One Step Away: Once Upon a Proposal

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One Step Away: Once Upon a Proposal Page 18

by Sherryl Woods


  Chelsea picked up the fragile ornament, held it for no longer than a heartbeat, then dropped it with obvious deliberation, not on the carpet, but on the wood floor, where it shattered into hundreds of tiny shards of glass.

  “Oh, no,” Beth cried, then fell silent as tears stung her eyes.

  “Chelsea!” Ken shouted furiously. “Go to your room.”

  Stunned, Beth stared through her tears at the bits of glass and felt as if they represented the shattered remains of her broken heart. Finally she knelt and began to pick them up. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the little girl who hadn’t budged despite her father’s angry order.

  “Chelsea, you heard me,” Ken insisted. “Go to your room this instant.”

  “No. I won’t,” she said, grabbing the other angel and clutching it tightly. Tears tracked down her forlorn face.

  “Why would you do something like this?” he said, sounding more perplexed than furious.

  Beth could have told him the answer. Chelsea was holding on to the past in the only way she knew how. She was rejecting a future that included Beth and not her mother.

  As if to confirm it, Chelsea said, “I want this one on the tree. This one is ours. Mommy bought it.”

  So, Beth thought with a sigh of regret, that was that. Pam would always be there among them. She had known it from the outset, but as recently as a few hours ago she had almost dared to believe they could make it work. The shattered angel proved otherwise.

  Holding back her own tears, she stood. “I think I’d better go.”

  “You don’t have your car,” Ken protested. “Wait a minute, until we settle this, and I’ll take you.”

  “No,” she said sharply. “I’ll call Gillie. She’ll come.”

  “Beth, please.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Chelsea needs you.”

  She made the call to Gillie, pulled on her coat and went outside to wait, quietly but ever-so-firmly shutting the door on her dreams.

  * * *

  Ken bit off a curse as he heard the quiet click of the front door. Suddenly he saw all of his plans for marriage going up in smoke. Chelsea was standing in front of him, her whole body shuddering with pent-up sobs. She turned frightened eyes on him.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered on a broken sob. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make Beth go away.”

  He held out his arms and gathered her close. “I’m sorry, too, baby. I’m sorry, too.”

  Eventually the storm of tears ended and Chelsea gazed at him sorrowfully. “Is Beth mad at me?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m sorry I broke her angel.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Because I was mad.”

  “At Beth?”

  “No,” she said in a small voice. “At Mommy.”

  “Maybe tomorrow you can call Beth and tell her that.”

  Chelsea’s expression brightened a little. “I have my allowance saved. I could buy her another angel.”

  He grinned. He knew her piggy bank didn’t hold nearly enough to pay for the angel. He also knew that it was incredibly important that she was willing to make the gesture. “I think that might make her very happy.”

  “Maybe I’ll give it to her on Christmas morning.”

  “Good idea,” Ken agreed. He was reassured that Chelsea truly was learning to accept Beth and that this was simply a minor setback. But he wondered how the devil he would ever talk Beth into coming back into their house again. Just this once, he had a feeling his fate might very well be in his daughter’s hands.

  First thing in the morning, Chelsea brought the portable phone to him and asked him to dial Beth’s number. Unfortunately, it rang for quite some time without an answer. Even her answering machine didn’t pick up. She had retreated from the world, from them.

  “You can try again later,” he reassured Chelsea, whose disappointment was no greater than his own.

  They spent the morning putting up garlands of evergreen, then went into town to buy another angel, which Chelsea awkwardly wrapped herself and put under the tree. Every hour or so they tried Beth again, all to no avail. Ken had a hunch she had the phone unplugged and the answering machine turned off deliberately.

  It was late afternoon when the brainstorm hit him. He made a couple of calls, made a thermos of hot chocolate, tucked the engagement ring he’d bought a few days earlier into his pocket and bundled up Chelsea. He’d been thinking for weeks that Christmas would be the perfect time to propose, but somehow tonight seemed right.

  “Where are we going, Daddy?”

  “You’ll see.”

  By the time they reached Roger Killington’s, the bank president had hitched a team of horses to the restored sleigh that Ken had asked to store in his barn.

  “Perfect night for a sleigh ride,” Roger said. “You going to pick up Beth?”

  “I’m going to try,” Ken said.

  Roger laughed at his grim tone. “Good luck.”

  “Believe me, I’ll need it.”

  Chelsea was so excited about riding in the sleigh, it was all he could do to keep her seated beside him. They glided across the snow, following a stream of moonlight. The bells on the reins jingled a merry tune that had him grinning with anticipation. This had to charm the socks right off her. What woman could resist a romantic sleigh ride that was capped off with a proposal?

  Apparently Beth had heard the bells—or else Roger had called to warn her—because she was waiting on her front porch when they pulled up outside.

  “Go tell her you’re sorry,” Ken whispered to Chelsea. “She won’t come with us unless you do.”

  Chelsea shot him a frightened look, but with an incredible display of pint-size bravado she slid down and scampered off across the snow. Ken couldn’t hear what she said, but Beth knelt down and pulled her into a tight hug. He considered that a good sign. The best, in fact.

