The Christmas Wife

by Sherry Lewis

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Beau put in from somewhere behind her. “She wasn’t a nerd.”

  The ever-so-slight smile on Brianne’s lips vaporized. “I didn’t think so.”

  “Oh, but I was,” Molly insisted. “At least, I wasn’t one of the popular crowd like your mom and dad were. Your dad’s just trying to be polite, but he doesn’t really know. We weren’t friends back then, either.”

  Hopping on one foot for reasons only an eight-year-old boy can understand, Nicky came in to stand in front of her. “You don’t look like a nerd to me,” he said after studying her for an uncomfortably long time.

  Molly couldn’t stop her pleased grin. “Why, thank you, Nicky. I think that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tossed a triumphant grin at his sister as he began hopping around the table. “See, Brianne? She is nice. You were wrong.”

  Brianne’s face flamed. “I never said she wasn’t nice, dummy. I said she was going to be trouble—and she will be, too. Just you wait and see.” She spun away and dashed off the porch before Molly could absorb what she’d said.

  Beau was after her like a shot, slamming the cabin door behind him. Nicky stopped hopping and stared at Molly with huge blue eyes filled with questions Molly couldn’t even begin to answer. “I’d better go,” he whispered, and then he was out the door behind his father, leaving Molly staring after him.

  The rapid footsteps and Beau’s voice faded away. Molly let out her breath in a whoosh. “Well,” she said to the silent cabin. “I think that went well, don’t you?” But the silence that rang in answer convinced her that the less time she spent around Beau and his kids, the better it would be for everyone.

  IT WAS NEARLY six o’clock by the time Molly finished settling into the cabin. She’d unpacked her suitcases and spent some time familiarizing herself with the hot plate and refrigerator. She’d tried every chair in the cabin, tested the bed and given the books in the small bookcase near the bed a thorough inspection.

  When she finished that, she’d spent a leisurely hour or so on the porch making a list of things to pick up at the FoodWay. But as the afternoon sun slipped behind the western mountains, time and the two large glasses of water she’d downed while she worked combined to force her to make her first trip to the house.

  She wasn’t eager for another encounter with Brianne, but maybe Beau had calmed her down by now. Besides, it wasn’t as if she was going over to visit. She’d slip in quietly, find the bathroom and leave again before Beau and the kids noticed her.

  After grabbing her purse and the list, she turned out the cabin lights and began the trek across the deep lawn. The temperature had dropped sharply with the setting sun, and the air had the crisp feel of autumn. She shivered slightly and walked faster toward the old white farmhouse.

  Light gleamed in almost every window and she recognized the enticing scents of garlic and oregano on the breeze. Ignoring the rumble in her stomach, she stepped onto the porch and knocked. The door opened almost immediately, and Beau stood before her, framed by light, surrounded by the rich scents of dinner and wearing a shirt liberally spotted with something that looked suspiciously like spaghetti sauce.

  Molly held back a grin while her heart did its now familiar tap dance in her chest. While she waited for the sensation to pass, she did her best to find a few faults. But his face was as close to perfect as a face could get, and the splotches of spaghetti sauce added a vulnerable appeal she didn’t have the strength to fight.

  Beau beamed when he saw her—which didn’t help—and pushed open the screen door. “Come on in. I was wondering when you were going to wander over.”

  Molly stepped into a spacious kitchen that had obviously been recently renovated. Two of the walls, including the one behind the stove, were exposed brick. The other two were painted a shade of blue so soft they were almost white. Just like in the cabin, huge, multi-paned windows looked out on Beau Julander’s world. A perfect world in Molly’s view—if you didn’t count one angry daughter, heaps of laundry in the bricked alcove with the washer and dryer, and a stack of dishes by the sink.

  She took another look around and realized that—from the laundry to the dishes to the mail stacked on the chopping-block work island—clutter seemed to dominate every surface. Finally! A flaw! Maybe Beau and his world weren’t perfect, after all.

  When she realized Beau was watching her and waiting for something, she grinned self-consciously. “I thought I should find out where the bathroom is. You know. Just in case.”

