The Christmas Sisters

by Sarah Morgan

  She’d never seen him so unsure of himself. “I don’t want that.”

  What did she want? She had no idea.

  This was the perfect time to tell him she was pregnant.

  But how should she say it?

  She’d planned on doing some research on how best to tell a man he was going to be a father. In her head was a complicated playbook full of different alternatives. What she’d do if he freaked out, if he wanted nothing more to do with her, if he happened to think it was the best news ever—

  She hadn’t planned on him showing up here unannounced before she’d firmed up her strategy.

  “Don’t leave.” She’d take it a stage at a time. If he wasn’t leaving right away, then there was no hurry.

  “Are you sure?” He stood still, not taking a step toward her. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

  “I want you to stay.”

  This time he did step forward and he pulled her into his arms. He kissed her, hugged her tightly and then glanced around the room, his gaze settling on the Christmas tree. “This is a great room. I like the tree.”

  “That’s Eric,” Hannah said. “Posy named it. My sister names everything, from pigs to chickens to Christmas trees.”

  Adam tensed. “Eric? The tree is called Eric?”

  She nodded and he swore under his breath.

  “She told me you were doing fine because you had Eric. I thought—I assumed Eric was a man.”

  Hannah gaped at him. “That’s why you flew all the way here?”

  “It played a part.” There was a livid flush across his cheekbones. “Embarrassed though I am to admit it, I may have been a teeny bit jealous. Of a fir tree. If it’s all right with you, I’d rather that didn’t leave this room.”

  She couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. “Oh, Adam—”

  “Are you laughing at me? Because I can tell you I’ve had the most stressful flight of my life imagining you with this Eric. Your sister said he was the outdoor type, and I was imagining big shoulders and—” He broke off. “Is it going to damage our relationship if I kill your sister?”

  “Not at all. I was going to kill her myself. It’s the reason I came upstairs.”

  “I thought the reason you came upstairs was to escape from me.” He kissed her again. “Your sister was being protective, which I like, but I don’t much like the idea that I was the one she was protecting you from.”

  Hannah swallowed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Not from where I’m standing.” He pulled her against him. “Eric needs to know that I’ll fight him for you.”

  “As a matter of interest, what would you have done if he’d been a person?”

  “I don’t know. You’re assuming there was some logical thought behind my actions, but the truth is I went all Neanderthal and jumped on a plane.”

  “They didn’t have planes two hundred thousand years ago.”

  “I don’t think Neanderthals were called Eric, either. You have no idea how relieved I am not to find you sharing your room with a kilt-wearing, muscle-bound Highlander.” He brought his mouth down on hers and she felt the familiar kick of heat that only ever happened with him. Her body melted, pleasure sliding through her with delicious sweetness. Before she’d met Adam, she’d never known a kiss could be so intimate and yet the way he kissed her was so personal, so knowing, that it was almost as if he had a blueprint that showed him the location of all her nerve endings. He held her head, stoking sensation with the slow slide of his tongue and the gentle pressure of his fingers. She felt dizzy and disorientated, as if she’d drunk a glass of whiskey too fast or spun like one of the ballet dancers Melly loved to watch.

  Without lifting his mouth from hers, he backed her to the bed and tumbled her onto the mattress.

  Hannah gasped. When she was with him, she didn’t just lose her balance, she lost a part of herself. The part she relied on to keep herself safe. “We shouldn’t—I’m not sure—” When he was kissing her, she couldn’t hold the thought for long enough to finish the sentence. “It’s complicated.”

  “This part isn’t complicated.” His hands were in her hair, his mouth trailing over her jaw, her throat, her shoulder. With a smooth sense of purpose, he slid off her sweater and unbuttoned her shirt, giving himself access to bare skin. “This part isn’t complicated at all.”

  She tried to respond, but all she could manage was a faint murmur and he lifted his head, slowly, reluctantly, as if someone was dragging him away from her.

  He fixed her with his gaze, the thoroughly male assessment leaving her breathless. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Given what he was now doing with his hands, she didn’t consider that a fair question.

  He gave a slow smile and, as he stroked his way down her body, Hannah discovered that she definitely didn’t want him to stop. Nor did she want him to fly home or sleep in the pub.

  She wanted him to stay right here with her. She wanted it enough that she was prepared to expose their fragile relationship to the scrutiny of her family. She wanted it enough that she was prepared to deal with Suzanne’s expectations.

  In a tiny corner of her mind, buried under an excess of sensation and endorphins, was the knowledge that she still had to tell him she was pregnant.

  But not tonight.

  It had been a long day. An even longer evening.

  Hopefully it would also be a long night.

  There was plenty of time for that conversation.

  24

  Posy

  Refusing her mother’s offer of a nightcap, Posy stomped her way across to the barn, her feet crunching through fresh snow. It coated the trees, bending branches and muffling sound. It reflected the moonlight, removing all need for a torch.

  Normally the landscape soothed her, but tonight not even the crisp cold air or the soft smell of wood smoke drifting from the lodge could lift her spirits.

