“And I do?”
“You’ve made me question my path, my goals.”
“What conclusions have you come to?”
“The jury is still out.”
The temperature in the car soared, and it had nothing to do with the heater. Hope blossomed in Sadie’s heart, and for a moment she allowed it to grow. But then her doubts began to surface. She didn’t think she wanted to be responsible for anyone changing the direction of his life. That put too much of a burden on her.
“I enjoyed going with you to church tonight. Reverend Littleton has a gift for inspiring others.” Andrew pulled into her driveway.
“I love the early Christmas Eve service. The children take such a big part in it.”
“I like the idea of a birthday celebration afterward. Nice way of reminding the children and adults why we celebrate Christmas.”
“It’s still early. Do you want to come in for some coffee—the decaf kind?”
“Love to.”
When Sadie entered her house, the scent of pine and cinnamon assailed her. Her live tree dominated the living room, and the aroma from baking cookies hung in the air. She plugged in the lights before heading for the kitchen to make the coffee. Andrew followed.
“Your home is so inviting.”
“I love to decorate. I probably go overboard.”
“You think?” Andrew scanned the kitchen, filled with Christmas items, from the towels hanging on the stove to the canisters on the counter to the Christmas cards on the refrigerator.
“Okay. I do go overboard. But in my defense, it’s hard not to get wrapped up in the holidays with the students I teach. A lot of the ornaments on the tree are made by them. Every year when I put them up, I think about the students who made them. To me it’s like a photo album of memories. Do you have a tree?”
“No. I’m not home much to enjoy it.”
His words evoked a sadness in Sadie that she couldn’t shake. She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him this Christmas he wasn’t alone. Instead she prepared the coffee, her hands trembling, her throat tight. Andrew had lost his sense of family and home. The day of the fire, his house was not the only thing destroyed.
Dear Lord, help me to guide him back to You. He needs You. He needs to believe in belonging again.
The aroma of brewing coffee spiced the air, lending a homey warmth to the room. Sadie faced Andrew, leaning against the counter. Her smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. “If I had known that, Andrew Knight, I would have brought a tree to your house and helped you put it up.”
“A pine without any decoration would have looked strange in the middle of my living room.”
“You don’t have any?”
He shook his head.
Sadie knew then what she would give him for Christmas, in addition to the mystery she had bought him. “Then you can enjoy my tree tonight and my parents’ tomorrow. They wanted you to come to dinner. I think my father will behave this time.”
“Are you gonna be there?” His eyes crinkled in a smile.
“Yes, and I would love for you to join us.”
“Then in that case, I will.”
“Good.” Sadie twisted to pour two cups of coffee, then handed one to Andrew. “Let’s sit in the living room.”
She opened the blinds over the French doors that led to the patio so they could watch the snow fall. With all the lights out except those on the Christmas tree, the room was dim and cozy, a magical feel to the atmosphere. Sadie sat next to Andrew on the sofa and let the silence between them lengthen.
“Do you have trouble driving in the snow?” she finally asked as the white on the ground deepened.
“No. I may be from New Orleans, but I manage to get around okay. In fact, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning to go over to your parents.”
“I appreciate that. I may be from here, but I don’t do well driving in the snow. I got stuck once on a hill. My car slid all the way down and into a ditch. I had to abandon it and walk to a store to call my father to come rescue me.” The memory blazed across her mind, reminding her of yet another incident where she hadn’t quite lived up to what her father had thought she should be able to do. He hadn’t been pleased that she had interrupted his writing time.
“That can happen to anyone.”
“Yes, I suppose it could,” she murmured, pushing the memory into the background. “But still you’d better not stay too long. I don’t think I could rescue you.”
“I think you could do anything you set your heart to.”
Sadie placed her half empty mug on a coaster on the coffee table. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m still not gonna get out in this weather to tow you out of a ditch.”
“Chicken.”
She looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, and proud of it.”
His laughter wove its magic about her. In that moment she knew the possibility she was in love with him was a reality. She also realized her heart would probably be broken by this man.
He put his cup down, too. “I think I’d better go. I wouldn’t want to be tempted—to call you if I needed to be pulled out of a ditch.”
She rose at the same time he did. They stood a foot apart between the sofa and the coffee table with little maneuvering room. “I—” She swallowed several times. “Will you go with me to the teacher banquet in a few weeks?”
“The one where they announce the teacher of the year for your school district?”
She nodded, acutely aware of the man so close she could reach out and touch the lines of his face.
“I’d love to. And when you win I intend to embarrass you with my applause.”
A blush heated her cheeks. “I might not win. There are some good teachers up for the honor.”
He moved closer and clasped her upper arms, his fingers rubbing circles. “If you don’t win, that’s their loss.”
She thought for a moment he was going to kiss her, but instead he squeezed by her and walked toward the front door. On the porch he stopped and glanced at her.
“Drive safely, and call me when you get home.”
His eyes widened for a few seconds. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.”
