The Christmas Husband

Home > Other > The Christmas Husband > Page 19
The Christmas Husband Page 19

by Mary Anne Wilson


  Madison had been awakened by the sound of a door thudding against the wall, and the next thing she’d known, Wyatt’s voice was there in the next room, talking in excited tones.

  She’d scrambled to sit up and had known Steven was gone when she couldn’t feel him by her. She’d looked around in the shadows, saw the light spilling in from the next room, then he had spoken in a low, deep voice.

  Quickly, she got up, found her robe and slipped it on. As she tied it at her waist, she’d gone to the door and looked out at Steven with Wyatt. He had on his pants, but his hair was mussed and his back was bare. From a distance of ten feet, she could almost feel his skin under her hands, that feeling of sleek heat against her body.

  Her mouth was dry as her heart started to beat faster at the memory of what had happened, and she had to fight the urge to cross to him just to touch him and make sure he was real this time.

  Then Wyatt had been there, talking quickly about riding on a snowplow, and she’d tried to focus on the boy. He was so happy, so excited he was almost bouncing. A child so much like his father, and she knew that she could love him as easily as she’d fallen in love with Steven.

  Her breath caught in her chest, and she had to make herself breathe as she acknowledged her love again.

  “We could all come and go skiing,” Wyatt was saying to his father. “I know this is all pretend with you and Madison—I mean, the agency thing and all—but we could come and go skiing, couldn’t we? Harvey said we could, anytime we want to. We could have the whole house and it snows up here clear into April.”

  Pretend. Madison closed her eyes against the impact of that single word. She’d been so lost in what had happened that she’d pushed reality right out of reach until Wyatt jerked it back and shoved it in front of her. Steven was paid to be here, paid to do whatever it took to please the client. Extras. God, he’d done more than a good job with her. And sickness churned in her middle.

  She took a step back as if she could lessen the pain radiating in her by getting distance. “I...I need to get dressed,” she said without looking at Steven.

  Her feelings for the man were so real they were cutting at her. “I’m...I’m not hungry, so go ahead and eat. I’ll see you all downstairs later,” she said and turned to hurry across to the bathroom.

  As she got to the door and stepped into the darkened room, she heard Wyatt saying, “And I think working with you’s a good idea. We got here, and it’s snowing, and it’s great, Dad. Wow, this is neat. You do good work.”

  She closed the door. Good work. The words echoed in her mind as she leaned back against the door. And the tears that silently slipped down her cheeks didn’t help to ease the pain growing in her.

  “So, Doctor,” she muttered as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I hired a man to act like my husband, and we made love, then he got paid and left. I think I’m in love with him, Doctor.” She crossed to the sink and stared at the shadowy image of herself in the mirror. “So what do I do, Dr. Love?”

  Her hands clenched on the porcelain of the sink.

  “Walk away. Get out of there. Forget about it,” she whispered to herself. “Just forget about it.”

  She took a shaky breath as she turned and crossed to the shower to turn on the water. Steam began to fill the air, and without turning on the lights, she stepped into the stall and let the heat wash over her. But as tears kept falling, she knew that as much of a mistake as she’d made, there was no way she could ever forget it. And she was infinitely thankful that she’d never told him she loved him and that her husband was a lie.

  * * *

  The Seventh Day of Christmas

  A CLOCK STRUCK MIDNIGHT as Madison walked into the great room where everyone had gathered, and she made very sure she didn’t look at Steven. Wyatt was by the fireplace with Harvey, stoking the fire, and Darla was sitting on the couch. She knew Steven was by the windows, gazing out at the night, but she never looked directly at him.

  As soon as she entered the room, Darla stood and crossed to her. “Oh, Madison, it’s so good to get back here.” The woman frowned. “It’s just such a shame that things have been so mixed up.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said.

  “First the storm and no skiing, then Steven having to go back to the city, after all.”

