by Brenda Novak
A challenging glint lit Josh’s eyes. Josh and Rebecca loved each other desperately, but he’d never seen two more competitive people. “Then it looks to me as if the boys are gonna have to get serious.”
“Good luck,” Rebecca said scornfully.
“Maybe we should have some pie before we start,” Mike’s mother suggested.
The entire room groaned in unison. “We’re too stuffed right now,” Aunt Cori said.
“Okay.” Mike’s mother sat on the arm of the recliner his father had claimed. “Who goes first?”
They played for more than an hour, stopping only when everyone nearly fell off their chairs laughing at Rebecca’s imitation of a samurai.
As the women gloated over their latest win, Mike started for the kitchen to get another glass of wine, but Aunt Cori grabbed his arm before he could take more than two steps. “Hey, Mike, how’s your love life these days?”
“Not too good,” he said. “I’ve been too busy to date.”
She grinned knowingly. “That’s not what I heard. Sparky Douglas asked me just yesterday why you were staying at the Timberline Motel a couple of weeks back, when you’ve got so much family in town.” She nudged him. “I told him there was only one reason I could think of.”
Mike coughed to hide his surprise. Very few people had been out and about during the storm, but Sparky was the motel handyman. He’d probably noticed Mike’s truck, as well as the fact that Mike hadn’t officially registered. “It wasn’t anything,” he said. “The roads were closed because of the storm, and I happened to know someone passing through town.”
“Someone?”
“From McCall,” he lied.
“Oh, that woman you dated a couple of years ago?”
He nodded, grateful she’d jumped to that conclusion.
“Your mother and I keep hoping you’ll get married,” she said with a pout.
“Maybe someday.” He tried to escape, but she was still holding his arm.
“Sparky said Lucky Caldwell stayed at the motel the same night you did. Did you know that?”
Mike couldn’t help shooting a glance at Josh, who shrugged imperceptibly—but if Aunt Cori knew he’d been with Lucky, he would’ve heard about it long before now. “Actually, I did. I gave her a ride into town. She was stranded out at the Victorian with no heat or water.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your mother called me that day.” She shook her head. “It’s too bad Lucky’s back. I thought that was behind us.”
“I think she’s out of town.” Mike kept his voice low. He didn’t want any other family members to hear Lucky’s name and jump into the conversation. He was afraid they might be able to make the connection his aunt had missed. With so few cabins at the motel, he figured it was patently obvious where he’d been and what he’d been doing, but that could’ve been because he had a guilty conscience. Certainly no one in his family would ever expect him to get involved with Lucky.
“Yeah, maybe she’s left town already,” Uncle Bunk piped up, overhearing their conversation despite Mike’s attempts to keep it quiet. “Seems no one’s seen her the past couple of days.”
Mike swallowed a groan as his mother joined in.
“Did someone say Lucky’s gone?”
The relief and hope in her voice irritated him. “She’s just out of town for Christmas,” he said.
“What makes you think she’s out of town?” Rebecca asked, coming to take her son, who was wide awake and demanding to be fed. Now pretty much everyone was listening.
“She has family in the Washington area.”
Rebecca settled baby Brian in her arms and threw a blanket over her shoulder to nurse. “How’d she get to the airport?”
Mike shoved his hands in his pockets in an effort to appear as uninterested as possible. “I guess she drove.”
“She couldn’t have. Her car’s parked behind the Victorian.”
Mike blinked at his sister-in-law as he tried to assimilate this information. “Her car’s where?”
“Behind the house. We saw it this morning when we went riding, didn’t we, Josh?”
Josh frowned, as if he’d rather not say.
“Josh?” Rebecca repeated.
He nodded grudgingly.
His mother shook her head. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
Mike tried to look indifferent but felt a scowl descend instead. “She probably had someone give her a ride,” he said, and Josh added a “Maybe.” But Mike was far from convinced. If someone had taken Lucky to the airport, why would she move her car around back, where there wasn’t even a driveway? If it snowed very heavily while she was gone, she’d return to find her Mustang buried.
She wouldn’t do that. The only reason she’d hide her car was to make people believe she’d left. She didn’t want anyone to know she’d be alone for Christmas.
ONCE HE KNEW Lucky was sitting in that big Victorian with the tree he’d given her and probably not much else, Mike grew agitated. She always pretended to be so tough, so unconcerned about her own needs. Why couldn’t she simply admit she had no plans so he could have—
What? he asked himself. Kept her company? He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t have anything to do with her.
Jamming a hand through his hair, he did his best to fade into the background of the celebration he was no longer enjoying. But, after another thirty minutes, he was damn near claustrophobic with all the relatives pressing in on every side.
Mumbling something about not feeling well, which was the only acceptable excuse he could come up with, he apologized for having to leave early and hurried to the door.
His mother intercepted him before he could reach it. “Mike, did I hear your father correctly? He said you’re sick. What’s wrong?”
Mike struggled to remove any revealing expressions from his face. “I think I’m coming down with something,” he muttered.
