Holiday Confessions

by Anne Marie Winston

  At Devil’s Den, he insisted they climb among the rocks. They left Feather in the SUV, but Lynne was surprised at how well Cedar maneuvered Brendan through the wild tumble of boulders to the small summit. “What direction am I facing?” he asked her. “It feels like north or northeast.”

  She had to think for a moment, squinting at the late-autumn sun. “It is. How did you know that?”

  “The sun’s on my face.” He took her by the shoulder and turned her to face slightly to the east as he began to explain troop movements and attacks that determined the outcome of the battle. “The bottom line,” he said, “is that if the Union had lost Little Round Top, the Confederates could have taken Gettysburg. In fact, given General Lee’s superb leadership and the lack of any really strong, decisive Union general, it’s quite likely. The whole outcome of the war might have been different. For that matter, if Lee had accepted Lincoln’s request to lead the Union army, I sincerely doubt there’d even have been a war still occurring in 1863.”

  His face was animated, the sun lighting his blue eyes to an intense hue. She openly examined his face, wanting to touch him as he’d touched her earlier that day. Wanting more than that. She was supremely conscious of his arm, which had slid from her shoulder down her back and now curved loosely around her waist. Even through her clothing, she could feel his big hand on her.

  “Lynne?” Brendan’s voice was amused. “God, I’m sorry. Was I that boring?”

  “No!” she said hastily, jarred from her sensual preoccupation by his assumption. “You’re not boring at all. I was just trying to…to visualize it.”

  “And did you succeed?” He’d turned to face her, far closer than a sighted man would normally come into her personal space, and she watched as his lips formed the words.

  “Sort of.” She sounded silly and breathless, even to herself. “I guess we’d better get down from here and keep going.”

  “I guess.”

  Was that regret in his voice? She wondered, as she picked a careful path down through the rocks for the man and dog, if he had any idea how interested in him she was. It was silly to be so obsessed with a man. The more she was with him, the more she wanted to be with him.

  They spent nearly five hours on the battlefield, and she could have spent five more. She’d anticipated missing lunch and had packed apples and ham sandwiches, which they stopped and ate while sitting on the tailgate of the SUV. As the sun began to sink toward the surrounding mountains in earnest, she turned the vehicle toward home.

  “Thank you,” she said when they had climbed the stairs to their floor. She stopped in the center of the hallway, midway between their doors. “That was absolutely fascinating.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said. “Some people couldn’t care less about the history of the area.”

  “I can’t imagine how a person could fail to find it interesting,” she said. “Next time, instead of using the tape, I’ll just listen to you the whole way.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to sink right through the floor. He hadn’t indicated in any way that he wanted to spend more time in her company.

  Brendan smiled, though. “It’s a deal.” His watch announced the time, something she was beginning to get used to. “I’d better get going. I have dinner plans tonight.”

  “All right.” Dinner plans. Was he subtly telling her to back off? “I need to get going, too. I—”

  “Lynne.” He stopped her with a finger raised to her lips. “Thanks.” He captured her other hand and raised it to his lips.

  Wow. If he’d been trying, he couldn’t have done anything more guaranteed to melt her into a little puddle of need. She was a total sucker for a man who kissed her hand.

  She didn’t say anything as his warm lips firmly caressed the back of her hand; she couldn’t.

  Brendan stepped back and released her. “I’ll see you.” Then he shook his head as he grinned wryly. “Figuratively speaking.”

  It was only because she couldn’t sleep that she heard him come in just before midnight that evening. Pure accident, she told herself, that she’d gotten a cup of tea and decided to sit in her living room and work a Japanese number puzzle until she got sleepy. And she didn’t see him at all on Sunday, although she once heard him leave and later return to his apartment in the afternoon when she’d returned from church. She didn’t see him Monday, either.

  But Tuesday morning her telephone rang almost before she was out of bed. She stopped in the middle of her Pilates and punched the button on the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Lynne, it’s Brendan.” She already knew that from the Caller ID on her phone. “I was wondering whether you’d be interested in having Feather anytime this week?”

  “I’d love to. It’s been weird and quiet around here after getting used to having a dog in the apartment.”

  “I know the feeling. I had to take Feather to the vet once and leave her overnight. It wasn’t fun being without my partner, but it was a lot more than that. It was like being away from a member of my family. I hated it.” He paused. “Well, I have to run. Bad week. I’ll drop her off in a minute.”

  He was as good as his word. She’d barely had time to wipe her face with a towel when her doorbell rang.

  “Hey,” she said as she pulled open the door.

  “Hey.” He smiled. “Thanks a million. I tried leaving her again yesterday and she was in major mope mode last night.”

  “She’s welcome to stay all week if you like.”

  To her surprise he nodded. “I would really appreciate that, if you’re sure. I hate leaving her alone all day except for one brief pit stop at lunch.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Great! Here’s more dog food. Gotta run. Call me if you have any questions or problems.” He’d given her his card with his contact information on it days earlier.

  “We won’t. Have a good…day.” But she was talking to his back as he gave Cedar a command and the two moved off toward the stairs.

