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Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

Page 64

by Nicole Morgan


  His mother reached for him. “If I wasn’t so ecstatic—” her voice choked off and he felt her sobs as she pressed her face to his chest.

  “Aww, Mom, I’m sorry. I’m a bad son. I sho—”

  She jerked back like he’d struck her. “Don’t you ever say that, Ridge Romano. I know you would have called us today, probably as a Christmas surprise. We love you, honey. I’m just so glad you finally have what you deserve, a woman who adores you and a baby. . .on the way.” her voice squeaked. "Your brother would be so proud and happy for you. Now we’ll have two babies to celebrate.” She locked an arm around Belinda’s waist. “And our sweet Carrie to be a big sister to them both. It couldn’t be a better Christmas.”

  Buffy moved next to Ridge as Jeff said, “There was so much going on last night that Belinda and I didn’t get a chance to tell you our other news. We’re moving east.” He smiled at Belinda and Carrie and Ridge’s parents.

  Carrie grinned back at her step-father who obviously loved her very much. Ridge felt relief for Belinda and Carrie and gratitude toward Jeff. His mother’s eyes had more life in them than he’d seen in years, since before John had deployed the first time. Ridge couldn’t believe how things had turned around for all of them in the last couple years.

  He was reminded of what the men in their transition programs told him repeatedly. When things seemed the darkest was not the time to give up. It was also the most difficult time and the reason why they needed a support system. A twinge hit him like a brick between the eyes, a regret so strong he almost doubled over. If only John hadn’t given up, if only he’d had the help to get him through his depression.

  He cleared his throat. “I was going to call you today and give you another Christmas present. I got a letter from Senator Roberts. They’re building a mental health facility next to the hospital. It’s going to be called the John P. Romano Memorial wing.”

  “Oh.” His mother reached for his father’s hand and squeezed it. “You are the best brother, Ridge. The very best. I know this was your doing.”

  Ridge just said, “They’ll be in touch with you soon to be at the ground-breaking ceremony.”

  Buffy agreed with Ridge’s mother. Her husband’s prime motivation when he’d met her had been to take care of the world. His life was more balanced now, his big heart and open pockets just part of his generous nature. He’d been given much—talent, intelligence, love and had turned that into a multi-billion-dollar—soon to be trillion-dollar—operation that benefited veterans, families and virtually anyone who knew him.

  “Are you feeling okay, Buffy?” her mother-in-law asked, smiling.

  “Mom, she’s just pregnant,” Ridge said. Then seeing the look on her face, he asked, “What are you smiling about? That’s one of those clever Lana smiles.”

  “I just love Christmas and all these surprises.” She reached up and surprised him, bringing his lips down to hers. He responded tenderly and she knew he shared the emotions that overwhelmed her. The drone of voices became distant. Awareness centered on her palms on his neck…

  “Hey, you guys! Get a room.” Mack said as he kicked the door from the kitchen open eliciting groans from Samantha and Vic.

  Then the front door opened again and Del’s parents entered with Father Thomas, her brother, following in his wheelchair. Buffy took their coats to one of the spare bedrooms while Ridge introduced the Burkes to his parents. The room was boisterous and jovial. From the kitchen door Victoria announced, “As they say in the Navy, all hands on deck. Everybody, grab a dish from the kitchen and carry it to that table along the back wall there in the dining room. We’ll eat buffet style.”

  They formed a line into the kitchen where Pamela and Victoria handed each of them an entree or vegetable dish with the last of them receiving desserts.

  “Mack, if I see any part of that cobbler missing before we say grace…” Vic said.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” said Mack as he quickly put the cobbler down at the end of the long table and stepped back, saluting.

  “Don’t get smart with me, Marine,” she said.

  “No, Ma’am, Sir,” he quipped looking at Luc and Samantha.

  Everybody stood as Lillie said, “We are so blessed to have you all here with us today. I’m sure you agree it’s been the best of Christmases in a long time. Father Thomas, would you say grace?”

