by Vivian Arend
It wasn’t right to add any sorrow to a day that should be nothing but wonderful for two people who had come through their own moments of hurt. So Laurel held in her sadness, smiling at the appropriate times, hugging Nicole fiercely while pretending she wasn’t grieving over Gabe and Allison’s loss.
She skipped out of the celebration breakfast early, heading to the hospital to see if Allison needed anything.
Laurel found Gabe leaning against the wall outside Allison’s room, face held stiff, dark shadows under his closed eyes. He’d clearly been crying, and to see the strong man reduced to such misery churned her gut all over again.
She must’ve made a noise because he glanced up, offering a wan smile. He opened his arms and she rushed forward to hold him tightly. “I’m sorry.”
He patted her back, and she stood there until he let go.
“Thanks for coming,” he said. “Not much we can do, though.”
“Just knowing she’s not alone will help.” Laurel hesitated only for a second. “Do you need someone to talk to? I mean, maybe not me, but my dad, or anyone else? I’ll help however I can.”
Gabe brushed at his eyes before nodding slightly. “I’ll let you know.” He cleared his throat and tilted his head toward the door. “Let me check if she’s up to seeing you.”
Laurel waited in the hallway as helplessness overtook her. The next strongest emotion was that cold, aching rock inside of sadness and guilt that she’d worked so hard over the past couple years to move on from.
There is nothing anyone can tell me that will make me believe that this is part of your plan, she told God. I refuse to believe it. The world is broken, and bad things happen, and it sucks, but this as your will for two people who wanted their baby so badly? Never.
The door opened and Gabe gestured her in, guiding her to the bedside. He leaned over and gave Allison a kiss. “I’m gonna grab a coffee while Laurel’s here.”
“You should go home and get some sleep,” Allison insisted, adjusting the blankets higher.
“Just a coffee. Doctor said he’d be back by noon. I’ll stay until he sees you.”
Gabe left reluctantly, Allison sighing deeply as the door closed behind him. “That man is going to break my heart all over if he’s not careful.
“He loves you,” Laurel said quietly.
Allison nodded rapidly, tears in her eyes. “Thanks for coming.”
The despair on the other woman’s face threatened to choke Laurel. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t help, but there’s nothing I can say that will make this better.”
“I know.” Allison reached for the box of tissues, grabbed out three or four then passed the box to Laurel who did the same. They took a moment to blow their noses and calm down before trying to talk.
“It’s funny, I didn’t feel as if things were going well this time. I had a miscarriage before Micah, and the whole time I kept denying that this pregnancy felt the same as that one.”
Laurel shook her head. “Sometimes there are no warning signs. Our bodies shut down, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”
And if she’d given away too much by sharing that, she didn’t even care. Right now was about Allison, and if Laurel’s secrets needed to be laid out in public to offer even a touch of comfort, she’d face whatever fallout came with it.
Only Allison hadn’t caught Laurel’s slip of the lips. She sat with her eyes closed, her face twisted with emotional pain.
“You know what’s the worst? Knowing I’ll have to deal with the stupid, hurtful comments. The well-meaning people who say things like ‘you’re young, you can have more babies’. Or the ones who tell me to be happy with the little boy we already have. Because as much as I love Micah, it doesn’t mean I haven’t just lost a piece of my heart.”
Laurel held her hand and let Allison talk.
“She was a girl,” Allison shared, her voice shaking as she continued. “And damn if it isn’t the stupidest thing ever, but all I keep thinking of is now I have two babies in heaven with my mom, and I know she’s taking good care of them for me.”
They both lost it.
Laurel wrapped her arms around Allison, and the two of them cried. Cried for what might have been. Cried for the pain of having nothing but questions instead of answers.
Allison and Gabe had lost something precious that day, and Laurel wept for them. But she also wept for herself, because while she’d vowed that she was strong enough on her own, she really wished Rafe knew everything. That sometime before today she’d told him her secrets so he’d be able to comfort her and hold her tight.
To whisper that she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Do me a favour?” Allison spoke softly, her soul-deep tiredness coming through in the words. “If they keep me in for another day like they were talking about, can you go stay at my place and take care of Micah tonight? I know Gabe is there, but he’s going to want to be with me, too, and Dana will offer to help, but I don’t want Micah over at the…”
Laurel nodded. She wouldn’t want her child in the same house as Ben for any length of time either.
“I’ll take care of everything,” she promised. “You take care of yourself and Gabe, and I’ll do the rest.”
Allison let out a low, slow sigh, and they fell into silence, their hands linked until Gabe came back.
It was time to let them have some privacy, so Laurel got ready to head out. She pressed a kiss to Allison’s cheek. “Let me know if you need me. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”
The other woman nodded, her gaze darted to where Gabe was hanging up his coat on the far wall of the room before whispering to Laurel. “I don’t care if it’s not official, but to me you’re already a sister. Thank you.”
Laurel didn’t remember leaving the room or heading to the parking lot. Everything vanished into a white-cold haze until she dropped into the seat of her car and sat there, numb, staring into space. It seemed as if every hard and hurtful thing she’d dealt with over two years ago rushed back with a vengeance.
