Buffy shifted toward the Burkes. “That’s amazing.” She had only recently become aware of Thomas’ work with the mission through Del.
Del’s brother took a sip of his tea, but he didn’t seem at ease. “I believe the mission has played an important part in combating hunger and homelessness in Larue, but finding enough people to serve, especially during holidays, is challenging. If we continue to see a decline in volunteers, I may have to cut back somewhere. I don’t want to…” He shrugged leaving them to glean the obvious.
Buffy glanced at Ridge. “I’m sorry we didn’t know about this, but I'm sure we have enough able bodies between us to take care of your Christmas meal.” She looked around. “Are y’all up for it?”
“That’s a great idea, Buffy,” Luc said.
Belinda said, “I love it. Sounds like the perfect way to celebrate Christmas.”
Pamela wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood. “We can clean this mess up later.”
Theo squeezed her shoulders. “Good thinking, Pam, and how about we donate the desserts as well. I for one don’t need any more sugar today.”
Buffy and Ridge shared a look. Of course, he didn’t. Her father was the most health-conscious person on either side of the family and therefore the least likely to miss the desserts.
Tommy said, “Bring it on, the more food the better. I can take it over in the van, so you don’t have to be in a hurry.”
Victoria turned to Del’s father and asked about the status on the new Emergency Alert System. Then she noticed Luc and Del exchanging odd looks. Del said, “Um, Dad, Mom… Victoria, sorry for interrupting, but…” she looked at Luc. “Luc and I have some news.”
Del’s mother spun around on her chair and her father put a steadying hand on her arm. Del grabbed Luc’s hand for support. “We’ve… sorta set a date.”
“Oh, baby,” her mother said, and they hugged her while the rest of the family hoo-rahed. Victoria hugged them next.
“When?” Samantha asked. She hadn’t risen from her chair. Del looked at her friend and future sister-in-law. One of the best things about marrying Luc was this wonderful group of people who became her family as well. Samantha had impressed her since she’d met her that first time in Luc’s hospital room. Here she sat and it had been less than twenty-four hours since she’d given birth. Amazing. There were all amazing.
“Winter,” she said. Luc’s sister’s eyes went wide along with his mother’s. She laughed, “Next winter. You know I wouldn’t do that to you. How do you feel about a December wedding?”
Her mother sagged back onto her chair and said, “Finally.”
Her brother laughed, and as she bent down to accept a hug from him he whispered, “I know you. You’re up to something.”
Del whispered back, “Father Thomas, if you out me, I’ll report you to the Pope.”
He chuckled and gave her another squeeze. “Be happy, sis. You deserve it and so does my friend Luc.”
“Let’s celebrate,” said Mr. Burke and he pulled a bottle of champagne from under his chair. “I brought this along because of all the other good news we’ve had in the last twenty-four hours, but I don’t mind telling you, this trumps it for me. Luc, welcome to the family.” He popped the cork and Lillie distributed cups to everyone except Carrie and Buffy who got sparkling cider.
Grandpa Earl stood with Robert’s help and said, “I want to make a toast.” They raised their Styrofoam cups. Earl looked across the living room and met the eyes of each person. “For our family, both blood and ‘outliers’, we give thanks. May we have many more reunions.” He grinned. “And may I live to see them all!” It was several minutes before the laughter died down.
Buffy’s Grandma Lillie stood. “Now that the cheering and congratulating has faded to a dull roar, let’s pull the presents out for the gift exchange. Carrie, Buffy, can you give me a hand?”
Several names were called and their presents handed across the room, then Buffy was surprised to hear her name next. “Buffy,” Lillie said. “Santa left you a package. Buffy reached out to take the brightly wrapped package. There was no way to tell what was in it by its size and shape. Ridge appeared at her side.
“Is this from you?” she asked looking up at him.
“It’s from all of us,” he said smiling. “Open it.”
