Daddy Christmas

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “So what do you think?” Matt asked as the two of them got out of her car and she had her first glimpse of his home.

  Gretchen caught her breath. “It’s lovely,” she said. And far more beautiful than she had imagined. The slate gray Cape Cod with white trim was nestled among a dozen live oaks and surrounded by evergreen shrubbery. The large two-story home was exactly the kind of place she had once dreamed of settling into with Robert. But that had never happened. And now, here she was with Matt. It was funny how life turned out sometimes.

  “How big is it?” She paused beside the trunk of her car.

  “Four thousand square feet. And don’t try to lift those boxes. I’ve got them.”

  Gretchen shook her head, knowing that one box in particular weighed no more than a basket of clean laundry. “Matt, I’m not an invalid.” She didn’t want to be treated like one.

  Matt’s look was autocratic. “You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be lifting.”

  “Heavy objects, no. But things like groceries are fine.”

  Gretchen could tell he was about to argue. She wondered if he was going to be this protective about everything she did. If so, it would be a long eight months until the baby arrived. Gretchen folded her arms in front of her obstinately. “If you don’t believe me, ask Marissa. She’s my obstetrician.”

  Matt grinned ruefully and rubbed his jaw. “I know the drill. I’ve been through this three times already, remember? As far as any lifting goes, if I’m around I’ll do it. Period.” He sent her a look of mock sternness. “Got it?”

  Gretchen could see a precedent was being set. “Matt—”

  He cut her off with a deliberate shake of his head. “No arguing, Gretchen, not about this.” He laced a protective arm about her shoulders. “Now c’mon. I want to show you the inside of the house.”

  Gretchen pretended to pout at the ultimatum he had just handed down, but secretly, it felt nice to be fussed over. No one had done that for her in a very long time.

  Matt punched in the security code and let her in. Gretchen was stunned to realize the interior of the home was even more pristinely beautiful and well kept than the exterior. In the kitchen, state-of-the-art appliances gleamed. A side-by-side refrigerator dispensed ice, water and juice. A Jenn-Air grill, microwave, double oven and chef’s stove made cooking for a crowd and entertaining easy.

  “The laundry room and guest bath are that way.” Matt pointed to the right.

  “And my den is in here.”

  Matt led her into a beautifully appointed room with a fieldstone fireplace, oak paneling and saddle-brown leather furniture.

  “I do a lot of work here, too,” he said, gesturing at the computer, fax, two-line phone, copier and built-in wooden file cabinets.

  “It’s very nice,” Gretchen said, impressed. Definitely a man’s domain. She could see Matt working in here in the evenings, maybe on weekends. She could see herself peeking in, maybe joining him occasionally if he asked.

  “In here is the dining room—”

  With a beautiful chandelier, a hutch full of china and a polished mahogany table that sat eight, it looked cozy and just right for family gatherings, Gretchen thought.

  “The family room...” Matt continued.

  Furnished with two denim-and-white-plaid sofas, a VCR, television and stereo, the room appeared quite comfortable.

  “Which as you can see overlooks the fenced-in backyard. And the formal living room.”

  Done all in white, it was very elegant, but not exactly baby-proof, Gretchen worried. Was Matt really as ready to change his life as he thought?

  “And now for the second story.” A hand to her spine, Matt led the way upstairs. “To the left is the master bedroom and bath. My room.”

  Gretchen peeked in. The room was done in a dark pine green. A fireplace was at one end of the room; opposite it stood a huge four-poster with a luxurious green-and-burgundy plaid comforter. An armoire held a television, VCR and stereo. The dormer windows had dark brown plantation shutters in lieu of blinds or drapes. The adjacent green-and-black ceramic-tiled bath featured a separate black marble shower and whirlpool tub, a dressing area with his and her sinks and two walk-in closets. Like the rest of the house, it was clean and neat. It didn’t look like Matt Hale wanted for anything. That being the case, she wondered what he really thought of her small efficiency unit.

