Yesterday's Roses

by Heather Cullman

  “Are you sure? You took off quicker than General Lee being chased by Lincoln’s ghost when you caught sight of me just now. I could have sworn you were avoiding me.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’d forgotten to do something at the infirmary and was in a hurry to get back.”

  “I may have been away for several weeks, but I do recall that the infirmary is that way.” Chuckling, Jake pointed in the opposite direction. To his delight, her face pinked in a fetching manner.

  Just then, a gust of salt-tinged wind whistled down the street, forcing the holiday shoppers to clutch at their hats. Fiery tendrils of hair danced over Hallie’s forehead, and Jake found himself unable to resist the temptation to capture an errant ringlet and tuck it beneath her bonnet. His fingers lingered on her curls for a moment, before sliding lower to trace the curve of her jaw.

  Staring intently into her eyes, he whispered, “I don’t think I could bear having you angry with me. Forgive me?”

  The intimacy of his gesture and the seductive huskiness of his voice caught her off guard. It was several seconds before she could answer, “I’ll forgive you, but only if you apologize for running off before I had a chance to reexamine your wound. I came to check on you two days after the funeral, and Celine told me you’d gone to Panama City on business. I’ve been plagued with all sorts of horrible visions of you succumbing to infection, or tearing your sutures and bleeding to death.”

  “Poor Mission Lady,” he crooned, stroking her cheek. “I apologize for causing you such horrible thoughts, though I’m pleased you cared enough to have them. You’ll be happy to know that your tincture of iodine experiment was a complete success. The wound healed perfectly. The ship’s doctor, who removed my sutures, said it was some of the neatest stitching he’d ever seen. Of course, he did seem a bit taken aback when I informed him that it was the handiwork of a beautiful lady doctor.”

  Beautiful Jake had called her beautiful. It was Hallie’s turn to feel pleased. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning like a miner who had struck a million-dollar bonanza. Indeed, Jake’s compliment was far more precious to her than all the gold in the world.

  Jake couldn’t help smiling back at the radiance of her face. “It seems I’ve been forgiven. The question is, do you forgive me enough to help me with my terrible dilemma?”

  “What dilemma?”

  “Well, you see, there’s this young lady with whom I’ve very recently formed an attachment, and I need help in selecting a Christmas gift for her.”

  Suddenly Hallie’s pleasure in the moment faded away. Arabella, she thought, feeling as if the wind had been punched out of her. He had to be talking about Arabella. Pain flickered through her as she pictured Arabella cradled in Jake’s strong arms, and she quickly lowered her lashes to hide her hurt. Jake loved Arabella.

  Swallowing her choking despair, Hallie murmured, “Perhaps Penelope would be better suited for that task. I’m not familiar with what is considered to be a proper gift for a gentleman to present a lady.”

  “Penelope hasn’t returned from New York yet. Besides, this particular lady is special, and I think you would be better suited for the purpose.”

  “I suppose I could try.”

  Jake cocked an eyebrow in Hallie’s direction at the listlessness of her reply. All the joyous light had fled from her face, and she looked about as pleased as if she’d just swallowed a spoonful of castor oil. Strange. Most women enjoyed helping him spend his money. But then, Hallie Gardiner wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met.

  Tossing her a baffled look, he hoisted her bag in one hand and presented her with his opposite arm. “The shop I had in mind is just around the corner.”

  With a sigh, Hallie tucked her hand in the curve of his elbow, trying hard to ignore the steely bulge of muscles beneath his sleeve. As she adjusted her energetic stride to his slower one, she commented, “Arabella is very beautiful.”

  “Yes.”

  “I imagine that she’s the kind of woman every man dreams of marrying.”

  He grunted.

  “Too bad about her husband,” she persisted. “I heard he died on their wedding night. Of course, he was ninety-two years old.”

  “Poor old devil.”

  “He left her a wealthy woman.”

  “Good for her.”

  Hallie cocked her head to one side and, from beneath her lashes, stole a glance at Jake’s face. He didn’t look any too enthralled with their conversation. Amused maybe, but hardly like a man who was discussing the love of his life.

