by Brenda Novak
“I’ve been worried.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said. “You’ve got your girls at home.”
“They’re not the only ones who matter to me.”
Ignoring that statement, she turned on her heel and marched to the house. “It’s late and I’m really tired. Would you mind if we talked another time? It’s been a…rough night.”
“I know,” he said. “I should give you some space. But…can I at least apologize?”
“For what? You wanted to win, and I was in the way. I understand.”
“Adelaide—”
Raising a hand to stop him, she donned a polite mask. “Look, I don’t blame you. If I were in your shoes, maybe I would’ve done the same thing. I mean, the object of any campaign is to win. Mark was… Mark was a cheat and a liar, and everything you’ve ever said about him is probably true.”
“I don’t care about that. I didn’t come over here to rub your nose in what he’s done.”
“Why not? Enjoy it while it lasts. This was quite the political coup.” She knew she was being harsher than she had a right to be. But she’d been wrong when they’d talked about the baby—she couldn’t be open to any of the options he’d named. They required too much trust, and trust was something she didn’t have anymore.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. “So you’re blowing me off?”
“It won’t work.”
“What about the baby?”
“You get the senate seat. I get the baby.” Stepping inside, she closed the door behind her.
* * *
Maxim was still standing on Adelaide’s stoop when the porch light went off. He didn’t know whether to bang on the door or leave. Memories of the time they’d spent in the mountains, especially of that second night when they’d said so much without saying a word, made him want to insist she come back and talk to him. But he couldn’t force her to let him into her life if she didn’t want him there. He’d been crazy to think she did. It was Mark she’d always loved, Mark she still loved, even though the stupid son of a bitch had been a complete fraud. Mark had never deserved her.
But maybe Maxim didn’t deserve her, either.
Thinking of his girls waiting patiently for him at home, he released a long sigh and walked back to his car. He’d been so excited about having Megan and Callie meet Adelaide. Then Harvey had ruined it all.
The radio came on as soon as he started his car and Elvis Presley began singing, “I’ll have a blue Christmas without you—”
Quickly changing the station, Maxim backed out of the driveway.
* * *
As she watched Maxim’s headlights swing out into the street, Adelaide felt like crying. But she choked back her tears. She’d done the right thing. Despite all the years they’d been acquainted, she didn’t know Maxim, not really. Maybe he was no better than Mark.
“Getting with me was just another way to protect his political aspirations,” she said. But all the things she remembered him saying to her when they were together seemed to dispute that statement. I can’t pretend to be Mark again. If I make love to you, it’ll be because you want me… We’re talking about a baby, Adelaide. Our baby. My career doesn’t come before that… You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on….
Had he meant any of it? It’d felt real. Unlike Mark, Maxim didn’t use flattery. He only said what he meant. That was why she’d been upset enough to run against him. He’d told some reporter that Mark had been worse for the district than if it had gone unrepresented, that he’d been one of the most selfish individuals on the planet.
And, as she’d just told him, he’d been right. Why was she blaming him for being right?
The message light blinked on her answering machine. Seeing it, she realized she’d forgotten to turn her cell phone back on after the church service. Ruby was probably going crazy with worry.
Trying to put Maxim out of her mind, she crossed the room and pressed the play button. Sure enough, her friend had called a number of times. Adelaide was about to stop the playback without listening to the rest. She was one touch of a button away from erasing the whole thing when she heard a voice she hadn’t heard in a long time—the voice of her former mother-in-law.
“Adelaide? Are you okay? What’s going on? Maxim Donahue just called here. Can you believe it? At midnight on Christmas Eve? We don’t even know him. I mean, we’ve met but never really talked. He was looking for you. Only now I’m thinking he must’ve been drunk, because when I asked him why he wanted to find you he said…he said he was in love with you. And then he hung up. That’s it. Isn’t that crazy? He’s the man you’re running against, isn’t he? The one who never liked Mark? Anyway, give us a call. We’d like to see you this Christmas. You haven’t swung by in a while.”
Another message from Ruby came on right afterward. “Damn it, Adelaide, this isn’t fair. Why the hell won’t you pick up?”
Adelaide scarcely heard it. As she hit the stop button, her mother-in-law’s message was still playing in her mind: He said he was in love with you.
Was it true? Would Maxim really have come right out and said that to Mark’s parents?
Stunned, Adelaide slowly sank onto the sofa. Was she being as smart as she assumed? Or was she letting Mark ruin what she had with Maxim the same way he’d ruined the last few years of their marriage?
Her hand shaking, she reached into her purse, got her phone and turned it on. She’d missed eighteen calls from Maxim. Why would he spend his whole Christmas Eve trying to reach her if he didn’t really care? He couldn’t have been doing it simply to neutralize the opposition. The scandal that had broken tonight would cripple her campaign; he wouldn’t have to worry about her even if she did keep running.
He said he was in love with you.
Her eyes welled up with tears as she dialed his number. She didn’t really expect him to answer. Not after what she’d said to him at the door. But he did.
