by Linda Ford
Wade looked to Missy for direction. The way his eyes danced with anticipation made her wonder—maybe even wish—that he meant to enjoy her company as much as he would the children’s.
“If I may make a suggestion?” Linette said.
“By all means.” Missy was only too grateful for someone to bring her thoughts back to normalcy.
“You could take a wagon and go to a special place.” She described a sheltered spot a few miles from the house. “We’ve picnicked there in the summer and I’ve often thought it would be pleasant in the winter, too.”
Out of the corner of her eyes, Missy watched Wade as Linette described the place. He looked every bit as eager for the outing as she.
“Go about noon,” Linette advised. “That way you enjoy the warmest part of the day. Help yourself to whatever you need for food.”
“That settles it,” Wade said. “We’re going.”
Grady was included. The children offered to help.
“I’ll get the wagon ready, then be back to assist,” Wade told them. But before he reached the door, he turned. “On second thought, maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
The excitement in the room came to a sudden halt.
He gave Missy a considering look. “I know you think Vic has been caught, but you can’t be sure.”
Heavy disappointment—both hers and the children’s—weighed down her heart. Would she always be to blame for things going wrong?
No. She could not bear to disappoint them all. She rose, handed Chloe to Louise and confronted Wade. “We’re having a winter picnic with or without you.”
Linette gasped. “You won’t be safe.”
“I’ll take a gun.” Realizing the children were listening, wide-eyed, Missy sent them a comforting smile, though she felt anything but soothing. “There’s no need to worry. We’ll be perfectly safe. We could even take Dawg along to protect us. Would that make everyone happy?” She turned and glared at Wade, silently daring him to refuse to accompany them.
He stood, twisting his hat in his hands. She could almost see him twisting her words about in his mind at the same worried pace.
Finally he released a heavy sigh. “I wouldn’t think of letting you go alone.”
“Good.” She turned back to the children, ignoring the regret in his eyes. “Let’s get ready.”
With a deep protesting murmur, Wade left the house.
Torn between her victory and her regret at the loss of her joy, Missy organized the children. She sliced bread and meat and they buttered the bread, added a piece of meat, some salt and pepper, making sandwiches for all of them.
Linette filled a syrup bucket with cookies.
“What will we drink?” Joey asked.
“We could heat milk over a fire for hot cocoa.”
The children cheered at the idea so she gathered together the ingredients and a suitable pot. She hadn’t asked Wade, but they’d surely be able to have a fire.
By the time they were done, she had filled a sizable crate with picnic makings. Linette had given them several blankets, as well.
The children went to the front window and pressed their noses to the glass to watch for Wade.
“He’s coming now,” Joey called.
Missy’s heart skittered up her throat. Maybe this was a mistake. Not because she had any concern about Vic, but apart from the children, she’d be alone with Wade, and a bit of the morning feeling lingered—a faint wish for what she’d glimpsed.
He wasn’t planning to stay...unless she could persuade him to reconsider his plans. But even that wouldn’t change things. They each had separate paths laid out for themselves.
She’d best remember that.
Wade pulled up to the back door and strode in. When he spied the box he hoisted it to his shoulder. “Is this it?”
“Isn’t it enough?” she asked, somewhat briskly.
“Sure hope so. A man can get might hungry being outdoors.”
She couldn’t tell from his voice if he meant the words to be regretful or teasing, and he’d turned his back to take the food to the wagon so she couldn’t tell by his face. Might as well believe he was teasing. “I promise you won’t starve,” she called after him.
He put the box in the wagon and turned to grin at her. “Can you also promise me I’ll have fun?”
Her heart forgot to beat as their gazes locked, hers full of impossible longings, his full of impossible promises.
She jerked away to shepherd the children into warm coats and boots. “Don’t forget your mittens and hats.” Once dressed, the children rushed out, and Wade lifted them into the back of the wagon.
Taking her time, still wondering if this was wise, Missy made her way to the rig. Of necessity she accepted his help to climb in. But it was totally unnecessary for her heart to speed up and her mouth to grow dry.
This was only about seeing that the children got the best Christmas she could help them have. How hard could it be to remember that?
As they drove down the hill toward the barn, Dawg ran up to them in front of Brand.
“Can Dawg come with us?” Joey asked.
Before Brand could answer, the dog jumped up beside the children with a silly look on his face.
Brand shook his head. “No one would ever believe he was once unsociable.” He patted the animal. “Have fun.”
Missy wasn’t sure if he meant the dog or the humans occupying the wagon, but from the lonely note in Brand’s voice she thought it likely the first.
They continued on toward the harness shop, where Eddie stepped out to wave goodbye.
Grady, seeing the length of leather in his hands, called out, “What are you making, Papa?”
“I promised you a halter so you could work with a colt. Thought you might want to help make it, but I see you have other plans.”
Both Wade and Missy turned to study the boy. He glanced at them. “Is it okay if I stay with Papa?”
“Whoa.” Wade pulled the wagon to a halt. “Of course. Jump down.”
