The Christmas Wife

by Sherry Lewis

CHAPTER FIVE

  THE NEXT MORNING at breakfast Beau accidentally charred the toast, broke a plate loading the dishwasher and stepped on a sharp piece of ceramic as he cleaned up. The one piece of good luck that came his way was that the kids had left for school before he put Brianne’s favorite blouse through the wash and turned it into a potholder.

  He was holding that shriveled scrap of pink in his hands and fighting the urge to let loose some of his favorite curses, when the sound of knocking from behind brought him around. When he recognized his mother looking in through the back door, he was glad he’d kept a little control on his vocabulary.

  He tossed the blouse aside and made a mental note to tell Brianne what he’d done before she could discover it for herself. After motioning for his mother to come in, he headed toward the coffeemaker to start a fresh pot. “You’re out and about early,” he said as he dumped old grounds into the trash. “What’s up?”

  “I’m on my way to a meeting of the music committee,” she said, slipping out of her light jacket and draping it across the back of a chair. “We need to get started on plans for WinterFest, and I came by to get your notes from last year. We don’t want to accidentally repeat ourselves.”

  “Sure. My file’s in the study. If you’ll finish this, I’ll get it.” He left her in charge of the coffee and burrowed around in his desk for a few minutes until he found the file he was looking for. When he carried it back into the kitchen, he found his mother holding Brianne’s ruined blouse up to the window.

  She grimaced as she returned the ruined garment to the top of the washer. “What are you going to tell Brianne?”

  Beau shook his head and handed over the file. “I have no idea. She was fit to be tied the last time I ruined one of her things. The way she feels about me lately, she’ll probably come completely unglued.”

  “She’s still impossible?”

  “Worse than ever.” He dug two mugs from the cupboard and found two clean spoons in the dishwasher he hadn’t yet unloaded. “I don’t know how this happened, Mom. I’ve tried everything, but she won’t listen to reason. Everything I do, everything I say, is wrong.”

  His mother sank into a chair and flashed a sympathetic smile. “She’s upset, honey. When Heather left it threw her whole world into disarray. Just when it looked like things were beginning to settle down again, you decided you could do without Doris.” She glanced at the mounds of laundry and piles of dishes. “All those changes would throw anyone for a loop. With an emotional child like Brianne, you have to expect a strong reaction.”

  “I could handle a reaction,” Beau growled. “But what she’s been doing goes way beyond that.” He paced to the other end of the kitchen, scooped up a mound of laundry that had been begging for attention for days and began stuffing it into the washer. “It’s like she’s decided I don’t deserve any space on the planet.”

  His mother laughed softly, then, getting up from her chair and crossing the room, she nudged him out of the way and began layering the clothes into the washer one piece at a time. “Don’t overreact, Beau. She’s upset, that’s all. And you have to admit, she does have reason to be.”

  Beau’s shoulders stiffened and a warning bell went off in the back of his head. He turned away and rubbed his face with one hand. The room was fragrant with the scent of fresh coffee, but unfinished chores loomed everywhere. Floors that needed vacuuming. Windows that needed washing. Phone calls that needed to be returned. Then there were piano lessons, soccer practice and karate on top of committee meetings, town-planning meetings and work. Life was getting away from him, and he wondered for a moment if he could ever catch up.

  Even so, he wasn’t about to move backward. “What did you want me to do, Mom? Let Doris stay around forever? Do you have any idea how it felt to have her here all the time talking about Heather? Trying to convince me that she’s just a little ‘confused’ and that she’ll be coming back? Filling the kids’ heads with that garbage? It’s hard enough wrapping my brain around what happened and moving on with life, without someone purposely dragging us all backward.”

  His mother added soap and fabric softener to the washer and closed the lid. “I know it was rough, honey. I’m just thinking about the other things—the more practical things that make up everyday life, like dishes and laundry and dusting.”

