“I try not to,” Amanda admitted. “I want to believe that she was taken by somebody—a woman or even a couple—who desperately wanted a child but couldn’t have one of their own. And maybe it seemed unfair, that I had two beautiful little girls—” she lifted her napkin to dab at the tears that trembled on her lashes “—so they took one home.”
It was the same scenario that Serena clung to—the one that allowed her to sleep at night. It couldn’t change the fact that her sister had been cruelly ripped from the arms of her loving family, but she desperately needed to believe that, wherever she was now, Mimi was loved and cared for and didn’t miss her real family at all.
She reached across the table and touched her mother’s hand.
“She was such a sweet child,” Amanda said, turning her palm over to clasp her daughter’s hand.
Serena nodded, feeling as if their joined hands were squeezing her heart.
“I should have held on to her tighter,” her mother said.
“I was—” Serena swallowed. “I was holding Mimi’s hand,” she reminded Amanda.
Her mother’s brow furrowed, as if she was struggling to remember, then she shook her head. “You were a child yourself. I never should have made you responsible for your sister.”
“I thought you blamed me,” she said. “I thought that’s why...”
“Why I turned into an alcoholic?” Amanda guessed.
She nodded again.
“I hate knowing that you could ever believe such a thing,” her mother said, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “That I ever let you believe such a thing.”
“I blamed myself,” Serena confided.
“It wasn’t your fault. Please tell me you know that none of what happened was your fault,” Amanda implored.
“I do know. Now,” she said. “Most of the time, anyway.”
Her mother gave Serena’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it as the waitress approached with their plates.
“You were the only light in my darkest days,” Amanda said when the server had gone. “You were never responsible for any of the wrong choices I made, but you were the biggest part of the reason why I was finally able to get sober.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she said, and she’d always felt a little bit guilty about that.
“You always were, and still are, my sweet, beautiful daughter. And I want to earn the right to be your mother again, to be worthy of your love again.”
“You always were, and still are, my mother. And I have always, and still do, love you,” Serena told her.
Amanda’s lips started to curve, then her smile wobbled. “Dammit,” she said, and lifted her napkin to dab at the tears that trembled on her lashes. “I promised myself that I wasn’t going to get weepy today.”
Serena’s own eyes were watery as she picked up her fork. “So tell me more about Mark,” she said, suspecting they’d both appreciate a change in the topic of conversation.
“He’s asked me to go with him tomorrow to cut down a Christmas tree,” her mother said.
Serena sipped from her glass of water while she considered this information. For most people, it would be a traditional holiday event, but she knew that holiday events were often triggers for her mom.
“How do you feel about that?” she asked cautiously.
“Scared,” Amanda admitted. “I find it’s easier to get through the holidays if I pretend they don’t exist.”
“Not easy to do when the whole town is decked out in red and green,” Serena noted.
“Well, apparently, the world does continue to turn through the whole month of December—at least for everyone else.”
“You know, you can tell him no,” she said. “If you’re not ready.”
“I’ve been saying no for the past three years,” her mother confided. “I think it’s time to say yes. I want you to know that I’m strong enough to say yes.”
“Don’t do this for me,” Serena said. “Please.”
“I’m not. I’m doing it for Mark, and for me. Okay, and maybe a little bit for you...and for Mimi.”
Serena swallowed another sip of water—along with the lump in her throat. “Then you better get a huge tree and decorate it with hundreds of twinkling lights and tons of sparkly ornaments.”
“We will,” her mother promised.
And Serena trusted that they would.
Chapter Ten
There’d been plenty of chores around Sunshine Farm to keep Bailey’s hands busy throughout the week, but the physical labor hadn’t stopped him from thinking about Serena, wondering what she was doing and wishing he was with her instead of fixing fence, moving hay or cleaning tack. But he knew that she was busy, too, with her responsibilities at the vet clinic, preparations for the holidays and, of course, her animals.
By Friday, he could hardly wait for their date that night. In the afternoon, he slipped away from the ranch for a few hours to meet Brendan Tanner at the community center.
“This town is truly amazing,” Brendan remarked, after they’d sorted through the gifts that had been donated for Presents for Patriots.
“You must not get out much,” Bailey said dryly.
The other man chuckled. “I’ve been to a lot of places—bigger cities, prettier towns.” He sighed wistfully. “Places with pizza delivery.”
“There is something to be said for the luxury of food brought to your door,” Bailey agreed.
“On the other hand, people who don’t have that option are forced to go out and interact with other people,” Brendan noted. “Maybe that’s why there’s such a strong sense of community in Rust Creek Falls.”
“I don’t think pizza delivery would jeopardize the town’s identity.”
“It’s something to think about, anyway,” the retired marine said.
Bailey stood back and looked at the pile of gifts. “Where did all this stuff come from?”