  Repressing the urge to ask point-blank if he was, indeed, enamored of the beauteous Arabella, Hallie pointed out, “Her mother comes from royalty, you know.”

  “Fascinating.”

  The exasperating man actually chuckled. Barely able to conceal her frustration, Hallie decided to try a more direct approach. “Are you and Arabella—” Then she stopped abruptly, gaping at Jake in astonished delight. “Jake Parrish! You’re walking without your cane!”

  “I’m having a good day.” He shrugged nonchalantly, though he was secretly pleased by her reaction. He stopped to nod at a shop just ahead. “I think we’ll find the perfect gift in there. That is, if you’re finished with your glowing report on Arabella’s virtues.” He almost laughed aloud when she flushed an intense shade of scarlet. Good. It served the minx right for assuming that he’d been taken in by Arabella’s questionable charms.

  As Jake opened the shop door for Hallie, she paused to glance around, perplexed. “Just how old is your lady friend?”

  “Quite elderly. She’ll be four months old tomorrow.” Setting Hallie’s medical bag on a counter, he peeled off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket. “She also has a tendency to drool.”

  When he looked up again, Hallie was staring at him with such luminous eyes that he couldn’t help but stare back. Her face was awash with happiness, and she seemed to glow as brightly as a candle on a Christmas tree. Even when she turned away to examine a magnificent toy puppet theater, he remained transfixed. Jake shook his head and chuckled at himself. Damn. He was behaving like a besotted youth.

  It was a magical shop, and Hallie was instantly caught up in its enchantment. The shelves were filled with playthings of every imaginable type—and some that defied description completely. Happy people were everywhere.

  One couple beamed as their young son jumped up and down pointing at a toy ship, while a father with two daughters listened indulgently as the girls squealed in wonder at the sight of an automaton monkey playing a musical fiddle.

  Hallie smiled at Jake as he stopped to finger the silk dress on a fine French fashion doll. When he glanced at her in a questioning manner, she shook her head.

  “A doll like that will win your lady’s heart in a few years’ time, but she’s much too young to appreciate it now. However, this,” Hallie picked up a stuffed mohair elephant and danced it in front of his eyes, “would be perfect.”

  Jake took the toy and studied it closer. “Someday I’ll take her to the circus and show her a real one,” he mused, lightly stroking the little elephant’s raised trunk. “She’s mine now, and I want her to be happy.”

  “How can she help but be happy? She’s got you for a father.”

  Jake chuckled at her words. “Had a change of heart, have you?”

  “As have you, apparently. Did you finally choose a name?”

  “Ariel.”

  “Pretty, but unusual.”

  “The first time I held her, I remember thinking that she weighed no more than a sprite.”

  Hallie looked at him oddly.

  He nodded, his expression serious. “When I was ten, my tutor forced me to read all of Shakespeare’s plays. I hated most of them, especially the romantic ones. However, I loved The Tempest. I was taken with the sprites.”

  Hallie burst out laughing. “Fanciful man! You named h
er for Shakespeare’s sprite!”

  Grinning, Jake looked down and considered the little elephant in his hands. He could imagine the fairylike Ariel clutching the toy in her chubby arms as she cooed and sucked on one of its floppy ears. Hallie was right. It was perfect. He looked up to tell her so, but the words died in his throat.

  Jake Parrish was captivated.

  Hallie glanced over her shoulder in time to see Jake duck behind the whimsically painted puppet theater. Mystified at what had so completely captured his attention, she followed. Did the man have a predilection for puppets or was it the carved Noah’s ark on the shelf behind the theater that had him so enraptured? It wasn’t until she saw him kneeling on the floor, his face flushed with excitement like an awestruck child, that she understood.

  It was a train. Perfect in every miniature detail, it ran by clockwork on a shiny track, occasionally emitting an off-key whistle. The polished brass locomotive pulled a string of colorfully painted cars, and there were even tiny passengers at some of the windows.

