Candy Cane Calaboose

  Copyright

  ISBN 1-58660-473-2

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  © 2001 by Janet Spaeth. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Heartsong Presents, PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover illustration by Kay Salem.

  one

  “No, no, stop!” Abbey Jensen yelled futilely at the package that slithered off the towering pile of decorated Christmas socks. But the package continued on its wayward course, sliding through the slots of the grating that blocked the front entrance of Trends and landing on the highly polished floor of the empty mall just outside the store.

  She looked around her as if a solution beyond the only obvious one would suddenly appear. But nothing materialized.

  She was going to have to open the security gate and retrieve the package from the mall floor.

  She just wanted to go home. She’d been at the store since shortly after seven that morning, and it was now—she glanced at her watch and nearly gasped—almost eleven at night. At this rate, she might as well just go ahead and set up a cot in the store—if she could find a spot that wasn’t covered with racks or shelves. Her store was getting crowded with the holiday displays that arrived daily.

  Abbey turned her key in the grid work’s lock and winced as it groaned open. The sound echoed through the empty mall. The gate raised itself no more than a yard above the floor and stuck.

  It wasn’t the first time. She ducked under the gate and snatched up the socks from the gleaming tile of the outer mall. Glaring at the recalcitrant grid work, she kicked the bars angrily. “Piece of junk—”

  As if in reply, the gate slammed shut.

  Her keys were still dangling in the lock on the other side of the gate, tantalizingly just out of reach. Abbey tried to reach the keys, but her hand wouldn’t fit through the grating. She was stuck inside the cavernous Cedar Mall.

  What should she do? The mall doors were set up so that she could leave through any of them without setting off an alarm, but then what? The keys to her car and her house were on the same ring as the store’s keys—on the other side of the grating.

  Frustration rose in her like an angry fountain. She could see the keys, but they might as well be in Timbuktu.

  She set off through the mall in search of a security guard.

  That meant she had to run the gauntlet that the mall management had placed in her way. Cedar Mall looked more like it was situated at the North Pole than in Northern Mills, Minnesota. The numerous Christmas decorations, normally so festive, now looked merely stupid. At Santa’s workshop, an elf held a little silver hammer that was minus its tip. Santa himself, lit only from the faint glow of security lights, appeared old and tired. Only the plastic reindeer seemed to have any personality. One of them faced her as if ready to take a bite out of her.

  The expression on the reindeer’s face reminded her that she was hungry. If she didn’t get something to eat pretty soon, she’d take a bite out of the reindeer. She hurried past the display.

  It was just one of many ahead of her. The mall owners had decided that this year they would go all out. Games and kiosks, exhibitions and artwork, all jostled each other for room. She ignored them and headed toward the mall office. Security was usually there at night.

  It wasn’t that she had anything against Christmas. Christmas was, in fact, one of her favorite holidays. At least it had been when she was a little girl. Now that her family was scattered across the continent, she had to spend Christmas alone. As a store manager, she no longer had the luxury of leaving Minnesota to spend the holidays with her parents in their home in Connecticut.

  And the specter of spending Christmas alone was enough to put a damper on even the most fervid Yule fan. The solution was easy: She didn’t think about it.

  What she needed to think about now was getting in touch with mall security.

  A light in another store a bit further down gave her an idea. Tuck’s Toys, Mike’s store. . .she breathed a sigh of relief.

  She and Mike Tucker had been friends since they were children. Not good friends, and certainly not as close as their parents would have liked, but friends nevertheless. He’d let her in to use his phone.

  As she peered through the grating of Tuck’s Toys, she saw a head moving behind a display and she called out, “Excuse me? Is someone there? Mike?”

  A familiar face popped up. “Abbey!”

  Abbey breathed a sigh of relief. Never before had Mike’s round brown eyes and dark blond hair seemed so welcoming.

  “I’m locked out of the store, Mike,” she said. “Can I use your phone to call Security?”

  “No problem.” He turned the key in the grid work of his store.

  His gate, she noticed, didn’t groan and screech the way hers did. And it didn’t catch part way up. She was going to have to talk to the mall management about hers.

  She ducked in under the opening grid and followed him to the phone as he asked, “Are you working late tonight too?”

  Abbey nodded. “I wanted to rearrange the entrance displays. What about you?”

  “Oh, I took a break earlier. I ran out to Golden Meadows to see Grandma, and I had dinner with her out there.”

  Her stomach growled in response to the word “dinner.” “How’s she doing?” Abbey had never met his grandmother, but she knew that Mike was devoted to her.

  “Pretty good. She’s a cool lady. You should come with me someday and meet her. I think you’d like her.”

  Not a chance, Abbey thought. Maybe Mike liked going to Golden Meadows—after all, his grandmother lived there—but for her it would just be a visit to a place where old people went to die. No, thank you.

  “And then,” Mike continued, as if he hadn’t noticed her chill, “it was back to work.” He motioned toward an open box. “More Wag-A-Muffins.”

  “Wag-A-Muffins?” She stopped and stared at him.

