A Daughter for Christmas

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A Daughter for Christmas Page 14

by Margaret Daley


  “I can’t back down. I told her she had to finish her history before she could do anything else and that includes participating in preparing the boxes.”

  He framed her face, again acknowledging the danger of touching her but not able to resist. “Let me take over. When she’s through, we’ll come into the kitchen to help. Please, Rachel. I would like to do this.”

  Covering his hands on her, she sighed. “How can I refuse? I don’t have the energy to argue and maybe a different approach will work.”

  “Thanks.” He leaned toward her and brushed his lips across hers.

  The brief contact bolted such an awareness through him that it robbed him of thought. His mind blanked as he pulled back and stared at Rachel, the glow from her white Christmas lights stressing the flush to her cheeks, the surprise in her eyes.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know. It just seemed right at the time.”

  “With Taylor’s paternity up in the air, it probably isn’t a smart move.”

  “Shh. Remember we decided to forget that until after the holidays.”

  He moved again to sample her lips, slipping his arms around her to bring her up against him. She went into his embrace willingly, returning his kiss with fervor. His heart thudded against his rib cage, and he was sure she felt each beat.

  When she finally parted, laying her forehead against his, she murmured, “You know this complicates everything.”

  “For once, I’m tired of thinking things through first. I want to enjoy your company with no thoughts of the future.”

  “Seize the moment.”

  “Why not?”

  She inhaled a deep breath. “Well, I must say I feel much better than when I stomped out here to cool down after fighting with Taylor.”

  Reluctantly, because he wanted to continue holding her, he released her and rose. “I’ll go work with her for a while.”

  “Those are the sweetest words you could say. Taylor and I need a break from schoolwork. I knew this might be a problem with homeschooling, especially with Taylor’s lack of discipline and focus when it comes to academic work. But there are times I have absolutely no patience with my daughter.”

  “Is she in the dining room?”

  “Yep. The boys are in the den. There’s no way she can work in there when they’re in the room. That’s another problem I didn’t think through. Keeping them occupied and Taylor focused. I can’t be in two places at once, but there are days I need to be.”

  Max entered the house and headed for the dining room, where he found Taylor staring off into space, her features molded into a frown. She tapped her pencil against her history book.

  “Do you need any help?”

  Taylor didn’t respond. He moved to the table and took a chair near her. She blinked and finally looked at him.

  “Need any help?”

  She sighed heavily. “Yeah, talk Mom out of making me do this assignment.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I don’t understand why I have to learn history. What good is it? I can’t change it. It’s about a bunch of people who are dead. Nicholas can study it all he wants, but I don’t want to.”

  “I remember saying that very thing to my parents when I was growing up. It didn’t help. They still insisted I do my best in history. And you know when I quit fighting it, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “I don’t care about the Revolutionary War.” She chewed on the end of her pencil.

  “It’s a good way to see how our country started and why. When I see what our ancestors went through so that we could have all our freedoms, it made me appreciate how fortunate I was to live in America.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all of that.”

  “There are some good video series about some of our founding fathers—George Washington, John Adams. Maybe if you watch some of them, you’ll get a feel for what those men were like. That might help you understand the times and what they were trying to do. I can say something about that to your mom if you want me to.”

  Taylor’s expression glowed as if she switched on the Christmas lights. “Videos. Yeah. Anything is better than reading this boring stuff about battles.”

  “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t read it.”

  Her features morphed into a frown again. “Did you know that Mom wants me to read to the old folks at the nursing home?”

  “And you don’t want to?”

  “I can’t read out loud to others! I make mistakes. I…”

  “Did you tell her?”

  “Yes. She told me everyone makes mistakes.”

  “But to you, reading out loud is a big deal?” His gut fisted at the memory of how he’d felt.

  “You bet. That’s why I hated school. Some teachers made me read out loud, and I heard some of the kids snicker when I did, so after a while, I refused. I got a detention from one teacher because I wouldn’t.”

  He’d been in the same situation as a child. He remembered dread making him physically sick, especially in one particular class. “I can understand.”

  “Did you feel that way?”

  “Yep.”

  “Did you ever get over it?”

  “To a certain extent but not totally. I ended up practicing at first by myself then later with my mom and younger brother. Once I felt comfortable with them I was better. At least I didn’t panic when I was asked to read out loud. I used to break out in a cold sweat.”

  “You did? So do I.”

  “If you ever want to read to me, I’d be glad to listen.”

  “Maybe.” She began tapping the pencil against the book again. “What do I tell Mom? I want to volunteer but not for that.”

  “Ask your mom for other suggestions for volunteering. I think she just wanted you to get a lot of practice reading.”

  “That’s practically all I do. Read science. Read stories for English. Read history. Maybe that’s why I like math. Not as much reading.”

  He pointed toward her history chapter. “What do you have left to do?”

  “Mom wants me to summarize what I read. I’m thinking of making a list of battles. That’s about all that has happened.”

  “Let me see. This first section is about Valley Forge. What’s important about that?”

