by Cara Colter
“Friend of yours?” He carefully stripped his voice of the anger he was feeling that somehow this man had made her cry.
“Ex. Ex-friend, I mean.” The truth rode heavy in her tone. Aidan watched her with narrow eyes as she swallowed hard.
Her ex was putting up a seemingly endless series of posts? Gloating about his new life? He held the phone still out of her reach, continuing to study the picture.
“He wanted adventure,” Noelle said faintly, reluctantly, almost apologetically.
Aidan remembered, sickened at himself, how he had needled her—could it possibly be just yesterday—about a recent heartbreak. As if it was somehow all about him.
But in such a short time, he had seen the truth of her. Or maybe it was just this setting, but somehow Noelle seemed pure in a world that was tainted, innocent in a world that was sinfully excessive in every way. It was the very purity of her that had to be guarded against, the part of her that called to some forgotten place in him and tempted him to play, to be carefree, to let go a bit.
He had to protect himself from the unexpected sizzle she made him feel, not because of her wholesomeness, but in spite of it. He had to ward that awareness off, not just for his sake, but her own.
He’d already disappointed one woman who was far more worldly than Noelle!
Still, he could not stop himself from trying to say something that would make her feel better. “Well, if you call getting a sunburned head an adventure, I’d say he’s got it. That’s going to hurt like hell.”
“We can only hope,” she muttered, and he laughed and handed her her phone, which she turned off and put in her pocket.
“For what it’s worth,” he said softly, “he’s missing the greatest adventure of all.”
Now where had that come from? His implication was that sharing a life with her would be the greatest adventure of all.
Her mouth opened. And shut. And opened again. Finally a sound squeaked out.
“I’m apparently a bit of a stick-in-the-mud. A controller.” She hiccupped. “Even my grandfather said it was true. That’s why he didn’t tell me about anyone else coming for Christmas. Because he thought I would have tried to wreck it before he even got it off the ground.”
“Would you have?”
“Yes.”
“Just for his own good,” he said gently.
“He said if I wasn’t careful I’d end up all rigid and shrieking and wanting everyone to follow my rules.”
“Ouch.”
“I need to quit meddling. I told you there was no cell service here for your own good, too.”
“Not just to be mean?” he teased. He realized he liked teasing her. He liked throwing snowballs at her. He liked making gingerbread houses with her.
“I thought I knew what was best for Tess,” Noelle said wistfully. “I thought she needed your undivided attention, without distractions from work. None of my business, right? I’m so certain I know what’s right for everyone that I’ll lie! It’s disgusting.”
There was a little trickle of tears sliding down her cheeks again. Couldn’t she see how much it meant to him that she cared about Tess like that?
He touched her shoulder. It was so slight under his hand. It made her seem exactly as she was—small, vulnerable, needing him in some way.
To validate her, to protect her, to see her. “You have a good, good heart, Ellie McGregor.”
Embarrassed, she tried to slide out from under his touch. But he would have none of it. Instead of letting her by, he blocked her way.
When she tilted her head up at him, looking askance, he touched her chin with the tip of his pointer finger and looked at her face.
The fight seemed to leave her. She looked back at him. She looked at him in a way he was not sure he’d ever been looked at before, deeply and intently, as if she was divining secrets about him he did not even know himself.
It felt as if she was turning the tables on him, giving him what he had intended to give her.
He dropped his finger from her chin.
He ordered himself to go, to get away from her. He warned himself he could not be trusted with this kind of innocence, this kind of purity.
But instead of leaving, he put his arms around her and tugged her into his chest, closed his hands on the small of her back and held her tight.
A small mew of protest came from her, followed swiftly by a sigh of surrender. She snuggled into his chest. And then she let go. She wept.
Finally, when the front of his jacket was pretty much soaked, she pulled away from him.
“I’m so sorry. It’s been a hard few months. First, my grandfather sold the land. Then my grandmother died. Then Mitchell ended our engagement.”
And despite the fact that it had been a hard few months, she had overcome his initial rudeness to her to embrace the needs of his daughter. He thought of how she was working at creating the perfect Christmas, her devotion to it almost fierce.
Aidan Phillips felt something he had not felt for a long, long time. The shame of self-recognition.
He had become a self-centered jerk!
“I should go in,” she said uncomfortably, swiping again at her face with her sleeve.
“Don’t rush off,” he said. “Let’s sit for a minute. Look at those stars tonight. I don’t remember the last time I paused to look at things. To really see them.”
He lowered himself in the hay, and after a moment she sat down beside him, and they looked out the loft door at the humbling largeness of a star-studded universe.
“It’s one of the things I always love about coming here,” Noelle said. “Life seems simpler, I feel as if I notice small things more—the smell of wood smoke, the feel of the dog’s fur under my fingertips, the stars at night.”
The quiet of the night, Noelle at his side, the expanse of the universe all stirred in him a stunning desire.