“Hello?”
“Maxim?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry. I—” Her voice broke but she battled through it. “I think I’m just scared.”
“I’m not like Mark, Adelaide,” he said. “You can count on me.”
Recalling the way he’d hauled her out of that Cessna and made her dig that snow cave, Adelaide smiled. He was right. She could count on him.
“Will you come back?” she asked hopefully.
“Are you kidding? I turned around the second I saw it was you. I’m already pulling into your driveway.”
Tossing her phone aside, Adelaide hurried to the door—and rushed into his arms as he came up the walk.
“Thank God,” she said. “I thought I’d lost you.”
EPILOGUE
As Adelaide finished arranging the last of the presents under the tree, she could hardly believe an entire year had passed since she’d been stranded in the Sierras. So much had changed since then—she’d dropped out of the race, gotten married, had a baby. But she didn’t regret those changes; they’d all been good. She didn’t even regret that Maxim was still in politics. Not only had he won the primary, he’d retained his seat in the November election, but the way he handled his job was so different from Mark.
“What are you thinking about?”
She smiled as Maxim walked into the room carrying Connor, their three-month-old. “How close we came to walking away from each other last year.”
“We didn’t come that close,” he said.
She arched her eyebrows at him and he grinned.
“I was in love. I wouldn’t have let you get rid of me that easily.”
Returning his smile, she adjusted the garland on the tree. “Do you think Harvey ever regrets what he did?”
“I would guess he does. He loved California politics. I’m sur
e he wasn’t happy when there wasn’t another politician in the state who’d work with him.”
“You have to be able to trust your campaign manager,” she said. “It was nice of Luke not to hire him. He could’ve justified doing it, you know.”
“No, Luke’s a good man. He didn’t appreciate what Harvey did, even though Harvey returned my money.” He held up his son and laughed when the baby gave him a goofy smile. “I’ve been encouraging Luke to run for the state assembly.”
“That’s a great idea.” She reached for the baby. “Here, hand him to me and grab his car seat. We need to head to the airport to get the girls.”
Maxim checked his watch. “You’re kidding, right? We’ve got an hour.”
The wait was making Adelaide crazy. “Maybe they’ll get in early.”
“And maybe we’ll have to drive around that pickup circle a million times until they show up.”
“Come on.” She waved him toward the baby’s car seat, which was sitting near the sofa. “I can’t wait to see them. And I know they can’t wait to see the baby.”
“They just saw him at Thanksgiving.”
“But he changes so fast. And they love having a little brother.”
“They love having a mother again, too,” he said softly. “Thank you for being so good to them.”
Adelaide didn’t even have to try. They enriched her life as much as Maxim or Connor. “I never dreamed I could ever be this happy,” she said.
He raised her chin to kiss her. “And I never dreamed I could ever be this much in love. Merry Christmas, Mrs. Donahue.”
Adelaide closed her eyes as their lips met. She had everything she could ever want, thanks to one snowy Christmas…
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, don’t miss Brenda Novak’s upcoming, pulse-pounding novel,
BEFORE WE WERE STRANGERS
Available soon from MIRA Books. Keep reading for a sneak peek!
CHAPTER 1
Bayside Cemetery
Queens, New York
As far back as Sloane McBride could remember, she’d been told she was an ice-queen. Even the people closest to her, especially the people closest to her, complained about her reserve. Her height, her physical appearance and her vocation didn’t make her any more approachable, so what served her well professionally worked against her personally. She heard people mutter words like “stuck up,” “aloof” or “distant”—and knew they were referring to her. No one seemed to understand that she hadn’t chosen to be standoffish. That was simply a byproduct of what she’d been through.
She never talked about what she’d been through, however. If she could help it, she tried not to even think about her childhood.
But she’d always known she’d have to go back to the small Texas town where she’d been raised eventually. And now that Clyde was gone, she didn’t feel as though she could continue running from the past. When she lost him, she’d lost her emotional safe haven here in the Hamptons, her excuse for remaining in New York. “God, I’m going to miss you,” she whispered and squatted as gracefully as she could in her black dress and heels to rearrange some of the flowers decorating his grave. Everyone who’d known him had lost a friend, and his funeral, which had packed the church to overflowing, proved it. But no one would feel the loss of his presence more than she would. He’d taken her under his wing from almost the first moment they met, when she was barely eighteen, and he’d never tried to change her, never criticized her, either. He’d just accepted her for who she was. Whenever she withdrew from one of his many parties, he’d often come find her, but he wouldn’t drag her back to the crowd she’d left. He’d simply squeeze her hand and say, “What are you thinking about?”
Sometimes she’d tell him and sometimes she wouldn’t, but he never pressed her, regardless. That was one of the things she’d loved about him. He’d say, “Still waters run deep” or something else that gave her permission to be comfortable in her own skin, and then he’d return to his other friends, where he would continue to talk and laugh until late in the night—simply winking at her if she happened to come into the room again.
