The Christmas Room

by Catherine Anderson

  “The poor thing. I can only imagine how she must have felt.”

  Cam appreciated that response. It took heart to understand how hard life might be for a girl during an accidental pregnancy. He also admired Kirstin for not feeling any trace of jealousy. If their roles were reversed, Cam wasn’t certain he could have been so magnanimous. “I have an older sister, Grace, who’d already gone off to college, so I didn’t really understand younger girls and how sensitive they can be.” He shrugged. “I tried to reassure her. I tried to be romantic whenever I could be with her, but my days were pretty crowded, and I had to work on weekends. My dad was willing to help me financially, but he wasn’t willing to give me a full ride. He made sure I had time to study and time to sleep. But I had a wife and a baby on the way. I needed more time to be at home. But Dad refused to let me ignore my responsibilities. I had to man up.”

  Kirstin smiled and rolled her shoulders. “That sounds eerily familiar. I think men of that generation often set impossibly high standards, not only for their kids, but for themselves, too.”

  Cam nodded. “My mom tried to talk to Dad and present my young wife’s side. How she was feeling. That she needed special attention from me that I didn’t have time to give her. But Dad just said it was time for her to grow up, too, and accept her responsibilities just as I was. She’d chosen to take risks, she’d gotten pregnant, and she had to face the consequences. He was fond of saying, ‘If you play, you have to pay.’ I understood where he was coming from. I truly did. But sometimes I muttered under my breath that he was a heartless prick.”

  Kirstin giggled. “Well, Cam, in a way he was. But did you ever stop to think that, in his mind, it wasn’t his responsibility to raise your wife? That maybe he was more concerned about molding you into the man he wanted you to become?” She pointed a slender finger at him. “I think he succeeded. You’re a dutiful son and a caring father. You thought about the impact on Caleb if we got together tonight. Do you know how refreshing that is in a world where there are so many careless parents?”

  “Caleb is my responsibility. At his age, I have a limited capacity to influence him, but I try to be a good role model. Tomorrow night is our flick night. Even my mother sets aside time for that. We take turns choosing movies. Caleb and I like adventure and action.”

  “Don’t tell me! Your mom likes to watch Forensic Files or something like that.”

  Cam burst out laughing. “You’re so right. Her brain is like a sponge. I tease her about it, but mostly I enjoy watching with her. I learn a lot, and so does Caleb.”

  Her expression went wistful. “Dad and I barely talk at night. Some nights I join him for dinner. We can’t entertain each other over a meal with accounts of our day, because we experienced it together. Sometimes he’ll mention something I missed out on, or vice versa, and we’ll engage. But mostly our shared meals are silent. Sometimes the silence is deafening. I can hear him chew. He can hear me. Do you know how loud a swallow can be at a quiet table? I’m so frustrated and bored sometimes that I want to scream.” She dimpled a cheek. “Listen to me, hogging the conversation and making it all about me again.”

  “You’re speaking to a fascinated audience,” Cam told her. “And of course you’re frustrated and bored. You’re young. You enjoy people. Your father is what? Sixty-eight, I think you said. After a hard day, he’s content to go home, eat, and read. You want conversation, laughter, and excitement.”

  “Don’t forget sex.”

  “Nope, I won’t forget that. It happens to be on my mind right now a lot more than I’d like.”

  Her cheeks colored. “Mine, too. But you know what’s nice? We have such great things to talk about that I don’t think about only that.”

  Cam understood what she meant. Sexual tension was there, but with Kirstin, he got the whole package: great conversation, laughter, and a sense of friendship that had deepened each time they were together.

  She finished her margarita. Cam signaled the bartender that they’d like another round. “We aren’t driving. Why not?”

  She grinned. “Can we get arrested here for walking under the influence?”

  Cam chuckled. “God, I hope not. Although, as it pertains to my son, if I’m going to get arrested for any infraction involving alcohol, I prefer to be walking. I never want Caleb to drink and drive.”

