Silhouette Christmas Stories

by Ann Major

  Darius!

  Grant still didn't know about Darius!

  Dear God. She made a quick, silent prayer.

  After the hymn was over, and the lights came back on, Norie managed to slip away from Grant and ask Sara to keep Darius for an hour or two, so she could be alone with Grant and explain.

  Then she rushed out of the church and found Grant waiting for her by her truck.

  Chapter Seven

  Norie's eyes kept flicking apprehensively to the bright reflection of Grant's headlights in her rearview mirror. What would he say? What would he do when she told him about Darius? Grant had always believed in her honesty.

  Never before had the drive home seemed so long. How in the world would she go about explaining?

  There's something I haven't told you…

  A little something I have to explain…

  I wanted to tell you, Grant, but…

  How could she make him understand why she had run away? Why she'd been so afraid of the Hales and what their money might do?

  Larry had married her because she was different, and he'd wanted to defy his mother. Norie had been caught in the middle of their troubled relationship. She'd been too naive to pick up on the secret machinations that were weakening her marriage until it was too late. Larry's incessant extravagances had made it all too tempting to him to go to Georgia for the money he needed, and all too easy for Georgia to use this as a weapon to destroy Larry's fragile new loyalty to Norie.

  After Larry's death Norie had felt utterly rejected. She'd been afraid that she might still be too naive to prevent Georgia from using her money to divide her from her son. No, Grant would never understand.

  The high-ceilinged rooms glowed with rosy, welcoming light and warmth and smelled sweetly of fir and spruce. Norie was in the kitchen nervously making tea. Darius's things were everywhere, but Grant hadn't seemed to notice. He'd been too busy lighting the heaters and laying out his presents for her in front of the Christmas tree.

  He had taken off his jacket and was kneeling by the tree. From where she stood, Norie watched him with a longing that was so intense it bordered on pain. She marveled at the play of powerful muscles in his back beneath the fine fabric of his shirt every time he moved, at the way the light shimmered iridescently on his blue-black hair.

  Finally he became aware of her and met her gaze with a hungry, flushed look that made her cheeks glow even brighter than his. As she moved toward him, he picked up a small green present wrapped with a golden bow. "I want you to open this one first, gypsy girl," he said in a deep, husky voice.

  "Now?"

  "Now," he said softly.

  She remembered the blue silk shirt hidden beneath her bed. "I bought you something, too."

  "Did you?" He grinned at her. "I wasn't sure whether you'd be glad to see me or whether you'd throw me out."

  She nuzzled her face against his shoulder. "It's a good thing you didn't call. I would have told you not to come. But now that you're here… " She slid her pale hands upward across the broad expanse of his chest until they found the knot of his tie, but she was so clumsy at loosening it that he had to help her. Unbuttoning the first three buttons, she slid her fingers inside and touched his hot, warm skin. "I'm glad you came," she whispered in a hushed voice. "So very glad." With her lips she began to explore the hollow at the base of his throat.

  "I kept thinking about your turkey. It seemed a shame for you to be out here all alone, eating by yourself," he said in a low, hoarse tone, pulling her closer.

  "You better not have come back just because of my turkey."

  He gave her the small present. "I want you to open this one first. It will explain everything."

  Her fingers shook as she tore into the glittering ribbon and then the green paper. Inside was a white cardboard box, and inside it, a smaller black velvet one. She snapped the inner box open instantly.

  A solitaire diamond engagement ring winked at her from black velvet.

  Her breath caught. She stared at the ring for a long moment, then looked back up at him.

  "Well?" he whispered. "Do you like it?"

  Gingerly she touched it, tracing the finely cut stone, the gleaming band with her fingertip. Her gaze blurred. "It's beautiful, Grant. The most beautiful ring in all the world."

  "For the most beautiful woman."

  "But are you sure?"

  He smiled down at her. "I love you, Norie. Marry me."

  She ought to tell him. About Darius. Now.

