by James Lavene
He took her hand away from his arm with cold fury written in his face. "I don't believe you. Was there anything you wouldn't say or do to convince me? Anything you wouldn't have bought, or any trick you wouldn't have used?"
"It wasn't like that," she cried.
"Goodbye Emilie. My father always told me that if it looks too good to be true, it probably is. I just forgot."
Alain was pouring himself a hefty glass of scotch in a cut-crystal glass. "I'm sorry, Emilie. I didn't know."
"How could you know?" She threw herself down on the chair. What could she do? Nick wouldn't listen to her, didn't believe anything she said. Why hadn't she talked to him earlier? Why had she waited?
She could hear the children crying as Nick gathered the two of them to leave the house. Adam was demanding an explanation and Amber was whimpering.
Joda came steaming into the library. "What is going on? Why are the children leaving? What has he done?" She pointed at Alain.
"It wasn't him." Emilie started to explain then brushed by her and went to the foyer where Nick was putting on Amber's boots.
"Emilie?" Adam began plaintively.
"Shh, Adam." She took his hand and looked at his uncle. "You have to hear me out. I haven't done anything wrong besides wanting to love your niece and nephew—and you. You can't leave and throw everything away because of this."
"You can't buy me. I'm not for sale. Not for a big Christmas tree. Not for pretty presents." He glanced at her contemptuously. "Or a pretty face."
"Nick!" She felt as though he’d slapped her.
"Like I told your lawyer." He glanced to the doorway where Alain stood watching. "I wouldn't adopt out Amber to the Queen of England just because she has a lot of money. The same goes for you. I want Amber to have more than just a lot of toys and a nanny. She needs good parents and a home."
"We could give her that home!" Emilie tried to make him look at her. "We have something special between us! We could give the children a good home and two parents, Nick. Just give us a chance!"
"Us? Where did I fit into the plan, except as the obstacle to be overcome? Spare me, Emilie! I admit I was impressed, but I told you to begin with not to expect a relationship. They never work out. People will lie to you, take advantage of you then leave you flat. We both know that, don't we?"
Emilie didn't know what else to say to him. Her heart was breaking but her brain refused to coordinate any kind of effort to save her. She watched him pick Amber up in his arms and take Adam's hand.
"I'll send for our stuff. Thanks for everything."
"Say something!" Joda pleaded, throwing herself at Emilie as the door closed on the little family. "Don't let them walk out! Say something to bring them back!"
"I don't know what to say!" Emilie told her. "He won't hear me no matter what I say to him!"
Joda stared at her then sat down heavily in the chair near the front door. The sound of the truck starting and leaving the driveway was loud in the dead quiet of the old house.
"Emilie." Alain went to her. "If it would help, I could talk to him. I could tell him that I was wrong."
"How would you explain that to him since you thought that I’d sleep with him to adopt Amber?"
"I don't know." He shrugged. "I didn't mean to make you unhappy."
"Never mind." She sighed heavily as she sat down next to Joda who was weeping quietly. "You'd better go. There's nothing you can do."
He got his coat and hat. He started to say something else to the two women hugging each other, but thought better of it and left quietly.
Joda mourned. "They are both gone."
"I know." Emilie cried with her, holding her tightly. "I know."
#
Christmas Eve dawned cold and silent. The sky was as white as the snow-covered ground above the face of the mountain. The night had touched the snowdrifts with a layer of ice that sparkled in the fitful sunlight.
Emilie rose late, feeling haggard and drawn. She'd slept very little the night before and wasn't looking forward to a day of Aunt Joda crying through the house like some pitiful wraith.
She looked out at the winter landscape. The dark mountain rose sharply against the sky. It looked like a picture postcard.
Had other Ferrier women stood at that window and wondered how they were going to survive? Had they wondered how there could be such beauty, and such emptiness?
Emilie thought that David had hurt her—it was nothing compared to the wound that Nick had inflicted on her soul. She realized that she had never loved David the way she did Nick. She had never trusted him that way. Somehow, in her optimism and wide-eyed wonder at finding Nick, she'd left herself open to the worst pain in her life.
How could he believe those things about her? How could he think that she could be guilty of what he had accused her?
Why wouldn't he?
In all fairness, it looked as though Alain was right. Even he, who'd known her forever, thought she might be desperate enough to do anything to adopt Amber.
That either man could think that of her made her angry. Alain should have known better. Nick should have had a little faith. He hadn't even listened to her explanation. If he had . . .
He would've thought the same thing.
Yes, she was guilty of knowing that he was Amber's guardian and using that information to further her own cause.
True, she had invited them to her home to show him that she would be a good mother.
Yes, she had hoped to use whatever means necessary to convince him of that fact.
But she would never have gone that far. She had fallen in love with Nick. For a brief moment, she’d thought they might become a family.
She could only imagine Nick's anger. Relationships didn't work. Nothing was ever true. It was a huge black mark against her.
Alain had called her later, after it was all over. He’d admitted that he might have come on a bit strong with Jon Stewart. He might have made a point about how much money Emilie had, and what a fool Nick would be to turn down her offer. He'd even hinted that she would be willing to give him money, which was technically illegal. Or that she would use her name to do whatever he needed.