  “So you limit yourself to one drink when you know you’ll have to get behind the wheel.” She nodded. “I like that. It’s smart, safe, and admirable. And you’re setting a great example.”

  After chatting for another hour, they walked to their hotel. Soft lighting illuminated the sidewalks. The night breeze, unlike in Rustlers’ Gulch, smelled faintly of gas fumes, and cars moved busily past them, even so late at night. Occasionally couples emerged from nightspots or restaurants that were still open. Cam had rented two rooms on the same floor. They had already checked in. They held hands as they entered the lobby and went up in the elevator. Kirstin’s suite was six doors down from his.

  As much as Cam yearned to spend the night with her and even though he had picked up some protection, he didn’t want to rush this. Kirstin led a pretty secluded life, and he didn’t want to hurt her if he began to feel she wasn’t right for him. Although, after talking with her so much, he couldn’t imagine that ever being the case. Everything about her seemed to suit him.

  At her room, he kissed her good night, a long slow joining of mouths that made him yearn for more, and he could tell by her response that she felt the same way. The sparkle in her eyes also told him she’d noticed his arousal. She leaned her back against her still-locked door. “You’re a fabulous kisser. And I’ve enjoyed this evening so much.”

  Cam replied, “Not as much as I have.”

  She went up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. I’ll be awake and ready to leave at six thirty as we agreed. Gotta get back to the ranch early so Dad doesn’t get in a snit.”

  After she used her key card and vanished into her room, Cam stood in the empty hall, wondering if he was certifiably nuts. She’d looked so beautiful all evening, wearing Montana’s version of casual dressy: a flashy pink Western shirt that hugged her figure, boot-cut jeans, and riding boots. No man in his right mind could have failed to think about making love to her, and many would have followed her into the suite. He’d thought about it all evening, yearning to do just that, but Kirstin wasn’t one-night-stand material. She deserved a man who considered her feelings, respected her, and moved cautiously forward. How many times had he told Caleb that girls weren’t objects, but people with feelings? If he couldn’t do as he preached, what kind of man was he?

  Cam walked slowly to his room. He had a hunch that he was facing a very long night.

  Nearly an hour later, he lay awake staring up through the darkness at a ceiling he couldn’t actually see. He jerked when a light knock came at his door. Sighing, he sat up. He knew it was Kirstin, and he wasn’t sure what to say when he answered her summons. That he was a father and had to live like a saint? Except he wasn’t a saint. He’d been with women over the years, but none of them had worn their hearts on their sleeves. He was afraid Kirstin was, and he suspected that hers was a very tender heart.

  He grabbed his jeans and drew them on. “Coming.”

  Not bothering with a shirt, he opened the door. She stood in the lighted hallway, looking adorable. She wore an overlarge buttoned-front nightshirt with an image of a red merle Australian shepherd on it. Her shapely, slender legs were encased in snug jeans. Her silky black hair was tousled from her pillow. Under the wash-worn top, her small breasts looked soft, except where her nipples pressed against the fabric. His urge to grab her arm and pull her into the room was so strong that he clenched his hand over the door handle.

  She licked her lips. “I—um—can’t sleep.” Her blue eyes implored him. “Please don’t send me back to my room. I understand that you’d like to move slowly, Cam, and I
know that’s probably wise. But my body isn’t feeling very wise right now, and I—”

  I can’t let her stand out there, pleading with me, Cam thought. Especially not when I want this as much as she does. Cam clasped her hand, drew her inside his room, and closed the door. After he locked the dead bolt, she threw her arms around his neck, kissed him with hunger, pressing her body against his, and blew every rational thought from his mind.

  • • •

  Afterward Cam felt deliciously exhausted and content. Kirstin snuggled against him like a kitten, her bare skin igniting his. He smiled. Judging by the response of his body, the night wasn’t over, and he had to admit that this was a hell of a lot better than taking a cold shower. He turned toward her. She tipped her chin back to meet his gaze.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re sorry,” she whispered. “I know this wasn’t part of our plan.”

