by Val Daniels
"Dammit, Jillian, I don't need a doctor." Matt grabbed his still-damp ski jacket, then exchanged it for his dry coat. "You'd better straighten out your boyfriend before I do," he warned her, then slammed out of the cabin before either of them could say another word.
Jillian took a deep breath and chanced a look up at Harrison. His face could have been chiseled out of stone. "So?" he demanded, compressing his thin lips into a grim line.
I have to tell him I can't marry him. What a ludicrous thought! All she really had to do was let him continue to think what he was thinking. "Let me get dressed, Harrison. Then we can talk." She was stalling for time, but how could she say what she needed to without some preparation?
He nodded, granting her the permission she realized she didn't need. With the blanket wrapped around her, she headed toward the bedroom. It occurred to her only after she closed the door that she was fully clothed in her jogging suit.
When she returned, Harrison was sitting stiffly in a chair next to the dead fire. "Now," she began, speaking in her most reasonable voice, and sinking onto the pullout bed. "Did you hear me tell you about Matt before we were cut off on Christmas Eve."
Harrison looked at her blankly.
"He arrived shortly before you called." She filled the gaps in Matt's earlier explanation, but left out the important things—the playful fight in the snow, the way Matt had comforted her when she'd cried… Christmas Day seemed like a story from the distant past. Her hand went automatically to the necklace Matt had given her. The bells' small lump beneath her heavy sweater made it all real again.
Of course, she didn't mention the terror she'd felt when she found Matt lying in the snow, or the way her body reacted when he touched her. But when Harrison reached for her hand and began telling her how anxious he'd been for them to be together, she drew away.
"What's the matter?" he asked plaintively. She suddenly recognized that he'd always sounded like that; she'd simply never noticed it before.
"Things have changed," Jillian said fixedly. "Since I've been here I've realized we don't feel the way two people who plan to be married should."
"I haven't changed," he protested. "I still want to marry you."
She smiled wryly. Harrison didn't normally make concessions when things didn't go his way. "Maybe more so now than before?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, raising an aristocratic brow.
"This is the most enthusiastic I've seen you since we began talking about marriage. Let's face it, the subject only came up after I repeatedly refused to go to bed with you." She stared at her ringless hand, remembering his vague proposal. "If you really loved me, Harrison, why didn't you want to introduce me to your family? We've been seeing each other on and off for almost two years." He would have interrupted but she stopped him with an upflung hand. "Why did you suddenly decide we should become engaged? Was it because you wanted to come here to… celebrate?"
"Jillian, I—"
"It seems to me that you were a lot more interested in the honeymoon than the marriage. And you weren't even too concerned about that or you wouldn't have let me get snowed in here by myself Christmas Eve."
"You're going to hold that against me? You don't seem to realize I have obligations—"
"Exactly. And some of them ought to be to your family." Jillian lifted her head. "If you really loved me, you'd want me to feel part of your family. But that's beside the point," she added quietly, slipping her hands beneath her thighs. "I've been so busy telling myself how nicely you'd fill in all the blanks in my life—especially since Grandma died—that I forgot what's really important to me."
Harrison didn't say anything for a long moment, and Jillian scuffed her foot against a braid in the circular rug covering the floor.
"What has all of this got to do with him?" Harrison tossed his head in the direction of the back door, his thick, carefully styled hair remaining stiffly in place. He could have posed for a paper doll of the perfect husband, she realized, half-fascinated, half-mortified by her newfound perceptions.
How often had he called to cancel their plans because he had to work late? If she'd married him, nothing would have changed. The ambition that had drawn her to him would have kept him working long hours, and she'd have raised their children alone.
It wasn't all his fault, she admitted. She'd admired his dedication and been thankful that she didn't have to fight him off. She'd been content to be "window dressing." She'd even fantasized about being the perfect little wife, entertaining his associates and helping him further his political ambitions.
"Why do I suspect that things would still be as we planned if he wasn't involved? Did you sleep with him?"
She blushed. "Not the way you mean." He was watching her carefully and she looked away.
"Then I don't see what the problem is, Jillian. I trust you. If you wouldn't with me—"
"That's not the point," she said impatiently.
"What is?"
"I don't love you."
Harrison mulled that over for a moment, his expression blank. "Then it does have something to do with him."
"No," she replied wearily.
"Then why have you decided we aren't compatible when you've never questioned it before?"
Finally, a question that was easy. "Because of Christmas. Because you didn't come."
"I see." His lips twisted into a smug smile. "This is retribution for my not being here Christmas Eve." Jillian shook her head.
"You're being impetuous, you know."
"I was being impetuous when I agreed to come here with you. What I wanted more than anything was to share Christmas with you and your family."
Harrison didn't comment, and the silence between them stretched uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry, Harrison. I convinced myself that we wanted the same things, but things that are important to me don't mean anything to you." She met his brown eyes, steadily.
"Such as?"
"Your family, Harrison. You don't spend any time with them. Would you have time for our own family if we were married?"
Harrison set his mouth in a thin, straight line. "I'm at a crucial point in my career. It's important that I establish the right contacts now. I thought you understood that, Jillian."
