by Jade Kerrion
Pain jolted up his spine and tugged him awake. Connor yanked in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth against the heated pulses. His muscles clenched, intensifying the agony. He bit back the curse words and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths until his muscles relaxed and the pain eased slightly.
His gaze fell on the lovely woman asleep on the chaise lounge, curled beneath the thick comforter. The pale dawn light filtered in through the window to caress Noelle’s face. She looked like an angel with her blond hair and sweetly serene expression.
She was an angel. He could not have made it through the night without her.
The memory of the accident, his near miss with death, shuddered through him. His daughters had lost their mother on Christmas Eve and, but for the grace of God, had nearly lost their father the following Christmas Eve. He had been stupid and careless, and he was incredibly lucky and blessed to be alive with nothing worse than a strained back.
And Noelle, poor Noelle, had more than she had bargained for when she offered to babysit for a few hours. Connor’s lips tugged into a half-smile as he studied her. She had always been pretty, but Connor found her mature beauty far more attractive than the unrepentant flirt she had been in high school.
The age gap between Noelle and Holly had given Noelle access to the high school seniors, and she had shot to instant popularity with the jocks. Connor, of course, had been beneath her notice, as had been the rest of the nerds, but she had never been unkind. She did not stop to talk to him, but she did nod at him when they passed in the corridors. Once or twice, she might have even smiled.
He hadn’t particularly cared one way or another, but he had certainly noticed Holly’s pretty younger sister. Did she recall, he wondered, the one interaction they had in high school? He had stayed late to study at the library, and at the end of his day, was walking past what he thought were empty classrooms when he heard a squeal of anguish.
“Leave her alone, Josh!” an outraged female voice ordered.
He pushed open the door and saw Josh, the star quarterback, and Noelle in the classroom. Josh held the squirming class mascot, a white rabbit, in one hand. With the other, he twisted its hind leg.
Connor had never thought that rabbits could make sounds, but that rabbit most definitely screamed.
“You’re hurting her! Give her to me!” Noelle tried to snatch the rabbit out of Josh’s hands, but he fended her off easily.
Josh looked up at the intrusion. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, Con. You wanna dissect this bunny?”
Noelle’s gaze flicked to Connor. Her eyes widened. “You can’t!”
The revulsion in her voice scorched him. Connor dropped his book bag and lunged at Josh. Surprise was the only advantage he had against his classmate who was taller, heavier, and stronger. He grabbed Josh’s wrist and twisted it. The rabbit tumbled onto the desk and scrambled away, limping. Noelle dashed after it.
And Connor fought for his life.
The outcome was inevitable but closer than either Josh or Connor could have imagined. Connor took a heck of a beating, but not by much. The janitor and a teacher were summoned to break up the fight, and Josh and Connor were both suspended for a week—Josh for animal cruelty and Connor for starting the fight and for injuring the star quarterback enough to sideline him for an important home game.
It was ironic, Connor supposed, that the only black mark on his high school career had been over a rabbit, but between the rabbit’s physical agony and Noelle’s emotional anguish, he hadn’t had a chance of avoiding the fight. He still recalled sitting outside the principal’s office, his vision blurry and head throbbing. His father was speaking to the principal. He could hear the disappointment in his father’s voice. Connor swallowed hard. He was going to be suspended and grounded. Damn it.
He stared at his knuckles; they were bruised and skinned. Dried blood—some his, some Josh’s—streaked his skin. If his transcript and high school record listed the suspension, it could jeopardize his college applications. All for a rabbit. He cursed under his breath.
Noelle’s small hand snaked into his. She held his fingertips—probably the only part of him that didn’t hurt. He heard his father’s footsteps approach but he did not look up. Noelle, however, had leapt to her feet. She spoke quickly, but her words blurred into an incomprehensible jumble in his aching head. He never did figure out what she had said to his father that day, but in the end, his father had patted him on the back. “Come on, son. Let’s get you home and cleaned up.”
His father hadn’t grounded him.
