“That’s lovely,” Chloe told him quietly.
“I wanna make an angel next. A Christmas angel.”
Evan blinked. And the pained expression returned to his face.
Instinctively, Chloe realized Evan couldn’t continue. “I’d like to help you with that, Jimmy. I think stars and angels are the very best designs for the season.”
Evan’s head rose, his guarded eyes meeting hers. He didn’t speak.
Nor did she.
But, Chloe sensed that somehow they had just communicated more in the past hour than since she and Jimmy had arrived in Rosewood.
Full moons had their advantages, Evan reasoned, as the hayride began. But so did partial ones, like the slice of moon that lit the dirt road. At the same time, there wasn’t so much light that every nuance of a person’s expression could be read. Normally, it wasn’t a concern. But he had been overly emotional since Jimmy had presented him with that special star cookie. Even though the child felt emotionally battered, Jimmy had reached out to him again. And Evan had nearly come undone.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t faced any emotional encounters since his young family perished. Life hadn’t stopped for everyone else when it had for him. But none of the others had been orphaned with only him as a possible guardian.
Equally unsettling was Chloe’s surprising sensitivity, her understanding. Just when Evan thought he might crumble, she had reached out, diverted the disaster. She should have taken advantage of his sudden weakness, striking when he was vulnerable if she wanted to press her case, to accomplish what Wainwright had sent her to do.
Why hadn’t she? The thought rolled around in his mind like a ceaseless pinball, striking curves, hitting flat out, but never disappearing. The few days before the hayride he had actually hidden out at his own office, unwilling to run into Chloe. Not certain what he would say if he did. But she had remained low-key as well, mostly staying in the file room. He overheard her speaking with the office manager, but left before Chloe could see him.
Hardly cold-blooded professional behavior. She could be off her game, but he didn’t think so. Chloe continued to nurture and encourage Jimmy, and to further her relationships with everyone else in the house.
The clip-clop of horses’ hooves blended with the quiet voices and occasional bursts of laughter from the wagon’s passengers. He glanced over at Chloe and Jimmy, who were wearing newly purchased jeans and casual cotton shirts. He had heard her consult with Viola about what the attire should be. In addition, Chloe had made sure Jimmy was warmly dressed, insisting on a jacket and hat. But she wore only a light sweater.
The nights got nippy this time of year. Not the fierce cold of the northern midwest, but still cool enough to chill the bones. Everyone else on the wagon had been raised in and around Rosewood and knew the peculiarities of their own weather and had dressed accordingly.
Jimmy pointed toward the sky. “I can see really big stars.”
Chloe smiled. “They’re all big and bright in Texas.” She leaned close. “Everything’s supposed to be bigger in Texas.”
“I’m bigger,” he announced.
She laughed. “Probably nearly a foot taller.”
Jimmy grinned, then looked over at a group of kids his own age on the other side of the wagon.
Chloe followed his gaze. “Do you want to sit over there?”
“Can I?”
“Just remember what I told you. Have fun, but don’t hang over the sides or back of the wagon.”
“Okay.” He took off like a shot.
Her smile turned tender. Jimmy had gotten to her. Why couldn’t she have been the one with the opportunity to raise this loveable child?
Evan watched Jimmy scramble away, then studied Chloe’s dreamy expression. “Think he’ll mind you?”
“He’s a good kid.” She stared up toward the sky.
Evan couldn’t ignore the sweep of Chloe’s long lashes, the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. His gaze lingered overly long at the last spot. “I know.”
“I was teasing Jimmy,” she said in a muted tone, “but the stars truly do seem brighter.”
“The sky looks different everywhere. Altitude, air quality, proximity to artificial light….”
“That’s the scientist in you. But as a Texan?”
“Definitely bigger and brighter.”
Chloe laughed quietly. “The sky reminds me of how it looks back home at the lakes. Very different from the city.”
“Which do you like better?”
