by Lisa Jackson
“Besides,” Lindsay prodded, climbing into Kimberly’s lap, “I want you to open my package.”
“And I want to wait until tomorrow morning.”
“Please . . .”
“Okay,” Kimberly replied, not having the heart to disappoint her.
Lindsay retrieved the huge package, and Kimberly pulled off the paper. Inside was a large birdhouse made from scraps of lumber nailed together. The house could hold six nests. “Lyle and I made it,” Lindsay said proudly.
“And it’s beautiful,” Kimberly whispered, admiring it. “You’re quite a carpenter.”
“I know,” Lindsay replied solemnly.
“Thank you very much.” She kissed Lindsay’s crown.
“Now, can I open one?”
Kimberly sighed. “Just one.”
Lindsay hurled herself back under the tree, found a package and tore open a holiday puzzle. “I like it! I do! I do!” She beamed at her mother. “Now, your turn again.”
“Oh, no.”
“Just one more.”
“I can’t. Really.”
Lindsay nodded. “Open Jake’s!”
“Jake’s?” Kimberly’s insides turned cold. “There isn’t a present from Jake.”
“Oh, yes, there is!” Lindsay said, scrambling off Kimberly’s lap and reaching into the thick branches of the Christmas tree. She hunted a while and withdrew a small box wrapped in silver foil.
“When did this get here?”
Lindsay shrugged. “A long time ago.”
“How long?”
“When we heard the singers in the park,” Lindsay said, forcing it into her hands.
Kimberly’s chest constricted. She didn’t want to think about Jake—nor about his present. “I don’t think I should open it.”
“It’s okay. He told me that it had to be a secret until Christmas Eve. And that’s now!”
“So it is,” Kimberly said, fingering the card while her heart pounded. She opened the envelope, and her throat constricted with tears. “To Kimberly, a woman who has brought happiness and light to my life. I’ll love you forever. This was my mother’s. No one has ever worn it since she gave it to me.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered, remembering all the ugly words she’d said. Taking in a deep breath, she untied the small red ribbon and split open the foil. The shiny paper gave way to a tiny jewelry box, and as Kimberly lifted the lid, she felt tears building behind her eyes. There, on a faded cushion of red velvet, was an antique ring. A diamond sparkled brightly in the box.
“Oooh!” Lindsay cried. “It’s beautiful.”
“That it is,” Kimberly admitted, feeling awful. Had she judged Jake too harshly? If he’d left the ring before the ordeal with Robert, didn’t that mean that he loved her? She had to find out. Stuffing the ring and box in her pocket, she jumped to her feet.
“Come on, Lindsay, we’ve got work to do.”
“But I want to open a present—”
“When we get home.” Kimberly found her daughter’s coat, boots, mittens and hat. Then, retrieving her coat, she herded Lindsay out the door.
“Where’re we going?” Lindsay asked.
“You’ll see.” Kimberly strapped Lindsay into her car seat, then slid behind the wheel. Tonight, she decided, she’d have it out with Jake. Once and for all. She’d crawl back on her hands and knees to find out if he’d really meant it when he’d said that he loved her. If so, she’d be the happiest woman on the earth. If not . . . She shuddered.
She wheeled into the parking lot of her favorite mall and smiled when she saw that the store was still open. “Come on, Lindsay. You’re going to enjoy this. I guarantee it.”
* * *
Jake whirled his drink, glanced in the mirror and growled, “Merry Christmas,” at his reflection. He’d spent the better part of the week trying to forget it was Christmas, that he’d hoped to marry Kimberly Bennett and that his life was empty. He’d failed on every count. Losing Lupus had hurt horribly; losing Kimberly had been a deathblow.
He threw the remains of his drink in the fire, snagged his leather jacket off the back of his couch and started for the door. He was going to have it out with her once and for all. And this time, dammit, he’d force her to believe just how much he loved her.
