Chapter Seven

"Linc?"

Linc stopped and turned back when he heard Wes call his name. For some reason that he couldn't fathom, he wanted to talk with Claire McAllister and listen to her tell him how to raise his children.

Except that wasn't the way of it at all. She'd been worried about them. Worried that something was wrong and that they needed help. They did…all of them did. And she was the only one to step up and say something.

And what had he done? Told her to leave and all but tossed her off his property. The only thanks he did manage to offer was for her help in making the girls' dresses for the Christmas play.

"Where were you headed?' asked Wes.

Linc shook his head and gave Wes his full attention. "Nowhere special. Just trying to keep my feet from freezing."

From the way Wes was hunched into his coat, his head down, and hands in his pocket, Linc knew something wasn't right.

"Abigail's not coming."

Linc closed his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath that curled around his face before dissipating into the night sky. Not only had he left the girls at home but he had to coerce his sister to stay with them only to come out on a frigid night just to court a woman who may not be interested.

You're doing this for the girls , a small voice reminded him.

"Maybe I can—"

"No, Wes." Linc cut him off before he could say something more. "I can take care of this on my own." Tomorrow he would head over to Abigail Tully's place and talk with her about courting.

"Who roped you into coming to the Christmas Stroll?" Linc touched the flame of his candle to Claire's, wondering if Betsy knew something he didn't.

"Mary." She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head toward her cousin. "She said since I was now part of the community I had to experience it. Too bad they couldn't have picked a warmer evening. Or a different activity. Singing is not something I particularly enjoy."

Surprised that they had something in common, Linc was just about to say something when Pastor Cullins clapped his hands, garnering their attention.

"Good evening, friends. A warm welcome to you all on this cold night. For our newcomers, this Christmas Stroll is an annual event meant to foster goodwill toward our friends and neighbors. We will travel both sides of the street, singing a variety of carols, religious and secular. The evening will end back here at the mercantile. Let us begin with a short prayer followed by ‘O Come All Ye Faithful'. "

The crowd huddled closer together if for no other reason than to keep warm, and Linc found himself pressed shoulder to shoulder with Claire. Standing near a shaft of light coming from a nearby building, he noticed that she wore a green coat which brought out the gold and brown highlights in her eyes.

Linc sensed the crowd moving forward, but to him, it seemed like he and Claire were all alone. He reached out a gloved hand to brush away the dark wisps that framed her face, wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked. The flame from her candle caught her eyes as she watched him.

As strange and unsettling thoughts began to race through him, he wondered if they could find some middle ground. How different would it be if he stopped being angry with her and she stopped bossing him around?

Linc took a step back and looked away. Claire lowered her gaze and cleared her throat.

"I should find Mary," she muttered.

"Yeah, and I should find Wes." But surprisingly, he would rather spend time with Claire rather than his childhood friend. "Or we could just continue walking together."

A smile trembled over her lips. "That would be nice."

As the notes of the next song floated into the air, he reminded himself again of the phrase ‘ He who sings, prays twice.' Well, he certainly could use more prayers as he joined in the chorus. Plus, with all the people singing, he hoped his caterwauling wasn't obvious.

After an hour, and more songs than he could count, they arrived at the mercantile. While most got in their wagons or sleighs, a few of the younger carolers took off on foot.

Linc started for his sleigh, then looked around. He wanted to say goodnight to Claire and tell her how much he enjoyed the night. But on second thought, it seemed too—

"Linc!"

With one foot in the sleigh, he turned as she hurried toward him. Even in the muted darkness, he could see the alarm in her expression. "What's wrong?"

"It seems my sister has forgotten that we came together."

Having been raised as a gentleman, Linc knew his mother would pitch a fit if he didn't help a lady in distress. "I'll be happy to take you home, Claire."

"Are you sure it wouldn't be too much trouble?"

Linc held out his hand. "None at all. It's not often I get to play a knight in shining armor to rescue a fair maiden."

Her cheeks colored under the heat of his gaze as he helped her into the sleigh. "You're familiar with the tales of King Arthur and the knights?"

Linc shrugged. "I read whatever I can get my hands on. But I like adventure books best."

"I have several by Charles Dickens. You may borrow them if you like," he heard her say as he jogged around to the driver's side of the sleigh.

Only a handful of people were still chatting when he helped Claire into the sleigh, but those who were, stared at him and the schoolteacher.

Let them talk , a small voice urged. Just think how surprised they'll be when they find out you're courting Abigail Tully.

Fully aware that her body touched his from her shoulder to her hip, Linc was both comfortable and tense. He reasoned they were comfortable around each other because there was no reason not to be. It wasn't as if they were courting. The tension came from the fact that she was the only one besides himself and the girls who ever rode in the sleigh. What had possessed him to make the offer in the first place ? Maybe it's her rosy cheeks or her sparkling green eyes or her very kissable lips , a small voice teased.

Mentally, he shook away the taunts. What's done is done. "Are you warm enough?"

She nodded but when he felt a shiver run through her, he reached behind him and pulled a quilt from the back seat. "This should keep the chill away."

