A Knight Before Christmas

by Alicia Dean

  No. She couldn't let that happen. Something had to be

  done before the money ran out. She just wished she knew

  what the hell that something was.

  When Heath entered the kitchen the next morning, his

  mother was limping around, making breakfast. "Mom! What

  are you doing?"

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  She swiveled on her crutches as naturally as if she'd been

  wearing them since birth. "Oh. You're up. Your brother's still

  in bed. I'll have your breakfast ready in a jiff."

  "No way. Sit down." He took the carton of eggs from her

  hand. Bacon was already sizzling in the skillet. "I'll make

  breakfast. You're hobbled."

  She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Now, watch it,

  buster. A little broken ankle's not gonna hobble me." She

  took the eggs back from him. "Sit. Let me cook. I'm perfectly

  capable of taking care of my boys."

  Heath had learned long ago not to argue with her, so he

  poured a cup of coffee and let her have her way. "You in

  pain?"

  "No, hon. No pain. Just a pain in my butt because it takes

  longer to do all the things I want to do."

  "So the injury didn't stop you, just slowed you down."

  She turned and flashed him a smile. " Barely slowed me

  down."

  Heath didn't understand how she could be so jolly, so

  happy, under the circumstances. Her husband of forty years

  had cheated on her. Had a child with another woman. Heath

  hadn't spoken directly with his mother about it, and he didn't

  particularly want to know details, but he needed to get it out

  in the open.

  "Mom, I need to talk to you."

  Something about his tone must have conveyed the gravity

  of the situation. She turned, her expression one of wariness.

  "Yes?"

  "How can you be okay with this?"

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  "With what?"

  "Dad. The affair." Heath rose and went to stand beside

  her. "How did it not tear your marriage apart?"

  She was silent for a moment, then she picked up an egg

  and cracked it on the edge of the skillet before dropping the

  contents onto the melted butter. She picked up a second egg

  and did the same. "I am not okay with it." Her voice was low

  but steady. "I could never be okay with that kind of betrayal,

  but I tried to understand as best I could. I loved your father

  more than anything else in the world. He was lonely, had

  faced death, saw his friends die in front of his eyes." She

  shrugged. "I could understand how something like that could

  happen. Don't you?"

  Heath shook his head. "No. He made a commitment to

  you. You were a good wife to him."

  "Yes. And he was a good husband. Everything's not black

  and white, Heath darling. You have no idea what your father

  was dealing with over there. He was so very young. People

  aren't perfect. They make mistakes."

  "Yeah, and nearly forty years later, his mistake is coming

  into our lives. And he's not around to face the music."

  "Heath!" She looked at him, eyes wide. "Don't speak ill of

  your father."

  "I'm sorry, Mom. You've had years to get used to it. I

  haven't."

  "Yes, but I'm the one he cheated on. If I can handle it, I'd

  think you can."

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  "It goes against everything we were brought up to believe.

  All those years, him shoving loyalty down my throat. For

  what?"

  She flipped the eggs over, her movements jerky, as if

  using the spatula as a fencing sword. When she turned to

  Heath, he could see she'd lost her patience. "I'll tell you for

  what. Because it's what he believed. And, for the fact that he

  raised three beautiful, kind sons, and if you ended up getting

  an extra dose of loyalty because your father wasn't using all

  his, then I reckon that's something you should be thanking

  the good Lord for."

  Heath stared back at her for a moment, then turned and

  headed for the kitchen door, but halted before he reached it.

  He wouldn't walk out on his mother, wouldn't be that

  disrespectful. After all, she wasn't the one he was really angry

  with. And since the guilty party wasn't here to explain

  himself, it was best to just drop it.

  He walked over and put his arms around his mother. At

  first, she stiffened against his hug, then her body relaxed,

  and she hugged him back.

  "I'm so sorry, son. I'm sorry your father couldn't be

  perfect. But mostly I'm sorry you had to find out that he

  wasn't. Please don't think it didn't hurt me. It did. And trust

  me, I'm proud as can be that you're not like that. Proud of

  you for being a man of principles. Just remember, your father

  loved you, and he'd want you to forgive him."

  "I know," Heath said, but he didn't promise he would.

  Maybe it would happen someday, but that day wasn't here

  yet.

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  "We're having Christmas dinner early," his mother said.

  "So you can eat with us before you head back."

  "Good. I would have hated to miss out."

  "I still don't get why you have to meet that man on

  Christmas day. Doesn't he realize it's a holiday?"

  "He does, but he doesn't celebrate it."

  "Yes, but you do."

