Let It Snow

by Sherry Lewis

  Anguish crept across her face. She shook her head and whispered, “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’ll push me away.”

  The agony in her voice went straight to his heart. “Maybe,” he conceded, “but only because he’s so uncertain.” Taking a chance, he pulled her into his own arms and cradled her against his chest. “If I said that I love you, would you believe me?”

  She darted a frightened glance at him. “I don’t...”

  “Because I do love you, Marti. I do.” He brushed her lips with his own. “But if I never held you, if I never touched you, if you thought I was angry with you all the time, would you believe me, even if I told you a hundred times?”

  She didn’t answer, but the tears that spilled onto her cheeks told him that she understood.

  “I care about you,” he whispered again. “And I think Cameron’s one hell of a kid. I want both of you to be happy, but I know that neither of you will be until you work this out between you. So, go to him. Talk to him. Show him what you’ve been trying to say.”

  She lifted her gaze slowly, hesitantly.

  “I know you’re afraid.” He brushed her mouth with his lips once more. “But so is he. And he needs you as much as you need him. Just be completely honest with him. Don’t hold back. And remember, I’ll be nearby if you need me.” He tilted her chin and looked deep into her eyes. “All right?”

  She nodded, but he could tell how much effort the simple gesture cost her.

  “You’ll do it?”

  She nodded again.

  “Good.” He worked his hand over hers, lacing their fingers together. “Come on. Let’s go make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had.”

  She clung to his hand and walked beside him. Every step betrayed her uncertainty, but she didn’t resist. Rick stopped in his tracks and pulled her into his arms once more. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her deeply, wishing that somehow he could pour courage into her soul.

  WITH HER HEART lodged-firmly in her throat, Marti stepped into the cabin just ahead of Rick. Christmas music played softly in the background and the entire house smelled of pine and cinnamon. Cameron, Ashley and Kendra sat beneath the tree, but Marti couldn’t see Lynette or Tom anywhere. Thank goodness.

  Kendra handed Ashley a package from beneath the tree. Ashley smiled, held it to her ear and shook it gently. Cameron watched them, grinning, but the moment he saw Marti on the threshold, his grin faltered.

  Desperate to believe Rick, Marti searched her son’s face for some sign of what he was really feeling. The all-too-familiar expression crossed his face, but this time Marti thought maybe she did see apprehension there instead of anger. Clinging to that tiny ray of hope, she forced herself to walk into the room.

  Rick turned a teasing scowl on his nieces, as if there was nothing unusual about the moment. “Put down the presents, you two. Nobody opens anything until day after tomorrow.”

  Kendra grinned up at him. “We’re not opening them. We’re just checking to make sure the wrapping paper isn’t loose.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry,” Rick said. “I’m pretty sure the tape’s working. But if you keep getting into them, they’ll all disappear before Christmas morning.” His voice sounded gruff, but Marti could hear affection underlying the crustiness in his voice.

  The realization stopped her in her tracks, and the full impact of what he’d said to her outside hit her again. It wasn’t what he said to the girls, as much as the way he said it. Obviously, Ashley and Kendra could hear the love in his voice, just as Cameron must be able to hear the anxiety in hers whenever she spoke to him.

  Summoning all of her courage, she smiled at her son. “Can I talk to you for a minute while these two put everything back under the tree?”

  Cameron stiffened and studied her expression intently. He glanced quickly at Rick. Apparently reassured, he shrugged and pushed to his feet. “Yeah, I guess. Where?”

  “Why don’t you go upstairs to the room you’ve been using,” Rick suggested, dropping onto the couch and ruffling Kendra’s hair as if Cameron and Marti had private talks every day.

  “Okay.” Cameron sounded hesitant, but at least he didn’t refuse.

  With her heart thundering, Marti followed him up the narrow staircase, past an open door that led to a large, airy bedroom and into a smaller room just large enough to hold a single bed and a dresser. She shut the door behind them and turned to find Cameron sitting on the bed with his arms folded across his chest.

  “What?” he demanded.

  She hesitated for a second, then gave in to her instinct and crossed the room to sit beside him. He tensed and shifted position to put a little more space between them.

  “What?” he demanded again.

  “I want you to come home for Christmas.”

  His lips thinned and he pulled back slightly. “Why?”

  Half a dozen defensive responses rose to her lips, but she pushed them all away and forced herself to find the answer in her heart.

  “Because I love you,” she whispered.

  Something she hadn’t seen in a long time darted through his eyes. As if he sensed that he’d given something away, he averted his gaze and studied the pattern of the bedcover.

  Somehow she found the strength to say what came next. “I love you, Cameron. I miss you. I’d like to spend Christmas together.”

  He traced the pattern on the bed with one finger. “Yeah? Why? So you can be mad at me all day?”

  The question stung and her defensive instincts rose again to protect her. But, again, she forced them away. “I’m not mad at you, Cam. Not really. I’m hurt, and I guess that a lot of times I cover that up by acting mad.”

  He flicked a glance at her, the merest brush of his gaze across her face before he looked back at the bed again.

  Holding her breath, she put her hand on top of his. Her fingers trembled, and she prayed silently that he wouldn’t reject her. That he wouldn’t pull away from her touch.

