Silhouette Christmas Stories

by Ann Major

She looked at his face for a long time, and then she looked away. "I-I wish I could believe that, but I can't." Methodically she began to stack the dishes. "This is real life. You and I-we're so different. I'm what I am. I like flowers, kids, friends, wide-open places. You're a Hale."

  "I'm a man. You're a woman."

  "It's not that simple. We can't just erase what happened. I can remember dozens of beautiful women on your arm. How long could you be happy with me?"

  "Forever."

  "Do you think Georgia would ever allow that?"

  His stomach went tight and hard, as if None had punched him there. "Do you think I'm like Larry? Do you think I would allow anyone, even my mother, to come between me and the woman I love?"

  "If not her, then her money." Norie's voice was a bitter, tormented whisper. She walked to the sink with the dishes and shoved the handle of the faucet. Water splashed loudly. "You've accomplished what you came here to accomplish… and more." She flushed. "We've got to get your car pulled out of that ditch. Then you can go."

  At the terrible finality in her low voice, Grant felt something inside himself break and die. It was as if his heart was being twisted and wrenched, and the agony was unbearable.

  He hardly knew what he was doing as he sprang blindly to his feet. His chair crashed behind him to the floor.

  "Grant!"

  He moved toward her and jerked her hard against his body. A dish fell and shattered in the sink.

  "So you think money, any amount of money, could change what I feel for you?" His hard gaze flicked over her pale face. She seemed small and defenseless against his enormous body. "What did last night mean to you anyway?" he demanded roughly.

  "I-I don't know. I don't know. I just know I've got my life and you've got yours."

  "Is that really all we've got?" Grant studied her, straining to read her expression. But she seemed a very long way away. "Damn it. I can't let you go."

  "You don't have a choice."

  "There's always a choice, Norie. Always. That's all life is."

  She began to struggle, fighting him silently to escape, but she was like a child in his grasp.

  His mouth took hers. He held her against him until she stilled, crushed until she did nothing more to stop his hands as they molded her curves to fit the tough contours of his body.

  When she fought him no more, when she became smooth and warm, when he could feel her quickening response, only then did the stubborn will to conquer her with the force of his own passion subside.

  Tenderly, he kissed away the salty tears that had spilled down her cheeks. At last he withdrew his mouth, his hands. Norie drew a long breath and opened her eyes. Then she pulled herself free of him and stumbled shakily backward toward the kitchen door, one of her hands clutching her throat. For a numb moment she could only stare at him.

  "Norie, please… "

  For a second longer those big, scared eyes were upon him.

  Then she broke and ran.

  Chapter Six

  The icy morning air was biting cold as it seeped through her jean jacket and her thin yellow dress. Noreen was pale and shivering, and her unhappy dark gaze was fixed on Jimmy Pargman and his wrecker and the muddy black Cadillac he had just pulled out of the ditch. In his car, Grant was coolly ignoring Norie as he tried to start the engine. His lean face was set and hard. He had not spoken to her once since he'd kissed her and she'd run out of the kitchen. He was now just as anxious to be gone as she was to be rid of him.

  Her heart beat jerkily. In another minute Grant would drive away, this time forever, unless she did something to stop him-and that was something she would never do. Because of Darius. Because she was too afraid of the Hale money and of what Georgia might try to do if she found out about Darius.

  But as Norie looked at Grant, she felt a terrible stab of longing. More than anything she wanted to cross the road, to fling herself into his arms. To forget how different they were. To hold him, to touch him, to smooth that black tumbling lock out of his face… just one last time. Her eyes swam with unshed tears. And this weakness made her despise herself.

  Fragments from last night kept replaying in her mind like newly edited film clippings. She remem-bered the way his fingers had unbuttoned her gown, the way his hands and mouth had roamed everywhere until she was as thoroughly and wantonly aroused as he.

  How could she have let him? How could she have been so totally unlike herself, so shamelessly forward? She was the one who had gone to him when he'd called, to his room, to his bed, knowing what might happen.

