One Step Away: Once Upon a Proposal

by Sherryl Woods

  “Is this right?” Chelsea asked, her gray eyes fastened on Beth’s face as her fingers fumbled with the hook.

  “Exactly right,” she answered.

  “I got an A in school today,” Chelsea confided. “My teacher said I’m the very best speller she’s ever seen.”

  “That’s wonderful! Your father will be really proud.”

  “Maybe he’ll take me for pizza tonight.”

  “Maybe,” Beth agreed.

  “You could come, too,” she said shyly. “If you want.”

  Beth’s heart slammed against her ribs at the first tiny gesture of friendship Chelsea had ever offered. “We’ll see,” she said, her voice choked.

  “Don’t you like pizza?” Chelsea asked, studying her intently.

  “It’s not that.”

  Before she could explain, though, Chelsea’s eyes filled with tears as she jumped up. “It’s me, isn’t it? You just don’t want to be with me. You’re just like my mommy. She couldn’t wait to leave me.”

  She moved so fast, Beth couldn’t catch her. Her heart aching, she searched the house room by room, trying not to alarm the housekeeper in the process. Finally, downstairs again, she noticed that the back door was ajar.

  At that point, sheer panic and instinct took over. Running outside, she followed the tiny footprints through the snow until she came to the pond. Chelsea was standing at the edge, her expression forlorn, tears still tracking down her cheeks. Without a coat, she was shivering violently.

  Beth took her own jacket and wrapped it around her, then knelt down in front of her. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I never, ever meant to make you think I didn’t like you.”

  “But you don’t, do you? You never want to be with me.”

  “Darling, it’s far more complicated than that. And it doesn’t have anything to do with you. It has to do with something that happened a long time ago.”

  Chelsea watched her with solemn eyes. “With another little girl?”

  Beth nodded. “And a boy.”

  “Did you go away and leave them?”

  The painful question cut right through her. “I did, but not because I didn’t love them.”

  “Why did you go away, then?”

  “Because they didn’t love me,” she finally admitted with a sigh. Before she could reveal any more to a child far too young to understand the details of what had happened, she added briskly, “Now, quick, let’s get you back inside before you catch cold.”

  Chelsea tucked a hand in Beth’s as they walked back to the house. “Beth?”

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “I really miss my mommy.”

  Tears stung Beth’s eyes. “I know you do, but I’m sure you’ll get to see her really, really soon. In the meantime, I know she misses you just as much as you miss her.”

  “I don’t think so,” Chelsea said with a resigned sigh. “She almost never, ever calls me.” She turned a hopeful look on Beth. “Do you think maybe she’s lost the phone number?”

  “I’ll bet that’s it,” Beth said. “Maybe your daddy can call her tonight and remind her. Would you like me to ask him to do that?”

  “Would you?”

  “I promise,” she said.

  Back inside, she made hot chocolate for the two of them and put some of the cookies Delores had baked on a plate. By then Chelsea’s color was better and she had stopped shivering, but a familiar silence had fallen between the two of them. This time, though, Beth felt certain there was less tension in it.

  That was the way they were when Ken came in.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Chelsea said as nonchalantly as if this was the scene he found every day when he came in. “Beth made hot chocolate. Want some?”

  His gaze pinned on Beth’s face, he nodded. “Hot chocolate sounds terrific. It’s cold outside.”

  “I know. I ran out without my coat, but Beth came after me and she gave me hers.”

  Beth winced at the innocent revelation. “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ll bet.” He looked at Chelsea. “Why don’t you take your snack up to your room and watch TV for a little while before dinner.”

  When Chelsea had gone, he sat down across from Beth, his hands clenched, his expression grim.

  “I think we’d better talk about it,” he said.

  “She was upset. She ran out without her coat. I found her right afterward. She couldn’t have been out there more than five minutes.”

  “I don’t care about that. Obviously, she’s fine.” His gaze captured hers and held. “I hate the distance between us. I hate the distance between you and Chelsea. Do you realize that this is the first time I have ever seen the two of you together?”

  “We’re here in the house almost every afternoon.”

  “But you’re not talking. She tiptoes around you and you ignore her.”

  “I wasn’t aware that I’d been hired as a baby-sitter,” she said, her voice tight.

  Ken sighed. “That’s not the point and you know it. There is something about being around Chelsea that you find upsetting. Please tell me what it is.” His gaze was unrelenting. “Please.”

  His voice was quiet, downright gentle in fact, but there was no mistaking his determination. Beth tried to evade that gaze, but he touched her chin and forced her to face him.

  “What is this all about, Beth? Whatever it is, it can’t be so terrible that you can’t share it with me.”

  Maybe it was because her nerves were ragged from the days of tension. Maybe it was because she wanted so desperately for everything to be all right. Maybe it was because she genuinely believed what he was saying, that he would understand.

  And so, she told him. About her marriage to Peter. About his two handsome children. And about her terrible failure to make it all work.

  “They didn’t just dislike me,” she said, her eyes dry. She was sure there were no tears left to shed over the tragedy of it. “They hated me. They wanted their mother, not a poor substitute. No matter what I did, it was never good enough. I failed Peter and I failed them.”

