
Guarding Her Christmas Secret
Author
Jill Weatherholt
Reads
16.2K
Chapters
17
Chapter One
It was a mistake. That was the only explanation.
Cody Beckettâs cowboy boots hit the fresh layer of snow coating the parking lot of Mountain View Academy, in Bluebell Canyon, Colorado. Hershey, his one-year-old German shepherd, barked before flopping down on her fluffy, down feather dog bed Cody kept in the back seat. âIâll be back as soon as I can, girl.â Cody slammed the door of his extended-cab pickup truck and headed inside the school.
Stomping his feet on the rubber mat covering the tiled floor, he bent over and brushed the snow off his favorite pair of worn Leviâs. During the car ride to the school, he played the voicemail from the school secretary over in his mind. He removed his black Stetson and made his way to the principalâs office. The aroma of Tater Tots from the school cafeteria filled the air. His stomach tightened with each step.
Five months had passed since he became guardian to his best friendâs six-year-old twin girls. During that time, Cody witnessed no mean-spirited behavior from McKenzie or Madison. Now McKenzie had been in a fight on the playgroundâno way. Something wasnât adding up. This had to be a big misunderstanding.
âMr. Beckett, thank you for coming so quickly.â
The short, gray-haired woman stood from behind the L-shaped reception desk and scurried to Codyâs side. âCan I get you some water while you wait? Principal Murray is finishing up a phone conference. Miss Simpson should be here with McKenzie any minute. Madison is helping Mrs. Fletcher, the librarian, shelf some books until you finish your meeting.â
At six feet, four inches tall, Cody towered over the woman. âWater would be great, Mrs. Perkins.â Codyâs mouth felt about as dry as a three-minute egg long forgotten on the stove. With the upcoming Parentsâ Night on Friday, this wasnât how he wanted to meet the twinsâ teacher. He didnât know much about her, only that sheâd recently moved to town to fill the vacant position.
Cody gripped the hat between his fingers and paced the floor until Mrs. Perkins returned with the water. He glanced at the picture window across the room. The snowfall had increased in intensity along with the wind, hiding the Rocky Mountains skyline.
âHere you go.â Mrs. Perkins handed off the water before rushing back to the desk to answer the ringing phone. âMondays always make me question why I havenât retired,â she called out over her shoulder.
Cody unscrewed the lid. With one long gulp, he downed half the bottle.
Moments later from outside the office door, McKenzieâs giggles echoed in the hall. Her mood certainly didnât sound like a child summoned to the principalâs office.
Cody popped his head outside the door and spotted McKenzie. She skipped alongside an attractive brunette with shoulder-length hair that framed a heart-shaped face. Cody heard from the twins that their new teacher was young. They werenât kidding. Or maybe being forty-five makes everyone look young.
The teacher wore black, slim fit pants and a light pink sweater paired with black boots that hit below the knee. Despite the flat boots, she stood at least five feet, nine inches tall. The woman definitely didnât look like any of the teachers he had growing up in Whispering Slopes, Virginia. Holding McKenzieâs hand while smiling down at her student, she looked more like a fashion model.
âUncle Cody!â McKenzie raced toward Cody, all smiles. Her shoulder-length curls bounced. She wrapped her arms tight around his waist. âThis is my new teacher, Miss Simpson. Isnât she pretty?â McKenzie stepped away, creating a private space for Cody and the teacher.
âItâs nice to meet you, Mr. Beckett. Iâm Hannah Simpson.â A pink hue filled her cheeks as her delicate fingers reached for his.
âI only wish it was under better circumstances.â Cody glanced down at McKenzie. âIâm not sure what happened today on the playground, but I can assure you, it wonât happen again. Isnât that right, McKenzie?â
âAmber started it, but whatever.â She shrugged her shoulders. âIâm just glad youâre here to meet Miss Simpson.â
Cody wasnât sure why McKenzie didnât seem bothered by the fact that she was about to meet with the principal. Something wasnât adding up. Maybe tonight he could get some information from her sister. Cody turned to Hannah. âI assume Amber and her folks will be in the meeting as well?â
Hannah nodded. âHer parents are on their way. The weather is delaying them by a few minutes.â
Mrs. Perkins stood at the desk. âExcuse me, but Principal Murray emailed me. Her telephone conference with the school board is running longer than expected. Youâre welcome to use the smaller conference room, if youâd like. McKenzie can stay with me and color.â Mrs. Perkins pointed to the large bulletin board on the wall decorated with drawings and colorful artwork created by the students. âShe can make a contribution to our student art gallery.â
âI want to draw a picture of Uncle Codyâs dog.â McKenzie looked up at her teacher and smiled.
