by Peggy Webb
“You have butter.”
“Where?” His gaze never left hers.
“There.” She lifted her free hand and touched the spot on his cheek. Such a simple touch, and yet she felt as if she’d been plugged into the socket with the Christmas-tree lights.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Reluctantly she removed her hand. “It’s time to go. Goodbye, Tanner.”
She was two steps away when he called her name.
“Amanda . . .” Joy leapt in her as she turned back around. “I have something for you.”
As she stepped back to his car all sorts of thoughts ran through her mind. He’d lean out the window and kiss her; he’d pull her through the window and hold her; he’d get out and carry her into the concession stand, draped across his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and make love to her right there under the fluorescent lights, where he’d have a big audience.
He did none of those things. Instead he held out a candy bar.
“Your favorite. I bought two so we could share.”
“How did you know I was coming?”
“I didn’t. I guess I just secretly hoped you would.”
“That’s sweet, Tanner. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Well . . . goodbye again.”
“Goodbye.”
As she walked back to her car she pondered on what had happened, how polite they’d been. They’d acted like two strangers trying to make a good impression. It was all very puzzling to her—and best not to analyze.
She climbed into her car, adjusted her speaker, and leaned back to watch the last movie. She hoped to fall into oblivion. All she felt was nervous anticipation and a tingling in her spine.
But she was determined not to leave. Then Tanner would know. What he would know, she couldn’t say, nor did she want to consider it.
o0o
Tanner’s breathing didn’t get back to normal until Amanda was back in her car. Reaching for a Hershey bar, he tried to pretend she wasn’t up there in her car, tempting him beyond endurance, but he knew it was useless. Every minute that crawled by seemed to whisper her name.
He was determined to stay. Having her where he could see her for the next two hours was a gift too precious to throw away, even if he did have to suffer.
When the last show had ended, Tanner and Amanda started their cars and drove slowly down the dirt lanes between the speaker posts. They held a parallel course until they came to the exit. Then Amanda’s car turned in one direction, and Tanner’s in the other.
They went their separate ways.
o0o
Tuesday morning, Amanda was awakened by the doorbell. She pulled the covers over her head and mumbled, half asleep, “Go away.”
The persistent ringing jolted her out of bed. Picking up her terrycloth robe and raking her hand through her tangled hair, she started down the stairs. By the time she was at the front door, she was fully awake.
“Special delivery for Miss Amanda Lassiter.”
The delivery boy was hidden behind a bouquet of orchids.
“I’m Amanda Lassiter.”
“Would you sign here, ma’am?” He held out a clipboard and a pen.
As she wrote, he talked.
“Never seen the likes of it. This dude calls up Miss Chotley—that’s the owner of the shop, you know, Miss Chotley—calls her up in the middle of the night and orders these Hawaiian flowers. These ain’t your regular hothouse variety, see. These here are the exotic kind. Don’t grow ‘em nowhere ‘cept the Islands.” He laughed. “That’s how we in the business refer to Hawaii—the Islands. Anyhow, Miss Chotley says she don’t have ‘em in stock, and this dude says to have ‘em shipped in. He’ll pay. He insisted it had to be done last night too. Wanted you to have ‘em first thing this morning. He must be rich as Grease Us, or whatever that storybook feller’s name is.”
Amanda had to smile. Only one man would make such a production of sending a bouquet. Any other man would have been satisfied with roses, but not Tanner. As she took the flowers she saw his name on the card and thought how he would have enjoyed the delivery boy’s monologue. Tanner had always loved the limelight; being a legend tickled his fancy.
Her smile changed to a grin of pure devilment.
“His name is Tanner Donovan, and he is rich as Croesus.”
“I wondered if it wadn’t him. I knew he was back in town. Comes home every Christmas, they say. That man sure was a giant on the football field.”
“Generous, too. I’ve heard he plans to send flowers to every available woman over thirty in Greenville.”