  Hmm. He must not be kidding about being busy.

  She attended a meeting of the library’s community support group Tuesday evening and promptly got shanghaied into being the treasurer, since the woman who’d been doing the job had just had an accident.

  “It’s temporary,” the president had assured her.

  But the vice president had winked. “That’s what they told me ten years ago.”

  Feather was thrilled to see her when she returned, though she’d only been gone a shade more than an hour. She was a little surprised that Brendan didn’t call to check on his dog, but she assumed it had just been one of those days.

  Wednesday morning, she did her exercise routine in the house, then went for a run out Taneytown Road, which took her past the Park Service’s Visitor Center and out through the southern end of the battlefield. Over the three days of combat in July, 1863, Brendan had told her, there had been clashes, conflicts and the final large-scale confrontation nearly all the way around the tiny town. Gettysburg had, at that time, been a significant crossroad, with five distinct highways leading into and through it. All but one were surrounded by or ran very close to some part of the battlefield.

  Route 15 lay not far ahead of her, according to a sign. Better turn around. She had also seen a sign for the Boyd’s Bear factory and an outlet mall, and she knew both of those were farther than she wanted to go on foot.

  As she returned, she slowed and walked the last block to cool down. Once in her apartment, she headed for the shower and the scale. It was still habit to keep a close eye on her weight; although, these days she had the opposite problem from the one she’d struggled with while she was modeling. Now she had to be careful to eat enough to maintain the healthier weight she’d found when she’d decided to end her career.

  And Brendan thought she was slender now. If he’d known her then…!

  He called as she was getting lunch, but he sounded rushed, and when she assured him Feather was fine, he thanked her and t
he conversation ended quickly. Thursday and Friday, the same pattern repeated, and by Friday evening she was feeling the smallest sting of disappointment. He hadn’t come home by seven, and she decided he must intend for her to keep Feather until Saturday. Then she heard his footsteps in the hall.

  She leaped to her feet from the sofa where she’d been curled up reading a book. Feather, lying beside her, looked alert but didn’t rise.

  And a moment later, while she was hovering in the middle of the room, wondering what she’d say when she opened the door, she heard his door open.

  And shut.

  Well. It appeared that he wasn’t all that anxious to see Feather, much less her.

  He never said anything about seeing you.

  That was true. But they’d had such a good time together last Saturday. She hadn’t imagined the chemistry between them, had she?

  Annoyed with herself, she went into the kitchen and spread out the financial records from the Friends of the Library. They had assured her that being the group’s treasurer was no big deal, but if she had to authorize payments for a non-profit organization, she intended to thoroughly understand what she was doing.

  Five

  Brendan called on Saturday morning while she was stretching in preparation for another run. “Good morning,” he said. “I bet you thought I had abandoned my dog.”

  “Not at all. You said you had a busy week.” Which he had. She just hadn’t expected him to drop off the face of the earth for five days.

  “I’m preparing for a trial,” he said. “And I’ve barely had time to eat.”

  There was a brief pause. She mentally ran through several responses, but before she could figure out what to say next, the silence had stretched uncomfortably.

  “Do you have plans for today?” He didn’t sound as if he thought her silence was weird.

  “No,” she said. “Other than going for a run this morning. I thought I might visit the Boyd’s Bears factory this afternoon. Teddy bear collecting isn’t really my style, but I’m beginning to think about Christmas, and my niece would love one.”

  “Christmas.” He groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

  “One of those what?” She could hear the teasing tone in his voice.

  “One of those organized people who spends December walking around looking smug while the rest of us try frantically to finish our shopping.”

  “Guilty,” she said. “There’s nothing I despise more than shopping in heavy crowds.”

  “I agree. It’s tough enough maneuvering through tight aisles with a dog in harness. Trying to do it during the Christmas rush is impossible. But that’s not why I called.”

  “I didn’t think it was.” A bubble of happiness at simply hearing his voice rose inside her and she laughed lightly. “Let me guess. You want your dog back?”

  “No,” he said. “Well, I do, but that’s not why I called, either. Would you like to go out for dinner with me tonight?”

  A date? Was he asked her out on a date? Completely caught off guard, she didn’t answer him immediately.

  “Lynne?” She thought there was a note of uncertainty in his normally self-assured tone. “I know it’s probably too short notice for you—”

  “I’d love to have dinner with you tonight,” she said hastily. “Did you have any particular place in mind?”

  “The Dobbin House. It’s a local restaurant that serves nineteenth-century meals in a period atmosphere.”

  “I’ve seen the advertisements for it and thought it would be nice to try. Do you go there frequently?”

  “No.” His voice altered subtly, a sober note creeping in. “Not often.”

  What was that about? The mood had very definitely changed. “What time shall I be ready?” She didn’t want him to change his mind.

  “How about six-thirty?”

  “Six-thirty it is. I’ll look forward to it.”

  “So will I. I missed seeing you this week.” The warmth was back in his tone, and for a moment she wondered if she’d imagined the brief change. “See you then.”

