Maybe it was just as well.
The barbecued beef, garlic mashed potatoes, salads and breads, and other side dishes were all delicious. Even better than the article in the paper had described. But it was Joe’s charming companion, his wife—however temporary that might be—who made the meal seem like the best he’d ever eaten.
Their conversation centered on childhood Christmases, on memories of other trips to the mountains to ski or sled or visit the hot springs that were in abundance in this area. Alicia told Joe about the time she broke her thumb while sledding on a hillside above Lucky Peak Reservoir. He told her about the time he flew over the moguls at Bogus Basin and crashed—spectacularly crashed, he was quick to point out—right in front of the beginners’ class by the rope tow. She told him about the Christmas she got a puppy named Rags, a gift from her grandfather. He told her about the year he gave his sister a black eye during a childhood squabble and had to spend the entire Christmas break in his room.
Over dessert—spice cake with cream cheese frosting—she expressed the loneliness of recent holidays. Somewhat surprised by his own admission, he said the same was true for him. Only he’d been too busy to recognize it at the time.
“We won’t be lonely this year,” she said in a near whisper.
“No. Not this year.”
But what about next year?
Joe might have voiced his question aloud if Harold hadn’t returned and announced that the sleigh was waiting to take them to chop down their trees.
“Your coats and things are next to the door.” He pointed. “When you’re done, Gus will bring you back here for hot chocolate or coffee before you head down to the parking lot.” Harold waved a farewell, then retreated to the kitchen once again.
“Gus,” Alicia said as she looked at Joe. “I wondered what our driver’s name was.” She smiled, a twinkle in her eyes. “He even looks like a Gus, doesn’t he?”
Joe couldn’t say he’d given any thought to what a Gus” was supposed to look like, but he nodded anyway.
“I’d better use the restroom before we go.” She rose from her chair. “Don’t let the sleigh leave without me.”
“I won’t.”
She walked away, and Joe couldn’t help grinning as he watched her, a little waddle in each step. Adorable.
It took about twenty minutes to reach the tree farm.
Gus brought the sleigh to a halt, then twisted on the driver’s seat and said, “Spruce trees are over that way.” He pointed. “And the ponderosa pines are over that way.” He moved his arm in another direction. “Signs are clearly marked. Trees range from four to eight feet. If you need help, all you need do is ask.”
Joe waited until the other couples had disembarked, then he asked Alicia, “Do you want to stay in the sleigh?”
“Not on your life. I want the full experience.”
“Okay, but you hang on to me. I don’t want you falling.”
She was happy to oblige. Holding on to Joe was her favoritemost thing to do…except for kissing him.
“Which type of Christmas tree do you prefer?” he asked as he helped her to the ground.
“Spruce.”
“Okay.” He selected an ax from the rear of the sleigh. Then, holding it in his right hand, he offered her his left arm. “Let’s go.”
The trails were well packed, and walking was easier than Alicia had expected it to be. Their boots only made slight impressions in the snow. Still, Joe’s pace was slow in deference to her condition.
No wonder I love him.
His head was bare, the tops of his ears were red with the cold, and his thick black hair was windblown from the sleigh ride. She could see a faint blue-black shadow beneath the skin on his jaw. In another five hours his cheek would be prickly with a beard’s stubble.
Joe stopped walking. “How about that one?” He indicated a tree with his outstretched arm.
She looked, although she’d forgotten they were there for a tree until he reminded her.
“What do you think? Put it in the alcove next to the piano? It’ll pretty much fill up the window space there.”
“I love it. It’s perfect.”
No point in telling him she wanted whatever he wanted. If he’d picked a scraggly pine with needles falling off, she would have said it was perfect.
He grinned. “Okay. You stand right here, Ms. Harris, and watch a man do his work.” With an exaggerated John Wayne swagger, he walked away from her, the ax handle now resting on his shoulder.
She laughed aloud. “My hero.”
“You mock me?” He glanced back at her.
“Never!”
“Good.”
As she watched Joe walk around the tree, she thought of something her grandfather had said to her a long time ago. “When God formed you in your mother’s womb, Alicia, He already knew the man designed to be your life mate. Wait and watch, dear one. God’s plans are always better than the ones we make for ourselves.”
Was it possible that Joe was that life mate? She wanted him to be, with her whole heart. But she’d rushed into things before, never listening to God to see if what she was doing was what He wanted for her. She wanted to change. She wanted to stop and listen.
Your will and not mine, Father. Change me from the inside out.
“Okay,” Joe called to her. “Here goes.”
He took his first swing. The sound of metal striking wood rang in the forest. He swung again, and wood chips flew through the air. He paused, removed his gloves and shucked off his bulky down coat, then wielded the ax again.
The rhythm of Joe’s movements resonated in Alicia’s chest. Back swing. Forward swing. Crack! Back swing. Forward swing. Crack!
She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “You could do this professionally.”
He paused, looked her way, grinned. “Maybe I’ll give up practicing law and buy a tree farm like this one. What would you think of that? A lodge in the mountains where the snowdrifts pile six or ten feet deep in the winter months and elk come to forage in the front yard?”