“Golly, Miss Lassiter.” She watched the boy’s eyes widen. “Won’t that cost him a bundle?”
“Probably so, but Tanner Donovan has sworn to give every one of us a thrill. Can you imagine the Christmas joy he’ll spread with his wonderful flowers?”
“Not to mention that Miss Chotley will make a killing out of the deal. Golly!”
Amanda gave him a generous tip and sent him on his way. Her conscience barely twinged over what she had done and what she was about to do.
What woman wouldn’t love to get a long-stemmed red rose at Christmastime, she rationalized. Especially from Tanner Donovan. He did so love the limelight! The prank would cost her, but one-upmanship was never cheap. She owed him for the abduction in the surrey, not to mention the scene at the country club.
She made her list, then picked up the phone and called the florist.
o0o
Tanner whistled around his house all morning. Matthew finally told him he was disturbing every hound dog between Greenville and Columbus, and Anna, who knew about the dumplings, smiled a secret smile.
He wondered if Amanda had found his note in the kitchen, if she had received the orchids, and what she would do when she did.
He wasn’t long in finding out.
At ten o’clock the phone rang. It was Miss Amy Glenn Hughes, calling to thank Tanner for the long-stemmed red rose. He was sure there had been a mistake, but he decided to play along and see what he could find out.
“You got the rose?”
“Oh, yes. This morning.” Amy Hughes’s cooing reminded him of the pigeons in the barn’s loft. “And the note too.”
“I was always good with words.” He figured that for once his immodesty would serve him well. “Would you read it to me? I’d like to know if it sounds as good now as it did when I wrote it.”
“What a pistol you are!” He could hear Amy Hughes twittering and fluttering like a wren at a bluebird party as she scratched around for the note. “Here it is, Tanner: ‘If I can do anything to make your holidays brighter, let me know.’ Signed by you.” Amy Hughes sighed. “What a lovely surprise.”
Only Amanda would think of such a clever way to pay him back and at the same time do a good deed, he decided. No purpose would be served in telling Amy Hughes that he hadn’t sent the rose. “Can I do anything to make your holidays brighter?”
“You already have. Thank you so much for the flower.”
“You are very welcome. Have a wonderful Christmas”
“You too.”
Amy Hughes’s call was the first of fifteen he received that morning—all thanking him for the long-stemmed red rose. He was so busy answering the telephone that he had no time to think about romance. But he did think about Amanda. Between calls he grinned and chuckled and slapped his thigh and talked to himself until Theo’s oldest boy walked by and asked him what in the world ailed him.
“Love,” Tanner said.
“I hope it’s not catching. It’s making you weird, Uncle Tanner.”
“Your time will come.”
Kenneth said a forbidden word and loped up the stairs.
Tanner chuckled and mentally calculated how old he would be when he and Amanda had teenage sons. Not too old to enjoy them if they started right away, he decided. Time was wasting.
He got into his car and headed to the most exclusive jewelry store in Greenvi
lle.
o0o
The package was delivered to Amanda’s shop that same afternoon.
The emerald-and-diamond necklace caught the sun and reflected rainbows on her walls. Even as she reached for the card she knew who had sent it.
“If there’s anything I can do to make your holidays brighter, let me know,” the card said. “P.S. Let’s see you duplicate this with fifteen of Greenville’s lonesome ladies.”
Maxine leaned over her shoulder and gasped. “What a stunning piece of jewelry. Tanner sent it?”
“Yes.” Amanda held it to the light, turning it this way and that, imagining how it would look in the open neck of her ivory silk dress. She loved flamboyant jewelry, always had. Her jewelry box at home was stuffed with the antique pieces she’d bought for her shop over the years and couldn’t bear to part with. Nothing she had would compare with this necklace, though. The piece was exquisite—and very expensive. Reluctantly she put the necklace in the box and closed the lid. “Not that it matters. I can’t keep it.”