  She was still angry with Luke and humiliated, but her overwhelming emotion was one of misery. Not misery because of Luke. Misery because she’d upset Hannah. For the first time in ages, they’d shared confidences and laughter. She’d learned new things tonight. Things about their past relationship. Things about her sister. There had been a shift in the atmosphere and for a fleeting moment she’d felt a closeness that she couldn’t remember feeling before.

  But she’d killed it.

  Why had she opened her big mouth and suggested Adam come?

  On the other hand, she’d intended it as a joke. How was she to know he’d actually do it? She didn’t know many men that committed.

  Callum hadn’t bothered showing up for half their dates and he lived down the road. He never would have flown across the Atlantic.

  And as for Luke—

  Luke hadn’t told her the truth.

  What else was he hiding from her?

  Snow fell in spiraling lazy swirls, adding layer upon layer to the already-dense carpet on the ground. It was piled in fresh heaps around the barn and stretched up into the mountains. Above the peaks the moon hovered, beaming light down onto the slopes below.

  Posy might have admired it, but her vision was blurred.

  Tears scalded her eyes and she stopped walking for the simple reason that she couldn’t see where she was going.

  She blinked, scrubbed at her face with her gloved hand and breathed in the smell of home.

  Leaving this place didn’t feel like such a great idea anymore.

  Was that really what she wanted? Maybe not, and certainly not with someone who had lied to her. Her mind, which had been so sure, was now filled with nothing but doubt. Worse, she no longer trusted her own judgment.

  Was Beth right? Should she have checked him out in more detail? Was she ridiculously trusting to assume that people were who they said they were?

  Light glowed through the win
dows of the barn and she felt a flash of anger as she thought of Luke dropping a bomb into her family, and then guilt that she hadn’t even paused long enough to ask her mother what they’d talked about together and how she felt about it. Her own feelings were too big to leave room for anyone else’s. She’d wanted to run after Hannah and explain that it wasn’t her fault, but she knew her sister well enough to recognize when talk would be useless.

  Instead she’d stood in frozen politeness as Suzanne had invited Adam in, the warmth of her welcome a direct contrast to the chill emanating from her eldest daughter. Whiskey had been pressed into his hand and fresh logs added to the fire. Far from being upset, Suzanne had seemed unusually happy. Of course, that might have been because a tall, dark, handsome man had turned up on the doorstep looking for Hannah. Suzanne probably thought Christmas had come early.

  Posy stamped her way up the steps that led to the hayloft.

  It was going to be another one of those family Christmases that was filled with tension.

  What have you done?

  Her sister’s accusation still rang in her head. Not in a good way like the church bells on Christmas Day, more like a death knell.

  Posy hadn’t hung around to see what was going to happen next.

  For all she knew, Adam might already be on his way back to the airport.

  Was Hannah even going to tell him she was pregnant?

  Telling herself that it was none of her business, she reached her door and fumbled for her keys. She was never, ever, interfering with anyone else’s relationship again. It wasn’t even as if she was an expert.

  “Posy?” Luke’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs. “Can we talk?”

  “No. I’ve had enough human interaction for one day.” She stabbed her key into the lock so hard that if the door had been a living thing she would have killed it.

  Bonnie sprang to her feet and welcomed her with the riotous unbounded joy that was one of the many reasons Posy knew she would never, ever, choose to live her life without a dog.

  She dropped to her knees and hugged her, smiling as Bonnie’s whole body wagged along with her tail. “I want to move into your doggy world and never meet a human again.”

  “I’m assuming I’m the reason for this new life choice.” Luke stood in the doorway and Bonnie bounded across to him and offered an ecstatic welcome.

  Posy reflected on that traitorous instinct as Luke closed the door, sealing out the cold.

  The hayloft was her personal space, designed to offer maximum comfort on cold winter nights. Lamps sent soft light spilling across the wooden floors, and thick rugs and warm throws turned the place into a cozy cocoon. The original rustic oak beams were still in place and the vaulted ceiling gave an illusion of space, although in reality the loft wasn’t big. In the summer the views across the trees and the loch were stunning, but in winter it had its own special magic.

  Luke stayed by the door, as if expecting her to thrust him back through it. “Five minutes of your time. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  “That’s five minutes more than I’m prepared to give.”

  “You’re angry.”

  “You think? What gave me away? Is it the fact that my expression generally matches my mood so what you’re seeing here—” she drew circles in the air around her face “—is angry face, not happy face, puzzled face or concerned face. If I had a lied-to face, I’d be wearing that one, but I don’t have that face. You, on the other hand, give nothing away. When we were naked in that bed, I had no idea you weren’t who you said you were.”

  “I am who I said I was.”

  “You have a whole history that you forgot to mention.”

  “I didn’t mention it to begin with because I wasn’t sure how to handle it. It’s a sensitive topic and I didn’t want to upset you all. I’m not here to write about the accident. I never was.”