Her heart fluttered. Was he including her in that fantasy? All she could do was smile and nod.
Joe was enjoying this more than he’d imagined he would. When the tree toppled, he stared at the fruit of his labor with satisfaction. But before he could see if Alicia was suitably impressed, something cold and wet hit the side of his head.
“What the—?”
Her laughter rang all around him.
He touched his head. Snow? A snowball! She’d thrown a snowball at him.
He turned. She watched him with wide eyes, trying to look innocent.
It didn’t work.
“Not a wise thing to do, my dear.” He bent down to grab a handful of the white stuff.
“You wouldn’t throw a snowball at a pregnant woman, would you?”
He revealed what he hoped was a wicked grin. “You’re about to find out.”
She turned and started away from him as fast as she could. He might have thought she was afraid, only he heard her laughter again. He took off in pursuit, part of him enjoying the chase, part of him worried about her slipping and falling.
She couldn’t hope to outdistance him, and he caught up with her in short order. His hand on her arm stayed her flight. An instant later, he had her wrapped in a tight embrace.
“Foolish woman. I may not pay you back now, but it’ll snow again next year. You won’t be pregnant then.” Too late, he realized what his words implied.
Silence encompassed them. Alicia’s eyes swirled with emotions Joe would just as soon not recognize. He could almost hear her heart beating, almost grasp the breathless anticipation of the moment.
“You confuse me,” he whispered, his mouth drawing closer to hers.
“I’m sorry, Joe. That’s not my intent.”
Even more softly, he said, “I know. That only makes it worse.”
He kissed her, long and slow and sweet. Their mingled breaths formed a misty cloud above their head
s.
Time stood still.
Joe was treading on dangerous ground. He shouldn’t be holding her, kissing her, enjoying her, caring about her. He was all wrong for her. He was all wrong for marriage. There was no future for them, and it would be unfair to let either of them think otherwise.
He drew back, no more than an inch. He planned to tell her again all the reasons why they shouldn’t do this. But when he opened his eyes, he found her watching him, and the look she gave him stole the words straight out of his head.
He couldn’t think. All he could do was kiss her again.
Alicia allowed hope to return. Her heart soared with it. Her mind sang with it. It pulsed through her veins like lifeblood itself.
When Joe pulled away a second time, his expression was both grim and puzzled. He searched her face with his gaze; she tried to hide what she felt for him by looking away.
“We’d better get back to the sleigh,” he said. “The others will be waiting for us.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get the tree.”
“Okay.”
“Can you carry the ax?”
“I’m not a weakling.”
“I just don’t want to take chances.”
She glanced at him again. “I know.” She felt dangerously close to tears.
He turned on his heel and strode across the snow to where he’d dropped the ax. He picked it up and brought it to her, passing it into her waiting hands without a word. Then he returned to the felled tree. He put on his coat and gloves, keeping his back toward Alicia the entire time. Finally he grasped the tree trunk with both hands and began dragging it in her direction.
“Watch your step,” he said as he drew near. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Why did love have to be so hard? she wondered as she turned toward the sleigh. Why couldn’t Joe love her as she loved him?
The memory of his kisses flowed over her, causing her knees to weaken. She stumbled.
“Alicia?”
She raised one hand but didn’t look back. “I’m fine.” She kept walking.
But she wasn’t fine, and she wondered if she would ever be fine again.
Chapter Sixteen
It was after five o’clock by the time Joe pulled his vehicle into the driveway.
After he’d turned the key and the engine fell silent, Alicia said, “Would you mind if we wait to decorate the tree until tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”
“No, I don’t mind. If that’s what you want.”
She opened the passenger door. “It is.” She stepped down to the sidewalk, shoveled clear of snow. Then she looked back at him. “Thanks for the wonderful day, Joe. I’ll remember it always.”
“Sure thing.”
He frowned as he watched her walk toward the back porch, a hand in the small of her back. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken her up there. Maybe she’d done too much.
But deep down, he knew that wasn’t what bothered her.
Regret washed over him. Had their outing today been motivated by his good intentions or by selfishness? He no longer knew. What he did know was that he’d managed to hurt her again. Was this in some way the result of the lies they’d told her grandfather?
“Lord, she acted out of love for him. Was it so wrong?”
Heavyhearted, he got out of the SUV. A short while later, he leaned the pine tree against the side of the house near the back door, then went inside.
Grandpa Roger sat at the table, a steaming bowl of stew in front of him, along with a small loaf of home-baked bread.
Joe acknowledged him with a nod, then glanced toward the doorway to the living room.
“She went to bed,” her grandfather said.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, going up there.”
“She told me she had a wonderful time.”
Joe looked toward the older man but didn’t reply.
“There’s more stew on the stove.” Grandpa Roger motioned toward it. “A friend of mine made it and the bread. You’re welcome to help yourself. It’s good.”
“I should check on Alicia first. I’ll be back.”
Moments later he looked into the bedroom and found her already in bed, the blankets pulled almost over her head. Her maternity wear—bibbed ski pants and oversize slipover sweater—had been dropped on a chair, and her boots and socks had been set beneath it.
