His for Christmas

by Cara Colter/Michelle Douglas/Janice Lynn

  He understood. He didn’t know quite how to take his compliment either. Wasn’t he the one insisting that they were just friends? Yet he fought the desire to take her into his arms constantly.

  She was right to be wary. He didn’t want to hurt her, battled with the need to put distance between them.

  But she was pregnant with his baby and he couldn’t turn his back on her. Wouldn’t even if he could.

  Soon decisions would have to be made. Decisions Dirk wasn’t sure he was ready to make, but he had little choice given the circumstances.

  Abby had cooked most of the previous day while Dirk had been at work at the hospital. She’d only had to do last-minute items that simply couldn’t be done ahead of time for dinner to taste right.

  He should be arriving any moment. Would he be upset with her? He had no idea what she had planned, just that he was coming over for dinner.

  Nervously, she swept her gaze around her living room. The tree blinked in multicolored magic. Her village houses glowed invitingly, making Abby imagine strolling along between them, hand in hand with Dirk as they peeped into shop windows and snuggled together to stay warm.

  Despite being on edge, she smiled at the memories attached to each one of the special pieces to her mother’s Christmas village. She ran her hands over the church’s steeple. The first piece her father had given to her mother because it had reminded him of the small church where they’d married.

  Mistletoe was in his basket next to her lit fire. Candles burned on the mantel and coffee table, blending with the pine of her tree to add a spicy Christmas scent to the room. Dinner and company waited in the kitchen.

  God, she hoped everything went as planned, that his mother hadn’t been wrong. But deep in her heart Abby wondered if she’d made a mistake in going along with this Christmas surprise. What if Dirk was upset? What if he thought she’d overstepped her boundaries?

  Which was the crux of the matter. What were the boundaries of their relationship? He kept insisting they were just friends, yet he looked at her with desire in his eyes, looked at her with possessiveness in his eyes. She was pregnant with his child, crazily in love with him, and wanted to share her life, their baby’s life, with him. But the him she saw, not the broken man he saw reflected in his mirror. She deserved better than walking on emotional eggshells for the rest of their lives.

  On cue, the doorbell rang, causing Mistletoe’s eyes to open. He yawned, but didn’t budge from his basket.

  “Nothing fazes you, does it, big guy?” she said to the lazy cat as she walked into the foyer. Pasting a nervous smile on her face, she opened the front door.

  A freshly shaven and showered Dirk stood there, looking more handsome than she’d ever seen. Perhaps because he was smiling and running his gaze up and down her.

  He held up a bottle. “I’d have brought wine but I figured apple cider was more appropriate considering.”

  “Um, apple cider is fine.” Casting a wary glance over her shoulder toward the kitchen, she motioned him inside, closing the door behind him to block out the cold air rushing in. It hadn’t started snowing yet but the weather forecast predicted there was a good chance of it.

  Abby took the bottle. “I’ll just put this in the kitchen while you remove your coat.”

  Slipping his coat off, he glanced around the room. “Wow, you’ve really gone to a lot of trouble for just the two of us.”

  “About that…” She waited until his eyes connected with hers, trepidation bubbling in her belly.

  Only his gaze shot past her to where he could see into the small dining area, could see the table set with eight place settings. His smile faded. “It’s not going to be just the two of us? Did you invite some of your friends from the hospital?”

  She shook her head. “No, I have a Christmas surprise for you.”

  Furrows dug into his forehead. “You know how I feel about Christmas.”

  “I do know.” Please don’t let him be upset that she’d gone along with his mother’s suggestion. Please.

  “Okay.” He exhaled slowly, moving close to her, close enough to touch. “I’m trying to deal with your Christmas excitement, but no more surprises.”

  Cupping his handsome face, she stared into his eyes, knowing she loved him, knowing she wanted him for ever, to spend all her Christmases with him and their child, and any future children that might come along. “Dirk, I—”

  “Dirk! You’re here!”

