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Silver Christmas

Page 2

by Helen Scott Taylor


  He knew that. He regularly Googled her name, had seen the post about her graduating from college at the top of her class, read the blogs she posted about her work on the charity website, and watched the fifteen-minute video she'd made about the animal orphanage where she worked as a wildlife vet—numerous times. But he wasn't going to admit he'd been checking up on her.

  In every photograph and the video, she'd still had long hair, and he hadn't seen any reports of her being shot.

  "When?"

  Jennifer closed her eyes as if thinking was a huge effort. "Four months ago," she said finally, a fine tremor passing through her limbs.

  Owen rubbed her cold hands between his and made a decision. He wasn't sending her away like this. He had to take her into the warm kitchen and get some food inside her.

  "Come on." He put an arm around her waist and helped her to her feet.

  "Where are we going?"

  "In the house."

  "No." She stopped as he slid open the goat shed door and shook her head. "You need to break the news about me to Chloe gently. I don't want to crash back into her life, looking a mess like this."

  "Where are you staying?" Maybe he could drive her there and make sure she ate something.

  "I'm not sure yet. I haven't had a chance to find anywhere."

  Owen clenched his jaw. That settled it. Chloe was resilient; she'd cope with the surprise. He wasn't about to let Jennifer leave if she didn't have anywhere to go.

  He kept his arm around her as they crossed the yard and entered the back door. Then he led her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table for her. She sat carefully as if she were in pain.

  "Are you sure you shouldn't still be in the hospital?"

  "No. They released me yesterday."

  "Yesterday!" Owen cursed to himself, silently this time. "You should be resting at home."

  "I needed to see Chloe."

  She averted her gaze, and he busied himself making a fresh pot of tea and pouring her a mug. He set it in front of her and sat opposite, across the table.

  Somehow the strangeness of her return was already fading, and he was falling back into the closeness they'd once had. Although every time he glanced at her, he was jerked back to the present because she was so changed. This world-weary woman in front of him was very different from the bubbly young beauty full of big ideas who had stolen his heart.

  He reached across the table and touched her fingers where they clasped the mug. "I'll go and tell Chloe you're here. We'll be down in ten minutes, and we can all have dinner together." He poked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the stove. "Mrs. Tiptree has left us a pot roast."

  "You still have Mrs. Tiptree come in?" Jennifer gave him a weak smile. "She must be in her eighties now."

  Owen simply smiled and nodded, relieved to see a little color back in Jennifer's cheeks. She'd frightened him out in the barn. He sat for a moment, aware of the silence above, wondering what Chloe was doing, wondering how he would break this life-changing news to his daughter.

  "While you're upstairs, I'll freshen up. All right if I use the downstairs bathroom?"

  "Of course."

  He rose and she followed suit, clutching her handbag on its long strap around her body.

  Owen left Jennifer in the kitchen, her presence in the house dominating his awareness, even when she was out of sight.

  He went upstairs, along the corridor to the end, and pushed open Chloe's door. She was lying prone on the bed, knees bent, feet clad in striped socks waving in the air. Feverishly she worked at a drawing pad with her crayons. Beside her, Paddy lay on the comforter, stretched out with his head rested on his front paws.

  "Hey, cocoa puff. What're you drawing?"

  "Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus. I want to show my teacher I'm going to be really good when I play Mary in the nativity play, so I'm drawing her a picture."

  Owen couldn't fathom what drawing well had to do with being able to act, but he smiled and nodded. He sat on the bed beside Paddy and stroked a hand over his daughter's head, leaning in to examine her picture, his mind busy, turning over how to break the news.

  From when Chloe was tiny, he'd spoken about her mother, told her Jennifer was a vet who did something very important. He'd hoped to give Chloe a sense of connection to her absent mother, a sense of identity. So when other children talked about their mothers, Chloe had something to say.

  He'd expected Jennifer to come back to them once she graduated. It had been a shock to discover she'd gone to Africa, but he'd never given up hope. He'd shown Chloe the pictures of Jennifer and the short video on the animal charity website, priming her to meet her mother, sure it would happen—although he'd never dreamed it would take ten years.

