“That’s what Val said. Has your dad ever considered getting married again?”
“Never. He hasn’t even dated. I talked to him about it once, after Sam went to college. We were all gone from home. I figured he might be lonely. But he simply told me he had no desire to be in the company of a woman. One would cause too much disturbance in his life. He liked doing things the way he wanted to do them, and didn’t want to change. Since he opened the lodge, he’s been busy with that. I hope you’re not thinking about playing matchmaker.”
“Of course not,” she answered softly.
“Good. Because throwing people together doesn’t make them closer. Val and Dad are friends. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to that.”
“Maybe your dad has never considered dating Val because he is so close to her. Maybe if he just opened his eyes, he could have a partner for the rest of his life.”
“Don’t you have enough concerns of your own to think about without adding Dad’s?”
Suddenly, Nathan braked and pointed to his left. “Look.” Along the side of the road were two elk, blending in with their surroundings. They stood perfectly still for a moment, eyeing the car, then they lumbered off into the forest.
“Were they moose?” Sara asked.
Nathan laughed. “Any self-respecting moose would consider that an insult. No, they’re elk. You really are a city girl, aren’t you?”
She frowned. “Maybe. But now I’ll know an elk from a moose if I see another one.” Nathan couldn’t help laughing again. And it felt good to do so. Sure, Kyle made him smile. But that genuine, free laughter had been caged inside of him for a long time. It was great to let it out.
Sara was smiling at him. “I’m glad I’m so funny.”
“You’re not funny, Sara, you’re real. And I like that.” He liked it too damn much.
The scenery was pure Minnesota winter—fir trees coated with snow, icy lakes, white fields as far as the eye could see, gray sky that portended more snow, which began falling an hour from their destination.
Sara lifted her purse from the floor. “Do you mind if I play a CD? I brought a Christmas one.”
The wipers were working to keep the frenzied flurries from the windshield. The heater blew warmth through the SUV. Nathan could feel Sara’s expectant gaze on him. He was aware of her slender body, angled toward him. He noticed the silkiness of her hair as she turned her head and strands swung along her cheek. Christmas music always stabbed him where he hurt. But he couldn’t be a Scrooge, could he?
“Take it out of its case and I’ll slip it in,” he said gruffly. He was closer to the unit than she was.
When she handed the CD to him, their fingers touched. The electricity almost made him drop the disk. But he held on to it, slid it into the player and pressed the button to start it. Soon, instrumental strains were floating through the car.
“Do you really like Christmas, or are you just enjoying it because of Kyle?” he asked her, genuinely curious.
“I love the holidays. Mom and I had traditions. We never had a lot of money, so some were born out of necessity. We’d always put our tree up on Christmas Eve because that’s when they went on sale and we could get one for very little cost. We made the ornaments together the week before. It’s amazing what we could do with glue, glitter and construction paper. We belonged to one of those grocery store clubs, so anything we bought gave us points toward the holiday turkey.”
“And your mom taught you how to cook it,” Nathan guessed with a smile.
“Yes, she did. She’d invite anyone who didn’t have a place to go on Christmas. When I was little, it might be a friend from her work. Neighbors joined us. When I was in college, I had a friend whose parents traveled over the holidays. She came home with me a couple of times. I remember one year we learned there was a family down the street who was having a rough time of it. The husband had been laid off work and they had three kids under five, so the wife couldn’t get a job. Mom invited them to have Christmas dinner with us. It sure wasn’t a fix for their situation, but that day helped. Christmas was about the church service and sharing what we had with others. Gifts didn’t enter into it very much,” she added, her voice husky with reminiscence.
“Speaking of churches and Christmas, if you’re still here, would you like to help decorate the church the weekend before Christmas? We’re always looking for volunteers.”
“Sure. I’d like to help.” After a pause, she asked, “What do you remember most about your Christmases as a kid?”