Jillian turned away. "I think I do," she responded sadly.
"So I'm expected to wait around until you change your mind?"
"Please, Harrison, let's just go back to being friends?"
Harrison rose, pulling her up with him. "I'm sure you'll come to your senses, but don't wait too long. I can see I've been too patient with you."
Jillian ducked his outstretched arm and moved out of reach.
He shook his head and picked up his neatly folded coat. "I'm going back to civilization," he stated, looking around him disdainfully. "You know where to find me."
Jillian didn't move. She heard his car start and slowly navigate the lane.
She was still standing there when Matt came in with an armful of logs and bent to place them neatly across the cold, dark embers in the fireplace. "What happened?" he asked casually, and became very busy building a fire.
She felt emotionally drained and shrugged listlessly. His back was still to her so she added, "It doesn't matter." Last night and the unpleasant scene that had finished only moments before combined to add an unhappy sigh to the last word. She didn't notice that Matt had come to stand in front of her until he lifted her chin and looked carefully into her eyes. They immediately filled with tears.
He groaned. "Your happiness matters. I take it Harry didn't believe what you told him. If it would help," he offered, "I'll explain—"
Jillian blinked away the moisture clouding her vision. "There's nothing to explain," she interrupted and backed away leaving his hand in the air.
"Things have a way of working themselves out. He'll understand when he's had time to think about it. I almost wish…"
Jillian waited for him to finish his thought, but he didn't. "If wishes were horses, we wouldn't have been stuck here
." Her attempt at flippancy sounded forced and humorless.
"What are you going to do now?"
"Pack." Jillian followed the word with the action.
Matt trailed after her into the kitchen where she opened the door of the utility closet and pulled out several of the boxes she'd stashed there. He lingered silently as she went to the Christmas tree and began removing ornaments, placing them gently in the box.
"I didn't mean 'now,' this instant. I meant 'now,' from this moment on."
She didn't answer. Discussing her future with a man who immediately thought of birth control when the word love was mentioned seemed pointless. She had one of the small ornament boxes filled before he continued.
"You shouldn't… I don't think…" He cleared his throat. "Don't rush things."
Jillian turned on him. "What are you suggesting I do? Spit it out, Matt."
He took the box from her and set it on the table.
"I just don't want you to be upset or hurt." He lightly caressed her arms, then pulled her close. So close that if she took a deep breath she'd brush against his chest.
His whole attitude made her angry. It wasn't his dreams that had just gone down the drain. But it wasn't his fault, she reminded herself. She'd chosen to break her engagement to Harrison. She counted to ten. "I'll get over it."
"I don't like seeing a friend unhappy." One hand left her arm and he stroked her hair gently, his fingers lingering against her neck.
Friends? So that was what they were. "I'll live." She shrugged away from his touch. "Men! I'm about to decide I'm nuts for ever thinking I wanted one." She pulled out another box and resumed dismantling the tree.
"Jillian?" He sounded perplexed.
"Please. I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave me alone."
"You need time to put things into perspective. You should stay. You don't have to leave."
"No," she agreed, "but my reason for being here no longer exists."
Jillian sensed Matt's reluctance to drop the subject but managed to treat him like a piece of the furniture as he followed her around. He finally offered to fix them a light brunch while she finished taking decorations off the Christmas tree.
When Matt announced the meal, she sat down at the table and he handed her a bowl of fresh-from-the-can peaches. "About last night—"
"Please, Matt, I don't want to talk about it."
"Harrison's reaction—"
"That either," she interrupted again. He sighed and ate. Jillian endured the strained silence, punctuated only by the clatter of forks against plates as long as she could before asking, somewhat mockingly, "Now that my plans are taken care of, what are your plans?"
"I'll be going back to Topeka for a few days when I leave here."
"Oh?" She couldn't think of anything else to say. The questions she wanted to ask—did he ever get lonely? Did he have someone special anywhere? Did he have women waiting in every town between here and Denver?—didn't seem appropriate.
"I've got some business to take care of with Jim. Besides being my friend, he's my accountant, if you hadn't guessed. We grew up in the same town."
If Jillian was surprised, it was because he'd offered information without a full-scale probing operation. "Where is home now?" She spoke casually, telling herself she really didn't care, that anything was better than cold silence.
"Colorado, I guess."
"Is that your main office? How do you manage to run all your stores from a distance?" Nice safe topic, she thought.
"I hire good management people."
It was as brief an answer as possible. So much for safe. He didn't want to discuss himself, and she didn't want to talk about her over-before-it-began engagement. "Good omelet," she complimented, finishing as much as she could choke down, then pushing her plate aside. "Thank you. You'll forgive me if I leave the dishes for you?" She started to rise to go back to her packing, but he stopped her by reviving the conversation she'd thought ended.
"It'll take several days with Jim to finish up the year-end reports before I leave Topeka. That's one of the reasons I came here instead of going to my sister's for Christmas. I didn't want to turn around and come right back." Matt pushed his chair away from the table. "I also have to decide whether I want to sell my stores," he threw out.
