A Splash of Christmas Page 3

  “No. I—”

  “Hear me out for a sec.” Avery uncrossed her arms and lifted a palm in traffic-cop style. “I know you, Faith. You wouldn’t spend so much as a cent of that money the Wards are offering for this deal on yourself. But just think of all you could manage for the kids with ten-thousand dollars.”

  “I…” Faith drew a single, deep breath as the scent of lilacs drifted along with the voices of children who continued to play on the side lawn. Ten-thousand dollars…that was more than she could manage to procure for the Christmas party in a month’s worth of phone solicitations. It could buy gifts for every child, a magical party complete with their favorite meal, perhaps even an extra surprise or two. She glanced at the list tacked to her bulletin board. So many requests by the children…so much need. The idea of participating in the show filled the need perfectly, and yet… “I don’t know, Avery. It’s Ben Ward.”

  “Yes, it is.” Avery nibbled the tip of a manicured nail. “And it’s only one episode, nothing more. You said so yourself. Surely you can manage a few hours in a studio or sitting poolside. It’s not that hard, Faith.”

  “That’s true, but even so…”

  “If God does have a hand in this, who knows what might happen, where it all might lead?”

  “God is busy with things that are much more important than an episode of Poolside Oasis.”

  “This is important, too. He opened this door for you, however uncomfortable it might be to walk through. Remember what you once told me…that faith doesn’t make things easy, it simply makes them possible.”

  “Right…Luke 1:37.” Butterflies danced through Faith’s belly. There was no backing out of this…Avery, as usual, had a solid point.

  “And that kiss—”

  “Forget the kiss.” The butterfly dance morphed to a kickboxing match. Faith pressed a hand to her mid-section. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “I’ll forget said kiss if you do, but my guess is it’s going to linger for a while…a long while—and not just with you.” Avery winked playfully. “At least read over the papers Harry handed you and then talk to him…to Ben. What can it hurt to uncover all the details and get your ducks in a neat little row?”

  “Nothing, I suppose.” Faith slipped a hand into her purse, fingering the sheaf of papers Harry had insisted she take as she fled from the audition room. “You know what, Ave? Though it pains me greatly to admit it, you’re right.”

  “No surprise there. I’m always right.” Avery tossed an arm across Faith’s shoulders as they turned to continue up the sidewalk. “And it’s a good thing, too, because here comes the man of the hour.”

  “The man of the hour?”

  “Yes…the Poolside Oasis reality show hour. It’s Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself—Ben Ward.”

  ~*~

  “So this is where you spend the bulk of your days?” Ben leaned in the doorway of Faith’s office, crossing his arms over his chest as he spoke. The scent of pine drifted as a ceramic snowman stood watch from the corner of a cluttered polished-wood desktop. Apparently, it was Christmas in…September? “Nice.”

  “It’s modest but it’s mine…so long as I stay off probation.”

  “You’re on probation?” The words came up on a cough. “Please tell me it’s the job kind and not the I’m-in-trouble-with-the-law kind.”

  “I’d prefer it wasn’t either kind, but choice A fits well.”

  “Why’s that? What happened to put you in the hot seat?”

  “You should know, since your lack of follow-through played an integral part in my job-related woes.”

  “My lack…what on earth is that supposed to mean?”

  “The Spring event that was scheduled here last March…the fundraiser where you were slated as the star keynote speaker, except the whole shebang failed miserably because you backed out just a day or so before the event was scheduled to begin, and I had a tough time finding a replacement popular enough to fill those big shoes of yours. Very few people showed up, and the silent auction portion of the evening—the part of the event that garners the bulk of revenue—tanked as a result of the poor attendance. We’re still struggling to make up lost ground.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember.” Ben raked a hand through his hair as memories from that evening came rushing back. “Man, I’m really sorry about that.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “There were extenuating circumstances.” Yet the pain in Faith’s eyes gave Ben pause. Was the tug on his heart the result of tears gathered that turned the green to emeralds, or was his heart simply reacting to the sense of defeat the events of that evening had brought? There was no way to be sure, so he cleared his throat and steeled his voice. “Circumstances I’m betting you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “Not now…not like this.”

  “In that case”—she flicked her hand at him and then turned to open the door to a small closet set off to the side of the room—“I’m sure there were circumstances you deemed acceptable and you’re right, I probably wouldn’t understand any excuse you might possibly conjure at this moment to explain your utterly callous no-show.” Faith turned from the closet with a pair of bubblegum-pink flip flops in one hand. “Anyway, the office isn’t exactly the great outdoors that you enjoy on a daily basis, but it serves its purpose.”

  “Oh, I do some office work, as well as dig in the dirt and handle large machinery.”

  “Big boy toys, right?”

  Her green eyes glinted like polished gemstones, and Ben was sure the shimmer was the result of tears. OK, he was sure now…the tug on his heart was a direct result of his reaction to her tears. Ben clenched one fist at his side and grimaced.

