That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics)

by Debbie Macomber

  He jammed the cigarette into the ashtray with unnecessary force. “I suppose you’re waiting for some humble apology—”

  “No,” she interrupted him abruptly. “I’m not. There’s very little I expect from you anymore.”

  A faint shadow of regret and uncertainty was revealed in his expression as he followed her out of the kitchen.

  She paused in the hallway outside their bedroom. Her things had been haphazardly thrown across the mattress in the guest bedroom. In the room she shared with Grady, the dresser drawers were left open and dangling, a testimony to their argument a few hours before. Where should she sleep? Should she make a pretense of going into the other room and waiting for Grady to stop her? Would he? Should she cling to the last vestige of her pride and march into the other guest bedroom?

  As if he understood her dilemma, Grady stopped a few feet behind her and said, “Maybe it would be better for all concerned if you slept in the other room.”

  Cathy swallowed the horrible pain that blocked her throat. Even breathing became difficult.

  “That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” The question came at her harshly. “You’re the one who wanted out.”

  Pride directed her actions. “Yes, I did,” she murmured sadly, and entered the room, softly closing the door. She stood there for several moments, fighting the urge to throw away her pride, rush to Grady, and demand to know what had happened—what had gone wrong with them. Instead, she strode to the bed and began making neat piles of clothes on the floor so she would have a place to sleep.

  Sleep. Her lip curled up in a self-derisive movement. What chance was there with Grady across the hall? He may well have been on the other side of the world for all the good it did her. She rolled over, hoping to find a more comfortable position on the lumpy mattress. If she lay still, she could hear Grady’s movements from the room opposite hers. Was he even half as miserable as she was? Did he long for her the way she yearned for the comfort of his arms? Did he care about this marriage? How much longer could they continue with this tension between them? Questions seemed to come at her from all sides. But Cathy found no answers.

  * * *

  “You look awful.”

  Linda’s observation flustered Cathy as she poured herself a cup of coffee in the teachers’ lounge early the next morning. “I’m okay.” She brushed off her friend’s concern and added a teaspoon of sugar to the coffee, hoping something sweet would give her the fortitude to make it through the first class.

  “Things aren’t right with you and Grady, are they?”

  Linda never had been one to skirt around a subject. If she had something on her mind, she said it.

  “No, they’re not,” Cathy replied truthfully, and set her mug on the circular table.

  “Why?”

  Cathy rested her hand over the top of her mug; the steam generated heat that burned her palm. “I don’t know.” Tears just beneath the surface welled in the dark depth of her gray eyes. “I just don’t know.” She hung her head, unwilling for Linda to see the ever-ready flow of emotion.

  “Then find out.” Linda made everything sound so simple, so basic.

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” The sound of Cathy’s voice fluctuated drastically. “I’d give anything to know what’s wrong between us. Grady’s pulling away from me more and more every day. I hardly see him anymore and … and we aren’t even sleeping together. The crazy thing is”—she stopped and took in a quivering breath—“I haven’t the foggiest idea why.”

  “Talk to him, for heaven’s sake,” Linda suggested, as if it was the most logical thing to do. “You can’t go on like this, Cath. You’re so pale now, your face is ashen, and you’ve lost weight.”

  “It isn’t that easy,” Cathy snapped in a waspish tone, then immediately regretted the small display of temper. Linda was only trying to help. There had never been a time in Cathy’s life when she felt she needed a friend more.

  “I’m sure it isn’t,” Linda agreed in a sober voice. “But nothing worthwhile ever is. What you need is some time together alone.”

  “But there’s Angela.” Several times in the past weeks the opportunity had come to confront Grady, but Angela had always been present. Although she dearly loved the child, Cathy didn’t feel she should air their differences in front of her.

  “I’ll take Angela,” Linda offered.

  Cathy looked up, surprised.

