Halos (22 page)

“You can’t. He’d be in check by my rook.”

She moved the king one square to the side.

He brought his bishop into place. “Check again.”

She looked at her pawn, waiting to become a queen, then frowned at her king’s plight. She moved him one square forward. Steve moved his other knight. He was down one bishop, a rook, and several pawns. But it didn’t matter.

With her king safe for the moment, she nudged her pawn another square forward. Steve brought his queen across. “Check. Mate.”

She crossed her arms, glaring at the little pawn as though he were personally to blame.

He smiled. “That’s why I said it wouldn’t matter.”

She picked up three pieces and laid them in the box. “What else didn’t you tell me?”

He scooped a handful of pieces and laid them into the slots above hers. “There are many strategies I couldn’t go into right off the bat. But I gave you all the basic information.”

She laid the rest of her pieces into the box. He closed it, took it with the board, and replaced it all on the shelf.

She stood up. “Well, you won.”

“I have to say you learned quickly.”

“Not quickly enough.” She shoved her hair back. “So claim your prize.”

He wanted to but shook his head. “Not just yet.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Taking it now would be too mercenary.” He’d wait for a spontaneous moment, such as they’d shared in the kitchen. Maybe then she wouldn’t resist. No, she didn’t resist, it was just …

He took her hand and led her to the front window. The snow blew in blasts, no cozy snowfall that. Rather a brutal cold that would spoil services and celebrations if it kept up until tomorrow with no power. Charity had spent days with no power at times, though not over Christmas that he could recall.

And then he realized the next day was Christmas. He had flippantly claimed to be spending it with her to get rid of Amanda. Alessi’s suggestion, but now he wanted it to be real. Should he ask her? Or just make it happen? And after Christmas…? He glanced over. What was she thinking as she looked out into the blowing snow?

“Alessi … I know our agreement went through Christmas—the employment, that is.”

“And protection.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“From piranhas.”

“That too.” It seemed ridiculous now, with the sort of protection she needed. They had started out pretending, but having all those hours together had formed a real bond. He’d spent time with others and had not lost his head. But Alessi was like no one else.

He rested his hand on the small of her back. “What if you don’t get your car back by Christmas?”

She stared out the window. “I don’t know.”

“Would you stay?”

She moistened her lips. “I don’t know.”

“Why would you have to go?”

She pressed her fingers to the glass, melting small circles in the frost. “I need to find where I belong.”

He took her fingers from the glass, felt the chill of their tips. They belonged in his. The thought triggered his desire to keep her close, to know all there was to know about her. “It could be Charity.”

She shook her head. “Not without my car.”

“It’s just a car.”

She looked up at him. “Then why won’t the sheriff get it back?”

“Because he can’t.”

She turned away, walked back to the fire. He stayed at the window. What if he told her? It was breaking the pact to do so. And it was questionable whether she’d understand even then. It was, as Ben said, a matter of believing. He looked through a white blast to Ben’s Jeep pulling into the circular driveway. A moment later Ben emerged and unloaded Mary and the girls. Steve looked behind him toward Alessi at the fire. Too late to kiss her now.

Twenty-Nine

A
LESSI STARTLED WHEN THE DOOR BURST OPEN and Cait and Lyn blew in on a blast of white. Steve tugged them out of the way so Ben and Mary could follow, then closed the door behind them. Her heart swelled at the sight of those chapped faces and Mary looking like a little match girl herself.

Ben came in, stomping and huffing. “Their house is too cold. No fireplace.” He closed the storm out. “I hope we’re not …”

“We were playing chess.” Steve turned. “You girls like to play games?”

Neither one answered. Steve had a knack for striking people speechless. Alessi motioned them over to the fireplace, where they stood shivering, their little faces pink and their bangs clotted with snow. Alessi stooped to tug off mittens and hats, then laid the girls’ things on the hearth to dry. “You want something hot to drink?”

Steam puffed from the pot Steve had filled but never used. Dishes could wait. With the potholder Ben had left on the hearth, she lifted the pot out and carried it to the kitchen.

Mary went with her and set a large paper sack on the counter. They whipped up cups of hot chocolate for the girls, then Mary took a tin from the sack. “Would you like to try this chai tea? It’s instant but tasty.”

“Sure.” Alessi glanced at Ben and Steve speaking low together by the front window. “Would you guys like something hot?”

“You all go ahead,” Ben said. “I’ll brew up some more coffee later.”

Cait crept into the kitchen and whispered to her mother, “I’m hungry.”

“I know. It’s lunchtime.” Mary took a loaf of Wonder Bread and a package of wafer beef from the sack.

Just the sort of lunch Alessi had lived on most of her life. For a moment Mary’s face was replaced by her mother’s. Such loss and longing as she hadn’t felt for a while seized her. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Mary was spreading the bread with Miracle Whip and both Cait and Lyn hovered at her sides, sipping their mugs.

Alessi pulled herself together. “Can I help?”

