Colt measured her with a warm look. “So, they owe you big time.”
Abbie released her seat belt and opened the door. “If it hadn’t been for them, I don’t think I’d have survived, when Ted suddenly died two years ago, Colt. I was so devastated. They helped me pick up the pieces of my life and put it back together. No...the Trayherns, as you well know, love, care for and support their friends as well as those who work for them.”
She saw Colt’s dark, straight brows gather before she slid out of the van, the snow softly falling around them. Opening the sliding door, he picked up the first bulky box of pine bough swags. Colt thought about the devastation he had seen in Abbie’s eyes over her husband’s death.
As he trudged alongside her up the walk, when they reached the front door, which was decorated with a huge pine wreath covered in pinecones and gold lamé ribbon, he halted at her shoulder, looking down at her as she rang the bell.
“For whatever it’s worth, Abbie, I’m sorry you lost your husband. I can see you had a great relationship. Those are the hardest to lose....”
Tucking her lower lip between her teeth, Abbie felt his warmth encircle her. For all his granitelike hardness, Colt was surprising her with his gentle side. “Thanks... He was my best friend, too....” Rallying, she forced a slight smile she didn’t feel as she drowned beneath Colt’s hooded, smoldering gaze. “That’s behind me now. Laura says I have to get on with my life. I have to start living again. That’s why I’m going to go to this Christmas celebration. For two years I haven’t. Oh, I’ve helped Laura with the decorating, but I just didn’t have the heart to be there. I didn’t feel like smiling or laughing....”
The door opened and Laura stood there in jeans, a red angora sweater with a cowl neck, and dark brown oxfords. Her face lit up with joy. Throwing her arms around Abbie, she looked up at Colt. “Merry Christmas! Welcome, Colt. I’m so glad you could make it. Come on in! We’ve been expecting you!”
Colt tried to remain immune to the festive, cheery atmosphere within the huge, eight-thousand-square-foot cedar home, but it was impossible. Soon he was on a ladder helping to hang the swags. Another merc by the name of Wolf Harding stood on the other ladder as they fastened and hung the pine garlands around the octagon-shaped living room. Christmas music was playing in the background as everyone helped ready the room for the festive kickoff event of the Five Days of Christmas celebration: dancing and a jazz band.
Colt knew everyone there. Maybe it was the fact that he knew the mercs and their wives that made him feel more at ease. The crew was pitching in to help make the living room into one huge dance floor. The butter-yellow leather furniture was moved near the walls, beneath the large windows. Swags graced the top of each window and dipped gracefully between them, really bringing out the Christmas atmosphere.
Colt had one helluva time keeping his mind on hanging swags. He wanted to watch Abbie; he was starved for her in ways that completely threw him off his guard. The wives—Shah Randolph, Sarah Harding and Susannah Killian—sat with Laura and Abbie in the middle of the room on the gleaming hardwood floor, making last-minute plans for the dance tonight. They looked like colorful, animated birds to Colt. More than once he keyed in on their low, conspiratorial whispers, little-girl giggles and outright raucous laughter as, cross-legged, they huddled in a circle.
When Abbie got up, went to the kitchen and brought back a tray of hot chocolate and freshly made chocolate chip cookies for him and Wolf, his heart melted. He got off the ladder along with Wolf and consumed a half dozen of the warm cookies as well as the thick, chocolaty drink piled high with whipping cream. Wolf grabbed a couple more cookies and went over to talk to the women.
Abbie held the tray in her hand as she stood next to Colt and surveyed the men’s handiwork. “It looks beautiful, Colt. You guys did it up right.”
An unwilling smile tugged at his mouth as he sipped the hot chocolate. “Thanks. Maybe we were inspired by the nice job you did making these swags. They’re works of art.”
Smiling up at him, Abbie saw that the hardness that had been in his expression earlier was dissolving. The fact that Colt knew the other mercs, Sean Killian, Jake Randolph and Wolf, probably helped. There was a tight bond, an obvious camaraderie between Perseus mercs. And that same rapport flowed to their wives and children, she knew. She was getting a firsthand reminder of it, and it felt fortifying to her newly healed heart.
