Christmas Cookie Baby

by Laura Marie Altom

  “No. Don’t tell me she told you about my mom.”

  “She did, but look, I see where watching your parent go through so many failed marriages would be enough to spook anyone. But you’ve got to understand that if we were to do this thing—get hitched—” He went down on one knee in front of her chair, clasping her hands. “I’d want to do it right. And I’m not just talking about the ceremony, but our lives. I don’t want a forced marriage, but a real one. I’m not looking for a housekeeper or nanny, but a companion. A best friend. Not a woman I share chores with, but a woman I love.”

  Giving his big, warm hands a squeeze, Rose dared to raise her gaze to his, and what she saw took her breath away.

  Beyond Colby’s rugged good looks was a burning intensity telling her that not only did he fully intend to fight for what was his, but that he also intended to win.

  She dared ask, “That woman you just described. That friend you want to call a wife. You think you might’ve found her in me?”

  When he bit his lower lip and looked away, her heart sank. Of course, he didn’t love her. He’d only said that with time, he could.

  “If you don’t love me,” she said, her voice small against the breeze whispering through the spruce, “why do you keep asking me to marry you?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Holding on to him for dear life, she asked, “But just because something is morally right in the eyes of society, how do you know it’s right in here? Where it counts?” Releasing him, she pressed her palms to her chest.

  He shrugged, molded his hands to her stomach. “For whatever reason, fate brought us together all those months ago. And now, because of the life we’ve created, we might be meant to come together again. I guess there are some things you have to take on faith.”

  Faith.

  Now there was something she hadn’t had in a while—if ever.

  If she were raising her son alone, faith could come in handy. Faith in a lot of things. Faith in his teachers to do a good job. Faith in his friends not to lead him astray. Faith in him to always do the right thing.

  Raising her son alone.

  The thought was daunting. But after Rose’s father had left, her mother had refused to do anything on her own, even raise her daughter. That lack of fundamental belief in herself, faith in herself to make good decisions, was what led her straight into seven unhappy marriages.

  “I DON’T KNOW about this, Colby. Are you sure it’s safe to hike right up to them?” Though it was only mid-morning, the sun shone as if it were high noon. Rose’s every wobbly step had Colby on high alert, but he wanted—needed—her to see more of what made Alaska the most awe-inspiring place on earth. The perfect place for them to raise their son. She cast a worried glance over her shoulder, not seeing that she was close to tripping over an exposed root.

  “Of course, it’s safe,” he said, guiding her past the obstacle, then shooing a mosquito from her back. “And this isn’t really a hike, but a scenic stroll.” Colby took her hand, slowing her down so he could watch where she was going as their footsteps fell silent on the thick layer of spongy spruce needles interspersed with moss.

  This trail with its pungent conifer smell and tunnel feel had long been one of his favorites. Sun slanted at lazy angles through the trees’ enormous branches, spotlighting giant ferns at their feet. As a kid, it’d been easy to imagine himself roaming among dinosaurs in this place. This far inland, it was a natural oddity, and as an adult, he’d learned to appreciate how special it truly was.

  “Believe me,” he said, “once we get there, you won’t be sorry. I’ve been watching bear families here since I was a little kid, and I’m still alive to tell the tale, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah, but I read on the flight up that, statistically, people are more likely to be killed by a bear in Alaska than by a taxi in New York City.”

  He stopped her in the middle of the trail to kneel in front of her baby bump. “Did you hear that?” he said to his son. “You’re not even out of there yet, and already she’s trying to squash our fun.”

  “Hey, someone has to be the grown-up here.”

  “And who was the grown-up this morning who set the toast on fire?”

  “Oops.” She shot him a sheepish grin. “That was different.”

  “Right. Meaning, if you mess up, all is forgiven, but if I do—”

  “Whoa,” she said, palms flat against his chest. “Does that mean you’re admitting you messed up by bringing me here? ’Cause if so, I’ll be happy to get back in the boat. All that rowing was nice and peaceful, but—”

  He put his fingers to his lips. “Shh... Look.”

