“Mommy felt better for a long time.” Shay’s voice was painfully matter-of-fact. “Then she got sick again.”
“I’m not going to...” She paused and then said, “This had nothing to do with cancer.” She wanted to tell the girls she wouldn’t get sick again, but how could she make that promise? Yes, it had been more than five years since her diagnosis and the odds were good that she’d be fine. But she lived with the knowledge that her cancer could return at any time. She couldn’t commit to Ranie and Shay for the long term. How could she take the chance on these two beautiful girls being forced to watch her battle the same disease that had claimed their mother?
She cleared her throat and pasted a smile on her face. “Tell me about what you’ve done in the past couple of days.”
Shay bounced up and down on her knees. “We baked cinnamon bread and played card games. Connor knows one called poker and I’m really good at it.”
“Great,” April muttered with a laugh. “He’s turning you into a card shark.”
“She’s got skills,” Connor said from the doorway. Shay dropped off her lap and Ranie stood as he carried in a tray. “Although it’s a little early to decide on a career as a professional poker player.”
“I can’t be a poker player.” Shay pushed her hair away from her face. “I’m going to be a cancer doctor when I grow up,” she told them. “So no one else will get sick.”
April swallowed back her emotion and smiled. “Your mom would be proud of you,” she whispered. Was there no end to this girl’s ability to slay her?
Connor waited for her to get comfortable on the bed and then placed the tray across her lap. It held a steaming bowl of chicken soup, a glass of juice and a piece of toast on a small plate. Her stomach grumbled as the comforting scent of soup hit her.
“Ranie did most of the work,” Connor told her.
The older girl shrugged. “I like to cook, and Connor helped.”
“I cut vegetables,” he said with a laugh. “That’s prep work.”
“Ranie’s going to be on the Cooking Channel,” Shay said, bouncing up and down.
April spooned up a bite of soup. She closed her eyes to savor the flavors of garlic and roasted vegetables. The warm broth soothed her chafed throat as she swallowed. “It’s delicious,” she told the girl, and was rewarded with a wide smile.
“You have your mother’s smile,” she whispered, and Ranie gave a small nod. “Thank you again,” April said, taking all three of them in with her gaze, “for all you’ve done the past few days. I feel so...” She wouldn’t say loved even though that was the truth of it. “I feel so lucky.”
“Now that you’re better,” Shay announced, trailing one finger over the edge of the quilt. “You should maybe take a bath. You kind of—”
Ranie clapped a hand over her sister’s mouth, but April laughed. “Trust me,” she told the girl. “I can smell myself, and that’s bad.”
Shay grimaced. “Real bad.”
“After the soup, it’s off to the shower for me.”
“Shay, let’s go finish our puzzle,” Ranie suggested. “And you still need to make your bed and get out of your pajamas.”
Shay nodded and then leaned closer to April. “I love you even though you smell.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked out of the room. Ranie rolled her eyes and followed.
April froze with the spoon halfway to her mouth.
“Do you remember what it was like when emotions were that simple?” Connor asked.
April took another bite and a sip of juice before answering. “No,” she said softly. “My parents got divorced before I was a year old. I don’t think things were ever that simple.”
“Emmett loved me like that.” He sank down into the chair in the corner of the room, elbows on his knees and head in hands. “It was pure and constant and I didn’t appreciate it the way I should have. I took both of them for granted, as if their love was my due because Margo had married me and I was Emmett’s father. Like that word meant he was mine forever.”
“He should have been,” she said, and moved the tray off her lap. She got out of the bed slowly, a hand on the nightstand for balance, but found she was steadier after the soup and juice. “I’m sure they both knew how much you loved them.” She came to stand in front of him, reaching out to push the hair off his forehead.
“I wish I’d told them more.” He lifted his gaze to look at her. “The fact that Shay can still say the words so easily is a miracle. Especially when...”
April pressed her lips together. “When I’m going to let them go?”
“You don’t have to—”
“Please, Connor, don’t do this. Not now.” She stepped out of reach when he would have pulled her closer. “I’m going to shower.”
“Are you strong enough?”
There had been many days during her cancer treatment when she hadn’t been strong enough to do more than stare at the ceiling. She wasn’t that woman any longer. “I’m fine.”
In reality, the shower exhausted her. She hated feeling so weak even though she knew it would pass quickly. By the time she turned off the water, she felt dizzy again. She was mustering the strength to climb out when the shower door opened.
A moment later she was wrapped in a fluffy white towel as strong arms lifted her onto the bathroom tile.
Connor turned her to face him. “Can you stand on your own?”
She gritted her teeth and nodded.
Expression serious, he efficiently dried her body and hair and then helped her into a plush terry-cloth robe. She started to protest as he scooped her into his arms, but he whispered, “Let me take care of you, April. Even if you don’t need it, I do.”
She did need it and, more importantly, she wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in a long time. He carried her across the bedroom and gently placed her on the bed.
“You changed the sheets?”