The doorbell chimed, and he swore. He wasn’t in the mood for carolers, shining faces or Christmas cheer. Scowling, he yanked open the door and there, standing in the middle of the porch, was Lindsay, her blue eyes shining, her hair in two lopsided pigtails. She was carrying a box that was nearly as big as she was.
“Merry Christmas!” she sang out.
Jake’s heart lurched almost painfully. “Hi!” he said, filled with wonder that this little girl could burrow so deep in his soul.
“Hi.”
“Come in, come in.” He stood outside of the door, letting her pass. “Your mom with you?”
“Mm-hmm.” She set the box on the floor in front of the fire, and Jake was sure it moved, but his attention was diverted when Kimberly, dressed in her familiar black coat, swept into the room.
“Merry Christmas,” she said breezily, her eyes deep with mischief, her mahogany-colored hair swirling behind her in a tangled red-brown cloud.
“Well, I guess we saved you a trip.” She swung her coat off, and Lindsay giggled, not for a minute leaving the huge box.
To his surprise Kimberly sauntered up, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard.
Jake couldn’t help but respond. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’d like to ask you what’s going on, but I’m afraid to disturb the fantasy.”
Winking broadly, she plucked a sprig of mistletoe from her pocket. “This guy I know convinced me that mistletoe didn’t need to be hung.”
“A wise man,” Jake drawled.
“And I wanted to thank you for my Christmas present.”
He grinned, then glanced over to Lindsay. “I thought I said Christmas morning.”
“I couldn’t wait,” Lindsay said.
“And neither could I.” Kimberly slid out of his arms and tugged on his hand. “Lindsay and I went shopping tonight . . . for you. And we hope you like what we got. We had trouble deciding on the color.”
Jake eyed the box suspiciously. “You want me to open it now?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe we should wait ’til morning.”
Kimberly laughed merrily. “Oh, I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“All right,” he agreed, untying the big green bow and lifting the lid. As he did, an excited yip escaped, and a bright-eyed black puppy leaped up and washed his face with its long pink tongue.
“Hey, slow down,” Jake cried, but the pup, a lab-shepherd mix, Jake guessed, jumped on him ecstatically.
Lindsay clapped in joy. “He’s perfect, isn’t he?”
“Perfect,” Jake agreed, smiling as the puppy made three mad dashes around the room and finally landed on Lindsay’s belly. The little girl screamed and laughed, her giggles rising to the ceiling. “In fact I think we’ll name him that.”
“What—Perfect?” Kimberly asked.
Lindsay shook her head. “I like Snowball better.”
“But he’s black,” Kimberly said, laughing.
“Doesn’t matter,” Lindsay argued.
Jake grinned, staring at Kimberly. Her blue-green eyes were bright, and as she stood near the fireplace, she seemed to fill his house with a warmth and happiness that had been missing for a long, long time. God, how he loved her. It was frightening, yet caused his spirits to soar.
Winking seductively at him, she cocked her head toward the backyard and turned to her daughter. “Come on, Lindsay, let’s see if Perfect or Snowball or Perfect Snowball needs to go outside.” She helped her daughter back into her coat, mittens and boots.
Jake opened the back door, and the puppy shot through, straining against the leash and pulling Lindsay outside. Jake and Kimberly followed.
The night was quiet. Th
e ghost of a moon dusted the snow-covered ground with the pale light, and beyond the yard the dark waters of the lake lapped quietly. Kimberly took hold of his hand. “I guess I owe you an apology,” she said, taking in a deep breath. “I said awful things to you.”
“You were upset.”
“And I was wrong.” Tilting her chin up, she stared at him with wide eyes. “I love you, Jake. I have for a long time. I came here because I want to marry you.”
Jake felt the corners of his lips twist. His heart thudded, and love surged through his veins. “Is this a proposal?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her breath misting in the cold winter air. She took his face between her mittened hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Jake’s lips twisted cynically. “You know, I think maybe I should be asking.”
“So, ask already,” she teased.
“Will you marry me?”
“Only if we can have a Christmas wedding.”
“But that’s—”
“Tomorrow.”
