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Abby's Christmas
Lynnette Kent
Noah's come home!Abby Brannon and her father, Charlie, run the Carolina Diner–the place where everyone in town comes for Abby's special brand of TLC. Abby longs to travel, to see other places–to have someone take care of her for once. And she has someone special in mind for that job. The trouble is, no one knows what happened to Noah Blake after he disappeared from New Skye fifteen years ago.Noah's return sends a shock wave through the town–especially when everyone starts talking about where he's been. But should Abby believe what she hears, or should she trust her heart?
A dropped pin would have sounded loud in the absolute silence
Noah felt half the room staring at his unprotected back. The other half stared at his heated face. He couldn’t leave the diner without paying for his breakfast, or he would have been gone.
“What are you talking about?” Abby pushed between the chairs and the tables, arriving at Officer Hayes’s side. “I think you’ve been drinking, Wade.”
The officer shook his head and gave her a righteous smile. “Nope. Haven’t touched a drop all week.”
Her face set in a skeptical frown, Abby crossed her arms and stared up at the big man. “So what are we talking about here? A speeding ticket in one of those traps you guys like to set up in small towns?”
“No, ma’am.” Hayes looked around, making sure he had everybody’s attention. “Noah Blake was paroled from a state of Georgia correctional facility in Atlanta on Monday morning after serving three years of a seven-year sentence.”
“For what?” Abby’s voice wobbled.
“Manslaughter,” Hayes announced. “Mr. Blake, here, killed a man in Georgia. And he went to prison for it.”
Dear Reader,
After “Where do you get your ideas,” the most frequent question an author hears is “How long does it take to write a book?” The idea for the AT THE CAROLINA DINER series came to me in 1999 as I was writing other stories. I got the go-ahead from my editors in the summer of 2000 and submitted the first completed book in January of 2001. So in one way or another, then, I’ve been working on Abby’s Christmas for more than five years.
All that time I’ve been visiting a diner of my own—a small “restaurant/deli” near my home, where they cook a good breakfast (including grits) and keep my iced-tea glass full. The waitresses know me by sight and can usually predict what I’ll order. (I change my mind occasionally, just to keep them on their toes.) They call me “honey” and sometimes “darlin’” and they remember I want unsweetened tea. During the thirty or forty minutes I spend with them, I feel cosseted and cared for. Mothered.
Abby Brannon mothers her customers at the Carolina Diner. She longs for adventure, but accepts the chains of friendship and love binding her to her hometown…until Noah Blake returns. Noah’s had enough adventure to fill several lifetimes. Now he’s looking for a connection to the places and people of his past. Abby is definitely a part of that past. But is he part of her future?
I hope you enjoy the time you spend with my friends in New Skye, especially Abby and Noah. I love to hear from readers through the regular mail and by e-mail. My personal Web site is in transition, but you can reach me—and other great Superromance authors—at www.superauthors.com.
All the best,
Lynnette Kent
PMB 304
Westwood Shopping Center
Fayetteville, NC 28314
Abby’s Christmas
Lynnette Kent
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A friend who talks me through my fears and doubts and celebrates my successes without reservation.
A writer who pushes me—and my characters—in the right direction with one little word: “Why?”
A woman who blesses my life and my work.
For Pam, with love
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
THE BELL ON THE DINER’S front door jingled, and Abby Brannon glanced up from the miniature Christmas tree she’d just started to drape with a string of shiny red beads.
A man stepped out of the bright December sunshine, then halted for a moment just over the threshold, blinking his eyes against indoor shadows. His black hair had been cut short, without much skill or style. He looked a little sunburned across his arrogant nose and high cheekbones. His broad shoulders filled out a scarred leather jacket, while dusty biker boots and lean hips in faded jeans completed the bad-boy-drifter picture.
The beads slipped through Abby’s fingers to clatter on the counter. Noah Blake.
Only when the newcomer looked at her across the empty room did she realize she’d said his name aloud. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. “Is that you, Abby?”
At the sound of his husky voice, her heart jumped like a startled frog. She swallowed. “Who else would you expect to find at the Carolina Diner in the middle of the afternoon?”
She rounded the counter and confronted him where he stood, grabbing the lapels of his jacket to shake him a little. “You’ve been gone a long time, but things haven’t changed that much. Welcome back!”
His hands closed over her shoulders and he grinned down at her. If she hadn’t been stunned by his sudden arrival, she certainly was at that moment. Noah’s one-sided grin was a sugar high she’d never been able to resist.
“Thanks.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, then let her go. “Kinda quiet in here, isn’t it?”
Abby fought to keep from touching the kissed cheek with her fingertips. “The usual lull between late lunch and early dinner. Come sit down. You look a little chilly—what can I do to warm you up?” Good thing she’d turned away before she asked that stupid question, so he couldn’t see her blush. “Coffee? Tea?”
“Got any hot chocolate?”
When she glanced at him in surprise, he shrugged. “I haven’t had some in…a long time. I just thought it would taste good.”
“Well, sure. I can make you hot chocolate. Give me a couple of minutes.” She stepped through the kitchen door, then poked her head out again. “The menu hasn’t changed since you left, but in case you don’t remember…”
Propping one hip on a stool, Noah pulled the plastic folder out of the clip on the counter. “Right here.”
“You got it.” Abby smiled, then went into the empty kitchen to hyperventilate.
