On A Cold Winter's Night

by Leanne Burroughs

  "Not mad, just hurt. All this time I thought you cared about us. Now I know you had no intention of committing yourself to this relationship."

  "You could tell all that because of what I said about city people getting bored here?"

  "No, Aaron. It was what you weren't saying. What you really wanted was a way out. Well, I'm giving you your out."

  "You're wrong, Beth. I do care about you and Jena."

  "See? Care not love. Not once have you said the word love to me.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “I want you to stop calling and e-mailing me."

  "Beth, that's not fair. My feelings go really deep."

  "Not deep enough for you to tell me you love me.” But then she wasn't being fair because she hadn't really opened up and told him how much she loved him either. She'd been waiting for him to tell her. Now she was glad she hadn't. Elizabeth reached over and touched the side of his face. “I'll never think of airports the same again."

  The loudspeaker crackled. “All those departing to Atlanta may now board."

  "Beth, don't leave like this. Please."

  "I'm sorry. I have to think of Jena. She's forming an attachment to you and I won't let you break her heart. Here she comes. Please don't say anything more."

  "Hey, Aaron,” Jena said, her eyes sparkling, “I just got top player. Cool, huh?"

  "Yes, that's great. Do you think I could get a hug before you go?"

  "Sure.” Jena threw her arms around him and squeezed tight.

  Aaron looked over her shoulder at Beth with pleading eyes. When she looked away, he let go of Jena.

  "Beth, I'm going to miss you.” Aaron pulled her to him and kissed her mouth before she could stop him. “Please give me a chance.” He whispered in her ear, “I'll miss you more than you'll ever know. Take care."

  Aaron watched them leave to board their flight. In a few seconds they were out of sight. It felt as if someone were pulling his heart out of chest. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe. What had he done?

  The two people he loved more than anything were walking out of his life. There, he said the L word, only it was too late.

  * * * *

  Somehow Elizabeth got through the next few days without Aaron. He'd accepted her decision and hadn't called or e-mailed her, which proved she'd been right in breaking off with him. It had been easy for him to walk away. He didn't love her. She sighed as she looked at the Christmas tree. Now if she could just find the energy to take it down. But she hadn't really had the heart for doing much of anything lately. Tonight was New Year's Eve and again she'd be alone. Well, not completely alone. Jena would be there.

  "Okay, Mom,” Jena said, entering the living room. “What's going on?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You've been really down since we came back from Indiana. And I know Aaron hasn't called you. So what gives?"

  Elizabeth circled the tree, and stopped to gaze at a glass angel ornament. I'd rather not talk about it."

  "Mom, I heard you crying last night. Because of Aaron? I know how much you care about him."

  "We decided it was best not to see each other anymore."

  "What?” Jena rushed to Elizabeth's side. “Mom, that's crazy."

  "Jena, please, this is really none of your business."

  "You're wrong.” Jena took her hand. “If you two got married, he'd be my stepdad, and I happen to think he'd be a great one."

  "It doesn't matter now because his words told me he doesn't care."

  Jena pinned her down. “What exactly did he say?"

  "I mentioned I could really get used to living there at the farm and he said living there would be different than city living. That most city folk get bored on the farm, and he was afraid I would too.” Now that she'd said the words out loud they seemed pretty silly to get mad at him about.

  Jena shook her head letting out a sigh. “Is that all? Mom, he was just feeling you out, to see if you'd agree with him."

  "Even if you're right—which I don't think you are—he hasn't bothered to call. And the man also doesn't know how to say ‘I love you.'” Elizabeth plopped down on the couch.

  "Maybe he doesn't want to say those words because he's afraid you won't believe him."

  "That's silly.” Elizabeth worried her lip.

  "You do have this trust issue. We both do.” Jena shrugged. “Maybe we've been coming off the wrong way to him."

  "I never thought about that. I guess I was too busy blaming him.” Elizabeth let out a sigh.

  "I've made a real mess of things."

  "So, you undo it with a call.” Jena smiled from ear to ear.

  "You know, you're far too smart for your age.” Elizabeth threw her arms around her daughter, hugging her.

