Tori scooted over beside him and held his hand. "You have no choice. You did all you could."
Despite the cold, the warmth of Tori's hand penetrated his own. Her sincerity and sweetness thawed his heart. God knows what he would have done without her right now.
"I want to know why someone would let the dog out," she said. "It's not funny."
"People pull stunts like that all the time. I can't tell you how many times cars have slammed on their brakes in front of me just to try to get me to jackknife on the road. All for kicks."
"That's awful."
Zach nodded. "Messing around with me is one thing. But messing around with my dog …"
"Don't worry," she said in a soft, tranquil tone. "Spike still has his tags on."
"But who knows that for sure? Somehow his bandanna came off. Who knows what happened to him after that?"
"I think I know what happened." Tori sighed. "He wandered too far, that's all. When the coffee shop waitress or someone else finds him, they'll get in touch with us. I just know it."
"God, I hope you're right."
Zach shifted gears and reluctantly pulled out of the parking lot. He forced himself to concentrate on what lay ahead. As he drove on, the green highway signs for St. Louis appeared more frequently. On each sign, the number of miles remaining steadily decreased. Each sign also reminded Zach that his journey with Tori would soon come to an end.
And so would his career. He faced the fact that he'd have no job to come back to when he returned to Boston. Zach could already hear Mr. Parsim howling about how he could have squeezed another five hundred miles out of the truck before it broke down—if he hadn't decided to steal it.
But parting ways with Tori would be the most difficult thing to face. Tori would soon say goodbye to him and find a ride home... somehow. He couldn't take her to Bloomfield. If he did, he'd never make it to the shelter in time.
She could hold her own, he convinced himself, and she'd prove herself once again. Still, he hated the thought of her scrounging around, trying to find transportation.
"The offer still stands. If you want money for bus fare, I've got enough to cover your trip."
"I would but I don't think I'll be needing it," Tori announced.
"Why not?"
"Because I made a decision. I'm going with you to help those kids."
"No, you're not. You have your own family to worry about."
"Do you want to get rid of me that much?" she asked.
"That's not it. What about your family? Your son?"
"They'll understand. I'll make it up to him. I'll stay at home a few days later than I planned. So what if I miss the first few days of classes next semester?"
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm saying I want to help you. You've helped me get this far and I've been nothing but trouble." She paused. "I've been wanting to tell you how sorry I am that I didn't trust you enough to tell you I really lived in Bloomfield."
"Don't worry about it. I understand how hard it can be to trust someone. And how can I be mad that my girl wants to spend more time with me?" He raised his right arm over her to have her snuggle up to him.
"I'm glad you understand. And to make up for it, I want to be there for you. But there's more." Her voice trailed off before continuing. "I'd like you to come have Christmas with my family tomorrow. We can go right after we spend time at the shelter."
"No, Tori. Tonight is Christmas Eve. You can't miss that. You should be with your family. We'll be in St. Louis soon. A few more hours after that, you'll make it home just after dinnertime." He looked at her just long enough to see the hurt in her eyes.
"You think I'm just asking so I can be chauffeured to my front door, don't you?" she asked.
"No."
"Then why? Why won't you come? I know you told me how you feel about family, but you've got it all wrong. You'll only have to deal with just a few of us... and we don't bite."
"Tori, we have to face the fact that we've got to split up some time. We can't drag it out. Don't worry about me, I'm used to being alone on Christmas. Besides, I'll be with all those kids." He tried to sound disinterested, even aloof, but he knew she wouldn't buy it.
"I don't buy it. How does anyone get used to having no real family ties?"
"Tori, you don't understand. It's not necessarily by choice. I don't mean to sound too heavy, but"—his voice faltered—"sometimes, you get too attached to people, and then they're gone. I lost my parents. I have no brothers or sisters. I lost Karen. Eventually, you just learn it's easier not to let yourself feel that way ever again."
"You mean, never to love?" Tori asked.