  She faced him and injected a note of pure bravado into her voice. “So, as you can see, obviously I’m not anyone’s idea of the perfect mother.” She said it with a cavalier shrug, but Ken didn’t seem to be buying her act.

  “Oh, baby,” he whispered, and pulled her close as a fresh batch of tears spilled down her cheeks and soaked his shirt. “Don’t you see, that’s nonsense. You’re warm and generous and caring. Any child would be lucky to have you for a mother. Just look at what happened here this afternoon.”

  She sniffed. “Right. I upset Chelsea so badly she went tearing outside, where she could have caught pneumonia.”

  “She didn’t look traumatized when I came home. How do you suppose that happened?”

  “Hot chocolate can smooth over a lot.”

  “If that were all it took, wouldn’t you have used that on your stepchildren?” he said dryly.

  “I suppose so.”

  “Look, I’m sure Chelsea’s behavior since her arrival has done absolutely nothing to reassure you, but she’s scared, too. She’s afraid to reach out to someone who’ll turn around and abandon her the way her mother did. I’ve probably been more tolerant than I should have been, but I assure you it won’t be that way forever. I’m feeling my way as a single parent. It would make things a lot easier if I had you by my side, telling me if I’m making the right choices.”

  “I’m the last person to be giving anyone advice about parenting.”

  “It’s not advice I want, so much as moral support.”

  “But Chelsea and I...” She held her hands up in a helpless gesture.

  “I don’t expect you and Chelsea to get along perfectly. Haven’t you noticed that there are plenty of times w
hen she and I don’t get along worth a damn?”

  “But you’re her father.”

  “That doesn’t come with guarantees or instructions.” He tilted her chin up. “Try. Please. I know it’s a risk. I know how fragile your self-confidence must be. But wouldn’t the payoff be worth it?”

  “Payoff,” she repeated slowly.

  “We might turn out to be a real family. That’s what I want,” he insisted. “More than anything.”

  A family, Beth repeated to herself. If she searched her heart, wasn’t that what she really desperately wanted, as well?

  Chapter 14

  Delores had nailed it, Ken thought later that night. Once again his ex-mother-in-law had seen a situation with far clearer vision than his own. She had picked up on Beth’s uneasiness around Chelsea immediately and labeled it anxiety rather than distaste. He’d been skeptical that a woman as strong as Beth could be controlled by fear of anything, especially a little girl. If only he’d listened to Delores, he might have solved this problem much sooner.

  Still, now that he recognized that Beth’s behavior was the result of something from her past, not dislike of Chelsea or children in general, he could do something about it. He could begin to reassure her that loving him and Chelsea would not be a repeat of the past.

  Suddenly he felt free to allow his own growing feelings for her to flourish again, after days of trying to talk them out of existence. He had hated the sense of powerlessness her behavior had instilled in him. Now, at last, he was back in control.

  Unfortunately, he doubted that Beth was going to be easily persuaded that her fears were groundless. Others had done that, had convinced her to ignore her instincts, and look what had happened to her first marriage. Now she would be a much tougher sell, much slower to believe that time could correct today’s problems between Chelsea and any woman who wasn’t her mother.

  At the same time, he recognized that Chelsea could hardly be won over by a woman who wouldn’t dare any overture that might be rebuffed. Given the nature of their fears, they might very well have faced a stalemate.

  Fortunately, though, Ken had had a lot of experience at faking out defensive backs on some of the best teams in the NFL. Surely he could pull off a few sneaky maneuvers to allow one terrified lady and one pint-size hellion to discover what he already knew—they desperately needed each other.

  And he needed them both, more and more with each passing day. The two of them had made his transition from star quarterback to private citizen an easy one. He had found all sorts of quiet satisfaction in raising his daughter, even when she was at her worst. He had found another sort of contentment entirely with Beth. Those discoveries made him more determined than ever to work things out. He was falling in love with her and he knew that what they had was based on a solid foundation, the kind of foundation that could last a lifetime.

  The truth of it was, if he hadn’t believed in his own future with Beth with all his heart, he wouldn’t have dared to set her and his daughter up for the eventual pain of another separation. His love, which had taken no one more by surprise than him, was growing stronger—strong enough to battle whatever lay ahead.

  * * *

  Over the next couple of weeks, Ken’s campaign strategy was worthy of Super Bowl play. He had discovered on that fateful afternoon when Beth had finally revealed her painful past to him that she and Chelsea were far more likely to reach out to each other, if they weren’t under his watchful eye.

  He changed the housekeeper’s hours, giving her most afternoons off. He suddenly found a dozen excuses to go into town every day about three o’clock, leaving Beth to welcome Chelsea home from school. After the first day or two, Beth no longer protested. The wariness began to fade.

  Two or three times a week he suggested dinner, a movie, a shopping excursion. He made the suggestions to Chelsea, then casually extended the invitation to Beth, as well. She could hardly refuse with Chelsea’s solemn gray eyes pinned on her. Ken sensed that with every passing day, Beth was less inclined to turn them down, that in fact she was beginning to look forward to sharing these times with them.