Abbie was trying to find any excuse to be in Colt’s company, she realized. That surprised her. Men had not interested her in the least since Ted died—until now. And the gleam in Laura’s eyes when she had nudged her in the ribs to comment about how happy Colt looked for the first time since he’d come off his mission made Abbie assess that observation.
Somehow, she was having a positive effect on Colt, she decided. He’d arrived so uptight and withdrawn. Now she thought she could see a glimmer of happiness in his glacial gaze. She wasn’t sure what was making him happy. Men often blossomed when around their own kind, and here in this warm, Christmassy environment, Colt was with three of his cohorts. Men always felt better in a group, especially when there was a bunch of women around. Yet Colt had given her many furtive looks throughout the last few hours as she sat with the women planning the myriad details. And every time he looked at her, Abbie felt his laserlike gaze moving over her like an incredibly warm, wonderful blanket. When Colt looked at her, she felt safe...and loved....
Loved? Abbie jolted inwardly at that realization. No. That was impossible. Automatically, she touched her cheek, which was heating up with a blush at that last spontaneous thought. Yet as Colt finished off his hot chocolate and handed her the white mug painted with colorful red-and-green plaid ribbons, and their fingers touched, Abbie saw his eyes darken like the sky before a coming storm. But it wasn’t a scary storm...it was a storm of promise, and her heart fluttered wildly for a second.
“Thanks for feeding the animals,” he teased, one corner of his mouth lifting.
Laughing softly, Abbie took the cup. She wanted to remain in contact with him, but decided it wouldn’t be wise. “You are hardly animals.”
“I think mercs see themselves as animals,” Colt murmured philosophically, resting his hands on his hips, because if he didn’t, he was going to reach out and touch Abbie’s flyaway red hair. He itched to run his fingers across that coppery-gold mass of curls that framed her gentle face. He saw so much in Abbie’s eyes: unsureness, joy, fear.... Fear of what? Him? Trying hard not to pressure her with his interest, Colt wondered what was going on.
When he looked up, he saw Laura Trayhern studying him with a maternal smile on her lips. She nodded, as if in approval, and then turned and walked to the kitchen with the rest of her planning team, a knowing look in her eyes. Knowing what? Colt wondered obliquely.
“Uh...” He cast around for the right words. “Are you going to the dance tonight?” Abbie probably had a boyfriend. How could she not have one? She was such a sunny beacon of light to anyone lost in the darkness. Simply being in her presence lifted his depressed spirit unaccountably, and he felt like a thief stealing her sunlight because he was so destitute of any within himself. His time in Kosovo had stolen his soul and left him feeling hopeless and emotionally eviscerated.
Abbie avoided his piercing gaze. “The dance?” Her skin prickled pleasantly beneath his intense inspection. They stood only inches apart. She found herself wanting to turn and move into his strong, supportive arms. Somehow, Abbie knew Colt would open his arms to her, pull her against him and hold her. Simply hold her. There was such a powerful protective energy around him; she automatically sensed he’d be a wonderful father to his children. And a wonderful husband to her. Egads! Where had that thought zinged out of? Suddenly panicked, Abbie didn’t understand what was going on with her. She was having such an irrational, emotional reaction to Colt.
“Yes, the dance.”
Stepping away, a little breathless, Abbie whispered, “Oh, no...I’m not going....”
�
��Why? You’ve probably got every single guy in Philipsburg standing in line to take you.”
Touching her blazing cheek, Abbie jerked her gaze from his. “No...” She laughed, embarrassed. “The wallflower of Philipsburg? I’m afraid you’re wrong, Colt. No, I don’t have anyone....” She grimaced, hating to admit it.
“But you said you were going to attend the celebration this year. Why aren’t you going to the dance?” Colt found himself stunned that Abbie had no man in her life. Hope soared through him. He suddenly felt like a lobo wolf on the trail of finding someone who could ease his loneliness. Abbie. Beautiful, carefree, childlike Abbie, whose smile was sunshine pouring into his devastated soul.
Turning, Abbie forced herself to move a few feet away from Colt. He was too accessible and was opening up to her in a way she could barely say no to. “Well, uh, I just...it’s the past, Colt. I know it’s been two years, and Laura says its time to move on, but I don’t know....”
He stood there, hearing her pain and indecision. “If someone asked you to the dance, would you go?” His heart stood still.