Zach gave a slight nod. "Yeah. Whenever I do, it goes wrong. And now I've even lost Spike."
"I'm sorry about your parents. And I know how much you love that dog. Even when you promise to stop caring, sometimes you can't help it." She smiled a gentle smile.
Zach couldn't help but be touched by her tenderness. He told her about his parents' car accident. He explained how he saw no sense in trying to build something, such as a family, only to risk losing it all in a heartbeat. It had been easier to avoid all commitments and bury himself in pursuit of whatever success he could achieve. His goal of owning his own transportation company someday had been just that. A goal. And a superficial one at best.
As they drove, Zach couldn't help contemplating her offer of Christmas dinner. Although deep down, he had always hoped to get the girl of his dreams, he never thought it meant getting the son, the mother, the father, and the whole Christmas holiday. He couldn't imagine putting himself in the awkward situation of visiting in the company of strangers on Christmas Day, knowing only Tori.
And there would be the usual Christmas dinner to give him indigestion: lumpy homemade gravy, dried-out turkey, cold vegetables, and the inevitable mashed potatoes. He could have all that at the shelter on Christmas Day if he really wanted it.
And then he'd have to deal with the other social aspects of the holiday; play with the kid, suck up to the mom, and lounge around contently on a full stomach with the dad. And the women would clean up and join their men while the kid happily demonstrated every noise-making toy that Santa had been unwise enough to leave him. He would hate the entire day. Yeah. Every heartwarming minute of it.
"I'll go," he blurted to Tori after several minutes of convincing himself not to. "If you really want me, I'll go."
Tori perked up. The light of the late afternoon sun sparkled in her widened eyes as she smiled back at him in delight.
"I can't guarantee how long I can stay," he warned, "but I'll go."
Tori leaned into him and whispered how he wouldn't regret it. And he hoped she was right. By his grim estimation of his future, the Christmas dinner would probably be his last real home-cooked meal in a long time. After that, he'd be out of a job and living on low budget pasta and water.
After getting off Route Seventy, Zach guided his truck down Delmar Boulevard and passed the Greyhound station. He wouldn't be dropping off Tori there today. From off Delmar, he turned down a street almost too narrow for his rig and eased it alongside a rundown building. After a few years of making this trip, he had learned the best way to maneuver the massive vehicle in order to unload the boxes and eventually depart without being trapped on the narrow street.
"This is it." Zach secured the vehicle.
"Hey, a man is coming toward us and waving." Tori pointed out the front of the truck's windshield. Zach eyed the older gentleman who wore a cardigan sweater over his black clothing.
"It's Pastor Joe. You'll like him." Zach hopped out and waited for Tori to join him. Zach strode over to the man and they embraced. He introduced Pastor Joe to Tori as the man responsible for keeping the shelter going.
Pastor Joe shook his head in modest disagreement. "Zach, no. It's volunteers like you who keep this place going." He took Tori's hand in a warm handshake and then turned to Zach. "I began to worry about you."
"Well, we had a few setbacks, but
we're here now," Zach said to the man with the smiling eyes.
"I'm glad. It's a full house this year. Hope you reserved all your energy!" The pastor turned back toward the building and gestured for them to tag along.
"Have you done volunteer work before, Tori?" he asked. "Worked in a soup kitchen? Anything like that?"
"I volunteered in a hospital one summer."
"This is a shelter for abused or neglected children. State agencies bring them here until their family situations get resolved or they're placed in foster care and so forth." He stopped his explanation momentarily to open the door.
"We get a good number of students from the university to help throughout the year, but most of them go home for their winter break," he said. "It leaves us a little short-handed."
Zach held Tori's hand as they entered the large warehouse-sized building. This year, Zach noticed more partitions in the back to create makeshift rooms so the children could sleep with a modicum of privacy. Zach knew it meant the shelter received additional money. For that, he was grateful. Sadly, it also meant more kids than ever.
