The Daddy Dilemma

by Karen Rose Smith

  Sara knew watching from a distance wasn’t the same as being there, but Nathan’s idea was better than not going at all.

  Excitedly, Kyle answered her question. “Uncle Sam won’t mind. He said I can come stay with him anytime I want. Dad lets me sometimes, too.”

  “Sam knows the score,” Nathan said, at her surprised look. “Kyle didn’t test positive for allergies to dogs or cats. He can be around Sam’s dog, Patches, without any problem.”

  “I love Patches. And so does Uncle Sam. He says Patches is his best friend.”

  Nathan opened the door and the three of them stepped inside. Sara could see it was definitely a bachelor pad, from the worn, gray corduroy sofa to the comfortable looking green recliner. A braided rug of gray, green, tan and bits of red warmed up the plank flooring. Although the furniture wasn’t new, the entertainment unit certainly was.

  Nathan’s smile was rueful. “Sam likes to sit in the middle of his football games. That’s a high definition TV. It almost gives a 3D effect.”

  Kyle was already at the front window, trying to get a look at the festivities. “Everyone’s walking to the park,” he announced. Then he ran to the side window, where he could see the tree itself. “Come on, Dad. Come on, Sara. I bet they’re going to light the tree any minute.”

  Nathan checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes, cowboy. We have time to make hot chocolate first.”

  “Do you know where your brother keeps everything?” Sara asked with a smile.

  “Sam’s not complicated when it comes to that. He doesn’t have a whole lot of pots and pans. But he likes chocolate, and keeps a supply of the instant mix on hand.”

  Nathan found a saucepan in a lower cupboard. “We can make one big batch instead of warming up each mug in the microwave.”

  When he turned on the faucet to fill the pan, Sara noted the serious expression on his face. “You’re worried about your brother, aren’t you?”

  “It’s really not like him to go off on his own. He’s a social person, much more so than Ben or me. He likes groups of people. He can talk to anybody. But he’s been so quiet the past few months. And now, leaving like this…Yeah, I’m worried.”

  “He might just need time to let the hurt diminish a bit. I know it’s not the same thing, but after my mother died I really didn’t want to talk to anyone for weeks.”

  Nathan seemed to think about that. “I didn’t have that luxury after Colleen died. I had Kyle and a life with him to build. At work I was on the phone more than I was off of it. But I went through each day on automatic, so I guess you’re right. Maybe Sam does need time alone to think.”

  The water started to boil. Sara handed Nathan the chocolate mix and he stirred it in. Their elbows brushed. Their gazes met. That electricity that had drawn them together in the backyard of the lodge was sparking and crackling. Sara’s heart seemed to skip a beat, and she wished she knew what was going through Nathan’s mind. She’d made the right decision pulling away from him, hadn’t she?

  But pulling away from Nathan just didn’t seem right. Pulling away from him stirred up a loneliness she’d known for far too long.

  “Someone’s talking down there now,” Kyle called to them.

  “Probably the mayor,” Nathan explained. “It’ll be another five minutes, at least. We’ll have time to drink our hot chocolate.”

  “Can we sing a Christmas carol when the tree gets lit up?” Kyle’s face was so hopeful and so little-boy-Christmas wonderful that Sara saw Nathan smile ruefully. “Which one would you like to sing?”

  “‘Jingle Bells.’ I know the words.”

  Kyle’s mug was only half-filled and Sara helped him with it so he didn’t spill it. She also made sure he didn’t burn himself. They had all taken a few sips when the tree lit up in all its splendor, a star twinkling on the top.

  “Oh, look!” Kyle’s voice was filled with awe.

  Tears came to Sara’s eyes…because it was Christmas and she cared about Kyle. Because it was Christmas and she was falling for Nathan.

  “Who’s going to start?” Nathan nudged his son.

  “Let’s start together. I’ll count to three.” Kyle lifted his hand and put down a finger with each number. “One, two, three.”

  They started singing, “‘Dashing through the snow.’” After two verses, Kyle turned back to the window.