  She couldn’t stop herself before she glanced at him. He’d turned and she found herself facing his intense gaze. He tossed off the last of a drink he was holding, then grimaced at her as he spoke to Darla. “I haven’t told her yet,” he said.

  “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry. I thought...”

  “I was waiting,” he said, then put his glass down on the bar and came across the room.

  He got so close that she felt she could literally inhale his heat and presence. Despite the way her heart was skipping, she met Steven’s hazel gaze and was stunned that the man who had made love to her was completely gone. Instead, she was faced with someone with just the right amount of concern on his face, a man who she suddenly realized was reaching out to touch her.

  She had enough time before contact to make herself stay very still. “I’m sorry,” he said as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “The phone lines are working again and I called to check in. A bad habit. Now it looks as if I’m going to have to go back. They’re going to trial, after all, and I’ve got a mountain of work to do before Monday.”

  She knew she had to be looking blank. His words barely made sense to her. All she knew was his touch was searing her, and she wanted him to stop. She shrugged away from his hand and hugged her arms around her chest. “You...have to leave?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do. Harvey said he’d drive you back on Monday with them. Wyatt?”

  The boy stood at the sound of his name and hurried over to them. “Uncle Harvey says that I should stay ‘cause the tree’s coming tomorrow. What do you think?”

  She met his gaze and saw that he had a way of squinting that was so much like Steven’s. “It’s up to your father, Wyatt.”

  His face fell. “Dad says that I need to go with him ‘cause I promised Jared that he could come over tomorrow night to stay while his folks go Christmas shopping. I don’t think—”

  “You need to keep your word,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, that’s what Dad says.”

  “And he’s right.”

  “The roads are clear now,” Steven said. “So I need to leave as soon as possible.”

  She nodded. “Of course you do.”

  “You stay in here, and I’ll get my things, then take off with Wyatt.” Without any warning, he moved closer and the next thing she knew, he hugged her to him as if he were really sorry to leave. “I’m out of here,” he whispered just for her ears. “Good luck.” Then he let her go and stood back. “I’m sorry,” he said, then took Wyatt and left.

  She jumped when Darla touched her shoulder exactly where Steven had earlier. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You look as if you want to cry.” She patted Madison. “Even Dr. Love doesn’t always have things work out, does she?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Madison whispered as she heard a door somewhere deep in the house close.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Eleventh Day of Christmas—6:00 p.m.

  “Dad, if we don’t get going, Bishop and me won’t have time to get the turkey fixed.”

  Steven didn’t turn as Wyatt spoke behind him, choosing instead to stare out at the city on Christmas Eve to watch the cars streaming toward the bridges.

  “Dad, did you hear what I said?”

  “I heard, Wyatt,” he muttered as he raked his fingers through his hair. “The turkey.” The big man not only baked pies, he was teaching Wyatt to cook a turkey in some way that took all night. “I heard. I heard.”

  “Then let’s go. He’s going to let me help make the stuffing and gibbles or giglets.”

  “Giblets,” Steven corrected.

  “Yeah, that’s it. It’s real important for the flavor of the stuffing.�


  It was odd but few things felt important to Steven anymore. Not if York Enterprises bought into a pharmaceutical company or whether it didn’t, or whether Bishop did something magical with a turkey or if they all had peanut butter sandwiches for Christmas dinner. He just didn’t care. He’d been going through the motions since he’d come back from Tahoe.

  He’d resorted to bribery with Wyatt to get the boy to leave with him. “I’ll take you skiing for New Year’s,” he’d promised. “Just you and me. We’ll go for a long weekend.” Wyatt hadn’t looked too certain at first, then Steven had looked right at his son and said, “It’s a promise, Wyatt, and I won’t back out on it.”

  And now they were going to Reno for New Year’s, to a cabin Bishop had rented for them, and he kept going through the motions. He loved Wyatt, and God knew since Madison had come into his life, he’d realized just how important love was. How precious his son was to him. The flip side of that was how important Madison had become to him in such a short time. Too damned important.