  “No, I mean it. I’ve been wanting Katy and Angela to see more of each other, I’d like for the girls to become good friends. I’ll pick her up after school, and that way when Grady gets home you two will be alone and can talk this thing out without an audience.”

  “Oh, Linda, would you?”

  “What are friends for?” she asked with a warm smile.

  Cathy’s spirits lifted immediately. This was what she and Grady needed. Whatever had happened, whatever she’d done, the air would finally be cleared.

  Not until that afternoon when Cathy was sitting at her desk contemplating the confrontation with Grady did she consider that the change in his personality might not be because of their relationship. Maybe something was wrong with Alaska Cargo. Certainly something as traumatic as his business would account for the personality switch. More than that, Grady was unlikely to confide in her if he was experiencing troubles with his company.

  Linda picked up Angela at the house a few minutes before five, and Cathy stood in the driveway, waving, as the car pulled onto the street. Two brown heads bobbed up and down from the backseat, and Cathy smiled at her friend’s eagerness to be indoctrinated into the delights of motherhood.

  Releasing a sigh, Cathy looked around her. The sun was shining and the sky was that fantastic blue, blue she had marveled at when first moving to Alaska. The day held promise, more promise than she had felt in a long time.

  Ugly Arnie tangled with her feet as she came in the door, and she stooped to pet his short fur. “How is it a handsome fellow like you got stuck with a name like Ugly Arnie?” She giggled and stopped midstep, aghast at the sound. She had laughed! Cathy couldn’t remember how long ago it had been since she had found something amusing.

  Glancing at her watch, she noted that it could be long hours before Grady arrived home. He was flying into Anchorage for supplies. She’d overheard him telling Angela as much that morning. If there was something wrong with the business, there was only one person she knew who would tell her. Ray.

  Without questioning the wisdom of her actions, she drove to the field. Ray walked out of the hangar, a look of surprise furrowing his brow as he advanced toward her.

  “Howdy, Ray.” Her voice was carried with the wind. It whipped at her hair, tossing the long tendrils across her face. She pulled the strands free from her cheek with an index finger. “Grady’s not around, is he?”

  Ray shook his head, wiping his hands on the ever-present rag that hung from his back hip pocket. “Nope, he’s in the air.”

  “Good.” She laughed at Ray’s expression. “It’s you I want to talk to.”

  “Me?” The older man looked ever more astonished.

  “Don’t suppose you have any of that stuff you call coffee around?”

  “Put a fresh pot on only yesterday,” he teased, with a roguish grin. “Let’s go in the office; we’re not as likely to be disturbed there.”

  Cathy followed him, and Ray stepped aside in a gentlemanly gesture, allowing her to precede him into the office. Glancing around her, a smile touched the edges of her mouth. The room never seemed to change. The same newspapers littered the worn chairs, the ashtray was just as full, and the counter just as crowded.

  “Here.” Ray handed her a white foam cup filled with steaming coffee.

  Cathy blew into the liquid before taking a tentative sip, then grimaced at the bitter taste. Grady claimed all the hair on his chest was due to Ray’s coffee. One sip and she didn’t doubt the statement.

  Ray pulled out a chair for her to sit down as he leaned against the counter, his hand cupping
the mug.

  “I want to talk to you about Grady,” Cathy said, her eyes nervously avoiding his.

  “To be truthful,” Ray replied, “I’d like to ask you a few things, too.”

  “You would?” Her head shot up.

  “Grady ain’t been himself lately.”

  “I know,” Cathy said with a sigh. “Ray, I’m worried. I thought it might be something at the office.”

  The mechanic’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I assumed it was something at home.”

  “You mean you don’t know what’s wrong, either?” Her voice was filled with disappointment.

  The thin shoulders lifted with a shrug. “After you were first married, Grady seemed more content than I can remember him being in a long time. He even hired a couple extra men to take on some of the flying he used to do so that he could spend more time at home. Several days he’d come into work whistling, happy as I’ve ever seen him. Then suddenly”—he paused and snapped his fingers—“everything changed.”