Eventually, his knuckles healed. The bruises faded, and his head stopped hurting. Eventually, he and Josh had become friends, but he had not spoken to Noelle since.
Not for twelve years.
And now she was back in Havre de Grace, as compelling and irresistible as he remembered, but she hadn’t come back to stay.
If only… But no…
Connor sighed quietly. Nothing would come of this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Daddy?”
Grace’s hesitant voice woke Noelle. Stretching widely, she sat up in the chaise lounge and held her arms out.
Grace scurried across the carpet and launched herself into Noelle’s embrace. The little girl’s eyes remained fixed on the bed where her father slept. She lowered her voice. “Is Daddy sick?”
“Um, no. Not exactly.” Noelle cuddled the child close. A smile spread across her face. Oh, was there anything better than holding a child in the morning?
“Why is he not moving?”
“He’s sleeping.”
“But Daddy is always awake when I’m awake.”
“Daddies need to sleep too.”
“I want Daddy to wake up!” Grace scrambled to the bed and shook Connor’s arm.
He didn’t respond.
Alarmed, Noelle went up to the bed. Connor was obviously alive, his breaths deep and even. On the bedside table was a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers combined with a sleep aid.
Grace shook Connor more vigorously. “Daddy!”
He dragged his eyes open. His unfocused gaze drifted over Grace’s face.
“Wake up!”
“I…I’m tired,” Connor whispered. “I just need to sleep for a while, okay?” His eyelids fluttered closed.
“No!” Grace screeched and flung her entire body over Connor’s.
“It’s all right.” Noelle placed her hands on Grace’s shoulders and led her away. “Let him sleep. How about you come downstairs with me to get breakfast ready?”
Shivering, Grace allowed Noelle to lead her to the kitchen, but she sat at the table, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her fingers locked on her knees. She sat in silence as Noelle inventoried the refrigerator and pantry. She was quiet for so long that Noelle finally looked out at her.
The little girl’s face was pale, her wide eyes terror-stricken.
“Grace? What’s wrong?”
Grace’s lips trembled. “When is my daddy going to die?”
“Your daddy’s not going to die.”
“He said he was tired. He said he was going to sleep. Mama said that too. And then she died.”
Oh, God. Noelle swallowed hard. No wonder Grace was traumatized. She tugged up a chair to sit across from the child. “Your mother was sick when she said that, but your daddy’s not sick. He’s just tired. Really. I promise.”
“I don’t want him to die.” Grace’s voice shook.
“I know.”
“I want to see him.”
“Okay, let’s go see him.” Noelle held her hand out to Grace, and they went up the stairs together.
Grace tiptoed exaggeratedly into the room to stand in front of her sleeping father. The little girl sniffed to hold back her tears and then crawled under the covers. Noelle made no move to stop her.
In his sleep, Connor shifted to wrap his arms around his daughter and hold her close. A shaky smile wavered on Grace’s lips, and she closed her eyes as she snuggled aga
inst her father’s chest.
A lump rose in Noelle’s throat, and she turned away before dashing the tears from her eyes with an unsteady hand. She walked down the stairs and saw the bag of gifts in the foyer. After arranging the presents under the tree, she started a cheery fire in the hearth before reaching for her smartphone to call her sister.
“Hey, stranger,” Holly said. “What’s with these cryptic text messages you sent?”
“Cryptic?”
There was a hint of laughter in Holly’s voice. “If you’re gonna jump a guy’s bones, just say so. Don’t call it an accident, and say you’re staying to help.”
Noelle scowled. “Connor was in a car accident last night that landed him in the ER. He hurt his back, so I stayed to help with his kids.”
“Oh my God. Is he all right?”
“Nothing broken or bleeding, but other than that, I don’t know. I helped swap out ice packs and heat packs several times last night, but he’s still asleep, so I can’t ask him.”
“Poor man. Will you be staying to help him through the day?”
“I know it’s Christmas—”
“I’ve got Dad covered.”