He looked around to see various groups of children playing on the wooden floor. Some sat on benches reading with a young volunteer; and others sat quietly against the wall, a desperate confusion evident in their eyes. He constantly had to remind himself that living here where volunteers took care of them had to be better than where they had come from.
He searched the faces of the children, but none looked familiar from last year. He didn't expect to recognize any one face since he didn't allow himself to pay attention to any one child long enough. If he did, it would have broken his heart in two. Zach's thoughts dissipated as he felt Tori's hand tighten around his.
"Are you okay?" he asked her. Her eyes had rounded as much as some of the children's. "It's a lot to take in, I know. We can go back outside for a few minutes if you want."
But Tori shook her head no. "I-I just had no idea. I look at each one and I just want to take them all home with me."
"We all feel that way," Pastor Joe spoke up, "but we can only do what we can here. And you never feel as though you can do enough."
Zach looked at the water-stained ceiling and along the walls where a few cheerless Christmas decorations hung. As they reached the back of the large building, the pastor paused. "I'd like you to meet a few people."
The pastor introduced Zach and Tori to other volunteers and the house mother and father. Zach remembered them from years past.
"The volunteers came down just for your arrival, Zach. We all knew you'd need help unloading the boxes, so whenever you're ready."
"Now is as good a time as any." Zach led the volunteers out the back of the building to load the boxes in a side entrance. Each volunteer discretely carried the boxes in the side door to take care not to give away the surprise. The children had little enough magic in their lives.
"So, Zach," Pastor Joe huffed behind one box, "have you changed your mind this year?"
"No... and I never will. I'll only go so far!" Zach laughed as he walked alongside the pastor.
"What are you two talking about?" Tori asked.
Pastor Joe dropped his box on the floor by the back office before answering Tori. "Every year I try to get Zach to be Santa and every year he refuses."
"I think he'd make a great Santa," Tori said firmly.
"Now wait a minute! You'll never get me to put on that red monkey suit. Besides, we won't be around long enough tomorrow. I'm spending the day with Tori and her family." Zach could feel Tori's eyes beaming up at him before she disappeared back outside to gather another box.
"This sounds serious, Zach. If you ever need a pastor to perform, well, any particular service, you know where to find me," Pastor Joe offered.
Zach had never been a man to blush, but he couldn't help feel a burning heat rise all the way up to his ears. "I'll keep that in mind," he answered as they returned to the truck. He didn't see the sense in explaining the long, complicated story of how he'd probably never see Tori again following the holiday.
"They're understaffed at the soup kitchen tonight. So, once things are taken care of here, a few of us are heading over there to help out. Interested?"
As Zach pulled out the last of the boxes, he exchanged a quick glance with Tori, who passed by, carrying a box along with other volunteers. She nodded and gave him a warm smile. A smile meant just for him. He read more in that smile than any of the strangers around them ever could... except maybe for Pastor Joe.
Chapter 12
"Oh! I'm pooped!" Tori collapsed onto the bunker bed in the rig. "But it's a good kind of pooped." She brought her hand above her to cradle the back of her head.
"You were a trouper in that soup kitchen." Zach looked down at the lovely but exhausted woman on his bed.
"You held up pretty well yourself." Tori sighed. "The minute I get home, I'm taking a long, hot shower." She closed her eyes and sighed at the refreshing thought.
"I wish I could join you, but I don't think it would be appropriate in your parents' home." Zach fell beside Tori. He closed his eyes and imagined himself and Tori in the whiteness of an old-fashioned bathtub while he showered her with ardent kisses.
"You're right But you can be next in line for the shower." She snuggled up under him.
Zach thought about how tomorrow would unfold at the shelter: the kids romping around the shelter, tearing into their presents, and the volunteer who'd offered to dress up like Santa. He also thought about how he'd be spending the holiday. Warmth filled him at the realization that after all these years, he'd be spending Christmas with a family.