Just to be a better man. Maybe not forever, but for this moment.
“So,” he asked her softly, “what do you think made you want to fix all that is wrong in the world? In my experience, people who are like that usually have a reason.”
She hesitated. Aidan could tell she didn’t share private things. She was reserved. He was practically a stranger. And yet the invitation of that bejeweled night sky, of a larger world, seemed to be working on her, too.
“My mom and dad died when I was twelve,” she said. “That’s when I came here to live with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“I’m so sorry. How?”
“A car wreck. It was springtime. It seemed as if good weather had come. A freak storm came out of nowhere, and they slid into a truck. They died instantly, which people told me was a blessing.
“And people told me they loved each other so much—which I already knew, of course—and that they had chosen to be together for eternity.”
“That’s a very thoughtless thing to say,” he said gruffly.
She turned to him, her eyes wide.
“Why would you say that?”
“Obviously your mother and father loved you that much, too. They would have never chosen to leave you. What utter clap-trap.”
She sighed and leaned into him. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I heard it all, too, when Sierra died. People mean well, but honestly, the things they say sometimes! She’s in a better place? What better place is there than with your baby? God needed another angel? Her little girl needed a mommy.
“Tess was barely two when her mother died, and I saw how it affected her and still does. The loss of both your parents must have been devastating for you.”
“Yes.”
Some deep bond of understanding grief connected them.
Then, seemingly randomly, his phone began to ping, as service kicked in and one by one his messages arrived.
He fought a desire to ta
ke his phone out of his pocket and hurl it into the night.
“Haven’t heard that sound for a while. I can’t say I missed it. I thought I would. But I haven’t. Amazingly, the world turned without me.”
“I think that’s what my grandfather was trying to tell me tonight—that life will unfold, whether I have a stranglehold on it or not. Go ahead,” she said. “See what’s unfolded.”
“Not just yet,” he said quietly. “Not just yet.”
And she leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her, and they experienced the glory of the night. But it was cold, and he felt her, after a while, shiver against him.
“Let’s go in,” he suggested.
“Check your messages first. You never know when you might get another opportunity. The stars have to line up just so.”
It seemed to him the stars had lined up just so tonight, and it had nothing to do with receiving cell service. Still, he did have obligations, and people were counting on him to meet those. He pulled his phone out, reluctant to join the world, liking this one, with its quiet and simplicity and connection, just fine. He scanned the messages very quickly, dismissively.
“Work. Work. Work. Christmas Enchantment Ball. Work. Work.”
“The Christmas Enchantment Ball?” she asked.
He scrolled back to the annual ball held each year, always the evening before Christmas Eve, to honor those who gave to charities. “Tomorrow night. The theme this year is Silver Bells.”
“I think it’s still the biggest event on Calgary’s social calendar,” Noelle said. “My mom and dad were invited once. It was one of the highlights of my mom’s life. She got the invitation because she’d been the top fund-raiser for the children’s hospital that year. How do you rate a ticket?”
His company was highly philanthropic, and they were always given a block of tickets. There would probably be thirty people from Wrangler there this year.
“Never underestimate the power of charm and good looks,” he said, waggling his eyebrows wickedly at her.
That earned him a smack in the arm, which he rubbed dramatically. She shivered again and he got up and extended his hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet.
He looked at her. She looked back at him. The stars all seemed to be lining up... She leaned in. He leaned in.
And then his phone pinged, a small sound that sounded like an alarm going off. They leaped back from each other as if Tess had happened upon them.
He looked at his phone, an excuse not to look at her, not to wonder what on earth her lips would taste like. Would they taste as sweet as they looked, like plump dew-encrusted strawberries, fresh from the plant?
He stared intently at the incoming message, at first not even registering what it said. But when it did penetrate, he lifted his shocked eyes to hers.
“Noelle, they found one.”
“One what?”
“Guess.”
“Jerry?”
“That’s it! They found a Jerry Juicejar.”
She laughed, sharing his delight and his incredulous disbelief. “It’s a Christmas miracle,” she teased him. “Of all those messages, even the one about the Christmas Enchantment Ball, that’s the one that means the most to you, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea,” he said, and gave a whoop of pure happiness. “I’ll fly in tomorrow and pick him up, then he’ll be under the tree waiting for Tess on Christmas morning.”
And then it occurred to him. He was being given an opportunity, not just to pick up Jerry Juicejar.
No, maybe it wasn’t about that at all.
He was being given an opportunity to be a better man. Not to put his guard up but to let it down, just for a little bit, and just for one shining moment to put her needs ahead of his own. He thought of the wistfulness in her voice when she had mentioned the Christmas Enchantment Ball. He thought of how hard she had been working to make Christmas divine for his thus-far-disappointed-in-the-festivities daughter, despite her own year of losses.
He thought he had just come up with the best Christmas surprise ever. Even the importance of Jerry Juicejar paled in comparison.
“Why don’t you come?” he asked softly.
