“Deliver toys and baskets?”
“You. I’d like to help you deliver toys and baskets.”
As much as it heated her up a few more degrees to hear that, it also set off an alarm in her. She liked this guy more and more with every minute they spent together, and that just shouldn’t be happening. Now, of all times, she should be totally focused on the coming of her baby, on preparing for bringing her baby home, on her own future as a single parent. She should not be focusing on a man.
But it would be nice to have help tomorrow...
“I was thinking,” he went on, “that my going along would also give me a chance to see what’s happening with some of the still-struggling folks around here. I’d like to make sure they aren’t being overlooked by the reconstruction teams.”
She could hardly say no to that, could she?
Instead she said, “Okay...”
“Just tell me when you were planning to start, I’ll come over and load the back of my truck, and we’ll do some early Christmas giving.”
Nina told him the time as he put his coat back on and they headed for her apartment door.
When they’d reached it, Dallas turned that lopsided smile to her and said, “Still no heartburn?”
Nina laughed. “None. You?”
“Threatening,” he admitted, making her laugh even more.
“You know what they say about your thirties—your digestion slows down,” she teased him.
He laughed. “I don’t think anybody says that. And it’s more likely caused by you getting the damned hottest wings that place sells.”
She pointed to herself. “Not thirty, no heartburn.” Then to him. “Over thirty, heartburn.” Then she shrugged as if she’d proven her point.
He laughed again. “You know, you’re just a little bit evil.”
“As long as it’s just a little bit...”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he confessed.
Then there it was—Nina was thinking about him kissing her again. Out of the blue. For no rational reason. Involuntarily.
Ahh, this is crazy, she lamented.
But it was still there.
Enough so that she felt her chin tip up to him, her eyes look more deeply into his, her lips part...
Stop, stop, a voice in her head shouted.
But he was coming closer. Bending slightly. Aiming...
He was going to do it. He was going to kiss her! And, oh, but she wanted him to!
Then he kissed her all right.
But he detoured and landed one on the tip of her nose.
And it wasn’t enough.
It just wasn’t.
She tilted her chin higher still and she kissed him.
Barely.
Briefly.
A mere brush of her lips to his. Not actually enough to give her more than a hint of what a real kiss from him might be, but still, she kissed him.
And then she looked into those blue eyes and noticed that his eyebrows were not arched high.
But he didn’t say anything. He just smiled a very slow smile as he straightened up and said, “I’ll see you around eight tomorrow morning to load up and we’ll get on the road by nine.”
Nina could only nod and say good-night before he left.
Before he left her to the voice in her head shrieking, I kissed him! I kissed him!
Then she told herself in no uncertain terms that a person who was eight-plus months pregnant had no business going around kissing men. Especially not Traubs.
But despite that, she was having trouble regretting it.
And she couldn’t help wishing she’d done a better job of it when she’d had the chance...
Chapter Six
“Is this perfect timing or what? Breakfast!” Dallas said when he went in the back door of his parents’ house at seven o’clock on Saturday morning.
“Ellie Traub, you’re a saint,” he added, setting the bag he’d brought in on the floor and taking off his coat to hang on a hook behind the door before leaning over to give his mother a peck on the cheek.
She was standing at the counter, coffeepot in hand. That greeting and the impromptu kiss he didn’t ordinarily bestow had stalled her midpour. “Aren’t you chipper this morning,” she marveled.
“Suns out melting the snow, the sky is as clear a blue as you could want, the air is crisp—it’s a beautiful day.”
His father’s head pivoted slowly in his direction. Bob Traub took off his reading glasses, set down his newspaper and stared at his son.
“And I’m starving and that bacon smells fantastic!” Dallas announced.
His mother finished pouring coffee and reached into the cupboard for another cup for Dallas.
“There’s not only bacon, there’s sausage, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and toast and jam, too,” she informed him, listing what was already prepared and piled on platters in the center of the kitchen table. “You’re lucky there’s anything left—Braden and your boys were already here to eat before they went out to the lake.”
There was still plenty left. Having raised six sons, Ellie Traub had long ago gotten into the habit of cooking enough to feed an army.
Dallas took the chair he’d sat in at every meal growing up, joining his father while his mother got him a plate, napkin and silverware, and served him that steaming cup of coffee.
“There’s cheese and peppers in the eggs, and hot sauce if you want it,” his mother said as she sat down across from him, watching him.
The mention of hot sauce reminded him of Nina and the hot wings and the night before. And the fact that she’d kissed him...
“Eggs and hot sauce make you happy?” his mom asked, sounding puzzled.
Dallas hadn’t realized that he was smiling until that moment. But he couldn’t seem to stop it. Not with the thought that in an hour he was going to be with Nina again. All day long.
“It’s nothing,” he answered, heaping food on his plate.