A half smile pulled up the corner of his mouth. “I’m full service.”
She laughed but it quickly turned into a yawn.
“Rest now,” he murmured, tucking the blanket and quilt around her. “The girls and I will be here when you wake up.”
Even if she’d wanted to argue, her eyelids were too heavy. She drifted off to sleep feeling more cherished than she had a right to.
Chapter Nine
The sound of muffled voices greeted April when she woke again. The muted light coming through the window told her it was late afternoon. She must have slept for hours. She swallowed and stretched, finally feeling on her way to normal.
She realized the voices weren’t speaking. They were singing Christmas carols. Climbing out of bed, she retied the sash of the robe and stepped toward the window. This bedroom faced the front of the cabin, and she could see Connor, Ranie and Shay dragging a sled with a pine tree tied to it up the driveway.
Connor was doing most of the hauling, an ax slung over one shoulder. Every few feet Ranie adjusted the tree when it started to drag while Shay skipped next to him, singing at the top of her lungs. All three of them were singing, Ranie’s soft voice complementing Shay’s enthusiastic soprano while Connor sang harmony. It was the most mangled and adorable version of “Joy to the World” April had ever heard.
They’d cut down a Christmas tree from the forest. The three of them were engaging in a Christmas ritual without her involvement. And...she watched a few more seconds...they all appeared to be having a great time.
Her suitcase was sitting next to the dresser, and she quickly put on sweatpants and a roll-necked sweater before making her way downstairs.
Connor was heaving the tree through the door. “Can I help?” she called from the bottom of the stairs.
He turned, his cheeks flushed with cold, and gave her a wide grin. “Yo
u look beautiful,” he said, and she felt a blush color her own cheeks.
Shay ran toward her, wrapping cold arms around her waist for a tight hug. “She doesn’t smell bad anymore.”
Ranie was the only one who looked doubtful. “Are you sure you should be out of bed? What if you have a relapse?”
“It was a virus,” April told her gently. “I’ll be good as new by tomorrow morning. In fact, I feel fantastic now.”
“Okay, then. Good.” Ranie’s shoulders dropped an inch, as if releasing the tension that had held them so tall.
“You can help us decorate,” Shay cried happily. “Will you make hot chocolate? Connor burns it.”
“One time,” he protested, moving closer until he stood in front of April. “I burned it one time.”
Shay shared a look with her sister.
Connor threw up his hands. “What?”
“You make really bad hot chocolate,” Ranie said with a grin.
April raised her brows. “How can you mess up cocoa?”
“Let’s talk about my chicken soup again.”
“You said Ranie did the work on that.”
He made a face. “After plenty of debate, we found the perfect Christmas tree.”
Shay jumped up and down. “I picked it.”
Connor grabbed her and lifted her up high. “I cut it.”
April glanced at Ranie, who sighed. “I supervised.”
“Come on, Ranie,” Shay said when Connor deposited her on the ground again. “Let’s open the box of ornaments.” The girls laced fingers and headed into the family room.
“Ornaments?” April asked.
“The girls found Christmas decorations in the basement storage room,” Connor explained. “We thought it would be a nice surprise for you.”
Heat spread through her, and she crossed her arms over her chest to curb the urge to launch herself at him. She’d always loved Christmas, but having these three to share it with made the holiday even more special. It was funny, but a few days in this cabin and it felt more like a home to her than anyplace else on earth.
“You really are beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in to brush a soft kiss across her lips. He smelled like cold and pine, but his mouth was warm and soft on hers.
“I look like I’ve spent three days puking my brains out,” she said with a laugh.
He smiled against her mouth. “Your hair is clean.”
“Quite an accomplishment.”
He pulled back and glanced over his shoulder. “I need to carry the tree into the family room. There was a tree stand in one of the boxes, so they must have expected someone would celebrate the holidays here.”
“More like leftovers from Crimson Ranch. They weren’t planning on guests at Cloud Cabin. You were important enough for an exception.”
He turned and hefted the tree onto his shoulder. “More like my editor was desperate for me to finish the book.”
“And?” she asked, leading the way into the family room.
“I’m close,” he told her, and she could hear the pride in his voice. It was so different from how he’d sounded that first day in the kitchen, and she was grateful to be a part of the change in him over the past week. She only hoped it would last even after he returned to his life away from Colorado.
Ask him to stay.
She stopped as the thought popped into her mind, leveling her with its intensity, and was immediately prodded in the back with the tip of a pine tree.
“Sorry,” Connor said, his voice muffled under the weight of the tree.
“My fault.” She quickly moved into the family room and fisted her trembling hands together. Connor Pierce was a client, nothing more. Maybe more, but not a man she could plan a future around. He’d made it clear he had no room in his heart for anyone other than his wife and son.
April didn’t believe that for a second, but he did and she had to honor it.
