A Very Crimson Christmas (Crimson, Colorado 4)

by Michelle Major

  Chapter Thirteen

  The wind whipped up the snow, making it swirl around Natalie’s head as she stood on the tiny front porch of her mother’s apartment at the edge of town. She rang the doorbell, wondering for a moment how it had gotten to this point, where she felt like a stranger walking into the place where she’d been raised.

  As she waited, her fingers straightened the old wreath on her mother’s door. The berries were chipped, the fake pine bough a little smushed, as if it had been sitting up against something hard in her mom’s small storage unit near the carport. She tried to reshape it into a perfect circle, as if accomplishing that might turn her life right again.

  Trudy opened the door while Natalie was pulling on the edge of the wreath and the whole thing flipped off the nail that held it and crashed to the ground.

  She bent to pick it up. “Sorry, the pine branches were crooked, so I was trying to make it round again.”

  “It’s fine how it is,” Trudy snapped, ripping the wreath from her hands and carefully rehanging it on the door. “Everything around here is great the way it is.”

  “Point taken,” she said, following her mother into the house. The slightly burned smell of microwave popcorn filled the air. Her mother lived on popcorn and frozen dinners, had for as long as Natalie could remember.

  “Where’s Austin?”

  “He had practice for the Christmas pageant after school.” Natalie followed her mother into the apartment’s tiny galley kitchen. “The final performance is next week. Remember I told you about it? I know Austin would love it if you came to the show.”

  “Bring him by The Tavern,” Trudy answered. “Some of the regulars would get a kick out of him singing the songs.”

  Natalie fought the urge to grind her teeth. “He’s not going to do a one-man show at the bar, Mom.”

  “No need for that uppity tone. You spent plenty of time there as a kid, and you turned out just fine.”

  Just fine. Right.

  “I brought you some groceries to get you through the next few days. They’re predicting six inches overnight.” She took the bag off her shoulder and sat it on the counter.

  “That isn’t a grocery bag.” Her mom pointed to the cloth sack.

  “It’s a reusable bag, Mom.” This was one more of Trudy’s quirks. Not only was her mother particular about what she bought, she didn’t like her groceries to come from any other store than the one she favored. “I went to Safeway, the one you like close to town.”

  “I like to have those plastic bags,” Trudy said, still eyeing the deep purple sack as if it was a snake about to strike. “I use them for lots of things around the house.”

  Natalie stalked over to the kitchen sink and threw open the cabinet door. An avalanche of white plastic grocery bags tumbled out. “You’re covered,” she snapped, then immediately felt guilty as her mother’s face fell.

  “I didn’t realize I had so many,” Trudy muttered, worrying her fingers together. “I like to have them around the house.”

  “It’s okay.” Natalie stepped forward to give her mother a short hug. Trudy might drive her crazy with her fears and routines, but Natalie couldn’t imagine what it was like to actually live inside her mother’s mind all the time. “Let’s just unpack the food, okay?”

  She’d bought the frozen dinners and cereal her mother preferred and two boxes of microwave popcorn. She’d also purchased a small bag of baby carrots and a carton of blueberries. She knew they’d probably turn to slime in the fridge—her mother wasn’t one for fresh fruits or vegetables. But in the same way she introduced Austin to healthy foods, Natalie kept trying.

  “Mom, we’re having Christmas at Ruth’s farmhouse this year,” she said as she moved cans of diet soda out of the way to make room on a front shelf in the refrigerator for the blueberries. “Austin would love it if you were there with us. He’s officially too old for Santa Claus, but that won’t stop him from waking at the crack of dawn to open presents.” She put the frozen dinners away, then turned to her mother. “You could spend the night Christmas Eve. There’s room.”

  Before Natalie had finished the sentence, Trudy shook her head. “I’m working both nights. Can’t do it.” She took the boxes of popcorn and added them to the supply in her small pantry.

  “It’s crazy that The Tavern stays open on Christmas.” Natalie couldn’t help the bitterness that crept into her voice. “You’ve been working holidays there since I can remember. You can get one year off.”

  “I don’t mind. Lots of locals look forward to a break over the holidays and stop in for a drink. Most of the other girls working there have families they need to see.”

  “Hello, you have a family.”

  Trudy rearranged the popcorn boxes until the way they were stacked met her arbitrary standards. “Brad called again yesterday. He told me he tried to reach you. You’ve got to answer, Natalie. Talk to him.”

  “So he can ask me for more money? No, thanks.” She folded the reusable grocery bag and tucked it under her arm.

  “He wants to come home, sweetie. Give him a chance. Your dad certainly never entertained the idea of coming to Crimson to be with us.”

  Natalie had always blamed her father for letting Trudy leave, felt as if she and her mother weren’t good enough to hold his love and attention. That’s what she’d been taught. Finally she realized that might not be the whole story.

  “Did my father ask you to stay with him?”

  Trudy’s hand stilled on the door to the pantry, and she turned slowly. “You know things were hard for me in Atlanta. I was alone, had no family. He worked all the time. I needed to come home. If he loved me, he would have understood that, respected my decision.”

