by Pat Warren
Foolish, she chided herself. Her eyes shifted to the window where neither of them had paused to draw the drapes last night. She couldn’t see the clock, but the sky was just lightening with morning. A morning she looked forward to with no small amount of trepidation.
Kate drew in a shaky breath. How would things look to Aaron in the light of day? She felt heat rise in her cheeks as she thought of their night, the way she’d deliberately seduced him. Finally, he’d become a willing participant. More than willing, for he’d taken the lead from her and run with it. She’d fallen asleep in his arms, replete and relaxed, only to be awakened again and again by his renewed desire. Even when she was drowsy, he’d had no trouble coaxing a response from her.
But the day brought reality into sharper focus and regrets back into the picture. Would he feel guilty for being unfaithful to his dead wife? Would he think her too bold for having initiated their lovemaking? Would he be angry with himself that he’d given in to a baser need, overcoming his strong resolve not to become involved again? Kate had no idea, for they’d spoken very little.
Perhaps she was being a ninny, she thought hopefully. Perhaps he’d awaken and smile, pull her into another soul-shattering kiss and want to make love again. Perhaps things would change between them from now on, and Aaron would realize that it was all right to love again, that Stephanie wouldn’t want him to live like a monk for the rest of his days.
Perhaps frogs could grow wings and fly.
Carefully, Kate raised her head from Aaron’s shoulder and crawled out of bed. She stood watching for several seconds, but he didn’t move. With a forlorn sigh, she walked over to pick up the red dress, examining the fateful zipper. She could hardly wear it across the hallway in this condition.
She spotted Aaron’s dress shirt and held it up to herself. The tail hung past her knees. She’d take a quick shower, put on her underwear and his shirt and then scan the hallway before dashing across. It would be far easier to face him later over the breakfast table than across their rumpled bed.
In the bathroom, Kate turned the water on to steaming. She felt a little achy, but it was a good kind of soreness, the sort that came with using muscles too long dormant. Before the mist covered the mirror, she studied her face and saw swollen lips and eyes that held a certain satisfaction. She smiled at her reflection. The night had been wonderful, and she had no regrets. If she had to live with only the memory, so be it.
Opening the door to the shower stall, Kate tested the temperature, then stepped in. The heat felt good, and she tilted her head into the spray. She was reaching for the soap when suddenly the door was jerked open. “Oh!” she cried out, surprised at the intrusion.
Aaron stood there wearing only a scowl, his big hands jammed on his slim hips. “Young lady, I want you to answer just one question,” he demanded, his voice stern.
Kate placed a protective hand to her breasts, her heart suddenly thundering. It was all over—their tenuous relationship, her job, being with Jamie. All gone because of an impulse. She’d taken a gamble and lost. “What?” she managed to say.
“I want the truth.” Then Aaron’s expression shifted from mock anger to a sensual smile as he stepped into the shower stall, closing the door behind him and gathering her into his arms. “Did you deliberately break that zipper?”
She nearly sagged with relief but managed an answering smile. “A smart woman never reveals her secrets.”
“I thought as much.” His hungry eyes shifted to her lips, and he bent his head to kiss her, the spray pouring down on both of them.
The water was nearly cold when they finally left the stall.
“I’ll Be Home for Christmas” was playing on the stereo on Christmas Eve as Kate hung a lovely old ornament near the top of the huge tree Aaron had put up in the family room, taking advantage of its vaulted ceilings. The lights were strung, the star glimmering on top and Jamie fast asleep. They’d waited until now to decorate the tree, anxious to surprise the baby.
She listened to the sentimental lyrics of the song and sighed. Home, she thought. A word that evoked such deep meanings in people, especially around the holidays.
She had vague memories of Christmases past on the farm at Frankenmuth with her birth parents and Michael and Hannah. She’d told Aaron the story the weekend they’d spent in Detroit at the Woodward Arms, and he’d asked if she’d ever tried to locate her brother and sister. When she’d said she hadn’t, he suggested that perhaps they could look into it after the first of the year. It had warmed her heart knowing that he wanted to help her.
