A Hawk's Way Christmas
Page 9
“Yes,” he said, his voice as soft and reverent as she had ever heard it. “It is.”
The two-engine plane bounced and skidded as the wheels settled on terra firma, and an old army jeep began following them down the runway.
“Thanks, Rolleen,” Gavin said as the plane slowed to a halt.
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said as a hired hand opened the plane door for her. “Let’s wait until I meet your grandmother—and your daughter—and see if I can go through with this.”
CHAPTER 7
Rolleen was enchanted by the Lady Luck ranch house. “It’s made of logs, like the ranch houses in the movies!”
Gavin grinned and said, “My great-great-grandfather came from Kentucky. He didn’t want a Spanish hacienda or some southern plantation home. He wanted a simple log cabin, and that’s what he built.”
“Simple?” she said, cocking a brow in disbelief.
Maybe a primitive log cabin was what Gavin’s ancestor had built, but generations of Talbots had obviously added to the place, making it a delightful hodgepodge of levels and sending it in several directions. The massive ranch house and rustic outbuildings sprawled across one of the rolling hills she’d seen from the sky, shaded by immense, tangled live oaks.
She and Gavin had stripped down to T-shirts and jeans to accommodate the warmer South Texas weather and left their coats and sweaters and suitcases in the jeep. But Rolleen had insisted Gavin bring in the shopping bag full of Christmas gifts, since her parents had added a few last-minute items for Beth from the gifts they’d intended for Cherry’s twin girls.
“Your home is beautiful,” Rolleen said to Gavin as they stepped onto the wooden covered porch in back.
“Thanks. Seeing it through your eyes, I can appreciate how unique it really is.”
The back door was open, and in the early-morning quiet, Rolleen could hear someone humming, “She’ll be Comin’ Round the Mountain.” It wasn’t a Christmas tune, but it somehow fit the log cabin setting and made Rolleen smile. She sniffed, smelled yeast and said, “Someone’s baking.”
“That’ll be Hester.”
“But she’s ill.”
“Not too sick to bake, apparently. I’d recognize that smell anywhere. Hester makes the same breakfast every Christmas morning—the most delicious glazed pecan rolls you ever ate in your life. The pecans come from trees here on the Lady Luck planted by my grandfather, just so my grandmother would always be sure to have pecans on Christmas morning.”
The screen door squealed as Gavin pulled it open, and Rolleen got her first look at his grandmother.
“Gavin! What a surprise!” she said, her face splitting wide with a smile as Gavin ushered Rolleen inside. “We didn’t expect you before noon!”
Hester Talbot didn’t look seventy-three—or the least bit sick. She was tall, slim and wiry, like some pioneer woman, her silver-gray hair in a bun at her crown, wisps of it escaping at her temples to frame a face given character by the lines etched on it. Her dark eyes were bright with interest, and her step—she was dressed in a Western plaid shirt, jeans and boots—was lively.
“Who’s this?” Hester asked, her features curious but friendly as she examined Rolleen.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Gavin asked, giving his grandmother a hug so warm he looked like a bear who’d found a honey pot. “You’re supposed to be sick.”
“Why would you think a fool thing like that?”
“Because Ruby Jenkins called and said you were.”
“I’ll dangle that woman from her own telephone pole some day, see if I don’t!” Hester said, shaking her head. “I told her I had the sniffles! As you can see, I’m fit as a fiddle. Or will be, when you tell me who this is you’ve brought home for Christmas.”
“I’ll be glad to, as soon as I can get a word in edgewise,” Gavin said with a laugh.
Hester apparently couldn’t wait. “I’m Hester Talbot,” she volunteered, holding out her hand in welcome.
“Rolleen Whitelaw,” Rolleen said, surprised at the strength of Hester’s grip and the hard calluses she felt against her palm. The shrewd appraisal in the older woman’s eyes made her heart thump a little faster. It wasn’t going to be easy deceiving this woman. Hester Talbot was nobody’s fool.
