“Dylan,” Henry said quietly. “You have to be a good boy and go with your mommy. I’ll see you again tomorrow, okay?”
Only after Henry gave him a big hug and again promised to see him tomorrow did Dylan go willingly with his mother. Henry walked them to the door, closed it behind them, and stood at the window to watch them drive away. Lindsay joined him, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning into his side. He draped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. He owed her. There was no way he would have made it through seeing Dylan again without breaking completely down if she hadn’t been with him.
“What should I do, gorgeous?”
“Exactly what you said you needed to. Think about it for a couple days.”
He turned to her and folded his hands loosely together behind her back. “Are you all right?”
“I won’t lie and say that was a pleasant experience, but I like that you care so much about me that you’re thinking about my state of mind even when yours is probably pretty rocky right now.”
“I do care about you,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. When she kissed him back, reassurance and relief wove together around him. “And I don’t think you realize just how lucky I am to call you mine.”
“Sure I do because I’m just as lucky to have you.” She touched her lips briefly to his again. “Let’s not talk about whether or not you should say yes to being Dylan’s godfather for a while and focus on having a good time with your family and mine and the rest of the good people of Northstar. In two days, then we’ll sit down and talk about it. That should give us both plenty of time to step back and prevent us from making a decision from a place of anger or pain or any other dark emotion.”
“I like that plan. I like even more that you said us. How ‘bout we start focusing on the fun with a soak at the Elkhorn? Noah hasn’t been yet, and after our ride today, he’d probably appreciate it even more.”
“Mmm. That sounds delightful. And after… maybe my parents will be up for watching Noah so we can explore other ways we’re lucky.”
“Someone’s awfully playful today.”
“Must be the mountain air.”
“Must be. Maybe it’s just me, but you’ve been a lot happier since we’ve been home.”
“It’s not just you.” Lindsay shook her head and laughed. “There’s that word again. It keeps popping up in my thoughts and conversations, so I have to wonder if it’s true.”
“What word?”
“Home.”
Chapter Sixteen
LINDSAY’S SUGGESTION TO WAIT two days before she and Henry talked about him agreeing or not to be Dylan’s godfather had very little to do with a desire to ensure he didn’t make the decision purely on his emotional reaction. Mostly, she’d wanted time to see how he interacted with Dylan and if the boy he’d believed was his son would pull his attention away from Noah.
She leaned over to see around the wall that separated the kitchen in John and Tracie’s house from the living room, spying on her boys. Henry sat with Dylan in his lap, but his focus was entirely on Noah and their intense game of checkers. In the last two days, Henry had drawn a line between Mel, Doug, and Dylan and Lindsay and Noah, and he’d made it very clear to everyone which side he stood on. Regardless, watching Henry with Dylan made Lindsay uncomfortable, but she had no hope of explaining why.
“I hear a rumor that the Ramshorn is highly interested in your rather formidable culinary skills,” Tracie commented from the stove where she was basting the Christmas Eve turkey.
“As a caterer, yes,” Lindsay replied, forcing her attention back to helping Henry’s mother with dinner. “I assume Henry told you June asked me to put together a small spread for Marvin and Mary Struthers yesterday.”
“Actually, your parents beat him to it. They were quite proud about it, and rightly so. How did it go?”
“They asked me when I would be available to cater for them.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know. I haven’t even begun to wrap my head around the possibility let alone started working on the details, but I’m grateful they’re willing to give me a shot. June said they were thinking of converting the small cabin right next to the lodge into a kitchen specifically for event catering and that I’d be able to use it until I get my own.”
“Well, there you go. Sounds like you could make a go of it.”
Lindsay beamed despite her troubling thoughts about Henry and Dylan. She’d made herself proud yesterday with an Asian-inspired menu and sampler for the Strutherses and June and Ben Conner. She was no closer to figuring out how to make a catering business work out here in this sparsely populated corner of Montana than she was to understanding why she was still waiting for her relationship with Henry to fail, but the reactions of the Ramshorn’s current and future owners to her dishes still made her giddy. She wanted nothing more than to dive right into daydreaming about it, but with Henry’s decision about Dylan hanging over her, she couldn’t afford the distraction. One issue at a time, she told herself.
“Henry told you what Mel and Doug want, didn’t he?”
Tracie nodded.
“What do you think about it?”
The older woman frowned and, like Lindsay had done just moments ago, leaned around the wall to peer into the living room. She returned to basting the turkey before she answered. “I’m torn. I love that little boy to death, and I selfishly would like to keep him in the family in some way, but Mel…. I’ve never been fond of her, and her decision to assume Henry was her son’s father lost her most of the few points she had with me.”
Lindsay wasn’t surprised to hear that; Henry’s mother hadn’t made it a secret that she tolerated Mel, and barely at that.
“This idea stinks of being yet another ploy to keep him around, just like asking him for money to start the salon and just like telling him she was pregnant with his kid when she obviously wasn’t sure.”
“Why would she need him around now? She has Doug to take care of her, and he made it pretty clear the other day that he could.”
Tracie didn’t answer. Instead, she shoved the turkey back into the oven and, with her previously graceful movements made rough by anger, nearly sloshed hot grease and drippings out of the roasting pan.