  “But what?” she cried out softly.

  Sadly, Ray shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. But I don’t mind telling you, I’m plenty concerned. He’s going to kill himself if he doesn’t let up soon.”

  A feeling of utter helplessness washed over her.

  “You love him, don’t you?” The question was more a statement of fact.

  “Oh yes,” she said, and breathed, “very much.”

  Satisfied, Ray nodded. “Then things will work out, don’t you fret.”

  * * *

  Later, as Cathy pulled into the driveway, she felt reassured by Ray’s attitude. Ugly Arnie scampered to the front door and jumped against her pant legs in greeting. “Come on, boy,” she instructed, not bothering to remove her coat. She strode into the spare room and immediately returned her things to the master bedroom where they belonged. It took far longer to cart her things back than it had to remove them the night before. Hands resting on her hips, she surveyed the room once everything had been transported. With a satisfied smile, she released a small breath.

  The phone rang, and she hurried into the kitchen.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi.” It was Linda. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “No, Grady’s not home yet. Is something wrong?”

  “Not really, but Angela forgot her suitcase and she was wondering if you would bring it over. I’ve assured her several times that she can wear Katy’s pajamas tonight, but apparently the suitcase contains some irreplaceable treasures.”

  Cathy smiled. “I’ll bring it right away.” They spoke for a few minutes longer before Cathy replaced the receiver.

  The suitcase was on top of Angela’s bed, and Cathy couldn’t contain the amusement that softly edged up her mouth. It looked as if Angela had packed everything she owned. Opening the clasp, she viewed enough clothes for a three-week vacation, plus several stuffed animals and the child’s favorite books.

  Hauling the suitcase into the living room, Cathy turned at the unexpected sound. Grady stood poised in the kitchen doorway.

  Her gray eyes blinked at the tall, dejected figure. He looked more defeated than she had ever seen him, his shoulders hunched as if he was carrying the heaviest of burdens.

  Held motionless by the agony in his eyes, Cathy inhaled a sharp breath, watching the color drain out of his face. What was wrong? She followed his gaze, which rested on the suitcase in her hand, then stared back into his bloodless features. He thinks I’m leaving him, she thought miserably.

  A half-sob broke through the paralysis that gripped her throat. He thinks I’m running away. An eternity passed, and still she couldn’t pull her eyes from him. Tears clouded her vision, and for the first time Cathy realized how useless the situation was between them. Things had gone too far, and there was nothing she could do to save this marriage.

  Every step was agony as she turned around and walked across the room.

  “Don’t go.”

  Cathy stopped, her face incredulous. “What did you say?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grady continued to stare at her, his eyes dark and haunted. He ran a weary hand over his face and looked away. “Don’t leave me.”

  Did he think she was playing games with him the way Pam had done, packing her things, threatening to leave?

  “Why?” The question was bitter.

  “I need you.” He sounded gruff, almost defensive. “I know how much you love Steve, but—”

  “Steve!” she cried, dropping the suitcase. “How can you think I want Steve when I’m in love with you?”

  The dark, tortured eyes deepened, followed by a short, bitter laugh. “Cathy, don’t lie to me,” he murmured, in a hoarse whisper.

  “Lie?” The muscles of her throat were constricting so tightly that she could barely swallow. “I love you so much that if you push me out of your life any further, I think I’ll die.”

  Disbelief drove creases into his brow. “But I love you.” The words were issued in an aching whisper as he advanced a step into the room.

  Cathy didn’t need any encouragement to meet him halfway. She walked into his arms, knowing how much the words had cost him. Grady’s arm closed around her so fiercely that she couldn’t breathe. Not that it mattered when he told her of his love.

  His breathing was ragged and uneven as he buried his face in her hair, and she felt him shudder against her. For a long, breathless moment he did nothing more than hold her. Never had Cathy felt such peace, such contentment.