Abbie hung her head, her lower lip tucked between her teeth as she considered his question. Was he asking her? No, that was impossible. Did she want to go to the dance with Colt? Oh, yes! At the mere thought, her heart responded wildly. Casting him a confused look, Abbie whispered, “I know how plain I am. I don’t have a model’s body, my hips are wide and I’m slightly overweight.”
In that moment, Colt felt the doors of his heart swing wide-open. She was so gut-wrenchingly honest. Stepping up to her, he settled his hands on her slumping shoulders. “You’re not overweight. You’re just right, Abbie. You have wide hips to carry a baby easily.” He moved his fingers gently on her shoulders. “Babe, you aren’t plain. I wish you’d quit thinking that about yourself. Any man would be crazy not to appreciate what you bring to his table.” His heart thudded with fear, but Colt forced out the words he thought he’d never say to a woman. “Will you come to the dance with me tonight? Can I pick you up at nine?”
He saw the shock cross her face as she lifted hers to meet his eyes. “You...you want to take me?”
In that moment, Colt wanted to strangle whoever had ingrained in Abbie the belief that she was plain and overweight. Could it have been her husband? The kids at her school? Her parents? He didn’t know, but he wanted to convince her otherwise. Giving her his best, charming smile, he rasped, “Yes, I want to take you to the dance tonight. I’ll pick you up at nine. No arguments.”
* * *
The soft jazz music wafted across the crowded dance floor. Abbie sighed and moved slowly, deliciously, in Colt’s arms. There were at least seventy-five people in attendance. The children were laughing and dancing with one another, and with various adults. The Trayhern home rang with happiness. The odors of baked cookies, cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate added to the festive atmosphere. Many people were dressed in red, green, gold or silver, and in Abbie’s eyes, they looked like bright Christmas ornaments moving around the dance floor.
She felt Colt’s arms tighten momentarily on her waist as he swung her around. How handsome he looked in a white cashmere sweater, burnt-sienna corduroy jacket and black wool slacks. She saw where he’d nicked himself shaving, a small cut along his rock-hard jaw. There was such a merry glint in his normally frosty eyes that she found herself drowning in them like a dry sponge in search of water. How long had it been since a man looked at her like that? Wanted her like that? Too long, a little voice whispered inside her heart. Sliding her fingertips along the shoulder of his jacket, she smiled up at him.
“I’m glad you asked me, Colt.”
He preened. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Thank you...”
“You look beautiful in that emerald velvet dress you’re wearing.” And she did. In her hair was an orchid affixed with a bright, apple-green ribbon. The orchid, she had told him earlier, was a cattleya, one of her favorite species. It was a white blossom with a bright green lip and scarlet polka dots along the inside. She had gathered up her curly copper tresses and tamed them into a soft arrangement away from her face. The tiny gold-and-pearl earrings she wore, along with a similar pendant, set off her natural beauty.
“That orchid really makes you look like a wild child,” he teased. The music was low and soft. Colt was having one helluva time keeping Abbie at arms length as they danced. He saw many of the mercs and their wives dancing, their bodies melded together. He wanted to meld his to Abbie’s, but knew it wouldn’t be right.
“Thanks...” Abbie whispered. The look Colt gave her was warm and filled with pride. “Tonight I really feel beautiful. Sort of like Cinderella.” And she did.
Colt’s smile was deep as he met and held her uplifted gaze. “You know how I see you? Like a red-haired fairy princess—maybe an Irish sprite—dancing from one orchid to another. That’s quite a nice little greenhouse you have out back of your cabin. I don’t know much about orchids, but walking in there tonight and seeing their beauty...well, I can understand why you love to raise them.”
Sighing, she turned and eased a little closer to Colt. How badly Abbie wanted to lean her full weight against him and simply relinquish herself to his strong, caring arms. Colt’s tenderness was surprising. She gloried in it. “There’s one orchid I particularly love, but it’s so expensive I’ll never be able to afford it—ever—on my teacher’s salary.”
“Oh?” He saw her eyes light up with sudden enthusiasm. When she moved slightly closer to him, he picked up on her nonverbal signal and drew her more deeply into his arms. The emerald dress she wore was provocative and yet simple in its elegance. It had a scooped neckline, and from the empire waist, which outlined her small breasts, the skirt flared gracefully down to her ankles. The velvet material felt good beneath his hands. How badly he wanted to explore her more.