  Sara put her arm around his shoulders, feeling Nathan’s eyes on her. She knew he was asking himself what he was going to do if she was Kyle’s mother.

  Tonight she didn’t need to know the answer to that question. Tonight she was satisfied just to be here like this.

  Chapter Seven

  N athan didn’t come to the cemetery often. He didn’t even know why he’d had Colleen and the baby flown here to Rapid Creek after they died, because he’d still been living and working in Minneapolis. But in his grief and loss, he’d brought them to his hometown. Because that’s where his family was? And that’s where comfort lay?

  There hadn’t been any comfort.

  The cemetery was still. Snow was falling. Anyone in his right mind wouldn’t be out here now. Nathan was trying to find his right mind.

  Peering down at his deceased wife’s tombstone and the miniature one next to it, he felt…the hole. The hole they’d both left in his heart. The loss would always be with him, and he would always miss them. But the grief…the grief had changed. It was still there, but definitely not as intense. It was still there, yet sometimes he forgot about Colleen. And since he’d met Sara, sometimes he couldn’t find the grief.

  That worried him almost as much as feeling it all the time. He’d sensed a shift in his world’s axis. That shift unsettled him. It disturbed him. Sara disturbed him.

  Why had she awakened a sex drive that had been asleep for years? Why did his body respond to hers as if…as if it wanted to know hers so much better? As if a coupling could chase away any remnants of his grief. As if a tumble in bed was the only thing on his mind three-quarters of the day.

  Not the only thing. Kyle was on his mind twenty-five hours a day. Kyle and the fact that if Sara was his mother she could have rights. Those rights might infringe on his.

  He knew nothing good could come out of her being here. His logic told him if that DNA test was positive, he was in for a heap of trouble. Yet his body seemed to have a mind of its own where she was concerned.

  If they got involved, would that make dealing with Kyle’s situation better or worse?

  He thought about the hot chocolate, and the lighting of the Christmas tree, and the Christmas carol they’d sung together. Anyone looking in, anyone hearing them, would think they were a family. It hurt. It hurt damn bad, thinking about the possibility that Kyle would know another woman as his mother. Yet didn’t Kyle deserve to have a living mother? Didn’t he himself deserve to have a woman warm his bed?

  Not a woman who could take your son away, the wise voice inside of him warned.

  Snow coated the top of the rose-granite, heart-shaped tombstone and Nathan felt colder than he could ever remember feeling. He longed to hear Colleen’s voice, feel her presence, be sure she was watching over his son. Their son. But there was no message from above. No tap on his shoulder that told him everything would be all right. He could hardly even remember the sound of her voice.

  When Nathan left the two graves, his heart was heavy from all he’d lost. After he made the trek to his SUV, snow collecting on his shoulders, he climbed inside and looked back at the two granite hearts.

  Then he headed for home.

  “I like the stars the best,” Kyle announced as he painted one of the home-baked cookies with blue icing, then stuck a finger into the sweet goo and thrust it into his mouth.

  Sara laughed when icing dribbled down his chin. “I think you like them all best.”

  They’d been baking cookies throughout the morning, and Kyle hadn’t seemed bored with any of it. Val had been cleaning the house, stopping every once in a while to watch them or to listen to what they wer
e saying.

  Now she put down her feather duster on the counter and crossed over to Kyle. “I don’t know why I never thought of making these kinds of cookies with you.” She gazed at the racks of golden-brown cookies, some iced, some not, on the counter.

  “Do you bake cookies at Christmas?” Sara asked conversationally.

  “Galen’s partial to chocolate chip, so I usually make those. He likes anything with lots of sugar and butter.”

  Sara remembered the way Nathan’s dad had eaten at Thanksgiving. He was a big man and enjoyed his food. “He does a lot of hiking, doesn’t he? He seems very fit.”

  “Oh, he’s probably as fit as Nathan. But being fit and watching cholesterol isn’t the same thing. I tell him if he isn’t careful—” She broke off as if she thought she’d said too much.

