She wasn’t the only one who felt nurtured and secure. Brock reveled in the knowledge that he was a changed man. He felt new and different inside. For the first time in his life, he understood what had made Todd so special. Step by step, he tested himself, letting go of one thing after another. Praying silently before he made decisions. Reading the big Bible Pierre had given him. Putting Mara and Abby ahead of himself. Thinking about their needs before his own.
This new life felt strange and awkward at times. But Brock had no doubt he had done the right thing. He wanted to be different, whole, complete. And he was.
Unwilling to tell Mara until he felt sure he could follow through on his decision, he basked in the beauty of quiet time spent with this woman God somehow had seen fit to allow into his life. Their hours of cooking in the kitchen or watching the snow fall outside the window were a tonic to him. If the years of his lonely childhood had caused Brock to build a wall around himself, Mara’s presence gently removed brick after brick.
On impulse, they decided to host a New Year’s Eve gathering to introduce some of their friends to each other. Mara phoned Sherry and two of the teachers she had worked with at the academy. Brock invited Joe, Travis, Stephanie and a couple of others from the Las Cruces crowd. Everyone was encouraged to stay the night at the ranch house rather than drive back to the city on the dark, snowy highway. Brock dismissed Pierre and the housekeepers to spend the holiday with their families.
While preparing hors d’oeuvres the afternoon of the party, Brock couldn’t keep his eyes off Mara. Dressed in jeans, a blue T-shirt and a pair of white sneakers, she again was the young girl he had met with Todd years before. She laughed and teased him, her eyes sparkling in fun as she hurried around the kitchen clinking pots and stirring saucepans.
“We should have asked Pierre to do all this, you know,” she said, her fingers deep in a bowl of mushroom stuffing. “I’ll bet he knows how to use shoestring carrots to tie asparagus in neat little bundles.”
Brock gave a mock scowl at the sight of his own large fingers working to remove the tiny, soft mushroom stems. “I still don’t see what was wrong with my idea. Red string licorice and green peas—it even goes with the holiday season.”
Mara laughed. “I suppose you’d have us put this stuffing into chocolate cupcakes?”
“Easier than pulling the stems off these little mushrooms.”
She giggled. “Those caps are starting to look more like pancakes, Brock.”
“Oh, yeah?” He held up a small brown mushroom, its delicate edges hopelessly split. “Wait’ll I put the stuffing in.”
“You’d better do it right, or else,” she said, starting across the room.
He caught her around the waist and swung her toward him. “Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Woman, I’d do just about anything you asked me to,” he said, his voice dropping. Her lips tilted toward his, and he brushed a kiss across her mouth. Before he knew it, he had pulled her into his arms.
If they hadn’t been expecting company, Brock might have lost what slender control he had left. As it was, he remembered Sherry was due any minute to help them get ready. Lifting up an urgent prayer, he let Mara go almost as fast as he had grabbed her. She stood before him, flushed and breathless, and it was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms again. As he hesitated, Mara whirled on her heel, announced she had to nurse Abby and change clothes for the party, and half ran out of the kitchen.
Busying himself with stuffing the mushrooms and arranging slices of cold meats on a silver tray, Brock spent the next half hour trying to push images of Mara out of his mind. Impossible. It was all fine and dandy to pray before he acted, to tread carefully, to avoid mistakes. But how long could this go on? He wanted Mara as his wife. He wanted to make their union permanent. Holy.
But where did Mara stand on this? On Christmas morning she had taken off her wedding ring, but had she really accepted Todd’s death? And what did she want with Brock? Was she testing him? If so, she was doing a great job. As he wedged a rolled slice of beef between two rolls of ham, Brock frowned. This waiting was becoming intolerable.
“Did you remember to buy the eggnog, Brock?” Mara asked as she re-entered the kitchen. “I didn’t see it in the refrigerator.”