“You think you can find a preacher on such short notice?”
Kimberly giggled. “It just so happens that Arlene has connections with a little church. The preacher is a personal friend of hers. I bet I could get her to twist his arm. The only problem will be Diane. She’ll kill us both if we get married while she’s not around.”
“I guess that’s just a chance we’ll have to take,” Jake said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her long and hard.
Lindsay and the puppy dashed by, powdery snow flying, giggles and sharp barking filling the clear night air.
“I love you,” Jake whispered against her hair, “and if you think I’m waiting until tomorrow to start the honeymoon, guess again.”
Kimberly tossed back her hair. Her expression turned impish as she reached into her pocket. “No reason to wait,” she said, holding up the sprig of mistletoe. “As far as I’m concerned, tonight is the first night of our life together.”
“Then let’s make it count.”
“I’m all yours, counselor.”
“And I’m yours. Forever.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be long enough,” she teased, and was rewarded with a kiss that promised her a lifetime of love. In the distance, from across the lake, she heard the sound of Christmas bells ringing, sending clear notes into the wintry air as Jake lifted her off her feet and carried her back inside their home.
DOUBLE EXPOSURE
PROLOGUE
Taylor’s Crossing, Oregon
The wipers slapped the snow away and the windshield fogged with the cold, but Melanie Walker barely noticed. She drove by rote, unseeing as the miles from the clinic downtown slipped beneath the old truck’s tires.
One of her favorite songs was playing on the radio, fighting a losing war with static, but she didn’t concentrate on the melody. She couldn’t. Her mind wouldn’t focus on anything but Gavin and the last time she’d seen him, three weeks before.
His naked body had been the only heat in the hayloft, and his legs and arms had been entwined with hers. The smell of musty hay and animals had filled the air.
“Wait for me, Melanie,” he’d whispered against the curve of her neck. His breath had been as warm as a summer wind, his tawny eyes seductive in the half-light of the barn. “Say you’ll wait for me.”
“You know I will,” she had foolishly vowed, unaware that fate was against her. At the time she’d known only that she loved him with all of her young heart. And that was all that mattered.
Until today.
She swallowed a hard lump in her throat and shoved the gearshift into third. Her rendezvous with Gavin had taken place three weeks ago and she hadn’t seen him since. And now, all their plans and her entire future had changed.
As she drove through the snow-packed roads, she forced her wobbling chin up and clamped hard on her teeth. She wasn’t going to cry, no matter what.
Gavin was over a thousand miles away, chasing a dream, and she was alone in a small Oregon town—two months pregnant.
Her hands clenched over the wheel as she struggled with the right words to explain to her father that she was carrying Gavin Doel’s child.
Snowflakes drifted from a gray sky and melted against the windshield as the pickup rumbled along the slippery highway. To the west, the town of Taylor’s Crossing nearly bordered Walker land. To the east, fields and pine forest covered the foothills of the Cascades.
Melanie snapped off the radio and glanced into the rear-view mirror. Worried hazel eyes stared back at her.
Pregnant. Unmarried. And seventeen. Even in the cold, her hands began to sweat.
The fact that her father had let Melanie see Gavin had been a miracle. He despised Gavin’s father, and heaven only knew why he’d allowed Melanie to go out with “that kid from the wrong side of town,” the boy who had the misfortune of being Jim Doel’s son.
“Help me,” she whispered, feeling entirely alone and knowing she had no option but to tell her father the truth.
If only Gavin were still here, she thought selfishly, then whispered to herself, “You can handle this, Melanie. You have to!”
She shifted down and turned into the short lane near the house. The truck slid to a halt.
All Melanie’s newfound convictions died on her tongue when she saw her father, axe propped over one shoulder, trudging through the snow toward the barn. The pup, Sassafras, bounded at his heels.
Hearing the rumble of the pickup’s engine, Adam Walker turned and grinned. He yanked his baseball cap from his head and tipped it her way, exposing his receding hairline to the elements.