  His expression instantly transformed to terseness, instantly tightened with cold accusation before turning toward the woman who’d entered the room.

  What the—? Dirk rotated his jaw, counted to ten, inhaled and exhaled, anything to try to keep his mounting anger under control.

  “Hello, Mother.” He’d never mentioned Abby to his family, so his mother couldn’t have been the one to make contact. But how? Surely Abby wouldn’t have gone behind his back? This would explain why his mother’s calls had eased.

  Clearly having no clue as to the enormity of what she’d done, Abby’s fingers clasped his arm. “Dirk?”

  Seeing the stricken look in her eyes, he fought the need to reassure her. How could he reassure her when panic gripped his throat, cutting off his airways?

  “I’m surprised to see you here, Mother.”

  She walked to him, turned her cheek up to him. Automatically, he bent to kiss her in spite of his displeasure at her invading his holidays. God, he wasn’t up for Christmas Intervention II.

  “I can see why you like Philadelphia so much.” His mother beamed in Abby’s direction. “Your Abby is quite lovely.”

  “She’s not my Abby.” But she was quite pale, looking back and forth between them, clearly trying to size up the dynamics taking place. How could she have done this?

  “Are the rest of the crew here?” But he could hear that they were. Over the sounds of the Christmas music playing, he could hear his nephews chatting back and forth, hear his sister shushing them.

  “Holidays are meant to be shared with your family. We wanted to spend ours with you, Dirk, because we love you.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “So you invited yourself to Abby’s?”

  “No,” his mother laughed, wrapping her arms around him to give him a hug. “I mentioned how much we wanted to see you over the holidays, that we planned to surprise you with a visit, and asked your lovely Abby to help. She invited us here. Such a good girl, Dirk. I like her.”

  Dirk struggled to process his mother’s words. “When did you talk to Abby?”

  His mother gave him one last squeeze, starting to look a little nervous herself. “We’ve talked several times over the past week. She’s absolutely lovely, son.”

  “Yes, you’ve mentioned that a time or two,” he bit out tersely. God, what were they up to? If they brought out video tapes and photo albums again, he was out of there.

  “I’ll, uh, I’ll go check on dinner.” Abby gave him one last look, her lower lip trembled, then she disappeared into the kitchen, the low rumble of his brother’s voice greeting her.

  Abby had had no right to invite his family, to plan a Christmas dinner with them behind his back. Just what had his family told her? That he was a broken man? Pathetic and weak at the loss of his wife and child? That he might as well have died in that car wreck, too?

  He should have. Sandra and Shelby should have lived. He should have been the one taken that morning.

  “Dirk.” His mother gave him a look that would have stopped him in his tracks during his younger years. “When I spoke with Abby, I’d hoped Philadelphia had been good for you, had removed the blinkers you’ve worn for the last four years. It’s time you dealt with this.”

  Something inside Dirk snapped.

  “Have you ever considered that I have dealt with this, only not to everyone else’s satisfaction? Guess what, Mother, I’m the one who has to wake up every single day knowing that I will never look into my wife’s eyes again, that I will never feel Shelby’s fingers wrapped around m
ine again. You should respect that I’ve dealt with this and let me be.”

  “If you’d dealt with this, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we? Because you would have come home for Christmas.”

  “What? And be put through the hell of last year? I don’t think so.”

  “We hired a top psychiatrist, Dirk. We followed her recommendations to the letter—”

  “A psychiatrist?” Oh, God, that was rich. “I’m not crazy.”

  “No one thinks you are.”

  He paced across the room, spun to meet her gaze. “I was ambushed last Christmas.”

  She took a deep breath and didn’t back down. “You were surrounded by people who love you and want what’s best for you. People who want you to enjoy life again.”

  “What was best for me is lying in a cemetery in Oak Park.” Dirk couldn’t stop the words from streaming out of his mouth. Couldn’t stop the feelings of hurt and betrayal streaming through him. “Something you conveniently forgot when you planned last year’s fiasco. Tell me, what Christmas torture do you have in store for me tonight? Pictures? Home movies? Personal recollections of my wife and daughter? Because if that’s the case, you should leave now, and take the rest of the family with you.”