Nathan could easily see where Sara got her giving spirit. Her mother had taught her well. “I think I’ve blocked out the earlier years. Our mother always insisted she had to go shopping in Minneapolis, and she’d take that yearly trip, stay for a week, then come home with a carload of packages. But then she and Dad would argue about the money she’d spent. He couldn’t understand why she couldn’t find what she needed in Rapid Creek. She seemed to count the days every year until she’d have that week away, and I always got the impression that coming back to us was a huge letdown. Dad could sense that. It made him uneasy and sad that he couldn’t give her what she needed.”
“A life bigger than Rapid Creek?” Sara asked.
“Yeah. That was all he knew. That was all he wanted to know.”
“I guess when she married your dad she thought she could be happy in Rapid Creek.”
“She married Dad because she was pregnant with me. If she hadn’t gotten pregnant, they probably wouldn’t have married.”
Perceptively, Sara asked, “Did you feel responsible when she left?”
“When I was a kid, maybe first grade, I heard them arguing. My mother told Dad he’d given their baby a name, but she’d never wanted me. She’d only had Ben and Sam because she’d been trying to delude herself into thinking a husband and family could satisfy her. But a husband and kids were no substitute for a doctorate.”
“Oh, Nathan, I’m sorry. A child should never hear anything like that.”
“Actually, I think it prepared me for when she left. I never had any doubt that Dad was solid, that he loved me and Sam and Ben. Our home was in Rapid Creek, and that would never change. It was comforting, for a kid whose mother wanted to be anyplace but where she was.”
“Did you ever talk to Ben and Sam about her?”
“Not before she left. They were younger than me. I didn’t want them to know she didn’t want any of us. We just rallied around Dad and knew our life was with him. Christmases after she left were about presents and toys, to make up for not having a mother.”
“What about as you got older?”
“Christmases became quieter. Dad was a decent cook, but we helped him more. Soon we were the ones who decorated and put up the tree. I think he really lost his Christmas spirit until Colleen and I married. We’d come back here for the holidays, so would Ben and Sam, and Dad really seemed to enjoy it. After Colleen died, we had to make Christmas good for Kyle. Children definitely are the spirit of Christmas.”
The windshield wipers swished snow away. After a few moments of staring ahead, Sara asked, “Did Colleen have anything special she liked to do? Something you’ve tried to keep alive for Kyle?”
Either Sara was the bravest person he knew, or the most foolhardy. Even his brothers didn’t bring up this subject. Trying to stay emotionally detached, he explained, “Each year she bought a particularly special ornament for the tree. I do that now with Kyle. We go into town to the Christmas shop and find an ornament he really likes.”
“Does he know it was his mother’s tradition?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Did she like to cook? To bake?”
“No, Colleen wasn’t into any of that, though I would expect as our kids got older she might have learned to like it. Icing cookies with kids is something special.”
He could see from Sara’s face that she thought it was, too. He remembered the day he’d come into the kitchen after she and Kyle had iced cookies…when she’d wante
d to make the gingerbread men. They were ready and waiting in the tin now. He just needed to put up the tree. Maybe he’d been postponing the inevitable.
“It’s hard for you to see me with Kyle this Christmas, isn’t it?” Sara murmured.
“I want Kyle to experience everything he can about Christmas. You’re part of that this year.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Sure, it’s hard. Every holiday I imagine Colleen with him. I imagine what Kyle would have been like if he had a twin brother. Hard isn’t the word to cover it.”
Sara kept silent after that burst of truth. She’d wanted to know, and he’d told her.
However, as the snow crunched under his tires, as it deepened the farther they went, as the minutes ticked by more slowly, he realized that memories weren’t enough. They were almost too alive sometimes, and revisiting them only hurt. Did he do it so he could stay connected to the pain? And to Colleen? If he let go of the grief, would he lose her, too?
He’d thought he’d moved on. He’d thought he’d made a life for him and Kyle. But the results of the DNA test could change everything. If Sara was Kyle’s mother, they’d have to include her. It would only be fair to Kyle.