  She had forgotten Darius, forgotten everything that really mattered to her. Nights like that were probably commonplace to a man like Grant, to a man who could have any beautiful woman he desired.

  The Cadillac's engine purred, and Norie felt a hopeless, sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes. She had to forget him! To go on as if last night had never happened. To go on as if her feelings for him didn't exist.

  When she opened her eyes again, she saw the Liskas' familiar blue Suburban coming toward her.

  Sara was bringing Darius home! Dear God!

  Grant opened the door of the Cadillac just as Sara braked alongside Norie and rolled down the windows on her side.

  "Hey, Mom!" Darius's blue eyes were wide with curiosity as he looked first at her, and then at the Cadillac across the road. "Guess what? Raymond let Leo and me play his Nintendo, and we didn't even break it."

  For a paralyzed, horrified moment Noreen couldn't speak. Then she managed a weak, "That's great, hon."

  Grant was paying Jimmy, so he didn't notice Darius.

  Noreen touched Sara's arm. "Why don't you drive on to the house? I'm almost through here. We'll have tea while the kids play."

  "Who's he?" Suddenly Sara saw the tears in her friend's eyes. "Hey… "

  "Later, Sara," she whispered chokily. "I'll tell you everything."

  "Why do I know you really won't?"

  "Please… " The sudden huge knot in Norie's throat made it impossible for her to explain.

  Sara's brown eyes softened with compassion. She stepped on the gas just as Jimmy did the same. The Suburban turned off to head toward Norie's house. The wrecker headed back into town.

  Noreen and Grant were left alone, standing on opposite sides of that desolate bit of asphalt in that wide-open landscape that seemed to stretch away forever. Noreen stole a glance at him. He was looking at her, too. And they were as mute and awkward with one another as if they were strangers.

  Grant opened his trunk and pulled a shoebox and briefcase from it. He opened the shoebox and dangled a pair of sparkly red shoes from the tips of two lean fingers.

  Her heart was pounding with fright. She had no choice but to cross the road and retrieve them.

  She came so close to him, their steamy breaths mingled. Her hands touched his briefly. Warm skin against warm skin. They both tensed in acute awareness of one another. Then she was snatching her shoes from him and replacing them noisily into their tissue paper and box. He was briskly unsnapping his briefcase and pulling out a thick sheaf of legal documents.

  She raised her eyebrows.

  "These papers deal with your inheritance." His voice was harsh and loud.

  "I told you I don't want money, Grant."

  "That may be, but getting rid of it is going to be a little bit more complicated than that." His dark face was as stern as death, his blue eyes unreadable.

  He handed her his card. It was so crisp and sharp it cut her fingers.

  "Call my secretary and make an appointment. I'll have her help you do whatever you decide to do about it."

  He was so coldly formal Norie's blood seemed to freeze in her veins. He was killing her. She almost broke down. Instead she met his chilling blue gaze.

  Not a muscle moved in her beautiful face. Nor did she allow even the glimmer of a tear. She held herself as rigidly as he.

  "All right," she managed, forcing herself to speak, surprising herself by sounding calmly un
concerned.

  For a moment longer he stared at her. His mouth hardened. "So, it's goodbye? This time for good?"

  When she said nothing to break the frozen silence, he opened the door of his car and hurled his great body angrily inside. "Have it your way. It's not even goodbye." He twisted the keys viciously in the ignition. "Merry Christmas, Norie."

  As his big car zoomed away from her, the tears she had held back slipped down her cheeks in a scalding flow.

  She watched his car until it vanished into the big empty landscape, and the knowledge that she was doing the right thing didn't help her at all.

  "I'm sorry, Grant." Her voice was low and muffled by her sobs. "So sorry."

  But he was too far away to hear her. Too far away to know of the desperate pain in her heart that his leaving caused her.

  Norie sat at the same table where she'd shared breakfast with Grant only an hour earlier. On the surface, everything was just as before. Except for the fact that it was Sara who was seated at the table with her.