  A loud gasp caused both Dirk and his mother to spin toward the kitchen door. Abby held on to the door frame as if she might slide to the floor if she didn’t.

  Sharp pain zig-zagged across her face.

  Hell. He raked his fingers through his hair. What was wrong with him? He’d never verbally attacked his mother before. Not even last year during the worst of the intervention, right before he’d walked out on them. No, he’d just calmly gotten up, informed them that they were mistaken about him and that he was leaving. And he’d left.

  His mother recovered before he did, pasting a weak smile to her face as she regarded Abby. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s rude of us to come into your house and squabble over family disagreements.”

  Family disagreements? Dirk wanted to laugh. Was that what they were calling invading his life?

  “I came to tell you dinner was finished if you’re ready to eat.” Disillusionment shone on her face and when their eyes met, she quickly averted her gaze from his.

  “Dinner would be lovely.” His mother took him by the elbow, gave him a look meant to put him in his place. “Everything smells wonderful. Right, son?”

  Dirk gritted his teeth, seeing right through his mother’s ploy. She wanted to pretend everything was okay for Abby’s sake. If they’d cared about him, or Abby, they’d have stayed in Oak Park, wouldn’t have come to stir up the past.

  “Right,” he finally agreed, knowing this was going to be a long, long night.

  Abby’s face hurt from keeping her fake smile in place, just as she’d kept her smile in place all evening.

  “It was so lovely to meet you, dear.” Dirk’s mother leaned forward, engulfing Abby in a giant bear hug. One so real and heartfelt Abby wanted to cry. “At least we know Dirk has someone to look out for him here in Philly.”

  Right. But during the terse evening Abby had realized she didn’t want to look out for Dirk. Not under the current circumstances.

  Having watched him with his family had only made obvious what she’d admitted to herself weeks ago but had shoved aside, hoping that Dirk could love her. He couldn’t. He had closed off his heart to the world.

  If he wasn’t willing to let his own mother in, how was Abby supposed to believe he’d ever let her?

  Which was the crux of the matter. After tonight, she didn’t believe.

  Dirk had stolen her belief in happily-ever-after, her belief in Christmas miracles. Her belief, period.

  In place of the hope-filled woman she’d once been was a disillusioned woman but one determined to be strong woman who’d do what was best for her child.

  “Dinner was lovely,” said the next woman in line to head out the front door. A tall, dark-haired woman with eyes identical to Dirk’s. His sister, Jolene. She held a well-bundled toddler in her arms. A toddler who shared the Kelley eyes. Would Abby’s own baby have a similar blue gaze? Would she forever be haunted by the man she’d loved but who hadn’t been able to love her in return?

  “Thanks so much for inviting us.” The woman leaned over and kissed Abby’s cheek. “I hope to see you again soon. Maybe Dirk will bring you to Oak Park.”

  Abby felt tears pop into her eyes. What kind of man could have a family like this and shut them out?

  Oh, he’d lightened up a bit as the evening had progressed, but he’d been out-and-out rude when he’d first arrived. So much so that Abby had planted the fake smile on her face and tried to make his family feel welcome despite his cold regard. Even now, as his mother pulled him into her arms, he wore a slight grimace, stood stiffly rather than embracing her in return.

  Abby wanted to hit him. He had this beautiful family, her baby’s family, and he ignored them, held them at arm’s length.

  No doubt after his wife and daughter’s deaths things had been rough, but shouldn’t he have leaned on his family, not shut them out?

  His brother shook his hand, pulled him into a half-embrace. “Good to see you, man. If you can swing it, we’d love to have you at Christmas.”

  Dirk didn’t comment. By his brother’s sigh, Abby figured John knew Dirk had no intention of showing up in Oak Park on Christmas Day.