“Then there’s a first time for everything.”
She watched him get into his car and pull out of the driveway. She waved to him, then waited until he was at the end of her street before she went into her warm house. She leaned against the front door and closed her eyes, imagining him with the snow falling around him, his footprints to his car marring the pristine white landscape.
She wanted him in her life. Would he disappear like his footprints in the continuing snowfall? She felt her heart crack with the answer.
Chapter Eleven
“I should have realized you had an ulterior motive when you insisted I bring my heavy coat.” In Sadie’s parents’ foyer, Andrew zipped up his jacket and fitted his gloves on his hands.
“Trust me. You’ll enjoy this. When I was growing up, I couldn’t wait for a snowfall. I got out of school, but I also got to play in the snow. Everyone should at least once in his life build a snowman.” Sadie tugged open her parents’ front door and stepped into the crisp, cold air.
“I suppose if this was summer you’d have me running around catching fireflies and putting them in a jar.”
“Oh, no. I don’t believe in that. But I do like to watch them on a summer’s night.” She paused on the porch and scanned the blanket of white, the snow muffling any sounds.
“So where are you going to build this snowman?”
She quirked a brow at Andrew. “Me?”
“You don’t seriously expect me to roll balls of snow around on the ground, do you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, all right.” He exaggerated a sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”
“You don’t have to act like this will be torture.” Sadie marched down the steps and trudged into the yard. “We’ll put it here.” She bent over, packing some snow into a ba
ll, then she began to roll it along the ground.
Andrew watched her for a good minute, then followed her lead. “I hope no one from the office drives by.”
“This is a dead-end street. I think you’re safe.”
Fifteen minutes later Sadie had the bottom part done. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she swiped her gloved hand across her brow. “I forgot how much work this was.”
“I thought we were playing.” Andrew lifted his large snowball and placed it on top of hers.
“We are. Sometimes playing can be hard work.”
“Are we through?”
“We are if you want a headless snowman. Tell you what, go inside and ask my mom for a carrot and a box of raisins. I’ll finish the last part.”
“And have your mother think I’m crazy? No, you go inside and get those things. I’ll make the last ball.”
“Mother’s used to strange requests from me.”
“Now that doesn’t surprise me.” Andrew started on the last snowball.
Sadie hurried inside and found the food she wanted to make the face. On her way out she noticed her father stacking logs in the fireplace. She loved sitting in front of a warm fire after being outside in the cold. She couldn’t wait to share the cozy moment with Andrew and give him his presents.
When she emerged from the house, she found Andrew positioning the last snowball. He stepped back to examine his efforts. Sadie stuffed the carrot and box of raisins in her pocket, then leaned over, scooped up a handful of snow and packed it into a ball. Straightening, she threw it at Andrew. The snow sputtered against his overcoat. She quickly made another and aimed for his chest. The ball hit him in the side of the head because he moved at the last moment—toward her.
“I didn’t mean to hit you in the face.”
He kept coming, his intentions to get even clearly written in his expression. “That’s okay. And I’m not gonna mean to do what I’m gonna do.”
“What’s that?” She squeaked the words and took a huge step back.
With lightning speed he closed the space between them, barreling into her and sending her into a snow pile. “This.”
His massive body covered hers for a few seconds before he rose and offered her his hand. She gathered some snow and hurled it at his chest. His eyes widened, then narrowed on her.
“I was trying to be a nice guy, but this is war. I still remember the paint incident at play rehearsal.”
Quickly he made several balls, then launched them at her. One hit her in the back as she scrambled to her feet, the other on her leg as she ran toward the porch. He stalked her, bending down every few feet to form another snowball and toss it at her. She managed to dodge the third one, but the fourth ball got her in the chest.
“Uncle! Uncle!” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Andrew had stopped his pursuit.
He was still coming with a relentlessness that must pay off in the business world.
She almost made it to the front door when he halted her escape inside.
He leaned close and whispered, “Where are you going? We haven’t finished what we started.”
“That depends on what you’re talking about.”
“The snowman. What else is there?”
His breath tickled the skin below her earlobe. She trembled, even though sweat ran in rivulets down her face. “You’re not going to throw any more snowballs?”
“I won’t if you won’t.”
“A deal.” She released her hold on the doorknob and turned toward him. He smashed a ball into her face.
“You lied.”
“I didn’t. I didn’t throw a thing.”
She wiped the cold snow from her while peering at his other hand to make sure he didn’t have anything in it.
“We’re even now.” He backed away, holding his arms out. “I’ll be good unless you decide to take me on again.”
“I’ve learned my lesson. You fight dirty.”
“I fight to win. I learned that long ago, Sadie.”
His words, spoken with a hard edge, embedded coldness like a sweeping blizzard deep inside her. She needed to remember that. He was after the presidency of IFI, and nothing and no one would stand in his way. Heartache chipped at her composure.