“That’s like asking which is cuter—puppies or kittens.”
Amused, he relaxed a fraction. “Guess it is the scientist in me. Never compared newborn animals with astronomy.”
“Surely you’ve seen them in the clouds,” she protested mildly.
“Not during the night.”
“Ah, so technical,” Chloe teased. “I’ve seen every living thing in the clouds.”
“Even microbes?”
She groaned. “You do know how to take the magic out of the night skies.”
No. The romance. That’s what he was obliterating. And, the fact that he needed to, alarmed him. Yet he didn’t pull away. If anything, he slid the tiniest bit closer. “Magic is in the beholder.”
“I thought that was love.”
The word dangled between them, hovering like a harbinger of danger, perhaps even more.
Chloe shifted first, ostensibly to check on Jimmy who was laughing with the other kids, paying no attention to two tense adults.
It was ridiculous, Evan reasoned. Just because he was a man and she was a woman. He couldn’t quite complete the thought.
The wagon hit a bump, jostling Chloe, pressing her against his side. She didn’t straighten up immediately, instead holding her breath. Lurching the other direction, the wagon took her away almost as quickly. Evan immediately missed the contact.
She hugged her arms, shivering.
“You should have worn something warmer.”
“I didn’t pack a coat. I thought…”
That he would have already said yes to keeping Jimmy. That she wouldn’t be in Rosewood long enough to need winter wear.
“Why didn’t you buy one when you got the jeans?”
Chloe glanced down. “I’m fine.” There wasn’t extra money in her budget for a new winter coat. Not until she received the raise Mr. Wainwright had promised if she fulfilled her mission. She had received an email from the administrator at her mother’s retirement home. The rate was going up again, starting the following month. If Chloe was very, very careful she could squeeze it out of her budget. Fortunately, her utilities would be less since she wasn’t home. But what if Evan stuck to his guns? What if she failed?
And what if she never forgot the solid feeling of his muscled body beside hers?
Chloe knew he was strong. She had seen the muscles flex beneath his shirt sleeves, and she could never have missed the endless length of his legs. Her breath was so short, she wondered if it would return to normal.
Even if Evan wasn’t off limits because he was a client, she couldn’t trust her judgment any longer. She had actually believed her fiancé, Derek, had loved her, that they shared the same dreams and values. How could she have missed what must have been colossal clues?
And then there was Mom. Chloe could never leave her. Chip wouldn’t be back in the states for at least two years. Then he could be stationed on the other side of the country or world. No, she was the only constant in her mother’s life, the one Mom depended on.
The evidence was conclusive, inescapable and it made her heart ache.
Surreptitiously, she peeked over at Evan. He, too, looked as though he had more than stars and hayrides on his mind.
There was something so basic, so appealing about bumping along a country road in the dark, wrapped in the comforting warmth of good people. For the briefest moment, Chloe let herself imagine how it would be if these were her friends, her family. Evan and Jimmy…family? The tender part of her h
eart twinged.
And she couldn’t stop herself from lifting her face to meet Evan’s eyes. Despite the dim light of the night sky, she watched his eyes darken, shifting to another place, another mood. She swallowed. The wagon lurched and Chloe allowed herself to slide with the motion, her arm pressing against his. Although reluctant to lose contact, she twisted until she faced him.
His eyes darted to her lips.
Throat dry, mouth drier, she could only continue gazing at him.
Tilting his head ever so much, he leaned close. So close she felt his breath whisper over her. The chill of the night fell away.
Evan’s mouth met hers, searching, settling into her lips, soft and strong, intoxicating and powerful. Somewhere, drifting in her thoughts, was the notion that she should pull away, remind him that this could go nowhere. That she was a completely temporary fixture in his life. Perhaps remind herself…
Instead, she waited until he ended the kiss, until he leaned back so that she could see his face. The regret.
Shakily, she inhaled. Was she doomed to go from mistake to worse mistake?
