For the Love of Ivy: An uplifting feel good holiday romance

by Cindy Kirk

  “The reindeer are restless,” Seth voice dropped low in his best Santa imitation. “We’ve many stops still to make. I thank you for the cookies and milk. The reindeer thank you, too.”

  Without saying another word, Seth whirled and raced up the stairs. By the time he reached the guest room, the Santa suit was almost off. In record time the beard was discarded and the suit and accessories back in the closet.

  Dressed now in the jeans and shirt he’d worn underneath, Seth took a deep steadying breath. He could do this. He had to do this. There was no way he was going to let an impulsive action steal his daughter’s innocent belief in Santa.

  With that thought firmly in front of him, Seth sauntered down the stairs as if he hadn’t a care in the world. When he saw Ivy seated on the sofa next to Lauren, his heart slammed against his ribs. So much hinged on how he handled these next few minutes. Calling upon the acting experience gleaned from several high school plays, Seth forced what he hoped could pass for an excited expression. “Did you see Santa?”

  “I saw him.” Ivy bounced up and down on the sofa. “I saw him kissing Miss Lauren.”

  Seth had never blushed in his life but at that moment he came pretty dam close. Somehow he managed to meet Lauren’s gaze. “You were kissing Santa?”

  Even to his own ears, his shock sounded genuine.

  “Guilty as charged.” Lauren lifted a hand, the twinkle in her eyes taking him by surprise. “I gave him a friendly kiss to say thanks for stopping by.”

  “It was like the kisses Aunt Anna gives Uncle Mitch when they’re in the kitchen alone,” Ivy spoke in a loud voice. “Lauren had her arms around him and everything.”

  Seth closed his eyes. Dear God, could this get any worse? He opened his eyes a second later to the sound of Lauren’s laughter.

  “What can I say? I was swept away. The old bearded guy knows how to kiss.” Lauren shot him a wink.

  Though Seth told himself it shouldn’t matter what Lauren thought of his kissing ability, his chest puffed with pride. If he was being honest, he’d admit that for a second, he’d been swept away, too. He’d forgotten how good it felt to hold a woman. How good it felt to have soft, warm lips pressed against his. Most of all, how good it felt to simply be that close to another human being.

  The three years since Jan passed had been lonely ones. Oh, he kept busy raising Ivy and running the ranch. He played ball with his friends and went to church with his neighbors. He hadn’t realized until now how much he missed physical intimacy.

  “What happened to Santa, Daddy?” Ivy’s sweet voice broke through his thoughts. “Where did he go?”

  “Out the bedroom window,” Seth said. “The reindeer were pawing the roof. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them. I think they were eager to deliver more presents.”

  Ivy’s mouth formed a perfect O. “Did you see them? Did you see Rudolph ?"

  “Yes, Seth,” Lauren asked, her lips twitching. “Was Rudolph with them?”

  “Everything happened so fast.” Though it seemed weird to be having a conversation about a reindeer, Seth somehow managed to keep a straight face. “I’m afraid I didn’t look for him.”

  Ivy exhaled a heavy sigh. “I wish I could have seen Rudolph and the other reindeer.”

  “Me, too.” Lauren reached over and gave Ivy a sympathetic hug. “At least we got to see Santa.” Lauren’s generosity of spirit toward his daughter continued to amaze him.

  “When I heard bells jingling, I knew it was Santa,” Ivy said to Lauren, her expression oh-so-earnest. “That’s why I got out of bed.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Lauren responded.

  Seth stared in amazement.

  Lauren’s expression was as serious as his daughter’s. Despite the psychologist’s feelings about fantasy figures, she seemed determined to help him preserve Ivy’s innocence.

  “Since Santa was here already, can I open my presents now?” Ivy’s focus shifted to the stack of brightly wrapped gifts beneath the tree. “Pretty, pretty, pretty please?”

  When his daughter turned her attention back to Seth, her blue eyes shining with hope, he wanted to give her the world. Only the thought of his sister stopped him. Anna and Mitch were coming over tomorrow specifically to share Christmas morning with their niece. He could imagine how they’d feel if they arrived and found gifts already opened. “’Fraid not, princess.”

