by Carol Voss
“Yes, of course.”
“You look a little...flustered.” Liz gave her a puzzled look. “Here, while you juggle the baby, let me set Joey up at one of the kids’ tables.”
Alyssa shook her head to object, but Liz already had Joey and his sticky doughnut well in hand. Appearing to need help was the last thing she wanted. She grabbed plenty of extra napkins and followed Liz to the corner of children’s tables. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Good to see you. Sorry, but I have to rush off to teach Sunday school now.” Liz hurried away.
“You have such a darling baby.” The young woman who’d offered to help Alyssa at Ben’s newspaper office held a cup of coffee out to her. “Would you like this?”
She shook her head. “It’s too difficult to drink it with the baby.”
“That’s okay. I’ll drink it myself.” She took a sip. “I’m Sharon Applegate. I work for Ben Cooper.”
“I remember you.”
“Have you known him a long time?”
“Not long.” Alyssa frowned. She certainly hadn’t known him long enough to account for her unexplainable reaction to his touch a few minutes ago.
“Did you know him in Chicago before he moved here?”
“No, I didn’t.”
The young woman gave her a questioning look. “But you must be old friends. You and your children are staying with him, right?”
Were Ben’s employees curious about his private life? At least, Sharon Applegate seemed to be. But if she thought she’d learn anything from Alyssa, she was mistaken. “You have a beautiful church,” she commented.
Sharon’s eyes widened as she realized Alyssa’s change of topic. “Yes. I think so, too.”
“Hi, Sharon.” Ben stopped at Alyssa’s side.
Did she sense a new intimacy between Ben and herself or was it only her imagination? To be safe, Alyssa forbade herself from responding to him in any way. The last thing either of them needed was people gossiping.
Sharon offered him a bright smile.
But Ben’s attention was on Joey. “Looks like he needs help.” He leaned to wipe Joey’s face and hands with the napkins Alyssa had provided, then he lifted Joey from his little chair and hurried off with him. “Bathroom to clean him up,” he called over his shoulder.
The practical matter of a small boy’s encounter with chocolate overriding her anxiety, Alyssa wanted to cheer for Ben’s quick thinking. “Sticky doughnuts and little boys are a disaster in the making.”
Sharon turned appraising eyes on Alyssa. “Well, it’s nice seeing you again.” She walked away.
Alyssa closed her eyes. Was Sharon interested in Ben as more than an employer? Or he in her, for that matter? But hadn’t he said he hadn’t dated for a long time? Why was she wondering about his relationship with the single women in town? He was a young, vibrant man. Of course, he must be interested even if he didn’t date. And why wouldn’t they be interested in him, tall, dark, handsome, single father that he was?
But there was a lot more to Ben than his appearance. He was a complex, warm, exciting man with a heart too big for his own good and a daughter who needed all his attention and did not welcome outsiders.
And Alyssa? She was still a new widow with two little boys to provide for and raise while doing her very best to grow into the strong woman she longed to become. Nowhere in that mix did she see room for a relationship.
And she was really beginning to regret that.
* * *
The air was crisp. Flashes of sun glinted through tree branches heavy with snow. The shoosh of their snowshoes, the swish of the toboggan tied to Coop’s waist and the scuttle of an occasional small animal were the only sounds in the woods.
Coop was sweating bullets in spite of the cold temperature. Breaking trail through new snow burned a ton of energy. Which was probably helpful considering how much he’d been looking forward to whisking Alyssa away from the decorating extravaganza going on at the Victorian.
He didn’t begin to understand what had happened between them in the fellowship room this morning. One minute everything was normal, the next...he’d been lost in Alyssa looking at him as if seeing him for the first time and really liking what she saw.
Or was that only what he longed to believe? He glanced back at her, a smile winding through him. Looked like she was handling her snowshoes well. They were a little big for her weight, which should help her in the new snow that had fallen overnight. Stopping to rest a minute, he dropped his poles and wriggled his backpack off his shoulders. He ripped off his jacket and stuffed it in the backpack. “How’s it going?”
She stopped a few feet away. “Good. My calf muscles are complaining, though.”
“Mine, too. They always do the first couple times each winter. It looks like you’re following my instructions.”
“I’m trying.” She took a few steps to demonstrate.
“Looking good.” Was he kidding? She looked amazing in her short, blue parka that matched her eyes and a jaunty, blue-and-green plaid hat and scarf. Dark blue snow pants hugged her legs, and Eskimo boots looked as if they’d stand up to the weather. A vision to behold. “You could try exaggerating your stride a little more.”
She took a few practice strides. Stopped. Looked to him for suggestions.
“Perfect.” He wanted to show her anyway, but he had a feeling it would only be an excuse to be closer to her. Turning, he pointed to small hoofprints in the snow. “Deer.”
“Do you think they’re watching us?”
“Could be. Maybe we’re traipsing through their living room.” He looked down the steep hill. “That’s the grove where Harold told us the Frasers are.”
“How do we get down there?”
“I’ll break a trail. Then you can sit on your snowshoes and slide down.”