  “Kirstin, I’ll never say I’m sorry for tonight. Being with you was the most beautiful experience of my life.”

  “Almost perfect.”

  His gaze sharpened on hers. “Not completely perfect?”

  “Oh, no! Being with you was perfect, absolutely perfect.” She let her eyes fall closed. “I just can’t stop thinking about our parents. While we’re falling in love, they’re quarreling like ill-behaved children.”

  Cam stiffened. “What makes you say that?”

  She punched her pillow. “Because it’s true. I wish they’d both grow up.”

  “Can you make that singular? My mother has done nothing, absolutely nothing, to incur your father’s wrath.”

  She pushed up on her elbow. “I’m not saying she invited him to go over and insult her. It’s just”—she released a tight breath—“that today she kicked him off her property.”

  Cam blinked. “She did what?”

  “You heard me, and then she threatened to call the cops if he trespassed again.”

  “What the hell would have possessed her to do that?”

  “Dad says he went over to apologize for his behavior yesterday. He told her he was out of line, and she’d done nothing to deserve how he’d treated her. Or something to that effect.”

  “Good for him. Sounds okay so far. So what led to my mom kicking him off our place?”

  Kirstin sighed again. “Apparently he said you were the one he wanted to beat to a pulp, and in the process he called you a less-than-nice name.”

  Cam’s chest jerked. He couldn’t help it. A laugh pressed hard against the base of his throat, and then it exploded from his chest.

  “This isn’t funny. For all my dad’s faults, and they are presently legion, he’s respected in this valley, and nobody—I do mean nobody—has ever dared to kick him off their property. And according to him, she also threatened him.”

  “My little mom threatened Sam Conacher.” Heat rose up Cam’s neck. “I’m sure he was frightened half to death.”

  Kirstin sat up. “Are we about to have our first fight?”

  Cam pushed up beside her. “That depends on you, I guess. Your father has been obnoxious to my mother. And now you’re defending him.”

  “I’m not defending him. He’s been horrible to her, and I don’t deny that. But he isn’t used to being threatened. So now he’s totally pissed. Your mom isn’t in the wrong. He has no right to call you names when he’s on her property. I totally get how she must have felt. But all that aside, Cam, my father is now gearing up to wage war, and damn it, for the first time in my whole life, I’m happy with a man. How do we have a chance in hell of building anything between us when our parents are at each other’s throats? This isn’t about them; it’s about us.”

  Even in the dim light, Cam could see that her whole body was trembling, including her beautiful breasts. He yearned to pull her into his arms and comfort her. She had a point; this was about the two of them and not about their parents. But he found it hard to believe that his mother had been in the wrong. She always erred on the side of being polite. He couldn’t imagine her kicking anyone off her property.

  “Can we both calm down and talk about this? My mom isn’t the sort of person to kick someone off her land for no good reason. I know her inside and out.”

  “Well, my dad has lots of faults, but lying isn’t one of them. And he’s very offended.”

  “Maybe he deserved to be offended.”

  “You know what, Cam? I didn’t start this to place blame on anyone. In fact, it doesn’t really matter to me who was at fault. What matters is that our parents are declaring war on each other, and that’s going to make it really difficult for us.”

  “I understand. It just bothers me when you act as if my mother was rude to your father without good reason.”

  “I didn’t say she had no reason. I only said that my father is unaccustomed to being kicked off someone’s property, and he’s furious.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s always furious about something.”

  “I shouldn’t have come to your room.” She sprang from the bed, flashing her bare bottom at him as she started grabbing her clothes.

  “Kirstin, please, let’s discuss this.”

  “Not when you’re unable to discuss it rationally because you think your mother’s a saint.”

  “Oh, ho-ho.” Cam was starting to get really angry now. “Did you just imply that I’m a mama’s boy?”