  Beau laughed and tossed a faded kitchen towel over one shoulder. “The guest bath is just down the back hall, second door on your left. And there’s no need to knock when you come over. I’ll leave the door unlocked while you’re here, so just let yourself in when the need arises.”

  Molly caught another breath of warm garlic bread and her stomach growled again. “What if I need to leave and you’re out somewhere? Will it be safe to leave the door unlocked, or would you rather give me a key?”

  With a shrug, Beau turned back to the stove. “It’ll be fine. This is Serenity, not St. Louis. How’s the cabin?”

  “It’s perfect.” She started toward the hallway, stepping over a bright yellow toy bulldozer on her way. “I meant what I said earlier. I think it’s the loveliest place I’ve ever seen.”

  His pleased smile was almost boyish, and Molly turned away, hurrying down the hall to the guest bath as if she could actually outrun the warmth that curled through her.

  Like everything else she’d seen so far, the bathroom was beautifully decorated. White walls were accented with lavender and green accessories, from the shower curtain and towels to the toothbrush holder and the scale on the floor. Heather Preston—Heather Julander—had always been perfectly put together as a girl, and obviously marriage and motherhood hadn’t changed that.

  Time hadn’t changed the feelings of inadequacy Molly battled when she compared herself with Heather, either. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and turned away quickly. Thick brown hair. Mud-colored eyes. Freckles across her nose and cheeks—even at thirty-three. An unspecified number of extra pounds on her hips and thighs. Molly was about as far from Heather’s willowy blondness and subtle grace as a person could get. She probably looked as out of place next to Beau as Raggedy Ann would have looked if she’d started dating a Ken doll.

  She had no idea what had brought about the end of Beau and Heather’s marriage, but she felt uncomfortable in this big house where Heather and Beau had lived as husband and wife. She wasted no time taking care of business, washing her hands and heading back to the kitchen. She told herself to plow through the clutter and let herself out the door before Beau could sidetrack her with conversation, but the sight of Brianne and Nicky at the table made her step falter, and Beau spotted her before she could get away.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said as Molly tried to get her feet working in rhythm again. “I know there’s nothing to eat at the cabin, so why don’t you join us?”

  Brianne’s head jerked up and color flooded her cheeks. Nicky began to bounce in his chair. “Yeah! Sit right here beside me. We’re having s’ketti. It’s my favorite.”

  Molly shook her head and tried to look regretful. “Thanks, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I…I have things to do.” She lifted her purse as if it would prove how busy she was. “I was on my way to the store.”

  “Now?” Beau picked up a wooden spoon stained red and plunged it into a pot on the stove. “The market closes at seven. You don’t have time to go shopping tonight.”

  “I’d have time to pick up a few things.”

  “Barely. And why bother?” He stirred carefully and made a face at the pot. “It’s not homemade, but I have enough sauce here to feed half of Serenity. There’s more than enough for the four of us.”

  “Yes, but—” Molly looked from Brianne’s sour expression to Nicky’s e
ager one “—our deal was that I’d stay in the cabin,” she said, turning to Beau. “Not that I’d impose on your family.”

  “You’re not imposing. We’d love you to join us. Meals are always better when they’re shared…and we can be kind of fun to hang out with.” He looked beyond Molly to Brianne. “As a matter of fact, Brianne has something she wants to say—don’t you, Brie?”

  Brianne looked so unhappy Molly’s heart sank, but she tried not to show any reaction. The girl cleared her throat, shot an impossible-to-miss dagger glance at her father, then swung her gaze to Molly. “I’m sorry.”

  How was Molly supposed to respond to that? Only a fool would have believed that Brianne was sincere, but Molly wouldn’t have said so aloud for anything in the world. Apparently Beau thought that making his daughter say she was sorry would accomplish something. Molly didn’t agree. If anything, he’d just made her chances of getting a civil word out of the girl a hundred times harder.

