“Why, Jared? If you wanted Christmas so much as a child that you studied all about it, what happened to make you stop wanting it?”
“I grew up.” He continued walking through the clearing toward the truck, pulling the tree behind him over the cold, hard dirt.
“Surely that wasn’t the only reason you gave up on such a wonderful holiday,” she said as they reached the pickup.
He waited until he’d put the ax away and hoisted the tree in the back before he turned to her. “I tried to celebrate Christmas by myself once,” he told her, “and it never measured up to my dream. I figured it was because I was old enough to know there was no Santa Claus, and from that time on, it all seemed pointless, as I’ve said before. Christmas is for kids. I missed my chance.”
“No, you didn’t,” she countered.
He regarded her with a look of resignation. “What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath that did nothing to stop the world from swirling around her, then plunged in. “Now that you’ve decided on your choice of a perfect tree, Jared, I want you to have the other part of my present. I doubt that you’re ever going to look at the season in the same way again.” She hoped.
“That would be a miracle.” Jared wondered why her evergreen eyes held a subtle hint of worry, which was at odds with the fact that she was about to give him a present, something that should have been making her happy. He decided that whatever her gift was, he’d accept it so her holiday outing wouldn’t be a total disaster. “Okay, what did you get me?”
For a split second, Jared swore she began to glow with his simple concession to accept her present. A feeling of warmth at her happiness rushed over him, but then he reminded himself of the facts, which were as cold as the chill air around them. Their differences were irreconcilable. The divorce was next week.
So simple. So painful.
“The present goes with the tree,” she said, giving him a lopsided grin as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in white paper and tied with a red ribbon. “But, of course, you can take it home with you if you like.”
Jared stared down at her hand and then into her eyes. He tried to read the message they were sending. He had a feeling that the gift was going to change something between them, but how, he had no idea.
“Look, Shea, before I open it, I’m sorry that I didn’t get you anything.”
“That’s all right,” she said softly. “It’s Christmas. The joy is in the giving.”
And he wanted to give her something. The only gift he could think of would tear him apart, but looking at her soft mouth, the warmth on her face and her caring eyes, he couldn’t resist. Before she could protest, he carefully pulled her close and covered her mouth with his own in a Christmas kiss.
The feel of her, so familiar, so sensual, left him reeling. God help him, he’d forgotten. He savored her mouth, her lips, and gave her the kiss that he always saved just for her. Finally, when she had melted against him, kissing him back, her arms wrapped around his neck, he knew he had to stop before they both lost their senses.
Regret in his eyes, the pain already digging into his heart, he pulled back from her. He expected Shea to come to her senses, too, and do the same, but she swayed instead. She was using him for support, Jared realized. That wasn’t at all like her.
“Hey,” he said, drawing her back against his chest. With a sigh that sounded grateful, she leaned against him, and for a few quiet seconds they stayed like that. “You were going to faint, weren’t you?” he asked, half-growling to hide his concern.
“You keep holding me this close, I still might,” she whispered.
Somewhere deep in his heart, he smiled. “Have that much of an impact on you after all this time, do I?”
If he only knew the half of it. Shea’s head had stopped whirling, so she gently pushed away from him, anxious to keep some distance between them and just a bit peeved that he was right—he was still rocking her off her feet whenever he touched her.
“I don’t care how big an impact you have on me,” she said, recovering a little. “You’re still just getting this for Christmas.” Taking his hand, she pushed the box into it. More swiftly than she thought he would, he lifted the lid and pulled out his gift.
It was a Christmas-tree ornament, a flat piece of silver cut in the shape of a toy train engine. Jared stared at the image stamped on it, and the cherubic child in the engine’s window. Across the top was engraved, “Baby’s ETA: June 15.”
Baby’s ETA. Estimated time of arrival. He felt the ground give way beneath his feet. Staying upright by twisting around to lean against the bed of the truck, he reread the engraving, then glanced down at the tiny gift card in the bottom of the box.
“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” Shea had written.
He looked back at the ornament and formed each word silently, taking his time. But the words hadn’t been a figment of his imagination and still read the same.
“I thought this could get you started with your very own set of Christmas memories that you can share with the baby when it gets a little older.”
Shea’s voice sounded far off, even though she was right next to him. A baby.
“I kind of wanted Baby’s First Christmas, but I thought that should be saved for next year, when our baby is actually here. I’ll make sure you get a new ornament every year, and then, when the baby’s all grown with a family of his or her own, it can have the set for himself. What do you think?”
“I think,” Jared said, gulping, “that maybe you’d better drive us back to town.” He couldn’t say anything else. Not yet.
As though it were crystal, he carefully tucked the ornament back into the box, replaced the lid, took a deep breath, turned and looked at her. Really looked at her.
She was pregnant with his child.
“How did this happen?” he asked, his voice sounding raspy in his ears. How could it have possibly happened?
“It’s the season for miracles,” she told him simply.
What little breath he had left went out of him.
