Gib’s jaw worked, and it was a minute before he could speak. “Torie’s mine,” he managed.
“What?” His aunt drew back. Then she exhaled sharply. “Oh, my.” Then, of all things, she chuckled. “How on earth did I not see it? She has your mouth. Your hair.”
Gib rose so fast his chair squeaked on the linoleum. “How can you smile?” Suddenly, pure rage shattered the shell of misery that had entombed him. He slammed his fist on the table. “Dulcie lied to me. She betrayed me. I had a child. A bright, beautiful little girl whose first steps were into another man’s arms. Whose first words called someone else daddy. I didn’t get to teach her to ride a bike or how to swim or—” All the hours he’d been locked in silence vanished, and he could not sit still one more second. He began to pace.
Aunt Nita let him rage, even when he woke up Uncle Raymond. Both of them stood by as he slammed a fist into his palm, when he cursed Dulcie for screwing up his life, robbing him of his child, wrecking his dreams. Gib had not lost his temper like this in years. Emotion was the enemy when you were the leader of a championship-caliber team, and he was careful to keep a tight rein on his.
Finally, he ran out of steam. Abruptly he was so exhausted he could barely stand. “Here,” his aunt said, pulling out a chair and pouring a cup of coffee for him. “What you really need is sleep, but first I’m giving you a piece of my mind, and I want you wide awake to hear it.”
Gib recoiled. “What? Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said? Dulcie betrayed me. She ruined my life.”
His aunt and uncle sat, flanking him, each with a cup of coffee, as well.
“She was seventeen, Gib,” Aunt Nita pointed out. “Not all that much older than Torie is now. Think about Torie trying to make that kind of decision alone.”
“Dulcie didn’t have to make it alone!”
“You’re right, she didn’t. But do you remember how you were back then? Oh, sure, you loved Dulcie the way a boy loves a girl, but every soul in this town knew that racing had a grip on you that nothing could displace. You made your dreams clear to every last one of us from early on, and you never once lost sight of them. You think Dulcie didn’t know it, too? Didn’t wonder, maybe, somewhere deep inside, if you didn’t want it just a little bit more than her?”
“I did not,” he countered hotly. “She was my world.”
“And you were hers. Loving you the way she did and knowing what your dreams meant to you, understanding that you were the kind of boy who would have come back home and done right by her whether you wanted to or not, can you imagine how hard that decision must have been for her?” When he started to protest, she held up a hand. “Dulcie’s parents were divorced. They got married when her mama got pregnant. Don’t you imagine her worst fear was that you would do the right thing by her, and your relationship would suffer because both of you had been denied your dreams?”
Gib fell silent.
“Can you honestly say you would be where you are now in your career if Dulcie had told you back then?”
“That wasn’t her only chance. Torie’s thirteen years old!” he roared. “I’ve missed everything important in her life!”
“The past is over, son,” his uncle finally spoke. “What matters is what you do from here. You’re still Torie’s dad, and she needs you. She’ll need you for years yet.”
“She doesn’t even know.” Gib looked up, his jaw hardening. “That has to change. Right away. Torie has to be part of my life.”
“Exactly how do you plan to manage that?” his aunt asked. “You’re on the road from February through November.”
Gib raked his fingers through his hair, then scrubbed at his face. He’d never been so exhausted. “I don’t know.”
“What will you do about Dulcie?”
His shoulders sank. “I don’t know that, either.”
“Can you at least understand that she meant no harm? That she was trying to save your dreams—at the expense of her own, I might add?”
“She shouldn’t—” Gib subsided. Hadn’t he learned to win by putting defeats aside and focusing on the future, not the past?
And didn’t he indeed believe, now that the boil had been lanced, in the goodness of Dulcie’s heart?
I’d lost you. I couldn’t lose our child, too. The anguish on her face rose before him. Finally, he was able to see beyond his own grief, to remember that sweet young girl whose own life had been anything but sunny, yet who had brought golden light into his. To picture how alone she must have felt. To hear now what he hadn’t caught in that long-ago, fateful phone call: the tremble in her voice as she fought to convince him that she hadn’t really loved him.
Gib slumped in his chair. The woman he’d rediscovered had the heart of a lion, and she’d possessed that at seventeen, too. He was humbled by her sacrifice, however much it had cost him, as well. Maybe it was only now, when he was so burned out from years of being driven to succeed, that he could see the price he’d paid to earn fame and fortune.
He had money, yes, and a big house and a career many envied.
But he was alone. He always would be, if he didn’t make some changes. Rearrange his priorities.
He had some thinking to do, but not when he was this tired. He rose wearily, kissed his aunt’s cheek and squeezed his uncle’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I blew up. You especially don’t deserve that, either of you. You’ve always been there for me, and I don’t know if I’ve made it clear what that means. I—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back to see you. Sorry I forgot how important family is.”
His aunt stood and cupped his cheek, smiling softly. “You were a good boy, Gib, and you’re a better man. You’ll do the right thing.”
“If I can figure out what that is,” he said.
“You go on to sleep, now. Let your mind sort it out while you rest up. Things will seem clearer then.”