He waited for Grady to join Eddie, then drove onward, a grin on his face. “It’s nice to see how close Eddie and Grady are. You know, with Grady being adopted.”
She nodded. “I understand adoption has worked out well for the Gardiners. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea of adoption. It’s just...” She shrugged. “It’s not the only answer.” His grin faded, replaced by a grim look. “It seems we are always going to disagree on this matter. But I don’t want to ruin the day with arguments and disagreements.”
“Nor do I.”
“Then let’s not talk about this anymore.”
She nodded. She’d stop, but only for the afternoon.
Turning her attention to the scenery around them, she sighed. “It’s a beautiful country. The snow, the mountains, the trees.”
“It is. You should see it farther up the hills.” He pointed toward the mountains. “Even up higher where it’s too rugged to build a house. The views are something to behold.”
“Tell me about it.”
He told of riding into the mountains for days, of quickly flowing streams, waterfalls and ice that never melted. “The wildflowers are like nothing you’ve ever seen and there are so many beautiful wild creatures—bighorn sheep, grizzly bears eight feet tall when they rise up on their hind legs, elk with horns out to here.” He held his hand at a distance from his head to indicate the size.
Missy listened, mesmerized as he told story after story of the animals he’d seen and encountered, the tales coming to life before her eyes. Before she knew it the wagon halted.
“This must be the place,” Wade said, bringing her thoughts from mountain adventures back to the here and now.
He jumped to the ground. “Wait while I tamp the snow down for us.”
/> She watched, amused as he danced about on the white blanket. “Here we go loop-de-loo, here were go loop-de-lay,” she sang.
He gave a sheepish laugh. “I should make you get down here and help me.”
Her heart beat faster as she envisioned herself holding his hands and dancing in abandonment to the music in her mind. She gulped away the feeling and shook her head. “I’ll wait.”
The children didn’t want to stay in the wagon and joined their uncle in a crazy jig. Even Dawg chased around in circles. The children’s giggles grew wilder as they enjoyed the freedom of the moment.
Missy sat back and watched them. It wouldn’t matter a bit to her if the day ended right here, so great was her pleasure in seeing the three of them together. This was one of those times when anything she could have said about Wade keeping the children would have been redundant.
“There.” He stood still, his hands on his hips. “What do you think?” He turned to the children and they imitated his stance, bringing another smile to Missy’s lips.
“It looks good,” Joey said, all serious.
“Yup. Looks good,” Annie echoed.
“Then let’s picnic.” Wade crossed to Missy’s side in three strides and reached up to lift her from the wagon.
He swung her high, making her squeal. “Put me down.”
“I am.” But he took his time about it, his eyes locked with hers.
She didn’t know if she was flying or drowning. And then her feet hit the ground. Her thoughts, though, did not hit solid footing. She couldn’t think what she should do next.
Wade had no such problem. He trotted to the back of the wagon and tossed out firewood. “Kids, help me make a fire.”
The “help” was getting under foot, dropping pieces of wood and falling over them amid a lot of giggling.
Missy might have offered to assist, but watching the children tumble about and Wade trying to sort them out was far too much fun. She leaned against the wagon wheel, a huge smile on her face.
Wade handed Joey another piece of wood. “Put it on that side. If we make a nice open tent of sticks, the air will draw through it and it will burn nicely.”
Joey tried to position the wood, got off balance and fell, scattering the whole lot.
Wade sat back on his heels, pushed his hat off his forehead and rolled his eyes.
Missy chuckled softly, not wanting any of them to think she mocked them.
“I’ll fix it.” Joey gathered up the scattered wood and did his best to re-create the tidy pile Wade had made.
As the boy worked, Wade shifted his attention to Missy, and seeing her amusement, his eyes darkened. His gaze went deep, so deep she could almost feel it delving into the secret places of her heart. For a tender, expectant moment, she almost threw open the doors and let him see.
What was there to see? She had told him everything of importance.
Except, a tiny strident voice insisted, that you’d give anything to be part of this forever and ever.
No. She swiftly denied the idea. She knew better than to beg for disappointment and rejection. She’d learned that lesson several times over.
She broke free of his gaze and pushed away from the wagon to assist Joey. “It looks pretty good,” she said, after helping him make a few adjustments. “Is it ready to light?” Only then did she allow herself to look again at Wade.
He hadn’t moved. His eyes were watchful. Knowing.
What had he seen? Or thought he saw? Surely she’d closed herself to him in time.
He lit the fire, positioned a log for her to perch on and sat beside her. The kids sat on a smaller log and stared into the fire...for about three minutes. Then Joey said, “I’m hungry.”
“So let’s eat.” Wade brought over the box of food. “Do you want to save the cocoa for later?”
Annie and Joey decided they would.
Missy suspected they hoped it would prolong the outing, and she had no objection. There was something quietly soothing about sitting around the fire eating sandwiches and cookies.
Annie turned to Joey. “Did Mama and Papa take us on a winter picnic? I don’t remember.”
