“Can I ask you a question?” She didn’t know what he would say, but if she was delicate, he might answer. Her conversation with Mrs. Smith about Holt’s missing father gave her an idea she would pass on to Holt. Surely some of the other older residents in the area might remember him and recall his mother’s boyfriend’s name. If Holt found more of his old friends, he might learn something. Caitlin was about to exhaust her supply of acquaintances in town. Alice was no help. She’d moved to the area only a few years ago. But Doc Coates used to live here and seemed to be the right age to have known Holt’s mother. Maybe he could tell her something.
“You just asked one.” He grinned.
“Besides that.” Caitlin waved a hand. Her suspicion might be totally unfounded, but now that she thought about his history in town, she had a feeling about Doc Coates. It might be the daftest idea she’d had yet. But was his grin not quite Holt’s, but not completely different? “You said you lived here for a short time before you went into the service and had your career. You must have traveled all over the world. Why did you come back?”
His expression turned pensive. “None of the places I’d been stationed appealed to me after I retired. I was a med tech in the service but spent a lot of time with K9 units, which gave me a head start on vet school. So I did that, then started looking for a place to settle. I liked this area, or maybe just the girlfriend I left behind.”
He looked uncomfortable enough to make Caitlin wonder if he’d left behind the love of his life. “What happened to her?”
“I came back once on leave and tried to see her. Her aunt told me she was gone. When I tried to convince her to tell me where Jenny was, the aunt claimed she’d died, then closed the door in my face without telling me what happened to her.”
Jenny? Heraunt? Caitlin’s pulse leapt, then slowed as she pictured a younger Jim Coates facing the door that had just been slammed in his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago. Anyway, none of our school friends knew anything. If something had happened to Jenny Cooper, they should have known. Something bad would have made the papers. She just disappeared, and my leave was up. I left town and never looked back until the village vet retired at the right time for me to step in and take over the practice.”
Jenny’s last name was not Ridley, but there was an aunt, just like Holt’s mother had an aunt in her life. Caitlin didn’t want to seem too eager to find out about his past love life, so she asked, instead, “How did you find out about this job?”
“Online, like everything else these days. I checked the local paper’s web edition every now and again. Always hoped I’d see some mention of what happened to Jenny. I happened to see an article about the vet’s impending retirement and got in touch. Coming back permanently was a tough decision. A lot of memories here, not all good.”
“But you came anyway.”
“I always wondered what would have happened if I’d stayed in town. For a couple of years, even after what the aunt told me, I tried to find Jenny, but couldn’t, and eventually gave up. She was the one that got away.”
Without being obvious, she tried to study Jim Coates with Holt in mind while he talked. She thought there might be a resemblance, but her memory, or her sudden wishful thinking for a Christmas miracle and a joyful father-son reunion, were probably playing tricks on her.
Could it be? She turned to regard the puppies as she smoothed a damp hand over her pants leg. What if at some point Jenny’s name changed from Cooper to her aunt’s, Ridley, perhaps as a shot at the aunt who tossed her out on the street? Or if the aunt, as guardian, had done it before the pregnancy became known. If Jenny did move away, but to a nearby village, as a single mother, she probably would not have stayed in touch with the same circles Jim Coates knew her to frequent from high school. And if she was Holt’s mother, what a shame Doc Coates hadn’t found her— and his son— before she died for real.
Coates moved to the box and squatted next to Caitlin, studying the puppies as they nursed. He reached out to pet the mother before pushing to his feet. “I always hoped her aunt had lied and Jenny married, changed her name, and moved somewhere with someone who made her happy.”
His empathy for the animals in his care was obvious to Caitlin. His wish for his old girlfriend reinforced her good impression of him. But how would he react if he found out what Caitlin hoped was the truth? He’d said Jenny was the one that got away. Would he be open to the possibility that he had a grown son by the woman who was the love of his life? And who could tell him? Caitlin didn’t think it was her place to break news like that, but so far, she was the only one who might know the rest of Jenny’s story.
She needed a good picture of him. Or a DNA sample. Not that she would know what to do with one if she got it. But a paternity test would confirm any relationship with scientific certainty. In the meantime, she’d just have to have faith that it would all work out. And soon.
Rachel came back in before Caitlin came up with a response.
“Did you tell Doc how soon you’re leaving? I can’t believe it.” Then she perked up. “Hey, let me get a picture of the two of you, so you have that to remember us by.”
Caitlin grinned. Just what she needed. “And then the doc can take one of you and me,” she added to be polite, and because Rachel had become a friend. But she really wanted that picture of him.
They posed using Caitlin’s phone, then Caitlin made her excuses and left, prized photo safely in her possession.
* * *
Caitlin spent the next several hours studying the photo Rachel had taken of Dr. Coates, doodling on her notepad, then writing more names, drawing connecting lines, and getting nowhere. Could he be the father missing from Holt’s life? She just couldn’t be sure. About him, or about the picture of Mrs. Smith’s son in the kitchen. Deciding she wanted another look at it, she clipped her notepad under the photo of the carved curse and tucked them under a pile of paperwork. Then she got up and headed for the kitchen, intent on drowning her frustration with Holt’s family history in something deliciously diverting. “Mrs. Smith, any chance you have any of your special hot chocolate ready? I could use some about now.”
The housekeeper gave her a kind smile. “Sure, dear. Have a seat, and I’ll warm it for you. What’s wrong?”
Caitlin dropped into a chair at the kitchen table. “Nothing, really. And everything. I’ve found some things that may be important to Holt’s family history but aren’t actually proof of anything.”
Mrs. Smith poured from a pitcher in the fridge into a large mug, popped it in the microwave and tapped a few buttons. Its whir started up, and in moments, a comforting, rich scent of chocolate and spices filled the air.
Caitlin inhaled and felt the tension ooze from her shoulders. “That recipe of yours is pure magic,” she said. “Just the scent makes me feel better.”
“Christmas magic does that, you know.”
“I didn’t, until now. You might send a mug of this to Holt. I suspect he could use some Christmas magic right about now, too. He doesn’t want to believe in the Scottish kind.”
“Perhaps later. I believe he went with Farrell to the garages to inspect the antique autos. His great-aunt kept her husband’s collection, though I’ve no idea why. She never drove them.” Mrs. Smith turned at the beep and took a steaming mug from the microwave. “Now, what do you mean byhe doesn’t believe in the Scottish kind?” She set the chocolate in front of Caitlin. “Let that be for a minute or you’ll scald your tongue.”