  And now that day had come, yet it was nothing like he'd imagined. He'd visualized Jennifer returning like a successful movie starlet, her long blond hair gleaming in the summer sun, her skin tanned.

  Owen ran his hand over his daughter's silky dark hair affectionately, desperate not to hurt her and unsure of what the future held. He couldn't deny a small corner of his heart was jealous that he'd have to give up a bit of his daughter's love to Jennifer. He was so used to being everything to her.

  "I have a surprise for you," he said finally.

  She stopped and gave him her full attention, a frown painting fine lines on her smooth forehead, obviously picking up on his conflicted mood. "What, Dad?"

  "Your mum has come to see us." The words that would change their lives fell from his lips as if they were any casual comment.

  Chloe stared at him for a few moments, as if she expected him to say, Tricked you. I was only joking.

  Then she moved, erupted from the bed as if propelled from beneath, and she was out the bedroom door, charging down the hall, her feet thumping on the hardwood floor. Paddy shot up a moment later, nearly knocking Owen from the bed as he followed, claws scrabbling to catch up.

  Owen rose, slightly bemused by the speed of change, as if the world had suddenly tilted and he had to find his balance. Then he hurried after his daughter.

  Chapter Three

  Jennifer stared into the small mirror over the sink in the bathroom and dabbed makeup beneath her eyes to hide the shadows, and on the side of her face to hide the scars. Then she added a touch of blusher to her cheeks for some color, and finished with a stroke of mascara on her lashes.

  She'd lost her lipstick somewhere, maybe on the floor of her rental car, so she could do nothing about her pale lips. But her lips didn't matter; she wasn't going on a date. She was simply trying to look presentable for her first meeting with her daughter, something far more important than any date.

  When she was satisfied, she headed back to the kitchen to sit and take a sip of her now tepid tea. Nerves made it impossible to sit still, so she rose and paced back and forth, wringing her hands together, listening to the faint sound of Owen and Chloe's voices upstairs.

  All her insecurities flooded back as she waited. What if Chloe didn't want to see her, or didn't like her? After all, her daughter was no longer a small child who would accept her mother without judgment. Chloe would have spent years wondering at her mother's absence, years for resentment to grow. Nobody would blame a ten-year-old for being bitter and difficult under the circumstances.

  A door crashed open upstairs, and Jennifer's attention snapped back to the moment. Footsteps thundered down the stairs, and she grabbed the back of the chair where she'd sat earlier, bracing herself.

  Tall for her age, the willowy girl with long dark hair in a ponytail appeared in the doorway and halted, the black Labrador at her side. Her gaze swept over Jennifer, her eyes wide and brown—Owen's eyes. If Jennifer hadn't given birth to this child, she might doubt they were related.

  "Hello, Chloe. You look so much like your father." She could see nothing of herself in the girl's pretty face. She was a Bramwell through and through.

  "You're my mum?"

  Jennifer nodded. "Yes." She uncurled her fingers from the b
ack of the chair, stretching them to ease the ache from clutching the wood too tightly. She took a step towards Chloe and then stopped, unsure. She handled nervous animals every day and had a gift for soothing them and making them relax, but she had no idea how to approach a child.

  Owen walked up behind Chloe and rested his hands on her shoulders. He gave Jennifer a tight smile. "Shall we talk over dinner? I'll serve, if you like."

  Jennifer stood rooted to the spot as Owen passed by and clanked dishes against the granite counter. She needed to speak, yet her mind remained blank, lost in a kind of dumb wonder that the tiny baby she'd cuddled ten years ago had grown up.

  Chloe crouched and put her arm around the Labrador's neck. At last Jennifer thought of something to say. "What a lovely dog. Is he yours?"

  "Yes. This is Paddy. He's just had his first birthday."

  "He's one of the biggest Labs I've ever seen." Jennifer smiled and Chloe did too, obviously pleased with the comment. "Can I pet him?"