Melanie’s mouth went dry. She cut the engine, pocketed the keys and sent up a silent prayer for strength. As she opened the truck’s door, a blast of chill winter wind swirled inside. “It’s now or never,” she told herself, and wished she could choose never.
Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her fleece-lined jacket, she plowed through a blanket of snow. Four inches of powder covered the frozen ground of the small ranch—the ranch that had been her home for as long as she could remember. Though the town of Taylor’s Crossing was steadily encroaching, her father had refused to sell—even after his wife’s death.
Melanie shivered from the vague memory of losing her mother—and the sorry reasons behind Brenda Walker’s death. Her father still held Jim Doel responsible.
Oh, Lord, why did it seem that her entire life had been tangled up with the Doels?
“I’d about given up on you.” Her father squared his favorite old Dodgers cap back onto his head, then brushed the snow from the shoulders of his jean jacket.
Melanie wanted to die.
“Go into the house and warm up some coffee. I’ll be back as soon as I feed the stock and split a little kindling.” Whistling, he turned and started for the barn.
“Dad?” Her voice sounded tiny.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to have a baby.”
Time seemed to stand still. The wind, raw with the breath of winter, soughed through the pines and cut through her suede jacket. Her father stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face her again. His jaw dropped, and denial crept over his strong features.
“You’re pregnant?” he whispered.
Nodding, Melanie wrapped her arms around her middle.
“No!”
She shifted from one foot to the other and tried to ignore the sudden bow in her father’s shoulders. All expression left his face, and he looked older than his forty-seven years. His throat worked and his brown gaze drilled into hers. “Doel?” he asked in a voice barely audible over the wind.
She nodded, listening to the painful drum of her heart.
His face turned white. “Oh—Mellie.”
“Dad—”
“That black-hearted son of a bitch!” he suddenly growled, wincing as if physically wounded. The small lines around his mouth turned white.
Melanie didn’t have to be reminded of the hatred that still
simmered between the two families. And she hadn’t meant to fall in love with Jim Doel’s son. But Gavin, with his warm eyes, enigmatic smile, lean, athletic body and razor-sharp wit, had been irresistible. She’d fallen head-over-heels in love with him. And she’d thought, foolishly perhaps, that the love they shared would bridge the painful gap between their families—the gap that had been created by that horrible accident.
“You’re sure about this?” her father whispered, his gloved fingers opening and closing over the smooth wood of the axe handle.
“I saw the doctor this afternoon.”
“Jesus Christ!” Adam’s teeth clenched. He took up the axe and swung it hard into the gnarly bark of a huge ponderosa pine. “He’s just like his old man!” An angry flush crept up his neck, and he muttered an oath under his breath. Kicking the toe of his boot into the base of the tree, he grappled with his rage. “I should never have let you see him—never have listened to that stupid brother of mine!” he raged. “But your damned uncle convinced me that if I’d forbidden it, you’d have started sneaking behind my back!”
“Dad, I love Gavin—”
“Love? Love! You’re only seventeen!” he bellowed, placing both hands on the fence. He breathed deeply, as he always did when he tried to regain his composure. His breath fogged in the air. “I don’t have to tell you about the pain Jim Doel has caused this family.” His face twisted in agony, and he leaned heavily against the tree.
“I—I know.”
“He’s a bastard, Mellie, a drunken, useless—” His voice cracked.
“Gavin’s not like his father!”
“Cut from the same cloth.”
“No—I mean, Dad, I love him. I—I want to marry him.”
“Oh, God.” Setting his jaw, he said more quietly, “And Gavin—how does he feel?”
“He loves me, too.”
Snorting, Adam Walker ran a shaky hand over his lip. “He only loves one thing, Melanie, and that’s skiing. Downhill racing’s his ticket out of Taylor’s Crossing and believe me, he’s going to use it to stay away.”
Melanie’s heart wrenched. Some of what her father was saying was true—she’d told herself that the death-defying runs down the face of a rugged mountain were and always would be Gavin’s first love, his mistress—but she didn’t want to believe it.