âThat sounds like a wonderful idea. What kind of dog is it?â Cody watched as Hannah took McKenzieâs hand and guided her to the round walnut table in the corner of the office. Mrs. Perkins busied herself setting out the crayons, markers, colored pencils, and some paper.
âA German shepherd. Uncle Cody named her Hershey. He thinks she looks like a big chocolate candy bar since sheâs dark brown,â McKenzie giggled before settling into the chair and reaching for the brown crayon and pencil.
âIâd like to see your picture when youâre finished,â Hannah said, flashing an endearing smile.
McKenzie nodded, already focused on her drawing.
âShall we go have a seat in the conference room?â Hannah tipped her head toward the half-opened door.
âSounds good. Iâd like to hear what happened today. My guess is just typical playground mischief.â Cody attempted to downplay the situation. He strolled casually inside the small room and hit the light switch. The fluorescent bulb overhead buzzed and flickered, casting a sterile glow over the room. He took a seat at the table.
Hannah followed him inside, her expression serious. She sat down across from Cody and squared her shoulders. âIt wasnât exactly typical mischief, Mr. Beckett.â
âPlease call me Cody,â he said.
Hannah nodded. âSince itâs only you and I, you can call me Hannah.â
âWill do. So what happened today?â
âMcKenzie got into an altercation with Amber during recess.â
Cody rubbed the back of his neck. He placed both hands on the table and clasped his fingers together. âKids will be kids. Iâm sure it was just a minor disagreement or something. McKenzie doesnât have a mean bone in her body.â
Hannah folded her arms across her chest. A small grimace lined her lips. âMcKenzie and Amber had a physical confrontation. Amber ended up with a scratch on her face, and McKenzie has a torn coat.â
Cody shifted his weight in the chair. âKids roughhouse sometimes. Itâs a part of growing up, right?â According to his father, Cody and his brothersâLuke, Jake and Loganâused to get into scuffles with classmates, but they turned out okay.
Hannah leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. âI understand children have conflicts, but physical aggression is not something we can ignore. Itâs important to determine the underlying reason behind her anger. We want McKenzie to learn ways to handle her emotions.â
Cody shook his head, but remained quiet.
âYou donât agree?â Hannahâs eyebrows drew up on her forehead.
Cody released a long breath. âLook, I appreciate your concern. I know youâre doing your job, but I donât want to blow this out of proportion. McKenzieâs just a kid. I want her and Madison to enjoy their childhood. Theyâve both been through so much in the past year. I donât think itâs necessary to turn this into a big lesson. I can take care of this privately, at home.â
Hannahâs expression softened. âIâve read the girlsâ file, so Iâm aware they lost their father. Itâs tragic, but as McKenzieâs legal guardian, itâs important for you to guide her and set boundaries. Part of your responsibility is to teach her how to resolve conflicts peacefully and express her emotions appropriately. Fighting is never a solution.â
Cody leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He considered Hannahâs words. Raising children came naturally to his brothers. Much like how his younger brother, Luke, made being a popular bull rider appear easy. Codyâs bull riding career was never as successful. Maybe he wasnât the right person to raise his best friendâs kids? âIâm doing the best I can. McKenzie and Madison hardly know me. I want the girls to like me and to feel comfortable coming to me with their problems. We can handle this without making it a big deal.â
âI understand you want to be their friend.â Hannah softened her tone. âBut itâs important to find a balance between being a friend and a parent. As their teacher, I want them to like me too, but I must set boundaries. I believe we can work together to find a middle ground. Iâd like to help you.â
The knock on the door brought their discussion to an endâat least for now.
Mrs. Perkins peeked her head inside. âPrincipal Murrayâs telephone conference has concluded. Sheâs in the larger conference room with Amberâs parents whenever youâre ready.â
Cody pushed away from the table. His mind swirled with doubt. As they headed to the meeting, Hannahâs concerned expression lingered in his mind. Was he capable of being the parent these girls needed? The weight of his responsibilities as McKenzie and Madisonâs legal guardian bore down on him, reminding him of the challenges that lay ahead. After the New Year, heâd face one of the biggest decisions in his life. Should he adopt the twins, or would they have a more promising future if raised by someone more capable? Cody took a deep breath and stepped into the conference room.
Wednesday after school, Hannah stepped inside the Bluebell Canyon post office. Two weeks earlier, sheâd left Phoenix hoping for a fresh start and purchased a post office box. So far, the secrets from her past clung to her like gum on the bottom of a shoe.
