Noel, Alabama Page 2

  Cammie Laroux had warned him that Bailey was headed here just ahead of a full movie crew and slew of actors and other Hollywood types to film some scenes from a Christmas feature film.

  Bailey looked fantastic from what he could tell as she whizzed by, with her aviator sunglasses, jeans tucked into black boots, and white sweater with a plaid scarf slung around her neck. Her hair was the same; chestnut brown with those blond streaks. He was glad she hadn’t changed it. But she was chic, slick. Casual Hollywood. She had an intimidating bearing. All five-foot-four inches of her.

  She’d moved past with confidence, like a woman in charge. The Bailey he’d known so well until she’d blown out of here at eighteen had been—complicated. And sweet and funny. She’d been everything to him back then.

  Seth had heard she’d buzzed into town several times over the years but oddly he’d missed seeing her. Somehow he’d doubted that had been an accident. A town this size left little room for outmaneuvering a run-in with someone unless it was by design.

  Hearing that Bailey Boone was coming back to Ministry for an extended period of time had been something of a shocker. Not that he believed anything Bailey did at this point in her life had anything to do with him. Still, he had to admit that learning of her impending arrival stirred up some pretty mixed emotions.

  They would meet again; it was imminent. In fact, it was necessary and needed to be soon. Since the mayor was out of town, that left the important details of welcoming the incoming visitors and getting everyone settled to Seth. He was Bailey’s point man, as it were, and whether either of them liked it or not, they had business together.

  Chapter Two

  When the bells jingled on yet another door she opened, Bailey wasn’t quite as surprised as she’d been the first time. It was a sound from her past. Maybe that’s why it irritated her. And as she entered the Okaloosa County Sheriff’s Office, which shared space with the Ministry Police Department, Bailey took a deep breath and intentionally pulled up her chin so as not to avoid anyone’s eyes.

  There he was. Seth McKay in the flesh. Tipped back in his office chair, jean-encased legs and boots crossed on his great big mahogany desk, perusing a newspaper, not a device like most folks in L.A., as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He hadn’t even looked up when she’d entered.

  No, he hadn’t lost his hair. And judging by how his shoulders filled out the khaki button-down, county-issued shirt, he’d not developed a gut either. Bailey was torn, and somewhat annoyed. Should she clear her throat or stomp her feet to get his attention?

  “Bailey Boone, as I live and breathe. It’s been a minute since we’ve seen you around here. Welcome home.”

  Bailey had been so fixed on her throwback man-target, she’d missed the woman sitting on the other side of the room at a desk just outside her periphery.

  “Oh, hi. Thank you. It’s great to see you again, Cheryl.” Cheryl Hodges wore a uniform that was blue and gray with a badge pinned on the lapel. Bailey and Cheryl had gone to school together growing up. They’d been friends but hadn’t stayed in touch. Bailey hadn’t stayed in touch with anyone besides Cammie on social media. She’d had quite a few requests from others in town, but she hadn’t responded. Once, when she had, they’d wanted to know how to get into the movie business. So, Bailey decided not to engage.

  “I hear you’re dragging this town into the spotlight whether we like it or not,” Cheryl said. Bailey couldn’t decipher whether or not Cheryl believed that to be a good thing.

  Bailey kept one eye on Seth, who’d still not looked up.

  “I’m hoping it’s a good thing. I plan to help things run as smoothly as possible,” Bailey said.

  “Well, we’re here to assist you in any way we can; aren’t we, Sheriff?” Cheryl said a little too loudly.

  They both swung their gazes toward the man hiding behind his newspaper in the back corner of the room.

  The newspaper lowered slowly.

  Bailey was skewered with an ice-cold blue gaze. “I reckon we are. Welcome back to Ministry, Bailey Boone.”

  Bailey’s heart nearly beat out of her chest. “Good to see you again, Seth.”

  “I’ve got to go out and check on some coffee. Y’all want anything?” Cheryl asked as she clipped her sidearm to her belt. Cheryl was no fool.

  “Not for me, thanks,” Bailey said.

  “I’m good,” Seth said.

  The door bells jingled as they continued to stare at one another.

