Rocky Mountain Miracle
Page 21
He couldn’t wait to see her, to watch the way her eyes lit up when she first saw him, to see her smile blossom and hear her laughter. He ached to hold her, to feel her skin against his and he could already taste her kiss. Sometimes, when he was away from her, he woke up with the taste of her in his mouth. He’d been gone two months this time. It was the longest they’d ever been apart, and he’d felt every second of the separation. He’d never stay away that long again. He needed his family far more than he needed the outlet of his undercover work. He would still continue it, but he would not take a job where he would be separated from them for so long. He’d learned, in his long absence, that they were his balance and sanity.
A part of him was afraid of his welcome. Afraid that smile, the light in Maia’s eyes wouldn’t be there for him this time. His hands gripped the steering wheel, thinking about losing her, losing what he had because he could never quite rid himself of the demons that plagued him his entire life.
He heard laughter and turned his head to see the two little girls running up the street, clutching at Jase’s hands, dragging him toward the clinic. Their dark hair, so like his, was shiny and bobbed as they ran. His three-year-old twin daughters had Maia’s deep blue-green eyes and her smile. He loved the sound of their laughter. He still couldn’t believe he had daughters. Beautiful twins who climbed all over him and kissed him every chance they got. Maia had given him that gift.
Observing Jase with his daughters brought a lump to his throat. His brother had grown into everything he’d hoped. He was tall and strong, his gangly frame filled out. He carried himself with confidence. The shadows that had always been present in his eyes were replaced with contentment. He had friends and did extraordinarily well in school. Maia had managed that as well. She’d had him working daily in the clinic with her, taking him on ranch calls and teaching him her craft, encouraging him in school and, more importantly, bringing him a sense of family.
Cole slid from the truck, knowing he was going to have to go in and face his fate. Unlike Jase, he knew he would never be rid of the past. He would awaken in a cold sweat, Maia in his arms, her voice soothing, her body soft and inviting, always ready to take away the nightmares. He loved her so much he ached with it, yet he couldn’t always stay. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Maia always saw the demons growing in him.
It was always Maia who put her arms around him and told him to go. “It’s okay,” she would whisper, kissing her way up his back to the nape of his neck. “Do what you have to do and come back to us.” She never cried, and she never chastised him or made him feel guilty. She was Maia, offering him freedom with love in her eyes. And he always returned because he couldn’t live without her.
But as he opened the door to the clinic, his heart pounded with fear. If she rejected him, his life was over. He knew that, knew he needed her more than most men needed their wife and lover. She gave him acceptance and understanding when he didn’t have it himself. She taught her daughters that same acceptance and understanding of his shortcomings, and she’d taught it to Jase.
The music greeted him as the door swung open. Someone bumped into him, laughed, and called out a merry Christmas. He just kept walking through the outer office, down the decorated hall to the back room, where the operation of filling boxes was taking place. Dread was growing, a dark ugly feeling he couldn’t stop. All around him were the signs of Christmas, of happiness overflowing. He walked with confidence, but deep inside, where no one saw, he was screaming inside.
“Daddy!” Ashley screamed his name and rushed him, a small dynamo, throwing her arms around one leg, effectively stopping him.
Mary cried out and followed her twin, twining her arms around the other leg.
Cole reached down for them, his heart nearly bursting as he picked the girls up and settled them on his hips, kissing them over and over, but all the time his attention was on her. On Maia. He heard Jase’s greeting. Felt the boy clap him on the back, and he returned the awkward hug. But it was Maia he watched. Maia he waited for.
She turned slowly, as if she were afraid to believe it was true. Her gaze settled on his face. He held his breath. There it was. That slow smile of joy that lit up her eyes, brightened her face. Tears shimmered. The tears that were never there when he left but always there when he returned.
“You’re home.”
He handed the twins to Jase. “I’m home.” He gathered her into his arms and found her mouth with his. She fit close to him, her arms winding tightly around his neck, her mouth every bit as demanding as his. He tasted her sweetness. He tasted acceptance. Desire. Most of all he tasted love. He felt weak with joy, with relief. Maia was his rock, his foundation. His very life.
“Get a room.” Jase and the twins chimed in together, something they did often around Maia and Cole.
Maia laughed, resting her head on Cole’s chest. “You made it home for Christmas.”
“I’d never miss Christmas. Did you put up the tree already?” He held his breath again. It was silly to want to choose the tree, not when there were only three days left.
“We never break tradition,” Jase answered. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Maia just burrowed closer to him, her arms sliding around his waist. Cole looked at his brother over her head, and they smiled. They had a home. A family. And they had love. If that wasn’t a Christmas miracle, nothing was.
About the Author
Christine Feehan is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of thirty novels, including the Carpathians, the Ghostwalkers, the Leopard People, and the Drake Sisters series. Her books have been published in multiple languages and in many formats including palm pilot, audiobook, and ebook. She has been featured in Time magazine and Newsweek, and lives in Cobb, California.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: authors.simonandschuster.com/Christine-Feehan
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Pocket Star Books
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2004 by Christine Feehan
Originally published in 2004 in The Shadows of Christmas Past.
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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition November 2014
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Cover photographs © Abramova Kseniya/Shutterstock (horse) and Eduard Kyslynskyy/Shutterstock (landscape)
ISBN: 978-1-4767-8456-4
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