  “Have you been living on another planet, or what?” He grinned and reached into the box. “This is a Wag-A-Muffin, the hottest toy in the universe. By noon tomorrow, we’ll be sold out.”

  He held up a small brown stuffed dog. “Watch this.” He stroked the toy animal’s back, and the tail curled. “Neat, huh? There are about thirty-five different animals, although I doubt that I have all of them here.”

  She touched it, and the tail lifted into a curlicue. “It’s really cute.”

  Silence met her statement, and she raised her eyes to see him leaning against a display of computer games, a contemplative soft smile on his face.

  “What’s the matter?” she said and immediately regretted the belligerent tone.

  He shook his head and smiled brightly at her. “Nothing. It’s just that for a moment I thought I saw a streak of humanity in you.”

  She glared at him. The old familiar taunt he’d leveled at her since they were children still hurt, although she’d never let him know it.

  “The only warmth that flows through my bloodstream comes in at a steady 98.6, thank you very much,” she shot back.

  “What about when you get a fever? Oh, I know,” he interrupted himself as she tried to speak. “You don’t get sick. That’s for wimps.”

  “I don’t have time for it.” Abbey shrugged off the argument. “Actually, I don’t have time for anything right now except to head back to my store and get my keys. I want to go
home. I’m hungry, and I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

  “And they’re not going to get any shorter now that the Christmas season is gaining on us,” he agreed amiably.

  He handed her the phone, and within minutes the two of them were walking back toward Trends.

  “What do you think of this Christmas Village idea?” Mike asked as they walked by Center Court, where an entire town was set up. Each tiny building was in fact a kiosk with a seasonal specialty. Stuff Your Stockings sold leg wear of all kinds, Lollipop Time sold candy, and PiЦata Pete’s sold piЦatas in imaginative shapes.

  “It’s, well, a bit much.” Abbey wrinkled her nose at the display. “I can understand why they’re doing it, and it’s already bringing in lots of foot traffic just to see it, but it’s too busy for me.”

  “You know, it’s not all that the mall management has planned,” he said, but Abbey had lost interest.

  She spied the security guard ahead and sprinted toward the gate.

  She was dimly aware of the fact that Mike had dropped back, but all she could think of was what awaited her: a hot dinner, a warm bath, and a cozy bed.

  ❧

  Mike watched her head for the guard as if the man held the keys to heaven itself.

  Mike knew he was frowning, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d always cared for Abbey, but her aloofness had kept him at a distance.

  Still, she had a talent for fashion. With her sleek black hair, clear gray eyes, and willowy figure, she could be a fashion model. She also had an instinctive feel for business that he envied. When he’d heard that she was taking over Trends, he was delighted. The fashionable store had suffered under poor management and was near closing, but she had brought it back to life.

  But she’d accomplished it at great expense. He’d seen the lines of exhaustion etched around her eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, let her rest her head against his shoulder, while he breathed in the fresh scent of her perfume.

  But that would never happen. She’d made that clear. No relationships, no ties. She was building her rОsumО, she’d told him, and she had no time for anything that would swerve her off that course.

  He watched as she stumbled slightly. She was fatigued beyond even her capability. She was definitely too tired to drive, but he knew she’d never admit it, and she’d certainly never accept a ride from him. Abbey would insist on driving herself home.

  Mike shut his eyes and offered a quick prayer. Father, take care of her. See her home safely. She is so worn out.

  His gaze stayed on her as the guard opened the gate and she reentered the store. It took him less than a second to know what to do. As quickly as he could, he hurried back to his store, switched off the lights, and closed the gate. Then he retraced his steps, looping around Christmas Village, and left through the door of the mall that was closest to Trends.

  His breath froze in his nostrils as he stood outside, scanning the expanse before him. The parking lot was empty. Or almost empty.

  His instincts had been right. He could see her car pulling out of one of the far-off slots where mall employees were supposed to park, and from the pause before she switched gears, he could tell how deep her exhaustion was.

  He followed her home, staying a discreet distance behind, and left only as he saw her put the key in the door of her house. She would be safe. He smiled and let out a sigh of relief.

  ❧

  Abbey leaned against the storm door, letting the cool metal refresh her tired forehead. Tomorrow she’d have to find some time to shovel the steps. The snow was so drifted, even this early in the season, that the door wouldn’t fully open.

  But the snow was more compacted than she’d figured. She dug into the drift with her toe to clear it.

  It wasn’t all snow. There was something there.

  She reached down and burrowed through the snow until her fingers closed around a squarish form. It was a package, she realized, as she dusted the snow off. And, from the emerald green writing on the address, she knew immediately whom it was from.

  Aunt Luellen. Loopy Aunt Luellen.

  She opened the door and dropped the package inside the entryway as she shrugged out of her coat. She was so tired. But first she’d have to take care of this soggy package on her floor. It was already dripping into a rapidly spreading puddle.

  Microwavable meatloaf was just moments away. Flannel pajamas were waiting for her. A nice comfortable bed was around the corner. A quick face wash—she was just too exhausted for a bath—a few moments to brush her teeth, and she’d be asleep.

  It was a lovely thought.