  His hand tensed and stopped moving, but he left it under hers. Grateful tears flooded her eyes. Yesterday, she would have considered them a show of weakness and tried to hide them. Tonight, she let them come.

  Cameron lifted his gaze to meet hers slowly. “What about Dad?”

  “I know you want to see him on Christmas, and that’s fine. It’s right. You should spend time with him. But I have to be honest with you, Cameron. I can’t get back together with him.” He glanced away again, but she’d come this far, she wouldn’t back down now. “If I got back together with him just to make you happy, I’d be miserable. And if I’m miserable, I’d make you miserable, too. I know you want us to be a family again, but we’d be living a lie, and I don’t think that would make any of us happy in the long run.”

  “But you only got divorced because of Chelsea—”

  The agony in his eyes wrenched her heart. Lifting her other hand, she brushed his cheek with her fingertips. “No, Cameron. That’s not why we got divorced. You were so young, you probably don’t remember what things were like before that night. Maybe I was wrong to hide so much from you, I don’t know. But your dad and I were having trouble before I even found out Chelsea was on her way. When I realized I was pregnant; I thought we could make things work. But I was wrong. It didn’t work. And after we lost Chelsea, everything finally fell apart.”

  Cameron shook his head quickly. “But if Chelsea hadn’t died...” He shuddered and looked away again. “If I’d called for help sooner—”

  She tilted his chin and looked into his eyes again. “It was too late for Chelsea, before I started having the pains. The doctor said nothing we could have done would have saved her.”

  “Then why did Dad say—” He cut himself off, but Marti knew what he’d been about to ask.

  “Why did your dad say it was my fault?”

  He nodded miserably.

  “For the same reason I blamed him in my heart. Because we were hurt, and because we thought we nee
ded somebody to blame. People do that to each other sometimes when something terrible happens that they can’t explain. I was angry with your dad for leaving us alone that night, but we couldn’t have saved Chelsea even if he’d stayed home.”

  Cameron glanced at her, but he didn’t say anything more.

  “We’ve all been carrying the pain of that night around with us for a long time,” she said. “We’ve even let it come between us, but I don’t want it to anymore. We’re still here, and we need each other—at least, I need you.”

  She thought he might pull away from her then. Instead, his face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. Slowly, hesitantly, she worked her arms around his shoulders. “I want us to stop being angry with each other, Cameron. I love you, and it’s hurting both of us too much.”

  To her surprise, he leaned against her almost as if he wanted her to hold him closer. Nearly choking on her own sobs, she tightened her arms around him.

  After what felt like an eternity, Cameron slid his arms around her waist and held on. She rocked him gently, the way she had when he was little, and stroked his hair with one gentle hand. “I love you, Cameron.”

  “I love you, too, Mom,” he whispered so softly she didn’t even know if she’d heard him right.

  But her heart told her she had, and for the first time in forever she listened.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  RICK PUSHED AWAY his plate and rested his hands gently on his stomach. Candlelight flickered on the table, illuminating Lynette and Tom across from him. Kendra and Ashley had moved into the living room to sit beneath the tree and shake presents.

  Rick groaned pleasurably. He’d eaten too much, but Lynette had fixed a Christmas Eve feast to rival anything he’d ever seen before, and he hadn’t been able to pass up anything.

  Tom put an arm around her shoulders and leaned back in his chair. “Good food.”

  Smiling, Lynette settled into the crook of his arm. “Thank you.”

  “It was wonderful,” Rick said.

  She sat up. “I’m glad you liked it.” Her voice sounded frosty.

  Things had been strained between them since the sleigh ride the night before, and Rick knew that when she found out what he’d been thinking all afternoon, they’d get even worse. He hadn’t said anything yet. He hadn’t wanted to ruin Christmas for her. But if he intended to follow through with his plan, he’d have to say something soon.

  Tom arranged his silverware on his plate and handed it to her. “What’s for dessert?”

  Lynette stood, gathered a few dishes from the table and spoke over her shoulder as she carried them to the sink. “Pie. Your choice—pumpkin, mince or cherry.”

  Rick waved her back to her seat. “You cooked everything. Sit down and let Tom and me do the dishes.”

  Tom rocked back in his seat and put on a look of mock horror. “What do you mean, Tom and me? If you want to volunteer, speak for yourself.”

  “Come on, old man, it’ll do you good.”

  Tom groaned and patted his stomach, as if it contained a precious cargo. “Sorry. I can’t move.”

  “Yeah,” Rick said with a laugh. “After all that hard work you did eating, I can just imagine.”

  “It was hard work.”

  “Exhausting,” Rick agreed. “Now let’s work a little of it off so we have room for the pie.”

  Shaking his head, Tom pushed to his feet. “First he makes me chop wood just to stay warm, then he volunteers me for kitchen duty.” He took Lynette by the shoulders and guided her toward the door. “Go on, then. Go peek at your presents while we clean up.”

  She smiled up at him. “You don’t mind?”

  “Of course I mind,” he said, “but I’ll do it anyway. I can’t let Rick show me up, can I?”

  Her smile faded again, but she didn’t say a word. She disappeared through the door and left them alone.

