Colorado Christmas

by C. C. Coburn

  “I can see you don’t agree with me, dear. But I’m speaking from experience. I wouldn’t trade my family and my life here for anything. I’ve found a contentment in this place and among these people that I would never have found had I completed my doctorate at MIT.”

  It took a moment for Sarah’s words to sink in. “You were in a doctorate program at MIT?” Becky asked in disbelief. “Why did you give it up?”

  Sarah’s blue eyes twinkled. “I fell in love.”

  “But—”

  “All the degrees and scholarship and accolades in the world mean nothing unless you have inner peace. I found mine with Mac and I’ve never regretted my decision. Not once.”

  “But…you could’ve achieved so much more if you’d stayed and finished it.”

  Sarah shrugged. “So much more of what? Late nights spent poring over research and textbooks? Days taken up with examinations and the constant stress to achieve high marks? I was a driven child, Becky, the product of overachieving parents. I graduated from high school at fifteen and had two degrees by the age of twenty. But I wasn’t truly happy. And I’d never been in love. Not until the day I saw MacKinley O’Malley at a college football game. Our eyes met as he pulled off his helmet and I knew he was The One.”

  Becky laughed. “That’s a little melodramatic. And what’s falling in love got to do with Nicolas? He’s barely eight years old.”

  Sarah placed her hand on Becky’s arm. “I’m trying to point out there’s more to life than excellent grades. Nicolas is smart enough. Putting him up several grades isn’t going to improve his chances of getting into an Ivy League university if that’s what you’re after. Let him be a child, let him breathe and enjoy pursuits that aren’t wholly intellectual. You’ll have a much happier little boy.”

  The older woman’s attention was drawn away as someone approached from behind Becky. “Darling! You must be pleased with the turnout.”

  “Sure am, Mom. You two getting acquainted?” Will O’Malley asked, and kissed his mother’s cheek.

  “More like your mother’s telling me how to raise my son,” Becky said without thinking. She bit her tongue and said, “I’m sorry, I…I’m not used to people telling me what to do with Nicolas. I’ve made all the decisions for him on my own and I’m not accustomed to other people sharing their opinions on how to raise him.”

  “You’re doing a wonderful job, Becky,” Sarah assured her. “He’s a charming boy and my granddaughters dote on him.” She indicated the children talking animatedly as they ate corn on the cob.

  “Mom knows how to raise sons,” Will said, hugging his mother to his side. “Just look at how well I turned out.”

  Sarah swatted his arm. “Let’s not discuss your behavior of late. I only agreed to hold the barbecue here because I was so embarrassed by your antics and felt the O’Malleys needed to make amends.”

  Far from being castigated by his mother’s remark, he grinned broadly.

  “Why don’t you give Becky a tour of the house?” she suggested. “I see some people I need to catch up with.” She took Becky’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, and I do hope you’ll take up my invitation to dinner sometime.”

  “Thank you, I’d like that,” Becky said, then turned to Will, ready to make an excuse to avoid touring the house with him. But any sensible excuse fled as their eyes locked. There was something unfathomable in his dark eyes. Something she felt compelled to explore. “Lead on, O’Malley,” she said and swung toward the house.

  Chapter Eleven

  Will pushed open the French doors that led from the dining room onto the rear veranda, urging Becky to walk out ahead of him. “This is my favorite view from the house.”

  Brushing the snow from the railing, she rested her gloved hands on it and gazed at the panoramic view of the mountains. The ranch lay in a valley running parallel to Spruce Lake. The mountains surrounding it weren’t carved with ski runs, so the pines, spruce and fir marched in an unbroken mass of dark green all the way up to the tree line. Above that, the snowcapped peaks soared into a clear blue sky. “It’s absolutely breathtaking,” she said.

  “You should see it during summer and fall. The mountains are reflected in the lake and when the sun sets behind them, it’s so beautiful you’d swear you were in heaven.”

  “I think I’m in heaven already,” Becky murmured, recognizing how much—and how quickly—she’d come to appreciate this special corner of Colorado. Yes, the town was filled with eccentric folk—and pigs—but it was also filled with kind ones. People here seemed more contented away from the stress and bustle of the city.

  Her breath caught when Will stepped up behind her. His warm body pressed against her back and his big hands closed around her upper arms, melting her resolve to keep away from temptation.

  “Oh…” she murmured as his lips brushed the side of her throat. Ever since their first encounter, she’d dreamed of him holding her like this, showering her with kisses. Making love to her…

  Maybe it was time to see how those interrupted dreams ended….

  When he turned her in his arms, she went willingly, her eyes riveted on the dark hair that sprang from the top of his shirt. He placed a finger beneath her chin, lifting it, forcing her to look into his eyes. Becky recognized in their depths a yearning to match her own. It scared her to the marrow of her bones. “W-Will?”

  “Shh,” he said and stroked her cheeks.

  His hands trembled, confusing her. This man who could have any woman he wanted was afraid? He touched his lips to hers and Becky closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the tenderness emanating from him. She rested her hands on his shoulders, loving the strength she felt there, craving the human contact. The warmth of his body, his hands, his mouth.