“You can peel the cheese.” Mary handed her the package of Kraft singles.

Alessi pulled the plastic off each slice and laid the cheese on the bread. Then Mary added a few slices of wafer beef and the top bread. She handed them over to the girls. Mom had always cut them diagonally into four triangles. Alessi had nibbled the soft inner corner first and worked her way to the crust.

She put two of the sandwiches on plates and carried them to Ben and Steve. Ben said, “Thanks, Alessi.” Steve just looked into her face with something like disappointment and anticipation at once. She doubted it was the sandwich he anticipated.

His asking about Christmas and what happened next had changed the mood, made her realize she was still drifting with nowhere to belong. Maybe she never would. It was as pointless as trying to cross the board with a pawn. Or maybe she was the pawn, trying to be a queen while everyone who mattered was being taken off the board.

She turned away and caught Ben’s glance, watching her curiously. He murmured something to Steve after she passed, but Steve’s answer was too low to hear. Cait had eaten into her sandwich until it framed her chin like a beard. Lyn ate all the crust off and was now biting toward the center. Alessi joined Mary in the kitchen and received her own sandwich. She took a knife from the drawer and cut it into quarters, then slowly, deliberately, she nibbled the innermost corner.

Mary touched her hand. “I want you to know something.” Alessi laid down her sandwich. “What is it?”

“I told Ben yes.” Mary’s cheeks flushed and red ran down her neck, but it was not an awkward or embarrassed flush.

Alessi stared at her, seeing now that it was peace she’d noticed, peace and joy as deep as any Christmas promise. “When did he ask you?”

“A year and a half ago.”

“He’s just waited for an answer?”

Mary nodded, then turned and scooped the chai powder into their mugs.

Alessi’s heart soared as she tucked the end of another triangle into her mouth and poured hot water into the mugs. Gentle, patient Ben and fragile Mary. She refilled the pot and put it back over the fire. Mary carried their mugs in, and they sat down on the couch.

The tea tasted spicy and mellow at once, a wonderful blend. Alessi murmured, “Did you set a date?”

“Not yet.”

“Do the girls know?” She watched them sip their cocoa on the hearth and finish the ends of their sandwiches.

“No. I just told Ben last night.”

Looking across at him still by the window, Alessi’s spirit danced. How glad he must have been to hear the answer he had hoped for, that he’d waited so long for. “I’m glad, Mary.”

Mary stared at her steaming mug. “After you and I talked the other day, the fear seemed to lose its hold.”

“Ben will be wonderful for you.”

Mary nodded, still staring into her mug. “I already knew that. It’s whether I could be any good….”

“Forget those lies. Ben’s not like that.”

“But they stick, you know.”

She did know. Every one of the things Aunt Carrie had said were lodged somewhere inside her. Some had been carelessly dropped and sunken innocuously inside. Others had been driven directly through her heart. Alessi fought to ignore them, refused even one gaining entrance into her mind now. That was done. She would not spend what years were left to her being poisoned by them.

The fire crackled and popped as she ate the next quarter of her sandwich and watched the twins play with the Beanie Babies that had made the trip in their pockets. “I wonder how Diana’s going to manage with all her family coming for a big gourmet meal.”

Mary blew on the surface of her tea. “Dave’ll rig up something. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got a generator running all her lights and appliances.”

“Could he do that?”

“Sure. He’s a mechanical whiz.”

Alessi looked out at the swirling wind. “Where would he get one today?”

Mary sipped. “From the garage. He has everything you’d ever need in there.”

Lyn jumped up. “Can we play in Ben’s room?”

“No.” Mary shook her head. “It’ll be cold.”

Cait landed a soft unicorn on Mary’s knee. “We want to play under the covers with our Beanies.”

Lyn leaned into her mother’s lap. “Please.”

“I’m sure Ben doesn’t want you in his bed.”

“It’s all right with me.” Ben turned from the window where he still stood with Steve. What were they discussing? “If it’s too cold, come out.”

Alessi looked at the men in sober-faced discussion, yet Ben had heard as soon as there was need. He was so right for Mary, for her little girls. A painful, ignored longing twisted inside her.

“Mommy, why don’t they want us?”

“Who, honey?”

“Our family.”

“Because they don’t know what they’re missing, sweetie.”

And Steve had kindled feelings and thoughts that only made the longing worse. She finished her tea in silence, closing her eyes and letting the fire’s warmth lull her. She stirred when the cup was removed from her hands but didn’t open her eyes. She’d slept so poorly the last few nights. It was catching up to her…. She drifted again and imagined Steve’s arms around her.

“I’m sure Steve doesn’t want you in his bed.”

“It’s all right with me.” He turned and one side of his face peeled down, exposing an eyeball and gore. She screamed and struggled, but he wouldn’t let her go. “I won a kiss.” Backing away, she saw the hurt in his one good eye, smelled the unforgiveness rotting his flesh. She struggled to escape, but a hand gripped her shoulder and she clawed at it
.

“Alessi.”