  It wasn’t easy, but he thought he was pulling off getting on with his life until Wyatt spoke again. “Dad, what’s wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, I’m just tired,” he said, and that was the truth. He was tired of pretending that life was normal and a woman named Madison Smythe didn’t exist.

  “You sure work hard, but you always did. And I’ve been helping, haven’t I?”

  He closed his eyes. “Of course you have. You’ve been a big help.”

  “Then what’s wrong? We’re still going skiing, aren’t we? You promised.”

  “We’re going. The cabin’s rented and the schedule’s cleared.”

  “Whew, I was sure you were going to say we can’t go ‘cause you couldn’t leave or something.”

  “Oh, I can leave.”

  “That agency thing’s all done, isn’t it?”

  He pushed one hand in the pocket of his slacks and felt a set of keys that Martin Biggs had given him earlier. The keys to Harrington’s. “Yes, it’s as good as done.”

  “Then why are you so worried all the time?”

  “It’s just things,” he said vaguely and opened his eyes to the night outside. His reflection overlaid the busy city view, and he knew he looked like hell. He felt terrible. With a deep breath, he turned to his son. Wyatt was sitting in the swivel chair behind Steven’s desk. He had his jacket on and he was clutching his denim backpack to him while he studied his father intently.

  Suddenly, Wyatt leaned forward and spoke with intense earnestness. “Hey, I know what you can do, Dad.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Call Madison.”

  Steven was stunned. Wyatt knew about Madison? “What are you talking about?”

  Wyatt dropped his backpack on the floor at his feet and stood. “It’s simple. You know Madison and she’s really smart and she’s Dr. Love. You can call her and tell her your problems. Dad, she’s really neat. She knows a lot of things and she can fix problems. You can call her show. She’s on at nine and she answers any questions you’ve got at all.”

  Steven didn’t know if he was relieved Wyatt was talking about Madison’s role as a psychologist or if he was angry that the boy even brought up her name. He shook his head and crossed to where he’d left his brown tweed jacket and slipped it on. “You sound like an ad for her show,” he muttered as he tugged at the cuffs. “Now let’s go.”

  Wyatt grabbed his backpack and put it on as he looked up at Steven. But he didn’t move to go when Steven started to the door to get his black overcoat. Steven turned back and saw Wyatt still by the desk. “I thought you wanted to get going?”

  “If I tell you something, you won’t get mad, will you?”

  Steven hesitated, then went back to where Wyatt stood looking up at him with wide eyes. “Just tell me what it is, then I’ll let you know if I’m mad or not.”

  “I called her.”

  “Who?”

  “Madison.”

  “You called Madison?”

  “Actually, I called the Dr. Love Show.”

  Steven hunkered down in front of Wyatt to get on eye level to see if he’d heard right. “What?”

  Wyatt shifted from foot to foot and fiddled with the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “I sort of called and told her that I had this friend and the friend had this problem. And she told me what to do.”

  Steven rocked back a bit, trying to sort through this. “Let me get this straight. You called Madison on the radio and talked to her about Jared?”

  Wyatt shook his head. “No, I said it was a friend, but it was for me.”

  Steven had the sinking feeling that he didn’t understand anything in his life anymore, not even his son. “You called with a problem?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t give her my real name. I said my name was John, like in John Doe. I talked to her and she told me what to do about...my problem.”

  “What problem?”

  “Like how you worked all the time and I never saw you and it wasn’t like I had a mother or anything, and I thought Bishop was real scary, but now I think he’s kind of neat. But I asked her how to see you more. That sort of thing.”

  Hearing the words cut through Steven. He had no idea that’s what Wyatt had been feeling. He’d thought Wyatt understood about the business. But apparently his son didn’t understand, not any more than the father understood the things in his life. His throat tightened up and he had to force out words. “You told her that you wanted to see more of me?”

  “Yeah. I missed you a lot, and I never got to see you and you said we couldn’t go skiing and you got me that toy. I mean, it’s neat and all, but I didn’t want that for Christmas.”