  “Are you and Galen friends?” Sara asked, not knowing whether or not the housekeeper might be offended by the question.

  Val frowned. “We talk now and then. But he’s always busy at the lodge, and…well, we go our separate ways.”

  It sounded to Sara as if Val wished they didn’t go their separate ways.

  Kyle dipped a blunt icing knife into another color. “Gramps and Val went to school together. That was a really long time ago,” he explained, proving the old adage that little pitchers had big ears.

  Out of habit, Val picked up an empty icing dish and took it to the sink to rinse it. “Yep, we sure did.”

  Sara had the feeling there was a lot Val wasn’t saying, that maybe she’d always had a crush on Galen.

  “Did you know Nathan’s mother?”

  The housekeeper’s eyes caught hers and held. She must have seen Sara’s sincere interest instead of idle curiosity, because she nodded. “Oh, yes. Everyone knew Winifred. She had long black hair and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. I’m not sure how she ended up here, being from England and all. She was trying to find herself before she went back there and settled down. Personally, I think she was tired of the place she grew up, wanted a change, and thought she’d found it here. She was substitute teaching at the high school and working at the feed store part-time when Galen met her.”

  “I can’t imagine a woman leaving three…” Sara stopped and looked down at Kyle. He’d finished icing the last cookie. “Honey, why don’t you go wash up? As soon as the icing hardens you can taste one of the cookies.”

  “Just one?”

  “We have to save some for your dad and Gramps.”

  After a little shrug, Kyle ran to the bathroom.

  Val was studying Sara. “You were going to say you couldn’t imagine leaving three children behind. I think Winifred felt trapped here in a small town with three kids, and Galen working all the time, though that’s no excuse. From what I understand, she had a beau back in England from her earlier days, and I think she decided he could offer her a better life than Galen could. But to never visit, never stay in contact with her kids? I didn’t ever understand that, either.”

  “Maybe she thought they were better off that way.”

  “Maybe she did think that. But the truth is, I couldn’t see Galen letting the boys fly across the ocean to be with her. He was bitter when they broke up.” After a moment of silence Val asked, “Aren’t you going to be facing the same decision if you turn out to be Kyle’s biological mother?”

  “Kyle hasn’t known me as a mother for the past five years.”

  “No. But are you going to be able to walk away?”

  “No. Not like Nathan’s mother did. When I came here, I thought I just needed to see Kyle, but…”

  “But you’re getting attached.”

  Sara knew Val would be on Nathan’s side, no matter what happened, and she shouldn’t be discussing this with her. Turning to the recipe book, she opened to a page near the back. “I thought after lunch Kyle and I could make gingerbread men to put on the tree. When does Nathan usually put it up?”

  “Closer to Christmas. The artificial tree’s in the basement. He doesn’t take any chances with Kyle’s asthma.”

  Val went back to her dusting, and Sara was almost finished washing the baking sheets when Nathan blew in the door with a gust of wind and snow. He seemed to take a moment to get his bearings. The house smelled like vanilla and sugar and Christmas, but he frowned as he came inside.

  “Sara wants to know when you’re going to put up the Christmas tree,” Val commented.

  Nathan didn’t respond. He seemed frozen for a moment, and then serious lines creased his brow. Unzipping his coat, he asked, “Where’s Kyle?”

  “He washed up and then went to play in his room,” Sara answered. “I think he’s counting his arrowheads. He’s very proud of the one Ben gave him. I wondered about the Christmas tree,” she said, crossing over to him, “because I thought I’d have Kyle help me bake gingerbread cookies to hang on it. We could string popcorn, too—”

  “Look, Sara,” he interrupted, “don’t go all out. It’s an artificial tree.”

  “I know. Val told me. But we can still make it special.”

  “It’s always been special. It’s our Christmas tree.”

  She didn’t know where his anger was coming from, and it was anger she heard. “Do you want me to not do anything? I don’t have to help decorate it if it’s something you and Kyle do, a tradition you’ve started.”