  He walked over to join them. “Care to go for a sleigh ride with us? You promised, remember?”

  Beth’s gaze shifted from Chelsea to him, then moved on to the sleigh. “Is that the one you bought at the auction?” she inquired, amazement written all over her face.

  “That’s the one. Isn’t it a beauty?”

  Taking Chelsea’s hand, she crossed over to the sleigh. The man Beth had hired to do the restoration had done it exactly as he’d envisioned. The runners glistened. The sleigh was shiny with new paint and gold trim. The seats had been upholstered with soft black leather. A bright red wool blanket was draped across the wide seat.

  “I never would have believed it,” Beth said. “It’s like something from a Christmas card.”

  “A Currier and Ives print,” he agreed.

  “And Mr. Killington loaned us the horses,” Chelsea chimed in. “They’re gray. He says I can come over and he’ll teach me to ride sometime. You know what else? He has cows. He showed them to me. And he says he has a granddaughter who’s just my age. She’s going to come for Christmas.”

  “That’s right,” Beth said. “Her name is Melanie. I think you’ll really like her.”

  Chelsea’s expression sobered. “Do you think she’d be my friend? I don’t have any friends here yet, not like at home. My friends there came over to play. Here it’s too far.”

  “I think she would love to be your friend. And my friend Gillie has a little girl who’s in your class at school. Her name is Jessie.”

  Chelsea’s expression brightened. “I know Jessie. She’s really fun. You know her?”

  “Very well. Maybe you could have a tea party for them on Christmas day when your daddy has his open house.”

  Chelsea’s eyes widened as she looked up at him hopefully. “Can I, Daddy?”

  “If Beth will help you. I’m afraid I don’t
know much about tea parties.”

  “Will you, Beth? Will you? We could have little sandwiches and cookies and ice cream and candy.”

  Ken gave an exaggerated groan, but his gaze was locked on Beth. Chelsea’s request seemed to have gotten around her defenses again. Trying to keep the mood light, he said, “Dear Heaven, and I don’t even know the dentist in town yet.”

  Beth grinned at him. “You will. In the meantime, Chelsea and I will try to come up with a slightly less sugary menu.”

  “Does that mean you’ll help?” Chelsea demanded.

  There was an instant’s hesitation that had Ken holding his breath, then she nodded. “I would love to help,” she agreed.

  “Good, then that’s settled,” Ken said in a rush to conclude the deal before she could change her mind. “Now button up that coat and climb aboard. I can’t wait to try this thing out and see if it’s as romantic as I figured it would be.”

  He pinned his gaze on Beth as he said it and watched the color rise in her cheeks. He held out his hand to help her into the sleigh. Chelsea had already managed to climb in and was settled in the middle of the seat. He frowned at her. “Over, little one.”

  “But I want to sit next to you and Beth.”

  He caught Beth’s grin and realized that his scheme had just gone up in smoke. So much for romance. Chelsea probably held the key to his capturing Beth’s heart and holding it, anyway.

  When his two ladies were settled, he took the reins in hand and guided the horses toward the open field behind Beth’s house. For the next two hours they glided across the moonlit landscape, drinking hot chocolate and once again fracturing a long list of carols with their off-key voices and improvised words.

  “If we don’t get inside soon, our frostbite will be decidedly unromantic,” Beth finally warned, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling.

  She looked, Ken thought, radiant. More, she appeared to be contented. If nothing else, this outing had washed away the shadows caused by Chelsea’s behavior the day before.

  “Come with me to drop the sleigh off and I’ll drive you home afterward, okay?” he suggested, thinking of the diamond ring that was practically burning a hole in his pocket.

  She nodded.

  Ken slid his arm across his sleepy daughter and captured Beth’s gloved hand in his own. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

  A few minutes later as they returned to Roger’s, he came out in the yard to greet them. At the sight of Beth, the older man grinned. “I see he talked you into going out. The man might make a New Englander yet. Doesn’t seem to care that the temperature’s heading for zero and more snow’s expected any minute now.”

  Ken plucked a couple of foot warmers from the floor of the sleigh, along with the now-empty thermos. “The key is preparation.”

  Roger laughed. “I’d say the warmers and the hot chocolate didn’t have much to do with it. I’d say there’s more heat in the way you two look at each other.”

  Ken watched Beth’s face flame and laughed along with Roger. “There’s some truth to that,” he said, starting to lead the horses back to the barn.

  “I’ll take them,” Roger offered. “You run along. Your girl there looks as if she’s asleep on her feet and I think you and Beth have better things to do than stabling my horses.”

  Again, Ken’s thoughts went to the ring in his pocket. “Just this once,” he agreed.

  “Merry Christmas,” Roger called after them as they made their way to the car.

  “Merry Christmas!” Ken called back. “We’ll see you on Christmas afternoon. Chelsea’s anxious to meet your granddaughter, so be sure to bring her along.”

  “Right, son. You drive carefully.”

  Turning onto the road a few minutes later, Ken headed toward his house. Beth glanced over at him. “I thought you were taking me home first.”

  “Chelsea needs to get to bed.”

