“We don’t know if he’s Taylor’s father. Besides, marrying because of a child isn’t a good enough reason and, believe me, Max feels strongly about that.”
Jordan’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, he does? So, you’ve talked to him about marriage.”
“Well, no, not exactly. But I know his views on marriage. He was burned by his wife. Look what she did by putting their child up for adoption without him knowing.”
“What I want to know is what do you want?”
“I want you and Granny to stop trying to match us up.”
Jordan waved her hand. “Besides that.”
“Ha! I knew you two wouldn’t let it go.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“I never thought I wanted to get married again, either. Now I know I do.” Rachel held up her palm to stop Jordan from saying anything. “But only if the man loves me and wants to be with me the rest of his life. I won’t settle for anything less.”
“And you don’t think Max would ever feel that way?”
“How would I ever know if Taylor turns out to be his daughter?”
“By trusting yourself—God.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t in this situation.”
“You don’t trust the Lord to show you the right way?”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Rachel wiped down the counter. Her feelings concerning Max had developed like an erupting volcano—suddenly and explosively. Her feelings for Lawrence had been formed slowly over time. They snuck up on her, whereas with Max, she felt overwhelmed with emotions from the very beginning.
The doorbell chimed, and Taylor shouted, “I’ll get it.”
“That must be Mom and Kevin. I’m glad he decided to come.” Rachel draped the washcloth over the middle section of the double sink.
“Yeah, they’re getting serious. It’s about time. Do you think Granny moving out prompted this?”
Rachel leaned back against the counter, grasping its edge on both sides of her. “I think it’s made her reassess her life. No one wants to be left alone.”
“Are you speaking about yourself?”
“Taylor will be leaving in five or six years. The boys will follow nine or ten years after that. I’ll be younger than Mom is now.”
“This is new. You have been thinking about it.”
“Lately.”
“Ever since Max came to town. Interesting.”
Taylor appeared in the entrance from the hallway. “Mom, Max is here, and Granny and Doug came right behind him. When is Nana gonna get here so we can open presents?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you give her a call?”
“I’ll just go to her house. She might need help with the gifts.” Taylor whirled around and rushed down the hall.
“Where’s Taylor racing off to?” Max filled the entrance not seconds after Taylor left.
Rachel’s pulse pounded through her veins. The conversation with her sister made her realize how much she was falling for this man. A man who was only concerned about his daughter. A man who didn’t believe in marriage—like she did. “To get Mom. Nothing can start until she comes.”
“Oh, I see why she’s in a hurry.”
“I’m gonna go see if Granny and Doug need any help.” Jordan squeezed past Max still in the doorway.
Could she flee, too? The tension in the room surrounded Rachel as though it were a palpable force. Her grip on the counter’s edge strengthened until her fingers hurt. “I didn’t think you would come.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” Why can’t their situation be simple? Girl meets boy. Girl falls in love with boy. Girl lives happily ever after married to boy. “It’s just the last time we talked we didn’t part on good terms.”
“I wouldn’t miss this first Christmas with—here in Tallgrass.”
The fleeting haunted look that flickered in and out of his eyes swelled her chest with feelings she wanted to deny. But she couldn’t. She loved him, and he didn’t feel that way toward her. “I hope you enjoy yourself.” She turned, facing the sink and grabbing the washcloth. With her focus on the already cleaned counter, she began wiping it down again. Anything to hide the fact her hands shook, her heart was breaking.
A commotion in the foyer drifted to her.
“It looks like your mom is here.”
The feel of his look on her burned through her defenses. “Yeah, the festivities can begin. Let them know I’ll be in there in a minute.”
A long pause, then Max said in a tone that sounded prickly like pine needles on a Christmas tree, “I’ll do that.”
Squeezing her eyes closed, she listened to him head down the hall toward the den. Happy voices echoed through the house. Laughter and shouts of joy followed. She needed to go in there and act as though she were fine. She didn’t know if she could. Not since Lawrence’s sudden death had she experienced such helplessness.
Lord, please help me. What do I do?
* * *
With the Christmas dinner eaten and the dishes done, Rachel finally sat in the den near the roaring fire. The heat warmed her chilled body. She needed an answer to what to do about Max. None came to mind. All the presents had been opened hours ago. The whole day had been filled with merriment and cheer, but nothing seemed to touch the coldness that embedded itself deep in her bones.
Soon she and Max would find out if Taylor was really his daughter, but lately in her heart she knew he was. Glimpses of them together confirmed it. The way she pressed her lips together when she was thinking. Max did, too. The tilt of his head reminded Rachel of Taylor when she was questioning something—usually her about something her daughter didn’t want to do.
“It’s time for secret Santa.” Jordan stood in the middle of the room. “For the newcomers, the rule is you can steal a present from someone else, but a gift can only be stolen twice then it’s dead. No one else can take it.” Holding a bag with numbers in it, her sister started with Granny. “Whoever gets one goes first. And remember, if you want someone else’s present don’t be shy. Steal it. This is the only time it’s okay to do that.”