  “It was cold.”

  “True. What else?”

  “I don’t remember. It’s been a while since I read it.”

  “You might want to read a section, write what was important then move on to the next part.”

  Taylor huffed and slid the book closer to herself.

  While Max waited, he heard the front door open and saw Rachel come into the house. She smiled at him and strolled toward the hallway that led to the kitchen. The warmth in her expression spread throughout him. He shouldn’t have kissed her earlier—twice. She was right. It complicated everything. He didn’t want Rachel to get the wrong idea. His experience with marriage had been bad. Ever since he was a child and struggled with reading, failure didn’t sit well with him, and his marriage to Alicia had been a failure. But there was something about Rachel that made him forget all that when he was with her.

  Rachel looked toward Will standing on a chair at the counter. “Go easy on stirring the Chex mix.”

  “It’s ready. I did good.” He grinned, showing his teeth.

  “And I appreciate it. Why don’t you help Max and Sam fill the boxes with food.”

  Will hopped down from the chair and raced into the dining room where Max and Sam were.

  “Taylor, can you come in here and put the mix into plastic bags?” Rachel cut her fudge she’d made earlier into pieces.

  “Mom, Sam is eating a cookie Granny gave us for the boxes,” Taylor said as she came into the kitchen.

  Max stuck his head into the doorway. “I’m taking care of it. We’re almost through in here.”

  “Great.” Rachel turned toward her daughter. “When you finish with that, take the boys into the den and make the cards, then we can deliver the packages
tonight.”

  “Max said something about stopping and getting ice cream afterward. Can we?”

  “But it’s below freezing outside.”

  “So? I’m still gonna enjoy it.”

  “Fine.” Rachel took the fudge and added the pieces to the goody plates she was preparing for the food boxes.

  Ten minutes later, the last items were ready for the gifts to the needy families. While she took the plates into the dining room, Taylor brought in the bags of Chex mix.

  “Let’s go make the cards,” her daughter said, corralling her two younger brothers toward the den.

  “This is it.” Rachel placed the goodies onto the top of the items in each box.

  Max followed behind her and set the plastic bags alongside the plate and closed up the top flaps.

  At the last one she noticed an envelope tucked down inside the cartons. “What’s this?” She slipped it out and held it up.

  “Uh…” Max busied himself sticking one lid under the other to keep it down.

  “Max?”

  “Okay, it’s just a little money to help them get what else they need for Christmas.” He looked her right in the eyes. “If you can make up these gift boxes for the families, I can donate some money.” A challenge rang in his voice.

  “I think that’s wonderful. Several of the families go to my church, and I know they could use any help they get.”

  “Good because I’ve enjoyed doing this.”

  She shifted toward him, not realizing he was so close behind her. She bumped into him and his hands came out to steady her. His fingers on her arms, he tugged her nearer. He dipped his head toward her, the scent of his peppermint toothpaste teasing her senses, the feel of his fingers on her skin searing into her.

  “I’m glad you’re having fun.” The sound of her voice barely carried, a breathless quality to it.

  “Thanks for including me in this—family activity.”

  His emphasis on the word family should have sent alarm bells clanging in her mind, but she liked the picture that formed in her thoughts. She wanted him to kiss her again. That did make her pause. Everything was moving so fast with Max. Was it because he could be Taylor’s natural father? Was it because her boys needed a man around? Those weren’t good reasons to pursue a relationship—not in the long run.

  “I told you I would show you what the holidays mean to me. It’s helping others. Having family around. Celebrating the birth of Christ.”

  He grinned. “Your concept of Christmas is so much nicer than Mr. Olson’s.” He cupped her face. “Did I tell you he asked me where my snowman was?”

  “No, what did you tell him?”

  “I told him it was too hot for the snowman on the street. The glare from all the lights melted him.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think he appreciated the look I gave him. He didn’t stay long but hurried down the street.” His palms slid back until his fingers threaded their way through her hair.

  She was the one who wanted to melt at his caress. Her anticipation heightened with every second, his mouth inching closer to hers.

  “We’re ready to…”

  Rachel leaped back at the same time as Max did. They both swung around and faced Taylor coming into the room with her brothers right behind her. Her daughter’s eyes grew round for a few seconds, then her mouth curled up in a huge smile.

  “Are you two ready, or do you want us to go back in the den and make more cards?”

  The heat from her blush singed Rachel’s cheeks. “No, we should go.” Was that her voice that squeaked?

  “Yeah, it’s getting late.” Max hefted a box. “Where do I take this?”

  “In the back of my SUV. It should hold these. Will and Sam, you two bring the cards.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Rachel drove down the first street where they were making a delivery. “Okay, Taylor, you know what to do. It looks like the Wilsons are home.”

  Her daughter climbed from the car parked on the street and grabbed a box from the back, then crossed several yards to the house two down.

  “What’s she doing?” Max craned his neck to get a good look.

