To make the incredulous story even more unbelievable, it turned out that the puppy belonged to a couple who had to move away to a place where they couldn't have a dog. Madeline got to keep the puppy, and she named it Rudolph after the reindeer she'd seen the week before Christmas.
"Read it again," Tyler said as Grace closed the book.
"We'll do that tomorrow," Grace told him. "It's time for bed."
"I want to look outside first," Tyler said. "Maybe I can see Santa's sleigh. Then my Christmas wish will come true."
"Santa wouldn't be flying in a snowstorm," Grace said.
Ian was impressed with how quickly she'd come up with that rationalization.
Tyler looked disappointed, but even he couldn't fight the logic of that argument. Instead, he said, "Can we look tomorrow night, Grace?"
"Sure. Now it's time for you to go to bed. Why don't you brush your teeth, and then I'll be in to say good-night?"
"Okay." Tyler got up from the couch. "Night, Ian."
"Good-night, Tyler."
As the little boy left the room, Ian immediately started shaking his head. "Seriously, Grace? How can you read that book to your students? They're going to be standing outside every night for a month looking for Santa."
"It's just a story, Ian. And kids this age are always looking for Santa."
"Really? Tyler is about seven, right? That's getting a little old to believe in Santa Claus."
"I don't think there's an age where you have to stop believing in anything," she countered.
He knew the skepticism clearly showed on his face, but he couldn't hide it. "I know you hate science, but you can't tell me you believe in Santa Claus."
"I believe that some things in this world are unexplainable and that miracles happen. How they happen is obviously impossible for any of us to know. But, yes, I can believe in things I can't see or fully understand. I have hope and faith. I'm Irish."
"I'm Irish, too, at least a part of me is, but you're setting Tyler up for a fall. He's not going to see Santa. He's not going to get his wish, which I'm guessing has something to do with his dad coming home."
Her smile faded at his words. "Maybe Kevin will come home for Christmas."
"What if he doesn't?"
"I don't want to think that way." She met his gaze. "There's enough bad stuff in the world. Is it really that wrong to want children to keep their innocence as long as possible? There's something so joyful and beautiful about a child who still believes in impossible things. I want them to keep that faith as long as they can. Reality will be there when they're ready. I don't have to be the one who crushes their dreams."
He frowned, remembering someone else telling him something very similar not so long ago.
"What?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as she gave him a thoughtful look. "What did I say that got you thinking?"
"Nothing."
A knowing smile spread across her face. "Wait, I know. You killed someone's innocence, didn't you? Was it one of your siblings? Did you tell them Santa didn't exist?"
He didn't like how easily she'd read him. "Possibly," he admitted. "They were old enough to know better."
"Like how old?"
"Six or seven, I don't remember—about Tyler's age, I think. My mom was really upset with me."
"I'll bet."
He smiled. "I didn't just take down Santa. I included the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Hunter told me I destroyed his life, but he always exaggerates."
"Is he your younger brother?"
"Yes, he is. I didn't tell my sisters, though. I played along with their silly trips to see Santa at the mall."
"Was it that difficult?"
"In my head…yes."
"I bet you have an extremely high IQ."
He shrugged. "High enough to know Santa is just a character in a story."
"You don't really know that."
"I do," he argued. "The old guy in the mall is just working for minimum wage."
"I'm not talking about the Santa in the mall, Ian. I know you like things to add up. Two plus two always equals four, right?"
"It does equal four, Grace."
"I know that. But I'm just saying that not everything in life adds up."
"You'd be surprised how much does…if you do the math."
"And you always do the math."
"It makes the world make sense."
She settled back against the couch, considering his words. "For the first time tonight, you actually do not remind me of my father."
He didn't know if he should be happy about that or not.
"My dad might have been a man of science," she continued. "But he wasn't averse to kissing the Blarney Stone to receive the gift of eloquence or putting out a mince pie and a glass of Guinness for Santa or Father Christmas, as we sometimes referred to him."
Ian was surprised by the softness of her tone. "That's the first thing you've said about him that doesn't hold disappointment or anger."
"To be honest, that's the first thing I've remembered about him in a long time that didn't upset me." She shook her head, as if she couldn't quite believe it. "I had my first taste of Guinness out of the glass he put out for Santa. I think I was about nine. I didn't really believe in Father Christmas anymore, but it was one of the few traditions we did together. And that Guinness was our little secret." She cleared her throat and got to her feet. "I'm going to check on Tyler. I'll bring you a pillow and some blankets for the couch. That's the best I can do. Even if the snow lets up, you'll have to dig your car out tomorrow morning."
"The couch will be fine," he said, as he stood up. "I appreciate your generosity, Grace, considering that I didn't bring you something you actually wanted."
"I'm not going to hold you responsible for that. You were doing a favor."
"Last time I make that mistake," he said lightly. "I usually make it a rule not to get involved with anyone's personal problems. It never works out well. I should have followed my gut."
"It hasn't been so terrible having you around. You did make us dinner and you came up with a science project for Tyler. Since I know you don't like debt of any kind, we'll call it even."
"That sounds fair."