  "I come naturally by it. I'm going to go take a shower. Call him now.” Jena bounded from the room.

  "Okay, I will.” Elizabeth picked up her cell phone. She punched in the number and waited. She held her breath while his answering machine responded.

  "This is Aaron Blake. I'm unable to take your call right now. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

  "Aaron, it's me. Can you give me a call? You have my number.” Elizabeth flipped the phone shut and prayed he'd call back.

  * * * *

  The coffee shop at the airport was too crowded, but Aaron didn't care. What he was about to do would be very embarrassing if Beth didn't say yes. But first he had to get her here with the help of one particular person. He dialed the number.

  "Hello."

  "Jena, it's me."

  "Aaron? How come you're calling me instead of Mom?"

  "You're the only one who can help me.” He twirled his drinking straw between thumb and index finger.

  "What do you need my help with?"

  "Do you think you can get your mom to come to the airport?"

  "You're here?"

  "Yes, and I need you to bring her here to meet me at the coffee shop. Can you do that?” He resisted chewing the straw into plastic splinters.

  "Sure, even if I have to drag her to the car."

  "I knew I could depend on you. Thanks, Jena."

  "I'll have her there in a few minutes. See you later.

  * * * *

  "Mom!” Jena yelled.

  Elizabeth rushed to the bottom of the stairs, hand over her heart. “Jena, you scared me to death.” She watched her daughter skip down the steps. “What's wrong?"

  "Aaron just called. We've got to get to the airport."

  "Hold on. Aaron's here?"

  "Yes, and he wants you to meet him in the coffee shop. It's a matter of life or death."

  "He really didn't say that."

  "His words, Mom, so let's go.” She grabbed Elizabeth by the arm.

  "I need to change my clothes."

  "There isn't time. Besides, you look great.” Jena tugged her toward the door.

  Grabbing her purse and car keys, Elizabeth locked the door behind her. “Jena, if this is some kind of a joke, you're in deep trouble."

  "No joke, I promise."

  Elizabeth shook her head, then climbed into the car. What on earth could be life or death for Aaron?

  * * * *

  Aaron sat drumming his fingers on the table. A few of the people had left the coffee shop, but there were still plenty who hadn't. Made for a large audience he hadn't planned on. So what? He didn't care. All he cared about was letting Beth know how important she was to him and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happy. Telling her here at the airport was important because everything between them had begun here. When the automatic doors opened, he stared at the front entrance and swallowed hard. Jena had done it. She was pulling Beth through the door. Suddenly his mouth went dry. He took another swig of coke, almost choking on it. He cleared his throat as they both hurried to him.

  "Beth, I was afraid you wouldn't come."

  "Jena said it was a matter of life or death, so of course I'd show up."

  Aaron shoved a hand through his hair.
“Jena, that was a little extreme, don't you think?"

  "It worked.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop.

  "You mean it wasn't?” Beth scowled at him and then swung her gaze back to her daughter. “You scared me, young lady. This is not at all funny, Jena. We're going home.” She turned to leave. Aaron set a hand on her arm.

  "It's not her fault, Beth. I asked her to do this and she agreed. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we're sorry we tricked you, but I had to get you here. I've missed you so.” He pulled her into his arms and his lips covered hers, trying to convey his love to her. Only seconds of hesitation passed before she kissed him back. His heart soared.

  Before his courage ran out, he had to do what he came here for. He broke off the kiss and pulled out the small box from his coat pocket. His eyes held Beth's as he knelt down on one knee.

  "Aaron, what are you doing?” Her eyes were huge, cheeks flushed. “Everyone is looking at you. At us."

  "If you'll be quiet a minute, you'll find out."

  "Yeah, Mom, listen to the man, please?"

  Beth gaped at him as he raised the box lid to reveal a diamond engagement ring. She gasped. “Aaron! Oh my gosh . . . I never expected—"

  "I've had plenty of time to think since you left me.” He took her hand and slid the ring on her slender finger. “What I've learned is that the farm isn't a very happy place without you and Jena there. I love you, Beth. Will you marry me?"

