The Secret Christmas Child Page 8

  “Now you get friendly,” he said to the cat. He filled the sink with soapy water and started scraping and rinsing plates before plunging them in.

  Pickles meowed up at him.

  “What’s wrong, buddy? Is it dinnertime?” He spotted a pouch of cat treats on the counter and knelt to hand a couple to the cat.

  Pickles gobbled them down while Reese petted him and then meowed again.

  “Not so sour now, are ya?” He dropped more treats onto the floor.

  “Talking to the cat?” Gabby asked from the doorway, sounding amused.

  “Maybe.” He looked up at her and sucked in his breath. She looked so happy and relaxed in her sweater and jeans, hair loose around her shoulders, more like a high school kid than a mother and caregiver.

  Their eyes met and held for a moment, and then she looked away, her cheeks heating. “You don’t have to do the dishes,” she said, walking over to the sink. “You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

  “I made a mess. Wasn’t thinking about how Nana doesn’t have a dishwasher.” He nodded toward the dish towel. “I’m running out of space in the dish rack. You can dry dishes and put them away.”

  “If you’re sure. You must be tired, though.”

  He shook his head. “Not really. Besides, we should talk.”

  “Yeah.” She dried plates and stacked them in the cupboard. “I’m sorry people are gossiping, Reese. You don’t deserve to be included in that.”

  “Neither do you,” he said. “Nobody deserves to be the target of petty gossip.”

  “Thanks,” she said, “but at least I’m the actual parent of the kid in question.” Her cheeks went even pinker. “You’re not involved at all, and there’s no reason for our names to be linked together.”

  “I’m not even sure there is gossip,” Reese said. “Or at least, I’m not sure that it’s widespread. This isn’t really a gossipy town.”

  “Most of the time, no. But I have a bit of a reputation already.”

  “Because of how you were as kid and teen?” She’d been a little wild, no doubt. She’d dressed differently from the other kids, which was economic, but she’d made it seem like a choice.

  “Yeah, that. And...yeah. That.”

  She’d been going to say something else, and he wanted to know what it was, but he didn’t want to pry. He took another angle. “I hope it’s not going to push you into leaving town.”

  She glanced toward the back of the house, where quiet noise came from Nana’s television and Jacob’s video game. “I didn’t intend to stay past Christmas,” she said. “But now that I’m here, I see how Nana needs me.”

  “Jacob seems at home, too,” he said.

  “I know, and he loves Izzy. He’s so excited to be Uncle Jacob.”

  “It’s good for him.”

  “I’d like to stay and figure out a way to keep him here,” she said. “But I don’t know. Your aunt made it sound really bad, like I shouldn’t stay.”

  “Did you ever let someone like that govern your life before?”

  “Once.” Her face darkened and her eyes went far away.

  He wondered what was going through her mind. “Want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head rapidly and dried her hands on the dish towel.

  Now he was really curious. Did she mean the father of her baby?

  He had to think the guy had taken advantage of her. And what kind of jerk wouldn’t be involved in his baby’s life, no matter what had happened between him and the mother? What kind of jerk would he have to be to have Gabby bar him from Izzy’s life? He was pretty sure she wouldn’t do that capriciously.

  She brushed her hands together and looked around, avoiding his eyes. “We just have to do a little wiping up. And figure out what to do about all this gossip.”

  He grabbed a cloth and started wiping down counters. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We’re working together, and that could contribute.”

  “You’re not thinking of letting me go?”

  “No.” He stopped his cleaning and turned to face her. “Because I don’t let my aunt dictate my life, either. Gabby, you’re doing a great job and I’d actually like to keep you on full-time after Christmas if the money comes through.” Then he could have kicked himself. He hadn’t thought about the offer; it had come up spontaneously.

  She tilted her head to one side and looked up at him, studying him. “Why are you offering me that? Because you feel sorry for me?”

  “Because I need you and we work well together.” And he felt like they were having a double conversation here. He was talking about the Rescue Haven program, yes, but there was a personal thread, too.

  She bit her lip. “I’ve been thinking how good the job is for my whole...situation. If you’re serious about extending it after Christmas, I’d definitely be interested.”

  He wanted to probe into what she’d said. Did her interest have something to do with him, personally, or was it only the convenience of the job?

  But he wouldn’t push. She’d rejected him once before, and he’d been a whole man then. Now he was disabled. He didn’t know how a woman would react to a romantic overture from a man with a hook instead of a hand. He knew he was no less a man, and he wasn’t ashamed of how he looked, but you couldn’t deny that physical stuff was important in romantic relationships. If his body repulsed her, then no amount of thinking or wishing or talking was going to make things work.

  She wiped a counter that he’d already wiped clean. “Thanks for fixing dinner for us tonight,” she said, not looking at him. “It meant a lot to Nana and Jacob. To all of us, but especially me. It was fun to have the help.”

  “Anytime,” he said lightly. And, precisely because he didn’t want to leave, he dried off and went to the coatrack. “I should get on home, leave you to relax in peace.”