Something in the way he said it asked for comment, but she couldn't think of any. She tilted her head expectantly, encouraging him to elaborate.
"I've had a pretty good offer from a national chain." Matt planted his feet wide and rocked the chair back on two legs. "Think I should take it?"
She felt flattered that he'd asked her opinion, yet leery. "I don't know. Do you want to?"
He shrugged.
"What will you do if you sell?"
He hooked his fingers in the pockets of his worn jeans. "I don't know. I won't have to do anything if I accept."
"I can't picture you being very good at doing nothing."
He seemed tense as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. "You see my dilemma?"
She nodded.
"But on the other hand, the challenge is definitely gone. I'm tired of selling jewelry to rich old ladies and foolish young men."
His gaze came to rest on Jillian's bare hand and she tucked it under her thigh. "Give it away," she suggested cattily.
"The stores or the jewelry?"
She relaxed and smiled. "Both."
He threw back his head and laughed. "I'm going to miss you, Jake." A teasing light came into his eyes. "Sure you don't want to stay? We could work through our dilemmas together."
"I don't have a dilemma," she replied abruptly and rose to go back to work.
"I'll come by and see you before I leave Topeka." The comment could have been either a promise or a threat.
However he meant it, Jillian was sure it wouldn't help her peace of mind. "I don't think that's such a good idea."
"You're afraid I'll hamper your reconciliation with Harrison?"
She gave him a puzzled scowl.
"If you want me to fix things up…" She wasn't sure if the distaste in his voice was for Harrison or for the proposed reunion.
Did he think the scene with Harrison was just a little spat to be cleared up with the Christmas debris? She opened her mouth to tell him, point-blank, that there would be no reconciliation, then snapped it shut. She didn't have anything to gain by discussing further. "Don't worry about it."
"But I will," he insisted, adding, "I don't cheat on important things."
His grin faded at her blank frown.
"I cheated the other night when we played Scrabble," he admitted sheepishly.
Her shoulders sagged with the anticlimax. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He ignored the question, as usual. "Arg isn't a word. I made it up."
He took one of her hands in his, confusing and frustrating her. "Damn it, Matt." She shook her hand free.
"I didn't know you took the game so seriously." His eyes matched the mischievous grin that inevitably managed to charm her.
"Damn you, Matt Carson," she swore softly again. "Would you get to the point?"
"Even though not making love to you was the hardest thing I've ever done, we didn't really do anything."
Only because you were so concerned about "protecting" yourself that I had time to think about my own welfare, she thought resentfully.
"I don't want you to blame me for the way things worked out." Matt's jaw set in a hard line. "Frankly, I don't want you to make up with him—he was deplorable—but I can't let my personal opinions cheat you out of something you really want. If Harry is important to you, I'll talk to him."
Jillian watched his hand clench. Why the offer? He obviously detested the whole idea. Was he afraid she'd throw herself on the floor, wrap her arms around his knees and beg him to make an honest woman of her? If he'd been watching her eyes, he would have seen angry sparks in them. She knew why he was so anxious to "fix" things.
Jillian took another deep breath and counted to t
wenty. "Are you reminding me that nothing happened between us because you're afraid I'll expect something from you?"
He took one look at her and immediately moved out of firing range.
His nervousness would have been amusing if she hadn't felt like throwing something at him. "Just be-cause you wanted to take Harrison's place in my bed, I don't expect you to step in now, okay?"
"I'm not good husband material—"
"Did you hear me say I thought you were?" She should have got a little satisfaction from his protest, but got mad instead. "You already warned me, Matt. Don't worry, I don't expect you to save my honor because Harrison mistakenly assumed you disgraced me."
Matt reached toward her and she avoided him the same way she'd avoided Harrison earlier. "Contrary to the way it may have seemed from time to time since we got here, I can handle my own life. Thanks, anyway."
She shook her head as if ridding herself of a bad dream. It wasn't going to be hard to say goodbye to Matt after all, she decided. Who needed him? For years, she and Grandma had fared quite well without having a man around.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jillian returned to her packing.
Matt asked to borrow her car. "I'll run into town to see about getting the electricity and phone back in service," he explained.
Jillian reached for her purse and fished out her keys. "Get your head checked," she said succinctly, throwing them at him. Then she went back to her work.
When he returned, she was trying to drag the seven-foot, long-needled pine out the back door. "Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked, sounding exasperated. "Let me help."
"I'm quite capable," she answered and continued tugging. One of the branches seemed to be caught on something.
Matt moved her out of the way and grabbed the bedraggled thing by its trunk.
"I got it in by myself," she said defensively, stepping out of the way as he backed it through the door.
"Yeah, I wondered about that the night I got here." He carried the once beautiful tree to the edge of the clearing, then walked toward her, brushing loose needles from his clothes. "I wondered how you got it in the stand by yourself."
"An old trick Grandma and I perfected," she said enigmatically, refusing to meet his eyes, refusing to let their relationship revert to its earlier easy camaraderie. She swung around, head proudly aloft, to go back inside.