  Nathan raked his hand through his hair and seemed to be counting to ten, or at least thinking about his reply before he answered. “Sara, you’ve barged in here with a plan for Christmas. But I don’t know if I’m ready to accept it. You’re trying to get closer to Kyle, when any friendship you have with him is just going to hurt him when you leave.”

  “Your brothers are in and out of his life and that doesn’t seem to hurt him.” She didn’t want to get defensive, but something about Nathan’s attitude really troubled her right now.

  “That’s different. If you are Kyle’s mother, I’m not sure we should tell him.”

  “You’re not serious!”

  “I’m very serious. I want you to think about putting Kyle’s interests first, not your own.” He strode away from her, stopped and turned. “I’m going to spend some time with him, then go back to the lodge. If you want to make gingerbread cookies for something to do, that’s fine. Just remember that next Christmas might be different from this one, no matter what results come back from the DNA test.”

  Val’s eyebrows rose as Nathan exited the room.

  Sara was as flummoxed as the housekeeper. Yet there was a difference. She also felt hurt.

  Sara was folding one of Kyle’s shirts on Friday afternoon when Nathan found her in the laundry room.

  “That’s Val’s job.”

  “Val’s making casseroles for the weekend, so I told her I’d help out. Do you object?”

  Conversations between them had been strained since the other day when Nathan had seemed so angry with her plans for Christmas. She knew they were both on edge, waiting for the DNA results, but something else might be bothering him. Even so, she wasn’t going to stand by and let him treat her like a stranger, which she wasn’t anymore. Not even to him.

  He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and blew out a breath. “No, I don’t object. I came to ask you if you’d like to get out for a while. You’ve been cooped up with Kyle all week. I need some breathing space. I thought we might take the snowmobiles out. Ever ridden one?”

  “No. You want me to go with you?”

  “Is that so surprising?”

  “Considering you’ve hardly said two words to me for the past few days, yes, it is.”

  “You’re exaggerating. We’ve had supper together every night.”

  “Yes, and you talked to Kyle. Or you might have asked me to pass the salt. I’d like to know what you’ve been thinking about.”

  “No, you wouldn’t like to know.”

  When she gazed into his eyes, she saw pain there. It drew her to him. Placing Kyle’s shirt on the dryer, she stepped closer. “What’s the matter?”<
br />
  After a long pause, he finally told her. “I went to Colleen and Mark’s grave on Tuesday. It just hit me, while I was there, that if you are Kyle’s mother he’ll push to spend more time with you, to know more about you. He’ll forget the stories I’ve told him about Colleen. The pictures I have sitting around won’t mean a thing.”

  “You want him to long for a dead mother, rather than having a real one? A living one?”

  “This isn’t black or white, Sara. This is about a woman I loved. The woman who was going to raise Kyle and Mark. The woman who carried and delivered them and then died because she did.”

  Sara could see Nathan had made Colleen a saint in his eyes. There was no way she could compete with that. Did she even want to try?

  “So you’re punishing me for being alive while Colleen isn’t?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve withdrawn, become remote, and don’t have a smile for anyone but Kyle. And even that’s forced. I think you are punishing me.”

  Although her words didn’t seem to have an effect on him, he asked, “Do you want to go on a snowmobile ride?”

  There was restrained patience in his tone and she knew if she wanted to get over this hurdle between them she had to spend some time with him. “I’ve never ridden a snowmobile, but I’m a fast learner. Just let me put on long underwear and I’ll be ready to go.”

  “You need more than long underwear,” he said dryly. “Try a pair of boots, too.”

  As Nathan left the laundry room, Sara sighed. She supposed a halfhearted joke was better than none.

  Sara had ridden a bicycle when she was a teenager, and once or twice she’d been on a horse. But taking a ride on a snowmobile was something she’d never experienced.

  After Nathan showed her everything about the controls, she hopped on, eager to get started. She caught him watching her often, and her gaze went to him just as frequently. Even though Nathan might not want anything to do with her, even if he was still in love with his dead wife, he was a man, Sara was a woman, and they were attracted to each other. No amount of explaining away or rationalizing could change that.