“You don’t like that she expects to be taken care of, and you think she wants to keep Henry on a chain as insurance.”
“That’s a polite way to put it.”
“I’m guessing that’s also exactly why you’ve never cared for her.”
“Not quite. I never trusted her to love Henry for who he is. It’s one thing if my boys want to take care of or even spoil their women, but I didn’t raise my sons to be walking wallets. They have so much more to give than that, and I hated seeing Henry’s finer qualities ignored in favor of how much money he earned.”
“His finer qualities being his sense of humor, his honesty, his generosity, and the fact that he’d break his own heart before he hurt someone he loves?” Lindsay inquired lightly. She picked up the bowl of potatoes and grabbed the peeler out of the drawer beside Tracie. She started peeling and cubing the potatoes and dropping them in the pot to be boiled and later mashed. “Or perhaps it’s his devotion to his family, his thoughtfulness as a lover, and that he’ll be a wonderful father that you wish she’d wanted instead of his paycheck.”
“All of the above.” Tracie grinned, and Lindsay realized that Henry had inherited her favorite devilish smile from his mother. “But you see it, Lindsay. You understand his real value and have from the very beginning. It was obvious from the moment you talked him out of being pissed at Nick for telling us about Dylan.”
Henry’s mother wasn’t asking; she was stating fact.
“Yes, I do. Just as he understands mine and reminds me that I have it.” Lindsay eyed her companion with one corner of her mouth lifted. “Is that your way of telling me you’d approve of your son marrying me if he were so inclined?”
“I more t
han approve. I’d be delighted to call you my daughter-in-law, Lindsay, and if it were up to me, you’d already have a ring on your finger like Skye does.”
“But you wouldn’t have approved of him marrying Melanie.”
“If he’d wanted to, there isn’t much I could have done to stop him, but no, I wouldn’t have approved. It takes a lot of work to run a ranch, and everyone has to pitch in.”
“And Mel didn’t do that?”
“You look in the living room again and tell me what she’s doing right now.”
Lindsay craned her head around the wall and peeked into the living room. “She’s sitting on the couch with Doug.”
“Exactly. She could be in here helping with dinner like you are, but she isn’t.”
“Maybe she doesn’t feel welcome in here.”
“I might agree with you, but even in the beginning when she was still trying to impress me, she never volunteered to help out around the place. That says a lot about her to me. Just like the fact that you’re right here peeling potatoes says a lot about you. You are a rare gem, and Henry should consider himself blessed to have found you… and I know he does, or he wouldn’t have invited not only you and your son but also your parents for Christmas.”
Lindsay smiled shyly, unused to such blatant praise from anyone but her parents and Henry. “Thank you.”
Tracie abruptly switched topics. “So, what about Mel asking him to be Dylan’s godfather bothers you? Because it obviously does.”
Lindsay started to respond, but Tracie held up her finger for silence.
“No, no, sweetheart. Don’t tell me. That’s something you need to talk with him about first, and I think it’s probably time to do so. Mel and Doug are leaving first thing tomorrow morning so they can make it back to Denver in time to spend some of Christmas with their families, and without them here, you both might be tempted to put it off. You don’t want that hanging over you when you should be enjoying yourselves and each other.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lindsay replied. She finished peeling and cubing the last potato and reached for the ingredients for caramelized carrots.
Tracie blocked her. “I’ll get these started. You can do whatever it is you do with them after you’ve talked with Henry.”
Lindsay wasn’t ready to talk about Henry and Dylan yet, but Tracie was right that she needed to get it out of the way. The doubts swirling around the topic dimmed her enjoyment of what was otherwise a marvelously fun day with the Hammonds, the Hathaways, and her parents. Since she knew Tracie wouldn’t back down, Lindsay wandered out of the kitchen. Instead of going straight to Henry and asking him to step outside with her so they could speak in private—something that wasn’t likely to happen indoors with so many people in the house—she leaned against the wall and observed the occupants of the living room.
Henry and Noah were still playing checkers, though by the number of pieces on the board, she guessed they’d started a new game. Will sat on the sidelines with Jessie snuggled up next to him, and the cousins watched the game intently. Henry answered their incessant questions about how the game was played with complete patience and an indulgent smile that told her he enjoyed it. Even when Dylan swatted half his pieces off the board, Henry chuckled and put them back. Ignoring the confusing emotions the sight of him with Dylan incited, she couldn’t deny that the two of them together were adorable. Any doubts she might’ve had that he’d make a great father had vanished entirely over the last two days of watching him play with his niece and nephew, Noah, and Dylan. A pang of maternal longing brought to mind her conversation with Aelissm on the ride to Seattle for Shannon O’Neil’s stage debut. Did she want another baby?
With Henry, absolutely I do, she admitted with a certainty that having and raising a child with him would be a partnership and a joy instead of the lonely, often frustrating experience she’d had with Max and Noah.