  There was no visible trace of Grant in the kitchen. No visible trace of him anywhere except in her heart.

  The farmhouse was cozily warm. Sara had lit several of the space heaters, both upstairs and downstairs. The two women were in the kitchen dipping their tea bags into their cups. Leo and Darius were in Node's bedroom looking at the ornaments and presents.

  "So who was he, Norie?" Sara demanded quietly. Her soft brown eyes were aglow with curiosity and concern.

  Norie sipped her tea, too upset to reply. She wondered if her life would ever be the same without him. Instead of answering her friend, she listened to their sons in the next room.

  "Yeah, Leo, I made this one."

  "I could tell 'cause you forgot to paint the reindeer's hoof."

  "And I popped the popcorn and stringed it. Mom made most of the good things though."

  "You don't have as many presents as me under your tree."

  "That's 'cause I want something special. See, Santa's gotta bring it all the way from the North Pole. And it could smother in his bag."

  "What do you want?"

  "Santa knows."

  "I bet it's a dog."

  "It's sorta like a dog. Only better."

  The boys began to whisper conspiratorially.

  But Norie couldn't hear them. Her own heart was pounding too hard.

  "Mom!" Darius yelled from the doorway.

  "Darius, that's your outside voice," she murmured softly, correcting him out of maternal habit.

  His impatient tone was only a fraction softer. "Where's all my stuff?"

  "In your room."

  "Everything?" He cocked his four-year-old brows as arrogantly as any Hale.

  She nodded.

  "Mom, I had things out where I wanted them."

  She smiled. "Out is where you want everything." But she was talking to an empty doorway. The boys were racing each other up the stairs like a pair of rough-and-tumble puppies.

  "Boys! Leo! No running!" Sara called.

  They pretended not to hear. The wild footsteps careened up the stairs and down the hall overhead.

  "They sound like a herd of stampeding elephants." Sara giggled.

  Norie cringed when doors opened and slammed. "So much for minding."

  "They're just excited over Christmas," Sara said.

  Norie sipped her tea.

  "So who was that very attractive man?" Sara repeated her earlier question.

  Norie had dreaded this. "My brother-in-law."

  "What happened to his car?" Sara eyed the plump stack of legal papers in their blue folders that Norie had placed on the edge of the table. "Why was he here?"

  "Sara, it's something I can't talk about, not even to you."

  "Jim's right about you being mysterious."

  Galloping footsteps crashed down the stairs, and a breathless Darius flung himself into the kitchen. "Hey, Mom, who slept in the guest bed upstairs?"

  Sara arched her brows knowingly, and Noreen turned red.

  "Can we play in there, Mom? The fire's on, and it's real warm."

  "No!" The single word was too sharp, and Darius, who was not used to such sternness from her, looked hurt. More gently she said, "You bring your things down here where we can watch you."

  "But we want to play up there by ourselves."

  "No."

  "You never let us."

  "Darius!"

  Mother and son stared at one another across the kitchen. Darius's lower lip swelled mutinously.

  "Darius, remember about Santa. He rewards good little boys."

  Darius gulped in a big breath.

  Then Leo said, "Can we build a house by the tree with blankets and cushions?"

  "Of course, but try not to make too big a mess."

  Sara laughed. "You don't mind asking the impossible."

  Leo was running back up the stairs, and Darius was right behind him.

  The showdown was over. At least the one between mother and son. Norie knew that Sara was more determined.

  "So your brother-in-law spent the weekend here?" Sara asked softly. "With you? Alone?"

  Norie got up to pour more water into the kettle. Then she went to the stove. Her back was to Sara. "He skidded into the ditch. I couldn't very well leave him there."

  "Something tells me you didn't want to leave him there."

  "Much as I love you, Sara, I'm just not ready to talk about Grant."

  "Well, I'll be here when you are."

  "I know. You have always been my dear, dear friend."

  It was a long time before Norie could turn around and pretend to Sara that everything was normal.