  “He’ll probably sleep most of the day. After all, he’ll have just pulled twenty-four hours in the emergency room.” Why was she defending him? This was his family. Not hers. She shouldn’t be the one working so hard to make things go smoothly. “Driving long distances after working such a long shift really wouldn’t be wise.”

  “You’re right, of course.” His mother’s chest rose and fell beneath her heavy coat. “At least he won’t be spending Christmas alone.” She sent Abby a warm smile. “It really was lovely to meet you. Come on, children. Let’s get this show on the road so Abby can prop her feet up. She looks tired.”

  Something in the way Dirk’s mother said the words made Abby meet the woman’s gaze, made her look away because she was sure the woman could see into her soul and see all her secrets.

  Besides, she was tired. After pulling a twelve-hour shift at the hospital, coming home and grabbing only a few hours’ sleep then finishing dinner, she was tuckered out.

  It took Dirk’s family another five minutes to completely get out the door, between more goodbyes, hugs, kisses to the cheeks, and kids dashing back in for a cookie for the road.

  When the door closed, Abby sagged and didn’t bother to try to hide her fatigue from Dirk. As his family had exited, she’d sensed his mounting tension, had seen the building fire in his eyes, had known they’d argue and was ready to get it over with.

  “How could you treat your family that way, Dirk? They love you, drove all that way to spend the evening with you, and you lashed out at them every chance you got.” Her heart had ached for the whole lot of them. Even Dirk. Because in his grief he’d lost much more than his wife and daughter. He’d lost everything that mattered and had no one to blame but himself.

  “They had no right to show up here. How could you have invited them without discussing it with me first?”

  “This is my house. I can invite whomever I want,” she reminded him, chin lifting a notch. “Besides, your mother wanted to surprise you. I thought you’d be happy to see your family over the holidays.”

  “Well, I wasn’t. You want to know why? Because I’m not you. I’m not little Miss Christmas Spirit, spreading good tidings to the whole world. I’m a man who lost his wife and daughter and the world, including his family who should understand, expects him to go on and forget.”

  “You weren’t the only one who lost someone they loved when Shelby and Sandra died. Your family loved them, too.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed.

  “Whose fault is that, Dirk? I’m pregnant with your baby and yet you’d never introduced me
to your family. Even tonight, you acted as if I was no one special.”

  “How did you want me to act? You went behind my back.”

  “It was supposed to be a pleasant surprise! Something to give you good memories to replace the ones you refuse to let go of.”

  “You’d have me forget my wife and daughter?” His eyes blazed, the veins on his neck bulged, his breath hissed.

  Needing to put distance between them, Abby turned away, walked over to her Christmas village table, hoping to find comfort in the heirlooms she loved.

  “Answer me.” Dirk followed her, gripped her arm, turned her toward his angry face. “Is that what this was about? Making me forget Sandra and Shelby for your own purposes? Being pregnant doesn’t give you the right to go behind my back, Abby.”

  “My only purpose was to give you a special Christmas memory, which you ruined for everyone by closing yourself off to any possibility of having a good time.”

  “I have all the special Christmas memories I need.”

  “Well, good for you, Dirk,” she bit out, tired, frustrated, hurt, angry at him for his callous attitude. “Maybe you should stop to think about everyone else who might still want new special Christmas memories instead of being such a selfish jerk!”

  She jerked back, freeing herself from his grasp and losing her balance. She stumbled, reached out to steady herself. And failed.

  Chapter Twelve

  IN HORRID slow motion Dirk watched disaster unfold, unable to stop what had been set into play, only able to do damage control by reacting quickly.

  Reaching out to keep from falling back, Abby had grabbed hold of the table her village sat on. Only she didn’t catch the table. She caught the steeple of the church and kept going, the church traveling with her, knocking pieces of the village left and right.

  “No,” she cried as she kept going back, too off balance to do a thing to stop the pending catastrophe as the table tipped. “My mother’s village!”