“For Pete’s sake, why not? The man’s crazy about you. And he certainly can afford it. That’s a mere bauble to him.”
“Nonetheless, I’m taking it back to him.”
“Why?”
“The flowers were just a game. Jewelry is serious business.”
“Flowers? What flowers?”
“Tanner sent orchids this morning.”
“Amanda, that man is a sweetheart. Grab him while you can.”
“That man is nothing but trouble. The necklace goes back as soon as I close the shop. That’s final.” She carried the box to her safe.
“You probably don’t believe in Santa Claus, either.”
Amanda laughed. “Don’t look so crestfallen, Maxine. I believe in Santa Claus; I just don’t believe in Tanner Donovan.”
She didn’t believe in Tanner, she told herself later that afternoon as she left her shop and drove straight to his house. He was as unpredictable as the wind. Today he was spending time with her, but only because it amused him. Who knew what would hold his interest the next day? All the Donovans had a wild streak. He might decide to buy a rugby team and traipse off to England or to Australia. Even if she did have feelings for the man, she wasn’t about to settle for leftover love and part-time attention. It hadn’t been enough before, and it wasn’t enough now.
As she parked her Honda in front of the Donovans’ sprawling Victorian house, she noticed that Tanner’s car was not in sight. She could almost taste her disappointment. All during her drive into the country she had pictured exactly how he would look when he came to the door, the endearing way his dark hair would be tousled across his forehead, the exact gleam of mischief and pleasure in his eyes, the way he would walk, with that bold, casual grace that only an athlete possessed.
Anna Donovan opened the door. Amanda rarely saw her, except from up in the choir loft on Sundays. She had forgotten how dear Anna always looked, standing in her doorway, smiling that warm welcome.
“Hello, Anna.”
Anna held out her arms. “Amanda! It’s so good to have you here again.”
Anna had always been gracious and charming, even after she’d jilted Tanner. Suddenly nostalgic, Amanda returned the hug.
“Let me look at you. My, my. As pretty as a picture. Won’t Tanner be glad to see you!”
Probably not, Amanda thought, but she didn’t tell Anna so.
“Thank you for the chicken and dumplings, Anna. They were delicious.”
“You’re so welcome, dear. Tanner’s always been so thoughtful, even when he was a little boy. He used to go out in the pasture and pick me a bouquet, just because he liked to see me smile, he’d say. I never had the heart to tell him he was picking bitter weeds. Listen to me going on about Tanner and letting you stand out in the cold.”
She took Amanda’s arm and led her into the house.
“Come in, my dear, and warm your feet by the fire. Theo’s boys built a big one in the library.” She chatted on as she showed Amanda into the cozy, book-lined room she called the library. “All the menfolk have gone off to get a Christmas tree. We’re expecting Paul and his family tomorrow. We always wait for the twins to come before we trim the tree. Little Matthew is the spitting image of Paul. Did you know Martie’s expecting again?”
“No. That’s lovely.” Amanda felt a strange twinge of envy and regret. She’d wanted children. Claude had too. After three years of trying, they’d finally sought professional help. Claude had been sterile. She’d mourned her unborn children as if they’d had names and faces. The lack of children, as much as anything, had contributed to the breakup of their marriage.
If she and Tanner had married, would they have had a family by now? Would one of them have been a miniature Tanner?
She felt empty, and for the first time in her life she felt old. Thirty-three and no children. No one to help trim a tree, no one to play Santa for, no little hands to hold, no sweet heads to tousle.
She firmly pushed the thoughts away and turned her attention back to her hostess. Anna was asking about her parents.
“They’re fine. They’re spending Christmas in England.”
“They always did love to travel.” Anna’s face suddenly lit up. “I do believe I hear the men.”
Amanda did, too. Something inside her leapt at the sound of Tanner’s voice. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to look serene.