  It wasn’t a direct answer, but it was enough of an admission to send the narrative Natalie had allowed to define her life down a different path. There’d been more to the story than the neglected young wife, with only her baby to love. She’d clung to the idea that her mother had returned to Crimson because she wanted to protect Natalie from the dangers of the big city and a father who would put her safety in jeopardy. There was a fine line between a safe haven and a cage.

  “Did he ever want to see me?”

  Her mother barked out a laugh. “As if I would let him take you away from here.”

  The shift from her identity as a child rejected by one parent to one held prisoner by the other split through Natalie, a crack in the ice around her heart.

  “Is he still in Atlanta? Do you know?”

  “He stopped calling years ago,” her mother said with a dismissive sniff. “Once I convinced him that you weren’t going to leave Crimson and—”

  “I was going to leave.” Natalie’s heart began pounding against her rib cage and she took a breath to control the anxiety that bubbled to the surface. “For college. I was going to leave with Liam.”

  “But you didn’t. You were meant to stay here, just like me.”

  A voice roared inside Natalie. No. Nothing like you.

  Trudy glanced out the small window above the sink. “It’s getting bad out there. You’d better go before the roads are any worse.”

  Natalie nodded numbly, allowed her mother to wrap her in a hug, didn’t flinch when Trudy whispered, “Give Brad a chance. If he comes back to Crimson, everything will work out.”

  She walked out of her mother’s apartment, stood for a long time next to her car in the parking lot. Snow fell in fat flakes around her, blanketing everything with white. Her head tipped to the sky, the snow covered her face. She could almost hear the sizzle as the icy flakes hit her overheated skin. No matter how long she stood there, the burning inside her wouldn’t ease. For years she’d made excuses for her mother’s anxiety, minimized the impact of that legacy of fear on her own life.

  It had cost her so much and it felt as if every
single thing she’d lost, every experience she’d missed out on now flamed in her chest, demanding to be seen. She took off her coat, tossed it into the backseat of her car and rolled down all the windows as she drove across town to the farmhouse. Wind blew through the car and even when her teeth began to chatter and the tips of her fingers turned numb, she still felt feverish with regret and sorrow.

  It was a struggle to make her fingers work the key in the ignition to turn off the car when she got to the farmhouse. She still didn’t register the cold, but her hands were bright pink, her shoulders shivering violently.

  Pull it together, she told herself, standing in the middle of the driveway. You don’t have time for a nervous breakdown.

  Austin would be home soon, and there was dinner to make, homework to oversee. Single mothers didn’t get a night off. She took deep breaths, flexed and tightened her hands to help the circulation. She couldn’t quite regain her self-control, and as she entered the house the shivering turned into full-blown, body-racking shakes.

  Liam’s SUV was in the driveway, and she wasn’t sure what she wanted more—to wrap herself around him or run and hide so he didn’t see her like this. Maybe she could make it up to her bedroom, shower and change quickly before Ruth or Liam noticed what a hot mess she was.

  Of course, Ruth was waiting in the entry as she opened the front door.

  “What were you doing without a coat in the snow?” the older woman asked, leaning on her cane. “You were like a statue in the driveway for at least five minutes.”

  “Dro-opped my ke-eys,” Natalie managed through her chattering teeth. It was hard to make her jaw move to form the words.

  “You’re practically frozen solid.” Ruth reached out a hand, her papery skin scratchy against Natalie’s cheek. “Liam, we need you,” she called, turning her head toward the main part of the house.

  “I don’t need—”

  He was there a moment later, took one look at her and let out a string of curses. “What the hell happened to you?” He wore one of Ruth’s old aprons around his neck. This one said I Licked the Bowl.

  “Ni-ice a-pron.” She tried to smile, but it hurt too much. As feeling returned to her body, every part of it felt as if she was being stabbed with pins and needles.

  “Did you walk from your mother’s?” Ruth asked, shaking her head.

  “Caa-ar windows op-en. Ne-eded fresh a-air.”

  He grabbed her hands, lifting them to the light. “You’re lucky you didn’t get real frostbite. We need to warm you, get you out of those wet clothes.”

  “Aus-tin coming ho-ome.”

  “I can be here with Austin,” Ruth said. “Take care of her, Liam.”

  She was having trouble concentrating on their words over the intense throbbing in her hands and feet. “Aus-tin,” she repeated.

  “You don’t want him to see you like this,” Liam said softly. He scooped her into his arms and started up the stairs. She burrowed against him, her head in the crook of his neck as though she was a newborn snuggling into her mother for comfort. That’s how she felt, exposed and raw, blinking in the bright light after being nestled in her cocoon of ignorance for so many years.

  He cursed again. “Your hair is icy.”

  “It’s co-old out-s-side.”

  “So why were you standing out in the snow? Driving with the windows down like it’s the middle of summer?”

  She didn’t answer, only pressed her nose into the base of his throat.

  He hissed out a breath but pulled her closer against him. Once inside the guest bedroom she used, he set her down on the edge of the bed. She wanted to protest, to beg him to not let her go. But that would be too pathetic, even in a moment when almost every ounce of her pride had been torn to shreds.

