Cole's Christmas Wish

by Tracy Madison

  “Oh, stop. We don’t have to lie to Rachel.” Haley wrinkled her nose at Reid. “Weren’t you listening? She isn’t supposed to ask about the girlfriend, and even if she does, all we have to say is, ‘No comment. Cole asked us not to discuss this subject.’ Which he did. So, no lies necessary. Geez, pay attention.”

  “Avoiding the truth is still a lie, Haley,” Reid said, as set in his ways as ever. “You adore Rachel, consider her a friend, and you’re okay with deceiving her? You truly don’t see a problem with doing so?”

  “Rachel is my friend,” Haley said quietly but with conviction. “And if the end result is my friend and my brother being happy together, then yes, I’m okay with this. I’ve always thought they’d make a terrific couple.” Narrowing her eyes, Haley pointed at Reid. “You have, too, for that matter. You’ve said so! Stop being such a...a...stick in the mud.”

  “Yes,” Reid said drily, “being an honest person equates to being a stick in the mud.” Giving up on their sister, Reid shoved his fingers through his short, cropped hair and aimed his gaze at Cole. “You’re playing with fire. Even if this initially pans out how you hope, what will happen when Rachel discovers the truth? Have you considered that?”

  “Yup,” Cole said, striving for an easy, nonchalant tone. Not so simple when he held the same concerns his brother had just expressed. “I have, and I don’t know, and you’re right. But the plan is in motion. It seems to be working. The best I can do is keep moving forward. But I need your help.” He swung his gaze around the table, including his entire family. “I need everyone’s help. I wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t important to me.”

  “I get that it’s important,” Reid said stubbornly. “But there has to be a better solution.”

  “There isn’t. Not at this juncture,” Cole said, just as stubbornly. The two brothers stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither willing to give in. It was, Cole reflected, almost the same as staring into a mirror. All of the Foster siblings resembled each other, but Cole and Reid looked the most alike, sharing the same coal-black hair and deep brown eyes.

  Conversely, Haley and Dylan had their mother’s warm brown hair—complete with reddish highlights, which Dylan hated—and sage-green eyes. While their mother had a petite, curvaceous figure and tended to work hard to keep the pounds off, all four siblings had taken after their father in that respect, having tall, lean frames and a kick-butt metabolism.

  “There is always a better solution.” The muscle in Reid’s cheek twitched, clearly stating how annoyed he was by the entire prospect. “You just haven’t thought of it yet.”

  “Maybe you’re right, but I’m going with this,” Cole said. “I won’t let anything get out of hand, and I won’t hurt her. Trust me in that regard, at least.”

  “I do trust you. And I know you would never purposely hurt anyone, let alone Rachel.” Reid pushed out an exasperated breath. “I’m also concerned about you getting hurt. You’ve gone through enough, and I just don’t see how this can possibly end well.”

  “It might not,” Cole admitted. Pressure descended on his shoulders, reminding him once again of everything that was at stake. The truth was, though, “I’m willing to risk the possibility.”

  Suddenly, even though he hadn’t expected to get Reid’s approval, he wanted it. And though he knew better, though he knew that bringing up the one and only woman Reid had ever loved was hitting below the belt, he couldn’t seem to stop himself once the idea took hold.

  “What if a simple ‘avoidance of the truth’ had kept Daisy in Steamboat Springs?” Cole asked, hating himself for poking at this wound. “You two would be married now, would probably have children. Can you honestly sit there and tell me that you wouldn’t have gone the exact same route as I’m suggesting if it would have made a difference?”

  “Cole!” their mother said loudly. “What happened with Reid and Daisy is between them, and has nothing to do with you and Rachel, or why we’re here tonight.”

  “It’s a fair question.” The cords in Reid’s neck tightened, but his voice was firm and even. Controlled. “An ‘avoidance of the truth’ is exactly what sent Daisy running on our wedding day. So, to answer—yes, Cole, I can sit here and tell you that I would not follow the path you’re suggesting. Under any circumstance. I already know where it leads.”

  Whoa. As far as Cole knew, Daisy had simply gotten cold feet at the last moment. Obviously, there was more to the story. Curiosity and concern for his brother rose up, but he squashed it down. If Reid hadn’t shared the details before, then it was unlikely he would now. Later, though, Cole promised himself, he’d dig in and see what information he could find.

  “I’m sorry,” he said instead. “I shouldn’t have brought Daisy into this.”

  Reid gave a stiff nod, but didn’t say anything else. Lost in the past, Cole presumed. A past that Cole shouldn’t have tried to use to his advantage. Great. Some brother he was.

  Dylan, who up until now had remained quiet, said, “This is getting us nowhere. It’s a simple matter, really. Cole never asks for our help. Ever. He has, and that alone is enough to sway me.” He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I’m in.”