From the box on the table, she picked up another antique ornament, this one shaped like a delicate teapot, given to Aaron by his father when he’d been a child. Kate’s adoptive parents had given her special ornaments several Christmases, but when Uncle Tom had hustled her out of the house in Grosse Pointe, which had been her home for eighteen years, she’d had to leave so many treasured mementos behind. He’d told her she could come back later for them, but when she’d called to ask, he’d sloughed her off with one excuse after another.
Perhaps it was time she stood up to Tom Spencer, as well. Just knowing that Aaron wanted her had given Kate a certain confidence she’d been lacking. Certainly, he hadn’t mentioned love or spoken of a future together. Maybe he never would. But he’d been affectionate and loving with her ever since that first night they’d spent together. For now, Kate was contented with that.
She wasn’t sure if she could get anywhere with Tom, for he had a great deal of wealth now and many connections. Perhaps if he realized she wasn’t after money but rather things that rightfully belonged to her, gifts and the like, he’d relent. Yes, she thought, placing the teapot in a prominent place, she’d also look into that after the first of the year.
Aaron climbed down from the stepladder he’d been using to hang ornaments near the top of the fourteen-foot tree and paused, gazing up. “Jamie’s eyes are going to light up brighter than this tree tomorrow,” he commented.
“I can hardly wait until morning when we bring her down.” Kate found a miniature church complete with steeple in the same box of ornaments. “These are just beautiful.”
Aaron walked over to join her. “My grandmother gave that whole box to Dad, and he handed them to me when I built this house. She was a special lady.” He reached to take the church from Kate, memories crowding in on him. So many Christmases that his father had tried to make special for him and Johnny after their mother had left, with help from his own parents. His grandmother had taken them to see Santa, shopped with them to pick out their gift for Dad, then come over to bake cookies alongside Fitz. There’d been love in the home despite the absence of one parent.
Which was what he intended to give Jamie.
“It’s great that you have memories of your grandmother. I scarcely recall mine, even though she lived with us for a while.”
The story of how Kate had been removed from her home, losing contact with her mother and siblings, at the tender age of six had moved him deeply. That, along with the injustice of what Tom Spencer had done to her, seemed enough to make anyone bitter. Yet Kate wasn’t. Only there was a sadness about her when she spoke of the past.
He stepped to her side and slipped an arm around her. Despite his resolve, he had trouble keeping his hands off her. “Let’s not think about the past. We can’t change our memories, but we don’t have to dwell on them.” He certainly didn’t want to think about last Christmas, which had been Stephanie’s last. “Let’s concentrate instead on Jamie’s first Christmas.”
Kate smiled in agreement. “Speaking of that, how are we going to keep her from untrimming the tree? I’ve tried to put all the more delicate ornaments near the top, but she’s a busy little explorer.”
“We’ll just have to keep an eye on her. Fitz will help. She’ll be back day after tomorrow.” Aaron bent to retrieve a small box he’d placed under the tree earlier. “You’re going to think I’m as impatient as a child, but I’d like to give this to you tonig
ht.” Dad would be over tomorrow, and Stephanie’s parents usually drove down from Bay City, where they lived, weather permitting. He didn’t want any of them speculating, so he thought it best to do this privately.
Kate backed up to the couch and sat down holding the small wrapped package that gave every impression of being a jeweler’s box. Surely not. They’d achieved a certain intimacy over the past two weeks, but this was the man who’d pointedly and repeatedly said he was through with marriage.
“Well, open it,” Aaron prompted.
There were many other things that could be inside, Kate told herself as she ripped off the pretty wrappings. Yes, it was a jeweler’s box. Heart thudding, she opened the lid. Nestled inside was a lovely pair of pearl earrings. “They’re beautiful,” she said, silently aware of her disappointment and hoping Aaron was too occupied to see.
