Falling for Christmas: A Cedar Cove Christmas / Call Me Mrs. Miracle

“Linc, please. Hold off for a few days. Please.” She hated to plead but it was Christmas and she didn’t want to see the holiday ruined for any of them. She was protecting David—again—and the irony didn’t escape her. Despite all these months of intermittent contact and broken promises, Mary Jo still felt the urge to shield him from her brothers.

But her real concern was for Linc, Mel and Ned. She didn’t want them ending up in jail because of David.

“We’re not waiting another minute!” Mel boomed. “If David’s in Cedar Cove, we’re going to track him down.”

“No. Please,” she said shakily.

“You don’t have a say in this anymore.”

“Linc, it’s my life! Listen to me. I—”

“We’ve listened to you enough,” her oldest brother said matter-of-factly. “Now the three of us have decided to take matters into our own hands.”

Mary Jo couldn’t let her brothers get involved. She shuddered as she imagined them charging into Cedar Cove on Christmas Eve, bent on forcing David to marry her.

No, she couldn’t allow that to happen. Resolute, she stood up and started for her bedroom. “We’ll finish discussing this in the morning,” she said in as dignified a voice as she could manage.

Linc seemed about to argue, but her fatigue must have shown because he hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “There’ll be no avoiding it, understand?”

“Perfectly.”

“Night, sweetie.” He threw his arms around her in a quick hug, as did Mel and then Ned.

Mary Jo slept soundly for six hours and woke in a cold sweat. She knew she’d never be able to stop her interfering brothers from invading Cedar Cove, embarrassing her and possibly doing bodily harm to David. The only solution she could think of was to get there first and warn David and/or his family.

With that in mind, Mary Jo left her brothers a note and slipped quietly out of the house.

Chapter Two

Cedar Cove was a festive little town, Mary Jo thought when she stepped off the ferry. It was a place that took Christmas seriously. Even the terminal was decorated, with bells hanging from the ceiling and large snowflakes in the windows. She’d never been here before and was pleasantly surprised by its charm. After taking the Washington State ferry from downtown Seattle to Bremerton, she’d caught the foot ferry across Sinclair Inlet to the small town David had mentioned.

He’d only talked about it that one time. She’d had the impression he didn’t like it much, but she hadn’t understood why.

She looked around.

A lighthouse stood off in the distance, picturesque against the backdrop of fir trees and the green waters of the cove. Waves rhythmically splashed the large rocks that marked the beach. Adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder and getting a tighter grip on her bag, Mary Jo walked down the pier into town.

Large evergreen boughs stretched across the main street of Cedar Cove—Harbor Street, according to the sign—and from the center of each hung a huge ornament. There were alternating wreaths, angels and candles. The lightposts were festooned with holly. The effect of all these decorations was delightful and it raised her spirits—until she remembered why she was in Cedar Cove.

It was ten in the morning on Christmas Eve, and everyone seemed to have places to go. So did Mary Jo, except that she was in no hurry to get there, and who could blame her? This was likely to be a painful confrontation.

Not sure where to start searching for David’s family and desperate to collect her thoughts, Mary Jo stopped at a coffee house called Mocha Mama’s about a block from the waterfront. This, too, was decorated and redolent of Christmas scents—fir, cinnamon, peppermint. And the rich, strong aroma of fresh coffee. The place was nearly empty. The only other person there was a young man who stood behind the counter; he was writing or drawing something in a sketchbook and appeared to be immersed in his task, whatever it was.

“Merry Christmas,” Mary Jo said cheerfully, wondering if her words sounded as forced as they felt. She pulled off her wool hat and gloves, cramming them in her pockets.

Her presence startled the young man, who wore a name tag that identified him as Shaw. He glanced up, blinked in apparent confusion, then suddenly smiled. “Sorry. Didn’t see you come in. What can I get you?”

“I’d like one of your decaf candy cane mochas, Shaw.”

“What size?”

“Oh, grande—is that what you call it here? Medium. One of those.” She pointed at a stack of cups.

His eyes went to her stomach, which protruded from the opening of her wool coat. She could no longer fasten more than the top three buttons.

“You’re gonna have a baby,” Shaw said, as if this information should be a surprise to her.

“Yes, I am.” She rested a protective hand on her belly.

Shaw began to prepare her mocha, chatting as he did. “It’s been pretty quiet this morning. Maybe ’cause it’s Christmas Eve,” he commented.

Mary Jo nodded, then took a chair by the window and watched people walk briskly past. The town seemed to be busy and prosperous, with people popping in and out of stores along the street. The bakery had quite a few customers and so did a nearby framing shop.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” Shaw said. He added whipped topping and a candy cane to her cup and handed it to her.

“I’m visiting,” Mary Jo explained as she got up to pay for her drink. Shaw seemed to be full of information; he might be just the person to ask about David. She poked a folded dollar bill into the tip jar. “Would you know any people named Rhodes in this area?” she asked speculatively, holding her drink with both hands.

“Rhodes, Rhodes,” Shaw repeated carefully. He mulled it over for a moment, then shook his head. “The name’s familiar but I can’t put a face to it.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t quite hide her disappointment. Carrying her mocha, she returned to the table by the window and gazed out at the street again. Her biggest fear was that her three brothers would come rolling into town in their huge pickup, looking like vigilantes out of some old western. Or worse, a bunch of hillbillies. Mary Jo decided she had to get to David and his family first.

“Just a minute,” Shaw said. “There is a Rhodes family in Cedar Cove.” He reached behind the counter and pulled out a telephone directory.

Mary Jo wanted to slap her forehead. Of course! How stupid. She should’ve checked the phone book immediately. That was certainly what her brothers would do.

“Here,” Shaw said, flipping the directory around so she could read the listings. As it happened, there was a B. Rhodes, a Kevin Rhodes and three others—and Mary Jo had no way of knowing which of these people were related to David. The only thing to do was to call every one of them and find out.

“Would you mind if I borrowed this for a few minutes?” she asked.

“Sure, go ahead. Tell me if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Thanks.”

“Consider it a random act of kindness.”

“Not so random.” Mary Jo smiled as she brought the phone book back to her table. She rummaged for her cell phone; she hadn’t remembered to charge it before she left and was relieved to see that she had nearly a full battery. She dialed the number for B. Rhodes and waited through several rings before a greeting came on, telling her that Ben and Charlotte weren’t available and inviting her to leave a message. She didn’t. She actually spoke to the next Rhodes, who sounded young and didn’t know anyone named David. Of the last three, the first had a disconnected phone line and the other two didn’t answer.

Mary Jo had assumed it would be easy to find David in a town as small as Cedar Cove. Walking down Harbor Street, she’d seen a sign for Roy McAfee, a private investigator. She hadn’t expected to need one, and even if she could afford to pay someone else to search for David Rhodes, it wasn’t likely that Mr. McAfee would accept a case this close to Christmas.

“Any luck?” Shaw asked.

“None.” Without knowing the name of David’s father, she couldn’t figure out what her next step should be. There were three, possibly four, potential candidates, since she’d managed to rule out just one. Her only consolation was the fact that if she was having trouble, so would her brothers.

“I can think of one person who might be able to help you,” Shaw said thoughtfully.

“Who?”

“Grace Harding. She’s the head librarian and she knows practically everyone in town. I’m not sure if she’s working this morning but it wouldn’t do any harm to go there and see.”