  Beth stood utterly still. Her eyes filled with tears, and he held his breath for what seemed like hours.

  "Mom, he's waiting. Will you please say something?"

  "Yes, yes, I'll marry you.” Elizabeth pulled him up and threw her arms around him. “I love you, too."

  "Thank God!” Aaron covered her lips in a kiss that claimed her as his. Then he turned around to Jena. “This proposal isn't over yet."

  He moved to Jena and knelt down again. “Your mom once told me that you two were a set, that I couldn't have one without the other. So . . .” He pulled another small box from the other jacket pocket. Inside sat a delicate butterfly ring with diamonds on its wings. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Beth watching him. “Jena, I know you already have a dad, but I'm asking you to give me a chance to also become a part of your life. I don't know how good I'm going to be at being a stepfather, but I'm going to give it all I have. Will you let me be in your life?"

  "That would be so cool.” She held out her hand and he slipped on the ring. “Now we're going to be a family.” Jena looked at her mom, her smile huge. “Sometimes everyone gets a second chance, huh, Mom?"

  "Yes, they do, and that's the greatest gift of all."

  Jena nodded. “It's like that Bible verse you taught me. ‘I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

  "Yes, Jena, God was looking out for us all the time.” Beth blinked back more tears.

  Aaron drew Beth and Jena into his arms. A crowd had formed around them in the coffee shop and all were applauding.

  At the baggage claim area the skycap asked, “Do you have a connecting flight, sir?"

  Aaron winked at Jena. “I've already made my connection."

  Walking arm-in-arm, Aaron left the airport with Beth and Jena, to embark on their private journey . . . as a family.

  * * * *

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Noah's Arch

  * * * *

  Patty Howell

  * * * *

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Patty is a native of Washington, D.C., where she worked many years as a private contract editor for the CIA. She currently resides in Florida with her Australian Cattledog, Jack. She and her late husband (and best friend) of 42 years spent nine years of their early married life living and working in the Far East. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and Romance Writers of America. Her short stories include: No Laughing Matter in No Law Against Love; Muses in the Moonlight in the P.E.A.R.L. nominated Blue Moon Enchantment; and The Patient Gift in Christmas Wishes. Heartfelt appears in Romance Upon A Midnight Clear; Street Manners appears in NLAL 2; Entertaining Angels in Flames of Gold; and Noah's Arch in On A Cold Winter's Night. Love to Last A Lifetime will appear in the upcoming The Miracle of Love anthology.

  * * * *

  You can find Patty on the Web

  www.pattyghowell.com

  * * * *

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  * * * *

  "I'll see him fry for this!” Noah Adams strode to the window, crossed her arms, and stared out. Pedestrians, most under umbrellas, scurried along the busy Allenvale, Pennsylvania, street. Low cloud cover enshrouded the city, hiding from view the surrounding mountainous terrain. The inclement rain-sleet mix resembled tiny pearls against the darkened sky. Predictions for a hard freeze later in the day would soon become reality.

  "Excuse me,” said Chris Barton, her paralegal-cum-assistant. “You're no longer a prosecutor, you're—"

  "And another thing that frosts my b—"

  "I hate to remind you—"

  A swift turn and she pinned him with a stern look. “Oh, Christopher, knock it off. Can't you agree with anything today?” She swallowed the next retort, and softened her face and voice to the young man who'd been working for her the past five years. “I'm sorry. I guess anything involving children just gets to me."

  He nodded. “I totally agree, Noah, but you're forgetting he hasn't been charged with anything. So far it's merely a case of ‘she said’ ‘he said.’ The police haven't taken it seriously, so why are you? And much to your chagrin, and from what you've told me to your father's disappointment, you aren't physically equipped with—"

  "Yeah, yeah . . . I don't need reminding of that. However, I was going to say frosts my butt until I was rudely interrupted.” Why am I taking it seriously? Switching gears, she sank into her butter-soft, blue leather executive chair. “So what do we know so far? Bring me up to speed."

