by Cindy Kirk
“Dustin talked to his boss.”
A chill, as frigid as a December north wind, crawled up Faith’s spine. “Dustin spoke with Graham’s boss about him?”
“He did.” Krista’s tone was matter-of-fact and held no apology. “We had hoped to have the advertising solidified before the holidays. We were both disappointed in the presentation. While it would probably be an excellent campaign for some other product, some other client, it wasn’t at all what we were looking for.”
“Then why give him another chance?” The small bit of scone Faith had just consumed now sat like a boulder in the pit of her stomach.
“We hoped Graham could pull this off if he went back to the drawing board.” Krista shrugged. “We really didn’t want to change agencies. We’ve been working with this advertising group for a while and trust them. Besides, being realistic, we weren’t going to find a new firm in a month anyway.”
Faith was consumed with the desire to defend Graham. Though Krista hadn’t attacked him—they were, after all, merely discussing his work—it felt like an attack. But she kept her thoughts to herself.
This was Graham’s career, and the last thing she wanted to do was say something that might make it worse for him.
“I could tell he’s excited about this new campaign.” Faith nearly cringed when she heard the stiffness in her own voice. She fought to come up with a more equitable tone the same way she fought to hold her coffee cup steady. “I hope you’ll like it.”
“The content won’t matter as long as he delivers what Dustin wants.”
The sharp edge underlying Krista’s cryptic words snapped the last thread of Faith’s control.
“It’s obvious you invited me here this morning to tell me something.” Faith met Krista’s gaze and held. “You’ve been dancing around it instead of saying what’s on your mind. We’re friends. That means we can be honest with each other. If there are hard things that need to be said, we say them, straight out. Tell me what has you so tangled up.”
Krista expelled a shaky breath. “Last night, Dustin said we needed to talk and that what he had to say concerned you.”
Without looking down, Krista crumbled a piece of scone between her fingers. “I was confused, like you are now. What could he possibly tell me about you that I didn’t already know?”
Fear slithered like a snake up Faith’s spine. “What did Dustin say?”
“He told me he met with Graham Monday night,” Krista said finally.
“The night you were in St. Johnsbury visiting your friend.”
She nodded. “The night of the storm.”
The night, Faith thought, that she and Graham had made love.
“The discussion turned to Gatlinburg and how much Dustin wants you to accept the offer.”
When Krista paused, Faith nodded to indicate the woman had her full attention.
“Dustin told Graham he would guarantee that Graham would get our advertising account if he convinced you to accept our offer.”
The roaring in Faith’s ears made rational thought difficult, but she bore down hard. She had to get answers. No way was she leaving this cabin without answers. “Are you saying Dustin guaranteed Graham would get the account even if he didn’t come up with a solid proposal?”
“Apparently—and remember, I wasn’t there—Dustin assured Graham we’d work with him until we were satisfied.”
“All he had to do was deliver me…” Faith knew she’d spoken aloud, but the words sounded tinny to her ears, as if they came from far away.
“Yes. All he had to do was get you to sign the contract.”
Faith’s breath came hard. It was as if a vise encircled her chest, making getting air in or out nearly impossible. “Graham agreed?”
Sympathy flooded Krista’s face. “According to Dustin.”
Sagging back against the chair, Faith closed her eyes and fought for control.
“I’m so sorry, Faith.” Krista’s voice pitched high, then cracked. “When Dustin told me, I was furious. How dare he treat you, our friend, like some…like some commodity? He denied that’s what he was doing and insisted he was looking out for what was best for you.”
With great effort, Faith opened her eyes and found herself staring into Krista’s concerned ones. She tried to think of some comforting words, but that well had gone bone-dry.
“By the time we finished our…discussion, Dustin understood he was wrong. He offered to meet with you this morning and apologize.”
Faith thought of facing both of them and shook her head. “I’m glad it’s just you.”
“That’s what I told him.” Krista reached across the table and grasped Faith’s hands, knocking her china cup aside. It wobbled in the saucer before settling. “I’m so angry with my husband.”
“Graham accepted the offer.” Faith voiced the words going around and around in her head. “He agreed to deliver me like a goose on a Christmas platter for thirty pieces of silver.”
“I think the contract is worth a little more than that.” Krista’s teasing tone fell flat.
Despite Krista’s attempt at levity, she looked as miserable as Faith felt.
Krista might have released Faith’s hands, but concern radiated off her in waves. “Did Graham put on the pressure? Is that why you decided to fly to Tennessee?”
Krista wanted details, but Faith couldn’t give them. Right now, she couldn’t honestly remember what Graham had said or not said. There was room for only one thought in her head right now.
Graham had sold her out for a partnership.
Had sex been part of the plan? A way to soften her up so she’d be more susceptible to his suggestions? To his subtle pressure?
Her stomach roiled, and Faith was grateful she’d barely touched the scone.
“I loved him.” Faith gave a choked laugh. “What a joke.”
“I wish this had all never happened.” Krista’s words tumbled out. “If only Dustin hadn’t—”
“I’m glad he did.” Dry-eyed, Faith squared her shoulders. “If he hadn’t, I’d never have known the kind of man I’d fallen in love with.”
