by Pat Warren
There was a scolding tone to Fitz’s voice that made Kate feel even worse. “Please, I don’t want to be any trouble.” She looked up and saw that Aaron was preparing a pan of hot water to soak her grimy feet. The last straw. “I’m going up to take a shower.” A bit unsteady but determined not to show it, she rose.
“Sure, you do that, dear, and I’ll bring your tea up shortly.” Understanding Kate’s embarrassment, Fitz touched Aaron’s arm and gave a quick negative shake to her head, then took the bowl from him. “You might want to get out of your wet things, as well.”
Instead, he went after Kate. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
As if in answer, a deep sneeze shook her, followed by a second. “I will be, but thank you.” She sniffled into his damp handkerchief, thinking she’d have to launder it tomorrow. But now, all she wanted was to stand under a hot spray until she stopped shivering. She left the kitchen, hoping her soiled feet weren’t leaving tracks.
“I’ll check on you later,” Aaron called after her, then slipped out of his own soggy shoes. “We’ve messed up your floor but good. Sorry, Fitz.”
She took his jacket from him. “Don’t you worry about the floor, just go clean up.”
At the top of the stairs, Aaron heard Kate’s shower already going. Unbidden, the image of her standing beneath the spray, the water spreading through her blond hair and sluicing down her slender limbs, came to him so sharply that he sucked in a quick breath. He could actually picture the texture of her skin, smell the soapy fragrance, almost taste the smooth, wet skin.
Disgusted with himself, he shook his head, banishing the vision, and went into his room.
He waited an hour before going to her, telling himself he just wanted to be sure she was all right. After all, she was an employee in his home. He’d allowed her plenty of time to shower and change and for Fitz to fuss over her. He’d heard the murmur of voices and the clink of the spoon to cup as she’d taken hot tea in to Kate and stayed to make sure she drank some. Probably laced it with Irish whiskey, Aaron thought, recalling Fitz’s favorite remedy for colds. It had been quiet in the hallway for some time now.
Slipping a sweatshirt on with his jeans, he stepped across the hall to Kate’s room and saw that Fitz had left the door ajar, so she could hear Kate if she needed her, he supposed. His bare feet were quiet on the thick gray carpeting as he went inside. An old-fashioned lamp his father had given him years ago sat on the nightstand, its yellow glass base serving as a night-light. He noticed the empty teacup and the aspirin bottle on the table, as well.
Moving closer to the bed, he saw that she was lying on her side, her legs curled up as if for warmth, one hand holding the edge of the quilt close to her neck. Her breathing was slow and even, indicating she was asleep. Still, he didn’t leave.
She looked so small under the mound of covers, her lovely blond hair fanned out on the blue pillowcase. He could smell her shampoo in the room from the adjoining bath and some sort of fragrant lotion. Her face was pale, the skin almost translucent, her lashes dark against her cheeks. Aaron drew in a deep breath and took a chance, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
She seemed not to notice, so he stayed, relaxing a fraction. He wanted to touch her but was afraid she’d awaken and he wouldn’t know what to say to her. He hadn’t needed Fitz to tell him that he was sending mixed signals to this fragile woman. That he wanted her was evident to both of them. Maybe to all three of them. But it would be unfair of him to start something that would end badly.
She was so lovely, he couldn’t help thinking. She smelled so feminine, like the room she slept in. He’d missed that, missed the softness a woman brought into a man’s life. Although he’d been annoyed with her tonight for forgetting the time and getting caught in a storm, he’d also felt protective and strong when he’d found her—something he hadn’t felt in a long while.
Kate was the sort of woman who made a man feel powerful, made him want to fight dragons for her, to shield her from harm. Yet she was gutsy enough to stand firm against a large dog that had threatened his child. And she’d gone for a walk alone on a cold, wintry evening in the dark, ignoring Fitz’s warning, unafraid of either the elements or anyone she might encounter. He smiled at the small container of Mace he’d found in her jacket pocket. Fat lot of protection that would have been.