If she hadn’t miscarried, her baby would have been over a year and a half old now. And the guilt inside, and the sadness she’d faced on her own, sprang up again.
Allison would never have to deal with being alone, and for that Laurel was grateful.
Her phone vibrated in her hands as a text came in.
Rafe: you okay?
Laurel thought about the different answers she could give him. She could share how broken she was seeing Gabe with his heart on his sleeve. She could say how much guilt rolled through her at the choices she’d faced before they’d been torn away from her.
How did you text a million doubts? How did you put into a few words and an emoticon that the world sucked, and yet…
Gabe had wrapped Allison in his arms. That was love. Allison trusted her with baby Micah—that was love as well. For all the hurts they faced in life, when there was love, it made a difference.
But there was no way to express that to Rafe without telling him things that weren’t his burden to bear. So she wrapped the dark, painful emotions up like she’d done so many times before and pushed them into as small of a bundle as she could.
Laurel: I’ll be okay.
It wasn’t completely a lie, but it sure wasn’t the entire truth. Not yet.
Chapter Twenty-One
It took a while for things to turn around. Winter days might move at a slower pace at the ranch, but Rafe worked his ass off to give Gabe as much time as possible to spend with Allison and Micah.
The secretive family meetings seemed to be put on hold, and there wasn’t as much laughter in the Angel Coleman household when he stopped in, not until later in December when Allison insisted on having him and Laurel over to go cut down a tree.
Gabe fussed over Allison until she gave him hell.
“I’m bundled up more than Micah is. I’m not an invalid,” she snapped before offering an apology. “If you want to make my day, how about you hook up the sleigh? We can ride
out to get the tree.”
So they hitched up a pair of horses, festive bells on their reins. Micah’s eyes widening as Gabe lifted him up to show him the horses’ holiday trim.
Rafe and Laurel sat in the front to drive, Gabe in the back holding Allison and Micah in his arms as they took the sleigh over the hills to the east of the cozy log home in the trees.
“Where are we going?” Laurel asked.
“We tagged some trees in Gabe’s Folly last summer,” Allison said. “They should be the right size to pick from.”
“Gabe’s Folly?” Laurel questioned Rafe.
Rafe held the reins in one hand so he could loop the other around her. “The chunk of land we traded with Uncle George a few years back, while you were gone. Everybody thought it was as bad an exchange as buying Alaska, but it turned out pretty good. We got to go organic there the following spring instead of having to wait like on the rest of our land.”
Little bits of history shared. Little memories built. They loaded up a couple of Christmas trees and brought them back to decorate, sharing time together as the season turned.
For once Gabe put down his foot and announced there would be no Angel Coleman gathering on Christmas Day. “Not this year. We’ll do something simple with Ma, and we’re going to get together with Allison’s brother and sister at the restaurant so there’s no cooking or cleaning for any of them.”
Rafe considered doing something more official on Christmas Day to make his mom happy, but when he thought about deliberately spending time with his father, the idea choked him.
Ben rarely showed up to work these days, and never over at Gabe’s anymore. It just meant that Rafe’s workload was heavier, and every time he did run into his father on the ranch he got an earful about how stupid every decision Gabe made was, and how Ben would have done things differently.
Rafe got good at turning around as fast as possible to escape anytime he spotted his father.
He was concerned about Laurel. Her usual cheerfulness seemed dimmer these days, as if the grey days of winter were taking a toll. Then she’d perk up and he’d have his sunshine back—joining him for television in the evenings, or dancing at Traders on Friday nights.
It was Laurel who came up with the idea that saved the holiday. “There’s a Christmas dinner at the church on Christmas eve,” she suggested, holding up a hand before he could protest. “Your mom will feel comfortable there, and if you show up, that can be your Angel Coleman Christmas time with her.”
The church was the one place Ben would never come.
Rafe leaned in and kissed her. “Brilliant woman.”
He wished he’d have thought of it years sooner. The food was delicious and plentiful, and his mom glowed with happiness as people around her offered good wishes and exchanged little presents.
They were done the main meal and heading toward dessert when his mother leaned in close. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I know this isn’t your thing.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’d do anything for my best girl.”
His mom offered a soft laugh. “I don’t think I have that title anymore.”
Rafe looked around as if in shock. “What, you think you see someone who can replace you? Never.”
His mom’s laughter faded rapidly. She poked him in the side before gesturing across the table to the far side of the room, her hand discreetly hidden under the table. He followed the line of her finger to discover Laurel, her hand full of plates, trapped outside the kitchen door by Jeff.
A flash of anger filtered through his Christmas cheer. “Excuse me.”
“Rafe,” his mom warned. “Be nice.”
He rose to his feet and smiled down on her. “I’ll be nice. I’ll be so nice he won’t know what hit him.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” his mother offered before shooing him away and turning back to her neighbour.
Rafe figured that was her signal to tell him she wasn’t watching. Which meant he could do anything he wanted.
Jeff had to be the most oblivious son of a gun out there. The man refused to give up. Rafe marched up to him and slapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard. He might’ve heard bones creak.