“I’ve noticed the pearl necklace you wear, and the ring, so 1 thought you might like these.”
“I love them. Thank you.” That’s what she got for being premature. Not even that, for what she longed for was never to be. She needed to give up the idea of permanence with Aaron, Kate lectured herself. He’d made that abundantly clear. Never once, not even in the heat of passion, had he slipped and made even the slightest reference to love or a future together.
It was just that, there for a minute…
“Well,” Kate said, recovering well, she thought as she reached for the slim wrapped gift she’d placed under the tree earlier, “mine isn’t nearly as grand, I’m afraid.” She handed him the package. “But I did make it myself.”
“I don’t know when you’d have time to make anything, considering that Jamie’s naps get shorter every week,” he said, removing the wrapping. Inside the box was a scarf in shades of gray and blue and made of the softest wool he’d ever touched. “Kate, this is lovely.” He turned to her. “Dad always told us that a gift someone makes is far more valuable than one anyone can buy. Thank you.” He leaned closer to kiss her.
A touch of his lips on hers—that’s all it took, and Kate instantly wanted more. His mouth lingered, savoring, and she gave herself over to the kiss.
Never could he get enough of this, Aaron thought as he set the gift and box aside and pulled her into his arms. He was becoming addicted to Kate, to her special flavors, to all she could make him feel. He’d have to do something about that, and soon.
But not tonight.
Forgetting the unfinished tree, Aaron gathered her into his arms and carried her upstairs to his room.
I am nervous, so very nervous. My thoughts are a jumble of hope and fear.
The search for my children has gone on for years now. For a while, I was afraid that Sloan would try to convince me to give up, would tell me that the hunt is fruitless and futile. I should have known better, known that the man I love is not a quitter.
I would get so discouraged, and it was Sloan who would tell me to keep the faith, that one day we would all be together, he and I, Christopher and Emily, Michael, Hannah and Kate. They are not with us yet, but at last, we have another avenue open to us.
Sloan heard of a television program that solves mysteries and reunites separated families. It was worth a try, we thought, so he wrote to the producers and told them the story of our long search. Much to my surprise and delight, they invited us to visit them in Los Angeles, where the series is filmed. We did and had several meetings with them. They agreed to air our plea.
It was fantastic. They took down all that I told them, then set up a reenactment using actors, showing how I was taken to the tuberculosis sanitarium from my farm home in Frankenmuth after Lance’s death and how Child Protective Services picked up my three children and separated them, and how when I was released two years later, I could find no trace of my little ones. Watching my story unfold brought tears to my eyes all over again.
Then it was my turn, and the host of the show called me to him so they could film me asking anyone who might know where the Richards children were today to telephone the studio. They rehearsed me a little, but mostly, I told my story from the heart. I tried to stay composed, but it wasn’t easy. I prayed that my children, wherever they were, might even see the show, or someone they knew would tell them about it and they’d call.
With tears in my eyes and hands trembling, I joined Sloan on the sidelines after the filming. “They’ll call,” he told me. “Wait and see, they’ll call you now.”
I pray he is right.
Chapter Ten
“I swear I think she knows that Santa paid us a visit last night,” Aaron said, carrying Jamie downstairs at seven on Christmas morning.
“She must have. She usually doesn’t wake up this early, not when it’s still dark out.” Tying the belt of her new green robe, Kate followed them down, smiling at Jamie, who was laughing at her over her father’s shoulder. The baby was wearing a miniature version of Kate’s robe, both made by Fitz. Fitz had told them when they’d opened their gifts yesterday morning just before she’d left for her daughter’s home, that she’d chosen the color so they could wear green on Christmas morning.
The robe Aaron was wearing was the masculine version in red, only because, Fitz had said, she’d heard that red was a lucky color and it went so well with Aaron’s coloring. It surely did, Kate thought as they walked toward the family room. But then, what color didn’t? Even unshaved, his hair straight from their bed and not combed as neatly as it usually was, he was so very handsome. Perhaps not to everyone, Kate thought, but seen through the eyes of love, he was gorgeous.