“Sounds like cheating.”
“It’s called glissading. You’ll rest your leg muscles and pack the trail at the same time, so it will be easier to bring the trees up the hill later. All you have to do is remember to keep the toes of the shoes up.”
She nibbled her bottom lip in that way she did.
He couldn’t look away. He strode to her. “Let me take your poles.”
Avoiding his eyes, she handed them to him.
Why couldn’t she meet his eyes? Was she struggling with their being alone, too? He’d sure like to think so. Not that it helped him keep his mind on the task at hand. He clumsily tied her poles to his backpack with the saw, then lifted the pack onto his shoulders. “See you at the bottom of the hill.”
He grabbed his poles and took off running downhill in exaggerated steps, using his poles as he slid slightly on the snow. The toboggan tugging at his waist challenged his balance, but he soon got the hang of it. Reaching the bottom, he motioned for Alyssa to slide down.
She came flying, squealing and laughing all the way.
He laughed with her. It was great watching her have a good time for a change. To be young and free and unencumbered by the disappointments and hardships she’d had to deal with.
She stopped a few feet past him, stood and brushed snow off her snow pants, her face flushed and exuberant. “That was fun!”
Chuckling, he covered the ground between them, ready to give her a hug. Instead, he dumped his backpack on the toboggan and began untying her poles and the saw from it. “You like snowshoeing?”
“I do. Especially glissading.” She threw her arms open as if to embrace her surroundings. “How could I not love getting out in the middle of all this?”
“My sentiments exactly.” The thought of walking into her outstretched arms nudged his mind. He managed to squelch the idea and hand her the ski poles. He motioned to the stand of pine not far away. “Shall we go cut the perfect tree for the Stefanos’ Victorian?”
; “Let’s do it.” She strode beside him.
He pointed at a great-looking spruce. “How about that one?”
“Too fat.”
“Too fat? I wasn’t aware we were looking for a skinny tree.”
“Tall and skinny and full. But not so full that it interferes with traffic flow in the foyer. It has to fit in that space by the stairs. I have exact measurements in my pocket.”
Of course she did.
“Besides, that tree isn’t a Fraser fir.”
“Right. I wouldn’t recognize a Fraser if I saw it.”
“They’re a tad bluer and have flatter needles.”
“You’re an expert on trees, too? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I do know my Christmas trees.”
He grinned at the saucy confidence in her tone and squelched the urge to hug her...again. A hug could easily lead to a kiss, his mind argued. Not helpful. He pointed at a tree that might fit the bill. “What about that one?”
She gave her head a shake and kept walking, scanning the woods.
Was she as occupied with finding a tree as she appeared? Had kissing even entered her mind? Once or twice anyway?
“Do you think there will be enough room on the toboggan for the tree for the Victorian and the one for the fellowship room? Or will we have to come back?”
Time alone another day? He liked the sound of that. “I vote for coming back, but we can see if we have room once we find one for the Victorian. Will you have time this week for another trip?”
“I have several projects in the works for the cottage and for the fund-raiser. Not sure how many I’ll finish before Thanksgiving. And I still need to shop for a couch. But if we need to make another trip...”
He smiled. “I vote for another trip.”
She smiled back. “Me, too. It will be fun.”
“I was thinking, it’s kind of nice being alone,” he admitted. “Without the kids.”
“Yes, it is.” Without warning, she veered off and disappeared into the trees.
“Alyssa?” He didn’t know where she’d disappeared to, but she had agreed it was nice being alone with him. He wanted to whoop for joy. He quickly untied the toboggan from his belt and went after her, saw in hand.
She stood studying the attributes of a tall, slim fir.
He moved to stand beside her, then looked at the tree she’d been studying. “Is this it?”
“No.” She moved on.
He followed her, doing his best to keep the mood light when he wanted so much more. “That tree didn’t meet your tall, skinny, full criteria? Or wasn’t it a Fraser fir?”
“It was a good Fraser for the fellowship room. But we need one with more presence for the Victorian. Probably a foot taller. The Victorian has ten-foot ceilings, you know.”
He knew the ceilings were high, but he hadn’t measured the way she had.
She walked deeper into the woods, stopping to assess a tree now and then and moving on.
He followed, the trees too thick for him to walk beside her.
A startled rabbit took off, leaving a trail in the pristine snow.
“This one is nice.” She used her poles to maneuver around the tree to get a better look. “What do you think?”
He shrugged. “Looks perfect.” But then, so had several others, so what did he know?
Laying down her poles, she crouched to look under the tree. “That trunk looks like it will take a while to saw through.”
“So this is the one?”
“This is it.” She flashed a smile.
The smile catching him totally off guard, he shot her a helpless grin he didn’t have the presence of mind to hide.
Her gaze seemed to snag and hold. Her smiling eyes growing serious, she made a little sound that zinged straight to his heart.
Did that small sound mean he wasn’t the only one struggling with feelings? Or that she recognized that he was battling with his? He didn’t waste another guess as to what she might be thinking. Stumbling in his snowshoes, he managed to move closer.