“I’ll wait until he’s awake and see how he’s doing. I want to be home for Christmas, too, but Connor needs help.”
Her sister remained silent. She was sneaky, Noelle reflected. Holly knew full well that silence only served as an invitation for Noelle to keep speaking. At another time, she might have denied her sister the satisfaction, but her heart was so full that she had to speak. “He’s trying so hard, Holly. It breaks my heart to see him struggle alone.”
“He’s not a stray you can pick up off the road and nurse back to health.”
“I know. It’s just…” She sighed. “I’m crazy, right?”
“Do you know if he’s ready to move on?”
Noelle glanced up at the photograph on the mantle place. “I don’t know.”
“He hasn’t dated since she died. Hasn’t even looked twice at any woman.”
Noelle bit her lower lip. Had she only imagined his attraction? “How long were they together?”
“Oh…since junior or senior year of high school, I imagine. I think she was at Boston University when he was at Harvard; I know she applied to colleges in the same cities as he did. They got married after they graduated from college, and they continued to live in Boston when he went to medical school.”
Noelle drew a deep breath. Connor and Millie had a high school sweetheart love story that should have lasted their whole lives. How could she possibly compete with it?
She couldn’t. That much was obvious, even to her. She sighed. “It’s just that I feel so bad for his children.”
“I know—Grace, especially—but they’re his kids, Noelle, not yours. What’s going to happen to them when you pick up and go back to Los Angeles?”
Noelle twitched guiltily. A faint cry reached her ears. “Hope’s awake. I gotta go.”
“Okay. Just let me know what your plans for the day are when you figure them out.”
Noelle slid the phone back into her pocket and raced up the steps to Hope’s bedroom. The toddler stood in her crib, her T-shirt askew, and her diaper partially unfastened and hanging loosely off one hip.
Oops. I failed Diapering 101. “Hello, baby girl.”
The distress in Hope’s eyes transformed into a sparkle and her pout into a grin.
“Come on.” Noelle scooped her up. “Let’s get you a clean diaper and then we’ll have some breakfast, won’t we?”
Hope giggled and started laughing when Noelle scratched lightly on her stomach. She squirmed away from the tickles and kicked her feet. Noelle dressed Hope in warmer clothes—which took far more time than expected as a result of the general goofing around and exchange of kisses—and carried her downstairs.
One messy yogurt later, Noelle glanced up at the sound of feet on the stairs. Grace trotted into the kitchen. Hope laughed and thumped her tray with unbridled enthusiasm at the sight of her sister.
The older girl stood in the doorway. “Daddy’s awake.”
Noelle heard but did not remark on the quiet relief in Grace’s voice. “How is he?”
“He’s taking a shower.” Grace’s gaze drifted past the kitchen and widened at the sight of gifts under the tree. “Presents!” She raced to the Christmas tree and knelt to look through the brightly wrapped packages. “This is for me. This one too. And this is for Hope. So many gifts.” Joy rang through her voice.
“Who are they from?” Noelle asked.
Grace was silent for a beat. “Daddy.”
Noelle continued to feed Hope as if it were the only thing on her mind. She silently counted down the seconds.
At the six-second mark, Grace said softly, “I don’t have a present for Daddy.”
Score! Noelle refrained from doing a happy Snoopy dance. “What would you like to give him?”
Grace pondered the question. “A smile,” she said finally.
“Well, that’s easy. You can give him a big smile, can’t you?”
“No, not me. Him.”
Noelle’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“I want Daddy to smile. He doesn’t smile anymore. He’s always just angry or sad.”
Noelle swallowed through the lump in her throat and reached out to stroke Grace’s hair. “Well, I’m sure your daddy will be down soon. How about you help me get some breakfast ready for him? Do you think it’ll get him to smile?”
“Maybe.” Grace perked up. “He likes waffles, but I don’t know how to make waffles.”
“Fortunately, I do, but I’ll need a helper.”
Grace waved her hand in the air. “I can help.”