  Carefully restraining her billowing skirts so as not to upset the little railroad, Hallie crouched beside him. “A train? I would have thought you to be more interested in the toy ships.”

  “I own plenty of real ones, and I get to play with them every day.” He glanced up, his face utterly serious. “You’re looking at the future. Railroads. Someday you’ll be able to go from New York to California in less than two weeks’ travel time. It’s a dream I believe in, and I’ve invested heavily in it.”

  “Less than two weeks, you say?” Hallie exclaimed, bending forward to study the model closer. “How wonderful!”

  “Yes. Wonderful,” Jake agreed, shifting his gaze from Hallie’s spellbound face to stare up at the beribboned greenery festooning the shelf full of dolls and puppets behind her. Then he grinned.

  With a roguish expression, he leaned close to Hallie, whispering, “Merry Christmas, Mission Lady.”

  When she looked up to return his felicitation, she found his face only scant inches from her own. His eyes were glowing with a warmth that captured her heart, and when he smiled, she felt as if the rest of the world had melted away.

  “Merry Christmas,” Jake repeated, sweeping her into his embrace.

  So firm and persuasive were his arms as he crushed her close, that her whole being was filled with the desire to savor his masculine strength. She became breathless with pleasure as their eyes met. His appeal was even more stunningly potent than she had remembered, his musky scent more sweetly intoxicating.

  Holding her captive with the mesmerizing green fire of his gaze, Jake lifted his hand and gently traced the shape of her mouth. When he lingered to caress the tender skin lining her lower lip, her senses reeled in spiraling rapture.

  Like a spirited filly gentling beneath a stallion’s powerful command, Hallie trembled once and then surrendered to the hypnotic persuasion of his touch. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and relaxed, letting the soft curves of her body mold to the hard contours of his.

  Jake liked the way Hallie felt in his arms, half lying in his lap with her full breasts crushed against his chest. Their bodies fit together like perfectly matched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

  Tightening his arm around her in a fierce hug, he tipped her face up to his, murmuring, “Mistletoe.” Then his mouth claimed hers with exquisite slowness.

  Never in her most wishful dreams had Hallie imagined that his kiss could taste so sweet. Her lips tingled as he gently moved his mouth against hers, and when he caught her lower lip between his teeth, she shuddered with pleasure. Sensuously, he teased her, alternately nipping and sucking on the sensitive flesh until she twined her arms around his neck to invite him deeper.

  Jake’s loins tightened at the eagerness of her response. Almost savage now in his need to explore the dark delights of her mouth, he boldly parted her lips with his tongue. With deep, delving thrusts he probed the heated mystery, groaning with pleasure as she pliantly welcomed him. Currents of desire telegraphed throughout his body at the tentative reply of her tongue against his, and he felt himself harden with rampant need.

  As his lips grew demanding, so did his arousal and even through the heavy layers of her skirts, Hallie could feel its insistent prod. She knew she should escape his embrace, knew she should ignore the way his kisses sent bolts of pleasure streaking through her body. But she didn’t have the power to deny his kisses any more than she had the power to deny her love for him.

  When Jake at last pulled his lips away, they could only stare at each other in emotion-filled silence—she breathless with desire, he panting heavily with need, and both too stunned by their passion to speak.

  “Sir? Madame? Is there some way in which I can be of assistance?” The clerk smiled courteously. He had come in search of a dragon puppet but had discovered the couple embracing behind the theater instead.

  Jake felt Hallie start at the man’s interruption, and he jerked uncomfortably as her hip rubbed against his engorged sex. Catching his breath sharply, he tightened his arms to still her movement. Damn! Another motion like that and he would lose control completely.

  Without loosening his hold or taking his eyes off Hallie’s prettily flushed face, Jake tossed the stuffed elephant up to the clerk. “We’ll take this.”

  The toy hit the clerk squarely in the chest. The man, used to dealing with errant children who were intent on wreaking havoc to his shop, caught it before it tumbled to the ground. With great aplomb, he inquired, “Will this be all, sir?”