  But Aunt Luellen was, well, Aunt Luellen.

  And the package was wet. Whatever was in it needed to be rescued. She sighed and opened the sodden package.

  She blinked once. Twice. Three times. But the image remained.

  Yellow fuzzy slippers with a grinning frog on the toe of each—that’s what Aunt Luellen had given her. And the eyes on the frogs were bright blue plastic gems. Aunt Luellen was even loopier than ever.

  A note fell from the toe of one of the slippers and Abbey unfolded it. Maybe this would give her a clue as to why on earth her aunt thought that this was an appropriate gift for a woman who owned only one pair of jeans, for whom comfortable shoes were two-inch heels.

  “Claire: Every time that you wear these slippers, look at the toes and tell yourself that this day is a jewel, perfect, and ideal. If life at Golden Meadows is getting you down, look at where the jewels are—and smile! Wishing you great hoppy-ness always, today, and many tomorrows, Luellen.”

  Claire? Her name wasn’t Claire. Aunt Luellen had gone from loopy to lunatic. Suddenly, through the fog of exhaustion, she realized what was going on. The slippers weren’t meant for her. She had no idea who “Claire” was, although she was obviously one of Aunt Luellen’s cronies if she lived at Golden Meadows.

  Abbey sighed. She’d have to get the slippers to whoever this Claire woman was. But she didn’t have the time to do that—she hadn’t even had time to eat dinner. How could she fit in a trip to a retirement home? Besides, she told herself grumpily, she did not want to go to Golden Meadows. If her head weren’t so clogged with a desperate need for sleep, she’d be able to figure it out.

  She laid the slippers aside, planning to deal with them in the morning, and another bit of paper fell out of the other toe. “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

  The Bible. That sounded like Aunt Luellen. The woman had the whole book memorized, or so it had always seemed to Abbey. Aunt Luellen could quote Scripture with an astonishing ease. Of course, she was a missionary, so she lived and breathed religion, but nevertheless, her ability was uncanny.

  Religion. That was where Abbey and Aunt Luellen parted ways. Sometime, when Abbey was established in her career and had gotten her MBA, she’d look into it again. Clearly, religion took a lot of time, and that was one thing she didn’t have.

  Time—and sleep. “And food,” she said to the frogs, whose bright blue eyes sparkled back at her. Meatloaf would take too long. She reached into a box of sugar cookies and held one out toward the slippers. “Froggy want a cookie?”

  Abbey shook her head. Any longer with the slippers and she’d be as loopy as Aunt Luellen.

  But a moment of clarity came right before sleep claimed her.

  Mike.

  His grandmother lived at Golden Meadows. He went there all the time. She’d give the slippers to him tomorrow, and he could take them out there to their rightful owner—whoever “Claire” was—and she’d be finished with the whole messy thing.

  Abbey smiled happily. Mike would take care of everything. She just knew it.

  two

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, ‘No’?” Abbey asked as they stood outside Tuck’s Toys where she’d come to visit Mike.

  “Simply that. No. I won’t take the present for you.”

  “But why not?” She could not believe w
hat she was hearing. Why wouldn’t he do this one little favor for her? “You’re going out there anyway, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Then why not take it with you?”

  “Nope.”

  His refusal had her flabbergasted. It didn’t make any sense at all.

  “You should take it out to her. For one thing,” he said, “this Claire probably has your present. And besides, it just would be the Christian thing to do for your aunt Luellen.”

  Abbey barely restrained herself from snorting. Christian, indeed. Just because Aunt Luellen had turned her life over to the church didn’t mean that she, Abbey Jensen, should act all holy. Religion wasn’t one of those things that ran in the family, like red hair or big ear lobes.

  “I’m going out there tonight, and I can give you a ride if you like,” he offered.

  “You’re going out there? Just take the stupid slippers with you and be done with it, then. I can’t understand why you won’t.” She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help herself. “It’s no big deal.”

  “And I can’t understand why you won’t go,” he parried. “‘It’s no big deal.’ ”

  His words, slung back at her like that, sounded terrible.

  But the fact was, she did not want to go to Golden Meadows. The thought of being surrounded, even for a minute or two, by old people was awful. That’s why she liked the mall; it was young and very much alive.

  “I’m going at five-thirty,” Mike continued, as if he hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

  Abbey breathed a sigh of relief. She absolutely couldn’t go. “I’m the only one in the store then.”

  Mike shrugged. “You deal with this on your own schedule. I go at five-thirty so I can have dinner with my grandmother. It means a lot to her.”

  He turned to leave, but he paused and faced her again. “It really wouldn’t take you long. For about fifteen minutes of your time—which I know is precious—you could make two women very happy.”

  Abbey could feel herself frowning. “Two women? Oh, you mean Aunt Luellen and this Claire woman.”

  He smiled at her. “That’s right. I know that most of the people at Golden Meadows love visitors, but even if Claire is a total recluse who hates everybody and doesn’t want to see anyone for the rest of her natural days, you do have her Christmas present from your aunt. Give it to her. Not only is it hers and not yours, but Abbey, it’s Christmas!”