He glanced up, and once again he was thrown a curve by the sight of this woman who had miraculously come into his life. Dressed in a black skirt and a matching black top, Mara had left her blond hair hanging long and loose. Her legs were sheathed in sheer black stockings and velvet high heels. The faint fragrance of a spicy perfume drifted across the room. He grabbed the back of a kitchen chair for support.
“Brock?” she said. “Did you hear me? I asked about the eggnog.”
“It’s chilling,” he replied.
“I hope we have enough of these sausage balls.” She pulled open the oven door and bent to look inside. The hem of her skirt swished against her knees. Brock gave up holding on to the chair and sat down in it.
“And these sausages,” she said, turning to the crockery pot filled with tiny barbecued links. “If they don’t stay hot, they won’t be any good.”
“I’m no good,” he mumbled.
Mara swung around. “What?”
“Nothing.”
She smiled. “Brock, would you light the candles in the dining room, please?”
He’d have crawled across the dunes at White Sands if she’d asked.
Brock went through the rest of the evening like a zombie on automatic pilot. Guests arrived. He dipped out eggnog, listened to jokes, made polite conversation. All he could think about was Mara.
She drifted through the clusters of visitors, her black outfit making mesmerizing shadows in his brain. Mara’s hair sifted and draped around her shoulders. Her long legs transfixed him with every step.
If Brock hadn’t told himself a thousand times he was incapable of it, he would have been sure he had fallen in love with her. He wanted her—definitely. Wanted a lifetime with her. But love? Brock Barnett? No, he didn’t have it in him.
Did he?
Mara spent most of the evening apart from Brock as she tended to the guests. He felt he was in a Christmas Eve party rerun. Mara talked for a long time with her friend Sherry. She introduced Sherry to Stephanie, and they seemed to hit it off. Mara moved constantly in and out of the kitchen, carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres or filling bowls with nuts. As midnight approached, she slipped through the crowded room to Brock’s side, a shy smile tilting the corners of her pink lips.
“Having fun?” she whispered.
“Now I am.” He slipped his arm around her shoulder.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six.” As everyone joined in the countdown, he folded her into his embrace.
“Five, four, three, two.” He turned her toward him and cradled her head in his hands, tilting her chin upward.
“One…Happy New Year!”
As cheers went up and confetti drifted down, he kissed her lips. Her arms slid around him, holding him close. If he could have pulled away, he might have tried. He didn’t have a prayer.
“Mara,” he murmured against her lips, “we’ve got to talk. I mean it.”
Around them cheers turned to laughter. Music rose in volume. Someone brushed past them. Brock was lost in Mara’s arms. And then there was a strange hush.
“Mara?” Brock recognized Sherry’s voice.
Catching her breath, Mara pulled away from him. “Oh…is…is anyone going to…uh…refill the eggnog? Well, I guess I should do that.”
“Mara?” Sherry repeated.
Brock looked around the room and quickly figured out that he and Mara had unknowingly become the center of attention with their New Year’s kiss. Just as the silence was about to become awkward, Brock’s friend Joe lifted his glass and shouted, “To the newlyweds!”
“To the newlyweds,” the other guests echoed, laughing.
“Did you check the eggnog supply, Sherry?” Mara asked quickly.
“I’ll see what’s left in the refrigerator.”
Turning away from Brock without a backward look, she hurried across the room, her heels clicking on the hardwood.
What now? he wondered.
Mara had never been so embarrassed in her life. She could feel her cheeks flaming as she fled into the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door. She had been smooching Brock like some teenager at a high school party. Sherry had seen. Everyone had seen.
“Mara?” Sherry seemed to be able to say nothing else.
“What?” Mara exclaimed, yanking out an eggnog carton and slamming the refrigerator door. “Do you have something to say?”
“I just…well, Mara…I mean, you and Brock…”
“Listen, Sherry, I’m going to check on Abby. It’s past time for her to wake up. Say good night to everyone for me, will you?”