  Hoping that something would ease the tension, she sent the girl her best smile. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”

  Brianne looked away pointedly and focused on the book in front of her. “Okay.”

  Beau smiled as if something positive had actually happened. “So you’ll stay for supper, right?”

  Molly could think of a dozen things she’d rather do, but to refuse now would be a slap in the face of Brianne’s “apology.” And that would be a bad way to repay Beau’s generosity.

  Like it or not, she was stuck.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BEAU WATCHED a dozen different emotions filter through Molly’s eyes before she finally gave in. “I’ll stay,” she said, “but only if you’ll let me help.”

  He smiled, hoping she wouldn’t guess how relieved he was that she’d accepted. He knew she wasn’t fooled by Brianne’s apology. Neither was he. But his daughter had been growing more difficult by the day, and he was at his wit’s end. He didn’t care if she was sincere. He only cared that she’d finally done one thing he’d asked her to—although asked wasn’t exactly the right word to use, either.

  “That’s a deal I can live with.” He ignored the poisonous looks still coming from Brianne and nodded toward the refrigerator. “Salad fixings are in there. Knock yourself out.”

  Molly looked around for someplace to leave her purse, finally settled on the top of the washer, then pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. “Any particular likes or dislikes I need to be aware of?”

  Beau’s gaze fell on the softly rounded breasts barely visible beneath the oversize sweater, and the sudden surge of heat he felt caught him by surprise. He looked away and tried to remember what she’d asked. Something about the salad. “Whatever you like,” he said, hoping that came close to answering her.

  He tried to focus on the spaghetti sauce, but his attention returned to Molly over and over as she pulled vegetables from the fridge and lined them up on the chopping block. She reached into a high cupboard for a bowl, and her sweater hiked up over one hip, accentuating the tuck of her waist and the curve of her bottom, and Beau nearly forgot what the spoon in his hand was for.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t recognize the sensation, but it had been a while. He hadn’t given women much thought since Heather walked out on him. He hadn’t had the time, the energy or the inclination.

  He chanced another glance at Molly, who’d moved back to stand at the chopping block while she tore lettuce into the bowl. Those dark eyes and hair combined to make her a strikingly beautiful woman. Her curves were enough to make a man lose his head. But with Brianne going through…whatever she was going through, Homecoming activities the next few nights in a row and an airplane stranded in Jackson, this was a bad time to even think about entanglements.

  Besides, Molly wasn’t permanent, and he wasn’t interested in temporary. Heather had been temporary enough. If he ever got involved with a woman again, it would be someone capable of making and keeping a commitment to him and his kids. Someone who knew who she was and what she wanted. He didn’t think Molly fit a single requirement on the list.

  He pulled a large pot from a hook on the wall and filled it with water, turning his back on Molly in the process. But he wasn’t blind, and by the time he had dinner on the table, Beau knew one thing for certain. Having Molly living in the cabin for the next ten days was going to be a much bigger distraction than he’d anticipated.

  AN HOUR LATER, Beau scooted Brianne and Nicky upstairs to do homework while he and Molly cleaned up the kitchen. As if they’d done this a thousand times, Beau carried plates from the table while Molly scraped garbage into the disposal and fit dishes into the dishwasher.

  After only a few minutes, he turned on the CD player and the sounds of big-band music filled the kitchen. Molly looked surprised by his choice, but only for a second. She turned back to the dishes and fit the last of the plates into the rack, then straightened and brushed a lock of dark hair from her eyes. “I think that’s everything that’ll fit tonight. Tell me where to find the dishwashing soap and I’ll start the cycle.”

  Beau glanced at the overloaded dishwasher with a grimace of embarrassment. “I keep it in the cupboard beneath the sink, but you’d never know I even had any, would you. Can I just go on record as saying how embarrassed I am by the mess?”

  “You can, but it’s not necessary.” She opened the cupboard and sent him an understanding smile. “You forget that I lived with a single dad. I know what life is like when one parent has to do everything to hold house and home together.” She filled the soap holders and snapped the second one shut, then slid the soap box beneath the sink and closed the door.