He stepped back and closed the door, then returned to the kitchen. A place had been set for him at the table, and he joined Alicia’s grandfather there.
“So tell me about your day. Alicia didn’t go into details.”
It was easier to talk about the day’s activities than to think about his feelings for Alicia, so Joe was willing to oblige. He talked about the wildlife they’d seen, about the sleigh ride, about the lodge and its proprietor and his wife, about the tree farm, even about the snowball Alicia had thrown at him.
And when he’d run out of things to say, he asked, “What did you do all day, sir?”
“Took it easy.” Grandpa Roger scooted his chair back from the table, then reached into the pocket of his sweater vest. “I have something for you.” He withdrew a blue velvet box from his pocket and set it on the table. “Open it.”
Joe picked it up. He cast a questioning glance at the old man.
“Go on. Open it.”
He obeyed, lifting the lid to reveal an antique pocket watch. The gold hunting case bore the image of an elk, intricately etched into the surface. Time had smoothed the craftsman’s work but not destroyed it.
“It was my grandfather’s. Then it was my father’s. Then it was mine. Then it was my son’s.”
Joe removed it from the box and opened the case.
“Cost more than forty dollars. That was a lot of money in its day. Twenty ruby jewels in gold settings, Breguet hairspring double-sunk dial, fourteen-karat-gold-filled case. It came with a twenty-year guarantee. Still runs, too, when the stem is wound.”
“It’s great, sir.” Joe looked from the watch in his hand to Grandpa Roger.
“It’s for you to give to your son.”
A lump formed in Joe’s throat, and he had to look away.
“It’s tradition for it to go to the firstborn male in each generation. I was going to give it to Alicia to keep until she has a son the right age, but…well, now that you’re part of the family, I’d like you to hang on to it.”
“And if this baby isn’t a boy?”
Grandpa Roger chuckled. “There comes a time when even good traditions should be broken. Probably should have gone to Alicia when she turned eighteen. You can give it to your daughter, if that’s what you choose. Just keep it in the family. That’s all I ask. A reminder of those who’ve gone before.”
Joe was an impostor. He had no right to be holding this family heirloom.
“It’s not the most important legacy to pass on, of course.”
Joe lifted an eyebrow in question.
“Faith, my boy. Teach your children to choose the right path, and when they are older, they will remain upon it. Nothing you impart to them will be more important than their faith and trust in Jesus Christ.”
Joe nodded. It was a legacy his parents hadn’t been able to give him. They’d had no faith of their own to share. But if he were to become a father—
He broke off the thought. Better not to go there in his imagination.
Roger Harris leaned forward and touched the back of Joe’s hand. “Don’t tell Alicia I gave you the watch. She might think it means my health is failing. You’ve seen how she frets over me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought we’d settled this ‘sir’ business.”
“Tough habit to break.” Joe shrugged, offering a weak smile. “I called my dad ‘sir.’ He expected it.”
“Well, see if you can’t manage to break the habit before I head back to Arizona.” Grandpa Roger rose with a soft groan. “Wouldn’t think I’d be so tired after doing nothing all day, but I am. I’m turning in.” He reached
for his bowl and empty milk glass.
“Just leave the dishes. I’ll take care of them.”
“Thanks, my boy.”
Long after Grandpa Roger left the kitchen, Joe sat staring at the watch and wondering how he would feel if he really were the baby’s father.
Although Alicia was forced by her condition to get up frequently in the night, it wasn’t until she awakened early the next morning that she realized Joe hadn’t slept on the bedroom sofa.
She tried not to feel alarmed. After all, there was no rule that said he had to share her bedroom. But it worried her, anyway.
As soon as she finished in the bathroom, she went looking for him. She found him in the basement, asleep in his makeshift office, his head cradled on his arms atop his desk.
“Joe?” She touched his shoulder.
He awakened slowly, blinking his eyes, straightening with a groan, a look of confusion on his face.
“Did you stay down here all night?”
“I guess so.” He glanced around the cramped room, as if making certain he knew where he was. “I must’ve fallen asleep while I was working.”
Alicia didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
Joe stretched and yawned while scratching his head. “I got a letter from a law firm in Boise. I discovered it with the rest of the mail after your grandfather went to bed last night.” He glanced toward his laptop. When he touched the pad, the black screen vanished, replaced by a calendar program. “They want to meet with me next week. I was working on my portfolio and must’ve decided to rest my eyes. That’s the last thing I remember.”
“Are you pleased about it?”
“They’re one of the top firms in Idaho. I’d be lucky to get on with them.”
Alicia sat on the chair on the opposite side of the desk, pulling her robe closed over her stomach. “They’d be the lucky ones.”
“You’re prejudiced.”
I’m supposed to be. I’m your wife.
More awake now, he gave her a tender smile. “You always look cute in the mornings. You know that?”
“Don’t be silly,” she replied, flustered by the unexpected compliment. She pushed her tousled hair away from her face with one hand. “I’m a sight.”
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