  “We’ll take anything else you think would be appropriate for a four-month-old baby.” Stifling a groan as Hallie squirmed against him again, Jake paused to hiss into her ear, “Unless you want me to disgrace myself right here and now, I’d suggest you sit still.” He pressed his arousal against her hip in warning. With her eyes wide, she nodded and became as still as a statue.

  Giving Hallie a crooked smile, Jake returned his attention to the clerk. The man was tactfully staring at the toy elephant and Jake had to clear his throat several times to get his attention. “And the train. We’ll take the train.” Pressing his face close to Hallie’s, he inquired, “Anything for you, Mission Lady? That box of chemical experiments over there, or perhaps a magic lantern?”

  Hallie giggled and shook her head.

  Sighing with disappointment, Jake waved the man away.

  As the man bustled off to select the appropriate items, Jake pulled Hallie’s rakishly askew bonnet straight and asked, “What is it you desire for Christmas, Mission Lady?”

  You, she thought wantonly. But she suppressed her urge and replied, “Snow. It hardly seems like Christmas without it.”

  “I agree. I have yet to get used to San Francisco’s mild climate myself.”

  “And you, Jake. What would you ask of Santa Claus?”

  He thought for a moment. “A clue. One that would lead to Serena’s murderer. I’ve turned her death over and over again in my mind. Nothing makes sense.”

  “I know. I can’t seem to make sense of it either.”

  They fell silent, each captured in private thoughts, as Jake struggled to his feet. It was with great care that he managed to brace himself on his stiff left leg. As he reached down to assist Hallie, she peered skeptically at the greenery above his shoulder.

  “Why, you wicked man! That’s not mistletoe at all. It’s plain, ordinary holly.”

  Jake looked up and squinted in an exaggerated manner. “Really? It looked like mistletoe to me.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know, Mission Lady, I think you’re right.”

  Then he swept her into his strong embrace and kissed her again.

  When he finally released her, she sputtered, “Why did you do that?”

  “Since that wasn’t mistletoe, I had to take the kiss back. It was a mistletoe kiss, you see.” Chuckling, he turned to make his way to the counter.

 
While Jake paid for his purchases and gave instructions for their delivery, Hallie wandered to the front of the shop, stopping to examine the gaily decorated door. When Jake at last joined her, her forgotten medical bag in tow, she threw her arms around his neck with a force that almost knocked him off balance and soundly kissed him.

  Grinning with stunned delight, he asked, “And what did I do to warrant such a wonderful treat?”

  Hallie grinned back and pointed above his head. “You stood in the right place. That, Mr. Parrish, is mistletoe!”

  “Cissy, I need you to hold still while I examine your throat,” pleaded Hallie, pushing aside the sobbing girl’s hair to expose the damaged skin at her throat.

  At Hallie’s touch, Cissy whimpered like a wounded puppy and shrank back against her pillows, staring at her would-be savior with blatant distrust.

  Hallie sighed. She really couldn’t blame the girl for being wary. Not only had the poor creature been beaten within an inch of her life, she’d had to endure the pain of having her lacerated scalp stitched and her broken ribs bound. She’d behaved quite bravely up until now.

  Giving Cissy her most reassuring smile, Hallie promised, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to take care of your neck. But I can’t unless you cooperate.”

  “Ya behave y’self and do as the doc says,” scolded an older woman standing on the opposite side of the bed. The woman, dressed in a black mourning ensemble complete with a widow’s veil, tapped her foot impatiently and glared at the cringing figure in the bed.

  Fat tears coursed down Cissy’s cheeks as she obeyed, leaving tracks of black kohl trailing through the layers of powder and rouge. With the shadow from her lids smudged like bruises around her eyes, and her blood-red lip paste smeared across her chin, she had the look of a boxer who had lost one fight too many. Yet, beneath all the heavy paint, Hallie could see that she was pretty. Young, too. Pathetically so.

  “How old are you, dear?” Hallie inquired, bending down to examine the girl’s neck.