She raised her eyes and felt a gasp escape her lips. The cabin’s cozy family room had been transformed into a holiday wonderland. Stockings dangled from the rough-hewn wood mantel while snowmen figurines and nutcrackers were displayed on the bookcase. There were bright and festive throw pillows decorating the sofa and leather club chairs and, in the corner, a space had been made for the tree. A clear tub of ornaments sat next to the metal tree stand, strands of lights piled on the lid.
“I love it,” she said, tears filling her eyes.
“Then why are you crying?” Shay asked, coming over to wrap her arms around April’s waist.
“They’re happy tears,” April told her, running a hand over the girl’s soft hair. Connor propped the tree against the wall and grinned at her.
“I only have happy smiles,” Shay announced.
“Your smile makes me happy, too.” April met Ranie’s bright blue gaze and then Connor’s piercing green eyes. “Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me.”
Pink tinged Ranie’s cheeks. “It wasn’t a big deal. We were kind of bored anyway.”
Connor nudged her. “You just didn’t want to lose to your sister and me at poker again.”
The girl visibly relaxed at his gentle teasing. “You should stop corrupting me,” she muttered. “I’m an innocent kid.”
“Come on, kid,” he said, “and help me get this tree in the stand.”
When April stepped forward, he shook his head and pointed to the couch. “Sit down until we’re ready for ornaments. You still need to take it easy.”
“Have you always been so bossy?”
“Not at all,” he told her with a wink. “You bring it out in me.”
Shay took April’s hand and led her to the leather sofa. The family room was a bigger version of the one in the caretaker’s cabin. The walls were painted a warm gray and the river-rock fireplace surround went all the way to the vaulted ceiling, giving the room the feeling of a true mountain lodge. The furniture, while new, was overstuffed and comfortable, as if it had been part of the cabin for years. Thick rugs covered the hardwood floors, and both the coffee table and the end table had been built from reclaimed wood.
“I don’t know how to put up a Christmas tree,” Ranie said, her arms still folded over her chest.
Connor bent to adjust the tree stand. “I’m going to lift the tree. Your job is to guide it into the stand.” At Ranie’s dubious look, he grinned. “Trust me, you’ve got this. You’re my Christmas wingman.”
No, April wouldn’t ask him to stay. But her heart would go with him when he left. She couldn’t resist this man who thought he had nothing left to give but continued to break through the walls of a fragile girl as if it were the most natural thing in the world. April had started these two weeks thinking she’d be the one to save these three, but it was Connor who had made the biggest difference. She loved him for it, for the effort he was making and how he made her feel. For the man he used to be and the one he was rediscovering inside himself.
No, she wouldn’t tell him any of that. Instead, she held the knowledge close to her heart, letting the golden light of it warm her and give her strength.
Within a few minutes they had the tree up and the fasteners tightened around its base.
“Just in the nick of time,” she said as Jingle darted into the room and headed for the tree. The branches rustled as the kitten climbed and then poked out his head from midtree height.
“He’s our first ornament,” Shay said, clapping her hands.
“That cat is a menace,” Connor muttered, but was smiling as he reached in and plucked the small animal out of the branches.
Ranie took the kitten and cradled him in her arms. April said a silent prayer that the girls’ aunt would allow them to keep their new pet when they went to live with her in California. Connor’s gaze was a thick weight on her, but she avoided it, shifti
ng to pull the tub of ornaments closer. It would hurt too much to see the censure she knew she’d find in his eyes. The silent suggestion that she keep these girls in Colorado with her. She couldn’t. Or she wouldn’t. Either way, the outcome was the same.
“Lights first,” she said, keeping her tone light. Connor placed his hand over hers and squeezed.
He bent closer and dropped a tender kiss on the top of her head. “Let’s just enjoy our Christmas together,” he whispered. “It’s all that matters right now.”
The words were somehow both a pardon and an apology. Because she wasn’t the only one who was too afraid to change her life. As ashamed as she was at her own weakness, the fact that he could understand and absolve her was a balm to the gaping sore that was her heart. She would hold on to their connection and try to ignore the tendrils of pain waiting to take over when the holidays were through.
* * *
Connor sat on the couch in the darkened family room, staring at the lights on the Christmas tree. Ice clinked as he raised the glass of bourbon and sipped, the liquor burning a path down his throat. The last time he’d had a drop of hard alcohol had been a month after the funeral. He’d woken up, head pounding, in a pile of his own vomit, surrounded by empty liquor bottles.
At some point during his drunken blackout, he’d apparently gathered the framed photos his wife had lovingly arranged around their house and smashed the frames and then ripped apart the pictures inside. The images had been saved digitally and could be replaced, but the destruction had pierced something deep in his soul. It was his job, as the one left behind, to cherish Margo and Emmett’s memory, not ruin the reminders of the life they’d had.
After that, he’d cleaned up his act and gotten healthy. He’d also sold their home and moved to an apartment in the heart of downtown San Francisco. He’d hoped a new location would help him mend all the broken pieces inside him, but he’d only retreated further into himself, willing to make his body healthy but unable to loosen grief’s stranglehold on his heart and mind.
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