“I got one,” her mother said, waving the piece of paper. She rose and walked to the group of wrapped boxes. After shaking a few, she selected a gift and opened it. Fudge from Granny.
Rachel looked at her number. Nine. By the time it was her turn five presents had been revealed. The one she wanted was a loaf of banana nut bread made by Sam with Granny’s help. She took it from Zachary. He frowned and grumbled but picked another gift to unwrap—a quilt showing different winter scenes that Rachel had made.
The next person, Doug, stole the quilt away from Zachary. More grumbles sounded and he selected a third package—a dinner cooked and catered by Max.
“Finally, a gift I can sink my teeth into.” Zachary pumped the air. “And no one better take this one.”
Max was next and wandered around the room, inspecting each gift. He paused in front of her, took the bread, saying, “Smells great,” but gave it back to Rachel, his gaze linking with hers for a long few seconds before he moved on.
She inhaled deeply. Her heart thumped against her chest.
Max stopped in front of Doug and grabbed the quilt that the older man tried to hide. “I believe this means it’s dead. No one can take it from me.”
Rachel peered at him as he sat, cradling the gift in his arms.
Taylor was the last person to pick a present. She headed straight for Rachel and snatched the bread. “This is my favorite.”
That left Rachel to put an end to the game by opening the last one under the tree. Everyone encouraged her to do that. She couldn’t. Instead she made a beeline for Zachary. There was no doubt what she wanted. She laid her palm out flat. “I’ll take the dinner.”
Zachary glared at her and begrudgingly gave it to her. “The only way I won’t get a gift stolen from me is to take the last one.” He plucked it up and tore into it. When he saw it, he smiled from ear to e
ar. “I got the best one of all. A Christmas story by my son.”
While Jordan and Granny asked for Zachary to read it out loud, Rachel folded the piece of paper into her hand. A dinner with Max or at least one he prepared for her. She probably wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t taken her quilt. The gesture gave her courage. A ray of hope. Was this the sign telling her what to do?
* * *
Rachel signed for the certified envelope three days after Christmas. When the mailman left, she hurried to her bedroom and closed the door, locking it. Taylor was working in the kitchen, complaining she had to work a few hours when it was winter vacation for everyone else. Rachel didn’t want her daughter to disturb her while she read the DNA test results. Sinking onto her bed, her hands trembling so much she could hardly hold the letter, she laid it in her lap and stared at it. Oklahoma Diagnostic Lab. The bold lettering taunted her. Open me.
If Taylor was Max’s daughter, she’d be tied to him forever. How was she going to be able to do that loving him the way she did and he not returning those feelings?
She started to rip into it when the phone rang. She snatched it up before Taylor answered it. “Hello.” Even that one word shook with her stress.
“Rachel, I got the DNA results.” Not a hint of what the results were sounded in Max’s husky, bass voice.
“I did, too.” She tore the end of the envelope.
“Have you read it yet?”
“No. You?”
“Yes. Read it. I’ll wait.”
She didn’t need to because she could hear it suddenly in his voice. Relief. Confirmation, finally. “Just a minute.” Placing the phone on the bedside table, she sucked in a fortifying breath and slid her finger in the slit to open it. She held the paper in both hands, her whole body quaking.
He was Taylor’s biological father. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. What was she going to do? “Rachel.”
Max’s voice came to her from the receiver. She picked it up. “I’m here.”
“We need to talk.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“I’ll have Jordan come get the kids and have them spend the night at the ranch. We can talk this evening.” Which only gave her a few hours to decide what to do.
“Fine. I’ll be over at seven. Okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” She quickly hung up before she dropped the phone.
Clasping her hands together, she stared at a spot on her floor, a flaw in the hardwood.
You can always refuse him access to Taylor, a little voice needled her.
She couldn’t. She didn’t know how she could keep this from Taylor because if she did and her daughter discovered she had, that could destroy their relationship. She couldn’t take that chance. Besides, Max could take her to court and then Taylor would definitely know what was going on. No, her daughter needed to find out from her.
But not before she knew Max’s intentions now that it was confirmed by the DNA test.
Pounding at her door jerked her head up. “Mom.” The knob rattled. “Why’s the door locked?”
Rachel shoved to her feet and let Taylor into the bedroom. “Can’t I have a few minutes of quiet time?”
“Fine. But Sam and Will have found the empty rolls of wrapping paper and are using them as swords.”
A crash alerted Rachel that one had connected with something fragile. She hurried down the hall toward the den, glad for once for a distraction.
Right before she went into the room, Taylor shouted from the other end of the corridor, “Can I stop today? I’ve finished the page of math problems.”
“Yes. Yes.” She turned into the den and saw the lamp she and Lawrence had bought their first Christmas, smashed on the floor.
She came to a halt. Tears swamped her, blurring her vision. She felt like that lamp, shattered into a hundred pieces.
* * *
Max paced his den floor. In a few minutes, he needed to go over to see Rachel about what they were going to do concerning Taylor. What he’d started two months before when he’d come to Tallgrass was finally coming to an end. Taylor would know the truth soon.