  Taking her hand, he led her back down the hall, past the three other bedrooms. “Angela’s room is here...”

  It was pink and utterly chaotic in decor and arrangement. “Luke’s is here...”

  Gretchen caught a glimpse of rock posters, lacrosse sticks and an unmade bed.

  “Sassy’s in here...”

  The room was mint green and filled with books, with no remnants of the childhood Sassy had recently left behind.

  “And last but not least is the guest room.” Matt guided Gretchen inside. The pale yellow room was half the size of her apartment, with barely room for a double bed and desk. Opposite the closet was a dormer window with a cozy padded window seat in the same yellow-and-white dotted swiss as the bedspread and curtains.

  Gretchen swung around to face him. “The kids are all at school, aren’t they?”

  Matt folded his arms in front of him and rocked back on his heels. “Right.”

  Deciding she had looked into his warm silver eyes long enough, Gretchen turned away. “So it’ll be just the two of us living here?” she asked, aware her senses were suddenly in overdrive once again.

  Matt followed her around the room. “Except for holidays and maybe summer vacation.”

  As Gretchen drifted toward the window, she slid her hands in her pockets and tried not to remember the magical night they’d shared together in the honeymoon suite. It would be assuming a lot to think that they could share that kind of passion every night. With familiarity, and the progression of her pregnancy, the wild desire they felt for each other was bound to fade. The trick to handling that would be in not letting the normal course of events get to her. Therefore, she needed to brace herself for the inevitable now.

  Gretchen looked out at the backyard, then at the room around her, before turning back to Matt, her expression much more stoic. “Is this where I’ll be sleeping?”

  It was as far away as you could get from the master bedroom. Would they be cordoning off the rest of the house, too, into his and her areas?

  He paused thoughtfully a moment, his eyes darkening, before he offered genially, “Unless you’d like the master bedroom, which is bigger.”

  Gretchen didn’t want to kick him out of his room. He had made enough sacrifices for her and their baby as it was.

  “In which case,” Matt continued, “I’d be glad to trade or whatever—”

  “No. This is fine,” Gretchen said quickly. “I like small spaces.” And I think I need my own space. I need to figure out what’s happening here, what I want to happen.

  “Sure?” Matt persisted, grinning seductively. “You could bunk in with me, you know.”

  He was taking this all so casually. Gretchen hauled in a shaky breath, knowing, even if Matt didn’t, that they were headed for the danger zone.

  “Thanks, but don’t you think things are getting complicated enough as it is?” she asked lightly, ignoring the sudden rapid beating of her heart.

  He regarded her, his face expressionless. Then he shrugged as if it were no big deal to him either way. “Tell you what. Why don’t we play it by ear?” he suggested amiably. “For now, you’re here and I’m there, and that’s that. Okay?”

  Gretchen backed up to the window seat, and because her legs suddenly felt a little wobbly, she sat down. “Okay.” This was the sensible way to go, after all. So why did she suddenly feel so disappointed?

  He flexed his shoulders restlessly. “You probably want to unpack....”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll go down and get your stuff and bring it up.”

  “Thanks,” Gretchen said softly, then watched him go. Once
again, she had no clue what he was really thinking or feeling. She wondered if she ever would.

  * * *

  SO MUCH FOR being gallant, Matt thought as he hauled the last of Gretchen’s things from the car and carted them, one on top of the other, up the front walk and into the house. He should have just told Gretchen what he wanted here, which was her, in his bed, cuddled up beside him every night. But he hadn’t and he wouldn’t. He had promised her he wouldn’t push her, that this would be a marriage in name only, for their child’s sake. He had promised her she didn’t have to stay married to him if things weren’t working out by the time the baby was born, and it was a promise he would keep, although he was already regretting that, too.

  If he’d been smart, he would have said theirs should be a real marriage from the first. But if he had, would she have said yes to his proposal? Somehow, Matt thought with a sigh as he headed upstairs with her belongings, he doubted it.

