The Christmas Wife

by Sherry Lewis

  As she stepped around the counter, Beau drank in the sight of her. She wore jeans and a plain, long-sleeve white T-shirt tucked in at the waist. Her thumbs were hooked in her back pockets, causing her breasts to press against the thin white fabric, accentuating the lacy bra covering their soft swell. “I realize you don’t need help from me, but out of curiosity, where’s your broom?”

  Beau jerked his gaze back up to her face. “Broom?”

  “That thing with the handle on one end and bristles on the other? I’m sure you’ve seen one.”

  Her hair fell in lazy curls to her shoulders, and Beau had a sudden urge to forget about breakfast and remind himself why men and women had been created differently. He was having one helluva time concentrating on what she was saying. Broom, he reminded himself. “I’ve seen one. I just haven’t decided whether or not to use it yet. I’m still pondering my options.”

  Her eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter and Beau added another entry to the list of things he was learning to love about her. “I’d suggest the broom first, then maybe a mop.”

  “A mop.”

  “Spongy thing. Long handle. Needs water.” She glanced at the puddle on the floor. “I wish I’d gotten here sooner. I could have told you that juice doesn’t work, as well.”

  He gave himself over to the game and narrowed his eyes in mock disbelief as he pulled the broom from the closet. “Are you sure? It’s prettier than water. Pink.”

  “That’s true,” she said, somehow still managing not to smile, “but your floor isn’t pink.”

  “Not yet.”

  She nodded, conceding the point, and turned away to pull the mop and bucket from the closet. “Did you want a pink floor?”

  Beau swept a mound of pancake mix onto the dustpan and carried it to the garbage can. “I’m thinking about it. Brianne likes pink. It’s a perfectly good color. And it might even help me get in touch with my feminine side.”

  Molly laughed, just once, before she sobered again. “It might, but that’s not really the thing to do anymore.”

  “No?”

  “I don’t want to sound rude, but it’s sort of…nineties.”

  “Shows you what I know. And after I went to all this trouble, too.” He stepped across a particularly noxious blob of pink dough and tackled another heap of dry mix. “So what are men into these days?”

  “I think it’s all about ‘being real.’ Facing things squarely.” She wagged a dismissive hand through the air. “You know the drill. Dealing with life head-on. Taking it on the jaw. That sort of macho, manly, testosterone-y thing.”

  “Head-on? Are you sure?”

  “Well, not a hundred percent, but fairly sure. Honesty seems to be the thing these days for both sexes.” She carried the bucket to the sink, found floor cleaner and mixed it with hot water. “It’s not a bad idea, actually. It comes highly recommended.”

  “Honesty, huh?” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “That sounds almost dangerous. Are you sure it works?”

  “Well, I can’t be positive, of course. It’s a new idea and I’ve never been involved with anyone who actually did it…” She shut off the water and turned back to him. “But it sounds nice, and I think I’d like to try. If you’re interested, we could work on it together. Maybe go back over the past few weeks and try again?”

  Beau’s throat closed and he could have sworn that his heart took up residence behind his ears. He couldn’t hear anything but its incessant drumming for several seconds, and the blood in his veins felt as if someone had set it on fire. “What would you do differently?”

  The humor fled her eyes and stark emotion replaced it. “Well, for one thing, I’d be more honest about my feelings for you.”

  He tried to smile. “Would those be good feelings?”

  “That depends on your point of view, but I think so.”

  “That sounds promising.” He left the broom and dustpan leaning against the fridge and moved closer to her. “I’d probably be forced to admit that I’ve missed this a whole lot more than I should.”

  She smiled and her eyes softened even further. “So have I.”

  Beau felt himself being drawn into their depths, and he suddenly wanted more than anything to spend however long it took to uncover all the mysteries there. “So we’re friends again?”

  She nodded without looking away. “I’d like that.”

  “Only friends?”

  Her eyes widened slightly, but she shook her head and her lips curved into a slow, seductive smile. “I don’t think so.”

  He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, sparing one brief thought for the kids and willing them to sleep just five minutes longer.

  She snuggled into his arms and frowned up at him thoughtfully. “I guess if we’re really going to get into this honesty thing, there’s one more little tidbit I should share. I was madly in love with you back in high school. I would have given almost anything to take Heather’s place.”

  The confession both stunned and delighted him, but he wasn’t about to waste time analyzing which feeling was stronger. The kids might wake up at any minute. He drew her closer and lowered his head until their lips were almost touching. “Maybe you should have told me back then.”

  “I was too shy.”

  “Yeah? But think of all the time we’ve wasted.” And with that, he covered her mouth with his and put an end to the conversation. There’d be plenty of opportunity to talk later. Right now it was time to feed a starving man—and he didn’t mean eggs and pancakes, either.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BEAU SQUINTED into the deceptive October sunshine and tugged the collar of his jacket up to protect his ears from the biting cold as he worked. A small pile of luggage sat on the tarmac a few feet from the Cessna, waiting for him to load up. His passengers, two guys who needed transportation back to Jackson after a successful elk hunt, had conceded to the cold and gone inside for stale coffee and doughnuts.