She’d refused his offer to let him help her clean up. Had it been because she didn’t want him to touch her, or because she wanted his touch too much? Without his permission, the kiss they’d shared in the hospital waiting room floated to his mind. Looking down now at her generous mouth, it was all he could do not to lean down and press his lips to hers again. He imagined waking her, seeing her smile filled with surprised pleasure, her arms reaching for him as she turned back the covers and invited him to join her.
Aaron quickly stood, reaching to rub the back of his neck with tense fingers. What in hell was he doing to himself with these fantasies? He had no business here in the bedroom of his child’s nanny, no business wanting this young woman, no business hurting her. Angry, annoyed, frustrated, he left Kate’s room and returned to his own.
She waited until she heard his door close before she dared open her eyes. Kate had been dozing when she’d heard him come in, and had kept her eyes closed because she didn’t feel up to any further explanations of her silly escapade. But apparently, he hadn’t come to talk.
What had he been thinking as he’d sat looking at her for so long? She inhaled the lingering fresh scent of the soap he’d used and even stuck out a hand and touched the indentation where he’d sat on the bed. Just to make sure she hadn’t dreamed the whole episode.
She’d thought that her own emotions were a confused jumble, and realized now that Aaron’s were, too. He wanted but wouldn’t allow himself to have what she would freely give for the asking. She wanted and was denied because of his stubbornness, his refusal to let himself love again.
Time, Kate thought. Perhaps he just needed time. On that thought, she closed her eyes.
Kate had always loved Thanksgiving. Ever since her teens, the dinner preparations had been hers alone. Carol Spencer had never learned to cook, too busy to waste her talents on something she could hire someone to do. But on Thanksgiving, their cook had had the day off, and Kate had taken over.
Which was why she’d talked Aaron into letting Fitz go have dinner with her daughter’s family—she would do it all. Just as in years before, she rose early and was in the kitchen with Jamie contentedly fed and playing in her playpen while Kate worked on making the stuffing. Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade was trumpeting away on the small television set on the counter, the windows were steamed from the warmth of the oven and the tempting aroma of mincemeat and pumpkin filled the room as Aaron walked in.
“I had no idea you’d begin so early,” he commented as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
Kate shoved back a lock of hair with the back of her hand as she set the bowl of dressing aside. “It’s not so early by now, nearly ten.” She nodded toward the TV. “Santa should be putting in an appearance any minute.”
“Then I’d better behave.” He sipped his coffee as he walked over to greet his daughter. She laughed up at him, jabbering away in her own language, then went back to chewing on a doll’s plastic arm. She was teething and chewed on anything handy, including his finger. After a couple of minutes, he turned back to find Kate wrestling with the turkey, trying to balance it with one hand while shoving in stuffing with the other. “Here, let me give you a hand.”
“All right. You hold and I’ll stuff.”
Standing over the sink, he held the bird open as she expertly crammed in stuffing. “You look to be an old hand at this.”
“I am. Thanksgiving dinner’s my specialty.” She glanced over her shoulder to the far counter where the two pies were cooling. “I made both since I don’t know which your father prefers.” That was the one thing she was nervous about, that Aaron’s father was coming to dinner.
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��He’s not fussy. Fitz used to do kitchen duty when I was young, but now I think he eats out more than in.” Carefully, he shifted the bird so she could fill the neck cavity. Of necessity, she had to stand close to him, a fact that Aaron both enjoyed and worried about.
“I like to eat out, but I’d tire of it if I did it daily.” She scooped up the last spoonful, but instead of adding it to the rest, she held out the spoon to him. “Want a taste?”
“Mmm, I was hoping you’d ask.” He managed to get his mouth around the large spoon and made appreciative noises as he chewed. “Delicious. What’s in there?”
Kate bent to sew shut the cavity. “A secret recipe. Can’t tell. Must take it to my grave.”
“I won’t press, then, especially since we just got you well again.”