But what was he going to do about their relationship in the future? Not his and Taylor’s—that he knew what he was going to do—but his and Rachel’s.
He hadn’t thought he would do this, but the most logical thing for him to do was marry Rachel. Then he would truly be a part of Taylor’s family. He cared deeply for Rachel, and he could be a good father to Will and Sam.
It could work out for everyone. With his decision made, he left his house to go across the street to Rachel’s.
* * *
“Come in. Everyone is gone.” Rachel stepped to the side and let Max into her house that evening precisely at seven o’clock. “We’ll talk in here.” She gestured toward the living room, purposely choosing the more formal setting for their conversation.
To further distance herself from him, she took a chair across from him on the couch. She’d talked again with her lawyer today, and he’d assured her she stood on firm grounds and was in a better position than Max, in this case. And yet, that didn’t stop her from feeling as though Max had a right to spend time with Taylor. How could she totally ignore that he was her daughter’s biological father and the fact Taylor was taken away from him through no fault of his?
“I guess the first question to ask is where do we go from here?” Max sat on the edge of the sofa, his legs spread apart, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together. The only indication of his stress was in his white knuckles.
“We talk to Taylor and let her know you’re her biological father.”
Some of his tension faded, his grip loosening, color flooding back into his fingers. “When?”
“I’ll see if Mom or Granny can watch the boys tomorrow evening. We’ll tell her then.”
“I want to tell her everything. Nothing held back. She deserves that.”
“Yes.”
“I want to be in her life, be here for her. I want her to know that.”
“What’s that mean to you? I won’t give up custody of Taylor. She needs to know I love her no matter what a test says.”
“I agree. Taylor comes first in whatever we do.” He dropped his gaze away for a long moment, tension seeping back into his frame. When he reestablished eye contact with her, she could tell from his expression he’d come to a decision. “I’ve been thinking long and hard about this—about a way this could work with no one getting hurt.” He paused, then rushed on. “We could get married. Be a family.”
His proposal stole her breath, her thoughts. All she could do was stare at him.
The solution would be perfect if only he loved her. “Have you forgiven Alicia for what she did?” She finally asked the only question that came into her mind.
He clamped his mouth together, the hard line of his jaw announcing his answer without him saying a word. “No, I’m trying. But she took so much from me.”
“So, your feelings about marriage are still the same? I can’t marry anyone who doesn’t believe in it. I can’t marry anyone who doesn’t love me. I want to be the reason a man wants to marry me, not my daughter. It wouldn’t work, and you said so yourself you won’t go through that kind of marriage again.”
“You aren’t anything like Alicia. There is no comparison.” The savage twist to his words accentuated the anger he still held close to his heart.
“I love you. Do you love me?”
“I—” His hesitation spoke volumes.
“No, I won’t do that to myself.”
She wanted—deserved—a man who could answer without a second thought. “I won’t keep you away from Taylor, but I won’t put my children through a marriage that’s a sham. There’s more to consider here than just Taylor.” Me. My breaking heart. She rose and nearly sank back down from the weakness that attacked her legs.
He came to his feet, a bleak look on his face. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll see you tomor
row evening at the same time.” She had to cut him off, not wanting to hear his excuses of why he couldn’t love her for herself, not the fact she was Taylor’s mother. She had to mean more to a man than that. She started for the foyer, desperately needing to be alone. “Taylor will dictate how much you’re in her life. That’s the way it has to be. I won’t force my daughter into something she doesn’t want.”
He didn’t say anything but strode toward the door and thrust it open. “Fine, Taylor will always come first. See you tomorrow evening.”
Tears crammed her throat, but she wouldn’t cry in front of him. Taylor would always come first. His clipped words cut through the numb feeling descending. And that was why she would have to find a way to distance herself from Max, harden her heart to him, or she wasn’t sure how she would make it through the days to come.
* * *
The past few days had left Max exhausted, working long hours while trying to deal with the confirmation he was really Taylor’s father. He had known it, but it was good to have it proved with the DNA test.
As he approached Rachel’s house, his gut churned as though a caustic poison had eaten holes in it. He’d taken antacids all day but nothing calmed his stomach. What if Taylor rejected him? What if the past two months had meant nothing?
Why hadn’t Rachel agreed to marry him? He cared about her. He loved—the thought slammed him to a halt.
The anguish he’d seen in Rachel’s face yesterday evening when she’d told him she loved him nipped at his composure and roiled through him like a tsunami. He couldn’t dwell on that right now. One thing at a time. Moving forward, he pushed it back into the dark recesses of his mind only to be shoved forward again when Rachel answered the door.
The haunted look in her eyes ripped his composure to shreds. He’d hurt her badly and hadn’t wanted to. He’d thought asking her to marry him could be a solution to the situation, but now he realized it hadn’t been. It had only worsened the problem, and now she wouldn’t believe him if he suddenly declared his love.
An Act of Love (New Beginnings Book 6) Page 16