Without waiting for Sherry to agree to the request, Mara left the kitchen and made her way down the long, dimly lit hall. Oh, she was a fool for the man’s kisses. And she’d made an absolute idiot of herself in front of their friends.
She had been so careful to see that no one thought the marriage was anything more than a business arrangement. She had assured herself it was nothing more. But how could anyone believe that after what they had just seen? How could she believe it herself?
Sure enough, Abby was wailing in the nursery. The intercom that broadcast the baby’s hungry cries had been drowned out by the party noise. Flooded with guilt, Mara picked up the hot, damp bundle and cuddled her for a moment until Abby’s shrieks softened to piteous sobs of relief.
Mara quickly changed the baby’s diaper and pulled a fresh nightgown over her tiny head. She half fell into the rocking chair and pulled up her satin blouse. In moments, Abby’s contented nursing reminded her that other things in the world were much more important than an impulsive, wayward kiss in front of friends.
All the same, as Mara put her drowsy baby back into the crib twenty minutes later, she wondered if she should go back to the party and find Brock. Maybe it would be appropriate simply to let everyone know that things had changed between her and Brock. Maybe she should smile confidently and tell them that she…that he…
That they what? She didn’t know what to say. As she walked across the room, Mara gave up the hope of explaining herself. She didn’t know what she meant to Brock Barnett, and she was afraid to admit what he had come to mean to her.
But when she stepped into her room, Mara realized she was going to have to come up with something. Sherry sat in the chair by Mara’s bed, her shoes kicked to the floor and her feet curled under her. Her eyes were inquisitive as she rested her chin on her hand.
“Is Abby okay?” she asked.
“She was ravenous, but now she’s gone back to sleep. So, is the party over?” Mara hoped her voice sounded light. “I thought Abby was going to nurse forever. I guess everyone’s gone to bed, haven’t they?”
“What’s going on, Mar?” Sherry caught Mara’s hand as she passed. “Come on, it’s me here. What’s up with you and Brock? That was no friendly peck on the cheek I saw a few minutes ago.”
“Well…on New Year’s Eve…” Abandoning excuses, Mara walked to her closet and leaned on the door frame. She sighed. “I’m kind of embarrassed about it, to tell you the truth.”
“Are you okay? I thought you—”
“I’m fine.” Mara absently adjusted some hangers. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“Sherry!” Mara swung around, half tempted to laugh at her friend’s audacity. “I told you things are fine.”
“You’re on the rebound, you know. You miss Todd, and you’re vulnerable.”
“So, when did you get a doctorate in psychology, Sher?” Mara stepped out of her high heels and padded across the room in her stocking feet. “You don’t know what’s going on here.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
“What?”
“I…admire Brock.”
“Oh, please.”
“I do. He’s good at his work. He cares about the ranch. He’s a carpenter, too. I bet you didn’t know that.”
“I’m impressed.”
Mara plopped down on her bed. “Okay, maybe things have heated up between us a little.”
“What I witnessed in the living room was an inferno.”
“It was a kiss.”
“It was love.”
“Oh, Sherry, go to bed. Your room’s down the hall.”
Sherry crossed her arms and stuck out her chin. Her blue eyes sparkled with determination as she stared at Mara.
“Spill it,” she commanded.
Mara let out a deep breath and flopped back on the bed. “You drive me crazy. Okay…I’ll admit I don’t really understand what’s happening. One minute I was sure I had done the right thing to marry Brock and take care of the future for Abby. The next minute I was in his arms.”
“The next minute?”
“It took a few weeks.”
“The last time I visited you out here, we went over all of Brock Barnett’s flaws, remember? He’s arrogant, self-centered, a perfectionist, stubborn and not at all religious.”
“He’s loyal, hardworking, funny, strong, high-minded—”
“Oh, no! Mara, you are in love with him!”
“Todd loved him. I’m just seeing the things Todd appreciated for all those years. In many ways, Brock really is a very good person.”