I can’t believe he’s here. She drew hot water from the pot and blended in cocoa powder and sugar until they melted. I thought he’d have got himself killed by now. Or arrested. Adding vanilla, then milk, she heated her brew on the burner. Why has he come back? Should I ask him? There’s no way it could have anything to do with me. Right?
The suggestion left her too shaky to pick up the mugs of cocoa. She bought time by squirting whipped cream on the tops, then dishing up a couple of cherries for decoration. When she thought her hands could handle the strain, she grabbed a thick white mug in each hand, dragged in a deep breath and headed back to the counter.
“Here you go.” Setting his drink in front of him, she backed up against the service counter and took a sip from her own. “Enjoy.”
Noah toasted her with a lift of his cup. “Thanks.” After one taste, he looked at her in surprise. “How’d you make this?”
“Cocoa, sugar, water, vanilla and milk. A little salt. Is something wrong?”
“I just…expected the usual powder.” He shrugged. “Not many people make hot chocolate from scratch.”
“I’m an old-fashioned girl, I guess.” She felt her cheeks heat up. Again. “So, how long have you been in town?”
Noah squinted at the clock over the counter. “Almost thirty minutes now.”
“You came here first? You haven’t seen your mom?”
“Not yet.”
Surprised in her turn, she raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know you’re coming, does she?” When he shook his head, she nodded. “I talked to her just yesterday, when I took her to the grocery store. No wonder she didn’t say anything.” Noah’s mother was not the kind of person to enjoy surprises. “Would you like to call her from here? Give her a little warning?”
Now he was the one with flushed cheeks, and a storm in his dark gaze. “You think she needs warning?”
“This will be a pretty big shock—you showing up after fifteen years away. And she’s been sick. Did you know that?”
“Uh, no.”
“She’s supposed to use her oxygen all the time.”
“I—”
“It’s not good for her to get upset.”
In a sudden hurry, Noah downed the last of his chocolate and stood up. “This was a bad idea, after all. I think I’ll just keep going. Don’t mention I was here.” His long strides quickly took him outside.
Abby rushed after him and found him standing beside a big Harley. “Noah, I didn’t mean… Noah!” She grabbed his arm as he jerked on a glove. “First of all, you owe me one-sixty for the hot chocolate.”
He shoved his bare hand into the pocket of his jeans.
“More important, you can’t run away like this.”
“Who says?” He crammed a couple of dollars into her fingers, still wrapped around his sleeve. The leather was cold, the bills warm from his body.
“You’ll hate yourself if you do.”
“So what’s new?” His mouth hardened into a straight line.
She squandered the only leverage she had left. “You can’t let your mother die without ever seeing her son again.”
He stared at her a long time. The resistance in his expression made her want to weep. “She’s…dying?”
“She’s got diabetes, heart and kidney problems. Her health has been precarious for several years now.”
They stood still, gazes locked, while the sharp wind whipped up dust in the gravel parking lot. A small, dirty dog trotted to the bike, sat by the rear wheel and lifted a paw to touch Noah’s leg.
“You’ve got a friend.” Abby let herself be diverted. “He wants a lift.”
“Yeah, I helped him out of some trouble back in South Carolina. Now he thinks he owns me.” Noah pulled out of her grasp. He bent to pick up the animal and stowed the dirty little guy in the backpack hanging from the bike’s seat.
“You brought him here with you?”
“Didn’t have much choice.” Swinging the backpack onto his shoulders, he threw his leg over the bike and pulled on the other glove. “If I’d left him, the kids would’ve shot him to death with BB guns.”
Abby shuddered. “Where are you going?”
He gave her a resigned look as he buckled his helmet. “Where do you think? One-fifty Boundary Street. I’ll ride slow, in case you want to call and announce me.”
She smiled, but before she could say anything, he revved the engine and left the parking lot with a spray of gravel. Abby watched as he waited for the traffic light at the corner to change, then saw him head up the hill across the highway, toward his mother’s house.
Her heart sang. Noah is home!
Back inside the diner, she punched in the familiar telephone number, then hung up before the first ring. Noah’s mother might need more than just a call to warn her. She’d been in the hospital last week with her insulin wildly out of control. Maybe somebody should be there when Noah got home in case something happened.
By the time she’d finished thinking things through, Abby had the diner doors locked, the Closed sign on the door and her keys in her hand. She would stay just long enough to be sure Mrs. Blake was all right, then rush back to her usual routine.
Come to think of it, though, with Noah Blake in town, her life might never be usual or routine again.
NOAH GLANCED ACROSS the street at New Skye High School as he waited through the traffic light over the intersection beside the Carolina Diner. Not much had changed since his time, except for a row of portable classrooms added along the side. Hard to believe he’d ever been confined inside those orange brick walls. With a shake of his head, he left the school behind, rolling through the intersection, accelerating up the hill toward Boundary Street.
The rough, run-down neighborhoods he passed through hadn’t changed all that much, either. Some of the beer joints bore different names, some were gone, and others had opened since his time. More of the advertisements in the store windows were in Spanish and most of the men loafing in the parking lots and on the street corners looked Latino.
Passing through a business district of bars, pawn-shops and gas stations, he caught a yellow light and rolled to a stop with time to spare before red. The driver in the truck behind him sat on the horn, but traffic stops threatened trouble. Noah preferred to avoid any unscheduled encounters with the police.