  “Sure. I understand.” The words sounded a little bit plaintive, and for the first time, he realized that she might be lonely in the evenings. A baby, a teenage boy and an older woman, no matter how beloved, weren’t much company after seven or eight o’clock.

  He reached out a hand, meaning to shake hers, but she grasped his and held it. Looked into his eyes. “Reese, I’m sorry about what happened before.”

  He narrowed his eyes and frowned at her. “You mean...after I went into the service?”

  She nodded and swallowed hard. “Something happened, and I couldn’t... I couldn’t keep the promise I made.”

  That something being another guy, Izzy’s father. He drew in a breath. Was he going to hold on to his grudge, or his hurt feelings, about what had happened?

  Looking into her eyes, he breathed out the last of his anger. Like Corbin had said, everyone was a sinner. “It’s understood.”

  “Thank you,” she said simply. She held his gaze for another moment and then looked down and away.

  She was still holding on to his hand, and slowly, he twisted and opened his hand until their palms were flat together. Pressed between them as close as he’d like to be pressed to Gabby.

  The only light in the room came from the kitchen and the dying fire. Outside the windows, snow had started to fall, blanketing the little house in solitude.

  This night with her family had been one of the best he’d had in a long time. Made him realize how much he missed having a family. Even made him think of the long-ago days when his parents were alive. Memories of his childhood were a little dim, but he knew his parents had agreed to endless board games and jigsaw puzzles, sometimes with just Reese and sometimes with friends he’d invited over. His mom, especially, had known what it was like to be an only child, because she’d been one, too. She’d insisted that they make a special effort to give him the attention and companionship he’d missed by not having siblings.

  That had all changed on the fateful day of their accident. They’d been a close fam
ily and then, boom, it was gone. Reeling and stunned, he’d been sent to live with his aunt and uncle and Brock, whom he’d barely known apart from a few awkward holiday gatherings.

  Uncle Clive and Aunt Catherine and Brock hadn’t spent their evenings playing board games. They’d all watched TV in separate rooms or gone out to be with separate friends. Even once Paige had arrived, the new baby hadn’t brought them all together. Brock had resented the intrusion and Uncle Clive had gotten busier at work. Aunt Catherine tried, but he’d seen her cringe away from the noise and mess of a baby.

  As for Reese, he’d tried to lay low and hang on, distracting himself from his losses with sports. He’d tried to play with Paige some—as she grew, she was the warmest member of the family by far—but he wished he’d done more.

  He’d known, even then, that he couldn’t fix a family that dysfunctional.

  It had been so long since he’d been part of a real, good family that he’d forgotten he wanted it. Tonight, he’d regained that desire.

  Gabby’s hand against his felt small and delicate, but he knew better. He slipped his own hand to the side and captured hers, tracing his thumb along the calluses.

  He heard her breath hitch and looked quickly at her face.

  Her eyes were wide, her lips parted and moist.

  Without looking away, acting on impulse, he slowly lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip.

  Her breath hitched and came faster, and his sense of himself as a man, a man who could have an effect on a woman, swelled inside him, almost making him giddy.

  This was Gabby, and the truth burst inside him: he’d never gotten over her, never stopped wishing they could be together, that they could make that family they’d dreamed of as kids. That was why he’d gotten so angry when she’d strayed: because the dream she’d shattered had been so big, so bright and shining.

  In the back of his mind, a voice of caution scolded and warned. She’d gone out with his cousin. She’d had a child with another man. What had been so major in his emotional life hadn’t been so big in hers.

  He shouldn’t trust her. And he definitely shouldn’t kiss her.

  But when had he ever done what he should? He nipped at her finger, soothed it with a kiss and then lowered his lips to hers.

  Chapter Seven

  The feel of Reese’s lips on hers was like coming home. Gabby sighed and nestled closer.

  He was quick to gather her in and deepen the kiss, and coming home became a whole lot more exciting and intense.

  She could smell his aftershave, the same faint, spicy scent he’d worn when they’d known each other in high school. She inhaled it as if it were air, necessary oxygen. Her face and neck felt hot, and her insides caught fire.

  They’d kissed like this before, only once, shortly before Reese had left for the service. Now they’d already escalated to that same intense level. That was dangerous. They weren’t kids anymore; they were a man and a woman who were very, very attracted to each other.

  She should back up and stop, and she would...in just a moment. First, she needed to feel the strength of his arms, run a finger over the stubble on his cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice deep and rough, a little dangerous. “I didn’t think this would be happening. I’d have shaved.”

  “It’s okay.” She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips once more. And then, as if by mutual agreement, they each took a step back.

  “I don’t want to stop.” His eyes burned on her.

  “Me, either,” she admitted, “but we have to.”

  He nodded and took another step back. “Last time that happened, we didn’t have to stop ourselves, because Brock walked in on us.”

  His words were a bucket of cold water, chilling her warm feelings. She stared unseeingly at him while a movie of bad memories played across her mind’s screen.

  Brock’s full, sulky lips twisting into a pout as he saw them kissing. His pressure on her later: you kissed him, now kiss me.