“But if you go home now, you’ll miss opening presents with us.”
“I’ll come back and open mine in the morning, if you want.”
Worry clouded her features, and she put a hand to his forehead. He hated it when she treated him as if he was still a little boy, but he was glad he’d tolerated her ministrations when she delivered the verdict that he did seem a bit warm.
“You don’t want to be sick for the rest of the holidays,” she said. “Go get some rest.”
Now that he had her blessing, he strode outside, trying to convince himself that he’d ignore the uncharacteristic emotions flowing through him and head straight to the ranch. But deep down he knew he wasn’t going home.
He was going to Lucky’s.
LUCKY WAS AWAKENED by a noise.
She held her breath, waiting to see if the sound would be repeated. A moment later, she heard a soft knock.
Someone was at her door. But who? Who would drop by her house on Christmas Eve at—she squinted to make out the numbers on her watch—nearly ten o’clock?
Whoever it was, she wouldn’t answer. She wasn’t supposed to be home, for one thing. And she was afraid Smalley might be back, bent on a little mischief after a few holiday beers.
Crouching low, she crawled over to sit with her back against the wall next to the door, where she couldn’t be seen if her visitor decided to circle the house and peek through the windows.
Whoever it is will go away.
Her palms began to sweat as she waited nervously, but her visitor didn’t leave. Another knock sounded, this one more insistent than the last, and a voice came through the door. “Lucky, it’s me, Mike.”
Lucky covered her mouth. She would have preferred Smalley! Why wasn’t Mike with his family? Had he come home early and spotted the Christmas tree lights? How had she been stupid enough to fall asleep with them on?
“I know you’re in there,” he said. “And I’m not leaving until I see you, so you might as well open up.”
Obviously it was no use pretending anymore. With a sigh, Lucky stood and unbolted the lock. She hated ap
pearing pathetic, especially to Mike or his family, but there wasn’t any way to avoid looking pathetic tonight. How many other people spent Christmas alone? Probably not many, at least not in Dundee, and certainly no one in Mike’s big happy family.
Opening the door, she cracked a smile. “Need to borrow an egg or maybe a cup of sugar?”
He didn’t respond to her attempt at levity. He was standing on the porch, his thumbs hooked in his pockets. It was difficult to make out his expression in the shadow of his hat and the dark, murky porch—so difficult she considered turning on the light. But she was afraid that would reveal the excitement she felt at seeing him. “Is something wrong?”
“Why did you tell me you were leaving town for the holidays?”
“Because I was. Until I decided at the last minute that maybe it’d be nice to…”
“To what?” he demanded when she couldn’t seem to find the words she wanted.
“You know, to spend a quiet Christmas at home.”
“Alone.”
Lucky lifted her chin defiantly. “Sure, why not?”
Mike stepped closer but resumed the same challenging stance. “You were never going to Washington in the first place, were you?”
Letting her breath seep out between her teeth, she leaned against the lintel. “What do you want from me, Mike?”
He gave her a speculative look but no answer.
“Do you want to hear me say that I don’t really have anywhere to go? That I’m not close to my brothers the way you’re close to your family? Okay, it’s true. But it doesn’t bother me.”
“Bullshit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re as human as the rest of us.”
His eyes glittered in the darkness, making her feel as though he could see into her soul. Scrambling to rescue what she could of her pride, she jerked her head toward his truck parked in her driveway. “Okay, so I’m human. Now, you’d better go home before someone sees you here. They might not believe you stopped by just to gloat over my lonely Christmas.”
“I’m not here to gloat.”
“Why are you here?”
He stared at her for several seconds. Finally he said, “Because I want to be.”
Their eyes met, and a powerful yearning swept through Lucky. “I won’t be around in a couple of months,” she said. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to remind him of that, except she thought it might make things easier.
He stepped closer still, hovering only centimeters away. “Then maybe we should stop wasting time.”
Lucky’s heart skipped a beat at the promise in his voice. “Mike—”
He ran a finger along her jaw, then lowered his head to press his lips against hers, silencing her with his kiss. She let her eyelids flutter shut at the sweet, gentle contact and felt his hand come up to support the back of her head. “I want to stay the night,” he said softly.
Lucky’s breath caught in her throat, but she opened her eyes and said what she knew was best for both of them. “You should probably go home.”
He must have recognized the lack of conviction in those words because his arms tightened around her. “If I went home, I’d only come back.”
She let her lips curve in a seductive smile. “What if I didn’t let you in?”
“I’d beg,” he whispered, trailing kisses down her neck.
Lucky couldn’t help chuckling at the thought of Mike Hill begging at her door. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“I would, on my knees.” More kisses, lightly grazing her skin, sending goose bumps down her spine. “Would you still turn me away?”
“If I knew what was good for me, I would.”
His hand curled possessively around her bottom. “We’ll worry later about what’s good for us.”
The little sanity Lucky had left acknowledged the temporary nature of what he proposed, admonished her to pull away and demand he leave. What was the point of falling even more deeply in love with a man she couldn’t have?