  “So, you’re really back?” He’d managed to lower his newspaper and his feet.

  Bailey swallowed a Captain Obvious remark and nodded. Now that he was sitting upright, she could see that he was quite fit. In fact, he’d filled out, but she’d bet money there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him anywhere.

  “You look good, Bailey,” he said, his gaze direct and unblinking.

  Bailey worked to hold his stare. “Thanks. So do you.” It was true, but she hated that she’d noticed and been so affected by the fact.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  Bailey didn’t have a good answer for that one. “I-I’m not sure yet. I’m working on getting lodging for all the cast and crew. This change of venue has happened so quickly, I haven’t figured out my situation yet.”

  “What about Aames? He’d be thrilled to have you,” Seth said.

  Yes, her daddy would love that. “I wish I could stay with him, but he’s too far from the center of town. I need to be within shouting distance to the action.” If she were staying outside of town at her daddy’s house, it would put her at a disadvantage if she was needed in a pinch. “Plus, the cell service out in the woods is iffy.”

  “Gotcha.” He nodded in the general direction of the street. “Maybe you should check with Mrs. Wiggins.”

  Mrs. Wiggins, if she remembered correctly, was a tiny older lady who owned the historical Victorian home across the street in the center of downtown. “Does she rent rooms now?” When Bailey had lived here in Ministry, she did not. In fact, Bailey had a memory of Mrs. Wiggins’s grandchildren running around her tiny yard.

  “Mrs. Wiggins has turned her home into four apartments for short- or long-term renters. They’re very nice, with high ceilings and big windows, and a view of downtown. She doesn’t have any renters right now. She’s extremely picky about who she allows into her home because she still lives downstairs. Personally, I think she only does it for the company when she’s in the mood.”

  Bailey smiled at that thought. How nice to live to be a certain age and have that kind of choice, depending on your mood. “I’ll check and see what the status is with her apartments.”

  “You might also try Evangeline House since they’re only a few blocks away. Mrs. Laroux remarried and lives with her husband, Howard. They’ve added a B&B in addition to the event planning business.”

  Bailey had pulled out her notebook and was scribbling away. “This is very helpful. Thank you, Seth.” She looked up, realizing anew to whom she spoke. Those darn blue eyes gave her a kick before she could protect herself. He was older now, of course, but twelve years had done nothing to diminish his good looks. He was her age—thirty.

  “I took an oath to serve and protect,” he grinned as he said the words.

  And those dimples. She knew he wasn’t married based on the intel fed to her by Daddy and Cammie. But Bailey did wonder how he’d gone this long in a woman-saturated town like Ministry without getting hitched. Yes, she knew he’d dated here and there, but never married.

  “You’ve done well here, Seth. I’m happy for you.” She meant it. In fact, it would’ve made her happier if she’d come back and he’d been joyfully married with a half dozen kids. His being single, well, that was more complicated. Not actually complicated, more in her head than in reality.

  “And look at you, Miz Hollywood. This job. It’s everything you dreamed of when you left.” He smiled as he said, it but there were some unspoken things in his words, and in his eyes as he held her gaze.

 
Bailey wasn’t going anywhere near that. She pretended not to notice the underlying angst. Instead she stayed with the superficial. “It’s been a climb for sure. I started as the lowest gopher on the set and have worked my way up. So, yes, Hollywood has been an adventure.”

  “I’m glad you’ve made your dreams come true.” He let that hang there.

  “Thanks.” She let that hang there.

  Now it was getting beyond awkward. “So, how’s your momma?” Bailey asked, because she did want to know. Joella McKay held a special place in Bailey’s heart and always would. When Bailey’d left Ministry at such a young age, she’d missed Joella almost as much as she had Daddy and Seth.

  He smiled. “She’s great. Same as ever. Owns the Pizza Pie now. Pizza Joe passed last year and left it to her. She was as surprised as anybody when the attorney called her into the reading of the will and told her. But anybody with half a brain knew Joe was crazy about her.” The old man had always seen Joella as the daughter he’d never had. She’d worked there and helped him run the place for years.