Buffy tore the packaging off quickly to reveal a small silver box within the larger one. She opened it. Inside, on the shiny satin backing was a ring with a distinctive blue sapphire and the Navy insignia at its center under a bridge of other stones. It had obviously been created with her great-grandmother’s wedding ring.
Her gaze went to Roberta who was beaming at her. Who but her Grandpa Earl would have given his bride a wedding ring with his service insignia on it? She’d only removed it six months ago when her arthritis made it impossible to wear. “It’s beautiful.” Buffy blinked, trying to dispel the tears that had sprung up.
Grandma Roberta said, “I told your sweet husband to have it made into something more ‘hip’ rather than something an old lady would wear.”
Buffy smiled at her, then Ridge. “Your ring was perfect as is, Grandma. But this is beyond…”
“It looks just like one of those fancy rings by Vera Lang.” That brought another round of smiles.
“I love her designs, too, Grandma,” said Buffy, not bothering to correct her.
Roberta said, “The artist Ridge found was very talented. We told her we might want to add more stones one day, like when you decide to pass it down to your own grand-daughter.”
This was what Buffy loved about her life, about her family and her home—the traditions, the love, valuing the past and looking forward to the future with her expanding family. “I love you all so much.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Buffy hugged her great-grandmother, and then knelt down beside the tree to pick up a small box wrapped in pink and silver. “Now it’s my turn.”
She walked across the room to Sam and Nina. “Traditionally, the first girl born in the current generation gets a symbol of the family.” She handed the box to Samantha who opened it to see a tiny charm bracelet, a string of Swarovski crystals with a Celtic “C” dangling from it. “It’s a symbol of the Calloway clan.” Nina’s eyes went from Buffy’s face to her mother’s.
Samantha said, “Thank you all.” Buffy knew the simple gift meant even more to Samantha since the Larues and her extended Calloway family had embraced her baby as if there were no secrets. When Sam was ready to talk about it, they’d all be there for her.
Lillie looked at Ridge and said, “The next present is for you, Earl.” Ridge pulled a long box out from under his seat and walked forward with it, taking the chair next to Earl. Everyone seemed to sense it was a moment that could go either way, given the recalcitrance of their patriarch.
Earl had a soft spot for his new in-law, but still, his right eyebrow rose and his left eye squinted. Ridge just ignored him, clearly not intimidated at all.
Buffy smiled at her grandmother. “If Grandpa Earl thinks that will work on Ridge he doesn’t know him very well. He’s had way too much experience with therapy resistant hard cases.”
Lillie sat down next to Robert. “You know I love your father but I just wish he was a little more PC.”
Robert said, “He’s ninety-two years old, sugar. PC has always lived on another plane from Dad. It’s not even in his vocabulary.”
Ridge looked Grandpa Earl in the eye. “Sir, I know you said you and your arm are old buddies and believe me, I’ve heard that, a lot.” Soldiers who’d received their prostheses back in Earl’s era had a variety of responses to more advanced versions. Earl had made his opinion known the first time Ridge met him, but he was hoping they knew each other well enough now that Ridge’s custom design would be something Earl could not only accept, but enjoy for his remaining years.
“Think of the added dexterity and functionality you could have for the next twenty-five years. You’d be a new man.” Earl knew him, too, knew he wouldn�
�t press the issue if he didn’t have good reason.
He opened the box on his lap and lifted a sleek, obviously hi-tech forearm, holding it between his two index fingers to illustrate how light it was. The eyebrow arch and eye squint went from mild to extreme. “Hear me out, please, sir. I made this for you but I’ve already got several soldiers in mind for this design. I’m calling it ‘Earl-tech’. I’ll be using some of the same technology on other limbs as well.”
The ‘hand’ was covered by a soft sheer cloth and as Ridge removed it, writing came into view. Earl eyed the sleek flesh-toned limb.
Lillie asked, “Are those signatures?”
Earl said, “Well, of course they are, woman. They—” he frowned and pulled his glasses down on the tip of his nose. He swallowed. “That says, Big…” He blinked as his voice trailed off.