  “I feel the same.” Haley pushed her chair closer to Reid and rested her head on his shoulder. “But if Reid is that uncomfortable with this, then maybe we—”

  “No. Don’t worry about me. It’s...it’s fine,” Reid interjected in the same controlled, even manner as before. At everyone’s look of surprise, he grinned halfheartedly. “Dylan’s right. Cole never asks for anything from any of us. I’ll go along and hope—” he tugged on their sister’s hair “—for a positive result. Besides which, someone needs to get on grandbaby duty before Mom starts arranging our marriages.”

  “Why, I would never—” Margaret broke off as everyone burst into laughter. She sighed. “Grandbabies would be nice. Seeing my children happy and settled would be nicer. And from a woman’s perspective, I find Cole’s idea holds a touch of romance, which appeals to me. So, with that said, and with Reid, Haley and Dylan’s agreements, I’ll do my part.” She squeezed her husband’s arm. “What do you say, Paul?”

  The patriarch of the family gave his wife a sidelong glance. “I have to echo Reid’s earlier statement—beginning a relationship with subterfuge is risky. However—”

  “Now, Paul—”

  “However,” Cole’s father continued, “a man is apt to crush the sides of the box when he falls in love, if he thinks it will help. I certainly did. My goal will be to stay clear of Rachel until this mess is over with, but if I were to run into her—I’ll play along. Just don’t take this too far out of bounds, Cole. Emotions are involved. Not only yours, but Rachel’s.”

  “I won’t and I know.” That was one thing he didn’t need reminding of. Cole swallowed past the lump that had manifested in his throat. He had just received something that rarely occurred within the Foster ranks: a unanimous vote. “Thank you.”

  The words were meant for everyone, but he looked at Reid as he spoke them. Learning that his by-the-book brother had skirted outside the rules once and, if Cole were to follow the path of logic, had lost Daisy as a result had stunned him. It also helped him understand Reid a bit more than before, gave him some insight into what made him tick.

  “You’re welcome,” Reid said. “Just...be cautious.”

  Cole nodded for his brother’s benefit. He’d be a fool if he didn’t give credence to Reid’s earlier comments, to the potential danger of
ruining any chance of a future with Rachel due to this charade. Hell. If he really screwed up, he could lose her friendship, as well.

  A rush of nausea twisted in his stomach and a wave of light-headedness made his vision swim. Rachel not being a part of his life in any way at all was an inconceivable thought. On the outside, his brother’s advice was solid and in line with Cole’s earlier decision. Somehow, though, in the course of this conversation, something had changed. Now, he didn’t think being too cautious was going to take him where he wanted to go. Too much action could, as he had already surmised, send Rachel running.

  Yet another fine line to balance upon.

  “It seems,” he said to no one in particular, “that having a pretend girlfriend is going to prove more troublesome than having a real girlfriend ever has.”

  Dylan snorted. “Real or pretend, all girlfriends are trouble. I’ll take the pretend one any day of the week.”

  “Amen to that,” Reid said, leaning over to smack Dylan’s palm in a high five. “Or in my case, the no-girlfriend route.”

  “I miss being a girlfriend,” Haley said wistfully, tucking a chunk of reddish-brown hair behind one ear. “And I want a real man in my life, not a pretend one.” She scowled at each of her brothers. “It’s your fault I’m single. You’ve scared every interested man off, all three of you.”

  “I thought you had a date tomorrow night? With that nice young man that manages the bookstore?” their mother asked. “Has something changed?”

  “What man?” Reid said.

  “Do I know this guy?” Dylan asked.

  “See?” Haley groaned and proceeded to explain that who she dated wasn’t anyone’s business but her own.

  From there, the conversation turned completely away from Cole. He listened as his brothers teased Haley, joined in here and there, but mostly stayed in his own head, thinking about Rachel. They were meeting tomorrow, to shop for “Cupcake,” to go along with the romancing-the-pretend-girlfriend plan he’d outlined over lunch.

  One gift a day—preferably a gift of a romantic, personal nature—leading up to Christmas, which was when, he’d explained to Rachel, he’d get down on one knee and propose. The gifts, of course, would all relate to Rachel in some form or fashion. To their relationship.

  He appreciated the irony that Rachel would have a hand in choosing the gifts based on what Cole told her about his “girlfriend,” when, in fact, every description would be about Rachel. Would she catch on? Probably not. Most people didn’t, or couldn’t, see themselves as others did. But she might.

  Rachel was an intelligent woman, after all. She could very well recognize herself in Cole’s words, confront him, and then—after hearing him out—give him a sweet, pitying smile, a hug, and say, “I’m flattered, Cole, but I love Andrew. I thought you knew that.”

  Cole grimaced and tried to put the God-awful thought out of his head. Because, frankly, being kicked in the balls sounded a hell of a lot more appealing. Not to mention, infinitely less painful. And yeah, that pretty much said it all, didn’t it?

  * * *

  “Wait a minute. You’re coming here? For Christmas?” Rachel said into her cell from her parked car on early Friday afternoon. No, no, no. The last thing she needed was her mother’s special brand of craziness for the holidays. Especially now. “I thought you were staying with Dad, because of some important Christmas party he insisted you attend. What changed?”