* * *
Graham found himself enjoying the gingerbread house competition. He and the girls stood no chance of winning. That was obvious when he looked around the room and saw all the amazing houses.
“Our house needs a gumdrop right here.” With an intense look on her face, Hannah pointed.
“A red one.” Charlotte nodded agreement, then glanced at her father. “What do you think, Daddy?”
“I think you and your sister are building something special. Wherever you decide to place that candy will be absolutely the right spot.”
Charlotte grinned, lifted the red gumdrop and settled it where her sister pointed.
The jingle that sounded each time the front door opened had Graham glancing up. His welcoming smile came swiftly, but just as quickly disappeared.
Faith stood in the doorway to the parlor, her eyes large and dark in her too-pale face. The knowledge that something was deeply wrong had Graham surging to his feet and telling the girls to finish up without him.
He caught Mary’s gaze, and she nodded when he pointed to the girls. They would be in good hands until he figured out what was troubling Faith.
Crossing the room, he held out a hand to her and spoke softly. “What’s wrong?”
Faith took a step back and spoke in equally low tones. “Get your coat. Let’s take a walk.”
Graham didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be right back.”
After sprinting up the stairs, Graham returned moments later with his coat, hat and gloves already on.
He hadn’t expected to see Faith back from Krista’s so soon. Had something happened once she got there? Maybe Krista hadn’t even been there.
So many questions and no answers.
As they stepped onto the porch, a light snow began to fall. Though the steps and walkway had been scooped earlier and a layer of ice melt applied, he automatically reached for Fait
h’s arm. Not only to steady her, but because he wanted to comfort her, to let her know that no matter what was wrong, he was here for her.
She pushed his hand away.
Puzzled, Graham let it drop. Worry now clouded the high he’d been riding since last night when he’d finally gotten the right feel for the campaign.
His talks with Faith and Ginny had made him realize that a sense of community and family were at the heart of Dustin and Krista’s brand.
Once he got that through his thick head, the campaign had come together like a finely tuned watch, each piece fitting perfectly with the other.
Though he was excited to share the presentation specifics with Faith, this wasn’t the time. He waited for her to speak, but two blocks went by, and she hadn’t uttered a word.
“How did your visit with Krista go?” he asked finally, suffocating under the uncomfortable silence.
“Enlightening.”
Graham pondered the response and the bitterness that underscored the single word. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, hunched his shoulders against the wind. “In what way?”
Faith came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the sidewalk.
The spot where they stood provided no break from the stiff wind. Yet, Graham knew the cold he felt had more to do with the ice in Faith’s eyes when her gaze settled on him than the weather.
“Krista told me you and Dustin made a deal.” Faith spat the last word as if it was bitter on her tongue.
“Deal?” Even as he asked, Graham knew.
“The one where you sold me out to the highest bidder.” Her voice was harsh and filled with raw emotion. “Oh, excuse me. Let me be more specific. The deal in which you bartered my future for a partnership. Sweet deal. For you.”
Hurt and anger warred in brown eyes normally filled with warmth and trust.
“I never made any such deal.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You met with Dustin Monday night.”
“Yes, but—”
“He promised that if you got me to agree to go to Gatlinburg, he would accept your advertising campaign. True or false?” The question snapped in the frigid air.
Graham swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “He said we’d work on the campaign until we got it right. But again—”
“Dustin made the offer.” Her words rolled over him, a steamroller on a mission.
“Yes.” Graham held up his gloved hands. “Full disclosure. He—”
“Full disclosure.” Sarcasm dripped from her words. “That would be nice.”
With harsh brown eyes pinning him, Graham understood how a trapped animal felt.
“If you’d let me finish, I can explain.” He pushed out the words as frustration whipped inside him. How could she judge him without giving him a chance to explain? Graham flashed a tight smile. “When you cut me off like you’ve been doing, you make me sound guilty as hell.”
The fact he felt guilty as hell made it hard for him to defend his actions. But it was important that she know he hadn’t sold her out.
“Let me ask you a question.” Her gaze settled on his face. “I want you to be completely honest.”
“Of course.”
“When Dustin made you the offer, what did you say to him?”
Graham expelled a breath. Hope rose. He would explain. She would understand. He had to believe Faith would understand.
“Answer the question.”
Her voice was calm now. Too calm?
Graham thought back to the conversation with Dustin. “I don’t believe I said much of anything. He did most of the talking.”
“When you and Dustin parted ways, did he believe you’d agreed to his offer?”
Graham felt his stomach sink. “I suppose so.”
“Because you listened and didn’t say anything to the contrary, he assumed you’d agreed.” She pressed the point.
“I didn’t agree.”
“Tacit agreement is still agreement.”
“You sound like a lawyer.” Graham tried for a teasing tone.
She didn’t crack a smile. “If someone made me an offer that, say, offended my sensibilities, I would tell them there was no way I would go along with what they were suggesting. ‘Count me out’ was one thing you could have said to Dustin. Or you could have laid it on the line and said, ‘I won’t betray Faith in that way, no matter how much I want that partnership.’”