During Hannahâs first week of settling into her small, rented cottage just outside of town, a parade of neighbors stopped by to welcome her to town. No one came empty-handed. She had enough home-cooked meals and baked goods stocked in her freezer to last her until next Christmasâif she stayed that long. With an option to purchase, the home was a perfect choice to give her an opportunity to reinvent herself and hopefully bury her past.
The soft hum of conversations mixed with the clatter of packages being sorted in the back room filled the air. Hannah slipped her key inside the box and pulled out a stack of various sized envelopes.
She fingered through the pile of mostly bills and junk mail. Her hands froze. Wilma Simpson. Hannahâs heart hammered against her chest at the sight of her mother-in-lawâs return address. The weight of the envelope hinted at something more than a letter or card.
âHello, Miss Simpson.â Ben Willis, the postmaster, threw up a hand. He smiled from across the room. âI hope youâre doing well today. Let me know if you need any mailing supplies.â
Barely hearing the portly gray-haired man, Hannah managed a weak smile in return. She staggered to the counter in a quiet corner. Her legs struggled to keep her upright. An uneasy dread seeped into her veins. She pulled her index finger through the envelopeâs seal. Three photographs escaped the folded letter that simply read, I thought youâd enjoy these. Call me when you have time. Love, Wilma. The photos fluttered onto the tiled floor.
Hannahâs gaze fell upon the image of her deceased husbandâs warm and genuine smile, now scattered on the ground. Time slowed. Beside him stood their eight-year-old daughter, Jenna, once full of life. The childâs smile radiated from the glossy colored print. Hannah had captured the moment of what would be their last family trip to the sandy beach of coastal Carolina. Rickâs hometown and favorite vacation spot.
Emotions erupted like an active volcano. Hannahâs surroundings closed in, feeling like a weighted, suffocating blanket. Her breath grew shallow. Panic squeezed her senses like a vise.
Not here. Not where everyone could see her.
Sheâd come to Bluebell Canyon to bury her past, not to have the townspeople take pity on her. The looks of pity were unbearable.
As grief threatened to pull her under and steal her last breath, Hannah scanned the room for a quick getaway. A restroom. Any place to hunker down until the panic attack passed. The post office, now a disorienting maze, made an escape impossible.
Her eyes welled with tears, blinding her to the other two photos on the floor. Yet she didnât care. Hannah didnât want any reminders of the past. It was the reason sheâd crated all evidence of the family stolen from her in the horrific carbon monoxide incident. A once happy life now stuffed into twenty sealed boxes and stacked against the cinder block wall of her rental home. Unpacking them would only cause more pain.
Following the advice of her therapist, she inhaled several deep breaths to ground herself into the present. With great effort, she bent over, scooped the pictures between her fingers and crammed them into her purse, ready to make her escape.
âHannah. Are you okay?â
No. Please. Not him. Not nowâanyone but him.
Hannah looked up and confirmed the deep, familiar voice was indeed Cody. She brushed her hair off her face and forced a smile. âIâm just a little overwhelmed by the pile of bills and junk mail today. You know how that goes.â
Cody blinked rapidly. He moved closer and leaned in. âYou seem upset.â
His dark brown hair smelled like a freshly cut Christmas tree. âI appreciate your concern, but I promise Iâm fine.â
âYouâre shaking. Do you want to go outside and get some air?â His eyes narrowed.
Fresh air. It was definitely what she needed, but not his company. She couldnât be rude, but Hannah didnât want her behavior to expose her secret. Telling Cody about that part of her life would create more panic. Sheâd seen the horrified look in othersâ eyes when sheâd told the story of her loss. They couldnât imagine how anyone survived such a tragedy. Hannah often wondered that herself. She couldnât risk a panic attack in front of Cody. It could cost her the job that sheâd grown to love. In the short time since filling the teaching position, being with the children filled a hole left in her heart. âThat sounds good.â Hannah adjusted her purse strap over her coat.
Outside, the frosty blast of air provided a welcome relief. Wispy, fair weather clouds meandered across the vibrant blue sky. âThis feels good.â Hannah took a deep breath while they walked with no particular destination.
âSo youâre a cold weather gal?â Cody slipped his hands into the back pocket of his jeans.
âItâs not too bad if you dress properly.â She needed to keep the focus off of her and what had happened in the post office. âDid you grow up in Bluebell Canyon?â
âNo, Iâm originally from the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. My family moved here after inheriting some land.â
âMy best friend in college was from Virginia. It looks like a beautiful state.â Hannah was relieved sheâd been able to bounce back from the panic attack. Previous episodes often had lingering effects, particularly the ones that hit her in the middle of the night. They were the worst. A week following the death of her husband and daughter, Hannah experienced the first attack. She thought she was going to die.