“You saw the framed print of the orchid in my living room earlier tonight? The one hanging on the wall behind my couch?”
Colt nodded. “Yeah, the white one with the hot pink and gold markings? I think you called it Cattleya rex?”
“That one. Yes.” Abbie sighed languorously. “They call that orchid the ‘treasure of the Incas.’ It’s found only in Peru, high up in the jungle near Machu Picchu, an archeological site that has wonderful Incan ruins. I would give my right arm to have one!” She laughed. “You saw how beautiful they are—the white petals of the orchid so huge and then that gorgeous central lip spilling out with those fuschia and gold colors. It reminds me of a Christmas tree, it’s so breathtaking!”
Spinning her around, Colt absorbed her joy and excitement. The look in her eyes was something to behold, and it made his heart skitter—with happiness. As the music died away, he stopped and opened his arms reluctantly to allow Abbie to step back. To his surprise, she didn’t move very far from him, or let go of his hand.
Morgan and Laura Trayhern walked up to the band podium. As Colt and Abbie turned expectantly, a hush came over the room. Colt saw young Jason Trayhern, dressed in his spit-and-polish, dark blue naval uniform with shiny brass buttons, following his parents rather reluctantly. Colt looked down at Abbie, whose attention was centered on the Trayherns.
“Jason is looking a little stiff and starchy.”
“He hates being the center of attention. Really, he’s very shy underneath it all.” Abbie clasped her hands to her breast. “But doesn’t he look handsome in his uniform! He’s in his second year at the academy. I’m so glad he could get leave and come home! Look how proud Morgan and Laura appear....”
Colt followed his instincts. All around him, couples stood expectantly on the dance floor, their arms wrapped lovingly around one another. Well, he wanted to do the same thing. Mustering the last of his courage and hoping Abbie wouldn’t step away from him, he slowly lifted his arm and placed it tentatively around her shoulders.
Instantly, her head jerked up. Her eyes flared as she stared up at him.
Fear shot through him. Colt almost pulled his arm away in that mo
ment of panic as Abbie’s guileless expression turned to one of shock. And then something crazy happened, something Colt never expected. Her eyes grew soft and he saw tears in them for just a moment, before she blinked them back. He thought she would step away, but instead she gave him a tremulous smile of uncertainty and took a step toward him. Her velvet-covered body met his as she slipped beneath his arm.
Colt couldn’t believe his good luck. He had to be dreaming! As Abbie shyly slid her arm around his waist, his heart pounded. The courage it took her was enormous, he realized, as he drowned in her lambent gaze. Tightening his arm around her small shoulders, he smiled down at her. More than anything he wanted to kiss her parted lips.
Colt had to temper his desires. In a corner of his mind, he realized that this was the first time Abbie had had a “date” with a man since her husband’s death. She was unsure. Maybe a little frightened. He couldn’t blame her, and he wanted to do everything he could to make her feel comfortable. Another thought bolted through his spinning senses: Abbie liked him, or she would not have moved against him or slipped her slender arm around him.
Dizzied by what had just happened, Colt tried to listen as the Trayherns welcomed everyone to the party, then proudly introduced their son. Everyone clapped as Jason moved to the microphone to speak. Colt suspected the young man was uncomfortable, but he assumed a stiff military bearing, thanked them in a confident voice and was even able to smile slightly at his proud parents, who stood off to one side, their faces glowing with pleasure. And then Morgan turned and asked the jazz band to strike up another tune. Colt saw Jason quickly flee the podium, relief on his handsome, square face. How much Jason looked like Morgan! Colt thought. He was a younger version, almost a carbon copy, of his heroic father.
Turning, Colt smiled down at Abbie, who had a wistful look in her eyes. “Ready for another dance or am I tiring you out?”
Laughing, she said, “No, I love to dance! I haven’t done it in so long.” And she melted into his arms. How wonderful it was to slide up against Colt’s hard form. With a sigh, she felt his arms go around her, intimate and claiming. This time, her breasts and hips grazed his solid form. “I’ll probably be so sore and tired that when tomorrow’s skiing venture takes place, I’ll be glad to be manning the food shack and not moving around much.”
A Proposal for Christmas: State SecretsThe Five Days of Christmas Page 23