  “With the way you back out of speaking engagements, I’m sure you have plenty of time to file loads of business-related paperwork and count stacks of cash.” She rounded the desk and settled into her chair before slipping the flip-flops onto her feet. “Only they don’t show that part on TV.”

  “Yeah, well…” Ben crossed the room to her desk, cleared the clutter from a corner, and settled one hip against the wood before crossing his arms to hide his clenched fists. “There’s a lot they don’t show. It’s not by my choice. Harry takes care of the footage and keeps track of the ebb and flow of the ratings. We make adjustments according to what works and what doesn’t.”

  “Do you expect me to feel sorry for you?”

  “No, I don’t need—or want—your sympathy. Office work is simply part of my line of business…albeit a part I’m not particularly fond of. And the money, well, I work hard for it. Is that a crime?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Since that’s settled…” Ben rolled then tension from his shoulders, stood once more, and crossed toward the open window. A breeze drifted around a box fan set into the frame, carrying the scent of lilac. He breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet scent that mingled with Faith’s citrusy perfume. She did something to him…something he found altogether unsettling. “We do our best to stay true to form but network TV…well, it’s an animal all its own.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Those kids…” Ben motioned toward the side yard where a group of boys in cut-off shorts and T-shirts played follow the leader through the sprinklers. “They sure could use something more than a few meager sprays of water to run through on a day like this. Have you ever considered a pool?”

  “Sure I’ve considered it—for all of about eight seconds. Let’s just say it’s completely out of the realm of possibilities with the budget we maintain here at Mountain Light.”

  “Not if you know the right people.”

  “Is that what you are, Ben…the right people?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just”—he spread his arms wide, expelling a deep breath—“me.”

  “And I’m just me. So where does that leave us?”

  “With a show to film, I guess.”

  “Yes, that’s right. And I’ve made up
my mind. I’m going to do it, though the effort may very well scar me for life.”

  “Very dramatic bent. Harry was right…you’re perfect for the part.” Ben shoved his hands into his pockets as he leveled his gaze on her. “Since you feel so…strongly, I’ve made a decision, as well.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. If we’re going to film this crazy segment together then we’re going to get to know one another first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ll start with dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “That’s right—tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven. I assume you’ll be done here and home by then?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Your friend, Avery, gave me your address.”

  “She did not. I’ll—”

  “Thank her later.”

  “Aren’t you the bossy one? I’ll bet you’re used to getting your way.”

  If she only knew…

  “Call it what you’d like.” Ben glanced at the flip-flops on her feet. “There’s just one more thing. I’d appreciate it if you’d wear some sort of compromise between those fluffy bubble-gum things and the ridiculous pair of stilts that came close to tossing you on your hind-quarters in the audition room.”

  “Sure.” Faith’s tears had dried and now her smile blazed sugary-sweet as saccharine. “I’ll…surprise you.”

  4

  “So, how long have you been involved with Mountain Light Children’s Home?” Ben asked as he and Faith strolled the boulevard following dinner. A light breeze drifted while moonlight fingered through the limbs of majestic maples lining the walk, casting a glow that turned Faith’s hair to dancing flames.

  She’d surprised Ben, all right. The sundress in an appealing floral pattern hugged her curves in all the right places while sandals managed to compliment the length of her legs while she kept pace at his side.

  “I’ve been involved, so to speak, since I was ten-and-a-half.”

  “Really?” Ben placed a hand on the back of her arm as they crossed the street. “How so?”

  “I lived there until I turned eighteen, and then left for a while for college. Now, I’ve returned as the director of finance.”

  “You lived there? Why?”

  Faith sighed.

  “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

  “It’s OK. I don’t mind sharing.” Faith ran her fingertips through her hair, smoothing the strands from her cheek. “My parents died in a car accident and my grandmother cared for me as long as she could manage…until she became too sick to continue.”

  “There was no one else?”

  “No. No one.” Faith shook her head slightly. “But Mountain Light was a blessing, truly. The people there have been good to me. They’ve taught me so much over the years. That’s why it’s so important…such a priority…for me to give back.”

  “The kids who live there now…you understand what they need?”

  “That’s right. I do. And I want to fill that need as much as I’m able, with God’s help and guidance.”

  “Ah…God…”

  “You don’t believe in Him?”

  “I do. I just don’t always agree with Him.”

  “That’s normal.”

  “So you think I’m normal?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Her laughter danced on the breeze. “No…you’re a case study, for sure.”

  “And just when I thought I was beginning to persuade you…”

  “It will take more than dinner and a stroll through town.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’d like to go into that shop across the street. I think it may have something I need.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Let’s see…” Faith delved into her purse and drew out a slip of paper. She unfolded it to reveal a typed list. “Yes, a music box with a ballerina that spins. I think I spotted one in the window as we walked by earlier. Cassie put it on her wish list.”

  “Cassie?”

  “Yes, Cassie Trainor. She’s thirteen and lives in cottage three. She wants to be a ballerina when she grows up and she penciled the music box—including very specific details—into her Christmas in July Wish List.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “OK, I’ll backtrack for a minute here.” Faith settled into a wrought iron bench at the street corner. How could she make Ben understand the desires of a girl who was old enough to know the score, yet still young enough to believe all of her dreams might come true? “Sit with me while I explain.”