For the first time, Rolleen realized how Gavin must have felt meeting her parents and knowing he was only playing a role. She opened her mouth to tell the truth, but Gavin spoke first.
“Rolleen and I are engaged,” he said, slipping his arm around Rolleen’s waist and giving her a playfully smacking but startlingly sensual kiss.
“Stop that right now, Gavin Talbot. You’re embarrassing the poor girl!” Hester ordered. Only, it was plain from the heightened color on Hester’s cheeks, she was the one who needed rescue. “I’m so pleased for both of you,” she said, waiting until Gavin let go of Rolleen to give her a hug. “I see you’re wearing the Talbot diamond.”
“You don’t mind, do you?”
Hester snorted. “Mind? That diamond only fits the women Talbot men are supposed to wed. It’s sort of like Cinderella’s slipper. Can’t be sized, don’t you know? Didn’t fit Susan,” she said with a significant glance at Gavin. “Fits you fine, though.”
Rolleen stared at Gavin, wondering why he hadn’t filled her in on that little bit of Talbot folklore. “I see,” she said.
Gavin sniffed the air and said, “How long before those famous pecan rolls of yours come out of the oven?”
Rolleen saw the pleasure on Hester’s face at Gavin’s eagerness to sample her wares.
“No more than ten minutes, maybe less. Promised Beth she could have them with her bacon and eggs. Child could hardly sleep last night, knowing we’d be opening presents this morning. She’s been fondling that package you sent her last week like it was a real baby and not a doll—and don’t ask how I know you got her one. I expect having you here’ll be all the present that girl really needs.”
Rolleen had been watching the byplay between grandmother and grandson, finding comfort in the evident love between them. So she saw the way Gavin tensed at the mention of his daughter. It was plain he wasn’t looking forward to the meeting as much as Beth apparently was.
“Beth!” Hester said. “How long have you been standing there, girl? Come and say hello to your daddy.”
Rolleen turned and saw a rail-thin little girl in the doorway staring at them from large, anxious wide-set eyes, one bare foot atop the other, wearing a puffy-sleeved, flower-patterned nightgown with a ruffle at the hem.
She held tight to the door frame with her right hand, while her left forefinger twined nervously around a strand of her short black hair, which was parted in the middle and came to her chin, framing her face. Her upturned nose held a spattering of freckles, and her eyes—an unusual gray-green color—looked warily back at Rolleen from beneath long black lashes.
“Come on over here, and give your father a hug,” Hester encouraged the little girl.
To Rolleen’s surprise, instead of running toward her father, Beth scampered to her grandmother, hiding behind Hester’s Levi’s and peering out at her father.
The yearning look on Beth’s face was as heartbreaking as the tight-lipped look on Gavin’s. The thick lump in Rolleen’s throat came without warning. Before it had eased enough for her to speak, the oven timer buzzed.
“My pecan rolls are ready,” Hester announced. “Why don’t you take Beth and get her dressed while I take them out of the oven,” Hester said to Gavin.
Rolleen was afraid Gavin was going to refuse, and she couldn’t bear to see the little girl hurt. “Would you mind if I came along?” she said to Beth.
Beth looked anxiously from Rolleen to her father. “My daddy says I’m not supposed to go with strangers.”
Rolleen turned to Gavin. The next move was his. She begged him with her eyes to make the right one.
“Rolleen’s a friend of mine,” he said to Beth. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like her to come along.”
Rolleen looked over her shoulder and met Gavin’s eyes as Beth drew her down the hall. All she wants is to be loved. That isn’t so hard, is it?
Apparently, it was. Gavin followed them, but from the sour look on his face he might have been the guest of honor at a western necktie party—the kind where the guest was left hanging when everybody else went home.
The furnishings in Gavin’s home reflected as many different periods and styles as the outside of the house and Rolleen was enchanted by the whimsical nature of the decorations. A 1920’s era lady’s cloche hat hung on an eighteenth-century mirrored hall tree, and a man’s cherry-wood humidor sat on a delicate marble armoire. The ranch house was filled with museum pieces, but it had a lived-in look.
