A Hawk's Way Christmas

by Joan Johnston

  It didn’t seem fair to let himself start imagining the two of them together. Rolleen had already been hurt by one man who’d loved her and left her. While he might have fallen for her if she’d been free and single, he couldn’t very well ignore the fact she was pregnant with another man’s child. That complication alone would make any permanent relationship between them difficult, if not impossible.

  Yet over the past ten days, Gavin had learned to like Rolleen Whitelaw better than he had liked anyone—man or woman—in his entire life. It was the confounded sexual attraction between them that had him uptight and confused. It wasn’t something that had grown gradually. It had been there right from the start.

  Rolleen hadn’t simply moved to the music that first evening when he had taken her dancing, she had reveled in it. During a slow jazz tune, she had put the back of her hand against his nape, urged his head down and whispered, “I love dancing with you, Gavin. I mean, darling. Darling sounds lovely, doesn’t it? Thanks so much for bringing me here tonight, darling.”

  The mere sound of her voice, that soft, sexy purr, had made his blood roar in his ears. Gavin didn’t know when he’d been so aroused by a woman out of bed. His flesh had come alive along every surface where her slim, feminine form molded itself against his, and because it was all supposedly pretend, he had said exactly what he was thinking. “I’m on fire for you, Rolleen.”

  She made a whimpering sound and shivered and clung even closer to him.

  Instinct drove him to lift her so they would fit better, when what he really wanted was to have her prone. He knew it was way too soon for that—or even the pretense of it. Which was when it had dawned on him that nothing was ever going to happen between them, because this was all pretend. Even if it felt damned real.

  At the end of the evening, he had kissed her chastely on the forehead at her door, refusing her invitation inside for a cup of coffee. He knew better. It was as difficult holding on to his objectivity as it was keeping his distance. But it would have spoiled everything if he’d started kissing her and touching her for real.

  The next step in their “courtship” had been an evening of Christmas shopping two days later.

  “Shopping?” he’d said, much aggrieved at the idea.

  She’d given him a coaxing smile—which had sent his heartbeat up a notch—and said, “Have you done yours?”

  He’d been forced to admit, “Not yet.”

  “Then we might as well do it together. I have lots of people to buy for, and I’m still not done.”

  She had taken him to a huge mall on the beltway with a parking lot the size of an airport runway. “People actually shop in this madhouse?” he’d asked.

  “I come to see all the Christmas decorations,” she replied. “And to shop,” she conceded with a smile. “I love the excitement and bustle of the crowd and the look of awe and enchantment in the children’s eyes when they meet Santa Claus for the first time. And the carolers. I love Christmas music. It’s so full of…of joy!”

  She had looked up at him, her face as bright and shiny as one of the Christmas balls hanging from the rafters and said, “You may have noticed. I love everything about Christmas.”

  Gavin hadn’t recently made a point of admiring the sparkle and glow of Christmas decorations, but he had trouble taking his eyes off of Rolleen’s face. He didn’t notice the crowds, because he was too busy watching her.

  He stopped with her to observe the children being put on Santa’s lap to make their Christmas requests—some crying, some laughing, some adorable. Like the shy little girl with short black hair parted in the middle and bangs that fell into her eyes who reminded him of his daughter.

  I wonder if Hester has taken Beth to see Santa?

  He could easily have slipped Beth into the conversation—if he hadn’t felt so guilty at that precise moment. It wasn’t Beth’s fault Susan had been unfaithful. It wasn’t Beth’s fault she wasn’t his flesh and blood daughter.

  Guilt was quickly followed by another, darker emotion. Seeing Beth’s face in his mind’s eye reminded him that none of her features were his. Thinking of her brought back the anguished feelings of betrayal he had experienced the night he’d read Susan’s letter, and it forced him to acknowledge that he was afraid to see Beth this Christmas because his emotions were so close to the surface. He was terrified he might fall to pieces in front of her.