"How did you get the courage to leave your son Stephen for a whole semester? I never get close enough to any one kid because I'd hate to say goodbye." It was a big jump in topics, but it had been a question he wanted to ask her since he'd seen her look so lovingly at all those kids at the shelter.
"I constantly remind myself why I have to spend this time away from him: so I can provide for both of us. And soon. Thank God I only have one semester left."
"It must be tough being away from your kid."
"Tougher than anything in the world. But I have to do it. There was no way I could handle attending dance and business classes and tending to Stephen. I looked at other schools closer to home, but nothing suited my needs. He adores my parents, and they take very good care of him. He's going to miss them when we move to Boston."
"Are you really planning to move there?"
Tori nodded. "I already have some contacts. It's a big city, but not too big, and there's plenty of work. It makes sense. And I love Boston."
"And your parents?"
"They won't like us living so far away, but they know it's for the best. I'll be near good schools for Stephen, and there's a demand for qualified dance instructors. I can't say that about the Bloomfield area."
"Sounds like you've got yourself some wonderful parents."
"I do. They taught me to pursue my dream. Sure, that dream changed when Stephen came along, but that's okay. And if living in Boston doesn't work out for me, I know can I always go home."
"So did you ever want to be a star ballerina?"
"Once. A long time ago. I was all set to join a touring company as part of the corps de ballet, but had to bow out for a year when Stephen was born."
"And it stopped your dream?"
"Some things have to change when you have a child. That's why I'd like to teach and have my own dance studio. I love to dance most of all. I don't need to be a star. Very few dancers get that chance anyway."
Zach stared up at the ceiling as he listened to the hope in Tori's voice. He had his dream of a fleet of trucks that would take him all over North America. She had her dream of a dance studio that would allow her stay put.
"You're pretty focused. I like that," he said.
"I get that from my dad."
"Your dad sounds like a smart man. I'm looking forward to meeting him. We'll get through the breakfast and the gift g
iving with Santa around six-thirty tomorrow morning. After that, we'll make it to your family's home around midmorning. I hate to admit it, but for the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to Christmas. And that's because of you... Tori?"
Zach looked down at the small woman who lay curled up sound asleep alongside him. He let her nestle deeper in his arms without disturbing her. Perhaps it was for the best he hadn't been able to tell her what was really on his mind: Zach was in love with her. For what it was worth. Once tomorrow ended, they would soon part company, and pursue their different dreams.
After tomorrow, he would never see her again.
* * *
If any home had ever looked more welcoming, Tori couldn't remember it. The wintry sunlight spilled over the unpretentious but inviting house and glinted off the small windows that lined the second floor above the front porch. The tree in the front lawn was bare of leaves, yet still seemed to protect and shield the house from the elements. Tori shuddered to think of the day that Stephen would decide to climb and conquer that tree.
Tori stood at the edge of the walkway that cut through the middle of the fenced-in front lawn. Through occasional patches of white snow, Tori noted the landscaped areas where her mother had pruned and worked just a few months before winter set in. As she stood, duffel bag in hand, she heard Zach walk up behind her.
"So this is it," he said and gazed up at the house.
Tori nodded. "And no cracking jokes about a white picket fence." She smiled back at Zach to make sure he had all the Christmas parcels. Warmth flooded her heart at the sight of the small quilt draped over his shoulder.
"There she is, Grandpa!"
Tori looked back up at the front stairs to see her four-year-old son, Stephen, holding his grandfather's hand. After so much time on the road, she was finally reunited with her own little freckle-faced little boy.
"Oh, sweetheart!" Tori dropped her bag and ran up the stone walkway. "I've missed you so much! You're so big!" She picked up her son and smothered him in kisses. Stephen kissed her back and finally squirmed from her arms. He presented her with a small truck from his pocket.
Christmas Knight (Heartthrob Heroes, Book 3) Page 12