  “Maybe not, but you’re here because of the accident. You didn’t just pick us randomly from a map. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just call and say, Hi, remember my parents? I’d like to talk to you all.”

  “It wasn’t that simple. You were too young to remember it, but immediately after the accident, tensions were high.”

  “You mean that your aunt behaved like a crazy woman, although how she could possibly have been in a position to form an opinion on what happened when she spent her days working in a Manhattan high-rise is beyond me.” She knew she was being unfair, but her sense of betrayal blocked her ability to be calm and rational. Instead all she could think was what it must have been like for Suzanne, physically and emotionally bruised by her own close brush with death, tormented by her own questions as to whether she could somehow have avoided what happened.

  Posy had the insight to know her reaction was about more than Luke. It was about Hannah. It was about the complexity of relationships.

  “Trudy was close to her sister—” he hesitated “—to my mother. She was distraught.”

  “I saw the news footage. Your aunt was like a wild animal, yelling and hysterical.”

  There was one photo in particular that she remembered where Luke’s aunt had cornered Suzanne and was clearly shouting. Suzanne had the look of an animal being hunted. It had made Posy feel sick to see that photograph.

  Luke took his boots off and walked over to her. “I’m not defending her. And you’re right, part of her reaction stemmed from the fact that my aunt didn’t understand climbing at all. She lived in a city and worked in an office. She loved art and opera. She didn’t understand why her sister chose to climb, she didn’t understand the appeal or why anyone would take a risk. We both know there are two types of people in this world—those who understand climbers, and those who don’t. Answer a question for me—when you go out on a rescue, are you angry with the people for exposing themselves to the elements?”

  Posy stared at him, wrong-footed by the question. “No.”

  “You go into those mountains, in sometimes lethal weather conditions, to find someone who put themselves in that position through choice. No one forced them to go. It was voluntary. And there you are, having to take Bonnie out into the snow and bad weather. Both of you could be killed. That doesn’t make you angry and frustrated?”

  Posy stared at him. “Of course not.”

  “Right. But someone from the outside, who doesn’t have that love for the mountains, passion for climbing or understanding of the pull of the outdoors, doesn’t get it. You’ve seen it as often as I have—people being blamed for being ‘selfish.’ For putting other people’s lives at risk. And yet the rescuers themselves don’t feel that way. They understand what draws people to the mountains.”

  “So you’re basically saying your aunt’s behavior should be forgiven because she didn’t understand the whole mountain climbing thing.”

  “I’m giving you the context for her reaction. And the need to blame someone is a common aspect of grief.”

  “And she chose to blame Suzanne, who was already traumatized. Did you know that she gave up guiding after that? She never climbed again. She felt responsible.”

  He took the hit without flinching. “And my aunt contributed to that.”

  “Yes. And also to the nightmares and the continuing feelings of survivor guilt that never go away. You have no idea.” Posy scrambled to her feet and took off her coat, shaking snow over the floor. She wasn’t going to be sweet-talked. She wasn’t that easy.

  “I went through it, too, Posy.” For once, he wasn’t smiling. “I lost my parents that day.”

  All the fight went out of her.

  She dropped onto the sofa, exhausted and confused.

  She felt something wet on her hand and glanced down to see Bonnie licking her.

  “Your dog is worried about you.” He paused. “And so am I.”

  “It’s a bit late to be worried about me.”

&n
bsp; “This thing between us—I didn’t expect it to happen.”

  Neither had she, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do about it. “You should leave. I’m taking a group from Edinburgh climbing tomorrow, and I should get some sleep.” She levered herself off the sofa. “Close the door behind you.”

  He hesitated and then walked to the door.

  It was only when it was obvious he really was leaving that she discovered she didn’t want him to.

  As he bent to pick up his boots, she stopped him. “I have one question. If Beth hadn’t outed you tonight, when would you have told me? Would you have told me?”

  “Of course. As for when...” He shrugged. “I was enjoying what we had, and I was afraid to ruin it. I intended to say something as soon as I felt the time was right, but the longer I left it the harder it was to find that time.”

  “Well, at least that’s honest.”

  He’d lost his parents, too.

  And he hadn’t uttered a word against Suzanne, even though he wouldn’t have been old enough to make his own judgments when they’d died. There must have been times when he’d asked himself if Suzanne was to blame.

  He’d also lost his aunt, who had presumably been like a mother to him.

  She discovered that she wasn’t angry anymore. Life, she knew, was complicated. Also unpredictable and, for some, far too short, which made it all the more important to make the most of every moment of time.

  Her sisters wouldn’t understand, but that was their problem.

  Making a decision, she stood up. “I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you’ve lived with that, too, and I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sure your aunt was a good person.” She stood in front of him, the pools of melted snow by the door oozing through her socks and chilling her feet.

  “She was a good person. Good people sometimes behave badly.”

  She had a feeling she’d done just that.

  Presumably he was as protective of his family as she was of hers.

  Posy put her arms round his neck and rose up on her toes. “Kiss me.”

  His mouth hovered close to hers. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”