He ate heartily, complimenting his mother’s cooking and his father’s new choice of chicken feed for producing an improvement in the flavor of the eggs.
“And this coffee,” he said after a sip of it. “Is there something different about it? It’s great!”
“Same coffee, made the same way,” his mother informed him, watching him even more intently.
“Jam’s your mother’s, though,” his father said. “Delicious even though we had to use Colorado peaches because the flood did so much damage to the fruit trees around here.”
Taking his father’s comment as a recommendation, Dallas slathered the homemade peach jam on his toast, nodding as he did at the grocery sack near the door. “There’s that change of clothes you wanted for the boys, Mom. Shoes, too. You’re thinking that they’ll be back from fishing around noon and you’ll head for Kalispell?”
“If they make it until noon,” his father piped up. “Last time I took those boys out on the ice the cold got to them after a couple of hours, and we had to come back. I’m betting they’ll be here by ten and we’ll be having lunch in Kalispell.”
“The drive should be good, though. No bad weather on the horizon. A really, really beautiful day!” Dallas said.
“Chipper,” his mother said to his father. “He’s chipper.”
Bob Traub shrugged. “He’s in a good mood.”
“For the first time in a year. He’s been down-in-the-mouth and mopey, and none of us could get him out of it, and now, all of a sudden—”
“I’m sitting right here and the two of you are talking about me as if I’m invisible,” Dallas said with a laugh.
Neither of his parents commented. Instead, his mother looked at him again and said, “What are your plans for today and tonight, with the boys off yo
ur hands?”
A dicey question. He considered lying. But he was a grown man, and it was his own business how he spent his time.
Besides, it was likely that word would get back to them about what he was actually going to do today, and he’d just get caught.
“Thought I’d help deliver the Christmas gifts and food baskets going out from that Santa’s Workshop deal,” he said as if there wasn’t any Crawford connection.
But both of his parents paused their breakfasts to look at him as if he’d just grown gills.
“That’s that thing coming from Crawford’s General Store,” his mother said. “Where you went the other night to help wrap presents...”
“Yep.”
Then from his father, “Braden said that Crawford girl was with you and the boys last night.”
“Nina—the boys knew her by name. Said they’ve been to her house...” his mother added.
“They’ve been to her apartment—she lives over the store. She wanted to thank me for that whole blizzard mishap.”
Dallas saw one of his mother’s eyebrows raise. “She’s the pregnant Crawford, isn’t she?” Ellie Traub said with a note of alarm in her voice.
Dallas had finished eating and sat back with his hand around his coffee cup. He knew all the negatives. Nina was a Crawford. She was pregnant. She was only twenty-five. Top all of that off with the fact that he had three kids, was still stinging some from Laurel leaving him and that he’d spent the past year just about as down on marriage and relationships and women in general as anyone could be, and there was nothing about what was happening with Nina that made any sense.
And yet...
He just couldn’t seem to help himself. He couldn’t seem to force himself to stay away from her. She made him feel good. And it was such a relief after the past year of feeling rotten....
“Yes, Nina is the pregnant Crawford,” he answered his mother’s question belatedly. And more somberly than anything he’d said since coming in the back door.
“Is she the reason you’re in a better mood?” his mother persisted, sounding even more alarmed.
“The boys were cheerier, too, now that I think about it,” his father observed before Dallas had a chance to answer.
“Because of her?” Ellie Traub demanded.
Dallas understood where the outrage in his mother’s tone was coming from. She’d gone to great lengths to make things as normal and upbeat as possible for her grandsons since Laurel had disappeared, to do everything she could to make them happy. Of course it would hurt Ellie’s feelings if she thought someone else had been more successful at it, let alone a Crawford.
And addressing that gave Dallas a way of avoiding the subject of whether or not Nina was responsible for his own lighter spirits.
“The boys are just looking forward to Christmas and being out of school for winter break after this week. And you’re doing things like taking them to Kalispell today—that’s what’s making them cheerier.”
“But you? Is that Crawford girl the reason you’re in a better mood?” his mother demanded.
“Maybe it’s just time passing,” Bob Traub suggested to his wife.
But Dallas decided in that moment that he wasn’t going to mislead them so he said, “I know Nina is a Crawford and around here the Crawfords are the enemy. But...I don’t know...there’s nothing wrong with her that I can see. She’s a decent, kind, warm—”
“You like her,” his mother accused him.
But, Dallas noted, with shock rather than rancor suddenly.
And so he admitted more than he even wanted to admit to himself.
“I do like her. She’s a nice person.”
“That’s it? That’s all there is to it?” his father asked hopefully.
“That’s it,” Dallas said because that needed to be all that was going on with Nina. “And she’s doing a good thing with this Santa’s Workshop deal, so I wanted to help out. Her friends and neighbors are our friends and neighbors, too, and making sure they have Christmas this year is important, no matter what.”