  A good twenty yards off the trail, in a grassy clearing, a momma black bear fished for dinner from a gurgling stream, while her two cubs frolicked in tall grasses.

  “Listen to their little growls,” Rose whispered, eyes wide and shimmering. “Oh—and look at their mom, turning back to give them a scolding.”

  Guiding Rose a few yards further down the trail, he gestured for her to sit on the rough-hewn log bench he’d constructed when he’d been a teen. He sat beside her. Speaking softly, he said, “Black bears rarely stray more than five miles from where they were born, so I probably watched that momma play when she was a cub.”

  Rose wrapped her arms around Colby in a hug.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “For bringing me here. At first,” she whispered, “I thought this was crazy. I mean, who actually goes looking for bears? But this is incredible—way better than seeing them in a zoo. You were right. It was definitely worth the walk.”

  The size of her smile toppled his heart, making the thought of her returning to Chicago in just a few short days incomprehensible. She and baby Nick had to stay here. They just had to. His son needed to see bear cubs play every summer weekend. He needed to know this trail as well as he knew the route to school. And to know that rose hips were delicious, but baneberries—like the ones within reach from this bench—were poison.

  “Watching them eat is making me hungry,” she said.

  “We just had breakfast.”

  “Like an hour ago.”

  He fished a granola bar from his jacket pocket. “Here. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

  “Thank you.” Sweetly, she pressed her lips to his, coaxing his mouth open with her tongue, skimming her fingers up his neck and into his hair.

  When she groaned, he hefted her onto his lap, pressing his hand to the back of her head to draw her still closer.

  Why couldn’t she see that here, now, what they shared was perfection? Life didn’t get any better than this, especially with their son growing between them.

  When she eventually pulled back, lips parted in a breathy reach for air, eyes dazed, they looked up just in time to see the momma bear watching them from midstream, ears perked. A few seconds later, she gathered her troops, chasing them into thick woods.

  “Oops.” Colby tucked flyaway strands of Rose’s long, dark hair behind her ears. “Guess she only wants her cubs watching G-rated tourists.”

  “Hey,” she said, swatting his chest. “Who are you calling a tourist? I’ve got half a local growing in here.” She patted their baby.

  Feeling high on entirely too much fresh air and sunshine and kisses, Colby tossed out, “You know, it wouldn’t be too hard to make you a local, too.”

  “I know.”

  “Does that mean you’re at least thinking about staying?”

  The tremulous look she cast his way gave him cause to hope. “Raising our son amongst all this nature would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

  The mere thought had Colby swallowing tears. Since his emotions had swelled to the point that he feared he’d be unable to speak, he nodded.

  “Hey…” She brushed his too-long hair back from his forehead. “You okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll come right out and say it. I w
ant my son to have all of this as his back-yard—not just as his once-a-year, week-long vacation.”

  “I don’t blame you,” she said. “This place, it’s gorgeous, but—”

  “Wait. If I’m going to be one hundred percent truthful with you, Rose, you need to know I want you here, too. Until now, I didn’t realize how much I want to share… With both of you.”

  When she raised her hand to his cheek, he leaned into her touch.

  “I’m not even sure how it happened,” he said, “but I like you—a lot. I want to be with you. All the time. You’ve become like…a pet I want constantly by my side.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Lord…” He conked himself on the forehead. “That came out wrong. I didn’t mean that you were like a dog or cat, I meant—”

  “Hush.” She put her fingers to his lips. “When I was a little girl, I had a Yorkie. His name was Samson, and he went everywhere with me. He was my very best friend, and to this day, sometimes when I’m lonely or confused, I wish I had him around. You know, as an impartial ear to bounce off my nuttier thoughts and ideas.” She took a deep breath, wiping at a few stray tears with the backs of her hands. “Jeez, what is it about you, always making me cry?”

