Be Mine This Christmas

by Jean Brashear

  After all, she had less than half a heart left, herself.

  “Yo, Gib! Phone,” called his car chief, Randy Holcomb. This close to Christmas, much of the staff was taking time off, but Randy was nearly as obsessed with the team as Gib himself, plus he had visions of someday replacing Gib.

  Not yet, buddy, Gib thought, but aloud, he only said, “Who is it?”

  “Some girl named Torie.”

  Gib stood up so fast his chair nearly toppled. He grabbed the phone. “Torie? Is everything all right?”

  “We need you to come home, Gib.”

  Home. The word was sweet as honey, but Sweetgrass Springs couldn’t be his home. His home was here. Had to be. “What’s wrong? Is it Bobby?”

  “Everyone’s fine, except—”

  His heart hit the ground with a dull thud. “Except who? Is your mom okay? Is it you? What about Lily and Andre?”

  “Nobody’s sick, it’s just that—” Her voice quivered a little. “Nobody’s happy since you left. Why did you go?”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He sighed. How to explain? “It’s a long story.”

  “Could you come back, just for Christmas? You don’t work on a holiday, do you?”

  Actually, he worked most every day, but at the moment, he couldn’t quite remember why as longing swamped him, thinking about spending Christmas with Dulcie’s little family. Having even one more hour with Dulcie herself. “Torie, it’s just that—” He exhaled in frustration. He couldn’t tell her that Dulcie had sent him away. That was Dulcie’s secret to reveal.

  “We love you, Gib. Mom does, too.”

  Gib’s heart thumped like it might leap from his chest. “She said that?”

  “Not exactly,” Torie admitted. “But I can tell. She’s sad in a way I’ve never seen her. We all are. We miss you.”

  Gib closed his eyes against the yearning. “Honey, I wish I could, but—”

  “Lily’s program is tonight. You could still get here.”

  Lily had recited her lines to Gib a hundred times, so proud to have a speaking part in the holiday show. Torie wasn’t pulling any punches in her effort to convince him, and Gib was filled with reluctant admiration. She was some kid.

  And she was right. He could make it in his plane. Dulcie couldn’t control who attended the show, and he would remain out of sight, anyway, but he’d see Lily play her part, and later he could write her and tell her what a great job she did.

  If he longed to do so much more—sit with the family, cheer Lily loudly, well…just glimpsing them all would be better than nothing. Sure thing, Gib. It’s gonna break your heart and you know it.

  But so be it. For the only time he could remember, there was somewhere he wanted to be more than the shop. Having mailed presents for them to his aunt and uncle hadn’t been enough—he wanted to experience the holiday with them.

  “You’re going to make good team owner, Torie. I dare anyone to try to stop you, with those persuasive skills.”

  “You’ll come?” The thrill in her voice warmed him to his toes.

  “I’ll be there,” he promised. “But don’t say anything to your mom.”

  “Cool! I won’t say a word. See you tonight!” The sunny girl was back.

  “Bye, Torie.” Gib hung up, sporting his first smile in days.

  Excitement was in the air, so close to Christmas, with a room full of kids anticipating what Santa would bring them. Then there were the families gathered to watch their children perform. Veronica and Jackson Gallagher anchored a row filled with siblings and Jackson’s dad James plus assorted toddlers and infants there to see twins Abby and Beth, Rissa and Mackey’s son Eric and Eric’s sometimes bestie, sometimes foe Samantha on the stage. Veronica turned to Dulcie. “Abby’s going to do something memorable, I’m sure. Brace yourself.”

  Dulcie had to grin. Abby Butler Gallagher was a born showboat, unlike her quieter twin. “She’s wonderful, you know.”

  Penny Calhoun turned with a grin. “Check out the diva shoes. We spent a whole day in San Antonio shopping.”

  Jackson shook his head. “She should be your child, Stiletto Queen.”

  Penny chuckled. “I’ll take her. Vee is no shopping goddess. Abby needs me.”

  Jackson rolled his eyes. “The retail sector thanks you, I’m sure.”