  Tom leaned against the counter and fixed Rick with a steady gaze. “All right. Spit it out. What’s bugging you?”

  “Nothing. I just thought it would be nice if we did the dishes, since Lynette cooked everything.”

  “Yeah? Well, you’re right about that, but I can see right through you, my friend. Something’s on your mind.”

  Rick tore off a length of foil and covered a dish of leftover sweet potatoes. Maybe he should talk to Tom. If anyone could help him get through to Lynette, Tom could. He put the dish in the refrigerator and turned to face him. “I’m going to ask Marti to marry me.”

  “Marry you?” Tom barked a laugh and shook his head in disbelief. “No kidding?”

  “No kidding.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “You love her?”

  “With all my heart,” Rick said, lifting a bowl of mashed potatoes.

  Tom tore off another sheet of foil and handed it to him. “Isn’t this kind of sudden?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Well, then, how can you be sure she’s the right one for you? After all, she’s the first woman you’ve even looked at since Jocelyn died.”

  Rick leaned one hip against the counter. “I know I haven’t dated a lot—”

  “A lot?” Tom carried the platter of turkey to the counter and searched the cupboard for a container. “You haven’t dated at all. Maybe you’re just horny.”

  Rick laughed aloud. “I am that, but that’s not the reason I want to marry her.” His smile faded slowly. “She’s genuine, Tom. She’s real, and I feel better when I’m with her than I’ve felt for a very long time.” He paused, and added, “I love her. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

  Tom stopped searching and faced him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am. In fact, I’ve already called Bix Mason and taken the property off the market. And I called the court and turned in my resignation this morning. I’m staying here, and I’m going to make a go of the cabins. I want her here with me.”

  “What about her dad? Won’t he put up a fuss?”

  “Maybe,” Rick admitted. “But I’m hoping he’d rather have me here than a factory.”

  Tom let out a heavy sigh and hung his head. “You know how Lynette’s going to react to this.”

  “I know. That’s why I haven’t said anything yet. I don’t want to ruin Christmas for everyone.”

  Tom shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve put off your life long enough, and you’ve done more than most men would have to keep their in-laws happy—more than I would have, anyway.” He cocked an eyebrow at Rick. “Does Marti know how you feel about her?”

  “I’ve told her.”

  “And? Does she love you?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I think she does.”

  Tom clapped one hand on Rick’s shoulder. “Well, then, maybe you ought to go find out.”

  “I will.”

  “I mean now.”

  Rick stiffened. “Now?”

  “Now.”

  “I don’t—”

  Tom sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “You say you love her. You say you can’t imagine your life without her in it. I’ve watched you with Cameron, and I know how much you like having him around. So, go ask her.”

  Still hesitant, Rick glanced at the door into the living room.

  Tom followed his gaze. “Go. I’ll talk to Lynette. It’ll take her some time to get used to the idea, but she’ll come around...eventually.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. She’s stubborn, willful and pigheaded, and part of the problem is she’s loyal to a fault. She still misses Jocelyn very much. But underneath everything, she does care about you. Besides, what if she doesn’t accept your decision? Are you going to let that stop you? Because if you are...”

  He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to. Rick knew what he meant. Tom was right. If he truly loved Marti, he wouldn’t let anything—even Lynette’s disapproval—stop him.

  “All right,” Rick said, turning toward the door. “I’
ll do it.”

  Tom smiled. “Good. But I’ve got to warn you about one last thing.”

  Suddenly wary, Rick halted and looked at his brother-in-law. “What?”

  “You, my friend, are going to owe me one hellacious favor.”

  “I’ll talk to Lynette myself—”

  But Tom waved the suggestion away with one hand. “Not for that. For volunteering me to help with the dishes and then leaving me to do them alone. One hellacious favor. Like a free weekend’s stay in the cabins during the fishing season next year.”

  Rick grinned. “Make it a week, and you’ve got a deal.”

  “All right.” Tom nudged him toward the door. “Go on, then. Get out of here. You’re so damn lovesick you’re getting on my nerves.”

  Rick didn’t need to be told again. He hurried through the living room and grabbed his coat from its hook near the door. Ashley and Kendra stopped shaking presents to watch him.

  Lynette looked up from her seat near the fireplace and frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “Don’t leave,” Ashley begged. “I thought we were going to unwrap one present each before bed.”

  Rick opened his mouth to answer, but Tom spoke before he could say a word. “He’ll be back. He’s got important business to take care of.”

  “On Christmas Eve?” Lynette’s disapproval showed clearly on her face.

  Tom crossed the room to sit beside her. “Yes, sweetheart. On Christmas Eve.” Every muscle in Lynette’s body stiffened and her face turned a deep shade of red. But when it looked as if she might say something else, he cut her off. “Let him go, Lynette. It’s time.” And to Rick, “Go on. Get out of here. You’ve lived in the past long enough. It’s time for all of us to move on.”

  Rick knew Tom was right about one thing—it was time for him to move on. But he had one more thing to say. “Lyn, this doesn’t change how I felt about Jocelyn,” he said softly. “It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten her. But I can’t hide from life anymore.”