  “If the shoe fits . . .” She bent to draw on red French-cut underwear; her lingerie was her one concession to fancy. Then she jerked on the tight jeans, doing a hip wiggle that made his mouth go dry. “Sorry, Cam. Sing your mom’s praises to the wall. I can’t handle hearing it. This isn’t about what drove her to do it. It’s not about how furious he is with her. It’s about how their childish shenanigans are going to ruin things for us.” She struggled to button her jeans and gave up. They slipped back down over her hips. “I’m falling in love with you. It’s important to me that we get a fair shot at making this work. I wanted us to come up with a game plan.”

  Cam’s surge of anger died quickly. “Kirstin, you’re not alone. It’s premature for me to admit it, but I’m developing deep feelings for you, too.”

  She straightened with her jeans still gaping open to reveal the swatch of lace that covered what he considered every man’s gate to heaven. “Premature? Oh, great. I’m sorry if I rushed you into this.”

  Cam strove to keep a clear head. “You didn’t rush me, not exactly. I simply know from experience that it’s not wise to move forward too fast. Then you knocked on my door and all my good intentions to play this smart went out the window.” Wrong thing to say. He knew it the moment he spoke. “Kirstin, please. Let’s back up.”

  He saw by her stricken expression that he’d injured her pride. “I am so out of here!”

  She’d barely gotten her shirt halfway on when she slammed out of his room.

  • • •

  Cam threw on his clothes and walked barefoot up the hall to Kirstin’s room. Her door was closed, but he could hear her inside, throwing things around. She was in a high temper. And Cam honestly couldn’t blame her. No woman wanted to think she’d rushed a guy into going to bed with her. If the situation were reversed, he’d have been humiliated and hurt. Anger was sometimes the only defense a person had.

  He knocked softly on the door. He doubted she’d answer, but in a moment, she jerked the portal open against the chain lock, sending a resounding thump up and down the hallway. It had to be at least one in the morning. It’d be just his luck that someone would place a domestic violence call to the cops.

  “What?” she asked. Her pretty face twisted. Her dark blue eyes swam with tears. “Say it, and just leave.”

  Cam had never meant to hurt her. “I’m sorry. You’re beautiful. I feel like the luckiest guy in the world to have been with you tonight.”

  “Yeah. And what about the premature part?”

  He wi
shed he could sit down and talk to her instead of baring his soul through the crack of a door. “I tend to be cautious in relationships, Kirstin, but that has nothing to do with you or how I feel about you. I’m the guy that knocked up his girlfriend when he was seventeen, and she divorced me before our baby was born. Remember? It was the shortest, most miserable marriage on the planet, and now she’s messed up, treating husbands as if they enter her life through a revolving door.” He passed a hand over his eyes. “I can’t help but wonder if our brief entanglement damaged her somehow. So maybe I’m a little scared, not because you rushed me into anything, but because I’m finding it really, really hard to put on my emotional brakes. Does that make any sense at all to you?”

  More tears sprang to her eyes. “Say you just acted like a jackass, and I’ll let you in.”

  Cam shoved his hands into his pockets. “I just acted like a jackass.”

  A door opened down the hall, and an older man jutted his balding head out. “Hey!” he shouted. “I agree with her, buddy. You’re a jackass! Go to a shrink. Call a help hotline. I don’t give a shit, but let the rest of us sleep.”

  Kirstin clamped a hand over her mouth. Her cheeks went bright red. Fabulous, Cam thought. Now she’s laughing and crying at the same time. She finally recovered enough to unfasten the chain. Cam pushed into the room, half afraid guys in blue uniforms would spill out of the elevator.

  Kirstin closed the door softly behind him. Cam walked to the bed and sank down, noticing that she had almost finished packing her small overnight bag. He couldn’t help but wonder how she’d planned to get home. They’d come in his truck.

  “Where were we?” he asked, because he honestly couldn’t recall how they’d gone so swiftly from passion to fighting.

  Kirstin bent her head and said, “Oh, my God. I put my head through an armhole, one arm through an unbuttoned section of the front, and one boob is poking out the neck.”

  Cam started to laugh. Her breast was poking out. Angling an arm over the feminine protrusion, which did little to hide it, she started to laugh, too. Then she plopped down on the edge of the bed beside him.