So in love, she thought. She was madly, hopelessly, irretrievably in love with Aaron. Sharing his room when Fitz was gone, making love with him, going to sleep in his arms and waking up feeling cherished with his hand in hers—it was everything she’d ever dreamed a love should be. Today, she would not spoil it by negative thoughts or fears of the future. Maybe, for once, the gods would smile on all of them, and things would work out so that little Jamie could have both a mother and father.
“What do you think, Jamie?” Aaron asked after setting her down and turning on the tree lights.
The little girl appeared awestruck, her brown eyes huge as she stared at this enormous foreign object right inside her home. The many strings of lights started to blink and wink after warming up. Mesmerized, Jamie watched. Then she looked up at Kate beside her and clapped her hands, laughing out loud.
“I guess she likes it,” Aaron decided.
“I’d say so. Why don’t I put on a pot of coffee for us and get her some juice and a handful of cereal to nibble on? That should tide her over until breakfast.”
“Great. Meanwhile, we’ll decide which of your presents to open first, right, Jamie?” He took her hand and moved closer to the tree, then crouched down beside her. “Shall we start with that big red box with the striped bow?”
In the kitchen making coffee, Kate realized she had a smile on her face, one she hadn’t consciously put there. It was from happiness, sheer happiness that had her feeling like smiling. This would be her best Christmas yet; she was certain of it.
By nine, the family room looked as if a tornado had whirled through. Wrappings and ribbons were scattered every which way, empty coffee cups sat on end tables, cereal had spilled on the carpet and “Rudolph” was playing in the background on the stereo. Aaron had built a fire just because the occasion seemed to call for one. Then he’d sat by the tree with his daughter to help her with the large wooden pieces of a puzzle that she’d selected from numerous other toys, including a new doll complete with small crib, a tricycle and a huge stuffed bear.
“No, sweetie, not in the mouth. Put it here in the circle.” He checked the puzzle board. “This one may be a little advanced for her age. I probably should have waited.” He looked up at Kate seated on the hearth, her hair backlit from the fire like a gold cloud around her shoulders, her face clear of makeup, her eyes warm on his. She was so lovely that he lost his train of thought.
“What?” Kate asked, frowning as he
kept staring. “I can’t have lipstick on my teeth since I’m not wearing any. What is it?”
“You’re very beautiful,” he said softly. “Did you know that?”
Taken aback, she anchored a lock of hair behind her ear. “No one’s ever said so.”
It was Aaron’s turn to frown. “Are you serious?”
How could she explain that she’d been raised in a household where her adoptive mother welcomed no comparisons? “Let’s talk about something else. There’s a package still under the tree. Why don’t you help Jamie open it?”
He studied her as she pointed out the gift. She brushed off praise regularly and seemed not to believe him whenever he complimented her. He wondered why she was so self-effacing.
While Jamie, who’d lost interest in the puzzle, began examining a pull toy that consisted of several quacking ducks, he did as Kate asked and opened the last package. He found a soft angora hat, scarf and mittens for Jamie. “They’re lovely. I’ll bet you made them, right?”
“Yes. I hope the hat fits her.”
“Maybe later, we’ll put them on her and take her for a ride on her new sled.” He’d found one with a seat and a strap designed for little children.
“I’d like that.”
Aaron could no longer resist. He rose to his knees and leaned toward her for a very long, very thorough kiss. Just as he let go, he heard the doorbell chiming. “A little early for visitors,” he grumbled as he stood, checking the time on the mantel clock. “Probably someone looking for directions. I’ll get rid of ‘em and help you with breakfast.”
Whistling, he walked to the front and opened the door.
“Aaron, I see we’ve surprised you,” Todd Crandall said, shifting the packages in his arms to shake hands in his usual robust manner.