Hope toddled around the kitchen, climbing from the chair onto the table and from the table onto the kitchen island, only to be lifted off, kicking and screaming, by Noelle. Undaunted, she kept trying. Equally undaunted, Noelle kept Hope from injuring or killing herself while supervising Grace’s attempt to make waffles.
The first batch turned out somewhat undercooked, but the second emerged a glorious golden color. Noelle washed and sliced strawberries, and set the maple syrup and whipped cream on the table. She scarcely heard the footsteps until Connor said quietly, “Merry Christmas.”
Noelle turned to see him standing in the doorway separating the kitchen from the dining room. He was barefoot, and the button-down flannel shirt he wore over a pair of faded denim jeans made him appear more casual and younger. He still looked tired—Noelle suspected it would take him days, if not weeks, to repay his sleep debt, but he seemed relaxed. Apparently, a full night’s sleep had helped him regain some of the equilibrium that made him an outstanding doctor.
Grace threw her arms around his waist. “Merry Christmas! I made waffles for you!”
“Really?” A smile spread across his face. “I love waffles.”
Grace and Noelle exchanged conspiratorial grins. One smile. And the day had scarcely begun. With luck, they’d win ten smiles from Connor before lunch.
~*~
Connor did not have clear memories of his first Christmas without Millie. Blasted open by disbelief, shock, and grief, he had cradled his newborn daughter, his last tangible link to Millie. A year later, looking back, he realized he didn’t have clear memories of the weeks immediately following Millie’s death. The support of family and friends had helped him get through the first few months. When his own grief stabilized enough for him to function, his sole focus had been survival.
It took him an entire year to realize that “survival” had sucked all the joy out of living. As he sat next to Noelle on the couch, watching Grace unwrap her gifts, he realized he was enjoying his first “normal” day since Millie’s death, and it was perfect. Grace’s small face lit with joy as she paraded her toys and modeled her new clothes. Hope sat on the carpet, apparently content to thump on her still-wrapped gifts like a percussion set. It was a low-key Christmas by any measure, but it reminded him that “normal” was still ou
t there, waiting for him, within reach.
Even more marvelous was the transformation in Grace. She chattered with Noelle, her demeanor vibrant, even vivacious. He had not seen his daughter that way since Millie died. No topic was too small or too big to discuss with Noelle, who was brilliant at asking leading questions and allowing Grace to come up with the answer on her own. His headstrong daughter didn’t even realize that she was subtly guided to the right answer.
“Gah.” Hope pushed to her feet and patted his knee. He picked her up and set her on the couch, between him and Noelle. Hope clambered onto Noelle’s lap and stood up, hooking her arm around Noelle’s neck. Absently, Noelle turned to kiss and nuzzle Hope’s chubby cheek. Hope smiled and leaned in against Noelle; her little fingers toyed with Noelle’s dangling earring.
Anyone looking at them would have imagined that they were mother and daughter.
Connor swallowed hard. “I’ll get lunch started.”
“No, I will.” Noelle placed a hand gently on his thigh to keep him in his seat.
The shock of contact shot straight into his groin. Damn.
She pushed to her feet. “You just keep that heat pack on your back, and tell me when you want me to bring the ice pack to you.”
Connor took a deep breath. Noelle had no idea what she was doing to him. Here she was talking about heat packs, when what he really needed was an ice pack and not on his back.
“I want to make lunch too.” Grace scrambled to her feet and raced after Noelle.
Hope’s little mouth twisted into a pout, and she wailed. She slid down from the couch and toddled after Grace and Noelle, complaining unintelligibly under her breath the entire way.
Connor sat alone in his living room and listened as Hope’s excited babble blended into the bright and ringing tones of female chatter in the kitchen. The heavy crush of wistful sorrow against his chest could not conceal the flutter of hope as his skeptical mind tried to wrap around the truth his heart had intuitively grasped.
Noelle was filling the gap Millie had left in their lives.
His gaze rested on the small wrapped gift under the tree. It wasn’t labeled and had not been noticed amid the chaos of Grace’s other gifts.