  “All the things I’m not doing. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Now you’re being too sensitive. I didn’t say a word about your housekeeping.”

  Beau laughed. “No, but you were thinking it.” He sobered and let out a sigh of frustration. “I know I’m behind. I know I have a lot to learn. But I’ll get there.”

  “There are people willing to help you, Beau, if you’d just let them. I’m sure if you talked to Doris and explained how you’re feeling, she’d make a few adjustments. In a strange way I can sympathize with her. She wants what she’s saying to be true.”

  “You don’t think I have talked to her? She’s so convinced she’s right she won’t listen to anything I say.” The coffeemaker stopped and Beau turned away gratefully. He poured a cup for his mother, then one for himself. Gripping his mug in both hands, he returned to the table and sank into a chair.

  “It’s not just that, anyway,” he said when he felt a little more in control. “I need to do this on my own.”

  She turned toward him with a scowl. “Why?”

  “Because it’s my job.”

  “Not all of it.”

  “My house. My kids. My responsibility.”

  Shaking her head in exasperation, his mom slipped into the chair across from his. “Haven’t you heard that it takes a village to raise a child? Everyone needs help at one time or another. There’s no shame in accepting it when it’s your turn.”

  Beau shook his head sharply. “I don’t want help and I don’t need sympathy. It’s just a matter of time until I have everything under control.”

  “Oh, honey.” She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “Are you really going to let stubborn pride get in the way?”

  The question stung, and her tone of voice made him feel like a child again. “I’m just being responsible,” he insisted, but his voice came out too harshly. He took a few seconds to compose himself. “I’m taking care of my kids. I’m taking care of my home. I’m pursuing a career.”

  “But you can’t do everything alone, honey. It’s too much.”

  He laughed without humor. “Would you say that if I were a woman?”

  His mother’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean that single mothers do it all the time and nobody thinks twice, so why is it such a stretch to believe that a man can do it just as well? Or is it only me who’s not quite up to the challenge?”

  The smile on his mother’s face vanished. “That’s not what I meant. I would never question your abilities. You’ve always excelled at everything you’ve taken on. But you’re not used to doing everything you need to do around here. And the kids—”

  “So I can be counted on to toss a football or change a tire, but not to fix a casserole or clean a toilet?”

  His mom glanced toward the washer, where Brianne’s ruined shirt seemed to take on a special glow.

  In spite of his irritation, Beau laughed. “Okay, so I still have a few things to learn. I’ll get used to doing what needs to be done, Mom. Just have a little faith in me and support me in this—please. If my own family isn’t on my side, what chance do I have?”

  Leaning across the table, she cupped his face in her hands. “We are always on your side. You must know that.”

  And he did. His parents’ love, trust and support were three things he’d never had to question. But he wondered for the first time whether his own children would be able to say the same thing about him, and how he’d ever make up for the damage Heather’s life-altering decision had done them.

  By comparison, a few piles of laundry and some unwashed dishes seemed utterly insignificant, and he couldn’t even do those ri
ght. He had a sick feeling that if someone tossed him a life preserver now, it would probably hit him in the head and send him under for the third time.

  BY TUESDAY MORNING Molly was beginning to have second thoughts about her decision to accept Beau’s offer. She’d spent nearly all of Monday with Elaine, meeting old friends, dredging up memories and giggling like schoolgirls over sodas at the Burger Shack. After school let out, reality set in. Dinner with Elaine’s family had left her wondering if she’d ever really be able to accept the fact that the miscarriage had left her unable to have children of her own and envying Elaine’s relationship with her husband.

  To make matters worse, she’d spent entirely too much time thinking about Beau, remembering his laugh, his smile, the sound of his voice and the color of his eyes. She’d been around him for less than a week, but she was as attracted to him as she’d ever been—maybe even more.

  Not smart.

  Now she was about to move into the cabin he’d offered and spend the next ten days practically living under his roof. Also not smart.