  “Good thing you’re rich.” Penny smiled at her twin.

  “He won’t be for long, Sissy,” Rissa chimed in. “Anyway, who needs that many shoes?”

  It was Penelope’s turn to roll her eyes. “Not all of us wear the same boots and jeans every day.”

  The sisters smiled at each other, the love between them clear.

  Dulcie envied them so, this big, complicated, loving family. She wanted that for her children, but the best she could manage was this wonderful little town. She turned to her brood, the excitement in them palpable. Dulcie could barely stop them squirming, waiting for Lily to appear. Then there was Torie, who kept glancing toward the back, as though she expected someone.

  Dulcie wished Gib would surprise them by showing up, too, but it wasn’t going to happen. She would have to buck up and explain to Torie that she was at fault for Gib leaving and never coming back.

  If only he hadn’t kissed her. Being with him had been hard enough, the constant reminders of the boy she’d loved mingled with a man she was coming to admire more every day. Discovering that the heat and hunger were more alive than ever had thrilled her, shocked her—then slapped her with a dose of cold reality. She was a hair’s-breadth from falling for him all over again, and the blow when he’d have to end it would be more than she could bear. She couldn’t risk it.

  Suddenly Bobby squealed from her lap, “Man!”

  Dulcie’s heart stuttered. No. It couldn’t be. Terrified, she nearly didn’t turn to look in the direction Bobby was pointing.

  But she couldn’t help herself, and as she did, she caught Torie’s expression, furtive and glowing at the same time. “What have you done?” she asked her daughter.

  Torie’s defiant jaw was once again in evidence, but Dulcie spared no time to argue because she’d just caught sight of Gib, ducking behind a pillar in the back. “Oh, Torie…” Yet even as she groaned, her heart leaped.

  “Are you mad, Mom?” Torie hovered between headstrong teen and little girl. “He needs us, and we need him.”

  Dulcie closed her eyes. But we can’t afford to. Yet the plea in her daughter’s eyes, the delight on Bobby’s face—

  Then Andre caught a glimpse of Gib and took off like a rocket.

  “Andre!” Dulcie rose, but Andre had scooted down the row and slithered so quickly through the crowd taking their seats that she was helpless to stop him. All she could do was try to keep her eyes on him and pray Gib was, too. “Go ahead, Torie. But don’t lose your brother.”

  Torie’s eyes lit. “Yes!” She popped from her chair and charged after Andre.

  “Gib,” Bobby crowed, his wide grin everything that Dulcie wanted to let herself feel as she watched Gib lift Andre into his arms and hug Torie to his side, both kids chattering a mile a minute.

  She loved him still, she might as well admit it. She would never get him out of her heart, but there was so much separating them.

  Including a secret that might part them for good.

  She was jolted from her thoughts as Bobby literally launched himself from her lap. Gib managed to catch him without dropping Andre. “Dulcie, I—” His face was troubled.

  She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I can guess who got you here.” She cast a glance at Torie, who blushed but kept her head high.

  Then the lights dimmed, and there was no time to talk. Somehow Torie arranged it so that Gib sat beside Dulcie, holding Andre in his lap, while Torie cuddled Bobby.

  Everything in Dulcie struggled to focus on Lily’s play.

  Instead of the strong, sexy, beloved man beside her.

  The evening was chaos. Lily had managed every line perfectly, and Gib had cheered louder than anyone in the
family, thrilling Andre by lifting him to his shoulders to wave as Lily took her bow with the others. He’d cajoled Dulcie into letting him take them all, including Aunt Nita and Uncle Raymond, to Ruby’s for pie and ice cream to celebrate after, then suffered with her through the aftereffects of the sugar rush as they wrestled three squirmy, beyond-exhausted children to bed.

  He couldn’t believe how much he loved it. How much he’d missed them all.

  Now Torie was taking herself off to bed after kissing his cheek and assuring her mother that she didn’t need tucking in because she was too old for that. Dulcie seemed both sad and relieved.