“What? Me?”
He made a point of looking around the empty hayloft and then back at her. “Sure. Don’t you have any last-minute Christmas shopping to do? We could pick up Jerry, do a bit of shopping and go for lunch.”
Then I can surprise her with the ball.
She was silent, struggling.
“To be honest, I’m a little afraid of the helicopter,” Noelle said, finally. “I hope you won’t think I’m hopeless, but I’ve never flown anywhere, never even been on an airplane. I think it’s one of those control things. You can probably see why Mitchell left for greener—”
“Stop it,” he ordered her firmly, and then more softly, “You can trust me, Noelle.”
Her eyes, as green as moss, as soft as a caress, rested on his face.
It felt as if all those stars in the sky, not to mention his heart, stood still, waiting to decide if he was worthy to give the gift he had just offered.
And was he worthy? Could he be trusted with someone like her? Not if he thought lecherous thoughts about pillaging her lips!
CHAPTER NINE
NOELLE STARED AT AIDAN.
She had to say no. She had just revealed her deepest heartaches to him. He felt sorry for her. That was what had prompted this invitation.
But perhaps there was a different way to see it. What if it was an opportunity? This was exactly what her grandfather had wanted her to learn: to say yes to life, instead of no. It was an opportunity to get out of her comfort zone! And she needed to take it.
Plus, ever since the tree had gone up in the living room, she had been aware she had no Christmas gifts to put under it for Tess or Nana or Aidan. And she knew the perfect thing to get them!
If she went to Calgary with Aidan, she could get them each a pair of skates so that they all could skate on the pond Christmas morning, a McGregor tradition.
“You know what?” she said. “Yes, I’ll come.” It was not as if they were marching off to explore the jungles of South America. They were going to Calgary for an afternoon. In the adventure department it probably barely rated.
Except for the helicopter part.
Except for the Aidan Phillips part.
“Good girl,” he said softly.
And just then she realized she did not want him to think of her as a girl, a heartbroken little waif who had been orphaned at twelve. Who wore pajamas with penguins on them and slippers shaped like hairy monsters, and had hardly changed a thing in the room she had had since she was twelve.
That was not how she wanted Aidan Phillips to see her at all. And she was fairly certain, from the way his eyes had rested on her lips a few minutes ago, that maybe that was not how he saw her. Not completely.
“Of course, I’ll ask Nana and Tess to come, too. I wouldn’t want to deprive Tess of my undivided attention on our holiday.”
Why did she feel disappointed, her own words coming back to bite her?
He cocked his head. “What is that noise? Is somebody there?” He stepped in front of her as if he might have to protect her from marauders.
In some ways, it was a very nice feeling to have someone want to protect her. But she had a feeling that Aidan might be trying to protect her from himself, from the attraction that leaped in the air between them. She realized she had told him quite a bit about herself tonight, but she still virtually knew nothing of him. One more excellent reason to go to Calgary with him!
“It’s only horses,” she said.
“I didn’t know there were horses. How have we managed to keep that from Tess?”
“Good question,” she murmured. Should she warn him her grandfather was pla
nning a special Christmas surprise? One that would possibly eclipse even the much-coveted Jerry Juicejar?
It seemed much kinder to just let Aidan enjoy his victory in the Christmas dad department.
Or was it simply duplicitous on her part? Considering her initial hesitation in accepting his invitation to join him on his trip to Calgary, she now didn’t want to do anything to spoil the moment or put her invitation in jeopardy.
The next morning, Tess announced in no uncertain terms she was not leaving the ranch. She was not leaving her new best friend, Smiley. Nana had promised Christmas cookie baking. She wanted to play outside in the snow.
“I agree,” Nana said, seeming pleased by the decision. “It will just make everything simpler if we stay. If you could pick me up a few fresh vegetables, that would be great.”
“Noelle? I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Noelle’s grandfather beckoned her to the hall. He handed her a crumpled roll of bills.
“I wasn’t ’spectin’ Nana. It would just be rude not to have a present for her. Nothing too personal. No jewelry or anything.”
“No, I understand perfectly.” But looking at how flustered her grandfather was, she was not certain that she did.
“So much for Tess wanting my undivided attention,” Aidan said an hour later, after he had filed his flight plan over the phone and they had gone out to the helicopter. He helped Noelle into it. “She’s used to me being away for long periods.”
“I actually think she’s very secure in your love,” Noelle said.
“Huh. I actually think my affections have been replaced by those of a dog. Jerry Juicejar will change all that, though. Take that, Smiley!” Despite making light of it, Noelle could tell it mattered to him that she approved of his parenting. Somehow it felt good that her opinion had value with him.
His good humor, his total lack of nervousness as he went through his preflight checks, helped Noelle feel slightly calmer. Still, when he handed her the earphones her heart was beating way too fast, and her palms were sweating as the engines started and the blades slowly, and then rapidly, began to turn.