  His kiss was filled with so much need that the single meeting of their lips was enough to erase all the pain and uncertainty of the past month.

  “I need you,” he breathed into her hair. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. I thought we could marry and I’d remain detached from any emotional commitment.”

  Her hands reached to his face, gently caressing the proud line of his jaw. “I love you so much, how could you have doubted?”

  Grady broke the embrace and took several short steps before pivoting back to her. “We’d only seen each other a couple of times before I guessed that you’d been deeply hurt by another man. It didn’t take much longer to realize you were still in love with him.” He paused and ran his fingers through the curly hair at the side of his head. “I think I almost preferred it that way. You had a relationship you were trying to forget, and so did I.”

  “But the past is over,” she whispered. “I confess I thought I was in love with Steve when we married. But I wasn’t. Not until the night Peterkins died did I realize that I couldn’t love Steve when I was in love with you.”

  She saw the look of surprise that flashed over his features, and moved to his side, lifting her lips to his lean jaw.

  He cupped her face with his hands, his thumb tracing her lips, his mouth following.

  With her arm wrapped around his waist, Cathy laid her head on his chest and heard the rapid, staccato beat of his heart.

  “That was the first night you initiated our lovemaking,” he whispered against her hair.

  “There’ll be more times,” she promised, with a contented smile. “You were so tender, so gentle that night, almost as if my pain were your own.”

  “It was.” His breath stirred the hairs at the crown of her head. “I knew how much you cared about Peterkins. I also knew that Steve had given you the dog. Getting a puppy so soon afterward wasn’t a brilliant idea, but when I saw the way you looked at Arnie …”

  “Ugly Arnie,” she corrected.

  “Ugly Arnie,” he repeated, a smile evident in his voice. “I realized then that you would probably never get over loving Steve.”

  “But you’re wrong,” she said, almost desperately. “Peterkins was separate from Steve. I was so afraid you would misconstrue that. You left for the office that day, and I knew my reaction to Ugly Arnie had hurt you. I was angry with myself when later I realized it was at that point that you drew away from me.”

  �
�That wasn’t it.” His hold on her relaxed, and she heard the deep, uneven breath he expelled. “When I got to the office that day, a letter from Steve was waiting for me.”

  Shock jerked her head back as she stared at Grady. “A letter from Steve? Why?”

  Gently, he kissed her forehead. “He reminded me that you were in love with him. It seemed so logical, especially after the scene that afternoon with the puppy and you telling Angela that when a person loves someone it takes a long time to forget that person.”

  “But, Grady,” she said in a determined tone, “I was referring to the dog, not Steve.”

  Tight-lipped, he nodded. “But at the time I didn’t doubt the truth of his statement. Steve said that if I had any deep feelings for you, then I would see the truth and would set you free.”

  “No,” she gasped, and tightened her arms around his middle.

  “Steve told me what had happened and how he’d gotten caught in a chain of events that led to the wedding with your sister. He explained how things got so involved and tangled to the point that he couldn’t back out of the marriage. He said it was the same thing that had happened with us.”

  “But, Grady, that’s not true. You know it,” she whispered emphatically. “You were there at the hotel room; you gave me the choice.”

  “But I knew when you came to me you loved Steve. The letter made so much sense. The man admitted what a terrible mistake he made in marrying MaryAnne. But he realized what he’d done and loved and needed you. He begged me, Cathy, he begged me to set you free. A man doesn’t do that kind of thing lightly. He loves you.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” she contradicted forcefully. “If Steve had really cared for me he would never have married my sister.”

  Grady’s look was hard, resolute. “I didn’t expect to love you. After the letter arrived I knew I should probably do the noble thing and send you to Steve. I guess these past weeks I was attempting to drive you away. Then today one look at you with that suitcase and I knew if you left a part of me would die. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love another human being. You’ve brought happiness and joy into my life and Angela’s.”