âI love Bluebell Canyon, but Virginia will always be home.â Cody stopped in his tracks. âWould you like to grab a cup of coffee? Sally makes a great brew.â
âThe Hummingbird CafĂŠâI love hummingbirds. I saw the place when I first moved to town. Iâve been meaning to pop in there.â
âNo time like the present. You can give me an update on McKenzie. Youâll probably be too busy to discuss her classroom behavior on Friday at Parentsâ Night.â
Hannah glanced at her watch. With no other plans and a half hour before a meeting at school, she nodded. âLetâs go.â
Cody scaled the front steps to the porch and opened the gate. Black wrought iron fencing surrounded the spacious covered patio area.
Hannah followed, admiring the quaint bistro tables.
âSince the sun is warm, if youâd like, we can sit outside. There are overhead heaters we can request to be turned on if itâs too cold for you,â Cody explained.
âOutside sounds nice.â At times, being outdoors following a panic attack was better for her.
Cody pulled out a chair for Hannah. She settled in and tipped her face to the sky. âThis feels great.â
âIâll go inside and grab some coffee. How would you like yours?â
âTwo sugars and two creams,â Hannah answered.
âSounds more like a milkshake to me.â Cody laughed and headed inside.
Milkshake.
Hannahâs husband always teased her about the way she liked to drink her coffee. He said it was like drinking a chocolate milkshake.
Despite the cold air, beads of sweat swept across Hannahâs brow. Her heartbeat echoed in her eardrums.
Relax.
Breathe.
The sounds of passing cars and people moving along the sidewalk amplified. Determined to ground herself, Hannah took slow and deep breaths. Her fingers quivered while she reached inside of her purse for a piece of peppermint gum. She ripped open the foil wrapper and raised the piece to her lips. A minty aroma wafted up her nose before she popped the gum into her mouth.
Hannah closed her eyes and kept her focus on the rhythmic motion of her jaw, allowing it to fill her mind with fond childhood memories. As a young girl, her mother would give her peppermint gum to settle her nerves before the first day of school, or when she got anxious about an upcoming test.
The coolness of the peppermint slowed her breaths while her muscles relaxed. This one wasnât as bad, she continued to tell herself until Cody returned carrying two cups of coffee in oversize foam cups.
âYouâll never taste a better brew. Sally Raphine, the owner, is like a coffee bean magician.â He offered the beverage along with a broad smile that brightened his hazel eyes.
Hannah discreetly slipped the chewed piece of gum back into the foil and tucked it into her purse to be thrown away later. She lifted the cup with both hands, allowing the heat to warm her palms. She inhaled before taking a drink. âIt smells wonderful.â She took a sip. âYouâre right. Itâs delicious.â
Cody leaned in, clutching the sides of his cup. âSo be honest, how has McKenzie been behaving in school the last few days?â
The last thing Hannah wanted to do was to steal Codyâs gorgeous smile. Frankly, she was enjoying it way more than she should, but he asked for honesty. âSheâs had a few outbursts that have disrupted the classroom.â
Codyâs shoulders slumped. âSheâs been a bit of a handful at home, too. Since our meeting on Monday, Iâve made a point of asking her about her day at school. She never says anything, so I was hopeful things were better. Madison was tight-lipped when I asked her about McKenzieâs behavior. I guess they work as a team.â
âI think thatâs fairly common with twins.â Hannah took a quick sip of her coffee. âI donât know many children who come home from school and confess they misbehaved.â
âWhy didnât you call me down to the school?â
âMy mother was a single parent. I know itâs difficult trying to juggle everything. Calling you to the school each time McKenzie acts out wonât solve the problem.â
Cody raked his hand through his thick brown hair. âDonât take this the wrong way, but before you took over as her teacher, none of this was happening. School was a place where she excelled. You can ask Mrs. Howard. She was McKenzieâs teacher before she retired and you took over.â
Hannah learned early in her career not to take things personally. By doing so, it helped to keep the lines of communication open between her and the parents. âActually, I spoke with Mrs. Howard yesterday. Iâm aware this behavior isnât normal for McKenzie.â
âSo what do we do?â Cody leaned back and sighed.
âWeâll keep a close eye on her and continue to keep each other informed.â Hannah reached inside her purse. She removed a pad of paper and pen to jot down her contact information. âHereâs my cell number and email address. Please reach out with questions or concerns.â She tore away the paper and slid it across the table.