  But she was too dazzled by Grant's words, by the tenderness shining in his eyes. So she just stood quietly and let him slide the ring onto her finger and twist it so they could both watch it catch the light and shimmer.

  "There, it's a perfect fit," he said, pleased.

  "Grant, I'm not the right kind of woman… "

  "Hush." His hands were in her black silky hair. He pressed her face against his chest and smoothed her hair. Softly he said, "You're so beautiful, Norie. The whole time I was gone, every day, every hour, I was thinking of you."

  "So was I."

  "I nearly picked up the phone to call you a thousand times. But I knew what you'd say. I needed you so much. I felt so hopeless, so lost."

  "So did I."

  "No more, gypsy girl."

  "What about Georgia?"

  "She will accept you. I swear to you she will."

  Then he lifted Norie's face toward his, and he bent slightly to cover her lips with his. He kissed her ever so gently. She moaned and raised her arms to encircle his neck. Her heart had begun to thump erratically. Waves of desire pulsed through her, and she knew she had to stop him.

  Finally she got the words out. "Grant, there's something terribly important I have to tell you."

  "What could be that important?" His hand cupped her chin and he lifted her face again so he could resume kissing her. "More important than this?"

  Their lips met. His tongue dipped into her mouth again just as the front door flew open with a bang. Norie scarcely heard the eager footsteps as her child ran inside, the door slamming behind him. She was too aware of Grant tensing in surprise.

  "Mom! Hey, Mom, I'm home!"

  Suddenly Darius stopped and stared in disbelief at the vision of his mother in a man's arms, the two of them framed in the doorway with the lights of the Christmas tree twinkling behind them.

  Norie withdrew slowly. Still holding her hand, Grant stepped back a single step to stare at the diminutive replica of himself.

  Darius was still in his "church clothes," but just barely. His shirttails were wrinkled and hung loosely out of his slacks, his tie was crooked, and his shoelaces were dragging. Norie was sure that in all his life, Darius had never stood so absolutely still for so long without being told to. His blue eyes were open wide with wonder.

  "Santa is awesome!" Darius shouted in his outdoor voice, using his idol, Ray Liska's, favorite word. Then Darius ran happily toward them, never doubting for a moment that he would be a welcome addition in the big man's arms.

  Grant knelt slowly to the child's level.

  "Santa really did bring me a daddy." Darius let out a big sigh. Then he touched Grant's sapphire tie tack. "You are real! Boy! You even look a little like me."

  "What's your name, son?"

  "It's Darius."

  "Darius?" Grant looked up at Norie. His face was dark, unreadable.

  "Hey, can you play football?"

  "I played in high school," Grant told him almost absently.

  "Awesome."

  Darius didn't usually hug people he'd just met. But he made an exception with Grant and laid his cheek against Grant's trustingly just for a second before pulling himself free and dashing eagerly toward the kitchen.

  "Hey, come on. I gotta lot of things upstairs I want to show you."

  Grant stood up slowly. As Darius dashed up the stairs, Norie's soulful eyes sought Grant's and silently pleaded with him to understand. But he looked past her, his expression closed and hard. Without a word he left
the room and followed Darius.

  Norie stayed downstairs, her heart filled with an agony of doubt and regret. She could hear their voices-Grant's deep baritone mingling with Darius's overly excited shouts.

  Why was her life always like this? Just when she was sure she loved Grant, she'd ruined everything. She wouldn't blame him if he hated her.

  An hour passed before Grant came down again. Norie was in the kitchen, sitting silently at the table. The tea she had made for herself had gone cold while she'd waited nervously, hopelessly.

  He sank down heavily across from her, his jaw rigid, his eyes dark. "That kid's got energy. He was so excited, I had to bribe him to get him down for the night."

  "We have to talk," Noreen said.

  "That's the understatement of the year."

  "Grant, I was going to tell you."