Their gazes met again, and he felt the same intense pull toward her that he'd felt in the kitchen. He couldn't help the impulsive question that slid from his mouth. "Do you have a boyfriend, Grace?"
She started, a wary expression entering her eyes. "No, not at the moment."
"Interesting."
"I can't imagine why you'd think so."
"I think you can."
Her eyes glittered. "You're flirting with me?"
A smile curved his lips at her question. "Apparently not that well, if you have to ask."
"I'm flattered, but…" Her voice fell away.
"But you're not interested?"
Conflict warred in her eyes. "I'd be a liar to say that."
Heat ran through him at her honest words. "Good."
"Not good," she said, shaking her head. "We just met, and Tyler is here, and you're only in town a few days. So…I'm going to call it a night."
He knew she was right for all the reasons she'd just said and a dozen more, but he couldn't say he wasn't disappointed.
"If you don't want to wait for me to finish up with Tyler," she added, "you can grab some pillows and blankets out of the hall closet. And there's probably a new toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. Good night, Ian."
"Good night," he said, watching her leave the room with mixed feelings. If it wasn't snowing, he would definitely be out the door, because Grace was stirring up some long-buried emotions. He hadn't been involved seriously with anyone in a long time, and he only dated women who didn't want more than he did. He knew Grace would want a lot from a man, and he was not that man.
But as he walked down the hall to grab a blanket out of the closet, he was shocked at the idea that he might want to be.
Five
Grace didn't sleep well. Her restless
dreams were filled with memories of her father, the package he'd sent her, and Ian's talk about her father's regrets. Was she being unreasonably stubborn to want nothing to do with the man who had given her life? Was it a mistake to send the package back unopened?
On the other hand, did she really owe her father anything? He was the one who had betrayed her mother and the family. He was the one who'd abandoned them long before they'd left Ireland.
And why had her father sent Ian to deliver the package? If he wanted to see her, to make amends, to start a conversation, why hadn't he come himself? Obviously he knew where she lived. Was he just afraid to be rejected in person? Wasn't that just more evidence of his cowardice?
She hated that she was even thinking about him again. She'd chosen her mother's side years ago. It was too late to change back, and why should she? What had really changed?
Flopping on to her back as the morning light crept through the window, she was relieved that the long night was over.
She couldn't keep going around in circles in her head. The best thing to do was to send the package back. She didn't need a father now, and she didn't need to bring her mother more unhappiness by reconnecting with her dad. She just needed to let things be.
As her mind moved away from her father, it went straight to Ian.
She'd had a few disturbing dreams about him, too, remembering how he'd looked at her in the kitchen, the way he'd flirted with her before she went to bed, and the fact that she'd acknowledged she was attracted to him.
But they'd only just met. She shouldn't want a man—a stranger—that fast. It had never happened before. She always took time to get to know someone, and whatever spark was there simmered for a while, then got stronger, and then there was a little more heat.
She heaved a sigh as she finished the rest of that thought…and then the heat usually fizzled out.
She ended up back where she started, wondering where was the great love her grandmother had spoken about and why was it taking her so long to find it?
But that great love could not be with a man of science, even if he did make her want to throw herself into his arms. She needed a man like her mother's second husband, someone who would always be there, who cared about her more than his work or the rest of the world.
Besides, Ian wasn't going to be in her life past the next hour probably. As soon as he could dig his car out of the snow, he'd be gone, so this whole rumination about whether or not she should get involved with him was completely pointless.
Getting up from bed, she walked over to the window and looked outside. Several feet of snow had crept up to her windowsill from the ground, and the trees were completely white. It was cloudy but not snowing anymore. Hopefully, the storm had passed.
She took a quick shower and got dressed. Then she woke up a sleepy Tyler and told him to get up while she headed to the kitchen, where she could already smell coffee brewing.
When she walked into the room, she discovered that Ian hadn't just made coffee; he'd also made breakfast.
"Morning," he said cheerfully, looking as sexy as he had the night before. There was a new growth of beard on his face, and his hair was a bit tousled, but that only added to his appeal.
She'd really hoped that her dreams had made him more attractive than he really was, but that wasn't the case. Her stomach churned, and little tingles ran down her spine when their gazes met. She was immensely relieved when he looked away.
"Scrambled eggs are ready," he told her, sliding the eggs onto three plates. "Is Tyler up?"
"He's dressing." She moved over to the coffeemaker and took a mug out of the cabinet. "I said we were even last night, Ian, but now you've pulled ahead again with this generous effort to make us breakfast."
"I was hungry. You had eggs, bacon, and bread. I just put it together."
She liked that he didn't expect to be praised for just being helpful. She sighed, thinking she really needed to start finding things she didn't like about him. She took a sip of coffee, then set down her mug and buttered the toast popping out of the toaster. She put the toast on the plates while Ian got the bacon, and a few minutes later, they sat down at the table together. Tyler came into the room with a sleepy face and slid into the chair across from her.
One bite of Ian's eggs made her wonder why she'd been settling for yogurt and oatmeal the past few months. He definitely had a magic touch in the kitchen. Not that he'd admit it was magic, she thought, smiling to herself. Ian was all about science. Add one ingredient to another and voila—breakfast.