But it was Christmas, a magical night when anything could happen.
Knocking his hat off, she threaded her fingers through his short straight hair and her tongue met his in a passionate kiss, a kiss that held nothing back, that said everything she couldn’t.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he told her, his teeth glinting in a devilish grin. Then he swung her up, cradling her against his chest, kicked the door open wider and carried her into the house.
“What about your truck?” she asked when he paused to close the door behind them.
“I don’t know. Ask me again when I can think of something besides you.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“WHY AREN’T YOU CLOSER to your brothers?”
Reluctantly, Lucky roused herself from dozing contentedly on Mike’s bare chest. The room was cool because she liked it that way at night. Typically, she burrowed beneath her down comforter and a couple of old quilts to create a warm cocoon. But her bed had never been more comfortable or warmer than it was now, with Mike in it. “I admire my brothers, but—” she hesitated, searching for a diplomatic way to state the situation “—they understand each other better than they understand me.”
“What’s not to understand?” His fingers skimmed her hair lightly.
“Don’t you find me wildly complex?” She was teasing, hoping to distract him from his serious tone as well as the bent of his questions, but it didn’t work.
“You are wildly complex. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’d cut off your nose to spite your face if you thought it might salvage your precious pride—something I’m too practical to understand.” He pulled the blankets higher. “But I already know that. What I don’t understand is why your brothers aren’t taking better care of you.”
She rolled her eyes, even though she was still lying on his chest and knew he couldn’t see her do it. “Would you quit it? I’ve been taking care of myself since I was eighteen. Actually, I was taking care of myself long before that.”
“Still, they’ve let you down.”
“It’s late. Aren’t you tired?”
“You don’t want to talk about this?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Our families are our families. I don’t want to discuss yours, either.”
His hands climbed up her back, kneading the muscles that had tensed in the last few minutes, willing her to relax. “I can see not wanting to talk about mine,” he said. “But I don’t understand why Sean and Kyle left you here alone on Christmas. It makes me angry.”
“I told them I’d met a friend, okay? I didn’t want to go to Washington.” She started to shift away, but his arm tightened around her.
“Don’t withdraw. We can do more than make love, can’t we?”
“If you want to talk, we can talk about other stuff.” She loathed the idea of describing her strained relationship with her brothers because it would lead to the past, which would lead to her mother and the way Red had affected each of their lives. Lucky both loved and hated her mother, and trying to sift through those conflicting emotions was too painful. Especially with Mike, who saw only her mother’s bad side, who could never understand the complexities of loving a mother like Red.
“Other stuff?” he repeated.
“Yeah.”
“Like the weather? We can talk about that, right? How ’bout the progress of the repairs? Is that superficial enough?”
Pushing away, she sat up. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I just need to understand some things.”
She glared at him. “What things?”
He regarded her evenly, the seriousness of his expression plainly visible in the silver moonlight falling gently through the window. She’d thought the edge in her voice might make him back off, but he only seemed more determined. “I want to know why you’ve hung on to this old place, for one. I also want to know what you did during the six years you were gone, what you plan to do with the next six. And I
want to know why you’ve never been with another man and can’t trust anyone enough to lose the wariness that insulates you from everyone and everything.”
Whoa, this was more than she’d expected. Panic welled up inside her. She was in love with Mike. She knew that, had always known on some level, probably because she’d been in love with him almost as long as she could remember. But he was asking too much. In order to survive the inevitable, when loyalty to his family overcame his interest in her, she needed to keep her most tender self—her thoughts and feelings and painful memories—from him. “Tonight’s been fun, but I think it’s time for you to go,” she said.
He didn’t move. “You can’t manage it, huh?”
The challenge he tossed out provoked her, but she couldn’t answer. Tears began to blur her vision. Why wouldn’t he accept what they had right here, right now, and let the rest go? It had been so peaceful in the aftermath of their lovemaking….
“I’d like to hear how you felt about Morris,” he said softly. “Why you didn’t come to his funeral.”
At the mention of Morris’s name, a mutinous tear slipped down Lucky’s cheek. Cursing her own weakness, she prayed Mike wouldn’t see it, but she knew he had when he reached up and wiped it away.
“Come on, Lucky,” he coaxed. “Open up.”
She struggled to remain defiant and unbending. But her emotions were getting the best of her. And Mike was pulling her to him, putting his arms around her, kissing her temple, making it that much harder to hold everything inside.
“It’s okay,” he said as her tears dropped onto his chest. “It’s just the two of us.”
She listened to his heartbeat. She could take Mike into her bed because making love with him was simply the physical expression of what she’d always felt. Talking about the past, bringing up issues and feelings that hurt to even think about, was much more difficult.
He was waiting, letting the power of his expectation work on her….
Fine, she decided. If he wanted to see the ugly truth, she’d show it to him.
Drawing a deep breath, she started talking. “I remember hearing the bed banging against the wall in my mother’s room. I hated that sound. I used to turn the television up so loud it echoed through the whole house.”