  When Chloe nodded, Jennifer crouched as well and ran her palm over the silky top of Paddy's head. The dog licked her wrist and wagged his tail lazily. "He's in beautiful condition. I bet you take him for lots of walks."

  "I do in the summer and on weekends. Dad takes him for walks in the winter 'cause it's dark when I get home from school."

  Jennifer nodded, relaxing now she sensed a nascent rapport between them, as fine as a spiderweb. She hoped that in time they would spin more connections and forge an unbreakable bond.

  "Dinner's on the table," Owen said.

  Jennifer rose to her feet, and Owen gestured for her to resume the seat she'd had earlier. Chloe sat opposite her, and he took the chair at the end of the table.

  Despite the delicious pot roast, Jennifer barely tasted a bite, she was so preoccupied. She had no appetite; all her senses were consumed by the wonder of her beautiful daughter's porcelain complexion and gleaming hair, as if she were falling in love.

  She watched Chloe eat heartily, her appetite obviously unaffected. An unfamiliar sense of satisfaction filled her that her daughter wasn't a fussy eater.

  "Chloe's going to play Mary in the school nativity play," Owen said.

  "Oh. That sounds fun." No, not fun. That wasn't the right word. It belittled Chloe's achievement. Should she speak to Chloe like she would an adult, or treat her like a child? Jennifer swallowed and tried to gather her thoughts. "So you enjoy school?"

  "Yes. But my favorite thing is working with animals. I want to be a veterinarian like you. Dad says I have a way with animals like you do. I'd love to go to Africa and help make sick lion cubs better like you did in your video."

  Jennifer stared at Chloe, shocked she'd seen the video the charity made, but she shouldn't be. It was out there on the Internet for anyone to find. How much did Chloe know about her? She'd assumed not much. She moved her questioning gaze to Owen, but he didn't meet her eyes.

  "Being a vet is a wonderful job." This was something marvelous she and Chloe could have in common. The thought of helping her daughter follow in her footsteps filled her with excitement. "It's tough to get accepted for that course of study, though. You'll have to work very hard to get good grades."

  "We don't need to worry about exams at the moment," Owen said, a mild rebuke in his tone. "She's not even in high school yet."

  "I decided I wanted to be a vet when I was around Chloe's age. It gave me the motivation to work my socks off to make the grades. Having a goal is a good thing, Owen."

  "She's got plenty of time to decide what she wants to do with her life. She might want to stay here and work on the farm." Owen kept an even tone, but he definitely wasn't happy.

  "I don't want to work on the farm, Dad. I want to be a vet in Africa like my mum." Chloe grinned across the table at Jennifer and she smiled back, the connection between them growing deeper by the minute.

  The guilt and sorrow had grown so heavy over the years, Jennifer had nearly crumpled beneath the weight. Now it lightened, magically dispelled by her daughter's smile.

  This was going to work out. Jennifer had no intention of taking Chloe away from Owen. That would be mean. Yet she and Chloe could be close, even if they didn't live together. Jennifer could help Chloe with her career plans and give her work experience. For a start, that was something she could hang on to.

  • • •

  Owen rarely felt frightened, but as he collected the dishes from the table after dinner and tidied up, a hollow sense of dread filled him.

  Oblivious to him, Chloe and Jennifer chatted animatedly, their words frequently punctuated with laughter as Jennifer related some of her experiences working with animals, and Chloe asked questions.

  Part of him was over the moon that Chloe got along so well with her mother. He'd wondered if Chloe might be bitter, but his daughter had the sweetest personality and didn't hold grudges. She had accepted Jennifer back in her life without reproach—or at least she had so far.

  He only wanted the best for his darling girl, and that included having a good relationship with her mother. Yet disquiet gathered inside him, building like a storm as he worried what would happen in the future. The fear that he was losing his daughter wouldn't go away.

  Of course he would never lose Chloe completely, but who knew where in the country Jennifer might end up working and living, and if she took Chloe to live with her . . .

  "Cup of tea or coffee, anyone?" Owen stretched his lips in a smile and hoped it looked genuine.