  "When? Did you ever stop to think what the past five years have been like for me? I cared about you. After Larry died, I wanted to help you. I would have done anything in the world to try to make you happy. But what were your feelings for me? My only brother died. Knowing where you were, knowing about Darius would have meant everything to me. Not only to me. But to Mother. Larry was her favorite child. I was very little comfort to her."

  "I want to explain."

  "It's too late for that. I'm going."

  "Grant, no."

  He looked up. "Don't you understand? I believed in you. I believed that deep down you cared something for us, for me. You think the Hales rejected you. Honey, by keeping Darius from us, you rejected us. The one thing I never expected from you was dishonesty of this magnitude."

  "I wanted to tell you," she said softly, each word carefully enunciated. "I almost did, the day of Larry's funeral. But then I heard all the Hales talking, and I thought you felt the same way."

  "Norie, none of it matters anymore. You're free of me and the Hales. If you're so afraid of us, you don't need to be anymore." Slowly he got up. "I'm going. I won't tell Mother. Be happy. You're finally really, truly free of us all."

  Norie went to him and put her arms around him. "But you know that's not what I want anymore." She was speaking rapidly, desperately.

  At her touch, everything in him went as still as death. He released her gradually, slowly pushing her away, all the time staring into the shadowy depths of her eyes.

  "Grant, please-" Her lips barely moved as she whispered.

  But he wouldn't let her finish.

  "Tell Darius… Tell him, Merry Christmas from me tomorrow, will you? Tell him… maybe next Christmas Santa will do the job right, and he'll get a daddy who'll teach him how to play football. I'm not the right guy."

  Then without speaking to her again, Grant turned and strode out of the house, letting the door close behind him on a whisper of icy air.

  Tears pooled in Norie's eyes, but she didn't chase after Grant. He had decided to go, and no matter how much she wanted him to stay, she knew that no amount of pleading could persuade him.

  The house seemed frigid and empty, as frigid and empty as her own heart.

  She heard a slight sound on the stairs, and knew that Darius had not gone to bed after all. He came into the kitchen, his eyes as big and sad as hers. He was dragging his favorite red teddy bear.

  "Where's Grant?"

  "I don't know."

  "Will he come back?"

  "I don't know that, either," she admitted.

  "But he's my special present from Santa."

  She took him into her arms and ruffled his black hair. "Mine, too, darling," she murmured softly.

  "Mine, too. But he's your uncle, and you'll see him from time to time."

  Darius sat on her lap and sucked his thumb.

  "You're a big boy now, Darius. Big boys don't suck their thumbs."

  He pulled his thumb out reluctantly. His face was very serious. "I didn't ask for an uncle. I asked for a daddy."

  "Well, it isn't Christmas yet. Maybe, just maybe, Santa realized he'd delivered our special present too early. Go back to bed. Santa doesn't come until little boys are asleep."

  "Do you really think he'll send Grant back?"

  "Maybe, if we both pray very hard."

  "Mom, do you really believe in magic?"

  Behind them the Christmas tree lights were softly aglow. Grant's ring was still on her finger. His other gifts were still under the tree. Her gaze stole to the manger scene that she and Darius had built together, to the tiny figure of the baby Jesus.

  "Yes, in a way," she replied gently. "You see, when it's Christmas, I believe in miracles."

  Chapter Eight

  Norie sat up in bed, her heart beating expectantly, not knowing what it was that had awakened her.

  And then she knew.

  It was Christmas Day.

  She fell back against her soft cool pillow in a daze of happiness.

  Her bedroom was cozily warm. Someone had come in earlier and lit the space heater. From the kitchen wafted the aroma of coffee and bacon and biscuits. A man's deep husky voice was accompanying a radio that was playing "Joy to the World."

  Grant had come back to her as she and Darius had prayed he would.

  She listened to Grant sing with her eyes closed, his baritone washing over her, caressing her.

  At last she got up, pulled on her robe and stumbled barefoot across the cold floors into the kitchen.

  "Grant?" His name was a broken cry across her lips.

  His dark gaze smoldered with love for her.

  "I thought it was you," she managed to utter dreamily. Then she was flying across the kitchen into his arms. "You did come back."

