Romancing the Holidays Bundle 2009

by Susan Wiggs et al

  “I told Morgan I’d work with you behind the scenes. I’m not going to the actual celebration,” he said. Then he saw how crestfallen she looked.

  “But,” Abbie protested, “it might make you feel better….”

  Shrugging, Colt set the empty cup aside. “I’m not good company, Abbie.” Her name slipped off his tongue like hot, smooth honey. He liked the intimacy they shared right now; it was unexpected, and healing to his tangled emotions. “I nearly ripped your head off a little while ago at the door. Think what kind of damage I could do at a party.” One corner of his thinned mouth hitched upward as he attempted to make a joke out of his present condition. He saw her eyes grow tender. His heart opened even more.

  “I understand, Colt. I really do.” Without thinking, Abbie reached out and touched his thick, hairy hand, which was resting on the table. “Its okay. You do what you can and don’t apologize for the rest.” Her fingertips tingled where she’d grazed his taut, hard flesh. There was such a dangerous quality to him. Yet Abbie felt protected and secure in his presence, not scared. Colt Hamlin, even if he was bleeding emotionally from his last mission, had a big enough heart to reach out to her, human to human. And in Abbie’s book, that was something she needed and rarely received.

  Picking up the swag, she began to weave the red ribbon through the boughs, which had been bound together with copper wire. “Whatever help you can give me, I’ll be grateful for,” she whispered. “Right now, you need to take care of you—first.”

  Colt studied another bough, on his side of the table. He laid it aside and then scooted the chair back and rose. Picking up the empty cups, he walked over to the drain board and set them down. Turning, he gazed back at Abbie as she worked effortlessly with the swag. There was high pink color in her cheeks. She looked beautiful to him, like a red-haired fairy princess, with nature all about her. And she was a biology teacher to boot. Moving back to the table, he sat down. As Abbie lifted her head, he said, “Why don’t you show me how to weave this thing?”

  “Oh, Colt, you don’t have to! I just need some help moving the boxes filled with finished swags to the car.”

  He gave her a slight, one-cornered smile. Picking up a swag, he rasped, “I want to help you, Abbie. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to cash in my chips and slink back to the condo.”

  Brightening, she grinned. “A glutton for punishment.”

  “Maybe…” But he didn’t think so. No, for better or worse, Colt craved Abbie’s sunny presence in his dark pit of a life. She made him feel hope when he’d believed he had nothing to hope for ever again.

  Chapter 2

  December 21—Day 1

  Abbie tried to still her fluttering heart as Colt Hamlin drove them expertly through the slushy, snow-covered streets, heading toward Morgan and Laura’s huge cedar home outside of town. The snow was thickening, turning the sky a gunmetal-gray color. All around them rose the Rocky Mountains, silent and clothed in white, with dark evergreens at their base. It was a beautiful sight. Glancing distractedly out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Colt was paying strict attention to his driving. The roads had been salted earlier to melt the ice, but they were still messy.

  Pushing her fingers through her unruly hair, Abbie said, “Laura said you fly for a living?”

  Nodding, Colt glanced at Abbie for a moment, taking in her dark green wool coat, her hands in brown leather gloves, as she sat in the passenger seat of the van. “Yeah, I’m a chopper pilot.”

  Abbie didn’t want to pry, yet her curiosity about this stalwart, silent warrior was eating away at her. They were leaving the town limits and heading down a small dirt road covered with slush. “You know Jason Trayhern, their firstborn son, is at the Naval Academy right now? Well, he wants to be a pilot in the worst way. A Marine Corps fighter pilot.” She smiled fondly and settled her hands in her lap. “His grandfather, Chase Trayhern, was a pilot in the Korean War. I guess Jason got the flying genes from him.”

  “The Navy has set tough standards for jet fighter pilots,” Colt warned heavily. “Marines go to naval flight schools to be trained. When I was in the Marine Corps, I went for the same thing.” His mouth quirked as he slowed the van down. The road was now enclosed by huge Douglas firs that stood like silent sentinels around them. Colt had been to the Trayhern home before and knew the way. He noted that someone had dumped gravel on the well-traveled dirt road, improving driving conditions. “Only I didn’t make the grade, so they gave me helicopter duty instead.”

  “You were disappointed?”

  “Sure I was.” He maneuvered the van deftly around a slight curve. “I hope young Trayhern doesn’t have his sights set too high. I’ve seen a lot of guys ruin their lives because they didn’t get jet fighters. Sometimes you have to adjust to what life gives you versus what you think life owes you.” He grinned tightly and glanced over at Abbie. She was watching him raptly, her wide, trusting eyes luminous. There was something so incredibly gentle and nurturing about her. He found himself wanting to blather on to her about anything and everything that flitted through his mind and lay in his tightly guarded heart.