  “I don’t know, but I guess if a guy told me I looked like a dog, I wouldn’t be all that happy.” He grinned, and she kissed him again.

  “I loved Samson—a lot.” Still on his lap, she was close enough that the heat of her words fanned his lips. “So when you compare me to a favorite pet, believe me, far from taking it as an insult, I took it in the true spirit in which I suspect you meant it—as a high compliment. Thanks.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re welcome.”

  Taking her hands, he helped her off his lap and onto her feet. Once he’d stood as well, he took her right hand in his, then led her back down the trail.

  “You like spaghetti?” he asked once they’d almost returned to the boat.

  “Sure. Why?”

  “Nugget put Italian sausage in our supply pack, along with a big tub of red gunk I’m guessing is his famous sauce.”

  “Yum.”

  “I’ll even let you cook the pasta.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to stick out her tongue.

  They’d walked a little while longer in companionable silence when she said, “Um, Colby…”

  “Yes?”

  “Remember when you showed me how to tie that super fancy SEAL knot for the boat?”

  “Yes?” His stomach sank as he saw sun flash off the rowboat’s aluminum hull.

  The hull that, instead of resting on shore as it had been earlier, now bobbed merrily in the dead center of the lake.

  A stiff breeze had come up since they’d left. Whitecaps now dotted the once glassy water. Just beyond Frazier’s Peak, the snowcapped mountain in front of the cabin, storm clouds loomed.

  “Sorry.” Rose nibbled her lower lip. “Looks like I might need another knot-tying lesson.”

  Lightning cracked. Thunder rumbled in agreement.

  Colby remained silent.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “DO YOU THINK the boat will ever come back?” Rose asked from the comfy rocker that Colby had placed in front of the kitchen stove. Blessed heat radiated from the ugly beast, leading her to suspect that if it continued playing nice, they might one day be friends.

  “Eventually,” he said, stirring the fragrant sauce that had her hungry stomach growling. Shooting her a wink, he said, “Don’t sweat it. It’s not that big a lake. I’ll hike around in the morning to get it once it washes ashore.”

  Outside, thunder rolled as rain pummeled the cabin’s tin roof.

  “The lake sure felt big, hiking around it in this storm.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been caught in worse jams—like, say, that time I crashed my plane into a mountain. Ring any bells?”

  Twirling a lock of her still-damp hair, she made a face.

  “You look awfully comfortable over there. Thought you were making the pasta?”

  “I was, but then you starting poking fun at me, so now I figure I’ll just sit here and watch you make the pasta.”

  Already at the sink filling a large pan with water from the well, he said, “I can see it now. If we do end up hitched, I’ll spend the rest of my days at your beck and call.”

  “Only if you want more babies.”

  He dashed to her side to tuck her red blanket around her still-nippy toes.

  “Do you? Want more kids?” Back in the kitchen, he put the pot of water on to boil, then pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table.

  “Don’t know. I’ve been so busy with work, I guess I’ve never much thought about it. I mean, I always wanted at least one child, but I guess, yeah, it might be fun for Baby Talbot to have a little brother or sister to play with.”

  He winced. “Could you please stop doing that?”

  “What?”

  “Calling my son Baby Talbot. His name is Nick.”

  “Hate to rain on your parade there, fella, but—” Judging by the stern set of his lips and jaw that he was no longer teasing, Rose said, “I’m sorry. I can see how helping pick our baby’s name might be important to you.”

  “You think?” He sprang to his feet, then crossed the kitchen and began furiously stirring the sauce.

  Rose pushed herself up from her chair, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

  At the stove, she stepped behind Colby, sliding her arms around his waist, resting her head between his shoulder blades. With their baby nestled between them, if it weren’t for the rigid set of Colby’s back, all would have been right with the world.

