quick and disturbing. “Come on. I want to show you inside.”

Without giving her a chance to disagree, he climbed out of the car and walked around to help
her over the snowdrift to the sidewalk. The lock stubbornly resisted his key and gave in after a few hard shakes of the doorknob.

A bare bulb hung from the ceiling of the small anteroom. There was no furniture or drapes to alleviate the bareness of the walls and windows. The building didn’t give the appearance of having been used in a long time.

“It needs painting and some minor renovations,” Tagg admitted as if reading her thoughts. “But I thought this could be used as the reception area. There’s three more rooms back here.”

Pausing to switch on the lights, he led the way through the inner door into a short hall with three doors branching off of it. He opened the one on his right and let Leslie enter another bare room.

“I thought this could be used for the secretary. There’s room for her desk and some filing cabinets,” he explained. “I’m going to have a carpenter cut an opening in the wall to connect this with the reception area so she can see whoever comes in.”

One glance around the four bare walls took in all there was to see. Leslie had an impression of a comfortably sized office with adequate work space and floor space. Then Tagg was directing her into the hallway once more.

“This room is too small to be used for anything
but storage of supplies and files,” he said, opening the door to the room across the hall and letting her glimpse inside. “Down here will be my office.”

It was the largest of the three rooms, but also the one in most need of repair. The ceiling was water-stained, indicating the roof had leaked at some point. The paint was peeling off the walls, the plaster chipped in places.

“Most of this wall space can be used for shelves for all my law books—a kind of legal library,” Tagg mocked. “The rest of the walls can be paneled. All I have to do is find a big oak desk and some maroon leather furniture and I’ll be in the law business.” He swung around to face her, his hands slid inside her coat onto the curves of her waist. “What do you think of it?”

“It seems ideal,” she agreed. “Of course, it’s going to take some work to fix it up.”

“It won’t take long once I get the carpenters and painters in here.” His hands moved further around her waist to link together at the small of her back. Bending his head, he brushed his mouth over her cheekbone. The light caress trapped a breath in her throat. “I’ve got to start looking for a secretary.” He rubbed his mouth over her lips, then straightened to look at her. “Have you ever given any thought to becoming a legal secretary?”

“No.” It came out on that trapped breath.

“The salary probably wouldn’t be as high as what you’re being paid now, but you can’t beat the fringe benefits that go along with the job,” he insisted lazily. “What do you think?”

“I—” Leslie dragged her gaze down to the top button of his parka, staring at it and trying to make her heart return to its normal beat. “I already have a job.”

She felt the stillness that went through him and the hard probe of his eyes, which she wouldn’t meet. The silence ran for long seconds, growing heavier.

“Leslie—” Tagg began.

“Hellooo!” A voice called from the front of the building. “Anybody here!”

Tagg swore savagely under his breath and let go of Leslie, stepping away. “Yes! What is it?” His reply was short-tempered as he moved to the hall door where footsteps approached.

“Tagg Williams?” An older man in a business suit and topcoat appeared.

“Yes,” he nodded, his eyes narrowed in sharp question for the man to state his business.

“You don’t know me, but I was a great admirer of your father—the Judge.” He reached out to shake Tagg’s hand. “I was over to Bill Yates’s store. He told me you had leased this building to open your law
practice and said that was your car parked out front. My name’s Davis Long.”

“Mr. Long. I believe I remember my father mentioning your name.” Tagg frowned as if trying to recall. “You’re a banker.”

“That’s right.” A smile widened his face, surprised and pleased. “Since I was here, I wanted to stop by and make myself known to you. Banks are always in need of legal advice. When you open your practice, I hope you’ll come by and discuss the possibility of acting as counsel for us.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Tagg assured him.

“I won’t keep you any longer,” the man stated with a quick glance at Leslie. “I know you’re busy. Welcome back to Vermont.” He took a business card from his pocket and handed it to Tagg.

“Thank you. I’ll be in touch,” he promised.

For a long moment, there was only the retreating echo of the banker’s footsteps as he retraced his route to the door. Tagg looked at the card and slipped it inside his pocket.

“My first prospective client.” There was a sardonic note in his voice as he turned and glanced at Leslie.

“And you haven’t officially opened your doors.” Her attempt at a bright response came out stiff.