  “Jason is a very troubled young man,” Abbie admitted slowly. Her thin, arched brows fell momentarily. “That kidnapping wounded him in a way that Morgan and Laura just can’t manage to heal.”

  “I heard from some of the other mercs coming through the office here that Jason was in trouble in high school. You were his teacher, right?”

  “Yes, and Jason was very rebellious. His parents, of course, were hoping he would get A’s in everything so he could make a run for the Naval Academy appointment. You know only two people from each state are chosen to go to the academy every year?”

  “Yes. It’s by Senate appointment, and your grades had better be 4.0 or better.”

  Opening her hands, Abbie said, “Jason started to rebel in his freshman year of high school. He was angry and he was a loner. He was always getting into fights with the bullies, always standing up for kids who had no one to defend them.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Better than being a bully himself.”

  “Yes and no. Jason has a strong protective streak for the underdogs, but you can’t go around punching bullies out…which is what he did with great regularity. And in today’s schools, any kind of aggression hits a hot button, so he was in a lot of trouble.”

  “Did he get suspended?”

  “Yes. It really hurt Morgan, who has so many hopes and expectations pinned on his son. You know, the Trayherns have a proud military tradition that goes back two hundred years or more. Every firstborn son goes to a military academy, if possible. And with Morgan being branded a traitor to the U.S. during the closing days of the Vietnam War, and not being able to defend himself for years after that, or clear his name, the public still remembers the stain on the family.”

  “That’s enough of a dark cloud for any teenage kid to be carrying around,” Colt muttered, “much less a parent’s expectations that he make the Naval Academy. No wonder he’s rebellious. I would be, too.”

  Sighing, Abbie said, “I love Jason so much. He’s like the child I never had….” She lowered her lashes. “Ted and I wanted kids, but he was sterile. Maybe that’s why I love my kids at school so much—I can mother them, instead.” Abbie gave a strained laugh.

  Her laugh sounded hollow to Colt, who divided his attention between driving along the serpentine road and absorbing the pain he saw banked in Abbie’s turquoise eyes. His heart contracted, and that surprised him. In the last year, he’d deliberately hardened his heart and fought against feeling, because of his assignments over in the Kosovo region. The needless, ongoing killing over there had torn him up no matter how hard he tried to remain immune and disconnected from what he saw. Focusing on her soft, trembling lower lip as she admitted the painful secret to him, Colt took his hand off the steering wheel and reached out.

  “I bet you’d be a great mother to any kid.” His fingers closed momentarily on her shoulder and squeezed gently be
fore he returned his hand to the steering wheel. “So, did you get hold of Jason and straighten him out?”

  Beneath her heavy coat her flesh tingled where Colt had unexpectedly touched her, sending an ache through her breasts and a warm ribbon of heat down through her body. Surprised by his unexpected and tender touch, Abbie absorbed his craggy profile as he drove. “Yes. Even though I only taught the eleventh grade, I had a biology club for all kids at the high school. Jason has a great interest in anything to do with nature, so I had a parent conference with Morgan and Laura, and presented my ideas to them. They were relieved, really. They were at their wits’ end about how to handle Jason. Morgan was so afraid he was going to blow any chance of getting into the academy. They knew his problems stemmed from the kidnapping. He’d gone through therapy—the whole nine yards—to resolve it, but nothing has helped him.”

  Colt’s mouth twisted. “Men have a nasty habit of stowing all their dark crap very deep inside themselves and then sitting on it.”

  Up ahead he saw the huge cedar complex and slowed down. There were a number of SUVs, vans and pickups in the gravel parking lot outside the residence, and he swung the van in among them. Snow was falling thickly, and the gold-and-russet-colored log home of the Trayherns looked like a Christmas card, surrounded as it was by evergreens.

  “No kidding.” Abbie laughed. She melted beneath his intense, warm perusal for a moment after he parked the van. “I took him under my wing and gave him special projects. He blossomed, and he was able to talk to me about things he wouldn’t to his parents.”

  Shutting off the engine, Colt sat back and gazed over at Abbie. She looked more like a wild child than a prim and proper schoolteacher. And he could see why Jason would have naturally gravitated to her; Abbie’s warmth, openness and gentle nurturing qualities would draw anyone starved for those things. Hell, Colt was drawn to her for the same reasons! “And he settled down after that?”

  “Mostly, yes. Oh, Jason had his moments. I mean, what teenager doesn’t? I gave him an outlet and a reason to funnel all his energies into something he loved. By the time he graduated, he was carrying 4.0s and received the appointment.”

  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, an
d 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.