She realized he was referring to last Monday when she’d gotten so wet. “Well again? I sneezed twice, and that was it. The predicted cold never arrived. I come from sturdy farm stock, you know.”
“Yeah, you’re tough, all right. You must weigh a hundred pounds.”
She put a knot in the seam. “A little more than that.” She straightened, shifting back and all but slamming into him. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were so close.” Which was a lie. She’d felt him moving closer and had wondered why.
Caught, Aaron thought as he stepped back. How was it that being around her had him acting out of character so frequently? “Are you ready to put him in the pan?”
“Her. Hens are more tender.” She set the pan on the counter.
She was tossing out straight lines that were hard to ignore. He decided to relax and enjoy the day, not overthink things too much. “Is that a fact?” Playfully, he tested her arm in a two-finger grip several times from wrist to shoulder. “Yeah, pretty tender.”
Surprised at his light mood, Kate smiled up at him. “I told you. Okay, put her in place.”
He did so with a minimum of fuss, then watched her tent foil over the bird. She stepped out of the way, opened the oven door for him and he shoved the pan in. “I can’t wait. I love turkey.” But he thought of something that had him frowning. “I’m glad it’s a big one. We’re going to have one more guest.”
Rinsing her hands, Kate glanced at him. “Oh?”
Coffee cup in hand, he leaned against the counter, crossing his ankles. “Dad called a while ago. Woke me up with the good news. My brother, Johnny, is back in town. Do you mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind. It’s your home.” Reaching for the towel, she studied him. “You’re not terribly fond of your brother?”
Aaron sighed. “You could say that. He’s caused Dad a lot of grief. Can’t seem to settle down. He’s got wanderlust, I guess. Maybe you know the type.”
Kate took bacon out of the fridge and set about making breakfast. “Do I ever. They’re irresponsible, think mostly of their own needs, but utterly charming.”
“That’s for sure. Johnny thinks of himself as an entrepreneur. He’s always got some big investment he’s working on, some exciting venture that’s going to pay big. Of course, he’ll need a little seed money to get it off the ground. So he comes home and hits on Dad.” Aaron shook his head.
“And does your father go along with his schemes?”
“Sometimes. Most times. I know that Johnny’s squandered quite a few so-called loans. But he always assures Dad that when his ship comes in, he’ll pay him back. So far, the ship’s nowhere in sight.”
“He doesn’t live here in town, then?” she asked as she turned over bacon slices.
Aaron spoke as he refilled their coffee cups and handed Kate hers. “Only when he needs more financing. Let’s see, he’s invested in shrimp boats in the Caribbean, a couple of oil wells in Oklahoma a while back and then there was the computer operation in California.”
She took a sip of coffee, then pushed down the toast and started the eggs. “Computers are big these days, so maybe he made it with that.”
Aaron busied himself setting the table. “I’d be willing to bet that Johnny’s the only guy who could lose money even on a sure thing.” He paused, trying to be honest. “I want to be fair. He’s not a bad guy. He just doesn’t believe in working his way up the ladder. He grabs on to every scheme that comes along, absolutely certain that one day he’s going to show us all and make a killing. But when things don’t work out, it’s never his fault, always the other guy’s.”
She glanced up from buttering the toast. “It certainly doesn’t seem as if the two of you came from the same family. You’re so solid and reliable, so dedicated to your work.”
He thought that over a moment. “Maybe, but in a way, I’ve always envied Johnny. I can’t charm the birds out of the trees like he can.”
Carrying the plate of bacon to the table, she flashed him a smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
Watching Jamie happily mangle a crust of toast after having eaten her second breakfast, Aaron sat back to finish his coffee. He’d enjoyed the morning, helping in the kitchen, the companionship of cooking together, talking over breakfast. He didn’t want their new closeness to end and didn’t want to ask himself why. He remembered something Kate had said earlier and decided to pursue it. “When I first mentioned Johnny, you said you knew the type. Care to elaborate?”