Claire unfolded the quilt and spread it over her, leaving a generous portion for him. Noticing a large tear in one of the squares, he bunched the fabric and tucked it under his knee.

Whether Claire didn't see it or chose not to mention it, he was grateful for her discretion. Like it or not, this was another reason why he needed a wife.

It was time, he admitted, that he needed looking after as much as the girls did.

"Thank you, Claire."

Her expression stilled and grew perplexed. "For what?"

He cast a quick look in her direction. He could barely make out her features in the dim moonlight let alone read her expression.

"For caring about my daughters. For not giving up even though I chased you away. For making their dresses. For understanding why they did what they did to their faces and clothes."

Her laugh rippled through the frigid night air. "I'm flattered that they went to such lengths to get my attention."

"Thank you for being understanding about that."

"I hope you realize that your girls love you very much, Linc."

"I know I'm truly blessed with the gift of my girls." They are deserving of a mother who will love and care for them.

Before too long, Linc pulled up in front of the house Claire shared with her sister and then went around to help her down. The moonlight washed her in a silvery glow that made her appear ethereal. Rather like the angel atop their tree in the sitting room.

Time seemed to stand still. Not even the wind stirred as they stood there, facing each other. The urge to reach out and touch her was so strong he trembled with longing. How easy it would be to lift his hand and test the softness of her skin.

She appeared as caught up in the moment as he was. Their breath plumed in the cold air as they stood facing what might come next. A touch? A caress? A kiss?

"I appreciate the ride home, Linc." There was a gentle softness in the words that broke through the mist that surrounded them.

His eyes caught hers. "It was my pleasure, Claire."

She nodded and turned, making her way to the house. He watched her climb the steps with a feeling of desire and disappointment.

She was his daughters' teacher, pretty, and though she appeared about his age, had never been married.

He ran a hand over his face. Between the workload, the girls, and thoughts of getting married again, he was flat-out tired. He had to believe that was why he was having these crazy thoughts about Claire McAllister.

She turned and gave him a little wave before she disappeared into the house.

Shaking his head to loosen the cobwebs collecting there, Linc eased back into the sleigh and headed back home.

It was better this way.

Claire closed the door quietly behind her in case Mary was sleeping. On second thought, perhaps she should open it and slam it closed as payment for deserting her at the Christmas Stroll.

Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned against the door wondering what had just happened. Or didn't as the case may be. Had Lincoln Wyse almost kissed her? The sleigh ride under a moonlit winter sky and with hundreds of stars shining like diamonds was…magical. There was no other word for it. Was there a web of attraction building between them, like the poets who wrote about love so often stated?

Or maybe it was wishful thinking on her part. What would handsome Linc Wyse want with a spinster schoolteacher like her?

"Claire?"

"Yes, it's me." She opened her eyes as Mary shuffled into the sitting room, dressed in her slippers and nightclothes.

"Did you enjoy the Christmas Str—Jingles! Did something happen? Tell me."

Claire pushed her woolen hood off her head, then began unbuttoning her paletot. "Nothing happened."

"Well, something must have. Take off the rest of your things. I'll get you a cup of tea. I want to hear all about it." Before she could protest, Mary was dragging her into the kitchen.

"Nothing happened," Claire repeated as Mary slid a steaming cup of bergamot tea in front of her. She wrapped her hands around it, absorbing its warmth and spicy aroma. Yet, she still felt chilled. Maybe she was on the verge of getting a cold.

Mary dropped into the opposite chair and rested her chin on her hand, a bemused smile on her lips. "Did Linc bring you home?"

Claire's eyes narrowed. "I knew it. You planned this, didn't you? You left me stranded on the coldest night of the year."

"I don't know what you mean." Yet, her devious smile belied her words.

"Well, at least Linc was kind enough to take me home. Otherwise, I might have frozen to death since my dear sister abandoned me." She crossed her arms and glared at Mary.

"I heard from Wes Harty that he's planning on courting Abigail Tully. That's why he was there tonight"

She sighed, then gave a resigned shrug at the news. But the knowledge twisted and turned inside her. Did Abigail realize how much Linc loved his girls? Did she know he had a good heart hidden beneath his grumpy exterior? "I'm not getting married," she said reminding her sister and herself of that fact. She needed to remember that when the night turned magical.

"What would you do if I were to get married again?"

Claire sat up straight, her voice rising in surprise. "Is this something you're considering?"

Mary didn't answer immediately and to Claire's way of thinking, she was considering it. "Well, if I was, I wouldn't tell you. But if I did, what would you do?"

Her mind whirled with confusion, shifting through her sister's puzzling words. "I suppose I would just live here."

"You'd live alone?"

She closed her eyes. A deep unaccustomed pain quickly extinguished the spark of hope she'd felt when she was sitting by Linc's side. She'd become a woman facing the harsh realities of loneliness and facing an empty house every night. If Mary was asking about her plans, perhaps she was thinking of living here after her marriage with her new husband...whoever he may be.

"Going back to Baltimore doesn't hold much appeal," she said with far more enthusiasm than she felt. "Why are we talking about something that hasn't happened?"

"I just think you should give it some thought…just in case."