That had been a mistake, of course. Alain had meant it in good faith. He knew how much Emilie wanted a child. He was trying desperately hard to get one for her.
She couldn't fault him for that. However much she would like to lay the problem on someone else's head, she knew it was her own. She should have told Nick from the start that she wanted to adopt Amber. She should have been straightforward about wanting to show him that she could be a good single mother.
She’d been so afraid that he would turn her down flat. In the end, her own desperation had been her undoing.
Her worst blunder was in falling in love with Nick.
What had she been thinking?
She threw herself down on the bed. He'd been honest with her from the beginning. He'd told her that there couldn't be a relationship between them. He'd told her about his plans for the children, and his reasons.
She hadn't lied exactly. Maybe there was still a way to turn things around. If she could make him listen, make him understand. If she could get him to see that she was wrong, but not guilty of what he'd charged her with, she could still convince him to find some good in the situation.
The phone rang and she picked it up, hoping it would be Nick. It was Tyler Lantree, the publisher of Lantree Press, the man to whom she'd sent Nick's work.
After the pleasantries were over, Tyler wasted no time in telling her that he was interested in acquiring Nick's book. "It needs some polish, but it's good work. The poems are another story. I like them—there's not much market for them. I do have a friend that I'd like to send them to and see what she thinks."
Emilie was ecstatic. Here was her opportunity to make amends with Nick. "That's wonderful, Tyler. I can't wait to tell him."
"I'm leaving for our place in Kentucky for the holidays. Have him give me a call after the first of the yea
r and we'll go over the details, Emilie. I hope you're planning a good holiday?"
"I think it might be good after all," she said, without explanation. "Thanks for calling, Tyler. Have a great holiday. Give Irene my best."
"I'll do that. Take care, Emilie. My best to your aunt as well."
Emilie hung up the phone, startled to find Joda standing beside her in the quiet room. "Who was that?"
"Tyler Lantree. He wants to publish Nick's book. I can't wait to tell him. This might be just the thing to bring them all home."
Joda shook her head and sat down in the rocking chair. "You still don't understand! You already hurt his pride once. You're about to hit him again! He thinks you tried to buy him and the children. This won't help."
Emilie refused to be dissuaded. She hummed happily and dressed in a bright red sweater and black wool skirt, careful of her hair and make up. She looked at herself in the mirror and told herself that Aunt Joda was wrong. This news could repair all the damage between them. He wouldn't doubt that she really cared.
She drove to his house in a cloud of bright pink anticipation and dreams. She smiled widely when he opened the door at her quick knock.
"Nick! I have something wonderful to tell you!"
"Go away, Emilie."
"Wait," she stalled him. "Let me tell you and see if this doesn't make all the difference. I found a publisher for your book."
He stopped dead. "What?"
She grinned. "I found a publisher for your book, Nick. A friend of my father’s, Tyler Lantree. He loves it. He isn't sure about the poems, but he's sending them to someone."
"Emilie," he demanded. "What have you done?"
Her smile faded slightly. "I've found a publisher for your work. I thought you'd be happy."
He shook his dark head and laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "What else have you done? Did you rig the test at the college? Was there anything you missed in this quest of yours?"
She glanced at Adam and Amber who was watching them. "I did it for you. I wanted it to be a surprise for Christmas."
"It's a surprise, all right."
"I don't understand." She shook her head. "What did I do wrong? You have a talent. Tyler wouldn't have wanted the book if you didn't, regardless of our friendship. Was there some difference between that and finding Adam a spot on the band?"
"You can't go around fixing people's lives all the time," he argued. "And you might as well give up on the adoption now. I'm keeping Adam and Amber."
She swallowed hard and looked at the children. "That's wonderful. I thought you should keep them, remember? Would I have said that if I only wanted to adopt them myself?"
Nick's eyes looked a fraction lighter for a moment. He looked away from her. "It doesn't matter anymore. It's over. The kids and I can manage on our own. Renee will have to understand."
Her eyes welled with tears. "Does it have to be over for us, too? Is that all there is?"
His mouth hardened. "That's all there ever was, Emilie. You knew that. I wish you'd been as honest with me about the whole thing with Amber. Maybe—"
"Maybe?"
He glanced at her, hating to see her face tear-stained and unhappy. Yet, how could he ever trust her again? She'd lied to him, tried to buy his love, and the children's lives.
"It wouldn't have worked," he said at last. "No matter what. I'm sorry."
"So am I.” She turned to leave. “I'll see you around. Merry Christmas."
"Emilie?" He stopped her before she could leave. "I'd like my manuscript back. It wasn't ready. I wasn't going to try to do anything with it yet."
"Tyler said it needed some polish. He could help you."
"No, thanks. I'll do it myself."
"I'll get it back for you. But I had nothing to do with your college prep class. Believe it or not. I don't run everyone and everything around here. You listen to too much gossip, Nick. See you."
Nick closed the door and turned resolutely away from it.
"Emilie was crying," Adam stated pointedly.
"She was," Nick agreed with his nephew.
"Why are you fighting? Why can't we stay with her anymore?"