  After Tommy gave the blessing the exuberant laughter resumed, along with the clamor of dishes which inevitably settled into silence.

  A short time later the back door slid open and a voice said, “I don’t think I’ve heard this house this quiet ever. It’s a sign of either great food or starved humans.”

  “Or both,” said Mack, rising from his position across from the back door to greet the newcomer.

  “Beau.” Victoria and her husband, Sam, put their forks down and rose to greet their beloved nephew.

  Beau kissed Vic and hugged Sam, murmuring, “I've missed you both.” He towered over them even though both Victoria and her husband were tall.

  Earl turned his wheelchair toward the front door and said, “It’s about time you got here, boy.”

  Beau could only be called a boy by his great-uncle, who was the one he went to next. “Uncle Earl. You’re still givin’ everybody hell I see.” He leaned over and kissed the top of the old man’s head. “I brought you something.” He pulled the worn hat off Earl’s head and flipped it into a corner behind the couch, then took a brand-new ball cap from his jacket and placed it on his head. “You can wear it when you’re out riding on your six-wheeler.”

  Earl had an extensive cap collection. He grinned and tugged it down. “I don’t wear the new ones. They go on the wall.”

  Beau shook hands with the rest of his uncles, kissed Buffy and returned to Victoria’s side. "Sorry I'm late." He looked away pretending to be interested in the new linoleum.

  Lillie said, “At least you made it, hon. You get more handsome every day. You remind me of your father.”

  Luc said, “Nah, he’s what they call in Hollywood, ‘Tall, dark and gloomy’.” He held his hand out to Beau. “How’ve you been, cousin?”

  Beau kept an arm around his aunt and shook Luc’s hand. “Blowin’ and goin’, Luc. How's the shoulder?" Beau was referring to the injury Luc had sustained over the Summer when his stalker had hurled a concrete planter off the roof of his gym at him. Luckily, Del had been there to avert any further assault.

  "Good as new." Luc frowned. "You, on the other hand, look like you haven't slept in a year. Don't they do vacations out there in sunny California?"

  Vic brushed Beau’s hair back and frowned as she looked at his face, placing a palm on his whiskered cheek. Instead of his normal healthy complexion, his skin was hot and there were dark circles under his eyes. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends looks like to me. Come on, let’s get you a plate.”

  “I’ve got it here, Vic,” a familiar voice said.

  Chapter Twenty

  Beau’s head snapped around, and if Victoria hadn’t been so concerned about him, she’d have laughed when she saw his thunderstruck expression.

  Madison stood behind him holding a plate piled up with his favorite holiday items, mashed potatoes and gravy, turkey and dressing, yams, and some of Buffy’s famous chicken casserole.

  Madison waited for Beau to say something. Ask how she’d been, Hey Maddie, you’re looking just as beautiful as when I left. Why don’t I sit by you and we’ll catch up? I’ve missed you. But he just looked at her briefly, said, “Thanks,” as if they were strangers.

  He didn’t recognize her. He turned away and Madison swallowed. Somehow she got back to her seat but the voices and conversation just buzzed around her like annoying gnats. To appear normal and keep from giving in to her despair, she nibbled at the food on her plate without tasting, taking less and less as she struggled to keep it down. All the while she watched him, her heart in her throat.

  Beau stood still for a moment staring at the food on the plate, wonde
ring what he should say. He hadn’t meant to be so abrupt. He could tell he’d hurt Madison’s feelings. She’d caught him off guard. But he supposed it was for the best. He searched for a chair.

  Luc placed an extra chair next to his own and waved him over. “Set it down here, Beau and get something to drink.”

  Victoria said, “I’ve got it. Sweet tea, right, Beau?”

  Beau shook his head. “Actually, I’d rather have water if it’s okay. I’ll get it.” He started to set his plate down but she waved him off. “Sit. I’ll bring it to you.”

  They resumed eating for a few minutes then Luc asked, “When did you get in, Beau?”

  Beau paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “A…bout an hour ago. I came directly here.”