  Natalie didn’t break down. No matter what life threw at her, she kept going, moving forward.

  Until now.

  “Can you get undressed?” he asked, then took hold of her hands again, frowning as he squeezed them carefully. “Never mind.”

  She tucked them under her legs as he disappeared into the bathroom connected to her bedroom. A moment later the sound of running water broke the silence of the room. Normally, Natalie would be embarrassed at the thought of Liam preparing a bath for her, but all she could feel now was anticipation of the warm water. Where her body had burned after her conversation with her mother, it was now icy cold.

  A sliver of pride made its way to the surface and she tried to undo the buttons of her denim shirt. Surely she didn’t need Liam for every part of this experience. But her clumsy, still-frozen fingers fumbled on the buttons.

  “Let me,” he said, returning to her.

  Her gaze flicked away, mortified as he stripped her with efficient movements, so different from the way he’d taken off her clothes at other times. She stood, pushing down her wet yoga pants, goose bumps rising on her skin. He held out her flannel robe and she slipped her arms in, grateful for the warmth. More grateful as he led her to the bath and the steam in the small room seeped into her pores. He’d added bubbles to the water, the smell of lavender filled the air.

  She breathed it in, letting the familiar scent melt away some of her shame. “I can ha-andle it fro-om here.”

  He didn’t move, only stood in the doorway with arms shoved into the pockets of his jeans. His eyes were dark and gentle, as if he knew better than she did what had motivated her recklessness today.

  “Fine,” she muttered, her need to step into the bath overcoming her reluctance to do so in front of him. As soon as her toes hit the water, she cringed and drew back.

  “It’s going to hurt at first,” Liam offered.

  “You think?” She took a fortifying breath and plunged one foot, then the other, into the water. Maybe it was good that he was watching. It made her move more quickly than she would have otherwise. She lowered herself into the tub until she was submerged to her shoulders, biting back a groan of pain as the warm water brought life back into her fingers.

  He pushed off from the door, and she covered her breasts—an unconscious response. One side of his mouth curved but he walked past the tub, flipped down the lid on the toilet and sat. “Don’t worry,” he said, humor lacing his tone. “I’ll let you defrost fully before I make my big move.”

  “I didn’t mean...” she started, then paused, thinking of all the places she could go with that sentence. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She tipped back her head to look at him, offered a small smile to let him know she was okay.

  He pulled off the sweater he wore and folded it on his lap. The white T-shirt underneath revealed his wide shoulders and the muscles in his arms. His skin glistened a little from the steam. Natalie realized he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. “You’re welcome.”

  They sat together in a silence more companionable than awkward. Natalie felt her equilibrium—some sense of it—returning. There was so much she wanted to say but was afraid if she tried now the words would get jumbled and she’d make a mess of it, the way she had with so many things involving this man.

  When Liam had shown up in Crimson years ago, she’d pinned all her hopes on him. He was like a shiny penny, “Calgon, take me away,” and her deepest, secret desires all rolled into one slightly aloof and slightly belligerent package. She hated to admit it, but she’d wanted him to rescue her, whisk her away to a happy-ever-after future—the details of which always stayed slightly out of focus.

  The accident that killed Beth Travers changed him, made him sharper and no longer such a safe bet. Natalie hadn’t been able to see him through that. She hadn’t been brave enough to share her fears, so they’d grown and multiplied until they ruined the two of them.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered when the bubbles began to evaporate. Using the toe of one foot, she turned the faucet knob to add more hot water to the bath.


  “Don’t apologize for being human.” Liam bent next to the bathtub, using one finger to peel a strand of wet hair away from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. “It happens to the best of us.” He tipped up her chin so she would look at him, his gaze holding none of the judgment she felt she deserved.

  She nodded, gratitude for his understanding unfurling like a blanket inside of her. Natalie had always forced herself to be strong in front of other people, even her closest friends. If she showed them her weaknesses, exposed her fears, they might think she was like her mother. Liam had seen the worst in her tonight, but he didn’t seem bothered by it the way she expected.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened with your mom?”

  She shook her head, relieved when Liam didn’t argue.

  “I’m going to check on Ruth and Austin, then finish dinner. Do you feel up to joining us?”

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  He pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth and left, leaving her with only the sound of the water as she leaned forward, stretched her tight muscles. As quickly as the emotional upheaval had started, it was over. She was finished, ready to return to real life. She needed the familiar pattern of routine to fully right her.

  So she climbed out, drained the bath and got dressed. She couldn’t manage more than her coziest pajamas but didn’t figure anyone in the house would care. As soon as she walked down the steps and saw Austin at the kitchen table, bent over his homework, she returned fully to herself. The problems were still there—her mother’s increasingly erratic behavior, her scumbag ex-husband, decades of decisions based on unfounded fear. But she had her son, and she would wade through the rest to make sure he had the life he deserved.

  Her steps faltered as Liam, unaware she was there, came up behind Austin, put his hand on the boy’s shoulders and leaned forward to explain a math problem to him. The breath got caught in her throat as her heart beat out a message that said, Yes, that. Right there. Our future is right there.