  She hung up the phone and stood by it for a moment, then did a quick and silly dance around her kitchen. He’d been busy. And he said he’d missed her!

  The rest of the day crawled past. She washed her hair and then had a long, hot soak in the tub with her favorite bath beads late in the afternoon. She’d left herself plenty of time since her hair took a while to dry even using a dryer.

  What to wear had her in a quandary. It was interesting, dressing for a date with a blind man. If he touched her, she wanted him to find the feel of the fabric attractive, sort of like she’d take extra care with makeup if he could see her. As it was, she moisturized her skin and put on the barest trace of lip gloss. She’d come here to start a regular life and the less she looked like her former self, the less chance she had of being recognized.

  She should tell Brendan. Soon. He knew her well enough by now that her old life shouldn’t be an issue or a novelty like it might to someone she was just meeting. But she’d only known him a week and a half, she reminded herself. It wasn’t as if she were deliberately keeping a secret. There just hadn’t been a good opening yet.

  Finally it was six-thirty. Her doorbell rang promptly and she forced herself to walk—not skip or run—from the kitchen where she’d been standing waiting, instead of lurking just inside the door.

  “Hi,” she said as she pulled open the door.

  “Hi.” He was holding a large bouquet of roses in extraordinary shades of pink and peach and orange with some accompanying white blossoms mixed in, a sunrise in his free hand, and he extended the flowers to her. “These are for you.”

  “Brendan!” She was thoroughly flustered. “These are beautiful.”

  “Good. The woman at the flower shop described some different arrangements for me. This one sounded pretty.”

  “It’s absolutely stunning,” she assured him again. “Thank you.” They were still standing in the doorway, and she stepped back. “Please come in while I get a vase and put them in water.”

  She hurried into the kitchen and pulled a large crackle-glass vase from a cupboard. Running the stems of the roses under water, she quickly trimmed them and arranged the lovely flowers in the vase.

  Brendan had followed her into the kitchen. As she picked up the vase to carry it into the living room and place it on the narrow sofa table against one wall, he said, “What are you wearing?”

  “Clothing or scent?”

  “Both.” He grinned. “You smell great and I just wondered what you’ve got on. Describe yourself for me.”

  “I’m not wearing any perfume. It must be whatever was in my bath beds. I think it was lily of the valley. Describe myself? Well, I’m tall.”

  “I already know that.” His tone was dry. “And thin.”

  “Slender,” she said severely. “My hair is long and really straight…” What else should she say?

  “What color is it?”

  “Blond. Very light, and my eyes are blue and my skin is quite fair when I don’t have any tan. Without makeup on, I’m practically invisible.”

  “Hard to imagine,” he murmured. “Go on.”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  “Hair—exactly how long is it when you wear it down.”

  “Years ago it was almost to my waist. Right now it’s just below my shoulders and I’m trying to continue to let it get longer.”

  “Sounds pretty.”

  It’s a lot prettier than that curly red was. She had a horrified moment when she wondered if she’d spoken aloud, but Brendan’s expression didn’t change, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I have big feet for a woman,” she offered.

  “Goes along with the height,” he said. “I have my shoes custom-made sometimes because it’s so hard to find size fourteens. Tell me about your face.”

  “My face? What about it?” She was mystified, and a little uncomfortable at being the focus of his attention in such a way. She
was used to having her physical features analyzed but she’d never been asked to do it herself before. She also was used to her body being noticed, but it had never affected her on a personal level like this.

  “What shape is it?”

  “Shape? I don’t know. Kind of long and thin, I guess. Oval, maybe?”

  “And I already know your cheekbones are high and you have a cute little cleft in your chin.”

  “Which I despise.”

  “Why? It’s sexy.”

  “At least I don’t have to shave it. That would be a real pain.”

  He laughed. “Now tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “A long skirt. And a silk shirt. I have a corduroy jacket lying on the back of the couch to wear tonight. I know it’s warm for November, but it’s not warm enough for one thin layer.”

  “Would you mind if I touched your clothing?”

  “No.” She took a fold of her skirt and guided it to his big hand.

  “Mmm.” He made an appreciative sound. “Feels like suede.”

  “No. I think it’s brushed polyester.”

  Then his hand slid up the fold of skirt she’d handed him. He skimmed lightly over her hip to her back, and rubbed a small circle on her blouse. “Wow,” he said. “Silky. Feels wonderful.”

  She didn’t have a quick answer for him. Her body had tightened in anticipation at the brush of his fingers, and she was practically quivering. Good heavens, the man was potent. If he could do that with nothing more than the touch of fingertips, what would it be like if—stop it, Lynne! Once again, she reminded herself that she wasn’t hunting a relationship. She’d had plenty of opportunities for that when she’d been modeling; not once had any man seriously appealed to her after Jeremy.

  Until now.

  Well, okay. So Brendan was gorgeous, too sexy to be allowed to walk around free, and more appealing to talk with than any man she could think of. It didn’t mean she was going to act on her interest. Of course not.