Joey grew thoughtful. “I don’t recall. Uncle Wade, did they?”
Wade’s hand, halfway to his mouth with a cookie, fell to his knee. “Not when I was there, though I remember they liked to bundle you two up and take you for a ride in the sleigh with bells jingling. You recall that?”
Both children grinned and nodded.
“Tell us other things you remember, Uncle Wade.” Annie said the words, but Joey nodded eager agreement.
Wade slowly finished his cookie. Then he leaned back on his hands, his elbow brushing Missy’s and disrupting all her noble intentions.
“Joey, you walked early. Your papa was so proud of that. ‘Not even a year old and look at him go,’ he would say. Your mama had a different opinion. ‘Now I won’t be able to keep him out of anything.’” Wade laughed. “And she was right. One day when I was there and she was preparing for Christmas, you managed to pull over a whole bowl of flour.” He tipped his head back and chuckled. “What a mess. You should have seen yourself. Sputtering out flour. Your skin and hair all white. About the only thing not white was your eyes.” Wade shook his head. “You sure did keep your mama going to get ahead of you.”
The children ate up his stories, the food completely forgotten.
Missy shifted so she could watch Wade, too. She wanted to say to him, “You should see yourself and what you have to offer these children.”
“What about me?” Annie asked.
“Well, you were a little more content to sit and watch Joey. More than once your mama said how glad she was for that. But as soon as you could walk you wanted to help. Why, I don’t suppose you were more than two when you’d push a chair up to the cupboard and insist on helping your mama with whatever she was doing. And she was such a good teacher.” He grew somber. “You know she taught me lots of things, too.”
“Like what?” Joey asked, hunger to know more about his parents drawing him to Wade’s knees.
Wade ruffled the boy’s hair. “She taught me that very same song Annie sang on Boxing Day at the manger. She taught me Bible verses. In fact, because of her help, I won a prize one year in Sunday school for memorizing the most verses. She even taught me how to braid a girl’s hair.”
Joey sat back, a look of shock on his face. “She did not.”
Wade nodded. “Yup. She did.”
“You didn’t do it, did ya?”
Wade leaned over to whisper close to Joey’s ear. “Not when my friends were looking.”
“Whew.”
Missy pressed back a laugh.
Wade unwound from his position next to her. “Come on, you two. Time to work off that meal. Who wants to play tag?”
“Go ahead. I’ll tidy up.” Besides, Missy would prefer to watch them. And she needed time to deal with the vast emptiness that tore at her insides when Wade moved from her side, leaving her feeling so very alone.
She slowly drew in a calming breath and reasoned with herself. She planned to be alone. Had developed her plan over the course of the past few months. Being alone meant she wasn’t a burden to anyone, nor could they disappoint her or leave her suddenly and without explanation. Being alone was the only way to protect her heart.
Wade paused in front of Missy, the children hanging from him, Dawg at his heels.
She looked at him, even knowing it would undo the progress she’d made toward persuading herself she wanted to be alone. Needed to be alone.
He gazed at her with such knowing eyes he must surely see her confusion. Her deepest longings. Longings that must be denied if she meant to guard her heart.
The moment stretched endlessly between them until he spoke.
&nbs
p; “You want to play tag, too?” His voice was so full of invitation.
“Yes, do, Missy, please do,” the children begged.
“Okay.” She knew in the bottom of her heart that this was going to be a mistake. Every moment spent enjoying Wade and the children made her more and more uncertain about following her plan. A fact that frightened her more than she cared to admit.
Chapter Eleven
Wade grinned clear through when Missy agreed to play tag with them. He had plans. As soon as he was “it”—and he’d make sure that was soon—he would catch her, thinking he could hold her in his arms and she would look deep into his eyes as she had done several times over the course of the day. Each time he felt he learned a bit more about her.
He caught her but she spun away, chasing after Joey. He could reason it was about the game, but he suspected it was more. From the glistening tears earlier in the day, to the moments their gazes had locked and he’d felt as if he was spinning on an out-of-control merry-go-round, he’d seen something in her eyes that intrigued him. At first he’d thought it was longing for the joy these children had. She understood too well how fleeting such times were.
As the afternoon passed, he grew to believe it wasn’t longing he saw but regret.
His heart settled in the depths of his chest, as heavy as unrisen bread dough. Was he part of her regrets? Did she feel the same draw to him as he did to her? Did she fear it would upset her plans?
He could have told her not to worry. His plans did not include following the desires of his heart. Yes, he freely admitted, he was attracted to her in an unusual, first-time-ever way. It felt as if a portion of his innermost being had a Missy-shaped vacancy. But Missy deserved more than he could give her. Just as the children did. So it was a good thing their plans did not include each other.
The children had begun to slow down. Even Dawg flopped down, too tired to run any more.
“Time to make cocoa,” Wade said.
The four of them hunkered down around the fire. He hung the kettle of water over the flames to heat while Missy added the cocoa and sugar. They poured the steaming liquid into cups and cooled it with milk.