  “Oh, wow. That’s great. I’ll have to stop in and say hello.” The Pizza Pie had been around as long as anyone could remember. It was the only pizza establishment in the downtown area and did a steady business year-round. But Pizza Joe didn’t have a lick of family. It was great to know his business and legacy would carry on.

  “She would love that.” His smile was genuine, but there was something else; it was the easy grin she remembered so well, but he kind of smirked like he knew something she didn’t.

  “What?” she asked, in reference to his expression.

  He shook his head but said by way of explanation, “It’s nice to see you, Bailey.”

  The old familiarity threatened to overwhelm her. That tug in his voice, the face she hadn’t seen in so many years. God, how she’d missed him. He wasn’t the wiry boy anymore, but he was still the same Seth.

  No! She couldn’t allow herself to get sucked back in by his easy manner and charm. “So who do I speak with about filming our scenes during the next couple weeks? I’ll need to pull permits and such for blocking off streets, catering trucks, parking trailers, and running electrical cables, etcetera. We need to establish a shooting calendar based on the activities happening here in town, so I’ll need an official list of times and a schedule.”

  Bailey would normally have done these things weeks before filming began, but she was in a pinch. “I apologize for hitting you with this all so last minute, but that’s what we’re dealing with—a last-minute save—so I appreciate it.”

  “I’ll help with the permits. Leave me a list of all the specifics you need. Check with Miss Maureen at Evangeline House when you inquire about rooms there. She’s still in charge of the Christmas Committee. She knows it all like clockwork. Nothing happens here without her blessing.”

  Bailey would need to make a list to send to the buyer ahead of time of anything else the set dressers required for filming. She would call Miss Maureen in the morning to see about stopping by for a meeting. Bailey had fond memories of Maureen Laroux, who was Cammie and Ben’s mom. Bailey had spent quite a lot of time in their household over the years.

  Speaking of Christmas magic… Seth had been a big part of Bailey’s Christmas magic. Always. He’d not only been her boyfriend in high school, but they’d grown up together as neighbors outside of town. She couldn’t remember a time that Seth wasn’t nearby. He was tied to everything in Ministry. That’s why coming back here wasn’t as simple as avoiding Seth. That would have been easy. Avoiding memories of Seth was hard.

  As she thanked him for his help, Bailey tried to distance herself from that tug toward him. She’d been back here an hour and it had already started. Who do you think you are coming back here and pretending this is going to be easy because you’re all grown-up and fancy? Her inner child mocked her. How dare she get above her raising? Ugh. Her Alabama was showing already.

  *

  As Bailey crossed the street to Mrs. Wiggins’s house, she reset her resolve. She must not get dragged backward into the vortex of the past. Twelve years had passed since she’d left. Twelve years ago, Bailey tore herself away from everyone she’d ever loved to forge a new future. Coming back for more than a quick weekend was certainly risky, she’d known that. But this reaction at coming face-to-face with Seth?

  If she’d looked into a crystal ball and seen, no felt, her reaction to Seth, Bailey might have tried harder to find a different little Christmas paradise—far from Alabama. Surely there were other places where perfect Christmases were guaranteed.

  But Bailey knew everyone here; and they knew her. Time was short to get things done, and dealing with strangers would’ve been much harder. That’s what she kept telling herself anyway.

  As she rang the doorbell to Mrs. Wiggins’s home, Bailey realized she was being watched. From the transom windows on either side of the massive front door stared sightless eyes about a foot from the ground. Bailey noticed the cats were staring at her but weren’t moving, even after she’d rung the bell and knocked on the big door with the giant wreath and red bow.

  The cats were real, clearly they were. How bizarre this was.

  Mrs. Wiggins opened the door a small crack and inquired what her business might be.

  “Hi there. I’m Bailey Boone. Sheriff McKay suggested I ask about vacancies. I’m looking to rent some rooms as soon as possible.” Bailey couldn’t help but notice how tiny Mrs. Wiggins really was. Smaller even than she remembered. Bailey wasn’t super tall, but the woman couldn’t be five feet even.

  And those cats.