  “But once she’s there, you can’t leave to take me home.”

  He kept his gaze level. “I know,” he said quietly. “Stay tonight.”

  “Ken...” she began, but the protest never went any further.

  “If you really insist, I’ll turn around,” he offered.

  “I suppose... I suppose it will be okay,” she said. Suddenly she grinned. “After all, there are plenty of bedrooms there. I should know. I decorated every one of them.”

  “You won’t be staying in a guest room,” he countered.

  She settled back against the seat of the car, a half smile on her lips. “We’ll see,” she said. “A man should never get too sure of himself.”

  The deliberate taunt stirred his blood. “You should never challenge a desperate man.”

  She faced him, her expression all innocence. “Why is that?”

  “It just makes us all the more determined to get our way.”

  “How fascinating,” she said. “I can hardly wait to see you try.”

  If Chelsea hadn’t been in the car, Ken would have started trying right then and there. He knew for a fact how quickly he could make Beth’s pulse race, how easily he could set off a trembling that scrambled through her entire body. The more she resisted, the more fun it was to sneak past her defenses.

  He sent her a look that he hoped spoke volumes about his intentions. Her response was a sassy grin that made his entire body tighten with need. Right now, he figured it was a toss-up which one of them was better at the game he’d foolishly initiated.

  He carried Chelsea inside and headed up the stairs with her. At the top, she woke up. “Are we home?”

  “Yep. Change into your nightgown and hop into bed.”

  “But I haven’t had my bath,” she protested sleepily.

  “You don’t need one tonight.”

  “But I always take a bath before I go to bed.”

  Ken thought of the woman waiting downstairs for him. “Just this once, your bath can wait until morning,” he assured Chelsea. “Come on. Into your nightgown and into bed.”

  “Is Beth here?”

  “She’s downstairs.”

  “I want her to read me a story.”

  Ken barely contained a groan. “Sweetie, you’ll be asleep before she reads the first paragraph.”

  “I always have a bedtime story, Daddy. You know that,” she insisted stubbornly.

  Sighing deeply, he finally relented, mainly because he knew Beth would be pleased by the request. “I’ll get her, but you’d better be all tucked in when I get back.”

  “Okay.”

  He called to Beth from the top of the stairs. When she appeared in the foyer below, he said, “Chelsea wants you to read her a bedtime story.”

  A smile of absolute pleasure spread across her face. She looked so delighted, Ken was glad he’d broken down and asked. She practically took the steps two at a time, though it was clear she was trying to contain her enthusiasm.

  “What book does she want me to read? Does she have a favorite?” She looked up at him worriedly. “What if I’m no good at this?”

  “Didn’t you ever read to your stepchildren?”

  “They were too old.”

  “Well, take it from me, the technique is less important than just showing up. Chelsea loves this ritual. I couldn’t talk her out of it.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Beth admitted.

  Inside Chelsea’s room, he stood back and watched as Beth and his daughter chose a book from the dozens on Chelsea’s shelves.

  “Little Women,” Beth said, rubbing her hand over the embossed binding. “Oh, how I loved this when I was a little girl.”

  “You’ve read it?” Chelsea asked, her astonishment plain.

  “Over and over,” Beth admitted.

  “Will you re
ad it to me? All of it?”

  “It’s a big book and you’re very sleepy.”

  “We don’t have to finish tonight. You could read it to me every night,” Chelsea said, yawning as she scrambled under the covers.

  Beth pulled them up under her chin, then settled into the chair beside the bed and began to read. As Ken had anticipated, her voice quickly lulled Chelsea to sleep, but still she read on as if just being there brought her joy. He couldn’t bring himself to cut her off.

  Finally, when the chapter ended, she closed the book and glanced his way. Putting the book aside, she leaned down and kissed Chelsea’s cheek and smoothed her hair away from her face. “Sleep well,” she whispered, then joined Ken in the hallway.

  “I told you you’d do fine,” he said. “You made her very happy.”

  “Not nearly as happy as she made me. If only...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Stop that,” he told her, silencing her with a kiss. “If only is a very sad phrase. There are only certainties in our future.”

  She smiled, but there was no mistaking the regret in her eyes. “If only...” she began, mocking him. “If only that were true.”

  “We can make it true,” he told her, leading her into the living room where the lights twinkling on the tree provided the only illumination. When she was curled up at the end of the sofa, he settled himself beside her and drew in a deep breath. Her suddenly wary expression wasn’t helping matters.

  “Beth, you know how I feel about you,” he began.

  “Ken, don’t,” she whispered, touching a finger to his lips. “It won’t work and you know it.”

  “No,” he insisted, taking her hand, brushing a kiss across the knuckles, then holding it tightly. “Listen to me, please. If I haven’t told you in words how much I love you, then I hope you’ve seen it in the way I am when I’m with you. I’m at peace with myself and, believe me, contentment is something I never expected to find when I moved here. You make me want to look ahead, not back.”

  He looked into her dismayed eyes and nearly stopped. Instead he hurried on. “You would make me extremely happy if you would agree to become my wife.” He pulled the velvet box from his pocket, flipped it open to reveal a stunning diamond and held it out.

 

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