  WITH A GROAN, Will wrapped his arms around Becky, needing to feel every part of her pressed against him, assuring him she wanted this as much as he did. When her fingers plunged into his hair, holding him fast as she returned his kiss, he had his answer.

  For the longest time, he kissed her, tasted her, let her set the pace. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that his judge liked to be in control.

  When her mouth opened beneath his, he deepened their kiss. She met his passion with her own, sending high-voltage jolts pulsing through him. When he dared to cup her breast, she rewarded him with a moan of pleasure. He brushed the pad of his thumb over her nipple and she whimpered.

  Will could feel his self-control unraveling. He should put a stop to this right now. But first, he had to taste her sweet mouth for just a little longer.

  PLEASURE SURGED through Becky. She loved the sensation of his body pressed so intimately against hers, the awareness of his arousal, his warm hand cupping her breast, stroking her through the fabric of her sweater. Every nerve throbbed with excitement as she realized: This is what I want. This is what I need.

  A woman’s laughter broke through her sensual haze.

  Stunned back to reality, Becky pulled her mouth from his and glanced around, certain they’d been seen.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “Everyone’s around the other side of the house. Sound carries in the clear air.”

  He bent to kiss her again, but the erotic spell was broken. What was she thinking? What if someone had seen them? Becky placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

  “Becky?”

  She shook her head. “I…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let things go so far.”

  She saw confusion in his eyes.

  Unable to bear it, she turned away.

  “Tell me what I was feeling wasn’t completely one-sided,” he whispered.

  “It wasn’t,” she said, needing to be honest. “But it’s been a long time for me, and I…I got carried away.” She turned back to him, her face burning with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” To halt any further discussion, she wrapped her arms around her and said, “It’s getting cold out here. Can we continue the tour of the house?”

  His relu
ctant nod made Becky feel like a fool. She’d hurt him. Will O’Malley might kid around, but beneath his smile beat a heart she sensed could be easily bruised. She knew all about being hurt, and she certainly didn’t wish it on him. From now on, she vowed to maintain some semblance of dignity in his presence—even if she yearned to be kissed by him again.

  A relationship between them wouldn’t work. They were too different. Will was too carefree, while her responsibilities weighed her down. He didn’t take life seriously enough. And despite the effect he was having on her, Becky was painfully aware that she was the town judge. She had to maintain her decorum—no matter how desperately she longed to feel like a desirable woman again.

  “AND THIS IS MY ROOM,” he said, opening a door and standing back to let Becky in ahead of him. They’d toured the rest of the house festooned with Christmas decorations—some made by Will’s nieces.

  “It’s pink,” she said.

  “Yes, I’m so glad Sash decided to keep my decorating scheme when she moved in,” he said dryly.

  She laughed. “So where do you live?”

  “I’ve moved into an apartment above Mrs. C.’s shop. Makes it easier to get to work.”

  “You have a job?”

  “Several. Unfortunately, none of them pay.” He sat on the bed, leaned back on his elbows and rested his ankle on his thigh.

  That action accentuated his masculinity. Maybe a tour of the house—particularly one that included the bedrooms—wasn’t such a wise idea. “Exactly how many unpaid jobs do you have?” she asked to cover her discomfort.

  “I help Mrs. C. at her florist shop and walk Miss Patterson’s dogs. Although if you’d agree to take Dugald I could devote more time to my other unpaid job—saving the buildings.”

  “The mayor said you threatened him and that you’re gunning for his job.”

  Will snorted with disgust. “I said it in the heat of the moment. But he definitely needs to lose his job during the next election. If not before.”

  Becky crossed her arms. “So you don’t have designs on city hall?”

  “Not really. It’s a disgrace there was no opportunity for public comment on the future of the buildings. The development plans received a speedy approval. It stinks. And so does the mayor.”

  Becky said nothing. Although she agreed with Will, as a judge she had to remain impartial.

  “There’s also your community service at the Twilight Years,” she said, bringing him back to the topic—his lack of paid employment.

  “Finished as of Friday.”

  “That was fifty hours. You can’t possibly have completed it so soon.”

  “Well, I did.”

  He was back to being much too cocky and it grated on her. “Have you negotiated some kind of deal with the director of the home?”

  “Deal?”

  “To say you’ve done the work when you haven’t.” Becky could feel her irritation growing and was powerless to stop it.

  He sat forward, placing both feet on the floor. “The only deal I have with the director of the Twilight Years was for them to adopt Edward—and for the residents to come to this fundraiser.” He paused as though he’d planned to say something more, then pushed himself off the bed and headed toward the door. He was about to go through but turned back. “What is it with you? Why are you so ready to believe the worst of me?”

  The anger in his tone had Becky taking a step backward. “I…I—”

  “Ah, drop it!” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I thought you were someone special, but in reality, I’m wasting my time.”

  He stalked out the door, leaving Becky reeling in his wake. She wasn’t worth his time? “Just a minute!” she called and raced down the stairs to demand he apologize. But Will’s legs were a lot longer than hers and he was pulling open the front door before she caught up with him.

  Between the bedroom and the front hall, Becky had realized she was the one who should be apologizing. He was right; she had been too quick to think the worst of him. “Will!” she cried. “Please wait.”