  Luc said, “Uh-huh,” and looked at Del.

  Beau’s eyes narrowed. What was that about? “I’m filming in Atlanta this coming week so I can’t stay long but I didn’t want to miss seeing y'all.” He glanced over at Samantha. “I heard about that lightning fast delivery. You are one tough duck you know that?”

  She grinned back at him and nodded. “I’ve been telling you boys that for years. When you’re done eating I’ll let you hold the baby.” Something the media didn’t know about the reticent, secretive movie star was his penchant for holding babies, though the family was well aware.

  He grinned, “I’ll try to hurry then,” but Sam noticed he’d barely touched his food.

  The baby snuffled against her neck and she said, “Buffy’s expecting, too, Beau.”

  “Congratulations, you two,” Beau said turning to Ridge and Buffy. Everywhere he went there were people putting down roots, having babies. Everyone but him.

  Buffy smiled, “Thanks. We’re beyond ecstatic. And to change the subject, not so subtly, you know whenever you’re home for longer than a day, we could use a famous movie star in our portfolio.”

  Beau grinned and shook his head, looking at Ridge. “She’s nothing if not persistent.”

  Ridge said, “As I know from experience. And you forgot 'subtle'.”

  Beau leaned back in the chair and winced. “How could I have forgotten? You look good on those covers, Ridge. They’re all over the airports. You probably could have made it in LA.”

  Ridge shook his head. “Not interested.”

  Beau turned to Buffy. “I thought the idea was to use heroes on the cover or something. I’m certainly not a hero type. I haven’t even been in the service.”

  Buffy was startled by the edge in Beau’s voice and by his self-assessment but recovered quickly. “We do try to hire vets when the opportunity arises but sometimes the model is too enticing to resist.” She winked at him.

  Beau nodded absently, then frowned and put his plate down. He excused himself and walked down the hallway toward the bathroom.

  Buffy’s expression changed to worry. “Something’s wrong.” Ridge squeezed her hand.

  Victoria said, “I think our Beauregard is under the weather. I’ll go check on him.”

  She waited outside the bathroom for several minutes. When he came out, she was planted in front of the door like the fearsome soldier she’d been in the service.

  “Jeez, Aunt Vic. Can’t a guy—”

  “Don’t mess with me, son. You’re sick. What’s wrong?” Her sharp eyes scanned his face as she ran her hands over his shoulders.

  “I’m just a little—” She put her hand on his forehead and wouldn’t allow him to jerk away.

  “You have a fever and you look like shit.”

  He blinked. He should have known he couldn’t fool the Commander, but he’d forgotten. He’d been away too long. “Thanks, but…” Sighing, he gave up, waited while she squinted at him assessing.

  Victoria’s mind clicked through all the possibilities. He’d merely picked at his food and he’d asked for water instead of his favorite sweet tea. “Is it your kidneys?”

  His eyes flared in unwilling acknowledgment. “Quiet, Aunt Vic. No one is supposed to know about that. You promised.”

  “And no one does but you, me and your Uncle Sam, but that doesn’t mean I’ll keep it to myself if you don’t do right. I mean it, Beau. Out with it.”

  He sighed and leaned against the wall. “It's a kidney infection.”

  “How long? What are you taking?” She fired off the questions.

  “I have antibiotics.”

  “How long? This has been going on a while hasn’t it?” Victoria kept up the pace of her questions, not giving him a chance to think up a lie.

  He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and sighed. “Two months… or so.”

  To her credit, she didn’t explode and call the family into the hallway. She lowered her voice but her concern came through clearly. “Beau, you can’t keep going like this.”

  “I’m not, Aunt Vic. The doctor wants to put me on some new high powered antibiotics, but I have to finish this movie first or I’ll get sued.”

  “Your health has to come first, Beau.”