  Perfect weather for Halloween. Perfect weather for a flight. In fact, everything had been pretty damn perfect for nearly a week. If he wasn’t careful, he could get used to this.

  Molly had been in Serenity for a month already, and there were times when Beau let himself forget that she wasn’t going to be around forever. He liked coming home from work and finding her there with the kids. He got a kick out of cutting firewood for the cabin while she worked on her jewelry. No matter how many times he’d told her she didn’t need to cook for them, it was a rare workday when he didn’t walk through the door to the aroma of something in the oven or on the stove. But on his days off, he tried to pull his weight by fixing chili and biscuits or Brianne’s favorite baked potato bar.

  Yep, he could get used to this. And maybe Aaron was right. Maybe this was his chance.

  He heard footsteps behind him and turned, expecting to find his passengers returning. But instead, he found Doris striding toward him, looking as if someone had just run off with her prize pickle recipe. He groaned silently and prayed for patience.

  “Doris.”

  “We need to talk, Beau.”

  He decided not to assume the worst. “About what?”

  “I think you know what.”

  “This isn’t really a good time,” he said, nodding toward the luggage in case she hadn’t noticed it. “I have passengers inside, and I’m due for takeoff in just a couple of minutes.”

  “This can’t wait. I’m worried about the kids.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “Yes, something happened. It’s been happening for a month, and I’m tired of hoping you’ll wake up and be reasonable about this.”

  Would the woman never give up? Beau shook his head and hefted a duffel bag. He stuffed it into the Cessna’s nose compartment and turned back for another. “I thought we’d agreed not to have this conversation again.”

  Doris tugged her cardigan sweater closer and folded her arms. The wind tousled her hair and the cold had already turned her nose and ears pink, but she lo
oked ready to settle in for a long battle. “I don’t approve of what you’re doing over there with that woman. What will it take to get you to stop?”

  Beau had to reach around her to get the rest of the bags. “I can’t discuss this now, Doris. I’m scheduled to take off and my passengers are waiting.”

  “This doesn’t have to take long. I just want you to promise me you’ll be reasonable. That you’ll start to care about Brianne and Nicky and the impression you’re making on them, and that you’ll send—” she waved a hand as if she couldn’t remember “—Molly to stay somewhere else.”

  Beau wedged the two small bags into the Cessna’s nose and stepped back to latch it. “In the first place, Doris, what I do isn’t your concern. In the second, Molly and I aren’t doing anything wrong.” He stepped around her and stowed two leather briefcases behind the passenger seats. “And third, I really don’t want Molly to go anywhere.” He turned back to face her. “As a matter of fact, I’m hoping she’ll decide to stay for a long, long time.”

  “Oh, please, Beau. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t been divorced that long, and you were in love with Heather since you were teenagers. Now someone comes back who knew you then and still sees you as the quarterback on the high-school football team, and you’re going take a little flirtation with her seriously?”

  Struggling to keep his temper, Beau moved past her again. Doris had been a constant presence in his marriage, a thorn in his side for fifteen long years. She’d controlled everything Heather had ever done, and through Heather, him. But he still wasn’t willing to let down his guard and tell her everything in his mind. Call it respect, call it weakness, he wasn’t sure which. But he bit his tongue as he always did.

  And she came after him, as she always did. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. Everyone knew Molly had a thing for you in school, but Heather always stood in her way. Now Heather’s gone, and who shows up? It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not here for me.”

  “Is it ridiculous?” Doris’s footsteps echoed on the tarmac behind him. “Why don’t you go ask a few people, Beau? Eve knows. Heather always knew.”

  “I wouldn’t trust Heather to tell me what time it is,” Beau snapped. “And Eve’s almost as bad.”

  “And Molly’s just like her mother, sniffing around for any man who’d have her.”

  Suddenly furious, Beau whipped around and put himself at eye level with her. “You’re a mean-spirited woman, Doris. You always have been. You drove Heather crazy with your constant nagging, and you’re about to do the same thing to me.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but she snapped it shut again, and fire flashed in her eyes.

  Beau didn’t care. “For the kids’ sake, I’ve put up with everything you’ve dished out, but you’ve gone too far this time. I’m going to tell you this just once. Leave Molly alone. And if I ever hear you say anything that vile about her mother again, it’ll be the last time the kids go anywhere with you alone.”

  It was a rash threat, but he didn’t let himself apologize. Doris had to realize how irrational she’d become, or the situation really would get out of hand, and the kids would be the ones who suffered.

  Doris’s pale eyes grew icy. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Try me and find out.”

  “I’ll take you to court. I’ll petition for custody of those kids myself.”

  Perhaps he’d gone too far, Beau thought, especially with customers likely to come back at any moment. He also knew that if he kept arguing with her, things would go downhill—as if they could go any farther downhill than they already had. Clenching his fists as tightly as his teeth, he wheeled away from her and started across the tarmac toward his office.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me,” she shouted after him. “I mean it, Beau.”