He looked so...so... dumbstruck that Shea took pity on him. Reaching up to clutch the bed of the truck herself, needing the support, she gave him the clinical explanation. “The doctor’s exact words were, ‘Even the best birth control is not foolproof.”’
For a few seconds, his eyes held hers. But all he said was, “I take full responsibility for this.”
“Half,” she corrected, keeping her voice level, waiting. She was sure that wasn’t all he had to say, and whatever came next, she would have to keep her head and remember her goal. This was only the first hurdle, and she’d known it would not be an easy one.
“Since you were dizzy before, maybe I’d better drive instead.” Jared rounded the truck and slipped behind the wheel. Shea joined him inside and put the key in the ignition. Jared wordlessly started the engine.
“We need to talk about this, Jared,” she pointed out.
“If you’re worried about money, don’t be,” he said, his voice sounding emotionless as he put the truck in gear. “I’ll pay child support. Whatever you need, you and the baby will have. Clothes, a place of your own, anything—just name it.”
“A daddy,” she said softly. “I want the baby to have a storybook life, with a real daddy for Christmas, the kind I had.”
His jaw set. He should have expected Fate had something rotten in mind when he’d been summoned to Quiet Brook. It was Christmas after all. “I can’t be that daddy you’re dreaming of, Shea,” he finally said.
He needed her to understand, so he broke down and told her what he should have told her at the beginning.
“Dad was never the kind of father you’re talking about, Shea—a father like Mack is to you.” His concentration on the road, he steered expertly around a wood plank that had dropped off someone’s truck. “If I so much as asked about Santa Claus, he told me to face reality and forget about getting something for nothing. If I said I was looking forward to someth
ing, he told me not to count my chickens. It got so that it was easier just not to care at all. Once I stopped caring, I stopped feeling joy about anything for a long, long time. Then you came along.” He left it at that. He had a feeling she would understand.
“Anyway, a man like Mack is what you’d be expecting for this child. I could never come close to being the kind of person Mack is, a giving man who reaches out, who enjoys everything about life.” No matter how much he might have wanted to, for Shea’s sake. “That’s why I can’t get into the whole fatherhood bit. I’m too much like my father to wish me on a kid.” He paused, then carefully added, “Ever.”
Shea sat next to him without moving, her eyes straight ahead, her delicate features drawn. Jared would have given his right arm not to have said that to her, to have withdrawn from the situation without saying much of anything, the way he’d done with their marriage. But he had to make her realize that their child deserved better for a father than a man who was uncomfortable around kids and had no desire to change, who didn’t particularly care for things like Christmas and no longer, if he ever had, saw the joy in the simple things of life. That was as clear as the air around them. He knew what kind of man he was and could tell that he wouldn’t be a good father....
So why couldn’t Shea?
Chapter Five
Shea felt shaky all over. She should have known breaking through Jared’s shell wouldn’t be as easy as spending a couple of hours cutting down a Christmas tree, sharing some laughter and giving him a present meant to warm his heart. Her inclination was to cry her eyes out. She could go ahead and do just that—let the tears explode all over her face and all over what little relationship she still had with her unborn baby’s father—or she could pull herself together and realize that she and Jared had come a long way in only one afternoon. She now knew that his father had been a tightwad with his heart, and that grim legacy had been passed down to his son.
She also knew now why Jared had clammed up and gotten remote when she’d wanted him to share his hopes and dreams with her. How could he, when he was afraid to dream—or to need—for fear of being disappointed?
It was thanks to his father that Jared had built a protective wall around himself and buried his emotions so he wouldn’t care that he was missing out on the things that made life special—like family love and community traditions. Now, after learning what his life had been like as a child, she could even acknowledge that Jared’s walking away from discussions about their future had probably been his way of keeping himself remote, detached. If he never let himself care, he’d never get hurt. That was what his father had taught him by denying him what every child needed—unconditional love, caring and warmth.
So what to do now? Their marriage wasn’t salvageable, not when he’d have to change his whole outlook on life in order for her to be happy. But surely she could soften his heart enough for him to accept his own little baby, someone who wouldn’t ask anything of him except love. Jared at least had that in him, she knew. She had felt wanted from the very beginning with him. Whether he’d wanted, loved or just needed her, she didn’t know, but she believed he could give love in his own fashion. To their baby. Eventually.
She cast a surreptitious glance at him. He could have been a statue, so stiffly and silently was he sitting there, driving the truck down the road back to the main highway. The question was now, would her original plan be enough? Would giving him a Christmas to remember suffice to melt the cocoon of ice around his heart and help him feel the joys and pleasures that life offered? And could she pull off the change before Jared figured out who the Grinch was and left?
The first thing to do, she decided, clenching her jaw, was to save her tears till she was all alone in her room at night and afraid again. Her tears had always closed Jared up even more. She had to remember what her mother had been fond of saying—love and laughter would cure anything. She wished with all her heart her mother hadn’t died when she was eleven. Shea had a feeling her mother would have known how to help Jared now.