Robert laid his hand on his father’s shoulder and asked, “Dad, are those your men?” more for the benefit of those that couldn’t see, but also allowing Earl time to gain his composure. Earl looked at Ridge and Buffy saw the love and respect for her husband shining in his eyes.
“May I see?” Robert asked.
“You don’t have to be worried about smearing them. They’re permanent. It won’t wash off or wear,” Ridge said. He handed the artificial limb to Robert. Earl stared at Ridge as his son read off the five names on the device. All of them had served under Earl on his last tour of WWII.
Earl’s lips quivered for a second, then quirked. He shook his head as he stared at Ridge, once again giving him his famous stare. “You fight dirty, boy.”
The only time Buffy saw the expression that Ridge turned on her great-grandfather was with the vets he served. It was a special connection, a bond of trust. “Whatever it takes, sir. I don’t like to leave any man or limb behind. The best part of this ‘hand’ is that it’s custom made for you. No surgery is required though if you’ll allow me to come over one afternoon I’ll set the programming, and it will respond to your own commands, such as ‘fist, grasp… point.” Ridge smiled when Earl looked up at him sharply. “Yes, you’ll be able to point whenever you feel like it.”
He glanced at Lillie who pointed her finger at Earl and warned, “Don’t even think about it, you old coot.”
Earl’s eyebrow rose and he said, “Well, what are ya’ waitin’ for? Put it on.”
For a few minutes, Robert helped Ridge change out the old limb for new. When it was attached, Earl held it out, surveying it as if deciding if it would pass muster to replace the old limb that he’d been so ‘attached’ to. He extended it out in front of him, and Ridge said, “Point.”
Earl’s eyes went wide as the last three fingers and thumb of his new hand bent in quickly and fluidly leaving his index finger extended. He looked over at Lillie, grinning like a mischievous kid, and pointed it in her direction.
She groaned. “Oh, my God, Ridge. You’ve created a monster.” But Lillie’s eyes held tears of joy. They’d had their moments through the years but she did love her father-in-law.
Earl aimed his finger like a six shooter at some of the other members of the family giving everyone a good laugh. Then he looked at Ridge, his expression serious. “Thank you, son,” Earl said. “If you’ll show me how, maybe I could hand out napkins at the mission tonight with my new pinchers.”
Ridge said, “I can certainly do that.”
Earl tapped his new index finger on his wheelchair and said, “Get the rest of these gifts handed out.” The gifts went flying after that.
The sound of wrapping being torn gave Madison the distraction she needed to slip away. While she was always invited and made to feel welcome, she could easily escape and not be missed.
She tiptoed down the hallway toward the guest room. The door wasn’t closed completely. She tapped softly and when there was no answer, eased it open. A cheer went up from the living room and she hurriedly slipped inside and pressed the door shut.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In the low light of the bedroom Maddie made out Beau’s large body draped across the burgundy comforter like a dead man, his face planted into the pillow.
Her feet moved of their own accord as she was drawn toward him. What was she doing here? How would she explain? Watching his back rise rhythmically in sleep she figured it probably wouldn’t come to that. The raised voices hadn’t awakened him, and… she just wanted to see him. Wanted a few moments while he was unguarded, without that angry undercurrent he dragged around with him like a lead weight.
When she came even with his face, she stopped. His hair was wet at the temples and there was a sheen of sweat on his cheekbone. That was all she could see. Her fingers wanted so badly to stroke the sweat off his brow and tangle in his thick black hair so she fisted them at her sides. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to touch him.
She felt the physical ache in her chest that had been there since he’d broken it off, creating an invisible wall between them. If she could just understand why, then maybe she’d be able to let him go. But he hadn’t convinced her he didn’t still love her. Yes, he’d actually said those words to her several times, though not recently. She frowned and angled her head to see more of his face. When had it all changed?