  She continued to size Bailey up for another moment through the crack in the door. “Well, dear, if the sheriff sent you, I guess you’d better come on in.” She opened the door wider. Wide enough for Bailey to get a gander at the sentinel cats. They were stuffed. Like by a professional. Real cats stuffed like when hunters killed wild game. And there were doilies. So many doilies and Tiffany lamps. She’d taken a step into the past.

  “I saw you admiring my babies,” she said.

  Bailey stared at Mrs. Wiggins. She now questioned the woman’s sanity. “Um, yes. They’re—”

  “Junior over at the taxidermist’s office preserves my babies for perpetuity so I can always have them by my side,” she said by way of explanation.

  “O-oh. I’ve never heard of doing that with cats,” Bailey said, working not to pass judgment of this strangeness.

  The woman giggled. “That’s alright. Some people think it’s pretty weird but I don’t give a dog’s behind about their opinions.”

  She then noticed the delicious aroma. “Are you baking something?” Bailey couldn’t help but ask.

  “Why yes, dear. It’s my shortbread. The coffee shop across the street sells it, so I pretty much bake it every day. Have been for years. You’ll have to get used to it if you’re going to stay here.”

  Bailey came out of her aromatic trance as her stomach growled loudly. “Oh, sorry. I just got into town. I haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

  “Come into the kitchen and we’ll talk turkey. Turkey sandwiches, that is.” Mrs. Wiggins’s shoes squeaked as she walked—or waddled more like. The woman was as sweet and kind as she’d barely remembered.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Bailey protested.

  “Honey, I’ll never let it be said that I didn’t feed a hungry traveler. Or one of my tenants. So, tell me about your need of my rooms.”

  The kitchen had been updated within the decade, thankfully, and Mrs. Wiggins constructed the most amazing sandwich—with piles of sliced turkey, honey mustard, fresh tomatoes, and tiny slices of red onions—Bailey had ever eaten. She wanted to cry with joy from the pleasure. Then the tiny woman added one thick slice of shortbread onto her plate, still hot from the oven.

  “I’ve heard about the movie madness coming to our town in a matter of days. I’m assuming you’ll need a place to stay for yourself and a few others?” she asked as Bailey continued to stuff her mouth a
nd chew.

  Bailey nodded and finally replied. “Yes. I would love to stay here, along with a few other people. I will let you meet them before they move in.” Bailey figured if the coffee shop bought Mrs. Wiggins’s food to sell and Bailey could see her way past the stuffed cats, this place was really pretty cool.

  “I trust the sheriff. If he trusts you, then that’s alright with me. How long will you need the rooms?” She snapped her tiny finger. “Wait a dang minute. You and the sheriff used to be an item when y’all were youngsters if I remember correctly. Well, that makes sense now.” Mrs. Wiggins grinned slyly, as if she’d solved a great puzzle.

  “Uh, yes. We, um, were kids back then. Only acquaintances now though,” Bailey hurried to mitigate any early gossip. “Oh, until just before Christmas should be enough time for our principal actors to do their scenes on the set here in Ministry.”

  “Okay. I’ll get to work on the leases. I keep the apartments move-in ready if you’d like to have a look now,” she said with a weirdly shrewd sparkle in her eye.

  Bailey had finally finished scarfing down her sandwich and was savoring the last crumb of shortbread. “Oh, okay. Sure. I figured I’d stay the night at my dad’s or the inn tonight until I figured something out for myself.”

  Mrs. Wiggins squeaked over to a kitchen cabinet where there were several sets of keys hanging on cup holders. She pulled off the keys hanging on 1A and motioned for Bailey to follow her.

  They climbed the stairs very slowly. She was again amazed by the doilies. Daddy had doilies that had been crocheted by Bailey’s grandmother, the one she’d never met, in a trunk.

  Mrs. Wiggins turned the key in the heavy door at the end of the hallway marked 1A. It was amazing. The ceilings were easily fourteen feet high. The floors were darkly stained wood and appeared to be freshly finished. The apartment smelled of beeswax and lavender. And the windows. They ran the length of the main living space and overlooked the charming downtown all decorated for Christmas. Bailey could see the Ministry Inn, the Pizza Pie, and the sheriff’s office from her living room window.