“Jeff, my man. Merry Christmas.” Another squeeze.
The young pastor gingerly twisted to remove himself from Rafe’s grasp. “Rafe. Good to see you.”
Yeah, bullshit on that.
Jeff held his hand forward, and this time Rafe gave into temptation, shaking harder than necessary.
Only the bastard fought back, dirty. Jeff casually wiggled his fingers at his side, but made a dig the only way he could. “Laurel and I were discussing the plans we have this year for different ministry opportunities. We’re going to do one of the studies we worked on together.”
“That’s nice,” Rafe said as casually as possible. “Plans you have…together?”
“I’m hoping she’ll come on board as one of the teachers.” Jeff offered his most professional smile, and Rafe wondered if the man practiced in front of a mirror. “We’ve worked well together in the past.”
“I need to get these to the kitchen,” Laurel excused herself, giving Rafe a warning glance before she pushed the door open with her back and escaped.
He didn’t need the warning—
Well, maybe he did, because it was tempting to lift a hand to Jeff’s chest and slam him into the wall. Not the wisest move, and definitely not the proper place. Right smack dab in front of a gathering of over fifty, some of whom were watching with great curiosity.
Figures. Their little “situation” couldn’t have gone unnoticed with the small-town gossips. He refused to call it a love triangle like he’d overheard at one point, though. There was nothing love-like about either Laurel or his relationship with the man.
Now if they could convince Jeff of that. He was like a dog with a freaking bone…
“I think I’ll slip into the kitchen and help.” Jeff tipped his head, his eyes flashing slightly. “You go ahead and rejoin the visitors. I’ll take care of Laurel.”
Rafe caught himself a second before he nabbed the other man around the throat. Instead he leaned in and placed a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. Gentle, though. No smashing him into anything.
“You want to go somewhere to have a private discussion?” Rafe asked, casual violence in his voice. “Or do you have plans for the rest of the holidays that require your teeth?”
The other man narrowed his gaze. “Threats?”
“Promises.” Rafe stepped back, tipping an imaginary hat before stepping around him and entering the kitchen. He joined Laurel at the sink, hip checking her lightly to get her to move over so he could take over the washing.
She stared at him with suspicion. “What’re you doing?”
“Washing dishes,” he said innocently.
“Good grief.” She tucked herself against his side and lowered her voice. “You’re supposed to be having dinner with your mom.”
“I was, and as soon as you’re ready, we can both go have dessert with her.”
“You’re a pain in the butt,” she noted. “This is about Jeff, isn’t it?”
“Who?”
“Don’t tempt me, Coleman. I’ve got a sink full of soapy water only two inches away from you.”
He chuckled. “Just get your chores done so we can go spend time with my mom.”
It was only a few minutes later when Laurel took him by the hand to guide him out of the kitchen, choosing a side door that brought them into the hallway outside the banquet room. Private. Quiet.
Laurel stuck a finger in his face. “I don’t need you to defend me,” she scolded him, and then before he could protest, she caught him by the shirtfront and tugged him toward her, “but I appreciate that you care.”
She kissed him gently. Lips brushing his before she pulled away and offered him a brilliant smile. “Let’s go eat some pumpkin pie with your mom.”
Rafe didn’t even bother gloating when they walked past Jeff, hand in hand
en route to the dessert table.
Well, maybe he gloated a little.
The Coleman Boxing Day gathering was held at the Whiskey Creek ranch. It was the section of Coleman land Laurel had spent the least amount of time, and she kept rubbernecking, trying to take in the new sights.
It was difficult with the sheer number of people in the area. Ashley hadn’t been joking when she mentioned the celebration would be chaos. There were only a couple dozen direct relatives, but everyone seemed to have brought along a friend or two, and their children, and extra parents, until the whole place was noise and laughter.
The oldest of the Whiskey Creek girls approached her, a pitcher in one hand and cups in the other. “Hey, Laurel. Want your cider with a kick?”
“Think I’ll stick to the plain stuff.”
Karen gestured toward the sidewall. “Over there. We’ve got enough visitors around today we decided to keep tabs on the alcohol. Don’t need the Six Pack nephews sneaking their friends into the spiked drinks.”
“Spoilsport,” Laurel teased.
She got a burst of laughter from the other woman in return. “Rafe said the same thing a few minutes ago.” Karen paused. “By the way, he’s headed outside with some of the kids. I think they mentioned the tobogganing hill.”
Laurel had insisted on coming on her own—her family didn’t do a big official Sitko gathering on Boxing Day, but she’d gone over to her mom and dad’s that morning and made them pancakes. Just a quiet meal with the three of them, easy and comfortable.
At least until the topic veered into dangerous territory.
“It was good to see Rafe join us at the church for dinner Christmas Eve,” her mom mentioned innocently between sips of her coffee.
“He and his mom, yes.”
“Dana Coleman’s a good woman,” her dad said. “One of the pillars of the community.”
“Is Rafe planning on coming to church this year?” Corinne adjusted the plate in front of her. “It would be nice to get to know him better.”
“He doesn’t have to come to church for that to happen,” Laurel pointed out.