Sadie quickly finished the snowman, arranging the carrot for the nose, two pieces of bark for the eyes and the raisins for the mouth. After sticking two broken limbs for arms into the middle snowball, she stood back and inspected their creation. He leaned to the left, and the balls weren’t proportional, but she didn’t care. Andrew and she had made it together, and even with his grumbling, she suspected he hadn’t minded. He could play when forced to.
A cold breeze sliced through her, reminding her that her backside was wet from lying in the snow. She shuddered and hugged herself. “I think I need to get inside and warm up.”
“I probably should be going soon. I certainly enjoyed the dinner. I appreciate your parents including me.”
“And this time my father behaved himself.” Sadie started for the house.
“Have you talked to him yet?”
She halted, as stiff as if a cold wind had ripped through her and frozen her. “I haven’t found the right time.”
“Don’t wait too long, Sadie.” Andrew came up beside her and took her hand. “I’ve never told anyone this, but my dad and I had a fight the evening of the fire. I ran up to my bedroom after shouting at him that I hated him. I never got to tell him I loved him, that I didn’t mean what I’d said that night. I would give anything to be able to take those words back. But I can’t, and it’s too late to ask him to forgive me.”
She grasped his other hand. “He knew you loved him and he forgave you. Children say things they don’t mean. Parents know that.”
“It doesn’t change the way I feel. There’s an emptiness inside of me that I can’t fill.”
“Seek God’s guidance. He’ll help you fill that void.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible. I’ve lived so long with this hollow feeling.” He brought their clasped hands to his chest, covering his heart.
“You’re always welcome to go with me to church. The children love you, and Reverend Littleton is a wonderful listener. Look what he was able to do with my parents.”
“Maybe your dad was ready and just needed a push.”
“And maybe you’re ready. Faith is a great healer, Andrew.”
He cupped her face. “I’ll think about it if you’ll think about talking with your father.”
“That was our deal.” Emotions swelled in her parched throat. “Now, I have something for you, and I can’t wait another minute to give it to you.”
“You got me a present?” Surprise laced his voice.
“Yes, I like to give presents to my friends.”
He slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small wrapped box. “So do I.”
“You got me a present?” The same surprise was in her voice as she took the gift from him.
“I started to give it to you ahead of time, but then I remembered you saying something about unwrapping presents before you should then rewrapping them so no one knew you peeked early.”
“So you took the temptation away from me. Now that’s what I call a friend.”
Inside Sadie shed her overcoat, gloves and hat, then opened the closet door to retrieve his gifts. She handed them to him. “Let’s open them in the living room.”
When Andrew stepped into the room, he froze, every line of his body tensing. His gaze was riveted to the fire raging in the hearth. Emotions flooded his face, usually so controlled.
He swung around and left. “I can’t.”
Sadie hurried after him and caught him in the foyer as he was shrugging into his coat. “I’m sorry about the fire. I wasn’t thinking. I should have said something to Dad about it. We always burn a yule log on Christmas Day.”
“And you should. It’s part of your tradition.”
“Please don’t leave just yet.”
He inhaled
a deep breath and held it. “I don’t usually look back, and these past few days I’ve done more reflection than…” His voice faded into silence as he glanced away from her. “I can’t stay, Sadie. I need to be alone.”
He wrenched open the front door and walked away, leaving her staring at his retreating figure. She wanted to run after him; he had thrown up a barrier between them, erected over the years to protect his heart. Tears blurred her vision as she swung the door closed and felt the emptiness of the foyer.
Then she remembered the gift he had given her, still clasped in her hand. She carefully unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Beautiful gold earrings with hearts dangling from hoops lay nestled in red tissue. A small card was in the lid.
Sadie read the words, and her tears ran down her face. To a lady with a heart of gold.
Andrew sought refuge in his house with not one Christmas decoration to adorn its sterile decor. He slowly turned in his living room and scanned his possessions. The oak furniture was utilitarian and simple. The tables were devoid of knickknacks. The room reminded him of any number of suites he’d stayed in while traveling for business. Nothing personal. Nothing to tie him to the place. That was always how he’d wanted it—until now. Until Sadie. Now he dreamed of more.
But he wasn’t good at relationships. For years he’d kept his emotions so tightly bottled up inside him that he’d lost the ability to express his true feelings. Because of that he certainly couldn’t see himself getting married. With Sadie that would be the only way.
His gaze fell to the two wrapped presents she’d given him. He didn’t make a move toward them, afraid to open the gifts because they would be personal—not like those he received from acquaintances and business associates. The presents on his coffee table mocked him, demanding to be opened.
He reached for them, a slight tremor in his grasp. He picked up the flatter of the two and quickly tore the paper away to reveal a mystery book by a popular writer. He flipped open the book to find that Sadie had inscribed a message to him. For the day you decide to take a vacation and relax.
His chest felt tight, each breath he inhaled searing his lungs. The tight lid on his emotions popped off, and a few leaked out.
Family for Keeps & Sadie's Hero Page 33
