The Secret Christmas Child

“There is some good Christmas music that’s popular,” Jacob said reluctantly. “Maybe the guys would go for that.”

“Maybe you could help talk them into it.” Reese kept his eyes on the dog, not wanting to pressure Jacob too much. “You’re older and from out of town. They might listen to you.”

“That’s if I do the program.”

“Right.” Reese stood to leave. “I sure hope you do, for Biff’s sake, if nothing else.” He pounded the dog’s side. “He doesn’t seem to be learning anything I try to teach him.”

Jacob reached out a hand and touched Biff’s head, and his face morphed into a smile as he ran a hand over the dog’s soft ears.

A sound came from one of the bedrooms at the back of the house. It sounded almost like... Yes, that was a baby’s cry, now rising to a higher volume.

Huh? Reese looked at the three people gathered. “You have a baby here?”

Nana smiled. “My great-granddaughter,” she said proudly.

“Who never shuts up,” Jacob added, rolling his eyes.

Gabby looked sick.

Reese tried to puzzle this out. Nana’s great-granddaughter must be... He stared at Gabby.

“I was hoping she was down for the night,” Nana said. “Guess that’s too much to ask for from a nine-month-old baby.”

Reese’s head was spinning. “Whose baby?” he asked as he did the math in his mind.

The baby’s cries got louder.

“Better go get her,” Nana said to Gabby, who’d been standing as if paralyzed, looking toward the back of the house.

Without a glance at Reese, Gabby left the room.

Nana watched after her proudly. “She’s such a good mom. Hasn’t had an easy time of it, but she does a fine job.”

He knelt to pet the dog, counting the months again, hoping he was wrong.

He wasn’t. Anger surged inside him.

Gabby’s baby must have been conceived the summer he’d left for the Middle East. Early in the summer, if she was nine months old now.

But they’d been together early in the summer. He’d left at the end of June.

That meant her baby had been conceived while they were dating. And he knew 100 percent that he wasn’t the father. He’d respected her boundaries, shared them. They’d never gone beyond a kiss.

Apparently, she hadn’t kept the same boundaries with someone else...even while she was promising Reese that she cared and would wait for him.

Chapter Four (#ucfa43be2-673c-5324-b297-72b3a3f03621)

Gabby had hoped that Reese would have settled down by Monday morning, but as soon as she pushed open the barn door and saw his face—narrow eyes, clenched jaw—she knew it hadn’t happened.

Most of the boys had already arrived, and she checked the time on her phone. 9:00 a.m., but apparently she and Jacob should arrive earlier, quarter till at the latest.

She put her purse and the file folder of ideas she’d brought onto the shelf outside of Reese’s office, amid the sound of boys yelling and laughing, quiet country music playing and dogs barking. Bales of hay and heaps of straw sent their fragrance through the air.

It could have been kind of idyllic. But there was Jacob, already off in a corner and standing sullenly by himself. There were two of the boys clearly trying to impress the others by baiting one of the dogs, holding a toy in front of its nose and then jerking it away. And when she started toward them to put a stop to it, there was Reese, stepping in front of her, giving her a dismissive wave that clearly said he didn’t think she was competent to take care of the situation.

Meeting their deadline, putting a show together in a week, wasn’t going to be easy. Especially if Reese was hating on her.

Without consulting her or acting like she was a part of things, Reese called the boys together and explained the need for a show. He suggested that they look online for some Christmas pageant scripts, which didn’t exactly make the boys enthusiastic. She waited for him to mention the idea of letting the boys take some control and making up their own show, but he didn’t.

He was discounting her ideas and keeping her out of the authority loop, making her seem like just a helper. It wasn’t the way he’d described the job to her, but she needed to make money, and she needed for this job to work. It was best for Jacob, for Nana and for Izzy.

She should just hold back, let him run the program the way he wanted to run it, stay on the sidelines. But when a couple of boys started covertly punching each other while Reese was trying unsuccessfully to get Jacob to share his ideas, she couldn’t keep quiet.

Maybe letting the boys have a strong voice in planning their own show would be a disaster, but would it be any worse than what was happening right now? She raised her hand, and when Reese didn’t notice, she stood and waved her hand more visibly, at the same time stepping between the two boys who were fighting.

“Could I make a suggestion?” she asked. “And I’d need everyone to pay attention,” she added, looking sternly at the boys who’d been fighting.

Oh, how Reese wanted to say no: it was obvious, written in every tense line of his body. But to his credit, he didn’t display his lack of enthusiasm in front of the kids. “Go ahead,” he said.

“Maybe some of the boys could brainstorm about an original show while others do online research about Christmas pageants that are already out there. We could regroup and report out. I think that would help some of the boys focus.” She gave another warning glance to the two fighting boys, to let them know she was onto their tricks. “And if you don’t have a different idea for grouping them, I’m going to suggest that we count off.”

Reese frowned. “How about the boys can choose whether they want to work on original ideas or do research. Original-idea guys, over at the table. Research guys, gather around the computers. And anyone who doesn’t choose, we’ll count you off and assign you to a group.”

The boys immediately went to one group or the other, probably because nobody wanted to get counted off like kindergartners. The group around original ideas was bigger, but there were enough boys willing to cluster around the program’s two laptops that it wasn’t too bad of a discrepancy. By unspoken agreement, she and Reese circulated between the two groups, and eventually, both hummed along in a rowdy kind of productivity.

She kept glancing over at Reese, but he never met her eyes. Of course not. He was furious that she’d conceived a baby while they were dating, at least, as he saw it.

The idea of talking to him about it made her insides twist. She hated thinking about that horrible night. She’d had counseling, yes, and she’d sort of dealt with it, but she still felt that slick twist of shame every time she approached it mentally, so she usually refocused on other things whenever thoughts of Izzy’s conception came up.

Avoiding the subject wasn’t doable now, though. She was going to have to work with Reese, and if he was going to be sullen and angry, it would be conveyed to the boys. It would interfere with the job they had to do. That wasn’t right.

When the boys showed signs of being pretty involved with their projects, she approached Reese, heart pounding. “Could we talk for a few minutes?” she asked.

He frowned. “Don’t you think they need supervision?”

“Well...” She shrugged. “Yes, but I also think we need to clear the air. How about if we meet in the outer office where we can keep an eye on them?”

His lips tightened and he looked off to the side. He was going to say no.

But finally, he nodded.

She followed him to the anteroom of his office, stopping when he turned to face her. His arms were crossed, his expression set.

Her heart sank. Could she speak the truth to someone as closed-off as Reese? Someone she’d once loved, or thought she did?

Part of the truth, at least. She cleared her throat. “Last night, you found out I have a child,” she began.

He looked out toward the boys. A muscle jumped in his jaw.