  And when she’d refused, he’d been offended and angry—an overindulged football star who’d never heard the word no.

  That was when everything had spun out of control.

  That was when...she squeezed her eyes shut and shook away the rest of the memories.

  She’d already remembered enough: that she wasn’t a naive girl anymore, but a woman with responsibilities, a mother.

  “You should go.” She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep more words from coming out. Reese could never learn what had happened. She’d made a decision to protect Brock’s parents.

  And on a less elevated level, she was terrified to see Reese’s skeptical face, his eyes that were sure to doubt her story. She took another step back.

  He looked surprised, a little hurt. “I’m sorry,” he said, reaching a hand out to her. “I thought...you’re pretty irresistible.”

  If he didn’t leave she’d blurt out the truth. And that, she’d resolved not to do. “Just, please, go,” she said.

  He nodded. “I’m sorry. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay? After we’ve both cooled down.”

  “Sure.” She was backing away fast now, until she bumped into the couch and sat down abruptly. She wrapped her arms around her middle and didn’t look up again. Holding herself together.

  Only when she heard the door click shut did she let her feelings and memories press her back into the couch cushions, nearly crushing her.

  * * *

  The next morning, Reese was full of restless energy even though he hadn’t slept much the night before.

  He’d been reliving that kiss and thinking about Gabby’s reaction to it.

  He walked into the barn half an hour before the boys would start arriving and did his usual check of the dogs and area. The smell of hay and the dogs’ excited barking brought him back to earth.

  He had his priorities: the boys and the dogs.

  But there’s more to a man than his work.

  Last night, he’d gotten a glimpse of what it might be like to have a family, a home.

  A warm, beautiful, loving wife.

  He wanted all that with an intensity he hadn’t known he could still feel. He’d lost his spark after Gabby’s betrayal and the grimness of war and the difficulty of losing his hand. Even getting back to where he could be excited about his work had been a big accomplishment, and it had seemed like enough for him.

  Now that Gabby had returned, seemed to feel something for him, shared a sweet, intense kiss...yeah. He wanted more. He wanted all of that.

  Behind him, the barn door creaked and he turned to see Gabby come in, backlit by the rosy sky of sunrise, Biff trotting beside her. She wore the same gray hat she’d pulled down over her curls in high school. Her cheeks were pink, and her breath made clouds in the cold air.

  She was lovely, and he smiled and walked toward her.

  “Hey, Reese,” she said as if it were any old day. She veered away from him, put Biff into his pen and then headed for the office. She put down her things and spun back out before he could join her there.

  This definitely felt awkward.

  “So, are our plans in place for the day? This is when we introduce the animals into the performance, right? What can I do to help it all go smoothly?”

  Her questions and comments were apt, but he knew Gabby pretty well. She was talking to cover her nerves.

  “About last night,” he began.

  Her face closed.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. Now that he was closer to her, he could see that there were dark circles beneath her eyes, eyes that looked swollen. “Hey, whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay, and we can figure it out.”

  “It’s not—” she began, and then the door creaked open again. This time it was the dog trainer, Hannah.

  She was a good woman and a good friend, pretty in a no-nonse
nse kind of way, skilled at working with all kinds of dogs. Normally, he’d have been glad to see her, but she’d arrived at exactly the wrong time.

  He’d barely had the time to introduce the two women when car doors slammed outside, indicating the arrival of the first of the boys. The conversation with Gabby would have to wait. “We’ll talk later,” he said into her ear.

  She didn’t nod. Just turned to greet the boys and help them get their coats and hats where they belonged instead of piled up in a heap on the floor.

  His cell phone buzzed, and he checked it. A text from Paige. Can’t come today.

  Too bad, but that meant that his aunt wouldn’t come, either, and that was a welcome relief. Especially when things between him and Gabby were feeling so awkward.

  “Look,” Gabby said to him and Hannah, “I’ll work with the boys, have them practice their parts. That’ll give you a chance to assess the animals and figure out what we can do with them.” Without waiting for an answer, she hurried back over to greet the next group of arriving boys, including Jacob, who walked in rubbing his eyes.

  It made all the sense in the world to divide the labor as she’d suggested. So why did he have the distinct feeling that she was running away?

  “Okay, let’s get to it.” Hannah walked toward the dogs’ pens, then glanced back over her shoulder at him. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, sure.” He followed as she moved slowly down the row of pens. He’d stop thinking about Gabby now, focus on the show, the boys, the dogs.

  “So, you want the dogs to be part of the nativity scene. Dressed up as stable animals.”

  “Right. Well, I don’t love the idea, but that’s what the boys all want.”

  She pointed at a couple of medium-sized white dogs, both fairly docile. “They kind of look like sheep,” she said doubtfully.

  “I guess. Any tips on making them act like sheep?”

  Hannah talked him through reinforcing their sit-stay behavior and then assigning each a shepherd armed with ample treat bags.

  “How about Biff?” He indicated the big black dog. “One of our new boys, Jacob, has been working with him a lot. He’s more teachable than I expected, although I wouldn’t call him a fast learner.”