  Beau gathered the butter, salt and pepper from the table as if he put them away after every meal. “I guess it’s too much to hope that you hated your dad for a while, got over it magically and lived together peacefully after that.”

  Molly shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. Sorry.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I don’t actually remember, but Dad never said anything about me being difficult.” She reached for a dishcloth and set to work on the stains on the stovetop. “But our circumstances were different from yours. I could hardly blame my dad for Mom’s accident.” Glancing over at him, she flushed the most charming shade of pink he’d seen in a long time. “Not that I’m saying you’re to blame for Heather leaving.”

  He laughed softly. “I know what you mean. No offense taken.”

  For a few minutes, only the riffs of clarinet and piano filled the room, then Molly stopped working and looked over at him. Her eyes grew thoughtful and her expression a little distant. “I think the only real argument I ever had with Dad was when I told him that Ethan and I were getting divorced. Even then, I wasn’t angry. But he was.”

  Beau wasn’t sure what to make of that or how to respond. He only knew he couldn’t stand around while Molly cleaned up after him. He grabbed a broom from the closet and tackled a corner that seemed to scream for attention. “Your dad liked Ethan, then?”

  Molly let out an abrupt note of laughter. “No. He had no use for Ethan at all, but marriage? That’s what he believed in. For better or worse. He couldn’t understand anything making life so horrible that we couldn’t work through it.”

  “Yeah? Well, I agree with him—to a point. I thought Heather and I would be together forever. It sounds funny to say that now. Things weren’t good between us for a long time before she left, but I still never thought we’d divorce.”

  “Nobody goes into marriage expecting to get divorced, do they?” Molly said, avoiding his eyes.

  “Of course not. But I’m sure some people are smart enough to get a clue when they spend three or four years doing nothing but fighting with their spouse.”

  Molly’s expression sobered and she went back to scrubbing. “Is it possible to be sure you’ve done everything you can to save the marriage in less time?”

  “You’re saying that your divorce dragged on for a while, too?”

  She
looked up at him under bangs that had fallen into her eyes, and Beau had a sudden and unexpected feeling of rightness. As if she belonged there as much as he did. As if this kitchen without her in it would feel wrong.

  “Ethan and I fought almost constantly toward the end,” she said with a sad smile. “It didn’t matter what it was about. By that point, the sound of his breathing irritated me and he hated the way I chewed, but I still thought we were working on the marriage. Living up to our vows. Trying to stay together.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Beau admitted. “What happened?”

  Molly sighed. “He found someone else. Someone more like him. Someone who came from money and who understood all the nuances of being a rich man’s daughter-in-law, which he’d decided I would never learn.”

  “Ah. Nice. So your husband came from money?”

  “I think he was made out of it.” She laughed. “I, most definitely, am not.”

  The urge to put his arm around her came upon Beau without warning. He gripped the broom handle to keep his hands where they belonged. “There are worse things than being regular folk.”

  “Not according to the Shepherds.” Molly glanced at the dishcloth in her hand with wry amusement. “Finding out about Bambi was a shock at first, but it only hurt for a little while.”

  “That’s her name? Bambi?”

  Molly laughed and shook her head. “It’s Emily, but I think Bambi fits better.” She sobered again and glanced toward the stairs. “Of course, I didn’t have children who were hurting and who needed me to help them understand why their world had just been tossed upside down. Only a father who thought I should fight the divorce and stand by a man who didn’t want me.”

  “So you’re telling me this Ethan Shepherd guy is a total idiot?”

  The corners of Molly’s mouth curved with pleasure.

  Beau could tell that he’d caught her off guard. He’d also strayed into territory he’d be smart to avoid. He changed the subject before he could go any further. “I’m afraid I haven’t done a very good job of helping my kids understand what happened. It’s…complicated. I was too numb at first, and I let their grandmother step in and take over. It seemed great for a while. The house was always clean and the kids knew just what to expect. But then the other problems got too big to ignore. I’m afraid I let Doris influence the kids too long as it was.”