Only I wanted to be the one out hunting buffalo, not the one staying behind at the covered wagon to bake biscuits.”
To her surprise, Josh reached for her hand and cradled it gently. His touch was light, yet Whitney felt the effects of it all the way from the top of her head to her toes.
With the fingers of his opposite hand he traced the scars as if the injuries were fresh and he was seeking to heal them. “Sounds like you were as fearless back then as you are now,” he said softly.
Whitney was rendered speechless. She opened her mouth but no sound escaped. The timbre of his voice was low, enthralling, and when he raised his gaze to meet hers she felt shivers dance along her spine. Was she truly fearless? If so, she was selective in her courage because right now, at this precise moment, she felt as if she might keel over in a dead faint.
It was the thought of that kind of embarrassment that brought her to her senses. She pulled her hand from his. Stepped back. Managed a smile, although she was unsure whether it was convincingly constructed or ludicrous.
“Thanks, I think.” Pivoting to face the music, she urged him to do the same. “Listen. You can hear Matt’s voice. It’s beautiful.”
When Josh didn’t comment she turned back to him and was startled by his strange expression. He was staring, not at the gazebo where the singers were massed, but at her.
The icy night air was so electrified between them, Whitney half expected to see real sparks arcing like the impressive emissions of lightning from a Jacob’s ladder in a physics lab.
The park and its occupants faded into the background.
The sound of the music drifted away.
Twinkling lights in the trees blurred until they were nothing more than a faint glow.
Whitney saw Josh take a purposeful step toward her. She held her breath, wondering what he was planning to do.
He slowly raised one hand and drew his finger down the side of her cheek as if he were tracing her portrait and needed to outline it perfectly.
She trembled but stood her ground.
Their eyes met. Gazes held.
Josh’s quirky, half smile was only for her.
“Matt’s voice isn’t the only beautiful thing,” he whispered. “There’s something about you tonight that I’ve never noticed before. Something very special.”
So nervous she could barely think, let alone come off sounding lucid and intelligent, Whitney employed her usual method of self-defense. She resorted to humor.
“Must be the cookies,” she quipped. “I am so full of sugar I should be climbing the walls.” She offered a playful smile. “Except we’re outside and there aren’t any. Walls, I mean.”
Josh’s laugh sounded uneasy, as if he were just as glad as she was to end their extraordinary moment. “In that case, see if you can find me a couple of the same kind you ate, will you? I suspect I may need all the energy I can muster to keep up with the workings of your brain.”
“Cookies won’t help,” Whitney told him with a wide grin. “I may be a lousy cook but I have a mind like a steel trap.” She was chuckling. “Of course, there are times when its jaws snap shut for no reason and I forget to reset it.”
Josh was shaking his head in the wake of the inane analogy. He turned away and climbed back into the van, ostensibly to check the warmer, leaving Whitney standing alone by the serving table.
Why had she made a silly joke about a very nice compliment? Why was it so hard to accept one coming from Josh? Was it because their previous encounters had been so fraught with tension? Or could it be because she was starting to like him far too much and realized how little she really knew about him?
Either was possible. Only one had a solution. If he continued to hide his past she would have to start digging deeper and casting a wider net, excuse the clichés.
The hardest part of her plan would be accepting whatever she discovered, when all she really wanted was to return to the moment when he had touched her and relive it, over and over and over.
Chapter Five
Bygones’s mayor, Martin Langston, was introduced by Pastor Hugh Garman, Matt’s grandfather, as soon as the caroling ended.
Leaning on his cane, Langston took the portable microphone in his free hand and began. “Wonderful music, Reverend.” Waiting for the applause of the crowd to die down, he then added, “I’ve given the signal to light our town tree so many times I suspect I could do it blindfolded, yet every year I find I have the same thoughts when this time comes.”
Josh had gotten out of the van and meandered along with the rest of the assemblage, including Whitney, to gather around the gazebo. It pleased him that she didn’t seem startled when he leaned closer to her shoulder and asked, “Do I sense a speech?”
“Undoubtedly.” Smiling, she gave him a brief glance. “I can just about quote it from memory. But the mayor is sincere and loyal. Considering that he doesn’t get paid for all the things he does for this town, I guess he’s entitled to grab what little limelight he can.”
The rotund, graying mayor’s oration was continuing, earning benevolent smiles and nods from his audience. He paused for effect, then concluded with “We must always remember the true reason for Christmas and keep our Savior’s birth as the primary focus of our celebration, in spite of enjoying all the other benefits we share, both here, tonight, and in our homes.” He harumphed. “And remember, shop in Bygones!”
Josh applauded along with the others. He’d been so caught up in Whitney’s nearness he’d missed most of the speech until the end. That part, he definitely agreed with. Being a merchant, even when his store was not his real livelihood, had shown him the importance of seasonal festivities. His net had improved so much lately there was a chance the Cozy Cup Café would actually start to show a decent profit. A profit he had not expected.
Which meant he could soon sell the shop and leave town as planned, without feeling guilty. He certainly didn’t want to cheat new owners. He would never misrepresent his success—or lack of it. Of course, whoever took over would need to be pretty good with computers to keep all the stations working. That meant it might be difficult to find just the right buyer.
The thought of actually leaving Bygones struck a blow to his consciousness that took him aback. He had always intended to restore Main Street for his mother’s sake, then walk away, so why was that notion suddenly making him edgy? It was as if that perfectly logical plan was no longer suitable.
How could that be? He was a totally rational guy. A man who set his mind on a goal and accomplished it. Which he had done, according to the reports all the other grant recipients had submitted to his auditors via the dummy corporation.
His gaze rested on Whitney, taking in her fair, blond hair and noting the way it draped in silky waves over the bulk of the bluish scarf around her neck. She was short enough that he could have easily rested his chin on the top of her head and wrapped her in a warm embrace. A few other couples, like Vivian Duncan and Chase Rollins, were doing exactly that and looked blissfully happy.
The urge to reach for Whitney was strong. His