Evan looked as though he wanted to say something. Even though she had been hoping since she met him that he would speak more, now she couldn’t bear a word. Not one single word.
Chapter Nine
Evan retreated to the den, warming his hands on a mug of coffee. Guilt filled, overflowed, brewing like the fresh coffee he’d just made. No worry that it would keep him up. There wouldn’t be any sleep for him this night. He couldn’t believe he had kissed Chloe again. Having almost convinced himself that it was an unintentional slip and vowing never to repeat it, all reason had fled when she lifted her face.
Sinking into a deep leather chair, Evan placed his coffee on the side table, staring at the portraits lining the wall. His great-grandparents, grandparents, then finally his father and mother. Each had taken the vow till death do us part. And each had kept it.
He and Robin had planned to sit for their portrait on their tenth anniversary. No longer newlyweds, but still early in what they assumed would be a decades-long marriage.
And he couldn’t even keep the vow a single decade. What was he thinking? Kissing another woman? The shame was overwhelming. He had ignored the Lord’s voice since that fateful day when Robin and Sean had been killed. Now all Evan could hear was His censure. Dropping his face into his hands, Evan hated the other truth prodding him. That he had enjoyed the kiss. That he might even be developing feelings for Chloe. He groaned aloud.
“That’s a mighty heavy load, son.” Gordon’s voice reached out from across the room.
Evan wasn’t terribly surprised. His father had always seemed to know when he was needed. Slowly, he lifted his face. In the quiet, he could hear the tamping of fresh tobacco in his father’s pipe. Not that Dad ever smoked it. He had given that up thirty years earlier. But he still enjoyed the ritual, the smell of his favorite blend.
“When you were a kid, you’d fall asleep in here, reading books about rocks, dinosaurs, and the Hardy Boys. Remember?”
Evan nodded.
Even though only one dim lamp lit the room, Gordon recognized the silent gesture. “Life’s not quite like one of those Hardy Boys’ mysteries. Not so easily solved, sure not wrapped up all tidy.”
Evan sighed. “I know, Dad.”
Gordon stood, relocating to the chair adjacent to Evan’s. “I never wanted you to suffer so. When you were two days old, I promised you I’d never let anything hurt you. At the time, I thought I had the power to keep that promise. Took a lot of maturing to realize I couldn’t. Only the Lord can hold you in His hands. And He does.”
Assaulted by guilt and indecision, Evan doubted it. But hurting his father wouldn’t help. “That’s what you raised me to believe.”
“Belief’s a funny thing. It’s easy when things are good.”
Evan’s defenses stirred. “You think I’m a rainy-day believer?”
“No man should outlive his child. And nothing hurts more than your child’s pain. You’re my child, Evan. Your pain is mine. I’ve felt it every day since you lost Robin and Sean. It’s not belief you need to seek. It’s acceptance, the reinforcement that you will see them again.”
Staring at the floor, Evan wondered, as he had done since the accident. “Why them?”
“I don’t know, son. But when the cancer took your mother, it was my faith that made it bearable, made me realize I could go on. Without it…” Gordon glanced up at the portrait of himself and Evan’s mother. “I loved her all my life and I couldn’t imagine life without her. Didn’t want to.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“We both lost her.” Gordon tamped the unlit pipe again.
“But I sure can’t lose you.”
“Don’t think I’m going anywhere.”
“Without your faith, you’ll die inside a little bit at a time. One day you’ll wake up and nothing’s left.”
Evan picked up his cooling coffee. “I’m having a tough enough time just getting through today.” The kiss he shared with Chloe pricked his conscience again.
“The hayride.” It wasn’t a question.
Evan blinked. “Did you intentionally push us together?”
“Good parents don’t push. They lead.”
And that wasn’t even an answer.
“Got any more hot coffee?” Gordon asked.
“It’ll keep you up.”
Gordon smiled, his concern evident. “Thought you might like some company.”