The Donovan men came through the door— Matthew, Charles, Glover, Theo, and Tanner. Only Paul and Jacob were missing. They were all tall, rugged, handsome men, even Matthew with his shock of gray hair. They were laughing and joking as Matthew directed Theo and Tanner, carrying an enormous tree, through the library door.
The tree blocked Amanda from view, so she got to watch them unobserved. She treasured the family scene, cherished it, stored it in her memory to recall in the lonesome times after Christmas when Tanner would be back in Dallas and she would be alone.
“It’s crooked,” Theo said.
“It has dignity,” Tanner said.
“You say that because you picked it out,” Charles said.
Anna stood and clapped her hands. “My, my, It’s a lovely tree, boys, but do say hello to our guest.”
The Donovan men turned to Amanda. They smiled and greeted her, all at once. Except Tanner, and she had eyes only for him. He leaned casually against the mantel, looking at her as if he planned to cover her with whipped cream and have her for dessert.
She didn’t know what she said to the Donovan men. Years of training in small talk had carried her through, for her gaze was locked with Tanner’s. She saw the tiny flames ignite in their depths, noted the languid drooping of his lids. The desire to love and to be loved by this man had never been stronger. And she thanked her lucky stars that the room was full of people.
“I have a big pot of coffee in the kitchen,” Anna said. “I can serve it in here, or perhaps you’d like to come back there. A fresh pan of gingerbread ought to be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Amanda and I will join you in the kitchen later.” It was the first time Tanner had spoken. Amanda didn’t miss the significant glances the Donovan men gave each other as they filed out behind Anna. Matthew discreetly closed the door.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I walked into this room and saw you sitting over there.” In three steps he was beside her. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “Lord, you feel good.”
“Tanner.” She knew she’d made only a token protest. She could no more resist his arms than she could fly. He pressed her head against his shoulder. It fit perfectly—as it always had.
“It’s been almost twenty-four hours since I’ve seen you, Mandy. I don’t intend to let that happen again.” He tipped her head back with one finger. “You’re so damned beautiful, I ache every time I look at you.”
Then his lips were on hers. He tasted of wind and pine trees and soap. It was the tenderest of kisses, a warm, sweet sensation that enfolded her heart.
There was no urgency, no demand in the kiss, only a precious touching. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought it was the kiss of a man in love. Fortunately she did know better. It made what she had to do much easier.
The sweetness continued for so long, her resolve faltered. She was caught up in the embrace. The crackling hearth fire warmed her outside, and the delicious heat of Tanner’s kiss warmed her inside. As they kissed, his hands gently massaged her back, tenderly smoothed her hair. She died a little inside, knowing it couldn’t last forever.
Finally Tanner drew back, but he kept his hold on her, cupping her face and holding it so close to his that they seemed to breathe as one.
“I love you, Mandy.”
He said it simply, and she almost believed him. But her good common sense told her it was merely his latest ploy.
“Once I believed that. Not anymore, Tanner.”
Silently Tanner cursed the fates that had torn them apart and set them on separate paths. Inside, he raged against the empty years and her marriage to Claude. He even raged against the football career that had been the beginning of the end for them.
He wanted to smash his fist against the wall. He wanted to run until he fell in his tracks. He wanted to shout his fury until the very rafters of the house fell down. Instead, he continued holding her beautiful face, his thumbs massaging her jaw as he gazed down at her.
“I’ll make you believe it.”
Letting her go, knowing she didn’t believe in his love, was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He released her, realizing that winning her again would take time. At that moment he wished for some of the superpowers the press had credited him with when he was quarterbacking for the Texas Titans. Since he had none, he’d have to rely on instinct to get him through the game, the most important game of all. He’d call the plays as he saw them. Serious, playful, passionate—he’d be whatever it took to win Amanda again.
Her laugh was shaky. The sound of it made him sad and happy at the same time; he felt sad because he was the cause, and happy because her unease gave him hope.
He watched as she sat down in the chair, smoothed her skirt over her knees, tossed her head in defiance.