“He’s bad news, Mara.” Sherry moaned and sank down in her chair. “How can you suddenly forget about all those women he’s carted around? The man is a bona fide playboy.”
Mara stared at the ceiling of her room. “I’m not sure about that anymore, Sher. He’s a different man these days. He’s kind. Gentle. Almost tame.”
“Tame? Are we talking about Brock Barnett?”
“He prays at the dinner table.”
“Are you kidding me, Mara? Brock prays?”
“He’s changed. He seems very serious about things.”
“Things? You’re not a thing. Abby’s not a thing. Have you thought about how your daughter might be affected by this?”
“Of course I have. You should see Brock with Abby. He’s wonderful. He takes her everywhere. He changes her diapers and bathes her. They make breakfast together nearly every morning.”
Sherry groaned again.
“And he puts his feet on the table these days,” Mara concluded.
“You’re nuts. You’ve gone completely bonkers over the man.” Sherry leaned forward and shook her finger in Mara’s face. “You’re talking about his feet, Mara!”
“You just don’t understand. Brock is relaxed with me, don’t you get it? He feels comfortable, and so do I. I like him.”
Sherry’s expression grew serious. “What about Todd? How comfortable do you think he’d be over the notion of you falling in love with his best friend?”
Mara studied the half inch of bare white skin on her ring finger. “Sherry, Todd is gone. He isn’t coming back.”
Sherry’s eyes followed Mara’s gaze. “You took off your ring. Mara, do you know what this means?”
“It means I’m letting go.”
“It hasn’t even been a year!”
“It feels like ten. All these months, I’ve felt numb. I’ve been so lonely. Right now, I swear I could almost fly. Sherry, it scares me silly how happy I feel with that man.”
Sherry shook her head. “I want you to be happy. If anyone does, it’s me, right? The last thing I’d wish for my best friend is to spend her life in misery. But I can’t help thinking you’re setting yourself up for a fall. Brock is going to use you.”
“That’s ridiculous. What’s he getting out of it? A wife, a baby, extra bills to pay, headaches—”
“A gorgeous blonde with long legs and—”
“I’m a nursing mother!”
“So what? You look beautiful, and Brock can’t take his eyes off you. He’s a man in lust.”
“Lust? Is that what you think this is? You’re impossible!” Mara rolled off the bed and stomped across the room. Sherry’s comment had hit far too close to the mark for comfort. Mara had wondered if her own feelings for Brock centered on physical desire, and she had no doubt of his longings for her. Were they actually lusting—that enormous biblical no-no? Or were they a married couple denying each other far too long?
“Do you really think this is all just physical?” she asked Sherry. “You know Brock could have any woman he wanted.”
“Why should he when you’re right here and willing? Have you slept with him yet?”
“That’s none of your business.” Mara glared at her friend until Sherry looked away. “No, I haven’t slept with Brock, but if I decide to, I won’t ask your permission. Don’t forget, he is my husband.”
“Oh, Mara! Don’t you see how easily he could take advantage of you?”
“Do you think I’m some spineless jellyfish?”
“I think you’re a widow with a two-month-old baby. I think you miss your husband, and you’ve been scared and lonely. I think Brock Barnett is a man who may be nice enough, but he never learned about love or commitment. He’s spent his entire life chasing skirts, accumulating money and heading off on wild adventures. You aren’t forgetting Brock was with Todd when he fell off the cliff, are you?”
Mara shook her head. “No,” she whispered.
“Does Brock admit he was responsible?”
“We haven’t really talked about it.”
“Of course not. Why would he want to dredge that up?”
“No, it’s my fault, Sherry. Brock has tried several times to tell me what happened. I can’t bring myself to hear the details, even though I know it would probably be healing for both of us.”
“Mara, are you really getting deeply involved with this man? Are you falling in love with him?”
“I don’t know what’s happening, Sher. When I try to sort it out, I keep coming back to the same thing. Todd loved Brock for seventeen years. Now I understand why.”
Love's Haven Page 20