  “Please, Daddy, please,” Ivy begged.

  “Just think, once your aunt Anna gets here tomorrow, you get to open Santa’s gifts and the ones from her and your uncle Mitch.” Lauren’s tone remained matter-of-fact.

  Seth pretended not to notice Ivy’s trembling lower lip. Experience had taught him that commenting on her distress would only make things worse. Instead he moved to the sofa and lifted her high over his head, careful not to bang her casts. “Can you see Rudolph from way up there?”

  Ivy giggled. “He’s not here, silly.”

  The childish laughter was music to his ears. As Seth lowered his arms and hugged her close, he was struck by how much of Jan lived in her. Ivy had her mom’s button nose, curly hair and crooked smile. And from the moment she was born, she’d had her mother’s total and complete love.

  Growing up, Jan had experienced firsthand the disaster that sometimes happens when a parent remarries. During those last weeks of life she’d worried that her daughter would experience that same pain. Assuring her that he wouldn’t remarry until Ivy was out of high school had been a small price to pay to ease her fears.

  The promise had been freely given and would be kept. The only problem was that Seth hadn’t foreseen the loneliness of a single-parent existence. Hadn’t fully taken into account his physical needs. His friend Wes Danker had once said that if he had an itch, he scratched it. But Wes wasn’t a father. Seth couldn’t just go out and have a brief fling. Not in Sweet River. Not without causing talk.

  He remembered how hard such gossip had been on Mitch growing up. Seth would never put Ivy in such a position.

  “Good night, Ivy...again.” Lauren stood and leaned close, brushing her lips across the child’s forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

  “You smell good.” Ivy studied Lauren. “You’re very pretty. I bet that’s why Santa kissed you.”

  A swath of red cut across Lauren’s cheeks.

  Ivy squirmed in Seth’s arms so she could look up at him. “You think she’s pretty and smells good, don’t you, Daddy?”

  Seth gave a noncommittal smile. He’d noticed the sultry scent that wafted about Lauren, a scent that stirred his senses. And pretty? No living, breathing man could say otherwise. But this was his sister’s friend, his daughter’s potential babysitter. Although kissing her had probably been a mistake, he wasn’t going to compound the error by saying sweet words that might give her the wrong impression.

  He’d been under the influence of the Santa suit when he’d lost control. Which meant that as long as he steered clear of red velour and hats with pom-poms, he should be safe.

  A wave of irritation washed over Lauren. She’d felt sure that Santa—er, Seth—had noticed her new perfume, but for some reason he refused to admit it. Six months ago she’d have been devastated if Seth had disavowed any attraction to her. But that was when she’d had a silly crush on him, one more suitable to a schoolgirl than a mature, educated woman.

  The “crush” period had begun shortly after she’d moved to Sweet River. She’d never been around a rugged cowboy before. And Seth had been so helpful in getting her settled. When he found out she needed single male subjects for her research project, he’d made it a personal goal to recruit the men.

  For some reason, and perhaps it had been a reaction to the testosterone and kindness, she’d gone off the deep end, getting all nervous and excited whenever he was around. Then one day, she’d overheard him asking Anna to quit trying to hook him up with her friends. Though his tone had been joking, Lauren had realized how ridiculous she’d been acting. Even if he had been interested in her, this was a man who cou
ld never be more than a friend. He was a rancher who loved his home and his life in Montana. She was an academician with her sights set on tenure at an Ivy League college.

  Still, the attraction lingered. Though she wasn’t sure he felt it, there had been electricity in the air whenever they were in the same room. It wasn’t until the steamy dreams started that she finally realized it was a physical attraction drawing her to Seth.

  Just like tonight. The Kiss—it had somehow achieved capitalized status in her mind—had been a purely physical response to the chemistry between them. It had nothing to do with the fact that they shared an interest in the writings of Thoreau, or both loved old horror movies. And the kindness he displayed toward his daughter—and to her—hadn’t factored into the equation at all.

  “It was lust, pure and simple,” Lauren advised the fireplace, giving her head a decisive nod.