“I hope you’re right.” Gib hugged her, then walked over and hugged his uncle. “I love you both.”
Their eyes were glistening as he trudged out of the room.
Gib only slept four hours, but when he awoke, he knew exactly what he wanted: all of it—the family, the career and, most of all, Dulcie.
Wanting too little had never been his problem, he thought wryly as he showered and dressed. He didn’t have all the answers to the puzzle pieces that didn’t seem to fit together.
He did, though, have an inkling. First on his agenda was a call to his team owner. It was Christmas Eve, but this couldn’t wait.
He had a future to begin.
Assuming Dulcie would ever speak to him again.
He headed for the kitchen to let his aunt and uncle be the first to know.
Chapter Six
The phone rang, but Dulcie was deep into making sugar cookies with the kids, and Torie was closer. “I’ll get it!”
The phone was becoming Torie’s boon companion, and Dulcie knew that her daughter’s fondest wish was for a cell phone of her own. One more expense Dulcie had no idea how she’d manage.
Torie’s whole face glowed. She glanced at her mother, then away quickly, whispering.
Dulcie frowned, but just then, Andre decided to get a little slap-happy with the vanilla he was measuring, so her attention fractured. “Here, sweetie. Vanilla is great, but too much will spoil the flavor.”
Torie hung up and returned to her part of the task, keeping Bobby too busy to stick his fingers into the bowl.
“Who was that?” Dulcie asked.
Torie shrugged. “Just a friend.”
This secretiveness was new. And unwelcome. Still, this was the most fun any of them had had since Gib had thundered out, and Dulcie was loathe to risk upsetting the mood. She and Torie could speak later, when the little ones were in bed.
Just then, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” Lily cried.
“No, I’d better,” said Torie.
Lily’s bottom lip stuck out.
“On second thought, you come with me,” Torie o
ffered. When she passed by Dulcie, the glow was back, but handling Bobby and Andre was all Dulcie could manage just then.
“Gib!” Lily squealed.
Andre leapt off his stool, and Bobby launched himself from the counter. Dulcie barely caught him in time, and he wriggled like an eel in her grasp. In self-defense, she released him to follow the others.
For herself, well, the cookies still needed attention. She rationalized that staying in the kitchen was her only option, even though she was perfectly aware that she was dodging the moment when she’d have to face the man she’d wronged so grievously.
The high, excited voices of her children contrasted with the deep, calming tones of the man who had become too important to all of them. Yet again, Dulcie worried over how they would manage when he inevitably left.
Then she heard the front door open, followed by a sudden silence as her children’s voices moved outdoors. She turned to see what was going on.
Gib stood in the kitchen doorway, big and gorgeous and beloved.
“They’ve gone outside to play for a bit,” he said. “So we can talk.”
Dulcie’s breath caught. She grabbed for a dish towel and wiped her hands. “I’m, uh, making cookies.”
“Smells great,” he said, and began to walk toward her. She couldn’t read his expression, though his movements were steady and graceful. Unhurried yet intent.
“Gib, I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I was wrong, I see that now. I just didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t bear for you to give up—”
He held up one hand just as the other one clasped her waist and pulled her close. “I’m sorry, too,” he said.
And kissed her. Kissed her so passionately, yet tinged with sorrow and apology…and something that felt like hope.
“Gib?”
“Just let me hold you for a second, all right?” He folded her into his embrace, and she nestled against his broad chest, her head sinking into that spot right by his shoulder where she’d always fit so perfectly.
Her eyes closed, and she wrapped her arms around him, too. For a very long moment they simply stood together, swaying slightly, and Dulcie knew, for the first time in fourteen years, what it felt like to be safe and cherished.
Then Gib began to talk, but she didn’t move her head from its refuge. She listened to his voice rumble in his chest and slowly registered his words.
“You gave me my dream, Dulcie, and I don’t know how to thank you for that.”
Of all the things she’d expected him to say, this was not one. Tears prickled as she heard the words she’d longed to hear all those years ago, the rationale for her whole life to this point.
“I am sick at heart about Torie—”
She tensed, but he ran one hand up her back, soothing her.
“—but I understand why you did it. And I’m more upset that I accepted what you said so easily and didn’t fight you on it. How stupid could I be not to suspect that there was more behind the sudden change?”
She lifted her face then. “I didn’t give you much chance. And you have no idea how many times I practiced that speech.”
He cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly. “That’s another thing that kills me, thinking about how alone you must have felt. I should have been with you. You should never have had to worry. I should have been right there by your side every step of the way.” His face was a study in conflict. “Was he…was Tom kind to you?” His throat worked. “Did you…did you love him? Did he love you the way you deserved?” His eyes were pure misery.
“He was a good man, Gib. The only condition he put on raising Torie was that she believe she was his own. That’s why I could never tell you.” She ducked her head. “He loved me. It’s my own shame that I could never love him as much. I cared for him, but I—” She gazed into his eyes. “He wasn’t you.”