“I love your home, Gavin,” Rolleen said. She stopped at Beth’s doorway and gasped in delight. “Your bed looks like a covered wagon!”
The twin bed had wheels at the four corners, and instead of a traditional canopy, the top was made of white canvas and was shaped in an oval like the top of a western covered wagon.
“This was my daddy’s bed, too,” Beth said proudly.
Rolleen watched as Gavin lovingly ran a hand over the carved wooden footboard and confessed, “My grandfather made it for me.”
While Gavin was admiring the bed, Beth had gone straight to her chest of drawers. She took out a matching shorts set and a pair of socks and without further ado began tugging her nightgown off over her head.
“May I help?” Rolleen asked, crossing to her.
Beth’s face appeared in the neck of the nightgown wearing a surprised expression. It was apparent the little girl was used to fending for herself. “Okay,” she said.
Rolleen sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the nightgown the rest of the way over Beth’s head, then began helping her into the T-shirt. Once it was on, she helped pull on Beth’s shorts over her underwear, then sat the child in her lap to put on her socks.
Rolleen was aware of Gavin standing by, his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He appeared ready to bolt at the first opportunity.
“You can put on Beth’s left shoe while I get this other sock on,” she suggested.
He made a quick face, but knelt in front of them with a pair of pink tennis shoes in hand.
“You have to untie two knots, Daddy,” Beth said. “‘Cause I tied them like you showed me.”
“I see,” he said, working on the knots without looking at his daughter.
Beth sat perfectly still and pointed her toe as her father slipped the first shoe on.
He tied the lace, double knotted it and asked, “Is that too tight?”
“Nope.” She pointed the other stockinged foot in his direction, and he slipped the other tennis shoe on.
It was obvious to Rolleen, when they both hesitated after Gavin had finished tying Beth’s shoes, that there was some ritual they usually performed at this point. She waited to see if Gavin would follow through with it.
Hesitantly he held his arms out to Beth. As she leaped into his embrace, he lifted her high into the air and swung her around and said, “She can leap tall buildings in a single bound!”
Beth shrieked with fear and delight. “Superwoman!”
Rolleen laughed. “Superwoman wears pink tennis shoes?”
“There used to be a pink towel that went with the outfit,” Gavin said sheepishly as he set Beth back on the ground.
“Come on, Daddy! Let’s eat breakfast, so we can open presents,” Beth said, grabbing her father’s hand and tugging him toward the door.
Rolleen gave Gavin a supporting look as she followed him out of the bedroom. That wasn’t so bad, was it? she asked with her eyes.
But his gaze, when Rolleen managed to catch it at the breakfast table, was troubled as he watched his daughter chatter with her grandmother.
Rolleen couldn’t have said why it was so important to her that Gavin accept his daughter, and not just accept her, but love her wholeheartedly again. Maybe it was because she had been rejected as a child herself and knew what it felt like to walk in those tiny shoes. And maybe it had something to do with the hope that refused to die inside her that she and Gavin might someday be more than good friends.
She might love Gavin, she was almost certain she already did, but if he couldn’t love her unborn child, there was no future for the two of them. However, if Gavin could learn to love Beth again, there was hope he could learn to love the child growing inside her.
Rolleen was putting her faith in the power of love. It could heal all wounds. It was the source of all joy. And if ever there was a time when love abounded, Christmas was the season for it.
Gavin’s daughter had trouble sitting still at the breakfast table, she was so excited, and the instant Beth had taken the last bite of food on her plate she asked, “Can we open presents now?”
The little girl bounced her way into the living room, with Rolleen and Gavin and Hester following behind. She dropped to her knees on the rug beside the Christmas tree, her eyes going wide at the sight of the shopping bag full of presents Rolleen had brought along.
“Whose presents are those?” Beth asked, turning to her father.
Rolleen sat down cross-legged beside Beth and said, “I brought them.” She reached into the bag and came out with a gaily wrapped present. She checked the tag and said, “This one’s for your daddy.”
She saw Gavin’s startled look from the couch, where he had taken up residence. “I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“I know,” she said with a smile as she handed it over to him. “But I had fun coming up with a present for you.”