  The next few days were the bleakest and loneliest Norie had ever known. They were even worse than when she had come to town pregnant and alone to live with Miss Maddie. No matter what she did or where she went, Norie couldn't quit thinking of Grant.

  When she was Christmas shopping, she would see things she wanted to buy for him. She'd even bought one gift-a beautiful blue silk dress shirt that would look wonderful on him because of his blue eyes. It had seemed so stupid and silly, buying a present for a man she would never see again.

  When she got home, she hid the gift under her bed. But sometimes she took it out to admire it secretly and dream of really being able to give it to him.

  At night she lay awake thinking about him, seeing in her mind his every gesture, his every smile, remembering the exact things he'd said to her. Most of all, she remembered the way he'd gently, tenderly, brought her again and again to shuddering heights of ecstasy.

  And every time she looked at Darius, she saw Grant. With his black hair and dazzling blue eyes, Darius was almost a miniature replica of his handsome uncle. Darius did not mention the special gift he had asked Santa for again, but every time Norie looked at him she knew that he was silently longing for a father-as once Grant had longed for his father. She felt Darius's special excitement, his expectancy, and these things only made her sadder.

  Somehow she got through the days and the nights.

  It was Christmas Eve, the night her church held a beautiful candlelight service. Norie was sitting alone on a wooden pew watching Darius, who was in the children's choir. Her black dress was tied at the waist with a handmade lavender sash. As always, large loops dangled from her ears…

  Darius and Leo were wearing white choir robes with huge red satin bows tied beneath their scrubbed chins. They looked like angels, and they sounded like them too, as their voices and those of the other children filled the sanctuary with the lovely familiar melodies of sacred Christmas carols.

  The service was an hour long, and it was a time of beauty and peace for Norie. All too soon the lights of the sanctuary were put out. For a moment there was darkness except for a single candle. Then the candles of the congregation were lit one by one. A hush filled the church, and Norie whispered a prayer that made her own candle flutter gently. Merry Christmas, Grant. Be happy. Wherever you are.

  "Silent Night" was played,
and so many candles were lit that the church became more brilliant than she'd ever seen it.

  She felt an arm brush her waist possessively, and she turned.

  Grant was there beside her.

  For a moment he stood without moving, just looking down at her. Then he smiled at her boyishly, charmingly. His eyes were filled with tenderness and warmth, and some powerful emotion she couldn't be sure of.

  She could barely see him for the mist of emotion that rushed at her.

  "Grant… " A radiant smile broke across her face.

  Black hair, blue eyes. He was movie-star handsome in a dark, conventional suit and tie as he towered beside her.

  Her pulse stirred with a thrilling joy.

  His hand closed over hers, and suddenly she knew how much she loved him. It didn't matter that she could never be as socially correct as his mother or the other women he had dated. Norie was still scared, scared of loving him, but in all her life she had never felt the swell of love that she felt for this man. The past-Larry, the Hales, their money and its misuse, all the grief, the rejection, and the heartbreak-no longer mattered so much.

  "Merry Christmas," she whispered, her voice warm and light and happy.

  "I had to come, gypsy girl," he said quietly.

  His low, raspy voice was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard; more beautiful even than the sound of the angels. Gently he touched one of her gold loop earrings.

  Her lashes, strangely heavy, fluttered down, but she felt the warmth of his caring in every cell of her body.

  For her the world held promise once again.

  Shyly, she squeezed his strong hand.

  She was wrapped in happiness as she listened to the haunting loveliness of the last verse of "Silent Night."

  For the first time in years Christmas really seemed a time of love and renewal and rebirth. Then she glanced up and beneath the glimmering jewel-bright stained glass windows, she saw two angelic-looking little boys in white robes and red bows. Darius's big blue eyes were wide and curious as he studied Grant. Then he smiled happily, knowingly, and he sang so joyously that Norie imagined she could hear his voice soaring above all the others in the choir and congregation. It was Christmas Eve, and Darius believed very firmly in the magic of Christmas.