  He studied the woman who’d been like a mother to him for most of his life—since his parents had died and he'd gone to live with his Uncle Sam. She was still beautiful even in her sixties and as strong as ever. Her short white hair made her blue eyes stand out like the winter sky. Actually, his uncle had been a mother to him, since he’d been the ‘mom’ of their family while Vic had been stationed overseas. He'd missed both of them so much sometimes he ached with it. He could count on either one of them for whatever he needed.

  “I know, Aunt Vic. As soon as the movie’s done, I’m going back to LA and getting on that protocol. Just don’t rat me out to the pack.” His voice was hoarse with fatigue. “They’d never let me leave and I can’t afford for this to get out.”

  Listening to her big tough nephew, the star people in Hollywood were so intimidated by, beg her to keep his condition from the ones who loved him most nearly broke Vic’s heart, but she had to give him what he wanted. “For now, Beau. But I’m going to call you—when did you say shooting was over in Atlanta?” Her steely eyes drilled into his.

  He cleared his throat. “Sometime in February.”

  “All right. On February 20th if I haven’t heard from you, I’ll be on your doorstep, or that movie set, carrying you to the doctor personally, and I’ll bring your Uncle Sam, Luc and Mack with me, so don’t think you’re getting out of it.”

  “I promise, mother,” he teased affectionately but knew she was dead serious.

  She stroked his hair away from his face. “This is nothing to mess with, sweetheart.”

  Beau nearly groaned aloud at the endearment. He gave in briefly to her mothering and pulled her into a hug, more for himself than her. He was so tired and it was taking every bit of grit he had to pretend, much less to argue. What could he say? He was a hell of an actor, or so he’d been told. He’d better be; he had almost two months until they finished the movie and the camera could pick up the smallest lie. God, if he could just lie down until the plane left tomorrow.

  Her voice startled him. “Why don’t you lie down back here in the guest room?” He’d almost fallen asleep mid-hug. He really was tired. Perhaps she was right. “But—”

  “I’ll make your excuses—lie for you this one time and say you have a stomach bug.”

  He hated that she was right. He wanted to see his family, he didn’t get home much. She knew him better than anyone and recognized the reason for his hesitation.

  “We love you, Beau, and we miss you, too, but we’re family. We’ll be here when you get home next time.” She put her fingers over his lips. “Everyone will understand.” She smiled up at him.

  “I love you, Aunt Victoria.” He loved her as much as any kid could love his mother.

  The lines around her eyes lifted as her smile deepened. “And you know I love you too, Beauregard. Now, go on. I’ll come get you before any of us leave.” She pushed him gently toward the open door at the end of the hall.

  He pulled away and nodded, stumbling down the hallway to the guest ro
om. Seconds later, he’d fallen across the wide bed and was fast asleep. He didn’t move when Vic placed the quilt over him.

  When Victoria walked back into the living room without her nephew, Madison was the first to frame the question, “What’s wrong with Beau?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Several concerned faces turned toward Victoria as she sat down next to her husband. She said, “Beau has picked up a bug. I suggested he take a nap. He only agreed if we wake him before we leave. He’s had a grueling schedule but the filming finishes in February and he promised to get in touch.” She squeezed Sam’s hand, careful not to look at him or her children would catch on, if they hadn’t already.

  Del’s mother said, “We’re going over to St. Teresa’s when we leave here. If any of you have time, we’re serving Christmas dinner to upwards of a thousand people at the mission and we could use some extra help.”

  Thomas’ church sat in the heart of Larue. He’d taken a derelict homeless shelter and turned it into a thriving mission which not only served the community’s homeless and less fortunate but was open to the entire community for lunch. The funds they collected for meals went back into the mission’s budget.

  Del's brother was extraordinary. After a stray bullet from a gang fight had put him in a wheelchair, Thomas had committed his life to changing the downtown culture, including those gangs. Del was still amazed that she hadn’t known of her brother’s involvement with Luc’s kids until she agreed to be part of his presentation at the teen center.

  “Mom’s right,” Thomas said. “We need volunteers to serve food, bus tables and wash dishes.”

  Del said, “Tommy and his volunteers fed nearly two thousand people Thanksgiving Day.”

 

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