  They were alone, at last, and he would have to face the music. “I know I didn’t stay away—” he began.

  “I saw the picture,” she said at the same moment.

  “What?” they echoed.

  “You first,” Gib offered. “What picture?”

  Color stained Dulcie’s cheeks. “Your gorgeous blond girlfriend.” She looked anywhere but at him.

  “What girlfriend?” Though he thought he knew.

  “Hello? Slinky red dress? Big boobs?”

  “Oh. That’s just Alex.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Just Alex? She’s a model, Gib. No man calls her just Alex unless he’s got too many other women on the string to care.”

  “We’ve dated.” He shrugged. “That’s all. She’s a friend.” He leaned forward, trying to see her averted face. “And I don’t have a string of other women.”

  “It doesn’t matter. That photo only highlights how different our lives are. How little we have in common. Which is good,” she said brightly. “Since you’ll disappear again soon.” She rose and walked to the kitchen.

  He followed, grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “I’m not the one who disappeared, Dulcie. You knew where I was, and you understood why. It was our joint decision. You promised you’d join me in Charlotte, and I worked like hell to create a life for us there—but you never showed. You vanished, then turned up later with a husband. And all you could say was that you wanted something different. That we were too different.” All the old hurts and bewilderment rolled over him like new. He loomed over her. “I loved you with everything in me, and you walked out, Dulcie. I want to know why.”

  Dulcie stared up at him, not afraid, not angry, not fighting back. Instead, her blue eyes were swimming with unshed tears, and she looked devastated. She pressed one hand to trembling lips as the tears spilled over. “Gib—” Her voice caught, and she struggled to master her feelings. “Let’s sit down.”

  Her tone was starting to frighten him. “No, tell me right here. Right now.”

  She was as pale as water, and her whole frame quivered. He grasped her arms, afraid for her. “Dulcie?”

  “No.” She wrenched away. “Don’t hold me. You won’t want to comfort me when you know.”

  He’d always had a second sense that told him when a driver was in trouble, when a race was going bad, but never in his life had he felt a dread like this. “Tell me, Dulcie.” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended. “Please,” he amended.

  Her back was to him, and he thought he’d never seen her so vulnerable. “You can’t be afraid of me.” The very thought horrified him. “Dulcie, I would never—”

  She held up a hand, then slowly turned. “No, but you’d have every right—” Her voice broke.

  “Honey, you’re scaring me. Maybe we should wait.” What on earth could be causing her such distress?

  “No.” She shook her head violently. “We’ve waited too long. I’ve waited too long.” She lifted her head and faced him like a man staring down the firing squad. “I never meant to hurt you, Gib, you have to know that. I did it for you.”

  “Did what?” The sick feeling spread.

  “Torie.”

  “Torie?” he echoed dully. “What about her?”

  “She’s your daughter, Gib. I got pregnant from that one night, and I couldn’t tell you. If you’d known, you would have come back here and given up your dream, and I knew what that dream meant to you. I left town to have the baby, and my parents wanted me to give her up, but I couldn’t.” Tears flooded again. “I’d lost you. I couldn’t lose our child, too.”

  Most of her words were a dull gong, a racing river drowning out his ability to absorb more than Torie and daughter, at first. Then they were quickly swept away by fury as all he’d lost sank in. “Daughter?” That bright, beautiful child with all the moxie to defy her mother and bring him back? She was his? “I have to—” He wanted to see Torie, to hold her, to somehow fill the sudden void of years of missing a baby, a toddler, a little girl looking up to him with that smile he only now realized was his own.

  He rushed to the door, only to have Dulcie grab his arm. “No, you can’t. Gib, please. She doesn’t know.”

  He turned back to her, the woman who’d replaced the girl he’d once loved. Had he ever truly known her, if she’d been capable of this deceit? The Dulcie he’d loved would never have done this to him, never have slid this knife between his ribs. “Haven’t you robbed me of enough time already?” He could see the slap of his words, and he knew that if he stayed, he’d say things he’d regret, terrible, hurtful things. Fragments of what she’d said echoed. I couldn’t ask that of you. I couldn’t give up your child.