"Something amusing?" he asked her, a quizzical gleam in his eyes.
"No," she said, deciding not to share. Thankfully, the buzzing of her phone precluded another question from him. She got up and grabbed her phone to read the text, thinking it might be from Carrie, but it was from the principal of her school.
"Is that my mom?" Tyler asked.
"No, it's the school," she replied. "Two large trees are blocking the entrance and part of the playground, so they've decided to call it a snow day."
"No school?" Tyler asked with a surprised and wide-eyed grin.
"That's right. But I thought you loved school."
"I do, but there's tons of snow outside. Maybe we could go sledding." He gave her a hopeful look.
"That's a thought."
"And we could make my volcano later," Tyler added, turning his pleading smile on Ian. "Right? You said we could do it after school. How about after sledding? You could come with us if you want."
"Ian has to go to work," she interjected. "He's in Tahoe for a conference, Tyler."
"Maybe he has a snow day, too," Tyler suggested.
Ian laughed. "You know, Tyler, I've never had a snow day. Growing up in San Francisco, the worst weather we got was rain or fog."
"Then you should go sledding with us. Do you know how to sled?"
"I do, but I haven't done it in a while."
"Your conference isn't beginning today?" she asked, quite sure that spending more time with Ian would be a mistake.
"It doesn't officially begin until tomorrow. There's a cocktail party tonight, but that isn't until six, so I have some free time."
"Then we can go to the snow park," Tyler said, deciding for all of them.
"Works for me," Ian said.
She hesitated as two pairs of male eyes turned on her. She found it impossible to say no to either one of them. "All right. I'm in."
"Yay!" Tyler said, clapping his hands together.
She laughed at his over-the-top happy grin, and wondered why she'd even considered refusing. She'd promised to do everything she could to keep a smile on Tyler's face so he wouldn't miss his mom or his dad, and if sledding was going to make him happy, she'd cheerfully take him down as many runs as he wanted. "But," she said, suddenly remembering why there was a snow day. "We're going to have to shovel some snow so we can get a car down the driveway."
"I can help you with that," Ian offered.
"You're going to have to, if you ever want to leave here."
"I'm not really in a hurry," he said, giving her a warm smile that made her insides melt.
And she really wasn't in a hurry for him to leave, although she knew she should be.
"I'm in a hurry," Tyler interrupted. "Can we start shoveling snow now?"
"After breakfast," she told him. "Eat your eggs, buddy. You're going to need your strength."
She was going to need some strength, too—not just to shovel snow, but to not let Ian Callaway get any further under her skin.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, she had set up Tyler and Ian with shovels and a snow blower that she'd retrieved from the garage. She had to take the items through the house since the garage door was blocked with snow. Once the guys got started, she returned to the house to put on warmer clothes. She'd just put on her coat and boots when her phone rang, and Carrie's number flashed across the screen. Her heart leapt into her throat as she threw up a silent prayer for good news.
"Hello?"<
br />
"It's me," Carrie said, a shaky note in her voice. "How's Tyler?"
"He's fine. How are you? How's Kevin?"
"He's back in surgery. I got to see him an hour ago, and he woke up for like a minute. He said he loves me and Tyler. He said to make sure Tyler knows that, as if—as if he's afraid he won't make it." Her voice broke. "God, Grace, it's so hard to see him like that. I want to make him better, but I can't."
"Oh, Carrie," she said, her heart twisting at the pain in her friend's voice. "You just have to keep the faith. They have good doctors there. They're going to do everything they can to save his life."
"I'm trying to be strong, but they said he has a pulmonary embolism, a blood clot in his lung, or something like that. They have to go back in even though he's very weak. He's got a broken leg, a broken wrist, cracked ribs, and internal injuries. He looked really bad and yet really good, too. I hadn't seen him in so long. I didn't want to cry in front of him, but it was difficult to be positive. I hope he knows that I have faith in his recovery. I hope I didn't blow that."
"You didn't. You couldn't. How long will he be in surgery?"
"I'm not sure." She took a breath. "I just need him to be okay, Grace. I need him to live. He's my best friend. He's the love of my life. He's Tyler's father. He has more to do. He has to make it."
"He will be there for you and Tyler," she said fiercely. "Kevin is a tough guy. He's a fighter."
"If he dies, I don't know what I'll tell Tyler."
"Don't even think about that now."
"I'm trying not to. Wait, why did you answer your phone? I was just going to leave a message. I thought you'd be in class. It's not recess, is it? I'm all screwed up on the time difference."
"It's a snow day. Some trees fell down, so they called off school. But the storm has passed and as soon as I can clear my driveway, Tyler and I are going to go sledding."
"Oh, he'll love that."
"He seems pretty excited. He's a great kid, Carrie."
"He is pretty special," Carrie agreed. "He's got a lot of his father in him."
Grace took a breath, thinking she should probably mention Ian. "I need to tell you something, Carrie. It's not a big deal, but last night right before Tyler arrived, a friend of my father's dropped off a package for me from my dad."
Closer To You (Callaways Book 11) Page 6