  Chris, seated in front of Noah's desk, grabbed the file on the corner and opened it, quickly perusing its contents. “Suzanne Newman alleges a man stalked her and her five-year-old daughter at the mall. The first encounter occurred as Ms. Newman sifted through a sale rack of dresses. That's when she noticed a man sitting in a nearby chair. She stated in the official report she filed that it didn't occur to her the man was someone she should be concerned with until she heard her daughter's giggle."

  "What specifically does she say he did?"

  "Let me read it. ‘Later, that same man was at the bistro where my daughter and I was having lunch. He didn't finish his meal and was right behind me in the payment line. Then he said something I couldn't make out to my daughter, while the entire time, he looked me up and down as if I was his dessert.’”

  "Not too big on correct grammar, is she? Wonder how she knew he hadn't finished his meal?"

  Chris shrugged and shook his head. “Ms. Newman goes on to state that he gave . . ."—Noah watched his fingers move down the page, and then he looked up at her—"Okay, here it is. Dora, that's the daughter's name . . . he gave her a cursory glance and asked if she knew she was a cute little girl. Says here the child said she knew that and laughed."

  When Chris stopped, Noah eyed him expectantly. “And?"

  "That's it."

  "What? The newspapers had more to say about it than that."

  "Duh . . . They're the dis-slash"—he cut his hand across the air—"misinformation media. You know the spin and hype they give to the most innocuous events. Most journalists quit reporting the news and started editorializing and fictionalizing years ago."

  One edge of Noah's mouth snaked upward in a half-sneer. “That's for sure. Except Cheri Preston. She reports it like it is. So remind me again why we're getting involved in it. Why would she want us to represent her? Is this a civil case?"

  "Oh. I guess I wasn't clear on that point. And regarding Cheri, she can repo
rt it like it is ‘cause it's her newspaper.” He paused.

  She stared at him. “Chris, are you trying to get on my nerves today?"

  He shook his head. “Oh, right. The accused wants us to take the case."

  "The guy! You're kidding?"

  "Nope.” Chris closed the file and stood. “Let me know what you decide, and then I'll give him a call."

  "Did you talk to him directly?"

  "Negative. Elaina took the call."

  She pictured her outspoken, opinionated receptionist/office manager taking the request. If Elaina Holland had read, as Noah had, about the case in the paper this morning, it was a wonder she'd passed along the information. Elaina had full screening rights on new clients. Maybe I should rethink that process.

  Interest in representing some pervert wasn't high on Noah's list of Things-I've-Always-Wanted-To-Do. However, she couldn't outright refuse without hearing his side of the story. Could she?

  "Right. Do we have a name?"

  On his way out the door, Chris stopped and reopened the file. “Archer . . . geez . . . I can't read Elaina's scribbled shorthand here. I'll get back to you on that."

  * * * *

  Had Archer ever seen the woman at the mall before? He didn't think so. And what in the name of all that's holy had obsessed her to interpret his kind overture toward her child as a perverse action? Something had ticked her off and sent her to the cops accusing him of both attempting to lure the little girl outside the store and of stalking her and her daughter around the mall—which definitely hadn't occurred.

  Stopped at a red light, he rubbed the back of his head where a monstrous headache loomed at the base of his skull. No small wonder—he'd been racking his brain trying to sort it all out.

  Archer Webster's assistant, Melinda Matthews, recommended the legal firm of Adams and Adams to represent him. He'd called their office several hours ago, but hadn't heard back from them yet. The woman he had talked to said she'd get back to him before noon. He looked at his watch. Twelve-fifteen. Hmm. Optimistically, he hoped it wasn't an indication of how they normally conducted business.

  He pulled into his office parking lot. If the weather didn't turn as nasty as the Weather Channel indicated, tomorrow morning he was heading for the airport and flying to Florida. After contending with several unexpected early winter snowstorms, and this wretched mix today, he was more than ready to soak up some rays on the white sand beach near his mother's condo in Sarasota. Maybe take in some snorkeling while he was at it. Pressures at work and the present economic situation had patients knocking at his door for help. Consequently, he hadn't had a decent vacation in years—a long weekend at best.