Keeping Christmas

“No,” he said, standing so suddenly Katie had to shut her eyes against the blur of movement. “You’re not Katherine, but you look enough like her to be…her twin.”

He laughed, a sound that held no mirth at all. “But since she’s dead and buried these three years, maybe I should say instead that you look enough like her to be her ghost.”

Chapter 2

Katherine’s ghost. Who was Katherine? And what did she mean to this dark, unfriendly stranger?

“I’ve been accused of being a lot of things in my life, but a ghost has never been one of them.” No one said anything.

Katie wished she didn’t feel so disoriented and confused. The lights in the foyer were bright and hurt her eyes. She closed them, hoping to alleviate the pain in her head. It didn’t work. She opened them again and found the man still standing by the settee, watching her.

“Please,” she said, unable to look away from his compelling yet shuttered gaze. “May I have a glass of water?”

“Will tea do?” a gentle childlike voice asked at her shoulder. She turned her head to find herself confronted by two smiling, identical faces. Brown eyes stared at her from beneath curly mops of gray-streaked red hair. “We thought you might want something warming. But Faye can march straight back into the kitchen and fetch you a glass of water.” The heads turned, nodded. One disappeared, presumably in the direction of the kitchen. The woman who remained offered her the cup of herb tea. “It’s our great-grandmother’s recipe,” she said, still smiling. “It’s good for whatever ails you.” Katie took the cup. She was suddenly very cold, and the warmth of the thick china mug was welcome. The tea smelled strange, but not unpleasant. It was flavored with lemon and honey and other things she couldn’t identify. She let the liquid run down her throat, soothing and warming, while the aroma drifted up into her nostrils, making it just a little easier to breathe, a little easier to think.

“Thank you,” she said, meaning it, as she handed the empty mug back to the red-haired woman. “I think you saved my life.” She wondered if she was delirious and had only imagined the woman’s double standing at her side moments before.

“Did my sister tell you it’s an old family remedy?” Once more there were two. “Here, I brought you a glass of spring water, as well.”

“Thank you,” Katie said again, holding the glass with both hands because she was trembling so hard. She took a sip and handed it back, looking from one pleasant, girlish face to the other.

“We’re twins,” the woman on her left said. “I’m Lois Owens and this is my sister, Faye.”

“You might as well introduce everyone,” Faye said with a grin that was filled with mischief. “I’m afraid there’s enough of us to confuse someone who’s purely well.”

“Faye, you speak as if you’ve just come down out of the hills,” the tall, bent woman broke in. “I’m Almeda Owens. My sister, Hazel Owens Gentry, you’ve already met,” she said with a sweeping gesture of her gnarled hand. “This, also, is my sister, Janet.”

Janet, plump, gray and inquisitive looking, gave Katie a brief nod and a long, assessing look. “The baby needs changing,” she said.

“Yes, I know.”

“And this,” Almeda went on, ignoring her sister’s comment about Kyle, “is our nephew, Dr. Jacob Owens.”

Katie said, “Oh,” because she couldn’t think of anything else. If he was a doctor, his bedside manner left a great deal to be desired. Jacob said nothing at all.

“Janet’s right about the baby needing to be changed,” Hazel said in the awkward silence. “And I believe he’s hungry, as well.” She still cuddled Kyle to her chest, but he was squirming and fussing.

“Yes,” Katie said wearily. “I was just getting ready to give him his bottle when…when the bus went off the road.” She gave Jacob a defiant look. He made no mention of her change of stories.

“Where are his diapers?” Janet asked. “I’ll get them.”

“In my tote.” Katie sat up, ignoring the pain in her neck and shoulders. She looked around. “Where is it? I…I remember it falling from my shoulder.” Suddenly she felt like crying. Everything she owned was in that bag, even her purse. And she’d lost that twice in the same evening.

“I’ll get it,” Jacob offered roughly. “Don’t start crying about it. No one steals anything from this yard with Weezer around.”

“Oh, dear, Weezer. She’s still out in the storm.”

“I’ll pen her up, Aunt H, don’t worry.”

“I’ll go with you and bring in the bag,” Janet offered.

“Come straight back, Jacob, and help us get Katie to bed. She doesn’t look stout enough to negotiate the stairs,” Hazel ordered, bouncing Kyle up and down, shushing his increasingly loud and angry squawks as she did so.

“You’re not planning to keep her overnight?” Jacob turned on his heel, his hand already on the doorknob.

“Oh, no,” Katie said at the same time. “I couldn’t impose.”

“You’re not imposing.”

“We’d love to have you,” the twins said, speaking as one.

“Too cold to be taking a baby out on a night like this.”

“An Owens has never turned away a soul in need,” Almeda said, ending the argument.

Katie saw Jacob’s jaw tighten and his expression grow even bleaker than before. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I can have the Jeep warmed up and drive her and the baby down to Fuller’s in less time than it will take to make up a bed.”

“Yes,” said Katie. “We’ll go to Fuller’s.”

“No, my dear. The matter is settled.” Almeda gestured toward her nephew. “Janet can get Kate’s bag from the yard. Carry the child upstairs. No,” she said, fixing Katie with a dark-eyed stare that was every bit as formidable as her nephew’s. “I won’t hear any more arguments. You’re not well, and not thinking clearly.”

“Stay here tonight for the baby’s sake, if not your own,” Hazel added more gently. “Fuller’s aren’t used to many visitors at this time of year. The rooms will be cold. And you need your rest.”

“What’s the baby’s name?” Faye—or was it Lois?—asked, running her fingers over Kyle’s silky hair.

“Kyle Michael.”

“Kyle. I like that name. Let me hold him, Hazel. You can’t have him all the time.” Kyle, diverted by the soft lilt of her voice, stopped squirming and allowed himself to be taken into Faye’s arms.

“I want to hold him, Faye.”

“You can change him,” her sister said with a grin.

“Okay, but I get to feed him, too.”

“His food is in the bag. I hope it hasn’t frozen out there in the snow.” Katie stood and immediately wished she hadn’t. She grabbed the arm of the settee and tried to sit back down before she fell. Jacob was at her side before her hand closed over the carved wood. His disapproval was so strong Katie could feel it like a wall between them. But with one swift movement he scooped her up in his arms, holding her high against his chest.

“Please, put me down.” She had never felt so helpless in her life. She didn’t like it, not one bit.

“If my aunt Almeda says you’re spending the night, you’re spending the night,” Jacob replied in the same cold, gruff voice he’d used before. Again, Katie felt the fine tremors in his muscles and realized this time the tension in him was not from the exertion of carrying her in his arms, but having her near at all.

Who was Katherine? she wondered again.

Katie lifted her aching head, determined to ask him, but one look at Jacob’s hard jaw and set, uncompromising features drove the question from her mind.

He carried her up the curving staircase, pausing for a moment at the half-landing to allow his aunt Hazel to precede them the rest of the way. He stopped in front of a door some distance down the long, well-lighted upper hallway and waited as Hazel switched on the overhead light and turned down the quilt-covered spindle bed in the middle of the room.

“I’ll fetch a heating pad for your feet, my dear. And what about your night things?” she asked, turning away from the humpbacked cedar chest at the foot of the bed, her arms full of blankets.