  Jennifer and Chloe paused from their conversation, and Jennifer half rose. "I'm sorry, Owen. I should have offered to help clean up."

  "No." He gestured her back into her seat. "You're our guest." Although she looked much better than she had earlier, he was very aware she was not in full health.

  He made coffee for Jennifer and himself and tea for Chloe, then set the cups on the table and rejoined them.

  The excited energy between the females was almost palpable, tingling in the air. Chloe had a permanent smile on her face, and Jennifer's blue eyes were lit from within like blue fire. She really was a strikingly attractive woman, even with her glorious golden hair shorn off.

  "In the video you had long hair," Chloe said to Jennifer, as if reading Owen's mind.

  "I thought I'd have a change," Jennifer said.

  Her slight hesitation before she replied confirmed to Owen this wasn't true.

  "Why don't you go and get your PJs on, cocoa puff?"

  "Already?" Chloe looked so deflated, he felt sorry for her.

  "It's a school day tomorrow. Brush your teeth and get changed, then you can come back down for ten minutes."

  "Okay. I'll be super quick." She dashed out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

  "Door," Owen shouted, but she was already thundering up the stairs. He rose and shut it to keep the kitchen warm before returning to the table. He cradled his cup of coffee in his hands and glanced at Jennifer. "Why did you really cut your hair short?"

  She stared into the top of her cup, and he thought she wasn't going to answer. Then she touched a hand to her head and sighed. "A bullet grazed my scalp, and they shaved off that section of hair to treat the wound. When I was transferred from the African hospital to London, I asked to have all my hair cut the same length. One of the nurses did it, so it's not exactly a fashion statement."

  She turned her big blue eyes on him, and his heart gave a strange leap that only ever happened when Jennifer looked at him.

  "Does it look terrible?"

  "Just different. I didn't recognize you to start with."

  "I know." She laughed. "I expect I gave you a shock turning up with no warning like that."

  He nodded, his mouth twisted in a wry grin. "Just a little." He sucked in a breath and blew it out. He'd wanted her to come back for so long, now he had no idea how to handle things. "Do you have another job lined up?"

  "There are a couple of zoos interested in hiring me because of my experience with exotic animals. They contacted me while I was in the h
ospital. But I haven't really examined my options yet."

  Owen nodded, wondering which zoos and how far away they were. "How about you stay here with us until you're ready to go back to work? You can get to know Chloe better and spend Christmas with her."

  "Really? You'd let me do that?"

  He shrugged. "Chloe is my main concern, and I think she'd like to have you here."

  Jennifer looked down at her hands on the table and twisted a ring around her finger, a silver ring with a cat on it he'd given her shortly after they met.

  The shock of seeing that ring stopped Owen's breath for a few heartbeats. Did the fact she was still wearing his gift mean anything, or had she forgotten where she got it? Perhaps she noticed his scrutiny, because she curled one hand over the other, hiding the ring.

  "I'd like to stay and get to know Chloe, if you're sure you don't mind. It'll save me having to hunt for a place to live until after Christmas. By then I hope I'll know where I'll be working."

  Chloe chose that moment to burst back into the kitchen, racing in at a hundred miles an hour with Paddy at her heels as usual.

  "Good news. Your mother is going to stay with us until after Christmas," Owen announced.

  Chloe gave an earsplitting girly shriek that made Owen wince as she danced around the kitchen with Paddy, singing a Christmas song.

  Jennifer laughed out loud and he met her gaze, smiling as well, both in unspoken agreement that they loved to see their daughter happy.

  Chapter Four

  Jennifer woke slowly after a deep and restful night's sleep, her languor giving way to excitement and hope as she remembered where she was. A loud crash on the bedroom door brought her fully awake and she pushed up on an elbow, listening as Chloe reprimanded Paddy.

  A moment later came a tentative tap on her bedroom door.

  "Come in, Chloe."

  Her daughter put her head around the door, a sheepish expression on her face. "Sorry. Paddy likes to greet everybody in the morning. He's used to the bedroom doors being open, so he threw himself at yours."

 

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