Cody picked up the information. âCan I borrow a piece?â
Hannah passed the paper and waited while Cody wrote down his contact info.
âI hope I didnât offend you by my comment about McKenzie not acting out until you took over the class.â He reached across the table with the piece of paper. âI wasnât casting blame on you. Iâm just trying to figure out why the sudden change.â
Hannah accepted the paper and tucked it inside her purse. She looked up and smiled. âNo offense taken. Weâre on the same team. I hope youâll remember that. I only want whatâs best for your daughter.â
She couldnât miss the tightening in Codyâs jaw. âDid I say something wrong?â
Cody shook his head. âNo. Itâs just McKenzie and Madison arenât legally my daughters. I canât help but wonder if thatâs part of the reason McKenzieâs behavior changed. After the New Year, the law will allow for me to file for adoption. Lately, Iâm conflicted about my decision. Do you think McKenzie can sense it?â He looked up, maybe hoping for an answer.
Hannah nodded. âItâs possible. Children can be quite perceptive. I donât want to pry, but would you like to share the story behind your becoming the girlsâ guardian?â
Cody took a swig of his coffee and placed the cup on the table. âScott, their father, was my best friend. We grew up together in Virginia. After his parents died, we were like brothers since he didnât have any other family. He was happily married to Lisa. Out of the blue sheâd become distant. Scott begged her to go to counseling, but she refused. She told Scott she was pregnant with his twins, but didnât want them because sheâd fallen in love with someone else. Neither she nor her new partner wanted children. With the help of an attorney, Scott ended up paying her a large amount of money to carry the twins and turn over her parental rights. After the girls were born, Lisa signed the papers, but shortly after, she drowned in a boating accident. Life moved on. For almost six years, Scott and the girls were a happy family until he was crossing the street and was hit by a car. He suffered a severe head injury and passed away a week later.â
Hannah could see the pain was still fresh for Cody. âIâm so sorry.â
Cody nodded. âA year before the accident, heâd been preparing his will. He called to ask me if I would be the girlsâ guardian if something ever happened to him. When I agreed, I never imagined heâd be gone a year later. Maybe I was wrong to not take the position more seriously.â
âDonât be so hard on yourself. Most people donât expect the worst will happen when making such arrangements.â Hannah never dreamed when she left for her trip and said goodbye to her family, it would be the last time sheâd ever see them.
âI want to honor Scottâs wishes, but lately, I donât feel like Iâm the most qualified person to raise the girls.â
âMcKenzie and Madison have both talked endlessly about your business training dogs. Maybe you could get them involved. It might be a way for you to establish a stronger bond and get to know them better.â
âFunny, I discussed that very thing with my brothers the other day. We thought it was a good idea, too.â
âIt might help McKenzie channel some of her emotions in a positive way. She may find some solace and responsibility in caring for the dogs.â Hannah glanced at her watch. âI hate to be rude, but I have a meeting at school.â She fished in her bag, removed her wallet and laid a ten-dollar bill on the table.
Cody extended his hand across the table. âYour moneyâs no good here. After all of your free adviceâitâs my treat.â
âThanks.â Hannah grabbed her cup. âI guess Iâll see you on Friday evening?â
âRightâthe Parentsâ Night. Iâll be there.â
Hannah pushed away from the table. âOh, I almost forgot to ask you. If youâd like, Iâd love to have you come speak to the class about your work. Maybe bring a dog with you? The children would love it,â Hannah said.
âName the date and timeâIâd be happy to visit.â
âIs Monday morning at eleven oâclock too short of notice? The children usually have show-and-tell that day. I thought maybe I could surprise them with my showâa professional dog trainer.â
Cody nodded. âYou got it.â
Hannah inhaled a deep breath. Cody had a big decision to make about the girlsâ future. He was a good man and certainly easy on the eyes. Maybe exchanging personal contact information wasnât such a great idea, but she wanted to help.
She shook away thoughts of Cody and scurried down the sidewalk for her meeting at the school. Afterward, she planned to contact the mayorâs office to schedule an appointment to meet with him. Thanks to Nellie Garrison from the local mercantile, sheâd learned the town was in need. If the mayor accepted her offer to take over as coordinator of the annual Christmas festival, Hannah could make a bigger contribution to the community. Maybe then she could put her past behind her and hopefully put a stop to the panic attacks.















