"Because it was time to come home," Nick told him plainly. "Eat your lunch."
Had he been wrong?
He watched her back out of the driveway, careless of the Mercedes' bumper as she turned sharply over the curb. His feelings were too confused about what had happened to them. He needed some time to think.
He’d wanted to believe Emilie when she told him that it was all a misunderstanding. His heart had suffered when he'd heard her lawyer friend ask her what she’d be willing to do to have Amber.
He'd only begun to believe in her, to believe in himself. His confidence was shaky. He still couldn’t believe that she'd invited them to her house to show him she could be a good mother.
It was like her, though.
He thought it over as he was getting Adam and Amber ready to go out. It was also like her to find a publisher for his book—even though he might not want to publish it. She was always trying to perform miracles, trying to find some way to help.
At least that was the Emilie he thought he knew. Was she really that way, or was it all for his benefit? When had she learned that Amber was his niece?
Not that it mattered to him, he told himself ruthlessly. It was over between them, as he knew it would be. There were no permanent relationships. No one was there forever, or in Emilie's case, truthful.
Nick drove Adam and Amber to the daycare as the snow started falling. He had two jobs lined up for that morning and then he was going to pick them up. It was Christmas Eve, after all. He had to make the holiday what he could for them, despite Emilie's duplicity.
Despite the fact that he still loved her and his heart was breaking.
"We aren't going back to Emilie's house again, are we?" Adam asked before Nick left them at the daycare.
Nick hugged him. "No, we're not. You might as well get used to calling her Miss Ferrier again too."
Adam shrugged away from him. "You just don't want to be there with her."
Nick shook his head. "She didn't want us there forever, Adam."
"That's not what she said."
"I have to go." Nick’s voice was rough with emotion. "I'll be back by noon. Look out for your sister."
Adam watched his uncle leave in the big truck. He kissed Amber's cheek and whispered to her that he knew what had to be done to make it right. Then he slipped out the side door, and started walking away from the daycare.
Chapter Sixteen
By ten that morning, blizzard warnings were all over the radio and television. The snow was falling hard and fast, covering tracks in the street as quickly as cars passed. People were advised to leave work early and take in some bottled water and batteries for their flashlights and radios in case of power failure.
Nick finished his first job and decided against the second. The roads were slippery and the snow was piling up quickly on the already icy ground. It looked as though it could get bad. He’d have his hands full after the weather cleared with cars that didn't make it home.
He decided to stop for some food before the stores got crowded. The daycare was only a few blocks from his house so he knew they could make it home, even if they had to walk. The week away from the house had left his cupboard bare. If they were going to have any Christmas at all, he had to stop.
The stores were crowded. Bread was scarce, and batteries were gone. All he needed were the basics, and a few bags of Christmas cookies. And some fudge. And some stuff for punch.
They would put up their own Christmas tree when they got home. It wouldn't be the same as being with Emilie, but he supposed they might as well get used to it. He hadn't brought their presents to Emilie’s house. He’d been waiting until Christmas. It was just as well.
He wanted to get through the holiday. Then he wanted to forget Emilie Ferrier. It wouldn't be easy without moving away from Ferrier’s Mountain, but he was determined th
at she wouldn't drive him out of town.
Ferrier's Mountain was a good place to raise the kids. Good schools. Good people. He owned his business and it did pretty well. He’d be able to give Amber and Adam all they needed and some of what they wanted.
If his heart broke a little more the first few times he saw Emilie again on the street or in school, he’d eventually get over her. If sometimes he wanted to die knowing that she was so close and he couldn't be with her, he’d remember that he had Amber and Adam.
He pulled into the daycare center parking lot a little before noon. By the look of the traffic, everyone had the same idea. Kids were running and sliding in the heavy snowfall. Parents he recognized, but didn't really know, nodded to him as they passed.
It was as dark as evening with the heavy clouds and the thick snow. Christmas lights twinkled in the darkness, reminding him of Emilie's house and the thousands of lights she'd bought for the holiday.
He shook his head. Everything reminded him of Emilie.
"Hi, Mr. Garrett," the toddler lady said. "I thought you'd be by early."
"Hi," he returned. "It's pretty bad out there already."
"Nice for Christmas." She smiled at him. "I'll have Amber ready to go in a jiffy."
"Is Adam outside?"
She shrugged. "I haven't seen him. He's probably with Mrs. North."
Mrs. North had only seen him that morning when Nick had dropped Amber off.
"I thought he went with you," she told him. "I saw him with you this morning. I just assumed that he left with you. When I turned around, both of you were gone."
They looked frantically through the whole building. Mrs. North called the workers who'd gone home that morning. No one had seen Adam since Nick had dropped him off at eight am.
Mrs. North looked at Nick as she dialed the phone again. "I don't know what happened, Mr. Garrett. We'd better not take any chances. I'm calling the police."
The police cruiser had a hard time making it to the daycare. Already, the highway patrol was calling for people to stay off the roads. The weather was too bad to send out snowplows and the snow was piling up on the streets. Visibility was down to a few feet.
When the police arrived, they calmed Mrs. North, who was at the point of ripping out her hair.