The view from the window over the bed indicated a change in the weather. The wind was howling and the sky was heavy with thick gray clouds, the glass framed with a three-inch edge of fog from the difference in temperature. It really must be getting cold.
Movement from the bed startled her and she turned to find Beau lying on his back, his hand pushing through his hair, those gorgeous emerald eyes blinking the sleep away. Propping himself up on his elbows, he squinted, whether adjusting to the dark or from curiosity. “Maddie?”
Maddie. No one called her that but him and mostly during their lovemaking. He seemed… vulnerable somehow, his expression open. She eased down onto the bed next to him. His scent nearly overwhelmed her. It was a mixture of his signature cologne, body heat and maybe testosterone, a gene all his own. He was so male. So big and strong with an elegance of movement that belied his size. It had made him a star without even trying. But for her he was just…Beau.
Her hand disobeyed finally and she reached out to stroke his hair back from his eyes. She wanted to look at them, at him. God, she was so hungry for him, it was a wonder her stomach didn’t growl. And yet, she steeled herself for his rejection.
His head angled and he pressed his cheek into her palm. His eyes closed. He was hot. Vic had said he’d picked up a bug. She knew he would not take kindly to coddling so she didn’t mention it. Those usually vibrant eyes glinted with fever and lowered to her mouth. She licked her lips. When he didn’t move and didn’t quit staring, she leaned forward.
She couldn’t not.
Her eyes met his as their lips touched and he groaned from somewhere deep in his chest. He took the kiss deeper immediately, angling his head and scooting closer to put his weight on one arm and place his other behind her to pull her into him.
His chest pressed tight against hers, his tongue pushed into her mouth, commanding she open and give as much as she received. Always. He never did anything halfway and demanded the same. She gave herself up to the feel of him for he was so close and it had been so long.
His hand left her neck and she almost cried out, No, but then it was slipping up under her sweater, beneath her bra to take her breast in his palm. She kissed him harder, sucked his tongue into her mouth, needing to be closer. His hand stilled suddenly and her mind cried out, No, don’t stop!
Then the sound of voices in the other room penetrated the haze of desire. Her eyes rose to his, and she watched the change as his face went from warm and open to closed. And there was that seed of anger—the bitterness that had been present since before their breakup. He released her breast, pulled her sweater down and sat up on the side of the bed. Running both hands through his hair, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
In just seconds he’d pulled on his cloak of indifference. It ma
de her heart hurt so much she almost wilted in front of him.
“What are you doing here, Madison?”
She was Madison again. They were back where they’d been, or worse. What could she say? How about the truth? Buffy had suggested telling him the truth. She sighed. Well, things couldn’t get any worse could they?
She sat up straight. They were nearly eye to eye, regardless of his height, and so close. If he turned, and she hoped he wanted to, he could still lean forward and kiss her again. She said, “I missed you.”
His eyes narrowed and she thought, Dumb. She knew immediately it was a mistake. It was truthful but not what she’d intended. He frowned as if trying to figure out what had just happened. He was squinting at her, as if trying to figure her out. “It’s been five years.”
Well, at least he’d kept track. That meant something, right? She straightened, feeling the courage, her confidence momentarily surging. “So?”
“You’ve had five years to get a life,” he said harshly. She blinked, her next words died on her tongue.
He’d turned missing him into a pathetic symbol of her life. Well, wasn’t it?
“Maybe I don’t want to,” she said. Here was the truth she could stand behind no matter what he thought of her.
“It’s over.”
Her eyes blazed into his for a long moment and she leaned forward, daring him to move. He didn’t, and there might have been a little flare of something—surprise, anger, desire?—in his eyes. While she had his full attention she said bravely, “You didn’t kiss me like you felt it was over.”
His eyes remained cool when he said, “I was sleeping. I’ve been…ill.. And—”
“Okay, if you say so.” She wasn’t buying it and he knew it.
He said, “Besides, you were pretty chummy with the hero quarterback at the party.”
“You have no right to tell me—”
Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances Page 65