On the other hand, how much would she want to be included? Her life in Minneapolis, her connection to that guy she worked with—he’d heard a different note in her voice when she’d spoken to Ted—might just make her a rare visitor to Rapid Creek.
Wasn’t that what Nathan wanted? Hadn’t he hoped she wasn’t Kyle’s mother, and his life could go back to the way it was before she’d walked into the lodge?
Glancing at her now, her perfect profile, the softness of her skin, the tilt of her head and the curve of her shoulder, he found one thought predominating. He wanted to take her to bed. Whether it was right or wrong, had to do with the past or the present, he didn’t care.
Maybe if he gave in to his desire to sleep with Sara he’d satisfy his curiosity and craving for her, and both would go away.
Then he could live in peace again.
Peace? Even if it cost Kyle a mother?
Peace on his own terms; that was the Christmas gift Nathan wanted.
The SUV zigzagged to a stop beside a rustic log cabin. Through the shower of snowflakes, Sara eyed the place, which couldn’t be more than two rooms. Smoke wisped upward from the chimney.
She concentrated on her surroundings as Nathan pulled up beside Sam’s van so she wouldn’t think about everything Nathan had said. He was still steeped in the past; his memories chained him to it. She could get so hurt if she became involved with him. Yet her heart had led her most of her life, and she couldn’t seem to stop it now.
“He might not be happy we’re here,” Nathan warned her, breaking into her thoughts.
“On the other hand, he might be ready to have some company.”
“Are you one of those eternal optimists?”
“Whenever I can be.”
As soon as they opened their doors, they heard barking from inside the cabin.
“That’s Patches,” Nathan explained.
“Does he have ESP?”
“Sometimes I think he does. He didn’t like Alicia. Growled every time she came close. Sam actually had to put him out of the bedroom when they…well, you know.”
“I didn’t know I was going to have to pass a Patches test. This could be interesting. I’ve never been around many animals. But I guess they’re like kids.”
Nathan gazed at her over the top of the SUV. “Sam treats all of the animals at the clinic like kids. Maybe you two are on the same wavelength.” Wading to the rear of the car through the snow, he opened the back. “I’m going to get the cooler. If he sees I brought provisions, maybe he won’t send us packing.”
“I can help.”
“No, that’s okay. Watch yourself on the front step. It gets icy.”
Sara hadn’t even reached the step when the door opened. Patches appeared beside his master, barking to let the whole world know they had company.
Sam scowled as he asked Nathan, “What are you doing here?”
Chapter Nine
“I brought supplies,” Nathan explained with a huge smile. “Aren’t you about running out? Doesn’t Patches need kibbles?”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “I bought a twenty-five pound bag for him before I drove up. I have enough canned goods for myself to last until June. But if you brought something Val made…”
Sara stepped onto the porch as Patches came forward to sniff at her coat and her boots. “I brought gingerbread men and sugar cookies Kyle decorated. There might even be half a chocolate cake from Val.”
Nathan watched his brother’s attention slide to Sara. What man’s wouldn’t?
Without the hint of a smile, Sam held out his hand to shake hers. “Anyone bringing me half a chocolate cake is more than welcome.”
“I’m Sara Hobart.”
Sam’s gaze shifted to Nathan again, as he looked for an explanation.
Knowing his brother wanted quick, pertinent information, he explained bluntly. “Sara could be Kyle’s mother. She donated her eggs, and the dates are right. We’re having a DNA test done to make sure.”
After sliding off her glove, Sara held her hand out to Patches. He sniffed it, put his head under it and rubbed against her.
“He wants his ears scratched, and will do anything to make that happen. Come on in out of the snow. The cabin is a mess,” Sam warned them.
He wasn’t underestimating the state of the cabin, but Sam looked as if he belonged here. His hair was long and shaggy, and he’d let his beard grow. With his Green Bay Packers sweatshirt and jeans with the holes in the knees, he appeared as uncivilized as his surroundings. Yet that didn’t seem to put Sara off, Nathan noticed with a smile.