  "I'm sorry, Mom. It's business. Very important business for

  the company. I have to be there."

  Besides, he was certain by then, he'd be ready to flee.

  Amelia dished up his breakfast and handed him the plate.

  She sat across from him at the kitchen table and watched

  while he put away eggs, hash browns, bacon and toast.

  In a not so subtle attempt to steer the conversation away

  from sensitive matters, she said, "So, tell me, son. How are

  things going for you? Your company doing well? I know you

  had a hard time deciding to give up being a police officer."

  She was right. It had been a difficult decision, but after

  years of seeing his fellow officers risk their lives—and some

  lose them, only to see the same assholes back out on the

  streets—he'd had to call it quits. He was no longer able to

  sleep at night, knowing everything he'd done that day had

  been for naught.

  In truth, the picture wasn't quite that bleak, but he drove

  himself crazy thinking it was. After a particularly disturbing

  incident, he'd finally turned in his badge.

  He and his partner, Joe, went out on a domestic

  disturbance call and found a coked-out thug pounding on his

  wife. Before they could cuff him, he pulled a gun and shot

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  Joe. Heath wrestled the suspect to the ground and disarmed

  him, then called for an ambulance.

  Once Heath cuffed the guy and was performing CPR on

  Joe, trying to keep him alive until help arrive
d, the wife went

  into a rage, kicking at Joe, screaming at the two of them,

  telling them not to take her husband to jail. It was all Heath

  could do not to finish what her old man had started. His

  partner lay bleeding on the ground after she'd called them for

  help, and now she was furious at him, the man who'd saved

  her ass.

  Joe survived, but Heath's love for the job hadn't. The thug

  was back on the streets the next day. Not long after, he beat

  his wife to death. That had been enough for Heath. He'd left

  the force and never looked back.

  Heath finished chewing, then swallowed the food with a

  drink of coffee. "It's going well. I like what I do. Business is

  good."

  "Is it dangerous, this security work?"

  "Nah. Concerts, frightened women in divorce proceedings,

  the occasional celebrity in town, stuff like that. Nothing to

  worry about."

  "Well, you do know how I like to worry."

  Heath grinned. "That, I do. A mother's curse, right?"

  "Right." She grinned back. "Maybe someday, you'll have a

  child of your own to worry about. You have a girlfriend? Any

  women in your life I should know about?"

  An image of Nicolette flashed through his mind, but he

  quickly banished it. "No. No one serious. I date once in a

  while."

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  "You must be lonely. I wish you lived closer. Wish you and

  Clint both did. Especially when—" She gave him a stern look.

  " If you give me grandchildren. I don't want to see them only

  on the holidays, you know."

  "I tell you what, Mom. When I have kids, I'll make sure

  you see them once a month, how's that?" Heath felt confident

  making that claim. He didn't believe he'd ever have children.

  Unlike his baby brother, who'd been married twice and was

  currently engaged, he'd never met anyone he wanted to

  dedicate the rest of his life to, much less procreate with. Well,

  other than Nicolette. And that had been a foolish college

  dream born of youth and misplaced optimism.

  "Don't lie to me, young man. I won't forget your promise."

  Before Heath could respond, footsteps sounded at the

  doorway. Alex and a stunning blonde walked in. She wore

  dark blue jeans and a form-fitting blue T-shirt. To Heath's

  untrained eye, her outfit appeared expensive and probably

  had been designed by someone with a name Heath couldn't

  spell or pronounce.

  Alex made the introductions. Heath's suspicions were

  confirmed; this was Sydney, his future sister-in-law. Heath

  instantly disliked her, and he couldn't help but wonder if

  Alex's third foray into marriage would end as disastrously as

  the first two.

  He sighed and inwardly chastised himself. Maybe he was

  just projecting his own dismal outlook of happily-ever-after

  onto his brother. It wasn't Sydney and Alex's fault that

  Heath's Mrs. Right married his best friend.

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  Alex and Sydney joined him at the table while his mother

  rose to make eggs for Alex.

  "I'll just have dry toast and a fruit cup," Sydney said, her

  tone insinuating that eating anything else would be

  preposterous.

  Heath tried to make small talk, but he liked Sydney less

  and pitied Alex more with every second that passed. His

  appetite waned, but he forced down as much of the breakfast

  as he could. He knew too well the fate of those who tried to

  leave Amelia King's kitchen without heartily partaking of her

  food.