She squinted in a worried kind of way.
But worried wasn’t what he was looking for. Not even close. She clearly wasn’t ready for his kiss, no matter how much he wanted her to be. Raising the saw in a victorious gesture he didn’t feel, he turned away and blustered ahead. “Ready to cut the perfect tree?”
“I’m sorry,” she answered quietly.
Dragging a breath, he turned back to her. “It’s okay,” he lied. Doing his best to accept his disappointment, he went to work.
Chapter Eleven
The boys long asleep, Digger jumped up and raced for the back door before Alyssa heard Ben’s truck in the driveway. She’d been thinking about him all evening. Reliving the moment yesterday in the woods when she’d realized he meant to kiss her. She’d panicked.
She drew a deep breath. The problem was, she’d wanted his kiss.
But she couldn’t want that. Hope would be so upset. But Hope wasn’t the only reason. Alyssa couldn’t let her feelings for Ben get in the way of learning to live on her own terms. Not this time. Not even with Ben Cooper, no matter how much she admired him or wanted to kiss him.
She deposited the final bag of cookies she’d baked for the fund-raiser into the freezer drawer. Her plan to bake with Hope after they’d cooked dinner together had fallen by the wayside when she learned Hope had a school ski trip with Ben acting as one of the chaperones. A good experience for them. She was glad he was keeping up with his daughter’s scheduled activities.
But Alyssa wanted to do something to put Hope more at ease with her, which didn’t seem to be happening while she taught the girl the finer points of cooking. If only she could figure out what might help. Leaning against the counter, she picked up her cup of tea and thoughtfully took a sip.
Ben and Hope slammed into the mudroom, continuing their conversation while they climbed out of their snow gear.
“Why can’t I, Dad? Stephanie’s mom said it was okay.”
“I’m not Stephanie’s mom,” Ben calmly answered.
“Oh! That is so irritating when you do that.” Hope’s voice took on a defiant tone. “Give me one good reason.”
“I told you, I don’t want you mutilating yourself.”
Mutilating herself? What did Hope want? A tattoo?
“You’re the only person in the whole world who thinks that,” Hope huffed. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
“No, even if it were true.”
“Well, it bothers me a lot. Sometimes it’s like you live in the dark ages.”
Alyssa cringed, wanting to rush in and defend Ben. Wouldn’t that go over well with Hope? She doubted he would appreciate it either.
“Do you have homework that needs doing before bed?” Ben asked quietly.
“I did it at school,” Hope grumped.
“Good job.” He strode into the kitchen, his cheeks ruddy from the outdoors, his strong, lean body seemingly coiled for action. Shaking his head, he met Alyssa’s gaze.
She gave him an encouraging look.
Hope marched across the kitchen and took the milk out of the refrigerator.
Alyssa pointed to the table. “I put a plate of cookies out if you two are hungry.”
Hope silently continued fixing a mug of hot chocolate.
“Thanks, Alyssa.” Ben grabbed a couple cookies off the plate on the table. “Sure smells good in here, doesn’t it, Hope?”
“I’m not hungry.” Waiting for her hot chocolate to heat in the microwave, she stared at Alyssa.
“Did you have fun skiing?”
Hope shrugged. “Most of my friends weren’t there.”
“They don’t like to ski?”
“They’re too sca
red to try.”
“We could take a few of your friends to a hill with us.” Ben reached for another cookie. “I could give them some pointers. Maybe then, they’d feel more comfortable going with the group.”
“I can ask.” Hope shrugged, but she sounded a little more positive. After the microwave bell pinged, she retrieved her mug. “Dad, have you noticed Alyssa’s ears?”
Alyssa put her hand to her ear. “What about my ears?”
Hope focused intently on her. “How old were you when you had your ears pierced?”
Uh-oh. Hope wanted to get her ears pierced? Alyssa had the sinking feeling she wasn’t going to win points from Hope with her answer. On the bright side, she wouldn’t thwart Ben’s plan for his daughter either. “I had my ears pierced when I graduated from law school. It was a present to myself, you might say.”
Hope glowered at her.
“My father felt as strongly about it as yours seems to, Hope,” she said honestly.
“It figures.” Hope gulped down her hot chocolate.
“If it’s any consolation, it hurts more than you think it will. And you have to clean your ears with alcohol several times a day. If you don’t, you can get an infection and have to let your ears heal shut, then get them pierced again when they’re healthy.”
“Is that really true?” Hope gave her a squeamish look.
“A friend of mine had that problem.”
“But yours were fine, right?”
“I was supercareful because of my friend’s story, believe me.”
“Stephanie’s careful, and so am I. That’s not gonna happen to us.” Hope rinsed her mug and put it in the dishwasher.
“That’s right, because you’re not getting your ears pierced, kiddo.”
Head down, Hope hurried out of the room.
Ben took another cookie. “These are really good.”
“I’m glad you like them.”
He walked to the refrigerator. “I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of that.”
“It’s hard being twelve.”
“If only she wasn’t in such a hurry to grow up.” He poured a glass of milk.