“It looks as if you’re working,” she commented.
There were magazines and books stacked everywhere, notebooks and sheets of paper with scratchings and notes. Sam’s laptop sat on a bare wooden table near one wall, his printer plugged into one of the few receptacles.
Their father had furnished the cabin years ago with a green-and-red-plaid, secondhand sofa, and a navy-blue armchair whose covering looked gray and dusty after all these years. The kitchen area contained a microwave and a two-burner range. A small sink was positioned under a window that looked out on the side yard. Only three feet high, the refrigerator had boxes stacked on top of it that held some of Sam’s supplies, including gallon jugs of water. There were a few knotty pine cupboards. The plank floor was pine, too. A braided, multicolored area rug curved under the sofa, and Patches’s big bed, in red-and-black plaid, sat to the side of it. Sam might not care if he had creature comforts, but he’d provide them for his dog.
Nathan set the cooler on top of some papers on the counter.
“Wait a minute! Don’t cover up my notes! I’ll never find them again.”
“Notes on what?” Nathan asked dryly.
“On building a veterinary clinic in Haiti.” Sam addressed Sara. “So are you staying at the lodge?”
“No. I’m staying with Nathan and Kyle.”
Sam’s surprise was obvious.
“When Sara first approached me about all of this, when she first met Kyle, they connected,” Nathan admitted. “Since there’s a distinct possibility she could be his mother, we decided this arrangement would work best.”
Sam shifted the cooler aside and gathered up his papers. “That’s got to be different for you, having someone besides Val around.”
“I’m staying until we get the results of the DNA test,” Sara added, “I have a job in Minneapolis to get back to.”
Over his shoulder, Sam asked, “What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer with a corporate firm.”
Taking his papers to the table, Sam added them to a stack there. “I guess you two didn’t come for a five-minute visit.”
“Not hardly,” Nathan muttered. “Tell me you don’t need a little company, at least for one night
.”
“I don’t think you came up here to keep me company for a night.”
“I have more supplies in the car. I’ll bring them in.” Ignoring Sam’s tone, Nathan started toward the door.
“I know why you came,” his brother called after him. “You think you’re going to talk me into going back with you. Or coming home for Christmas. It’s not going to happen.”
Nathan stopped at the threshold. “Why would you want to stay up here for the holiday when you could be with your family?”
“Right now, I just need to be away from people, from their concern, from their questions. And from all the warm and cuddly feelings surrounding the holidays. I am not in a celebrating mood, and I’m definitely not full of good cheer.”
“Dad’s worried about you.”
“Dad, you, Ben. But stop worrying. Look at me. I’m eating. I’m sleeping. I’m exercising. I’m researching. I’m not wasting away. I’m not contemplating my toes. I’ll be back when I’m ready to come back. Are we clear?”
Nathan knew that tone. He also knew Sam’s stubborn streak was even worse than Ben’s. There was no point arguing with him now, especially in front of Sara. Maybe later he could reason with him.
Patches had sidled up to Sara and collapsed in front of her. Absently, she caressed the dog’s head as she listened to the brothers’ conversation.
Sam grinned at his dog. “Hey, pooch. Have you defected to the fairer sex?”
Patches cocked his head.
“All right. I’ll defer to your judgment.”
“The food in that cooler has to go in the refrigerator,” Nathan announced as he opened the door and went outside.
“I’ll be right out, as soon as I get my boots on,” Sam called.
While Nathan’s brother took off his sneakers and sat on the sofa to put on his boots, Sara opened the cooler. “Nathan said that, like Kyle, you’re fond of hot dogs, so that’s what we brought. But I made a pot of homemade baked beans to go with them. The batch is big, so you’ll have enough to last you a few days. I brought some fresh vegetables, too, since there isn’t a store nearby—carrots, celery, cucumbers. There’s a soup bone for Patches. That was Val’s idea. I could start unpacking everything—”
The Daddy Dilemma Page 12