  Which was why he found himself Christmas shopping at a mall with Rolleen Whitelaw. She was going to provide the buffer that would allow him to get through this Christmas season with his… He made himself think the words: my daughter.

  In fact, Rolleen’s attitude toward her unborn child, and the fact she was adopted herself, had Gavin reevaluating his behavior toward Beth. If he wanted to keep Rolleen’s good opinion—and he did—he needed to treat his daughter in a loving way. But behavior and feelings were two different things. Gavin could change his behavior. He wasn’t so sure about his feelings.

  “Look, Gavin! Carolers!” Rolleen exclaimed, interrupting his thoughts.

  On his own, Gavin wouldn’t have paid any attention to the choir in the center of the mall, but he was so fascinated by the radiant look on Rolleen’s face that he listened to see what it was she found so inspiring about the music—and was assailed with nostalgic memories.

  God rest ye, Merry Gentlemen!

  Let nothing you dismay…

  Christmas in his home had always been a wonderful blend of the secular and the religious. They had popped popcorn in the fireplace and read Charles Dickens after they opened presents on Christmas Day. His grandmother had kept the traditions alive after his parents died, and Gavin had maintained them with his family.

  This year he hadn’t been able to think about any of the things that made Christmas a special time of year. That is, until a few days ago. Seeing Christmas through Rolleen’s eyes, Gavin wanted to be a part of it again—the gift giving, the music, the decorations…and the spirit of love he seemed to have lost when his wife died.

  Gavin vicariously experienced the pleasure Rolleen took in selecting a model airplane for Colt while she explained, “Colt thinks nobody’s noticed, but he’s crazy about flying.”

  “Really?” Gavin said. “He never said anything to me about it.”

  Her lips curved in what was becoming to him an endearingly familiar smile. “He thinks he’s keeping it a secret.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Dad gave him a couple of books on the history of flying for his birthday this year, and I’ve given him a different model airplane every Christmas for the past five. There isn’t much you can keep secret in a household as big as ours.”

  “Yet you think we can manage it?” Gavin asked, dividing the weight of the packages he carried more equally. “Do you really believe we’re going to get away without somebody finding out the truth?”

  Her smile disappeared for the first time since they’d stepped inside the mall. She settled a package carefully in the crook of his elbow and said, “For everyone’s sake, I hope so.” She looked up at him and said, “If we were a married couple, and you were madly in love with me, what would you do if I said I was feeling a little tired and needed to sit down?”

  Instead of telling her, Gavin acted on impulse. He set all the packages beside a nearby fountain, lifted her into his arms and settled himself on the edge of the fountain with her in his lap. “Are you comfortable now?”

  She was too busy laughing to answer him. She had her arms draped around his neck, and as she leaned against him her breasts pillowed against his chest.

  “That was wonderful!” she said. “My family will be truly impressed if you make grand gestures like that.”

  He put his palm against her cheek, angled her face toward his and said, “I didn’t do it to impress anybody. I did it for you.”

  The laughter stopped abruptly and tears misted her eyes. “Oh, Gavin,” she whispered. “What a lovely, romantic thing to say. You’re so wonderfully convincing. They’ll neve
r doubt you are what you say you are.”

  He tucked her head under his chin, finding it strangely difficult to speak.

  Before they left the mall he purchased a selection of eucalyptus-scented bath accessories for his grandmother. Rolleen had been delighted to help evaluate each and every bottle and jar in the store—until the odd mixture of odors had finally made her nauseated.

  “Uh-oh,” she’d suddenly said, swallowing furiously. “Uh-oh.”

  “What is it?”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  He’d looked around frantically but there wasn’t a bathroom in sight. He urged her out the boutique door, where he remembered seeing a bench in the mall. To his chagrin, the bench was occupied by an elderly couple he wouldn’t ordinarily have asked to get up. But he found himself saying to the white-haired woman, “She’s pregnant,” and looking at the elderly man for understanding.

  “Get up, Harold,” the woman said, getting up herself, “and let the little lady sit down.”