“Open it, Daddy!” Beth urged, bouncing up and down in place. “Open it!”
“Well, open it, boy!” Hester said, from her comfortable seat on a cushioned wooden rocker by the fireplace. “We want to see what it is.”
Rolleen suddenly felt nervous. “I wasn’t sure what to get for you so I—”
“Whatever it is will be—” Gavin stopped in mid-speech and stared at her gift.
“What is it, Daddy?” Beth asked, jumping up and crossing to him to get a better look.
Gavin was so absorbed by what he held, Rolleen realized he hadn’t even noticed Beth was standing beside him, her hand on his knee. As close together as their faces were, Rolleen could see the child had none of her father’s features. Apparently Susan hadn’t been lying when she’d told Gavin the child wasn’t his. But the longer Rolleen watched, the more similarities between the two she noticed.
Beth tilting her head as Gavin did when he was studying something intently. Beth pointing at the gift with two fingers, instead of one, the way Gavin had on occasion. Beth’s brow furrowing with concentration, mirroring the look on her father’s face.
Gavin stared at the small, oddly shaped, beribboned, cork-stoppered bottle, looked up at Rolleen and said, “What is it?”
Rolleen laughed and crossed to sit beside him on the couch, pulling Beth into her lap. “The bottle contains salt water and sand from the beach where we had our picnic at Padre Island. It can be a paperweight or—”
Gavin cut her off with a hard kiss on the mouth. “Thanks, Rolleen.”
Beth was off her lap in the next instant and running for the shopping bag to pull out another gift, leaving Rolleen still staring at Gavin. “I thought you might like a memento—”
He kissed her again with enough passion to leave her breathless, then turned to his grandmother, held it up and said, “It’s love in a bottle.”
Rolleen’s heart was in her throat. She had felt that way when she put the gift together for him. She hadn’t realized it would be so obvious to him. She felt self-conscious having him make such a pronouncement to his grandmother, considering the circumstances.
“What a lovely gift,” Hester said to her. “Just the sort of thing a prospective bride
ought to give her husband.”
Rolleen felt her stomach roll. Not now. Please, not now. She swallowed once, twice, then said, “Gavin!”
He took one look at her, bolted to his feet, grabbed her hand and raced for the closest bathroom.
“What’s wrong with Rolleen?” Beth cried.
“She’s going to have a baby!” Gavin said as he raced by.
“Right now?” Beth called after him.
Over Gavin’s shoulder, Rolleen saw the worried look on Hester’s face as she called Beth to her side and said, “No, not right now.”
Rolleen felt better after she emptied her stomach, but as she lay on the bed in Gavin’s bedroom with a cool, wet cloth over her forehead, she wondered what Gavin was telling his grandmother. Revealing her pregnancy to Hester had been no part of their plan, although she supposed they should have realized she might get sick—as she had.
Rolleen heard a soft knock on the door and Hester called, “May I come in?”
She sat up too quickly, saw spots and laid back down before she said, “Please do. I’m sorry to be such a bother,” she apologized as Hester crossed the room.
“Are you feeling better?” the older woman said as she sat beside Rolleen on the bed.
“I sat up too quickly just now, but I’m almost as good as new,” Rolleen said, as she tried again, sitting up slowly and carefully. She saw Hester glance at her stomach, gauging how far along she was, and said, “The baby’s due in May.”
“You two planning to get hitched before then?”
Rolleen felt the blood race to her head, heating her cheeks. “We haven’t set a date yet.”
“You couldn’t do much better than that boy,” Hester said. “He’s a good man. And a good father. Leastwise, he was before that woman he was married to broke his heart.”
“You don’t have to tell me Gavin’s a wonderful man,” Rolleen said. “I’ve seen it for myself.”
“Then why haven’t you been to see a preacher?”
Rolleen threaded her fingers together to keep herself from fidgeting and stared at them as though they held the answer she sought. She sighed, looked up at Hester and said, “This isn’t Gavin’s baby.”