He sucked in a breath.
“Yes, I know about that, too.” She rubbed a mitten across her forehead as if to erase a headache trying to form. “I loved you, Graham. I trusted you. With my heart and with my body. I even dreamed of us figuring out how to build a life together.”
She stopped on a choked sob, but almost immediately steadied herself. “I was such a fool.”
“You weren’t a fool. And I didn’t betray you.” Graham resisted an almost overpowering urge to pull her to him. “Think back, and you’ll realize I never attempted to push you into anything.”
“It was always all about you, about what you wanted.” With a broad swipe of her gloved hand, she dismissed his plea. “We’re done.”
Brushing past him, she began walking in the direction of the house.
Struck by the finality in her tone, he called after her, panic edging his voice. “If you love me, don’t walk away. We can work through this.”
Faith stopped, turned. Her gaze shifted back to him, but for only a second. When she spoke, her voice was as frosty as her eyes. “Don’t you see that there’s nothing to work through? I won’t be with a man I can’t trust.”
Chapter Twenty
“I’m sorry to hear this news.” Mary’s brow furrowed. “I could tell you were upset when you returned from your walk with Graham.”
After all the events had concluded, Faith had invited her grandmother into her suite of rooms for cider and conversation. She hadn’t seen Graham since he’d helped the girls finish their gingerbread house before heading upstairs.
Though Faith had tried to hide her inner turmoil, apparently she wasn’t successful, because she’d caught Mary’s worried gaze on her several times during the evening.
Her grandmother had been patient, waiting for Faith to settle and to bring up what was troubling her.
Troubling her? Faith nearly laughed at the thought.
Graham’s betrayal had flattened her, slammed into her with the force of a Mack truck.
“The worst part is the twins.” Faith’s heart lurched, recalling how their faces had lit up when they’d seen her. “They were so eager to show me their gingerbread house. I love them, Mary. As if they were my own. It breaks my heart that I won’t ever see them again.”
“I know you love the girls.” Mary sipped her drink. “But it’s what is going on with Graham that’s breaking your heart.”
Closing her eyes against the pain, Faith expelled a ragged breath. “I love him. I wanted to have a relationship with him. How could he have sold me out?”
Which was exactly what he’d done. She remembered the look of guilt on Graham’s face even as he’d attempted to defend himself.
“I imagine it’s difficult to accept he pushed you to accept an offer that might not be in your best interest.” Mary shook her head before picking up her cup.
Faith shifted in her seat. “He didn’t exactly push me to accept the offer.”
Setting down her cup, Mary studied Faith for a long moment. “I’m confused. You told me about the deal he supposedly made with Dustin.”
“There’s no ‘supposedly’ about it,” Faith insisted.
The lines of puzzlement on Mary’s forehead deepened.
“I think he was trying the subtle approach,” Faith explained. “Go in easy, then increase the pressure if I didn’t agree.”
Mary inclined her head. “Do you really think Graham is that devious? It’s certainly hard to reconcile that with the man who’s been living here, helping around the house, doting on his two little girls.”
“It’s difficult for
me to accept, too,” Faith admitted. “But he told me himself that he let Dustin think he’d agreed and would go along.”
“Why did he do that?”
When Faith realized her grandmother was waiting for a response, she shrugged. “No idea.”
Mary took another sip of cider. “What did he say when you asked?”
“I didn’t go there.” Faith waved a dismissive hand. “I’d heard enough.”
“Faith.”
She’d heard that tone before, and her chin jutted up, just like it had when she was twelve. “The last thing I wanted was to listen to him explain away his behavior.”
“You need to talk to him.” Steel underscored Mary’s words. “You have questions. Now it’s time for answers.”
“Are you saying I should forgive him?” Faith blustered.
“I’m saying you need all the facts so you can put the matter to bed in your own head.” Mary’s face softened with sympathy. “Once you have all the information, you can move forward.”
Faith raked a shaky hand through her hair. “I’m tired of drama. I just want to go to my shop, do my work and forget all about Graham Westfall.”
Mary studied Faith. “Are you still considering Dustin and Krista’s proposition?”
“I won’t make my decision until after I visit Gatlinburg.” Faith gazed down into the cup holding her now lukewarm cider. “I have to see the town, make sure I can see myself living there.”
Mary tucked the crocheted afghan more tightly around her. “Who’d have thought your moving here would have led to this opportunity?”
“Do you know what Bryce said?”
If Mary found it odd that Faith’s oldest brother had suddenly made an appearance in the conversation, she didn’t show it. Mary’s eyes went soft the way they always did when anyone spoke of her grandchildren. “What did he say?”
“Bryce sees this as my opportunity to enter the big leagues.” Faith’s lips quirked upward. “He’s decided I’m like him and the rest of the family.”
“You are.”
Faith’s eyebrows shot upward. “I am not.”
Mary smiled. “I admit that from the time you could crawl, my darling Faith, you marched to your own beat. You gave the corporate world a try only because it was important to your parents.”