  He halted, but didn’t look back at her. “Wait for what? Another of your unilateral votes of nonconfidence?”

  “I’m sorry. I was way out of line.”

  “You got that right.” He released the doorknob and turned to her. “You know, Judge. What I don’t get is why I don’t have a problem with anyone in this town, apart from the mayor. And you. The mayor I can understand, but I have no idea why you dislike me so much.”

  Becky bowed her head, inhaled a deep breath and looked up at him. “I…I don’t dislike you. I…have a lot of trouble trusting people.”

  “You seem to trust Matt just fine. Mrs. C., everyone who works at the courthouse—”

  “You remind me of my father and my ex-husband,” she blurted.

  Will blinked. “Excuse me?”

  When she didn’t answer, he said, “That’s reason enough to hate me, to distrust me?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Will folded his arms. “Try me.”

  “It’s too long a story.”

  “The synopsis will do.”

  Becky swallowed. There was no backing out of this. She’d hurt Will and needed to make amends. “If I tell you something, can I have your promise to keep it strictly between us?”

  He nodded solemnly, and the intensity in his gaze convinced her she could trust him with her awful past. “My father was a gambler and a drunk. His easygoing attitude to life, the way he ran up debts, got us driven out of one town to the next.”

  She could feel her face burning with shame at the bald admission. The only other person in the world who knew the embarrassing circumstances of her childhood was Ben Solomon. She’d never even admitted the full truth to Graham.

  Will frowned. “Sorry, don’t see the connection. I don’t gamble. I don’t drink much. And I have no debts.”

  “You have no assets, either.”

  Will’s eyes narrowed. “What would you know about that?”

  “I…” Becky was starting to see the absurdity of her assumption about Will being like her father. “You don’t have a job.”

  “Aah…” He drew the word out. “So, because I don’t have a paying job, I can’t possibly have any assets? And if someone doesn’t have any assets, then he’s automatically catalogued as unworthy? Wow, for a judge, you’re awfully judgmental,” he said mockingly and reached for the doorknob. “If you’ll excuse me, Judge, I have guests to entertain.”

  “Wait!”

  “For what? More insults?”

  “My husband was a charmer.”

  “So?”

  “He…could charm the birds out of the trees. Pretty much like you.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  Becky’s shoulders dropped in defeat. “I told you it was complicated. And I’m making a mess of this.” She paced the floor of the wide entry hall. “I’m sorry…I—I’ve never talked about my childhood. Or my marriage. It’s not easy for me to…to reveal private things. I was trying to tell you why I have a problem with trusting people.”

  WILL LEANED AGAINST the door. “Tell me. I need to know,” he said.

  Becky took a quick breath and said, “All right, if you think you’re ready for the unvarnished truth.”

  “I am.”

  “Nicolas’s father—his name is Graham Marcus—didn’t want anything to do with him once he found out our baby wasn’t…perfect.”

  So Nick’s father had rejected him. It explained a lot about her overprotectiveness.

  “I knew something was wrong when he didn’t reach the physical milestones. I voiced my concerns to Graham but he pointed out how far ahead Nicolas was in his speech and communication skills. He talked in sentences at fifteen months,” she said. “He could even count the number of peas in his dinner.”

  Will smiled as he pictured Nick, one little finger separating his peas to count them.

  “Graham felt I was looking for problems that didn’t exist. His expectations for h
is son were high. Too high. He was convinced Nicolas would excel both academically and in all the same sports he had as a youngster.” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “Even going so far as to enroll him in the same schools he’d attended.”

  Obviously the guy had a huge ego.

  “When Nicolas turned two, I insisted on having tests done and we got the diagnosis. Nicolas has cerebral palsy….” Her face was pinched with pain and Will wanted to comfort her, but she stepped away and paced the hallway again.

  “I felt as if I’d been plunged into an abyss when the doctor told us what Nicolas’s life would be like—even though it’s a relatively mild form of CP, he might never walk, he’d need physical therapy, he could have any number of health problems as a result of his condition.”

  She swiped at the tears glistening on her cheeks. “Graham said nothing. He just got up and walked out of the doctor’s office.”

  Will wanted to punch the wall. Becky’s ex hadn’t deserved her or their son.

  “I…was devastated at the implications for my son’s future and his quality of life. At first, I thought Graham had walked out because he was so distressed, but instead he…” She paused and scrubbed at her face. “He drove off, leaving us both behind at the doctor’s. When I got home he refused to look at Nicolas. He said…he said…”

  She fought tears, and Will wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her it didn’t matter, that Nicolas was with people who cared about him now.

  “He said Nicolas revolted him and he wanted him put in full-time care. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could anyone turn off his love like that—and do it to a child who needed his love and support? We had a huge fight and he blamed me for having the tests done in the first place. As if that would’ve made any difference!”

  What sort of heartless bastard could turn his back on their child? “Did you consider doing what he wanted?”

  “Of course not! Not for a second. And when…when I adamantly refused, he said…it was my choice—either him…or the…the…cripple—” Becky’s voice broke and Will took her in his arms.