A Christmas Miracle

Two armed, uniformed guards bounded over the furniture to scoop up the bank’s former loan officer. One hustled their prey, stunned by his fall, out of the room. The other, a long-time acquaintance of Fleming’s, faced Jason.

“We’ve called the police. They’re on their way.”

“Did he hurt anyone out there?” Jason glanced toward the reception area.

“No, sir. Seemed intent on getting in here. Fleming, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Oakes.” With relief flowing to every extremity, but feeling incredibly awkward at the same time, she hid her face as she bent to gather the files she’d dumped on the faded, flowery rug. “He must have tripped on these when he landed.”

“Let me help you.” Jason’s hand brushed hers as she picked up a file, which she dropped immediately.

Mr. Oakes, who’d also provided security for high school football games in years past, managed to retrieve the rest and handed the pile to her. “You should go home.”

“I have to go to work.” She stared into the hall, where Paige suddenly reappeared, writhing against his captor’s hold. “He never said a word.”

“He made his point, though.” Jason looked calm, but his voice seemed a thread huskier. This time, as she stared, fascinated, he looked away, feeling for his tablet underneath the chair. “You might want to stay in case the police...”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll email you the information I was hoping to discuss. We can talk about it again.”

After seeing him attacked, the last thing she wanted to talk about was her money troubles. It was embarrassing. If she lost the shop, she’d lose her home. She’d lose her mother’s respect. She’d lose her own.

“I trusted Mr. Paige.” How on earth could she believe that Jason Macland, whose family name was on the bank, really wanted to help her out of a financial catastrophe?

“A lot of people did,” Jason said, “including my father.”

So he wasn’t here just to fix the bank. He also had someone he didn’t want to disappoint.

* * *

“MR. MACLAND, that was your last appointment.” Hilda was already buttoning her coat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home.”

By the time the police had left, Jason and Hilda and Fleming Harris had formed a triad—the first people Paige had found the guts to attack in person, rather than hiding behind a predatory loan. “You’re coming back tomorrow?” Jason asked.

She nodded. “As long as that man’s in the county jail.”

Which was apparently over the ridge that almost completely surrounded the town.

“You don’t happen to have Ms. Harris’s phone number?” he asked. Fleming had lingered at the edges of Jason’s mind since she’d left the office. She wasn’t the only person Paige had cheated. There was the man whose house was in danger of foreclosure, the two elderly ladies who’d retired to Bliss to open an ice cream parlor. Others, too. And all the while, Jason kept thinking of the woman who’d refused to leave a man she didn’t know when he might be in danger.

“I’ll find the number for you.” Hilda opened a file on her computer and then wrote the phone number on a slip of paper. “She must have been afraid.”

As Paige had sailed past Fleming’s shoulder, every story of workplace violence he’d ever heard had replayed in Jason’s head. His only thought had been to protect her, the innocent bystander who happened to be in his office at the worst possible time.

“I thought I’d offer to meet her somewhere else,” he said.

“That’s kind.”

Jason managed not to laugh. Kind was not a word often used to describe him.

He’d had to make hard decisions before. He normally analyzed a failing business, provided structures and policies for dragging it back into financial profit and then moved on to the next troubled company. He’d never had the slightest urge to work for his father in any of the Macland banks. His involvement now was supposed to be a favor for his grandfather, who’d actually been the one to notice something was going on in Bliss. Jason meant to be in and out, with his report sewn up by the first week in January.

He took the piece of paper. “Thanks, Hilda, and listen, you don’t have to be afraid,” he said. “The guy’s angry with me because I’m the one who told him he got caught.”

“I’m sure a few days in a cell will make him a lot happier.”

“We can hope he’s also cheated any attorney who’s capable of getting him bail. If you hear him coming down that hall again, jump in the nearest closet.”

“I’ve already made that plan.” She turned back to her screen. “You might try meeting Fleming at her shop. My girls and I spend a lot of time there this time of year. The Harrises put on activities for children, and Fleming’s mother makes the best hot cocoa I’ve ever tasted.”

He pushed the phone number into his pocket. “That’s a good idea. I’m curious about a place that sells holiday ornaments all year long.”

Or maybe he was curious about the owner of such a place. The year held other holidays. A smart business owner would consider diversifying. Fleming might be able to use his expertise.

* * *

FLEMING MANNED HER post behind the counter until the last of the pedestrians walking past on the sidewalk had disappeared for the day. The night before Thanksgiving was never busy, but she felt anxious. Bliss had never felt anything but safe until today.

Maybe a few customers would have taken her mind off this morning. Business would pick up on Friday.

Her stomach growled. She’d been so intent on making the store as inviting as her mother had when Fleming was a child that she’d forgotten to eat. The hotel at the end of the courthouse square had been doing a turkey dinner with fixings all week.

If she went to the hotel tonight, she’d probably have leftovers for a sandwich tomorrow, and she could finish making the shop shine by Friday morning.

Fresh eyes, she told herself.

It certainly wasn’t that she felt reluctant to go home alone.

She put on her coat and shoved the warm gloves she’d worn in this morning’s heavy frost into her pockets. She left Christmas lights twinkling in the windows and around the long wooden counter and set the shop’s alarm, then locked up before heading for the hotel.

Outside, the streets were almost empty. Earlier in the week, garlands had begun to go up, but the decorations weren’t yet complete. What with the danger of losing the shop and that Paige guy’s rage this morning, she finally admitted her world felt off balance tonight.

“Fleming?”

Startled, she whipped around. A car passed by. The courthouse bell began to toll. And Fleming laughed because she felt ridiculous. Jason Macland stepped off the curb across the street.

“I meant to call you,” he said. “I’m sorry about what happened in my office this morning. Are you all right?”

“Fine.” She did feel fine now. He’d stepped in front of her with Paige, and now he made her feel safe because she wasn’t alone in the streets. She checked herself. How could she ever be afraid in Bliss, the mountain town that was part of her body and blood?

“How about you?” she asked.

His smile was self-deprecating and frustrated at the same time. “Also fine, except you and I will have to talk again. I’m sorry, but we have to discuss your loan.”

So—not so much concern for her as for his bank. “I’m gathering the information your assistant emailed about.”

“Good. The sooner we settle better terms, the safer your business will be.” Jason stepped onto the sidewalk, towering over her, ominous even if he didn’t mean to be. “I’m trying to get you into a better position before the rules of your loan take over. I can’t help you after that.”