Her eyes flew open to Steve’s face, whole and unmarred, but she shook with the residue of fear as she drew woodsmoke into her nostrils.

It was worse than a dream; almost a premonition. It left a dread that didn’t fade with waking.

“Are you all right?”

There were voices and shuffling in the hall, but only Steve was in the den with her. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“You’ve napped four hours.”

Alessi bunched her hair with one hand. “Four hours?” The light had changed, shadows grown.

“Slept all through dominoes and charades. I’m sure you needed to.” He cocked his head. “Though it wasn’t all that peaceful from the sound of it.”

She rubbed her face. “I had a dream.”

“Bad?”

She nodded.

“You want to talk about it?” He stretched his arm behind her shoulders.

Would he take his kiss? The dream images returned with a vengeance. “No.”

“Might help.”

She shook her head. That would definitely not help. Not with Steve’s being the face in her dream, and her dream so close and real. Sudden dread coursed her veins. Could it be a warning? Steve couldn’t be …

Her thoughts flew. She hadn’t looked at anyone and thought: Is it him? Is it her? Why would she think it now? And about Steve! But he’d been so angry to find her there in the first place. And the night of the donuts? He had pulled her out of the street, stopped her searching. Add to that the almost predatory kiss.

Alessi trembled. The mask? He would have had only minutes to get in to the phone, but Ben had answered first. Had there been time? She couldn’t think clearly. He had gone out before she was doused with ice water and had shown up shortly after. To view her misery?

She must be losing her mind. The stress of it all was catching up with her. But he had discouraged her at every step from talking about things and going to the sheriff with more. He knew her comings and goings better than anyone. But why? He had no reason to hate her. Unless it was some way to strike back at Barb or his mother? She’d seen his unforgiveness. Was it neurosis? She started to shake. He’d asked her again and again to trust him. Part of the thrill?

She shot a glance to the window. It was growing dim outside. She must have slept as long as he said. He brushed the hair back behind her shoulder. She shuddered.

He turned her to face him. “What’s the matter?”

“I dreamed you … your face was like the mask.” She searched his eyes as she said it, searched for any sign, any …

He took her hand and brushed it over his cheek. “It’s just the way it should be.”

Was she crazy to even think it? Steve had helped her more than anyone. Yet…

Cait peeked around the corner and crept over, Lyn on her heels. “Are you awake?”

Steve eased back.

Alessi nodded. “I’m awake.”

“Look what I made.” She pulled from her pocket a candy cane turned into a reindeer with pipe-cleaner antlers and a tiny pompon nose.

“I made one too.” Lyn pulled hers out, though the nose was gone.

“Your Rudolf’s nose fell off.” Cait pointed.

Lyn frowned, digging around in her pocket. “Here it is. Ben!” She took off down the hall. “I need more glue.”

“Let me see that.” Steve reached for Cait’s candy cane reindeer. “Do you know the song?”

Cait nodded.

“Let’s hear it.”

Cait shrank inside herself.

She’s afraid of him
. The thought was clear and obvious. She had obeyed in surrendering her reindeer, but she couldn’t sing, not in a million years. Alessi said, “I’ll sing with you, Cait, but I’m not sure I know it all.” She began, “Rudolf the …”

Softly, almost in a whisper, Cait joined in. Lyn came back around the corner, watching and listening while she held the newly glued nose in place. Steve added his voice.

Alessi glanced at him when Lyn joined the singing. The girls must know him a little if he’d been back most of a year and Ben had dated Mary all that time. Maybe they hadn’t spent much time together. Had Steve’s grief made him gruff and scary—or was he truly scary?

Lyn crept closer, her voice stronger than Cait’s.

“Then one foggy Christmas Eve …” Steve held out his hand and Lyn stepped into it, snuggling up against his knee. “Santa came to say …”

He stopped singing and both girls continued, “Rudolf with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight.” Their voices were precious.

Alessi stopped and listened as they finished together with a gleeful “His-to-ry.”

Lyn climbed into Steve’s lap, holding her reindeer sideways to keep the nose from sliding off. Steve’s hand supported her waist. How could she even be thinking such horrible things? It hurt to doubt him. Her heart quavered, and she looked away. Steve and the twins sang “Jingle Bells,” ha-ha-ha-ing, but she stared into the fire, trying to catch hold of Christmas hope and peace. And trust. The trust he kept asking for.

She was always an uneasy napper and usually woke discombobulated. But this was worse. This was as though a heavy pall had been cast over her. He had toyed with her in chess, leading her to a point of confidence, then revealing something she didn’t know. It had seemed playful, but could it have been something else? Something sinister, when it had felt so … affectionate? A hollow opened inside.

Ben and Mary came back, arms laden with sleeping bags, blankets, and pillows. Ben said, “We’ll just set you all up near the fire. You’ll be warm enough there.”

“Can we make our beds now?” Cait tugged his sleeve.

“Not yet. You might get walked on.”

The small room was nearing capacity. Alessi felt stifled.