  He kept walking, but only because he didn’t completely trust himself not to do something he’d regret. Maybe he’d pushed her too far this time, but she had to understand that there were some lines folks didn’t cross. Getting dealt a raw hand in life didn’t justify becoming mean-spirited. And if she followed through on her threat and fought him for custody of the kids in court? Well, then he supposed Doris Preston would finally find out what he was made of.

  “COME OUT WITH ME,” he whispered to Molly that evening during a rare moment alone.

  Scowling in concentration, she looked up from the lasagna she’d been layering into a pan. “Out?”

  “For dinner. Let the kids have the lasagna. We’ll go somewhere, just the two of us.”

  Molly’s eyes grew wide. “On a date?”

  “That’s what I had in mind.”

  She tilted her head to one side and considered him for a moment. “Well, I do truly love my lasagna, but I guess leftovers would be just as good. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  She lifted a shoulder casually, but a shadow crossed her eyes. “You know how people are. If we go out in public together—alone—people will talk. I’ll be leaving sooner or later. You and the kids are the ones who’ll have to live with it.”

  Leaving. He ignored the pang he felt and leaned into the corner, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t worry about talk. We’ve gotten used to talk this year. Besides, I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

  Her gaze traveled the length of him and a slow smile curved her lips. She cleared her throat and looked at the lasagna noodle she held in her hands as if she didn’t know what it was. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she said after she gathered her wits. “Brianne seems to be doing a lot better lately. I don’t want to do anything that might send her into a tailspin.”

  “And you think that going on a date with me will do that?”

  “I don’t know.” She met his gaze squarely. “I think that her grandmother will cause trouble if you and I go out in public.”

  “Doris is one of the reasons I want to talk to you—alone. She stopped by to see me today at the airstrip. I think you should know what she’s saying.”

  “About me?”

  Beau nodded. The rest could keep until they were alone.

  Molly’s gaze faltered. “You know she’s not happy about me being here.”

  “She made that pretty clear,” he admitted, “but how do you know?”

  “She told me.”

  Beau’s good mood evaporated. “She what?”

  “She told me.”

  “I got that part.” He struggled not to let his anger with Doris spill over to Molly. “When did she tell you?”

  “The other day at the FoodWay. I was there picking up a few groceries and she made a point of…introducing herself.”

  The anger he’d somehow managed to keep suppressed all day burst to life as if someone had tossed a lit match onto gas-soaked kindling. He’d had enough. More than enough. He turned away as he struggled to get it under control. “She’s gone too far,” he ground out when he could speak again. “I don’t know what it’s going to take to wake her up, but she can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry, Molly.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Oh, but it is. She’s been this way since Heather and I got married. Even earlier, if you want the truth. From the minute we told her Heather was pregnant, she started nosing her way into our lives, and I let her in because I was a kid and I felt so damn guilty about what we’d done. My parents were disappointed, but they took it in stride. Doris…” He paused and shook his head. “She’s held every mistake I’ve ever made over my head, and she did the same with Heather. Miserable as she’s been making me, I’ll tell you who I’d hate to be right now, and that’s Heather. She’ll pay for leaving here for the rest of her life. Doris will make sure of it.”

  Molly touched his arm tentatively. “At least she’s not alone. She has Dawn…and you.”

  He whirled back to face her. “Me?”

  Molly went back to work, spooning great daubs of
filling into the pan. “I know she hurt you, Beau. I understand you don’t want to put your marriage back together, and I’m not suggesting you should.” She set the bowl aside and looked into his eyes. “But regardless of what happened in the end, the two of you really have been friends forever. You’ve been through hell and back again. And you have children together. Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you could stop being angry with her and just be her friend? I know the kids would like it.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing. She isn’t interested in seeing the kids.”

  “I don’t think you can be sure of that. If she was living a lie during her marriage to you, she must have been unhappy. Now you’re hurt and angry, and her mother’s…well, Doris. And let’s face facts—Heather’s obviously not strong enough to come back here and see the children she disappointed when there’s not a soul in the world who’ll back her. Dawn wouldn’t be much help in that situation.”

  Molly was wrong, and Beau wanted to tell her so, but deep down he knew that her argument made a certain kind of sense. He let out a brittle laugh and turned away, testing Molly’s analysis in a dozen different ways and trying to find the flaws.

  “If you shut her out,” Molly said after a long moment, “then you’re really doing the same thing my dad did with me.”

  He whipped back toward her. “It’s not the same thing at all. She left me.”

  “And apparently my mom left Dad. She just didn’t live long enough for anyone else to know about it.”

  He dropped heavily into a chair and held his head with his hands, still trying to find faults in her logic and losing at every turn. “You’re asking me to forgive her for lying to me? For hurting the kids? For ignoring them and putting herself first?”

  “Yes. Because if you don’t, you’re putting your own hurt before the kids. You can’t really believe that staying this angry with her is good for Brianne and Nicky. Whether or not she accepts your offer isn’t the issue. For the kids’ sake, you have to find a way to make it.”