When Tomorrow Comes Page 8

“Don’t you have to work?”

  “Rogers is on early shift tomorrow. I take over in the afternoon.”

  Christine nodded, thankful to call it a day. She pulled off her slippers and slipped into her boots. “If you want to stop by and pick me up, I’ll help,” she suggested.

  She didn’t miss the light in Laray’s eyes. “I’ll do that.”

  “Providing, of course, it’s not too early.”

  “How early is too early?”

  “Noon,” she laughed.

  “What about Danny?”

  “Henry’s coming back for Danny to take him out to the cabin. They’ll have their first Christmas morning together.”

  “Hey—that’s great. That brother of yours thinks of everything. Does Danny know?”

  “We didn’t dare tell him. Thought he’d never sleep if he was looking forward to that. Or he might have insisted in going with them tonight.”

  Laray reached for Christine’s coat and helped her into it. When they left the church, Christine was surprised to discover that warmer air had replaced the extreme cold, and a light snow had begun to fall. She lifted her face toward the heavens and let the large, fluffy flakes cool her warm cheeks. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Just what Christmas Eve should be.”

  Laray cleared his throat. “Speaking of beautiful . . .” He hesitated. “You looked pretty good today.”

  Christine’s head came around. She did hope he wasn’t going to make any silly speeches, but he said nothing more. “Thank you,” she murmured in response to the compliment. After all, “pretty good” was not so hard to accept.

  After the short drive to Amber’s house, they saw a light glowing from the front window. Christine could see her mother in an easy chair, head leaned back in rest. Christine smiled. She looked so nice in her gray suit spruced up with a new blouse of pale blue silk. She was glad her father had talked her into purchasing it.

  Christine was about to open the front door when she felt Laray’s restraining hand on her own. He was standing close— very close. It made her feel uneasy. He held out his pocket watch, which she could barely read in the light from the window. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered in her ear.

  Christine felt her body stiffen, but she did manage a whispered “Merry Christmas” in response.

  Laray then opened the door quietly and let them in. Elizabeth’s head lifted immediately.

  “You finally finished? I should have stayed and helped.”

  “Nonsense. Sorry to keep you up so long. How’s Danny?”

  “Well,” said Wynn, laying aside the newspaper, “it took half a dozen stories about the frozen North and the Indians, and a promise or two of a fishing trip—and a dozen of your mother’s little lullabies. But he finally dropped off.”

  “I’m sorry,” Christine said again. “You must be awfully weary.”

  “No need to feel sorry. We’ve had a lovely evening.” Elizabeth stood, a contented smile on her face. “I’ve made some fresh coffee and cut some Christmas cake. Thought you might like it here by the fire.”

  Christine felt her face flush. She was trapped. There was no way she could send Laray away now without seeming very rude.

  She nodded, unable to say even a thank-you.

  When she gathered her wits, she spoke quickly. “You’ll stay and have some with us?”

  “Your mother and I already celebrated the coming Christmas together,” said her father, reaching for Elizabeth’s coat.

  “Now it’ll be good to get some rest.”

  “But it’s Christmas,” Christine pointed out, motioning toward the mantel clock.

  Wynn laughed. “So it is. Well, Merry Christmas to you both.” Then he leaned over and kissed Elizabeth on the nose. “And Merry Christmas to you, my dear.”

  Dad, don’t start anything, Christine wanted to exclaim. But Laray made no move to follow suit.

  “I’ll get the coffee,” he said instead, and bidding the Delaneys good night, he headed for the kitchen.

  Still feeling on edge, Christine removed her coat and wandered over to stare down at the fire. She did hope she would not have a difficult time getting him to leave. She was tired and in no frame of mind for any kind of intimate conversations or cozy chats. How was she going to handle this?

  Laray was soon back with two cups of coffee. He placed one on the small table near Christine.

  “I know you’re tired,” he said, putting his own cup down, “so I’ll be on my way just as soon as I have a piece of your mother’s Christmas cake.”

  Christine felt her shoulders relax, and she sat down as Laray returned to the kitchen for their cake.

  “What did you like best about the day?” Laray asked as he handed Christine her plate.

  She smiled. “Danny—I guess. Wasn’t he cute?”

  “Yeah. Danny really did take the tension from the whole affair.”

  “You find weddings . . . tense?” Christine looked at him over the rim of her cup.

  Laray did not hesitate. “Yeah. Don’t you?”

  Christine shook her head. “I find them . . . beautiful.”

  Laray squirmed. “Yeah,” he agreed, “when they’re all over.” He took a bite of cake and murmured appreciatively.

  Christine stretched out tired feet to the fire. “Well, this one is all over. I can’t believe I finally have the sister I’ve always wanted. And a cute nephew to boot. I just wish they didn’t live so far away.” Her voice turned wistful.

  “So why don’t you stay?” asked Laray.

  “Sure—and just as soon as I managed to get settled, they’d up and transfer Henry.” Christine smiled ruefully.

  Laray nodded. That was most likely.

  “You’ve lived with the Force for a long time,” he observed.

  “Most of my life.”

  “Do you ever—resent it?”

  Christine was surprised by the question. “Never,” she said emphatically.