  “Sure.” Ben eased in beside Faith and propped an ankle over the opposite knee. “I’m all ears.”

  “OK, then. The process begins in July when I have all the kids fill out a list—the Christmas in July Wish List—with their top picks for Christmas gifts.”

  “That early? Isn’t it pushing things a bit?”

  “We have a lot of kids to shop for at the home, and some of their wishes make it to the Angel Tree, so we have to start the ball rolling early.”

  “I see. That makes sense. I never thought of it that way.”

  “Unless you’ve lived it, you’d have no reason to.” Faith shifted, smoothing her skirt. Her shoulder brushed his, setting off an unexpected wave of warmth. “I like to select some of the gifts—the ones I know will be extra-special to the child—on my own. That takes time, and Cassie’s one of those kids. She’s special, I suppose, because she reminds me so much of myself at that age. She loves to dance.”

  “You dance?”

  “No, I’m a klutz. You probably noticed my lack of grace at the audition, when I did everything but fall flat on my face.”

  “Point taken.”

  “I have trouble walking in high heels. But at Cassie’s age, I loved to sketch. I still do. So I understand her passion, and I do my best to encourage her and to mentor her at every opportunity. She has a sponsor who pays for her dance lessons and makes sure she gets where she needs to be each week. Who knows…maybe one day her dream will come true. It’s worth hoping for, isn’t it?”

  “Of course it is, and your outreach is noble. Working at Mountain Light, it’s more than a job to you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Definitely. I know, for the most part, what the kids there are going through. I know how important events such as the Christmas party are...what they mean to each child. It’s not easily dismissed.”

  “So, you must have some huge Christmas tree at the home to accommodate all those gifts.”

  “Actually, the gifts are handed out by Santa at the annual Christmas party that’s held each year on Christmas Eve. It’s a pretty big deal to the kids.”

  “And to you, I’d say.”

  “Yes…I want it to be special.”

  “Who’s your Santa?”

  “Usually Mr. MacGregor, our cook’s husband. But he’s recovering from a stroke, and I don’t think—” Faith lowered her gaze to Ben’s belly. “Hmm…you’d require quite a bit of padding but you might do.”

  “No way…oh, no.” Ben shook his head. “Uh uh.”

  “Party pooper.” Faith frowned. “This could be a way to redeem yourself, you know, for bailing on the spring fundraiser.”

  “I told you—”

  “I know what you told me, and I guess that’s reason enough to expect you wouldn’t show up for the party even if you committed to doing it.” Faith stood. “Forget I asked. I’ll find someone more…reliable.”

  “Is this reverse psychology?” Ben stood and started after her. “Because if it is, it’s not working.”

  “Good. I didn’t expect it would.”

  “OK, OK…you win this round. I’ll do it, just to prove I’m a man of my word.”

  “We’ll have to have a screen test first. Let me hear you laugh. And not just any laugh. I’ll need your best round of ho, ho, ho’s…”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  “Good grief.” Ben glanced around, saw the bo
ulevard was clear. He drew a slight breath. “Ho, ho, ho.”

  “That was pathetic. Nope, I can’t allow you to pose as the bearded man. The kids would see right through. They’re tough cookies.”

  “Really? Really?” Ben sucked in air to the limit, and then unleashed it with a vengeance. “Ho, ho, ho!”

  “Perfect.” Faith rewarded him with a flurry of claps. “That’ll do for now. You still have a few months to practice.”

  The words, a few months, gave Ben hope. So she planned to know him—to spend time with him—when the filming was completed and the segment aired. He wasn’t sure what caused the change in him but suddenly that sounded good…very, very good.

  Ben took Faith by the elbows and gently drew her to him.

  “Now it’s my turn.” He murmured as his gaze connected firmly with hers. Without another moment’s hesitation, he dipped his head and claimed her lips as moonlight spilled over them. For the length of a breath, two, he was completely and utterly lost. When he released her and stepped back, relief flooded as he saw that her gaze clearly mirrored what he felt in his heart. He found his voice once again as he grazed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Hmm…that’ll do, too, Faith—for now.”

  ~*~

  I should have worn flat heels, Faith thought as she neared the antique shop. She’d walked a good five minutes with Ben at her side, and still she felt wobbly from his kiss. He had a habit of doing that—surprising her with unexpected kisses. She should mind…but she didn’t.

  She wanted more.

  Faith chastised herself. The very thought was ridiculous. Remember, this is Ben Ward, the same fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants guy who blew off you—and the kids.

  Trusting him once again could prove dangerous.

  Not trusting him would prove worse.

  Faith turned, wondering who had spoken. The voice rang clear, steady. No one lurked behind here, simply Ben at her left side.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “I thought there was a voice. You didn’t hear it?”

  One eyebrow arched as Ben slowly shook his head. “I didn’t hear it, and ventriloquism certainly isn’t one of my talents. Maybe it was the wind.”