  Steven ran a hand over his face and exhaled. “Oh, boy, Wyatt, I’m so sorry. I guess I thought...I mean, I’m sorry. You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t know how.”

  The simplicity in his words hurt, and Steven reached out to his son, pulling him in a tight hug that the boy didn’t fight. “God, I love you, Wyatt,” he said, closing his eyes tightly against the sting of tears. “And we’ll spend a lot more time together. We’ll do things and I’ll be a better father.” He held his son back. “That’s a promise.”

  “Good,” Wyatt said. “I’m glad we’re going skiing. Things are okay, just like Madison said they’d be.”

  He knew what the expression about having his heart hurt meant. His ached. He’d been so blind about so many things. “When did she tell you what to do?”

  “Before I met her. I was so shocked that she was Dr. Love, and all that. I mean, she was on the radio, then I found out who she was, and she’s so pretty and nice. She was real fun at the Kincaids, and I sort of hated to leave.”

  That was an understatement, the bribery was witness to that. “Wyatt, she’s a doctor. She’s trained to help people, and it’s great that she could help you, but—”

  Wyatt put his hand on Steven’s shoulder in an almost paternal manner. “Dad, she could help you, too,” he said with total earnestness. “I know you liked her and she liked you, and she’d help you. I know she would.”

  The idea that Wyatt could tell a fraction of his feelings for Madison only made his discomfort increase. “Wyatt—”

  “You can call her at home and talk to her. You don’t have to call her show.”

  “Wyatt, she’s married.” The blunt statement brought bitterness to his tongue.

  “So? She’s still nice. She can help.”

  The focus of his problem wasn’t going to be his salvation, no matter how earnest Wyatt was about it. There was nothing that would make things right. “Thanks for the advice,” he said. “Now, Bishop’s waiting.”

  “Bishop Jones.”

  Steven frowned at Wyatt. “What?”

  “That’s his whole name. He finally told me.” Wyatt grinned. “And he’s going to let me sew up the turkey, too. Like surgery. I bet he’d let you help, too.”

  “Great,” Steven said as he took his son’
s hand and left his office.

  * * *

  Eight p.m.

  MADISON STARED AT RON as he paced his office after the Christmas party for the station had finished. It was dark outside, and Christmas lights that had been strung on a sign near the station flashed a mixed red-and-green glow into the room. Ron stopped by the window, his tie-dyed T-shirt a garish orange and purple.

  “And Kincaid was so thrilled with your visit that they want you and your family to come to their house in the city for a party they’re giving on New Year’s Eve.” He spread his hands, palms up, in front of him. “Can you believe that? You and York did such a good job that they want a repeat performance.”

  Madison realized that her fists were clenched so hard by her sides that her nails were digging into her palms. She forced her hands open and took a deep breath before she found the words to respond to Ron. “This is out of control.”

  “Why? Just contact the agency and tell them you need York for New Year’s Eve.”

  She couldn’t afford to ever see Steven again, and she wasn’t going to. The time she’d had to stay in Tahoe had been one of the longest weekends of her life. She’d felt numb, almost as if she’d been drained of the ability to feel while she’d been there.

  She’d listened to Darla and Harvey, found out that Darla had actually called the program and talked to her on the air. A woman whose husband had been too occupied with work to find time for her. “Make him look at you. Make him see you,” Dr. Love had told her. “Remember when you fell in love and act the way you did then.” Good advice for Darla. Bad advice for Dr. Love.

  She recalled too well when she fell in love, and she didn’t want to remember it at all.

  “I know Harrington’s will make York available for us, and even though their fee’s pretty steep, it’s worth every dollar.”

  She cringed inside at his statement and wondered if any of it had been worth it. But she knew the answer to that before she formed her own questions. It had been worth it in one way. She’d known Steven. But there had been a bigger payment than she’d ever dreamed there would be. “No, no more hiring someone to...do that,” she said, annoyed that her voice sounded vaguely unsteady.

 

‹ Prev