  Tenderly, he enfolded her into his strong arms and lowered his black head to the long pale curve of her beautiful neck. She felt his hands smoothing the snarls from her sleep-tangled, silken curls.

  "I had no choice. I know from experience that life without you holds nothing but emptiness. I love you, gypsy girl. I always have and I always will."

  "Enough to forgive me?"

  His dark eyes moved over her face, and his expression grew momentarily soft. "There's nothing to forgive."

  "Last night I was afraid you despised me."

  "I was angry. But after I calmed down, I understood why you did what you did."

  "I should have told you about Darius years ago. Instead I ran away."

  "We drove you away," he said gravely.

  "After Larry died and I heard your family saying they didn't want me, I felt completely alone. The only thing I had was my unborn child. When Mike Yanta called and offered me this job, I took it. I came here and made a life for myself, but because I never resolved my conflict with you and your family, there was always something incomplete in my life. You see, I wanted to belong to your family, to be a real Hale, for Darius's sake as well as my own. I knew I was keeping your mother's only grandchild from her. But I was afraid of her, afraid that she might try to dominate my child the way she had dominated Larry. I was afraid she might use her money to alienate Darius from me. But I couldn't forget you, Grant. No matter how hard I tried."

  "Mother won't use her money like that again. She knows she made a terrible mistake." Grant's tone grew gentler, lower. "But I was as guilty as she. From the first, I was insensitive to you. To the person you really were. I hurt you. I promise I'll be more careful in the future."

  "Oh, Grant… " She could scarcely speak. "My values were so wrong. I was so mixed-up about the power of money that I attached more importance to it than I should have. I should have believed in you, in myself." She winced as she thought of all the hurt she had caused everyone. "I'm always going to wonder what would have happened if I'd been stronger and hadn't run away in the first place."

  Grant took her anguished face between his hands and tilted it back. "That's something we'll never know. Maybe we needed these years so we'd know how much we nearly lost."

  "And how much we really love each other." She had never dreamed that he loved her so much, that money and its powers no longer could seem frigh
tening.

  She pulled away a little from him then, smiling up at him, but he drew her back and kissed her. His hand wrapped around the back of her shoulders. His hard mouth slanted over hers in fierce possession.

  A long time later they pulled apart, breathless.

  "Darling," he murmured. "How do you think Darius would feel about Santa bringing him a grandmother and a grandfather for Christmas as well as a daddy? You can say no… "

  She smiled up at him mistily and placed two fingertips over his mouth. "Hush… I don't want to say no. I want you to call them and invite both of them for Christmas dinner. It's a little late, I know. Georgia usually has so many invitations. They'll have to drive fifty miles."

  "They'll come."

  Grant sought her lips again. Then he rained hot urgent, kisses over her forehead, her brow, her throat, before stopping to cradle her face in his hands and peer into her eyes.

  "It looks like Santa brought all of us a lot more than Darius asked for." Grant kept holding her. "If I didn't know better, I'd say today is the next best thing to a miracle."

  "Santa's special miracle," she breathed.

  "And mine," Grant said. His dark face grew solemn. "Darling, I-I have a confession to make." For the first time his confidence seemed to desert him.

  "If it's about other women… don't… "

  "It's even worse than that."

  Her black brows arched quizzically.

  "It was because of me, that the phone went dead that morning. I tampered with it that night, you see. I had to have you by fair means or foul."

  For a long moment, she stared at him in stunned surprise. Then her expression grew radiant. "I guess you were just helping Santa work his miracle."

  "I love you," he whispered.

  She took his hand and squeezed it. "Let's go upstairs and tell Darius."

  The kitchen door by the stairway banged against the wall. "I'm right here, Mom!" Darius shouted exuberantly right before he burst into the room dragging his blanket and his teddy.

  Norie put her fingers to her lips.

  "I know, Mom. My outdoor voice… " In a softer, more tentative tone, the child whispered, "Right here… Dad."