  Gavin dropped his load of packages on the floor beside the bench and knelt in front of Rolleen, watching her take deep breaths, praying for the color to come back into her pale, sweat-dotted face as an interested crowd gathered around them.

  “She’s expecting,” the elderly woman informed anyone who would listen.

  Gavin knew Rolleen was all right when she suddenly pointed at a little boy across the mall who was squatted down on his heels watching a shark chasing a diver around a bowl of water. She was on her feet and headed for the toy store before he could stop her.

  “You take care of her, son,” the elderly man said as Gavin grabbed their packages and followed after her. “Nothing is more important than family at Christmas.”

  The sudden constriction in Gavin’s throat had plenty of time to relax while Rolleen bought presents for some kids at the hospital. When she wasn’t looking, Gavin purchased a doll for Beth that talked and ate and wet and hid it at the bottom of his single shopping bag. The doll was something Gavin knew Beth wanted, and he realized he was glad to buy it for her, even if she wasn’t really his daughter.

  He dropped the packages and Rolleen off that night without coming inside. And without mentioning Beth.

  Since Rolleen had been the one to select shopping as a joint activity, their next excursion was Gavin’s choice. “I vote for a picnic on the beach,” he announced.

  “It’s winter!” she protested.

  “This is South Texas. We don’t have winter.”

  “I can’t get off during the day.”

  “We’ll go at night.”

  “All right. I give up,” she conceded, throwing up her hands in defeat. “A picnic on the beach. But don’t expect me to wear a swimsuit. What can I bring?”

  “Yourself. I’ll take care of everything else.”

  The picnic hadn’t quite turned out as he’d planned.

  Gavin had figured they’d drive down to a beach house he owned near Padre Island and make themselves comfortable on the rug in front of the stone fireplace, where he imagined the two of them kissing in the romantic light of a crackling fire.

  Unfortunately, when they arrived, the key to the front door proved useless, because the house was sealed with a padlock.

  “I knew the caretaker was having trouble with vandals, and I told him to handle it whatever way he thought best,” Gavin muttered. “But I had no idea he’d padlock the place.”

  “Can you get the key from him?”

  Gavin shook his head. “He lives in Houston. I usually call before I come down. I’m sorry, Rolleen.” He was surprised at how disappointed he felt.

  “Why don’t we take our picnic down to the beach?” Rolleen suggested.

  “It’s full of sand crabs and sand fleas and…sand,” he said disgustedly.

  She laughed. “We’ll put down a blanket. Come on!”

  She grabbed his hand and headed back to the Jeep to pick up everything they would need. She took off her tennis shoes when they filled with sand and made him take off his Docksiders. Gavin had to admit the sand felt wonderfully cool between his toes, but the salty breeze off the gulf was downright chilly.

  “You’re going to catch a cold,” he protested when she shivered despite the sweatshirt she was wearing over a pair of faded cutoffs. “This was a mistake.”

  “It was a fabulous idea,” she countered, her arms spread wide, her head back as she turned circles staring up at the night sky. “I’ve never been to the beach before.”

  He hurried to keep up with her as she skipped over a sand dune and down onto the beach. “Never?”

  She shook her head, her windblown hair catching in her mouth. “Not a lot of ocean in northwest Texas. And I’ve been too busy with school to get down here.”

  Rolleen had trouble spreading the blanket by herself with all the wind, and Gavin had to drop what he was carrying and help her. They put picnic items on the four corners of the blanket to keep it from flying. Rolleen finally settled onto the blanket cross-legged and grabbed his hand to pull him down beside her.

  Gavin laughed as he settled on the center of the blanket. “The picnic basket’s holding down the north corner of the blanket. We’re going to starve unless we sit closer to it.”

  “Not yet,” she said, squeezing his hand.

  When he looked into her gleaming eyes she said, “Couldn’t we just lie back and look at the stars for a little while?”

