Lakeshore Christmas by Susan Wiggs Read Free Book Online

shine of very old burns, imperfectly healed.
    An older guy with iron-gray hair and a long overcoat came toward them. “Cecil,” he said in a voice grating with disapproval, “what’s going on here?”
    “I knocked this thing over,” the boy named Cecil said. “Sorry, Grandpa.”
    The older guy looked exasperated. Cecil worked faster, trying to round up the spilled coins while Jabez reassembled the tripod. A couple of minutes later, everything was back in place. The grandfather strode away toward a sleek Maybach. The kid started after him, hesitated and dug a dollar bill from his pocket, stuffing it into the collection bucket. Jabez thanked him, but he probably didn’t hear as he rushed to catch up with his grandfather.
    Eddie studied the boy named Jabez, who was staring thoughtfully after them. Actually, a lot of people were staring at the Maybach, since you didn’t see a car like that every day, but Jabez seemed more focused on the older guy.
    “He looks familiar,” Jabez said.
    “Everything all right?” asked Eddie.
    “Sure,” said the boy.
    “You hungry?” Eddie held out the sack.
    “No, I’m good. Really. But thanks.”
    Eddie had learned not to push for too much information. That often resulted in a kid running off and disappearing for good. “You like doing volunteer work?”
    The kid indicated the Salvation Army bucket. “Guess so.”
    “Good. A group of us are going to be putting up a nativity scene Friday night—you know what that is?”
    The kid chuckled. “Yeah, I know what a nativity scene is.”
    “Just asking. Anyway, they could use more volunteers.” He scribbled the time and a place on his white deli bag,tore it off and handed it to Jabez. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
    Jabez took the slip of paper and put it into his breast pocket. “Maybe you will.”

Four
    A fter her meeting with Eddie Haven, Maureen was convinced of at least two things. First, Eddie was going to be a big problem in the weeks to come. And second, he was not the worst thing she could expect to happen this week.
    She felt an ominous sense of apprehension as she stayed late at the library the next day. An important board meeting would convene at closing time. Although not a member of the library board, she was a key participant in their meetings. While waiting for the small group to arrive, she went through the usual ritual of securing the building. When she reached the main entrance, she stepped outside, breathing deeply of the crisp, empty air.
    A light snowfall would be nice, she thought, surveying the parklike surroundings. In a side garden with an ancient yew rumored to have been brought from the yard of Cadbury Castle in England, there was a smallish, lonely-looking block of granite with a commemorative plaque. It was an unassuming monument to the unknown boy who had died in the library fire a hundred years before.
    The trees had long since dropped their colorful mantles of leaves. The grass had gone dormant and lay dry and beaten down, as if it would never grow again. An air of bleakness hovered everywhere, giving the place a sense of waiting. A good, clean snowfall would change everything. Situated on the east side of Willow Lake, the town of Avalon usually received early and copious snow. But the weather came in its own time, and a simple wish would not hurry it along.
    Enough moping around, she told herself. It would take a lot more than Eddie Haven or even a fiasco at work to ruin her Christmas.
    Time to go inside and get ready for the meeting. As she passed beneath the library building’s arched portico of figured concrete, she could still feel an echo of reverence. The entry to the library was designed to inspire it. Chiseled into the concrete were the words Make thy books thy companions. Let thy cases and shelves be thy pleasure grounds and gardens.—Judah ibn-Tibbon (12th century). Which was a diplomatic way of saying, Maureen supposed, that it was all right to have no life.
    She wasn’t being