  The weekdays, as a result of his careful timing and nonthreatening suggestions, were easy. It was weekend outings that required incredibly deft planning, especially as the holiday season approached and Christmas festivities began in earnest in Berry Ridge. Beth, it seemed, was involved in everything, quite possibly, he guessed, to keep the loneliness at bay.

  At any rate, if he wanted to take the two of them out to a movie in a neighboring town, he had to be clever and quick about it. He discovered if he found an antique store in between and assured Beth that he really needed her input on some piece of furniture he’d spotted for the house, she was always more ready to accept. As a result, he spent hours during the week hunting down such stores and furniture and found, to his amazement, that it was fun. There was no way Beth could mistake his enthusiasm for guile.

  Then, once they’d settled on whether to buy the chair or table or cabinet, it was easy enough to suggest that they go on to lunch and then a movie or perhaps Christmas shopping or a visit to Santa.

  Pretty soon Beth was suggesting outings that Chelsea might enjoy—a visit to a woman who made quilts, an excursion to see apple cider pressed, a drive into Woodstock where there were four churchbells made by Paul Revere, a Christmas bazaar, an old-fashioned community potpie dinner in a neighboring town, a night of caroling.

  He saw Beth slowly healing before his very eyes. She seemed to have an endless supply of patience for Chelsea’s inquisitiveness. She no longer looked stung by an innocently sharp remark or a sullen expression. And he found in her courage yet another reason for his growing feelings for her.

  As Beth’s anxiety lessened, the bond between her and his daughter grew stronger each day. Giving them the space to find their own way, he rejoiced when Chelsea automatically slipped her mittened hand into Beth’s. He took tremendous satisfaction when Beth instinctively knelt down and tucked Chelsea’s scarf around her neck and buttoned her coat more tightly against the ever-more frigid air. Beth was, as he had always guessed, a nurturing woman, and now that side of her had a chance to flourish, surrounding his daughter in much-needed feminine warmth.

  As the icy reserve began to thaw between the two females in his life, Ken might have felt left out of their laughter, jealous of their silly banter, envious of the quiet times they shared over hot chocolate and one of Chelsea’s favorite books or puzzles.

  Instead, he discovered that even when he was excluded, he was a sucker for their tender, warm rapport. He basked in their genuine enjoyment of the time they spent together. And as he closely observed this sexy, radiant, sensitive woman, his own hormones blazed hotter than the wood stove he’d installed in his kitchen.

  Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult to seduce a woman with a seven-year-old chaperon constantly along. He weighed the importance of the bond between Chelsea and Beth against his own needs and told himself he’d just have to keep sight of his goal, and take a lot of very cold showers.

  He also had a plan that, with any luck, would bring an end to this self-enforced abstinence. He stood in the doorway of his den one night and watched Beth as she went over the last of the invoices. The house was essentially finished, the wood floors polished to a gleam, the molding repaired and painted, the drapes hung. He almost regretted that the happy chaos was over. He wondered if she felt the same way or if her sense of pride in her accomplishment made up for any regrets that she was through with her renovations of her beloved Grady place.

  Ken smiled. She still called it that, correcting herself in midphrase with a rueful grin. To her, it would always be the Grady place, even if he could someday persuade her to call it home.

  He looked up and caught her watching him.

  “What are you smiling about?” she asked.

  “You.”
r />   She sat back and regarded him warily. “I see. And what about me has you smiling?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea. I just like looking at you, I suppose.” He gestured toward the invoices. “Just about done?”

  “Yep. The last of the bills are paid. I told you you’d be settled before Christmas.”

  “The job’s not quite over,” he informed her.

  “Oh?”

  “We have holiday decorating to do and entertaining. I’m at a loss.”

  She shook her head. “Ken Hutchinson, you’ve never been at a loss in your life. Who are you trying to kid?”

  “You don’t believe me?” he said, injecting a wounded note into his voice.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Okay, take a Christmas tree, for instance. Where do I get one?”

  “There’s a small lot by town hall or you can go into the woods and cut one down.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I dig one up, then replant it in my yard after the holiday.”

  “Ecology-minded. I like that. Where do we go?”

  “We?”

  “Sure. You don’t expect me to do this on my own, do you? We’ll go on Saturday. Chelsea can come, too. She’ll love it.” He saw temptation written all over her face and knew that he had won yet another battle. “Eight o’clock?”

  “Eight?” she said doubtfully.

  “You know perfectly well you’re up by dawn. We’ll have breakfast first at Lou’s,” he said decisively. “Pancakes and warm maple syrup.”

  She laughed. “How do you manage to make food sound so seductive?”

  “It’s your wild imagination,” he retorted. “First thing you know, you’re picturing the two of us sharing those pancakes in bed.”

  “Now that is a thought,” she admitted. Her voice was surprisingly and deliberately provocative and sent his pulse racing.

  “Saturday,” he repeated in a suddenly choked voice, then ducked out of the room before he was tempted to make love to her right there in the middle of his big, solid desk.