  She held on to his hand as she lay back on the blanket, and Gavin laid himself down beside her. They said nothing for a very long time. Gavin looked at the stars and found the Big Dipper and the North Star, which was the extent of his knowledge of astronomy.

  He was very much aware of the fact Rolleen was flat on her back and how little effort it would take to pull her into his arms. He kept waiting for her to make some overt move toward him, to give him some signal that she wanted to do more than hold hands. But it didn’t come.

  “Pretty moon,” he said at last.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Not a cloud in the sky.”

  “No,” she said softly. “Just billions of stars. Do you suppose the star that led everyone to Bethlehem is still up there somewhere?”

  “I don’t know why not,” he said. “You see a particular star you think might be it?” he asked, glancing at her.

  “The brightest one.”

  He searched the sky, but they all looked about the same to him. He made himself see the sky through Rolleen’s eyes and found one faraway star that winked brighter than the rest. “I see it,” he said.

  She squeezed his hand again, and he felt connected to her and in some odd way to the sand and the sea and the sky as well.

  “Rolleen?” He heard the yearning in his voice but by then was beyond feeling pride. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to touch her. “We’ve been seeing each other for a week.”

  He saw her swallow hard. “I know. A wonderful week.”

  He opened his mouth to suggest they should graduate from holding hands, maybe indulge in another kiss, but bit his tongue before he spoke. She was right. It had been a wonderful week without the kissing and touching. He didn’t need to indulge in the acts to know he wanted her, to pretend for her parents’ sake that he wanted her.

  To his surprise, she rolled onto her side facing him. “Gavin, would you kiss me, please?”

  He soughed out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, then rolled onto his side facing her. There wasn’t much space between them, just enough so he didn’t have to look cross-eyed at her. “I’d like very much to kiss you, Rolleen,” he said. “That’s why I’m not so sure it’s such a good idea.”

  She thought about that a minute and said, “Neither of us wants this charade to lead to entanglements. But I think we’d better do this anyway.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my sister Jewel is going to ask me when I knew I was in love with you, how it felt, what we did. And I want this to be that moment. I think you should kiss me, so I�
�ll have a lovely memory I can share with her.”

  Gavin’s heart was in his throat, making it impossible to speak. He eased Rolleen onto her back and shifted his body over hers, holding his weight on his elbows, settling his body into the warm, welcoming cradle of her thighs. “All right, Rolleen,” he said quietly. “Let’s make a memory together.”

  He threaded his hands into her hair and angled her beautiful, vulnerable face up to his in the moonlight before he lowered his mouth and touched his lips to hers.

  “Gavin.”

  The reverent sound of his name on her lips made his chest ache. He wanted to be gentle, to be tender, to be soft and giving and all the things a woman wanted from a man at such a moment. But he found himself plundering her mouth, grasping her hair to keep her from escaping his rough, urgent kisses, desperately taking what he wanted, what he needed from her. His tongue broached her lips, mimicking the sex act, as he pressed his body against hers, claiming her, making her his—if only for this brief moment.

  She was a willing captive. Her arms came around his shoulders and held him tight, her fingernails digging into his skin through his sweatshirt as her body arched up beneath him. Her tongue thrust into his mouth, surprising him and inflaming him. He became a feral animal, without thought or conscience, wanting only one thing.

  Gavin suddenly made a sound like a cat caught in a ringer and came up off of Rolleen like he’d been popped from a toaster. “Yow!” he yelled, jackknifing and grabbing for his toe.

  “What is it?” Rolleen cried.

  “A crab bit my toe!”

  Rolleen giggled.

  Gavin got the crab off a second before Rolleen shrieked and flapped her hands and cried, “There’s a crab in my hair!”

  Gavin laughed and scooted over to help her. “Be still so I can find it!” he said, gripping both her trembling hands in one of his. He pulled the crab free with the other and threw it aside, then stood and helped her up. “I guess we’d better find another picnic spot.” And then, “I’m sorry about that memory you wanted to make.”