Gib squeezed her so hard she could barely breathe, but she didn’t protest. How many times had she craved exactly this: Gib here, wanting her as desperately as she wanted him?
“I can’t stand to think of him with you, lying in your bed, having the right to touch you, to hold you when you cried, to—” His voice cracked. “To raise my daughter and be there for her every day.” A shudder ran through him. “But at the same time, I owe him. I don’t know how to feel about that.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her shoulders curved inward with her shame.
“No.” He shook her gently. “Don’t you apologize again. You were just a girl, and you did it out of love. I am an ungrateful jerk that my first reaction was anger. You don’t deserve it. You deserve so much more, and I want to give it to you.”
She froze. “What are you saying?”
He glanced toward the living room where four sets of eyes were plastered to the window. “Those little monkeys.” He grinned as he turned back to her. “They’re waiting.”
“For what?”
He knelt in front of her. “For this.”
Out of his pocket, he drew a small velvet box, and Dulcie’s heart stuttered. “Gib?”
“We’ve lost a lot of years, Dulcie, and I don’t want to lose one day more.” He opened the box, and a lovely round diamond in an old-fashioned setting, all curlicues and tiny rosettes with smaller diamonds in them, sparkled out at her. “It was my mother’s, but if it’s not right, I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“Oh, Gib.” She put her hand to her throat. How well he knew her, even after all this time. “It’s beautiful.”
A sound broke into her concentration, a chant Go Mom! Go Mom! Go Mom! coming from the front porch. She glanced over to see Torie holding Bobby up, and the other two children jumping up and down.
Gib laughed, but quickly grew serious again. “Will you marry me, Dulcie? Will you let me love your family and make them mine?”
“But—Torie?”
“We’ll tell her together. I don’t think she’ll mind that she’s my daughter, do you?” He rose to his feet, but she still didn’t make a move toward the ring.
“She’ll be in heaven. But what about your job, Gib?”
“My job is not more important than you. Not even close.”
“You can’t give it up.” Her mind was racing.
“I don’t want to be away from my family so much of the year. I’ve talked to my team owner, and he’s willing to kick me upstairs. Make me competition director, so I don’t have to travel as much.”
“Is that what you want? I couldn’t bear being the cause of you giving up your dream now any more than I could then.”
“You are my dream, Dulcie. You always were. I love racing, and I’ll be honest that walking away would once have been unimaginable—but now there’s you.” He nodded toward the window, where anxious faces greeted them. “You and my new crew.” He grinned. “So are you going to put us all out of our misery?” He took the ring from the box and held it out.
She could barely speak. “I have an idea.”
“If it’s not saying yes, I don’t want to hear it.” His eyes gave away a vulnerability that surprised her. “Don’t you want to marry me, sweetheart?”
“Too much,” she answered.
“Then say yes.”
Oh, how she wanted to. How she longed to cast away all caution about where they’d live and what he should do and all the realities that got in the way of romance.
“On one condition.”
He looked wary. “Which is?”
“Don’t leave your job yet. Let us try an experiment.”
“What kind of experiment?”
“Travel can be very educational, and you forget that I’m a teacher. Let us come with you, and I’ll home school the kids. They can learn so much in a year traveling all over America, and Torie would be in heaven, being that close to racing.”
“You would do that?” He seemed stunned.
“There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you, Gib.”
“You’ve already proven that, but it’s my turn to make the sacrifices.”
“I think y
ou’ve already done that, as well. You’ve been alone for a long time.”
“I have missed you more than you can imagine.” His eyes darkened with loneliness and need. “All I know is whatever it takes for us to be together, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Oh, Gib.” She cast a glance at the window, where uncertainty shadowed her children’s faces. “They know what you’re proposing?”
He smiled. “They’re all for it.” He sobered. “I love them already, Dulcie, all of them, not just Torie. And not only because they’re yours.” He held up the ring. “Will you give me the best present ever? Will you all be mine this Christmas and for the rest of our lives?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she nodded. “Oh, Gib…” She held out her hand. “I love you so. I always have.”
He slipped the ring on it. “I love you, too. I never got over you.”
She launched herself into his arms, and he wrapped her close, twirling her and laughing, then kissing her as she’d never been kissed.
The front door burst open, and they were quickly surrounded by cheering children soon climbing all over Gib and talking a mile a minute.
Dulcie nestled into his side and glanced up to see the love she’d waited a lifetime for. The sheer joy on Torie’s face told her their news would be a shock, but a welcome one, indeed.
Gib held up a hand to quiet the mob. They obeyed instantly, but not a one of them stopped touching him. His gaze scanned the group, and he smiled.
“I can’t wait to take you to our new home,” he said.
“And show us your trophies?” Torie asked.
“Sure thing,” he promised. His eyes locked on Dulcie’s. “But I’ll tell you right now that not a single one of them will ever compare to this. Today,” he said, bending to kiss her as his new family cheered. “I’ve won the only prize that really matters.”
Epilogue
“What have we done, Nana?” Scarlett mused as she glanced around the main dining area of Ruby’s Dream, transformed by Brenda and Veronica and the quilters into a Christmas wonderland.
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