  He shifted in his seat. “Some women do.”

  It was a simple statement. One that Christine could not deny.

  “And you liked the North?”

  “I loved the North.”

  “Would you go back?”

  “In a minute.”

  There was silence except for the crackling and spitting of the fire.

  “I’ve thought I’d like to try the North,” said Laray.

  Christine took a quick breath, about to launch into an excited litany of the beauties and advantages of the North. But she closed her mouth firmly. Where was this conversation heading? “I think you’d like it,” was all she said.

  “Yeah, well—right now I like this here Christmas cake. But I think I’ve had enough, so I’d best get me off home to bed. I work the late shift tomorrow, so I’ll need to be able to keep my eyes open. Hope it’s quiet, being Christmas—but one never knows.”

  Christine was relieved as Laray set aside his cup and stood to his feet.

  “Suppose I’ll see you at the Christmas service?”

  “Oh, I forgot,” Christine groaned. “What time does it begin?”

  “Eight-thirty.”

  “Eight-thirty—it means not much sleep. Why so early?”

  “Because it’s Christmas. Because kids get up at five, and dinner is at one.” Laray chuckled.

  “I’ll be there,” Christine agreed, “but I’m not sure my eyes will be open.”

  “I’ll drop around and pick you up.”

  “No. No, the walk will do me good. Might even make me alert enough to know what’s going on.”

  Laray chuckled again.

  “But we were going to load those boxes,” Christine remembered.

  Laray was shrugging into his coat. “Don’t worry about the boxes. I’ll look after them.”

  He waved a hand her way and was gone.

  Christine stared after him, then turned once again to the fireplace. Only embers remained, blinking and snapping among the ashes and charred bits of remaining log.

  She needn’t have
been so worried. Laray had said or done nothing amiss. No hints at future alliance. No attempts at further compliments. No subtle drawing close to her. Nothing.

  For a brief moment she wasn’t sure if she was relieved—or disappointed.

  It was some stirring about that awakened Christine. Momentarily she groped for its meaning as she struggled to consciousness. Henry was picking up Danny. She could tell by muffled sounds and voices that he was warning Danny to be quiet and not to awaken Auntie Christine. With a sleepy smile, she crawled from the bed and reached for her robe.

  “So you made it?” she said with a yawn as she greeted the two in the hallway.

  Danny’s excitement could not be contained. “I’m going to the cabin to have Christmas with my mom and dad.”

  “I heard.”

  “Our very first Christmas,” Danny exclaimed. “I’ve even got a present for Mommy. Daddy helped me shop.”

  Danny held up the gift he had purchased. Christine could tell he had wrapped it himself. Amber would be thrilled.

  “What is it?” she whispered, in keeping with the moment.

  “Can’t tell. It’s a secret,” he whispered back in Danny fashion.

  “But your mommy’s not here.”

  He looked doubtful. Secrets were secrets. “Can’t tell anyway.”

  Christine nodded and gave him a hug.

  “You have a good time,” she said. Danny intended to do just that.

  “We’ll be back for dinner,” Danny promised. “Then Mommy and Daddy are going to go away on the—the what moon, Daddy?”

  “The honeymoon,” Henry laughed.

  With a flurry of waves and good-byes, they left and Christine turned to the kitchen. Henry had already started a pot of coffee on the stove. She would get dressed. The coffee would be ready by the time she was back.

  Christine had no trouble waking up. The walk to the church had her fully alert. True to his word, Laray already had removed the boxes for storage later. She could totally relax and give herself to the celebration service. She slid in beside her mother just as the organ began the first carol. In her heart was the feeling this was a Christmas to be long remembered.

  CHAPTER

  Eight

  Christine made one more trip to Danny’s room to check on him before retiring. It had been another busy day, and she was weary. The next day was Sunday, and after the morning service, she would enjoy a day of relaxation and rest. Her folks, with Uncle Jon and Aunt Mary, were to leave in the afternoon for the drive back to Calgary. In a way Christine was reluctant to see them go. She wished she were going with them, at the same time she was looking forward to the week with her new nephew. But with no school classes for Danny to attend over the Christmas holidays, she just wasn’t sure how they would fill their days together.

  Danny was sound asleep, his new Christmas car tucked up close. Christine gently removed it and put it on his dresser. Seems to me Henry would have been wiser to get you a teddy bear, she thought to herself. A much better bed partner.

  She tucked the covers over the chubby shoulders and left the room. She had planned to begin the new novel her mother had given her for Christmas, but she felt too sleepy to even think about it. With one last trip to the front door to make sure it was locked securely, she flipped off the light.

  A car engine purred to life, and just as she peered through the curtain, a police cruiser moved off down the street. Had Laray been intending to call but changed his mind when the light went out? She stood in the darkened room and wondered once again if she was relieved or disappointed.

  The days with Danny went better than Christine would have dared to hope. He was an easy child to care for. She did get a little weary of reading the same book over and over. And it was a bit tiring playing Snakes and Ladders a dozen times a day—but for the most part the two got on famously.