  “I said I’m sorry.” She gave him a squeeze. “Nick it is. It is cute, in light of the night he was conceived. And anyway…it’s the least I can do.” After all, Colby probably wouldn’t be seeing his son for a long time. The very thought stole her always-healthy appetite.

  How was she going to do it? Just walk away?

  What she’d felt for her dog Samson was nothing compared to what she feared she was beginning to feel for this man.

  Still, no matter how much she’d come to enjoy Colby’s company over the past few days, she had to remember that their bond was temporary.

  Shielding their son from future pain was the right thing to do.

  The responsible thing.

  The only thing.

  Turning to face her, Colby kissed her hard, making her mind and heart spin. “Marry me,” he said. “Not because of the baby, but because of what the two of us share.”

  “I-I can’t,” she said, heart racing to an uncomfortable degree.

  “Of course, you can. All it takes is a short ceremony and voilà—we’re husband, wife and baby.”

  It really would be just that simple.

  The only problem was that, in her heart, she’d be forever bound to him. How did she know he’d feel the same? She couldn’t risk it. There was too much at stake. Not just her own emotional well-being, but that of her son. What if she said yes, and then Colby turned out to be less than wonderful after all? What if, like his own father, he got tired of the whole family thing and moved on to greener pastures? Yes, there was no doubt in her mind she could take care of herself and son all on her own, but how would she mend the hole that Colby’s leaving would make in their boy’s spirit? On her soul?

  “I see that mind of yours working a mile a minute,” he said. “Remember our talk about faith?”

  She squeezed him for all she was worth.

  “That’s it. Lean on me. I promise, together, we can make this thing work.”

  I PROMISE WE can make this thing work.

  Friday afternoon, Rose was back in her Kodiak Lodge room, gazing across the lake. Cold rain pelted the windows.

  The gloom suited her mood.

  Rubbing her belly, she crossed the room to ease onto the bed and turn on the TV, flipping through satellite channels with the remote.

  When Dot and the man she
’d been introduced to as Colby’s friend Brody had arrived back at the cabin to pick them up bright and early that morning, she’d actually been sad to pack and let the place go. She’d expected to be angry with her kidnappers, but on the contrary, she was grateful to them for allowing her that wondrous, all-too-brief time with the father of her son.

  Still full from a late hearty breakfast of ham and eggs and what had felt like gallons of milk pushed on her by Nugget, Rose flipped off the TV. Maybe all she needed to right her sour mood was a nap?

  But that didn’t work, either, as she missed the wind whispering through towering spruce and Colby’s gentle snores.

  Their last night at the cabin, he’d shared the big bed with her. He’d spooned her like he had that long-ago night on the snowy mountain, only this time, instead of cupping his big hand to her flat stomach, he’d curved his fingers over their baby. Being in his arms again had been a dream she hadn’t even known she’d wanted to come true.

  Snatching Colby’s Santa hat from the nightstand, she grunted as she rolled onto her side, toying with the idea of throwing caution to the wind and marrying Colby.

  He was warm and funny and handsome and smart.

  He was everything she’d ever wanted in a father for her child. Everything she’d never dared hope for in a husband. Back when she’d sat around with her girlfriends giggling late into the night about guys, a man with all his qualities was what she’d claimed to be holding out for. So now that she had him, why couldn’t she keep him?

  Because there was no such thing as keeping a husband, as her mother had all-too-painfully learned. For that matter, even keeping a boyfriend was tough, as Rick had shown.

  True, but what if what she and Colby shared was different? Better? After all, they had the common bond of a child.

  Oh—as if her parents hadn’t had a child when her dad had nearly killed Rose and her mom?

  Like Colby’s parents hadn’t when his dad abandoned him and his mom?

  Scooting up in bed, Rose tucked Colby’s hat under her pillow and switched the TV back on.

  She found a repeat of Beachfront Bargain Hunters, and reached for her trusty can of squirt cheese on the bedside table. It was empty, as was her bag of licorice.