  The past year had been hard on her. She didn’t need to set herself up for almost certain disappointment. And yet here she was, wedging her last suitcase into the trunk and closing it, as if this was actually a good idea.

  And maybe it was.

  Spending so much time around him might be for the best. She might find out that he had atrocious habits. Rude table manners. A secret gambling problem. Trouble with alcohol. Maybe he scratched his crotch in public. Belched for sport. With a little luck, maybe she’d finally get over this silly girlhood crush that had resurrected itself without invitation.

  She’d told Beau that she’d arrive around noon, but instead, she lingered over a salad at the Burger Shack, then spent some time window-shopping before finally heading toward the farmhouse. His property lay at the west end of town, surrounded by new houses where once there’d been only rolling fields. It was a great piece of land nestled beside a stream. Probably one of the most beautiful lots in town.

  She drove across the wooden bridge and a few minutes later pulled into a driveway that led to his sprawling white farmhouse. Rows of trees and a lawn that was easily the size of half a football field separated the house from its neighbors.

  Halfway to the house, the drive turned to dirt. She slowed cautiously, aware of the sound of her engine in the stillness and the dust kicked up by her tires. As she pulled to a stop, a curtain in a window twitched, and by the time she opened the car door Beau was striding down the walk to meet her.

  Her heart gave a little skip when she saw him coming toward her in snug, well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt that emphasized the muscles in his arms and shoulders. Did he dress that way on purpose, or was he really oblivious to his charms?

  A slight breeze lifted a lock of wheat-gold hair from his forehead, and a welcoming smile curved his lips. Her heart skittered again, but she ignored it. If she was going to stay here, she had to start seeing Beau as a friend. A buddy. Just another guy.

  Yeah, right.

  She got out of the car and rested her arms on the open door, trying to ignore the blue of his eyes and the way the sun lit his hair. “I wasn’t sure where to park. Is there somewhere better?”

  “This is fine.” He nodded toward a copse of trees behind the house. “The cabin’s back there by the stream. Walk with me and I’ll show you.”

  Molly fell into step beside him as the kitchen door opened again. This time a young girl with light-blond hair came outside. She wore a frown so fierce Molly could have sworn she felt its weight across the distance. A young boy with hair the same shade as Beau’s bounced out the door. The girl sidestepped him, brushing the sleeve of her sweater as if she’d picked up germs simply by standing on the same ground as her brother.

  Molly’s heart gave an uncomfortable squeeze at the girl’s obvious displeasure, but she told herself to push it away. No getting wistful about Beau. No getting soft with his kids. Those were the rules from this moment on.

  Beau performed introductions quickly and waved for the kids to join them without ever breaking stride. “Come on, you two. You can help.”

  “The kids don’t have to help me,” Molly protested as she struggled to keep up with him. She was pretty sure Brianne would object, and she didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. “I don’t have much, and my bags aren’t heavy.”

  “You’re a guest.”

  “I feel like a pest.”

  Beau’s gaze settled on her face and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I invited you to stay here, and I always take care of my guests.”

  Molly managed a weak smile and decided not to annoy him by arguing the point.

  He nodded toward the willows, their branches still thick with leaves beginning to lose their color. “I hope the cabin’s okay. I’ve had the windows open all morning to air it out, and the kids helped me clean up a bit.”

  Glancing at the kids, Molly saw that Nicky had already reached the edge of the lawn, but Brianne was taking her time and making no effort to hide her annoyance. Molly could only hope that the girl would relax once she realized that her father’s guest wasn’t going to be around much.

  They rounded the copse of trees, and Molly got her first glimpse of the small log cabin nestled among the willows near the stream.

  Far from a run-down old shack, it was utterly charming. Two large windows looked out over a long wooden porch that stretched the cabin’s length. Rusted farm equipment, horseshoes and strands of barbed wire twisted into Western shapes decorated the outside walls and porch railings. Two green Adirondack chairs flanked a wide wooden porch swing, and Molly immediately saw herself spending lazy afternoons there while she read or listened to music.