“Rumor has it that Arthur Swinton donates the majority of these gifts every year,” Brendan remarked.
“Since when do you put any stock in gossip?” Bailey asked.
His friend shrugged. “It seems to be a favorite pastime in this town.”
“Because there’s not much else to do.”
“Well, it’s a fact that Swinton bankrolled this whole place,” Brendan told him, gesturing to their surroundings. “The Grace Traub Community Center was made possible by his generous support.”
“Who is this Swinton guy?”
“The former mayor of Thunder Canyon who went to prison for embezzlement several years back.”
“He built this place with stolen money?”
Brendan chuckled. “No, I’m pretty sure he paid that back.”
Bailey was captivated by this tidbit, but he wasn’t nearly as interested in history as he was the future. More specifically, his future plans with Serena. He surveyed all they’d accomplished. “Looks like we’re done here. Is it okay if I take off?”
“Hot date tonight?” his friend teased.
“Just heading into Kalispell to grab a bite and catch a movie,” he said, deliberately not answering the question.
“By yourself?”
“No,” he admitted. “With...a friend.”
“Serena Langley?” Brendan guessed.
“Yeah.”
“I guess the rumor mill got that one right, too.”
“I don’t want to know,” Bailey told him.
His friend chuckled again. “Well, have a good time tonight.”
Bailey planned on it.
He’d made reservations at a popular steak and seafood restaurant in Kalispell and previewed the movie listings so they could discuss their options over dinner. He’d been looking forward to this date with Serena all week, and he hoped that she had been, too.
So he was understandab
ly surprised when she opened the door in response to his knock and he saw that she was dressed in flannel pajamas with fuzzy slippers on her feet.
“I don’t think the restaurant has a dress code, but considering that it’s only twenty degrees outside, you might want to put on a pair of boots.”
“Restaurant?” she echoed, then winced. “Oh, right. Dinner and a movie.”
“You forgot our date,” he realized, surprised and more than a little disappointed.
“I did. I’m sorry. It was just a really lousy day, and when I got home, all I wanted were my pj’s. And ice cream,” she admitted.
He looked closer, saw the puffiness lingering around her eyes. “You’ve been crying.”
“I’m out of ice cream,” she said, her eyes filling with fresh tears.
“You had lunch with your mom today,” he suddenly remembered.
She nodded. “But that was fine. My mother’s really doing well.”
“So what happened after lunch?” he asked.
“Thelma McGee came in with Oreo,” she said.
“I’m not yet seeing the connection between your tears and cookies,” he confided.
She managed a smile as she shook her head. “Oreo is—was—Thelma’s black-and-white cat.”
The was finally clued him in to the cause of her distress. He drew her into his arms, a silent offer of comfort.
She choked on a sob. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” he assured her.
“Believe it or not, I’m getting better at dealing with the loss of an animal,” she told him. “But it’s never easy. And Thelma had Oreo for seventeen years.”
“That’s a pretty good life span for a cat, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she confirmed.
But he understood that when you loved something—or someone—and your time together came to an end, it was never long enough.
“She was sitting with him in the exam room, waiting for the doctor to come in, holding Oreo close to her chest, silent tears falling. And Oreo lifted a paw to her cheek, as if to comfort her.”
Listening to Serena recount the story now, even he felt as if his chest was being squeezed. He could only imagine how much more heart-wrenching it had been for her in the moment.
“I love my job,” she told him.
Bailey continued to rub her back. “I know you do.”
She sighed. “But sometimes...I really hate my job.”
“That’s understandable,” he assured her.
She sniffled again. “I need a tissue.”
He pulled one from the box on the sideboard, offered it to her.
“Thanks.” She wiped her nose. “I can’t believe I completely forgot about our plans for tonight.”
“It’s not too late, if you want to go put some clothes on.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “But I really don’t feel up to going anywhere tonight.”
“Do you feel up to company?” he asked.
“You want to stay?”
“Well, I know for a fact that you’ve got a decent movie collection. And popcorn.”
“But no ice cream.”
“Do you want me to go get you some ice cream?”
She nodded her head against his chest.
“What kind?”
“It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s real ice cream.”
“I didn’t know there was such a thing as fake ice cream,” he told her.
“Low-fat ice cream, frozen yogurt, sorbet—they’re all fake ice cream.”
“I’ll get the real stuff,” he promised.
He wasn’t gone long, and when he came back, he offered her a ribbon-tied paper bundle.
“I meant to pick up flowers for you earlier, but I forgot.”
“At least you didn’t forget our date,” she said, as she unwrapped the bouquet of red carnations and white chrysanthemums with accents of red berries and seasonal greens. “And these are beautiful, thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
“What else have you got there?” she asked, noting the two grocery bags he set on the counter.
“Ice cream.”
“That’s a lot of ice cream,” she remarked.