  “What was lust?”

  Apparently while she wasn’t looking, Seth had returned to the room after putting Ivy back to bed. He dropped into the chair next to the sofa where Lauren sat.

  “The Kiss,” she said matter-of-factly. “What we experienced was simply a momentary lapse into lust.”

  She could tell she’d surprised him by speaking so frankly, but knew he’d understand. After all, he’d been gripped by the same fierce physical need. Lauren had felt it in the urgency of his lips, had seen it in the fire that had burned in his blue eyes.

  “That kiss—” Seth raked a hand through his hair before continuing “—was a mistake.”

  “I disagree.”

  After shooting her an incredulous glance, Seth jerked to his feet and began to pace. “How can you think otherwise? My daughter saw you kissing me—I mean Santa Claus. She’ll probably be traumatized for life.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She’d never seen anyone make such a big deal out of something that was no big deal. “On the list of things with potential to wound a child’s psyche, seeing your aunt’s friend kissing Santa Claus wouldn’t even make the top ten thousand.”

  His lips quirked upward. “Tell me if you think I’m overreacting.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  Seth laughed then stopped himself. He glanced in the direction of Ivy’s room. “Let’s take this into the kitchen. We can talk more comfortably in there. I’ll make some hot cocoa.”

  “Hot cocoa sounds good.” Realizing that he was concerned about Ivy overhearing their conversation, Lauren rose to her feet and stretched. “Especially if you have marshmallows.”

  Seth unexpectedly grinned. “I’ve got a whole bag.” His smile brought the desire surging back and Lauren was forced to concede it might not be the Santa suit after all. It appeared to be the man in the suit who’d hot-wired her synapses.

  Seth didn’t say a word on the short walk to the kitchen. Lauren hoped some hot cocoa and a whole lot of marshmallows would help him put the kiss in proper perspective.

  When they got to the kitchen, Lauren took a seat at the table while Seth pulled out a teakettle from the cupboard, filled it with water and placed it on one of the gas burners.

  Lauren shot a quick glance at the microwave, reassuring herself that he did indeed have the appliance.

  “Seth.” Lauren leaned back in her chair. “Is your microwave broken?”

  “Works fine.” He stopped scooping cocoa into two Christmas mugs and looked up. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just wondering why you’re heating the water on the stove instead of in the microwave.” Lauren forced herself to sound as nonjudgmental as possible. “I don’t know anyone who uses teakettles anymore.”

  Seth’s gaze shifted to the stove and a look she couldn’t decipher crossed his face.

  “Jan always used one. She loved the way they whistled. She said it was such a happy sound. Even when she was dying, if I put on the teakettle, she—” Seth stopped and cleared his throat. “I use it in the winter because the house gets dry. It does a good job of putting humidity back into the air.”

  Anna had mentioned her sister-in-law had died from an aggressive form of breast cancer. That was the extent of what Lauren knew about the woman.

  “Jan was your wife.” Lauren said it as a statement of fact rather than a question. “Anna mentions her from time to time.”

  Seth nodded, but was saved from saying more when the kettle began to whistle.

  “I can help.” Lauren rose from her seat at the kitchen table as she spoke.

  Seth waved her back down. “Under control.”

  Lauren waited until he’d taken his seat, the mugs before them filled with rich hot chocolate topped with several fluffy marshmallows, before she returned to the topic. ‘Tell me about your wife,” she urged in a soft, low voice that encouraged confidences. “Tell me about Jan.”

  Seth took a sip of cocoa, his gaze watchful. “What do you want to know?”

  “I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting her,” Lauren inclined her head. “I’d like you to share things that will help me get to know her.”

  “Why are you interested?” he asked, his tone more curious than resistant.

  “You and Ivy are my friends.” Lauren spoke as if the answer was obvious. “If I do end up caring for your daughter, knowing something about her mother would be beneficial.”

  “Makes sense,” Seth grudgingly agreed. He took a sip of cocoa then placed his mug on the table. “Jan grew up on a ranch, just outside Sweet River. I knew her my whole life. She was a homebody. She loved to cook, sew and quilt. In fact, she was making a quilt for Ivy when she died. She thought she’d get it finished but—”

  He pushed back his chair with a clatter and jerked to his feet. “I forgot the cookies.”