  She realized Beau was watching her, waiting for her reaction with a mixture of pride and vulnerability. “So? What do you think?”

  “I think it’s wonderful,” she said. “I can’t believe this is that old run-down shack I remember. You’re probably the luckiest guy I’ve ever met.”

  Beau’s expression changed subtly. “I wouldn’t call it luck. My grandparents left the farm to my dad, but he and my mom were settled in town and Mom didn’t want to give up her house to move out here. My sister and her husband built a brand-new house on the East Bench about five years ago, and my kid brother was too busy dating and partying to take care of the property. That leaves me here by default.”

  The East Bench, Molly knew, was a small subdivision of houses mostly built at least forty years earlier. Nice, but nothing compared with this wonderful old home. “It doesn’t matter how you got it,” she said as she stepped onto the porch. “The point is that you have something that’s been in your family for generations. I’d love to have anything that had belonged in my family for that long.”

  Nicky caught up to them and threw his arms around Beau’s legs. Beau absently wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Maybe you will someday.”

  Molly shook her head and looked away. “It was just my dad and me for the last fifteen years of his life. I don’t have anything belonging to my mom, and her folks are gone, so there’s no hope of getting something now.”

  “Your dad didn’t keep anything?”

  “He was so upset when she died he got rid of all her things.” Funny that she could admit that to Beau when she didn’t like sharing it with anyone else. “I have one pair of his glasses and one of his sweaters. My stepmother has the rest. And if we ever had any family heirlooms, they’re long gone.”

  Beau tousled Nicky’s hair. “My family is completely opposite from yours, then. I don’t think my dad’s ever thrown away anything in his life, and my mom’s nearly as bad. She still has pictures I drew in first grade and every report card I ever brought home.” He grinned at Brianne and seemed not to notice that she didn’t smile back. “My kids are going to end up with more mementos from my life than they could possibly want.”

  He nudged Nicky forward and opened the cabin door for Molly. She stepped insid
e and took in every detail with a hunger that surprised her. Two matching windows in the back wall let sunlight stream through the room and brought the outdoors inside. A queen-size bed covered with a dark blue comforter and white lacy throw pillows nestled between the windows. A small kitchen took up some of the area in the front, and a living room complete with blue plaid couch and easy chairs in pale blue took up the rest. Dried flower arrangements in varying shades of yellow and ochre added just the right accents.

  Beau nodded toward the rock-faced fireplace on the far wall. “Nicky and I will bring some wood for you. Nights can get cool this time of year. There’s running water, but unfortunately the sink drain’s not hooked up. You’ll have to use the washtub and then carry the water outside to dump it. It’s more rustic than you’re probably used to, but I haven’t had time to finish the plumbing yet.”

  “It won’t be any trouble,” Molly assured him. “I think this is the most charming place I’ve ever seen in my life.” She put her purse on the wood dining table and let her gaze wander around the rest of the room one more time. “Did you decorate this?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Me? No.” He glanced over his shoulder at Brianne, who’d moved into the doorway and stood glowering at the world in general. “Brianne and her mother did most of the decorating, didn’t you, Brie?”

  “Mom did it, not me.” The girl’s petulant voice filled the entire cabin like a blast of cold air.

  Molly took her cue from Beau and pretended not to notice. “Well, it’s beautiful. Your mother always did have a way of putting things together just so.”

  Brianne’s gaze shot to Molly. “You know my mom?”

  Molly nodded. “I went to school with her, too.”

  “Were you friends?”

  “Not exactly. Your mom was a cheerleader and your dad was a football player, and I was…kind of a nerd. We didn’t hang out with the same crowd.”

  Brianne’s gaze hardened slightly. “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I came back for Homecoming Week.” She allowed herself a self-mocking smile and added, “Even nerds get invited back.”