Acceptance. Was it a concept or a reality?
Rising, Evan carried his coffee into the kitchen, dumped out the cold dregs, filled his own and a second mug. He paused. Thelma hadn’t closed the kitchen curtains. Staring into the darkness, he continued to wonder. What if? What if he hadn’t booked the vacation? What if Robin and Sean had survived?
What if he hadn’t met Chloe?
Hadn’t kissed her?
Evan’s hand strayed to his lips, remembering the softness, the scent of her. What if, Lord? What if?
Chloe devoured the new stack of correspondence that had been plunked into the To Be Filed tray. Letters to and from TEX-INC, apparently a new customer. They painted a hopeful picture. The enormous order could put Mitchell Stone back in the black.
Bells jingled in the doorway. Viola popped through a few seconds later. “Time to decorate. Actually, past time.”
Her mind filled with what she’d just read, Chloe frowned.
“For Christmas,” Viola explained. “We usually put everything up right after Thanksgiving. Being shorthanded and all, we waited.” She shook the string of bells again. “We all fix up our own areas, then a few of us tackle the reception area. You game?”
Chloe had been thinking about the tiny tree she usually set up in her mother’s room. The home would have one in the communal television room, but it wasn’t the same. She put down the letter in her hand. “I’m game.”
Viola led her to the break room where open boxes were scattered around the tables. Plastic holly trailed from one, wooden strings of cranberries from another. One box in the corner remained closed.
“That’s the nativity set,” Viola explained. “We set it up in reception. Gordon and Adele brought it back from the Holy Land. It’s really special.”
“Ours always was, too.”
“Was?”
Chloe bit down on her lower lip. “We sold our family home a few years ago. My mother’s in a care facility. And my brother and his family are stationed overseas. He’s Army. So there’s no place to set up the nativity. I kept it, though. That and the ornaments we made with our father.” Ridiculously, she felt the sting of tears that she blinked back.
“It’s an emotional time of year,” Viola said quietly. “It’s supposed to be. Would you help me set up the nativity this year?”
Chloe’s lips trembled. “I’d love to.”
“Good. And pick anything you want from the boxes to make the file room area festive. We all do, so stuff gets switc
hed around each year. Everything except the nativity.”
“Thank you, Viola.”
The older woman paused, searched Chloe’s face, then nodded. “See you in a bit.”
Chloe chose a few simple pieces to arrange on her desk and the incoming records table. Her mind swirled with memories and anticipation. Memories of Christmases past, the kiss she had shared with Evan, the expression on his face….
And the anticipation of setting up a nativity for the first time in several years.
For Jimmy’s sake, she also considered the reverberations of Mitchell Stone’s new customer. If Evan felt his employees’ futures were secure, maybe he would rethink his decision. Perhaps he would decide that his life would be fuller with Jimmy in it.
Then, of course, she could go home. No more missing her mother, no more endless images of Evan’s regret, his distaste for her. No more Evan.
Chloe pushed back the hurt, reminding herself it was for the best. That, even if Evan had been attracted to her, they could have no future. She expected the rationalization to make things better, to make the hurt go away. Yet it lingered, and it grew.
The day dragged along. Chloe popped into Viola’s office to ask when they would be setting up the nativity. Learning it was just after closing time, she left to pick up Jimmy from school and get him settled before returning.
The days were growing shorter, the sun setting earlier and earlier. Driving down Main Street, Chloe felt nostalgic as she saw the lights, which were strung across the road, flicker on. A huge star dominated the middle of Main Street. Alongside, on the sidewalk, living Christmas trees were placed about every twenty-five feet. How long had it been since she had taken time to enjoy the signs of the season? Always in a rush from her job to the apartment or retirement home, she never noticed anything but red lights and stop signs.
Pulling in one of the diagonal spaces in front of Mitchell Stone, Chloe parked. She could see Viola and the receptionist, Jackie, through the large plate-glass window.
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