He knew his parents agreed, and that was why they had nothing to say to it.
But after a moment his father said, “That girl is a Crawford though...”
“And an unwed mother,” Ellie Traub cautioned.
Dallas sighed. “And if I don’t take off I’m going to be late,” he said, standing and taking his dishes to the sink.
As he got into his coat, he thanked them in advance for the boys’ outing to Kalispell and told them to drive safely, that he’d be waiting when they got home this evening.
But it was really the time between now and then that he was thinking about. That he was looking forward to. The time he was about to spend with Nina.
* * *
Nina had not been excited by the prospect of delivering the food baskets and Santa’s Workshop gifts. She hated that the flood had left so much need for the community and she was dreading seeing people she knew and liked still struggling in the aftermath. Especially at this time of year.
But sharing the chore with Dallas made all the difference. And not just because he did all the heavy work.
He approached each household like a friend making any ordinary Christmas visit to say hello and drop off a holiday token of that friendship. There was no air of charity to any of it—that was something Nina had set out to do, and she appreciated that Dallas offered that same attitude. But in the process he still managed to glean important information about how people were faring.
While Nina mostly chatted with the women of the households to learn their viewpoints and continuing difficulties, Dallas ended up on many tours that exhibited what progress—or lack of progress—had been made on houses or outlying properties. And several times Nina heard him make promises of his own services or resources after the holidays.
Together they came away with a lengthy list to pass along to the reconstruction crews and the other recovery efforts for special attention to things that were being overlooked or for additional needs that should be met. They made a good team—that was what occurred to Nina as the day progressed.
A good team. A twosome.
But not a couple—that was something that she had to keep reminding herself. They were not a couple.
Even though that was how it felt as they spent the day driving around together, chatting, comparing notes, sharing snacks—some that Nina hand-fed to Dallas as he drove—and then stopping to pay their joint visits.
It also struck her that in her entire four years with Leo she’d never had a day quite like that one and never felt as connected and as couplish as she did with Dallas.
But regardless of how it seemed—or felt—to her, they were not a couple.
A good team, yes—something else she’d never experienced with Leo.
A twosome—only for the day.
But not a couple.
Even if she had kissed him the night before.
Which she was determined should—and would—never happen again.
It was after seven that evening before the last of the baskets and gifts were delivered. As they headed back to the General Store and Nina’s apartment, Dallas said, “That was a long day.”
“It was,” Nina agreed, sounding as weary as she felt. Ordinarily she had energy to spare, but she’d spent most of the previous night awake, worrying about that kiss even as she relived it again and again. So she was running on about four hours of sleep.
“I’m not much of a cook,” he said conversationally, making her think of the TV dinners she’d seen at his place when she’d brought the Christmas tree. “But I do have one specialty—chicken in a butter and lemon sauce that I serve over linguine. Could I interest you in that for dinner tonight?”
“You want to cook me dinner?” Nina asked tentatively, u
nsure if he was serious.
“I do,” he said firmly. “I’d like to fix you dinner, share it with you, then clean up the mess—all while you sit with your feet up, a beverage of your choice in hand and watch without lifting a finger.”
“You’d like to do all that,” she said dubiously, ignoring how wonderful it sounded to her. “Why, when you’ve just had as long a day as I’ve had?”
“Because all I’ve seen you do since the blizzard is work your little tail off, and today topped everything. I keep wondering when you get to be pampered. You do so much for everyone else, despite being pregnant—even though you don’t look it—and it seems to me that there should be someone else doing something for you every now and then. And tonight I’d like it if you’d let it be me.”
“Really?” Had her worries overnight that he might have hated her kissing him been for naught?
“Really. Play Cleopatra on the Throne and let me pamper you tonight.”
“I don’t have anything in gold lamé,” she warned, telling herself to say no to this, to let today end now, but incapable of finding one whit of willpower to actually do that.
“I just want you comfortable. You can wear your bathrobe if you want.”
“To a fancy dinner made just for me? Never!”
He cast her a half grin. “I didn’t promise fancy, just chicken and linguine.”
Nina laughed at him. “Okay. It sounds good,” she conceded.
He pulled into a parking spot behind the store, near the back stairs to the outside entrance of her apartment, and turned off the truck engine.
“Then you go upstairs while I go shopping downstairs, and we’ll do this,” he instructed.
But that’s all they’d be doing, Nina silently told herself. A simple dinner. Between people who were maybe becoming friends instead of enemies.
But nothing more than friends.
Friends who didn’t kiss each other good-night...
* * *
“Okay, enough! Your dinner was delicious, my kitchen is spotless, now come and sit down—you’re making me feel guilty,” Nina insisted an hour and a half later when Dallas had accomplished all he’d set out to do for her.
THE MAVERICK'S CHRISTMAS BABY Page 9