  He would just have to make the best of things, Matt decided as he strode back to the guest room.

  * * *

  THE FIRST WAVE of nausea hit Gretchen by surprise. When the second came, she knew she was going to be sick. It was just a matter of when. Heaven help her, it would not be in front of Matt, on her first afternoon in his home, on their first full day of married life.

  Heavy footsteps thudded down the hall. Gretchen ignored the sweat trickling down the back of her neck and the shifting of the breakfast in her stomach, and plastered a smile on her face just as Matt walked in, carrying two of the boxes, stacked one on top of each other. “Where do you want these?” he asked cheerfully.

  Gretchen pointed to the bed. “There would be fine.” She had to get rid of him. Somehow.

  “I’ll get the last one,” he said, just as the phone rang. Turning on his heel, he added, “I hope that’s not Luke with a flat. I told him to check the air in his tires before he left to go back to Texas A & M but I don’t think he did.”

  He strode back to his bedroom. While he was talking at the other end of the hall, Gretchen went to her purse and pulled out a small packet of saltine crackers. She munched on one, determinedly willing the nausea away.

  She felt a little better by the time Matt returned. He was carrying the third box. His expression was grim. “What was it?” she asked. Not one of his kids, she hoped.

  “That was my foreman on the Lubbock drilling site,” Matt related with a scowl as he set the box down beside the others.

  Gretchen swallowed as another wave of nausea rolled through her. “Problem?” she asked, aware her knees were beginning to tremble again.

  Oblivious to how close she was to getting sick, Matt nodded. “The property owner wants them to stop drilling as of this evening if they don’t strike oil this afternoon.”

  She edged back to the window seat and eased onto it. Maybe if she sat down and held very, very still it would help. “Do you think they will?” she asked.

  “Yes, but not necessarily by this evening.” He swore and jammed his hands on his waist. Looking past her, he stared grimly out the window. “We’ve spent a lot of time and money on that site. I’d hate to see it all be for naught.”

  Again Gretchen tried to will the nausea away. “What are you going to do?”

  “Go out and talk to the owner, I guess.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tonight.” He paused, his eyes softening as they connected with hers once again. “I’m sorry, Gretchen,” he said contritely, before his mouth firmed up decisively again. “But this is my business and I’ve got to handle this.”

  Gretchen resisted the urge to blot at the clammy sweat breaking out on her chest. Just a few more minutes...then she could throw up in peace, if need be. She swallowed carefully and continued to hold very still. “No problem.”

  “You’re sure?” Matt peered at her, beginning to realize something was wrong. “I mean, you just got here.”

  “I understand, Matt.” Determined to get through this without embarrassing herself in front of him, Gretchen drew a deep breath and stood. “If you want me to pack a bag for you or call the airlines...” Anything to get him out of there faster.

  But Matt was already shaking his head, letting her know it wasn’t necessary. “I’m already packed. I always keep a bag ready so I can leave on a moment’s notice. I’m booked on the next Southwest Airlines flight to Lubbock. It leaves in forty minutes, so I’m really going to have to run.” He scribbled a number on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “This is where I’ll be. You can reach me there day or night.”

  “Great.” Gretchen’s stomach heaved as she placed the number on the table beside her bed. The cracker she had just eaten began to come back up.

  “Here’s your key to the house.” He placed it in her palm.

  “You better go, Matt.” Still holding the key, Gretchen practically pushed him toward the door.

  “All right.” Matt strode down the hall and grabbed the carryon from his room. “I’ll call.”

  “Do that,” Gretchen said brightly, following him down the stairs to the front door, as her stomach roiled again. Get a grip on yourself, Gretchen. You can handle this—it’s only morning sickness.

  Matt paused on the front step and gently touched her hair. He gazed down at her affectionately. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Gretchen nodded. “Just go, Matt,” she said tightly, knowing she couldn’t hang on much longer.

  “Right.”

  Obviously realizing how badly she wanted to get rid of him, looking a little hurt by her attitude, Matt walked over to his truck.