  Gib was known in the racing world for his cool head, for never getting rattled, but he was as rattled now as he could remember being only once in his life—the day he’d gotten a short, soul-killing phone call from the woman in front of him, telling him that everything between them had amounted to nothing.

  Fury was blinding him. He had to get out of here—now. He summoned every last bit of control he could manage to keep his voice even. “I can’t talk about this. I have to go.” He strode to the front door, and Dulcie followed him.

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Gib, but please…don’t punish the kids. Is it possible you could—” He heard her struggle to continue. “Would you please just come by to see them a time or two until Christmas is over?”

  Gib struggled not to lash out with the rage he felt. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you’ve taken from me.” He was breathing as hard as if he’d run a marathon. “You have to let me think.”

  She nodded but didn’t speak.

  He opened the screen and paused. “We’re not done yet, Dulcie.”

  “Please, Gib, promise me you won’t tell Torie. Not yet.” She straightened and lifted her downcast head. “We should tell her together.”

  He closed his eyes, then gave her a curt nod.

  And left. As devastated as he’d been fourteen years ago.

  Chapter Five

  Dulcie sat on the sofa all night, unable to sleep, going over and over in her mind the decisions she’d made, ticking on her fingers all the times when she could have turned from this path, could have chosen differently. The occasions on which Gib had missed important parts of Torie’s life he would never get back.

  Finally, about three a.m., dry-eyed and hollow, she sat on the floor with her boxes of photos and began assembling the pale substitute that was all she had to offer him. As she went through box after box, the ache in her heart threatened to consume her whole body. Each picture that usually made her smile was accompanied with a sharp dart of pain that Gib would only know Torie’s history secondhand. That another man had done all that he would have so loved doing for his little girl.

  Gib might have had grand ambitions, and her decision might have paved the way for him to accomplish them, but she had always known that Gib loved children, that he’d wanted a family with her. Where he was now, what he was feeling, all of that tortured her, even as she imagined it torturing him.

  He had every right to be angry. She’d believed she was doing the right thing for him, and a little piece of her was angry, as well, that he wasn’t grateful.

  But she was old enough, experienced enough with human nature now to understand that she should have given him
a chance to make his own decision. She was almost positive that she’d been right, that he would have forsaken his NASCAR dreams, but the extraordinary successes he’d crafted showed that Gib didn’t give up on anything easily. That he tackled the impossible and somehow managed to make it work.

  But could he have done that so many years ago?

  She didn’t see how a family could thrive under the pressures of a NASCAR season, year after year, but there were racing families that continued through generations, so obviously they’d figured out how.

  Oh, Gib. I am so sorry. She mourned for him, for Torie and for herself. Tom had been a good man, but what would it have been like to experience the last thirteen years with the one love of her life?

  Her heart was hollow, and it was Christmastime. Her children deserved better, and somehow she had to summon the strength to make the holiday one they would remember with joy, not the same ache that crowded her chest.

  Dulcie clutched a stack of photos to her chest and prayed for the strength to conquer the despair of a woman who has lost something precious.

  Knowing she had no one to blame but herself.

  Gib couldn’t sleep, and dawn found him sitting in his aunt’s dark kitchen, staring at nothing. Going over and over in his mind, like the drip of acid eating into stone, all that had been stolen from him. Bitterness carved gouges in his heart. She had no right. She should never have—

  Light flared, and he jolted. Blinked like an owl.

  “Gib, honey, what’s wrong?” Aunt Nita asked. “What are you doing up?” She got a better look. “What’s happened? Is it Dulcie? Her children? Somebody hurt or—” His aunt’s fingers crept to her throat.

  “No,” he reassured her. “Well, yes, but—” He shook his head. “Never mind.”

  Her hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he suddenly longed to lean into her embrace and give in to the sorrow that was turning his world dark as he thought of all he had missed of his daughter’s life.

  His daughter.

  “Gib, talk to me. I can see you’re hurting.”