  The last thing Lauren wanted was more food but she let him go, pretending she hadn’t seen the tears in his eyes. She leaned back in her chair, sipping her hot cocoa while he grabbed the plastic container of cookies from the counter. His bootheels clacked on the hardwood as he returned to the table and plopped the container between them.

  “Have one.” He dropped into a chair and shoved the container closer. The eyes that met hers were clear and very blue.

  Though she knew he’d used the cookies as a distraction, Lauren’s mouth began to water as she gazed at all the varieties. She took a cookie...just to be polite. As she downed a clumsily decorated—yet still delicious— Nutter-Butter-Santa, she waited for Seth to continue his story. She waited. And waited. And waited.

  Lauren didn’t relish playing twenty questions but it appeared she had no choice. She wanted to learn more about Seth’s wife. Not because she was nosy, but because losing a mother at such a young age was hard on a child. Understanding the dynamics of the family relationship would help her better meet Ivy’s needs. Okay, and maybe assuage her curiosity at the same time.

  “Did you two go to the same college?” Anna had told her Seth had graduated from Central Montana University in Bozeman.

  “Jan didn’t attend college,” he replied.

  Lauren quirked a brow.

  “Higher education wasn’t her thing.” Seth shrugged. “She was smart, but it was things around the house that interested her.”

  There were lots of arguments Lauren could have used, even the simple “education for the sake of education,” but she stifled the urge. Why Jan had chosen not to pursue a degree was none of Lauren’s business. “If she didn’t go to college, what did she do after high school?”

  “She worked at Millsteads’ dude ranch.” Seth’s eyes took on a distant glow. “Jan was quite the history buff. She made meals for the tourists the old-fashioned way, in those big cast-iron skillets. Taught them how to make bread and soap the way the settlers did in the 1870s.”

  Lauren heard the pride in his voice, saw it in his eyes. “Sounds like an incredible woman.”

  “Jan always knew exactly what she wanted out of life.” A smile lifted the corners of Seth’s lips. “She was a great wife and mother.”

  Lauren felt a twinge of envy. The
more he shared, the more it became clear that if Seth ever remarried that woman would have some pretty big shoes to fill.

  “I’m not saying she was perfect,” Seth added as if he could read her thoughts. “The fact that she always knew what she wanted sometimes made it hard for her to understand those of us who weren’t so sure.”

  Lauren’s ears pricked up. Seth had experienced career indecision?

  “I struggled with what I wanted to be when I was growing up,” Lauren said as she drew an imaginary figure eight on the tabletop with her finger, remembering the strained silence that would fill the house whenever she suggested something that didn’t meet with her parents’ approval. “I remember one time...I mentioned to my father I was considering getting a business degree and going into market research. He didn’t speak to me for days.”

  “Yeah, right. No one would—” Seth stopped. “You’re serious.”

  Lauren nodded.

  “No offense to your dad, but what’s wrong with that career?”

  “Not prestigious enough. My father is a world- renowned mathematician. To him, market research is more art than science,” Lauren said. “More important, it wasn’t a field he’d chosen for me. Right off that made it unacceptable.”

  “Nice guy.”

  “I ended up falling in love with psychology. He liked that even less, but I let him rant.” Lauren smiled. “What about your parents? Would they have been okay with you becoming something other than a rancher?”

  Seth thought for a moment. “I think so.”

  “Ranching was in your blood.” Lauren kept her tone light. “Right?”

  “The land, this part of the country, is a part of me. I struggled with the expectation that I would become a full-time rancher.” The distant look returned to Seth’s eyes. “From the time I was Ivy’s age, I wanted to be a large-animal vet.”

  “Why didn’t you do it?” Responding to the passion in his voice, Lauren pushed her cup aside. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table.

  “I was actually in my third year of vet school when my father started having health issues. Then he and my mother decided to move to Florida right around the time Jan discovered she was pregnant. It was clear my place was here, not in Bozeman.”