  Shutting out Sydney's incessant complaints, his thoughts

  drifted back to Nicolette and how quickly his time with her

  ended. There was no way he'd see her again unless he made

  the effort. From what he gathered last night, she wouldn't be

  receptive even if he decided getting in touch with her was a

  good idea, which he definitely knew wasn't. His heart and his

  libido said it was a super-duper idea, but neither of them had

  a habit of making good decisions.

  Clint entered the room. Heath barely acknowledged him

  when he sat down at the table. Heath should make an effort

  to be better company for his brothers. Clint had driven over

  five-hundred miles. Alex was on the verge of marrying—

  again—and all Heath could think about were his own

  problems. Selfish bastard.

  "Mom said you went with Nicolette to a ceremony for Rudy

  last night?" Clint said. "How was it?"

  Out of the din of chatter, Heath realized this remark was

  directed at him. He halted in the act of forking a piece of egg.

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  "I didn't go with Nicolette. I saw her there. It was a nice

  ceremony. Rudy would have been proud."

  Clint didn't reply as he dug into his own breakfast.

  Apparently, the eldest King brother had issues of his own. He

  seemed not to be in a talkative mood, which suited Heath just

  fine. The room fell into silence, save for the sound of forks

  against plates until Alex rose from his chair.

  "Excuse me, Mom. Breakfast was wonderful. I'm going

  upstairs to shower and change."

  Amelia didn't turn as she responded, continuing to scoop

  bacon onto the paper towel so it could drain and stacking

  more pancakes onto the growing pile. "I've got breakfast for

  the girls. You can spend time with them while Zoe's setting

  up."

  Amidst a bevy of shuffling noises and more chatter, Alex

  left, then Sydney. A few moments later, Amelia turned her

  spatula over to Clint and retrieved her crutches before also

  leaving.

  Heath stood and carried his dishes to the sink, then

  headed to the doorway. Before he could escape, Clint's voice

  stopped him. "Hey."

  "Hm?"

  "What's going on with you? You're a hundred miles away.

  Everything okay?"

  Didn't he wish. If he were a hundred miles away, he

  wouldn't be dealing with all the bullshit. Well, that wasn't

  entirely true. If he were a hundred miles away, or even a

  thousand, he would still know what his father had done, and

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  he would still be pining for a woman he could never have.

  Heath decided to give his brother a condensed version.

  "Yeah, everything's fine. Trying to adjust to all the

  changes. You know. A lot's happened lately."

  A lot had happened all right, but Heath knew there was

  much more to come. The thought had his insides twisted up

  like a pretzel.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  56

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  Chapter Four

  Nicolette alternated between staring out her kitchen

  window at the too-slowly rising sun, to peering at the clock on

  the microwave as she waited until she assumed Heath was

  out of bed and she wouldn't disturb him.


  Heath. Bed. Damn.

  She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat.

  She'd slept in a cold, empty bed for so long that the image of

  lying next to a warm body—Heath's body—initiated a longing

  deep within her. She imagined opening her eyes to find him

  lying next to her, shifting against him and hearing him

  murmur in his deep, husky voice. Feeling her hands run over

  his chest...a tingling starting between her thighs...

  Stop it! She could not think of Heath that way. She still

  wasn't over Rudy's death, and even if she were ready to start

  something up with a man, it could not be Heath. Not ever.

  Heath was her friend. Nothing more.

  She sighed and took a sip of her coffee, then stood to pace

  restlessly across the kitchen floor. Sleep had eluded her last

  night, her stomach a tight knot of fear as she lay awake,

  staring at the shadows that played across the ceiling.

  This was the first time the blackmailer made physical

  contact. In the four months since all this started, he'd left

  notes, made phone calls, given her instructions, nothing

  more. She'd made the drops as instructed—always at a new

  location—and never run into him. Until now. First the phone

  call to Louisa's home, now the scare in the parking garage.

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  He was escalating. He'd asked for one payment a month in

  the beginning. Now he wanted his next payment two weeks

  after the last.

  The money was drying up, and would soon run completely

  out. Rudy's life insurance wouldn't be enough to keep the

  blackmailer satisfied for long. Would he go through with his

  threat and kill someone she loved? Although, there weren't

  that many people in her life he could go after.

  God. She'd never really thought about how alone she was.

  She hadn't felt the lack of family as deeply when Rudy was

  alive. He and Louisa had been all she needed. Nicolette had

  never been very good at cultivating friendships. She'd learned

  from her childhood to keep people at bay. The less others

  knew about her, the better.

  How different would things be if she knew where her father

  was? Would he be a loving, protective kind of dad who would

  shield his little girl from all the unpleasantness? She hadn't

  seen him since she'd left for college, but the father she