  “Everything,” Candace Merriday said, her voice cool and unrelenting. “I am no longer interested in giving that man anything he wants or insists upon. Not after what he’s done.”

  “Hmm,” Rachel said, ignoring the opening. When she was a child, she loved watching repeats of the old television program Lost in Space. Now, quite clearly, she heard the Robot’s voice in her head, saying, “Danger! Danger, Rachel Merriday.”

  She didn’t need the warning. Asking any questions, showing even the minutest amount of curiosity or interest or concern, would put her smack in the middle of the battlefield. Or, as Cole used to say, she’d become the tennis ball her parents lobbied back and forth, each swing harder than the last, until the ball split apart.

  Not a pretty picture, but somehow, despite her best efforts to remove herself from the equation, she almost always became the tennis ball. Right now, though, she didn’t have the strength or the time to deal with her parents’ latest crisis. She was meeting Cole in less than ten minutes, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to muster the strength for that.

  Her mother heaved a long, drawn-out, dramatic sigh. “Are you there, Rachel Marie?”

  “Yes, Mom. Still here.”

  “I thought I lost you. The connection between our phones tends to be spotty.”

  Well, no. Their connection was fine. What she referred to were the frequent gaps in conversation whenever they were on the phone. Rachel stayed quiet, let her mother do most of the talking and only responded when necessary.

  It was easier that way.

  “Are you definitely coming here for Christmas?” she asked, because securing that information fell into the necessary-for-Rachel’s-well-being range. “And if so, have you booked your flight yet?”

  “I am, but no. Not yet. Today, probably. Or tomorrow. There’s...a lot to take care of. I’ll email you the details.” The sound of high heels clacking speedily against the floor clued Rachel in to the state of her mother’s emotions. She never paced unless she was really, really upset. Ladies don’t pace, they glide. “Have you talked to your father today? Or last night, maybe?”

  “Neither. Haven’t heard a peep from him.”

  “You’ve checked your email?”

  “Yep, about an hour ago. No emails, phone calls or texts from Dad,” Rachel said, biting back a sigh of her own. “Which is basically what ‘haven’t heard a peep from him’ means.”

  Silence. Candace Merriday did not appreciate sarcasm from anyone, but most especially not from her daughter.

  “Sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m in a hurry, though, and—”

  “Aren’t you interested in what your father did to upset me?” Candace asked. “Or are we to the point that you don’t care in the slightest what happens between your parents?”

  “I... Of course I care. It’s just that I’m...” Rachel trailed off while she thought of an appropriate lie. She did care, but no, she couldn’t claim she was interested any longer. That boat had sailed years ago. “I’m driving. The roads are a little slick. Sorry if—”

  “Why didn’t you say so? We’ll save this conversation for when I’m there, face-to-face.” The clicking stopped, signifying that the pacing had, as well. For now, anyway. “But do let me know if your father contacts you. You will, won’t you?”

  “Mom, I really think you and Dad should handle this dilemma without me. So if he contacts me, I’ll wish him Merry Christmas and leave it at that.”

  More silence. A heavy, weighted silence begging for a very specific response.

  Surrendering, Rachel said, “But yes, if he calls or emails or texts, I’ll let you know.”

  “That would be good. So,” Candace said as her heels started clacking again, “I’ll talk to you soon, my darling. Drive safe. Kisses!”

  The call, thankfully, ended. Rachel stared hard at her phone, almost expecting her father to choose that second to contact her. When a full minute ticked by without him doing so, she breathed a sigh of relief and powered down the phone. She’d have enough on her mind for the rest
of the afternoon without any additional interruptions from her forever-feuding folks.

  She loved them. She even enjoyed spending time with them in small doses, without the company of the other, but the continuous tug-of-war had taken its toll. Some people, Rachel reflected as she stepped from her car and headed toward the sporting goods store where she was meeting Cole, should never have gotten married in the first place.

  Her parents definitely fell into that category.

  They obviously weren’t happy, hadn’t been for as far back as Rachel could recall. So why didn’t they give up the charade and get divorced? Perhaps it was time to ask. She’d certainly have ample opportunity soon enough, seeing as her mother would be here within days. A week, max. Most likely, her father would follow—important Christmas party or not.

  Because despite the continuous upheaval in their relationship, Lawrence and Candace Merriday never stayed apart for very long. If one ran, the other followed. Every freaking time.

  God. It would be an all-out war. A bubble of desperate laughter choked out of Rachel’s constricted throat. Between the prospect of that and her ridiculous promise to Cole, she honestly wished she was spending the holidays anywhere other than Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

  New York. Hawaii. A third-world country. A freaking iceberg in the middle of nowhere. Heck, at this point, she’d be happy any place that her parents weren’t and she didn’t have to listen to Cole wax poetic about a woman he called Cupcake.

  Unexpected warmth trickled along her skin. Cole. She lifted her chin, and her eyes found him instantly. Again, he stood outside, waiting for her. Like always, he looked tall and strong, solid and...yeah, sexy. He also looked, Rachel admitted to herself, incredibly, unbelievably happy. Well, why wouldn’t he be happy? He was in love.