She wasn’t ready to leave the cemetery, to leave him. Forever was much too long a walk to take without him. But his five children and their spouses—those who had spouses, anyway—stood nearby, whispering amongst themselves under the pavilion, and she guessed from their expressions they were growing disgruntled by the fact that she was lingering so long. They’d never approved of her relationship with their father. At the funeral, she’d heard Camille, the youngest, murmur to a family friend, “They had to have been sleeping together. He was so devoted to her. I got the impression he loved her as much as me or any of the rest of us children.”
“Of course they were sleeping together,” the friend had agreed.
Sloane had been tempted to inform them otherwise. Instead, she’d slid her sunglasses up higher on the bridge of her nose and tried to ignore them along with all the other people who were, no doubt, speculating about the same thing. Chances were they wouldn’t believe her even if she told them, but she hadn’t been the younger woman trying to take advantage of the rich, older man. Yes, there had been twenty years between her and Clyde and, yes, they’d been very close. But Sloane had never slept with him. He’d never even hinted at any romantic interest. He’d been her friend, her confidant, her mentor, her modeling agent and even her landlord. She’d been living in the small cottage behind his mansion ever since he’d talked her into walking out of that coffee shop in Portland where she’d been working when he’d come to town for his ex-wife’s funeral. But he’d never been Sloane’s lover.
The size of the lump in her throat threatened to choke her as she straightened. But she had a lot to do, couldn’t focus on the loss or the pain. She’d survived thus far in life by always looking forward, never back, and the next few days would be busy. She had to pack up her belongings and move. Clyde’s estate would go to his heirs, the same group of people who were waiting for her to leave. They’d given her notice months ago that they planned to put the place up for sale as soon as he died.
She gripped her purse a bit tighter with her left hand while turning so that she could wave with her right. Facing Clyde’s family even for that brief moment wasn’t easy. She could feel the gale-force wind of their disapproval pressing her back, threatening to blow her right out of the cemetery.
Only a couple of them bothered to acknowledge her in return. Even then, the responses were half-hearted.
Doesn’t matter, she told herself. Clyde had loved them, which meant she’d always treat them kindly. She’d also abide by their wishes regarding the house. Even though she’d earned plenty of money since coming to New York and had tried to talk him out of it, Clyde had left her part of his vast fortune. Not nearly as much as each of his kids but some. That was probably the reason they seemed to hate her even more since he died, but she was going to accept his gift just as he’d wanted her to. He’d said he was grateful for the hours of thoughtful conversation she’d provided over the years, the scuba diving trips they’d taken together to Hawaii, the atolls of the Maldives and Australia, the late-night laughter and all the hard things she’d had to do in order to care for him over the past fourteen months, while he battled bladder cancer. None of his children had been able to help for longer than a couple of hours here and there. They were too busy with their own lives. They’d suggested hiring a nurse, but Sloane had refused to leave his care to a stranger in case he’d feel as if, now that he was no longer able-bodied, he was to be cast aside while the rest of the world moved on. To avoid that, she’d given up her career. She’d hated knowing that his days were numbered, had wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. She probably wouldn’t have worked for much longer, anyway. Modeling wasn’t any fun without him. He was so good at shepherding her from one pinnacle in the high-fashion world to the next, she couldn’t imagine continuing with someone else, co
uldn’t bring herself to replace him. It was his intervention that had pulled her out of her desperate circumstances in the very beginning and had given her some semblance of a life—a life, as it turned out, that many people now envied. Representing brands like Prada, Gucci and Dolce & Gabbana certainly sparkled on the outside. Sloane was grateful for what she’d achieved, but in this moment, it felt as though that chapter of her life—the New York chapter—had come to a close with Clyde’s death.
So she’d decided, finally, to close the chapter she never had—the Millcreek chapter. The one that she’d run away from so many years ago. She owed it to her mother.
And who could say? Maybe Sloane’s instincts had been wrong all along. Maybe she owed it to her father and brother to find the truth, too, and dispel all suspicion.
Her phone rang as she climbed into her Jaguar. Caller ID revealed a Texas area code.
She frowned as she stared down at it.
It had to be her new landlord. Other than Paige Patterson—Paige Evans now—her closest friend from high school who’d reconnected with her last year on social media, her landlord was the only person who knew she was returning to town.
Her finger hovered over the answer button. Just thinking about going back to Millcreek twisted her stomach into knots. Was she ready to return?
No, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel ready, and she doubted there would be a better time to do battle with her father. She’d come to a natural break in her career. She had the financial wherewithal to be able to live without an income. And, thanks to the strength she’d received from Clyde’s unwavering support, she now had the determination to finally achieve the answers she sought—no matter what it meant.
At least she hoped she had the determination. Her father had trained her and her older brother to believe that loyalty mattered above all else—even truth. Would she be able to cross him?
After drawing a deep breath, she answered. “Hello?”
“Ms. McBride?”
“Yes?” In the distance, she could see Clyde’s family gathering around his grave as though they’d been waiting for her to leave so they could approach.