Before the pang turned into an ache, she shifted her attention to the others in the room. Her mother and Skye’s sat on the L-shaped couch with Skye and Aaron at their feet paging through a wedding magazine. Steve, Skye’s father, and John sat at a card table playing a noisy game of rummy with Jeremiah Mackey, occasionally asking questions or giving input on the wedding planning. Nick added his opinion once or twice from his seat on the shorter section of the couch, but his attention was mostly on his wife, who lay beside him with her head pillowed on his thigh. Beth’s eyes were closed, but Lindsay wasn’t sure if she was asleep or merely resting. Tracie had chased her out of the kitchen some while ago when she couldn’t stop yawning, and instead of arguing the point, she’d obeyed. Lindsay tilted her head. The ribbed ice-blue sweater revealed something her bulky winter coat had hidden, and Lindsay decided the slender woman’s belly was thicker than it had been back in August. Pregnancy would certainly explain Beth’s exhaustion and the irritability she’d mentioned the other day. The proud, wonderstruck light in Nick’s eyes were further confirmation.
I wonder if Henry’s expression was the same when Mel told him she was pregnant with Dylan, Lindsay mused. Or if it will be whenever he has children.
Shaking her head to clear those thoughts from it, she glanced at last to the primary reason for her unsettled emotions. Melanie and Doug sat together on the loveseat apart from everyone else, plainly the odd ones out, and impatience was beginning to pinch both their expressions. Cut those two out of the picture, and the scene before her was the image of Christmas joy.
With that thought, she asked Henry to join her outside when he and Noah were finished with this game.
“Sure. What’s up, love?”
“It’s time to talk about Dylan,” she said too quietly for Mel and Doug to hear.
“Will, do you think you know enough to take over for me?” Henry asked.
“I said after your game,” Lindsay said.
“I know you did, but this is important. What d’ya say, Will?”
“I think I can.”
Henry scooted Dylan off his lap and, taking the boy’s hand, led him over to his parents. When the toddler realized what Henry was doing, he was not happy. Firmly, Henry told him to stay, then turned hard eyes on Doug and Mel.
“You need to take your son for a bit.” His tone was both an order and a reprimand.
Henry started to walk away, and Dylan let out an ear-piercing scream. Henry turned around and gave him a firm no followed by a command to stay with his mother.
“Dada!” Dylan screamed.
“I’m not daddy,” Henry corrected quickly.
“Henny. Stay.”
“No. But I’ll be right back.” He turned to Mel and Doug. “If you think me agreeing to be his godfather means I’m going to raise your son for you, I’ll give you my answer right now with no discussion. No.”
“That’s not what we want, Henry,” Doug said quickly.
“Then prove it by being parents.”
Even Lindsay jerked back in surprise, and everyone in the room stared at Henry with a mixture of shock and pride or—from Melanie and Doug—embarrassment. Henry took Lindsay’s hand and led her the short distance to the entryway, then helped her into her coat and shrugged into his.
Outside, it was another gray-skied, flurry-filled day but mercifully, it was also relatively warmer than it had been with the thermometer reading twenty degrees. Instead of launching into the matter at hand, Henry pulled Lindsay against him and kissed her soundly.
“Looks like Noah is not only going to get his white Christmas but one with new snow falling.” He tipped his head back and closed his eyes with a faint smile flirting about his lips. “I’m so used to this that I’d forgotten how incredible it is, but you and that wonderful son of yours have done a thorough job of reminding me. You both make life so much richer.”
“Believe me, Henry, the feeling is mutual.”
Alone with him in the hush of the falling snow, her worries slipped away again as they only did when she was here in Northstar with him to show her that there was more to life than surviva
l. And that made her all the more anxious to get the subject of Dylan out of the way so she could get back to wallowing in her happiness.
“I thought you were struggling with the decision about Dylan,” she murmured, “but what you said in there makes me wonder if you haven’t already made up your mind.”
“I am struggling with it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to stand up for myself when I need to. So let’s talk.”
She expected him to let her go, but he didn’t. Instead, he led her around the house to the snow-covered picnic table, brushed off a portion of the table and sat, pulling her onto his lap and folding his arms around her.
“What are you feeling?” she asked.
“Too much that’s distracting me from what I want to be feeling right now.”
“Such as?”
“An overwhelming and amazing love for you and your son.” He nuzzled her neck and sighed. “And a gladness that our families get along so well because that’ll make other gatherings and holidays just as magnificent as this one.”
“Henry… about Dylan.”
“I know what you meant.” He sighed, searching her face as he tucked her hair behind her ear and brushed snowflakes from her shoulder. “My heart wants to do it, but my brain isn’t convinced this isn’t another trick of Mel’s.”
“Your mom said something like that, and I admit that I’ve thought it myself. I guess in the end you have to decide if that possibility is acceptable to you.”
“How about you? How do you feel about this?”
“This isn’t a decision I can make for you, Henry, but I think you should trust your heart rather than your brain no matter how I feel about it because what I feel doesn’t really matter.”
“You are my partner, Lindsay, and how this affects and will affect you down the road matters far more to me than what Doug or Melanie want for their son. I’m not asking you to make the decision for me. I’m asking you to tell me why it bothers you so I can make the right decision for us. And don’t try to say it doesn’t bug you because some of that carefree joy you seem to reserve for Northstar has dimmed since our talk with Doug and Mel. So… ”
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