  “I’ll call,” he promised as he climbed behind the wheel.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Gretchen merely nodded slightly and lifted her hand in a wave. Five more seconds, four, three... The moment he was out the driveway, she shut the door and ran for the guest bath.

  What a disaster her first full day of married life was turning out to be.

  Chapter Seven

  February

  “So how long has Matt been gone?” Marissa Stewart asked, as she palpated Gretchen’s abdomen, checking the size and position of the baby.

  “Two weeks now.” Though it seems like forever, Gretchen thought, as she stared at the ceiling above the examining table in Marissa’s office. Maybe it was the flood of hormones associated with pregnancy, but she couldn’t ever recall feeling more sad and depressed.

  “And he hasn’t been back since?” Finished with her exam, Marissa helped Gretchen to a sitting position.

  Gretchen sighed as she rearranged her clothing. Her first obstetrical visit had required a full physical and gynecological exam. Her second was much easier. She didn’t even have to get all the way undressed.

  “First there were problems with the owner, then the well, then the oil came in in a much bigger gusher than anyone had expected, and suddenly other landowners in the area were all clamoring to get Matt to drill on their property. Evidently he’s been very busy, doing geological surveys and writing drilling contracts.” Busy and happy.

  “And what about you?” Marissa asked.

  Gretchen shrugged as she struggled to keep her emotions under wraps. “I’ve been busy, too.”

  “I mean, how do you feel about Matt being gone so much?” Marissa persisted, more best friend now than physician.

  “I should be relieved,” Gretchen said cautiously.

  “But you’re not,” Marissa guessed as Gretchen hopped off the examining table. She led the way into her private office so the two could talk more comfortably.

  “I’ve already had one marriage where my husband was always running out the door away from me.” Gretchen sank down in a chair and stretched her blue-jeaned legs out in front of her in tomboy fashion. “This has made me realize I really don’t want another.”

  Marissa made another note on the chart. “Matt isn’t Robert, Gretchen. He won’t walk out on you or play around with another woman.”

  But he doesn’t love me, either, Gretchen tho
ught. Not the way a husband should. Not the way I want him to.

  “It’s also unusual for him to be out of town for such a long stretch of time,” Marissa continued.

  Perhaps he finds it more comfortable being away from me, Gretchen thought. “So he said,” she replied lightly. She nodded at the chart Marissa held in front of her. “So, how am I doing? Everything okay with the baby?”

  Marissa smiled and folded her hands in front of her. “Everything’s great. Your blood count is good, urine fine, weight unchanged, which isn’t surprising, since you’re only seven weeks along. Have you been having any problems with morning sickness?”

  Gretchen nodded. “It comes and goes.”

  “Do crackers help?”

  “Sometimes. Other times nothing does. I just have to lie down and close my eyes and feel like I’ve died, until the nausea passes.”

  “Well, take heart,” Marissa soothed. “It usually goes away after the first trimester.”

  Gretchen rolled her eyes. “I’ll try to remember that the next time I’ve got my head in the toilet.”

  Marissa chuckled. “Bought any maternity clothes yet?”

  “No. And I don’t need them yet, either.”

  Gretchen wanted this baby, but she wasn’t anxious to have her body bloated and out of shape, to be in a condition where Matt would no longer desire her. Not that that even mattered if he was going to continue being out of town so much.

  Marissa grinned. “Well, let me know when you’re ready to switch to maternity wear. We’ll coordinate our schedules and I’ll go shopping with you.”

  * * *

  GRETCHEN’S HEART skipped a beat when she saw Matt’s truck parked in front of the house. He was home again, after an absence of two and a half weeks. He looked good, too. As though he were in an exuberant mood and very glad to be home.

  He was also out the door and striding toward her before she was even out of the car.

  “I was wondering when you’d get back,” he drawled. That way he had of speaking set her pulse to racing, as she stood, hauling the backpack full of books and notes out of the car.