  “She’ll ring the bell then run. We don’t want them to know who left them a box. Once a family caught Taylor before she could get away. They invited us in and gushed over what we’d brought. I’d rather the gift be from a secret friend. It’s not the same.” As Taylor raced for the SUV, she added, “She enjoys this part the most.”

  Taylor wrenched open the door and dived into the car. Rachel sped away as the front door opened at the Wilsons’ place. Will and Sam giggled.

  “You fooled them, sissy.” Sam gave Taylor a high five.

  Max threw Taylor a glance. “Interesting technique. Drive-by gift giving.”

  “It’s a Howard tradition. Just wait until you see some of our others.” Rachel turned the corner on to the street of the second stop.

  “Can’t wait. What are you going to do? Commando caroling?”

  Chapter Eleven

  The next afternoon, Taylor sat in the dining room, working on her reading. Suddenly, she stopped in midsentence and peered at Rachel. “I don’t want to read to the people at the nursing home. I can’t. I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be. I’d rather practice with you or even Max. He understands. Did you know he had trouble with reading when he was a kid?”

  “You like him?” She was almost afraid to ask the question because she didn’t want to feel as if this was a competition between her and Max over Taylor. But if he was her father, it could turn into that. Taylor was her daughter no matter what a test said.

  “Yes. We’ve talked about some of the things he did to learn to read better. He’s a doctor. If he can do it, I can, too. I don’t want to be dumb.”

  “You aren’t dumb, honey.” Rachel put her arms around her daughter and hugged her. “I’ve noticed you’re working hard at reading. I’ve seen a big improvement in the last month.”

  “Max got me to thinking when he said commando caroling. What if we sing for them? We could start in the recreation room for the ones who can come there and then go to the rooms of the ones who can’t. We could get Aunt Jordan, Uncle Zachary, Nana and whoever else in the family that wants to do it.”

  “That sounds great. After we finish here, you can make some calls and see who wants to participate.”

  “I’m sure Max will. He told me he likes to sing.”

  “You two talk a lot.”

  “Yeah, I usually see him when I go to Dr. Reynolds’s science class. In fact, Max is thinking of offering a class for others in the homeschooling program on Saturday after the New Year. Something to do with the environment. If he does, I’d like to do that.”

  Max would be here in Tallgrass one way or another even if he wasn’t Taylor’s father. But he was so positive he was. She needed to decide what she was going to do when they found out for sure in a couple of weeks.

  “Are you interested in the environment?” Rachel hooked her hair behind her ears.

  “In Sunday-school class we’ve been talking about being caretakers of what God has given us. That got me to thinking. I want to do my part.”

  “You don’t have to wait until Max’s class. You could start now. Maybe come up with ways this family can be green. What do you think?”

  “I like that. I could do some research about what a family can do.”

  “That would be a great project. We could work together, get things that Will and Sam can do, too.”

  “I can ask Max, too. The reason he said something about an environment class is because he’s interested in it. He’s been doing a lot of reading on it. Maybe he can share some of it with me. Do you think he would?” Excitement lit Taylor’s face.

  Her daughter’s expression was contagious, and Rachel had Max to thank for it. “Yes, I’m sure he would.”

  Taylor cocked her head to the side. “You like him, too.”

  It wasn’t a questio
n, but Rachel murmured, “Yes,” anyway. She realized like was too mild a word to describe the feelings she was developing toward Max. And that thought panicked her. Max was here for Taylor, not her and certainly not to have a relationship with a woman who would only be interested in marriage. On a number of occasions he’d talked about his previous marriage and how he didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

  “I saw you two the other night. It looked like you were gonna kiss and you’re not wearing your wedding ring anymore.”

  “How do you feel about me taking it off?”

  Taylor’s teeth dug into her lower lip as she stared at a spot behind Rachel. “I miss Dad a lot. But…”

  Her daughter’s voice came to a grinding halt, and she dropped her head as though to shield her expression from Rachel. “But what, hon?”

  “Dad never had much time for me. He was always work ing. Now, it’s too late for him to spend any time with me. I was so angry when he died. Now, I’m just sad.”

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. He was doing what he thought he should—helping his patients, providing for his family. I think he always thought he would have the time later. And later never came.”

  “Pastor John says we need to live in the present.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. We don’t know what the future holds for us.”

  “So, yes, I’m fine with you taking off your wedding ring. I know you loved Dad.”

  “I won’t forget him. I loved him very much.”

  Taylor’s eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I know and so did I.” She threw her arms around Rachel and squeezed hard. “I love you, Mom. I didn’t tell Dad enough.”

  “I love you, honey.” And I’m falling in love with Max.

  “That was awesome, everyone. I think we’re ready for tomorrow.” Taylor stood in front of the caroling group in the den. “We’ll meet at the nursing home at two. Wear Christmas colors. Aunt Jordan, you’ll have the cookies made for us to hand out?”

  “Yep. Zachary and Nicholas are helping me tonight when we go home.” Jordan settled her hand on her son’s shoulder while Zachary pressed her against his side.

  “Great. Granny, you’ll have the fudge?”

 

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