Straightening up in her seat as best she could with the seat belt fastened, she pasted a resolute smile on her face and waited for him to notice it. When he stopped to turn onto the highway, he did.
“You look too happy,” he said. “If I didn’t know the ax was out of your reach, I’d be worried.”
“I wouldn’t dream of killing you, Jared, not even figuratively.” Love and laughter, she told herself.
“Because killing would be too good for me, and you’ve decided to torture me first?”
“If I decide to torture you, I won’t need an ax,” she said.
The low, sweet tone of her voice as she spoke conjured up all sorts of “tortures” in Jared’s mind that she could still inflict upon him. Even now, that peaceful, “wait and see” smile on her lips and the scent of her perfume were wrapping themselves around every part of him that still held life and making him vulnerable. She was having his baby....
A baby that she knew full well he didn’t want. Where was that look of serenity on her face coming from?
Tense, he drove toward Quiet Brook, wishing he was driving back to Topeka instead—alone—so he could get away from this woman who wanted nothing—and everything—to do with him.
She was having his baby.
A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He was having a kid who wasn’t ever going to know his father. He knew he couldn’t have it otherwise, but it felt... terrible.
“You’re going to stay on to find the Grinch, aren’t you?” Shea asked. “Dad’s counting on you.”
“I wouldn’t break a promise to Mack.” Mack. He was going to be a grandfather. So was his own father—but Gil Burroughs didn’t much figure into his life anymore. “Does Mack know about the baby?”
Shea’s lips spread in a wide smile, and her eyes twinkled, warming him to the core just like always. “Are you kidding” she asked. “He would have been shouting it from the rooftop of our store the second he found out. You would have heard it in Topeka before you left, and you wouldn’t have been around him five seconds before he would have been patting you on the back and saying he knew you had it in you.”
“He does have a way with words,” Jared said, unable to resist.
She smiled. “I guess you won’t want to be there when I tell him?”
“It depends, Shea.” He rounded a curve, keeping his eyes on the road where it was safer—in more ways than one. “Are you going to tell him you’re having the baby—or we are? If you tell him we are, he might think we had plans to stay together, and I don’t think that would be fair to him.”
The only sign that his question bothered her was the way she tightly balled her slender fingers on her leg until they were pale.
“I’ll be happy to tell him in whatever way makes you feel the most comfortable, Jared.” She gave him another careful smile.
Jared knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Mack was going to look at him like he was permanent family and had hung the moon besides—never mind there were only a few days left until his and Shea’s divorce became final. At the very least, his friend was going to expect the best of him.
Just like Shea did.
Well, the best would have to be that he stayed around long enough to find the Grinch, then got the hell out of Quiet Brook away from Shea and his need for her. And away from their child. Jared knew beyond a doubt the kid would be better off without him in the picture.
“After we get the tree home, we’d better return to Denton’s. I need to make sure Dad isn’t wearing himself out subbing for me, and you should get back to your investigation.” Her eyes narrowed. “Speaking of which, aren’t you worried about your business?”
Jared wasn’t sure what to make of this. Shea seemed to have totally dropped all talk about their child and given up trying to persuade him to change his mind.
He would worry about that later. “Between the answering machine and the fax, I’m handling things,” he said in answer to her question. �
�Besides, I’m not expecting this Grinch hunt to take very long. Not more than a couple of days.” Pausing at the stop sign on the corner near her house, he glanced at her. “That is, barring any other time wasters you have up your sleeve for me.” Just so she didn’t misunderstand, he hastily amended, “Like getting the tree, I mean.”
“Getting a tree was not a time waster, Jared Burroughs,” she protested as he turned onto her street. “It was a way to show you some hometown Christmas spirit, and to let you know about your child as gracefully as possible.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t much like surprises,” he said, shutting off the engine. “I hope there aren’t any more in store for me here.”
“Nonnally I’d be full of helpful responses for your comments,” she said as sweetly as possible. “But right now I can only think of one.”
He turned to her and waited.
“Cope.” She grinned.
Her answer reminded him of their happier days, and his mouth twitched up at the edges in a trace of a smile. “Darlin’, you’re sounding more like my side of the family every day.”
“Oh, merciful Lord, then I have been hanging around you too long,” she said.
He groaned, and with another last grin at him, she climbed down from the truck and took her keys out of her pocket to open up the garage.
Not wanting her to bend over and lift the balky sliding door, Jared went to her side and took the ring of keys from her hand, drawing a sudden breath at the feel of her palm against his fingers. He didn’t know if he could stand even a couple more days of being around a woman he still wanted but would never have.
“So we stash the tree in the garage and then head out,” Shea said, her eyes meeting his with a long look. “Can you come back here early instead of staying late at the store? You can help Dad set it up, and we’ll decorate it and tell him about the baby then. Okay?”
“Yeah, if that’s what you think is best.” If it was up to him, he’d just go and tell Mack right now, but the baby was important to Shea, and, hell, who was he to spoil her moment?
A Baby In His Stocking (Harlequin Treasury 1990's) Page 6