“I picked up a couple frozen pizzas, too, in case you get hungry for food. That way, we won’t have to go out.” He opened the freezer and stowed the pizzas away, then unpacked the ice cream.
Four different flavors of ice cream: chocolate chip cookie dough, mint chocolate chip, black cherry and butterscotch ripple.
She took a couple bowls out of the cupboard, then retrieved spoons and a scoop from the utensil drawer.
“Why don’t you scoop up the ice cream while I put these flowers in some water?” she suggested.
He took the scoop she handed to him. “What kind do you want?”
“How am I supposed to decide when there are so many options?”
“A scoop of each?” he suggested.
“That would probably be a little overindulgent.” She found a vase under the sink, filled it with water. “Maybe a little bit of mint chocolate chip and a little chocolate chip cookie dough.”
While he dished up the ice cream, she snipped the stems off the flowers, arranged them in the vase, then set the bouquet in the center of the dining room table.
He handed her a bowl of ice cream. She noted that he’d gone for the butterscotch.
“Die Hard 2?” she suggested.
“Sounds good to me.”
So they sat down with their ice cream and prepared to watch Bruce Willis fight bad guys at Washington Dulles International Airport.
When the British jet crashed on the runway, Bailey caught a flickering motion in the corner of his eye and realized it was Molly’s tail twitching from side to side. Apparently the cat had overcome her distrust of him, at least enough to climb up onto the table beside the sofa and lap the remnants of ice cream from his bowl.
“Is she allowed to have that?” he asked Serena.
“Do you want to take it away from her?” she countered.
“No,” he admitted.
She smiled. “A little bit of ice cream isn’t going to hurt her.”
“But will it make her like me?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“How about you?” he asked, sliding his arm across her shoulders. “Did I earn points for feeding you ice cream?”
“You did.” Then she dropped her head back against his chest and turned her attention back to the movie.
Though he’d wanted to take her out on a “real date” tonight, he realized that he was more than content to be here with her now. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable and relaxed with his ex-wife. Emily was a social creature who’d always wanted to be going somewhere and doing something, and Bailey had almost forgotten that it could be fun just to relax.
“I’m going to preheat the oven for pizza,” he said, after the hero had ejected himself from the cockpit of a plane.
“Why does it seem like you’re always feeding me?” Serena asked when Bailey had completed his task and returned to his seat beside her.
“It’s just frozen pizza.”
She shifted slightly to face him. “Which doesn’t answer my question,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “We seem to hang out together around meal times. And you made dinner for me after our shopping trip last week,” he pointed out.
“That was once.”
“Are we keeping score?” he asked, sounding amused.
“No.” Then she revised her response, “Maybe.”
He chuckled. “If you’re really concerned about balancing the scales, you could offer to cook for me again sometime.”
Serena considered this idea in conjunction with other thoughts n
udging at her mind—and desires humming in her veins. “How about breakfast?” she suggested impulsively.
“Breakfast?” Bailey echoed.
“You know—the meal generally served in the morning,” she clarified, her deliberately casual tone a marked contrast to the frantic beating of her heart. “Maybe after you’ve spent the night.”
Heat supplanted the humor in his gaze. “When were you thinking you might make me this breakfast?”
The kisses they’d already shared assured her that the attraction she felt was reciprocated and gave her the courage to boldly respond, “Tomorrow.”
Then, because she wanted him more than she wanted to watch a movie she’d seen a dozen times before, she breached the scant distance between them and touched her mouth to his.
That first contact was all it took to have desire pour through her system like molten lava, heating every part of her. What she’d intended to be a quick and easy kiss quickly changed, their mutual desire growing stronger and more intense. When he eased her back onto the sofa, she lifted her arms to link them behind his head, drawing him down with her, welcoming the weight of his body pressing her into the cushions. Her lips parted willingly when he deepened the kiss; her tongue dipped and dallied with his.
His hands skimmed down her sides, scorching her skin even through the fabric of her pajama top. She wanted to strip away her clothes and feel his hands on her bare skin; she wanted to strip away his clothes and use her hands on his bare skin. She wanted—
Beep-beep-beep.
Bailey drew in a ragged breath and eased away from her. “I better get that pizza in the oven.”
After taking a moment to catch her own breath, Serena opened her eyes and found all three animals sitting in a row, staring at her.
“You have no right to judge me,” she told them, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.
“Especially you,” she said, pointing the control at Marvin. “Because you’d show your private parts to anyone for a belly rub.” He pressed his wet nose to her leg, an acknowledgment more than an apology.
“And you act like you don’t like him,” she said to Molly. “But that didn’t stop you from licking his ice cream bowl.” The calico lifted her butt in the air and extended her front paws out in front of her, stretching lazily.
Bring Me a Maverick for Christmas! Page 12