It was no big secret, so she saw no reason not to tell him. “I grew up with a man very much like your brother. Evan Falkner was a neighbor’s son, a couple of years older than I. We were both only children and sort of gravitated together, attended the same schools, had the same friends and so on. Later, friendship sort of evolved into an engagement, and everyone told me how lucky I was, how charming Evan was, how much fun he was, always willing to try new things.”
Kate folded her napkin, remembering. “He was all that but he also bored very easily. He was always looking for adventure, new thrills, excitement. I found it very difficult to live in that charged-up atmosphere.”
“You didn’t notice this about him before the engagement?”
She gave a short laugh aimed at herself. “You’d think I would have, since I’d known him since I was about eight. In my defense, he was very good at smoothing over my worries, but his wanderlust increased as he got older. Then one day, I came home from picking out my wedding dress, and he was waiting for me. Months before, he’d applied for a job with the State Department without telling me and he’d just gotten word that he’d been accepted. He was leaving for Paris the following week.”
“Just like that?”
“Mmm-hmm. He said he was sorry but he’d have made a rotten husband anyhow. He simply had to get this out of his system. When he did, he’d return and, if I was still available…Well, you know.”
Aaron threw away Jamie’s soggy toast and offered her a drink of juice. “I hope you told him to go straight to hell.”
“Actually, I didn’t. It was partially my fault for not having seen the man for what he was and for deluding myself that I could change the faults I did find. But you know, except for my pride, I wasn’t really hurt. We’d drifted together more or less because our families expected us to be a couple, not because of some grand passion.” She rose to get a washcloth to clean up Jamie. “I talked with his parents at my folks’ funeral. Evan is still unmarried, still traveling, still as irresponsible as he was three years ago. And he will be as long as they keep bankrolling and excusing him.”
“Exactly what I always tell Dad about Johnny. But you have to admit, charming guys like those two do hold a certain appeal for women.”
“For some women, perhaps.” She lifted Jamie from her high chair and kissed her cheek.
Aaron stood, his eyes seeking hers. “You never loved this Evan?”
Kate couldn’t help wondering why he wanted to know. “No, I never did.” She turned to Jamie, who was rubbing her eyes. “I think it’s someone’s nap time. We’ve been up since six.”
He smiled at his daughter and stroked her soft cheek. “Sleep well, Jamie.” To Kate, he said, “I’ll clean up here and help you
with the rest of dinner when you come back.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He turned to clear the table.
Bouncing the baby on her arm, Kate found herself smiling as she went upstairs.
Aaron opened the door to admit his family, punctual as always, arriving at four on the dot amid a flurry of snowflakes just beginning to fall. “Come in, come in.”
Jamie, in his arms and wearing a pretty green jumper, squealed as her grandfather’s cold hands framed her chubby cheeks. She’d picked up a few pounds since Kate had taken over the cooking, giving her a healthy glow.
Next, William Carver shook hands with his son, but his eyes were on Kate, who was wearing a soft wool sweater and matching slacks in the same shade of green as his granddaughter’s outfit. He couldn’t help but think how much the two resembled one another. He greeted her warmly, thinking how inviting the house looked with a wreath made of autumn leaves and Indian corn hanging on the door. And inside, wonderful smells came from the kitchen, and a crackling fire was going in the grate. Without Kate’s touch and presence, he doubted that his eldest son would even have celebrated the holiday.
Aaron handed the baby to Kate while his father hung up their coats and he waited for his brother to park the car. Then Johnny was striding up the walk in his usual confident manner, carrying flowers and wearing a cocky grin. Aaron forced himself to smile.
“Hello, big brother,” Johnny said, giving Aaron a quick hug before hurrying in.
No coat for his macho brother, Aaron thought. Instead, a cashmere pullover that had to have cost several hundred dollars. He wondered who had bought Johnny the sweater as he closed the front door. “Make yourselves comfortable,” Aaron invited, moving to the sideboard to line up several wine decanters.
“No Scotch, bro?” Johnny asked.
Frowning, William sat down on the couch near the fire. “It’s a bit early for the hard stuff, Johnny.”