Christmas Peril. Margaret Daley

don’t lock their doors.”

      “Yeah, I’m trying to convince them to lock them at least at night, but most of the older folks never have.” Caleb paused, his intense gaze skimming her face. “That includes Sara.”

      “I know. That’s when we had the discussion last night about not locking the doors. I did. I told her I couldn’t sleep with one eye open.” When she did sleep, which had been little lately. “Are you staying for dinner?”

      “Of course. I could smell that stew the second your daughter opened the front door. I didn’t even have to beg Sara. She asked when I set foot in the living room.”

      “How did you know it was stew?”

      A gleam twinkled in his eyes. “I looked.”

      Annie stopped at the bottom of the back steps and swung around to watch her daughter. “Jayden, it’s time to go in.”

      Her daughter trudged toward the stoop with the dog bouncing across the yard much like the rubber ball he held in his mouth had.

      Five minutes later, Annie entered the living room after checking on the stew in the Crock-Pot and setting the table. Sara sat in her favorite lounge chair while Jayden sprawled on the area rug, busily drawing a picture of Ralph stretched out before the fireplace.

      “Caleb, would you be a dear and build a fire?” Sara pulled the edges of her shawl together.

      “Sure. I’ll need to move some of the items away from the fireplace.”

      Jayden leaped to her feet. “I’ll help.” She headed straight for the figure of the baby Jesus, gently lifting it from the manger and cradling it against her as if she were playing with one of her dolls that she’d had to leave in Crystal Creek. “Miss Sara says I can hold him. But I hafta to be real careful.”

      “Are you sure, Sara?” Annie held her breath watching her child handling the eighteen-inch-long figurine, beautifully painted.

      “She’s fine.”

      “Here, hon, I’ll move the manger for you.” Annie tried not to think about the things they’d left behind in the rented apartment. And according to Trey, all destroyed because someone had searched and trashed her place. Looking for what?

      A thoughtful expression slashed her daughter’s face. “What’s a manger?”

      “Child, it’s a place where animals eat.” Sara rubbed her hands together.

      “Why was baby Jesus put in one?”

      “Because there was nowhere else for Mary to give birth to Him. The inn—motels were full, so they stayed in a stable.” Caleb stacked the logs on the grate then turned the gas on and put a match to it. Flames burst about the wood.

      Jayden tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows crunched together. “But isn’t Jesus special? He should have a big bed.”

      “Yeah, Jesus is special, but He didn’t mind the manger.” Caleb rose and caught Annie’s look.

      In that moment she knew she had let her daughter down. She might be upset with the Lord because He wasn’t answering her prayers, but she should have at least given her child a chance to learn about Him so she would be able to make up her own mind when she was older. At breakfast this morning Sara had talked about going to church on Sunday and had asked them to go.

      At one time she had believed that all things were possible through God. She’d been active in her youth group at church, had gone on mission trips. Then she’d made wrong choices when her father had walked out on the family. She’d thrust herself into a murky pattern of self-destruction. She was thankful Jayden’s birth stopped that slippery slope downward. But was the Lord mad at her because of her actions?

      “Give me about five minutes to get the dinner on the table.” Annie averted her gaze and hurried from the room. She wouldn’t be using that excuse on Sunday; she needed to take her daughter to church.

      In the kitchen she had begun spooning the stew into a serving bowl when Caleb came in.

      “Here, let me help.” He held the Crock-Pot over the bowl so she could slide the stew into it. “Are you okay?”

      “No. I just realized what an injustice I have done to my daughter. I should have taken her to church, but I was angry with God. I still am.”

      “Why?”

      “My life wasn’t going the way I thought it should. I prayed and prayed for help, but He didn’t answer me. I was basically alone, struggling to pay my bills, raising my daughter with little support…” When she realized what she was telling him, she peered at him to read his expression. Compassion greeted her look.

      “What happened to Jayden’s dad?”

      “He’s dead.”

      “I’m sorry. That makes it tough.”

      If you only knew.

      Caleb set the Crock-Pot on the counter and took her hands. “Look at coming to Christmas as a fresh start. The Lord hasn’t forgotten you. He doesn’t. He answers in His time, not ours. I’d love for you and Jayden to come to church with me on Sunday.”

      For a few seconds Annie couldn’t concentrate enough to form a coherent reply to his invitation. All her senses were centered on the feel of his hands around hers, the rough texture of his thumb rubbing her skin, his spicy scent wafting to her, putting to shame the aromas of the stew and rolls baking.

      “Will you come, Annie?”

      She stepped back, grabbing for the pot holders to take the bread out of the oven. “Sara said something about it.” She didn’t want to care for Caleb. She would be moving on when she could come up with a plan. She needed to return to the library and begin researching how to get lost and stay hidden.

      “That’s okay. We go to the same one. I’ll come by and pick everyone up.”

      The next afternoon, late, Caleb rang the bell at Sara’s. He really didn’t have an excuse for visiting, but he was here because he found himself drawn to Annie and Jayden. Since his father’s death last year, he’d been going through the motions of living, but something was missing. He wanted a marriage like his parents had.

      Whoa. He’d gone from thinking about Annie to thinking about marriage. He still couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong with Annie. Had someone hurt her? Her deceased husband?

      Annie swung the door open. “Hi.” Her smile encompassed her whole face, pushing away the vulnerability he’d glimpsed for a few seconds. Now he realized why he was here. He wanted to pump Sara about information concerning Annie. The investigator in him couldn’t let go of the fact Annie was harboring pain. He wanted to know what caused it and help.

      “What brings you by?”

      He pulled his thoughts back to the task at hand. “I came to see Sara.”

      “Oh, that sounds serious. Is there a problem?”

      He schooled his expression into a neutral one, hoping he hadn’t given anything away. “No.” He should elaborate, but what could he say to Annie? I’ve come to find out all I can about you and what made you visit a relative suddenly right before Christmas. One you haven’t seen in fifteen years.

      “Were there any more teenage pranks pulled last night?”

      “All’s calm right now. I issued my warning to the one I think is behind it. Hopefully he heeds it. If not, I may sic the mayor on him,” Caleb said with a laugh as he crossed the threshold.

      “Is that your secret weapon?”

      “No, my art of persuasion is.”

      Annie closed the door. “Sara is in the living room in her usual place.”

      “Are you going out?” He noticed she had her coat on, her purse sitting on the table