  Either in the morning after a hearty breakfast or in the afternoon while the sun was at its best, they went out for a walk. Christine found herself making snow angels and drawing patterns in the whiteness. They tried to build a snowman, but the snow was too crisp and cold and wouldn’t mold properly. They had to content themselves instead with heaping up piles for a make-do snow fort.

  On Wednesday Laray appeared at the door. “How’s it going?” he asked casually, and Christine nodded that things were just fine and invited him in.

  “Good. I wondered if you were tired of your own cookin’ yet.”

  “She’s a good cook,” piped up Danny, who was on the floor playing with his car.

  Laray did not mention the cooking again but dropped on the floor beside Danny. “Hey—that’s a swell car.”

  “My dad gave it to me. For Christmas.”

  “It’s almost as good as my cruiser.”

  “Better.”

  “Well, maybe it is at that. Let’s see.”

  Laray gave the toy car a careful inspection.

  “I think you’re right. It is better.” He handed the car back to Danny. “Wish I had one like it. We could play cars together.”

  “You could use my old one.”

  “Now, there’s an idea.”

  Danny ran to get his old car, and Laray flipped over and stretched out on the floor. Christine thought he looked tired. With Henry away, he had drawn extra duty. She took a chair nearby.

  “How have things been going at the office? Any major— what do you call them—happenings?”

  “Nothing too serious.” He turned his head to look at her. “All the same, I’ll be glad when the boss is back.”

  Christine spoke on sudden impulse and just as quickly regretted her words. “Look—why don’t you stay and have supper with us?”

  Now, why did I go and do that? she inwardly chided herself as she rose from her chair. Not that she was concerned there would be enough for three. She had made plenty. It was just that it might send Laray the wrong message.

  But it was too late. He was already smiling. “You twisted my arm. I’d love to.”

  Danny came running back with his old car, which he handed to Laray. “My new one’s lots more better,” he said, sounding apologetic. “We can take turns.”

  “Hey, this one suits me just fine. I don’t have to worry none about denting a fender.”

  Christine left for the kitchen. As she worked she heard the two playing. She wasn’t sure which one was having more fun. A game of cars must be one thing that a fellow never outgrew.

  The game continued right to the supper table. The cars were parked only when they bowed their heads for grace.

  Danny felt perfectly at ease with Laray, so he kept up a constant chatter during the meal. Christine felt relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to try to make conversation.

  Laray insisted on drying the dishes.

  “It’s fine,” Christine protested. “You have to get back to work.”

  “I’m done for the day.”

  “Oh.” There seemed little else to say.

  But it wasn’t as bad as she had feared. Laray talked easily about Henry and his work at the RCMP office. Christine found herself listening carefully to all the compliments paid to her older brother.

  “He’s always been like that,” she found herself saying.

  “Conscientious and caring.”

  Laray hung up the dish towel. “I’d add another ‘c’ word.

  Confident. Not . . . not arrogant. But confident. It makes a big difference when your boss is sure of himself. I’ve never seen him in a flap yet. Delaney—Henry just calmly goes about doing whatever it is that needs to be done.”

  Christine wrung out the dishcloth, thinking about what Laray had said. She knew that traditionally the Mounties called each other by their last names. She briefly wondered if “Laray” was his first or last name. Then she said, “I’ve never really thought about Henry that way—but you’re right. Maybe he learned that from Dad. That’s the way Dad has always been.”

  “You have great folks.”

  Christine nodded. “They are.”


  “I lost my dad when I was six.” It was said without emotion, yet the statement tore at Christine’s heart. An image of little Danny flashed through her mind. What he had lost—and now had found.

  “What happened?”

  “He was a logger. Got caught in a jam.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Mom married again—when I was seven.”

  Christine waited. Was the new father good—or bad— news?

  “He was a good guy. Even saw that we got to church.”

  Relieved, she moved to place the dried dishes back in the cupboard.

  “We got along okay—but it wasn’t the same as having my dad. He fed us and clothed us and never mistreated us—but he didn’t give us much attention. Guess that would have been too much to expect. Eventually there were five more kids added to the family. That’s about as thin as love can spread.”

  Christine wished to argue, but she didn’t know what to say or how to say it.

  “Anyway, we made out okay. I’ve got two older sisters and an older brother and another two sisters younger than me. That was in the first family. We all turned out all right.”

  “That’s a big family,” commented Christine, mentally doing the arithmetic. “Eleven children. Wow!”

  “It was a houseful.”

  Danny returned with a picture book. “Did you see this big truck? It hauls logs and stuff.” He thrust the book toward Laray.

  “Let’s take a look.”

  They left the kitchen together, and Christine finished putting away the dishes and slowly removed her apron. She wondered what they were going to do with the rest of the evening. Surely Laray was not expecting to be entertained. She could hear him now adding another log to the fire. With a deep breath she steeled herself and walked in to join them.

  She was surprised when he asked, “Anything you want to do? I’d be glad to look after Danny if you want to step out for some fresh air—or anything.”

  Christine thought quickly. She would welcome this unexpected “time off ”—but she had no idea how she might use the opportunity. The stores were by now all closed for the day. There was really no one she knew here whom she wished to visit. It seemed foolish to just go for a walk in the dark. She finally shook her head.