Christmas Wishes...Special Delivery Page 5

  “Can we leave now?” Rosie let out a squeal as she hopped up and down like a human pogo stick, clapping her mittened hands with glee. The packed snow crunched beneath her feet and Moose darted in short, clipped circles at her side, barking. “Right now?”

  “First things first.” Riley crouched to Rosie’s level, eye to eye, burying his knee in the snow. “Would you mind to run into the house for a few minutes, check on Princess Fluffy before we leave? I have to talk to your mom.”

  Rosie’s nose scrunched as her lips dipped to a frown. “Is this private grown-up stuff?”

  “Yep, it is.” Riley smoothed wisps of hair from Rosie’s flushed cheek. “Real important, too.”

  “Yuck. OK. Come on, Moose.” Rosie patted her leg for Moose to follow, and wasted no time making her getaway. She raced toward the steps with Moose at her heels, most likely would have scaled them two-at-a-time were her legs long enough. When she reached the porch, she paused just long enough to holler, “Come get me when you’re done. I want to be part of the ’bration, too.”

  “I will.” Riley called back. “I promise, sweetie.”

  Then the door slammed behind her, and Kaylee was left in the chill with Riley. The wind swirled around them, nipping at the nape of Kaylee’s neck. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and stood there, waiting. A storm was coming, more dangerous than the snow that had just blown through. She felt it in every nerve-ending, and the thought made her shiver.

  “I’m sorry.” Riley broke the ice, so to speak, with those two simple words. “This has gone on long enough, this…whatever you want to call it—disagreement, argument, debate. I take full responsibility. I was wrong. I hurt you.”

  The heartfelt words shocked the chill from her. Warmth flooded, and Kaylee huffed out a long, ragged breath. “It’s OK.”

  “No, it’s not.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, gave them a gentle squeeze. “It’s never OK to hurt someone you care about.”

  “I don’t…” She shrugged from him, turned to clomp through the snow as a slow burn ignited in her belly. “Why now, Riley? After all this time, why now?”

  “We’ve left this undone long enough.”

  Kaylee picked up speed, putting distance between them. “On the contrary, it was done a long time ago.”

  “I have things to say—things that need to be said. I’ve changed, Kaylee. I don’t know why or how. I just know I feel…” His boots crushed the snow as he came after her. His voice held an edge sharp as steel, pleading. “Don’t walk away, Kaylee. I want to work this out. We have to work this out.”

  “There’s nothing to work out.” She spun back to face him, matching his heat spark for spark, ember for ember. “We’ve both changed, Riley. Time—events beyond our control—have changed us—altered what we once shared. It’s OK. I’ve come to terms with it.”

  “Have you?”

  “Yes. Change, however painful, is a part of life. I have Rosie to consider now. I don’t have time to be…all muddled.”

  “Muddled? Is that what you’d call it?” He reached for her hand, drawing her close. His breath rushed out in puffs like the smoke of a coal engine as he dipped his head, blocking the glare of the sun. In an instant, his lips claimed hers. One moment, two, seemed like eons as the ground shifted beneath Kaylee’s feet. Her heart jolted as a shockwave shuddered through her. Powerless, she leaned into him, let go of the thin fiber of resolve that had bound her for so long.

  “How’s that for muddled?” Riley’s husky voice broke the spell.

  “What have you done?” Kaylee gasped as Riley loosened his grasp and stepped back. Her eyes flew open and his gaze, dark and dangerous with need, speared her. “That’s…not fair, Riley. None of this is fair.” She pressed a gloved finger to her lips. The warmth of his touch, the shock of raw emotion, left her reeling. Her breath rolled out in small, white puffs as the chill rushed in once again—a slap of cold, harsh reality. “You can’t just march back into my life, say the things you said yesterday—the things you’re saying now—and then do that.”

  “I believe I just did.” He stroked the length of her hair, his fingers full of the tenderness she’d once taken for granted. “I care about you, Kaylee. I do. I’m just not sure what to do with this feeling—so powerful. I’ve never felt anything like it before you—or since. I thought going away would change things, but coming here again, seeing you, has made me realize it’s only grown stronger.”

  Kaylee stood there, her heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. She thought, for a moment, that the raw depth of his words might short-circuit her breathing, quite possibly bring on a heart-attack.

  “You don’t mean that, Riley. Maybe you feel something now, or maybe you just think you feel something. But when the courtroom calls—when the next high-profile case hits the headlines—you’ll feel the wanderlust, and, just like that”—She yanked off her glove, snapped her fingers to drive the point home—“you’ll be gone again.”

  “You think so?” His gaze lingered a moment while he smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek, let the callused pad of his thumb slide along the length of her jaw to sear her skin. “Well, I suppose we’ll see.” He dropped his hand and turned away. “I’m going to get Rosie. The evergreens are waiting to be claimed. It’s time we had a measure of Christmas cheer around here.”

  5

  Kaylee skittered about the living room of the guest house like an ant on a hot fudge sundae. Her nerves hummed with every step, and she wasn’t sure if that was the result of too many cups of hot chocolate or the fact that she’d just spent the better part of the day with Riley, and he still stood near…across the cozy living room, to be exact.

  They’d finally coaxed Rosie to sleep and now lights twinkled from a tall, lush Douglas Fir nestled into a corner across from the modest fireplace. It had taken Rosie and Riley, with Kaylee’s input, nearly an hour to select the plush evergreen from Maple Ridge Tree Farm, nestled just south of town. Riley had harvested it himself, bound it to the roof of his Escalade, and hauled it home for them to decorate following dinner with Ruth at the main house.

  Like a family, complete with giggles and wide-eyed wonder from sweet Rosie, rounds of cream-topped hot chocolate and a plate of sugar cookies Ruth had whipped up while the trio tree-hunted. Soft music whispered from the stereo as Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite played. Kaylee could almost see the marzipan dancing around as the nutcracker came to life. For the first time this winter, holiday cheer filled her.

  Today truly marked the beginning of her first Christmas season with a child—with Rosie. That was certainly something to celebrate, and she hoped there would be many more, prayed Rosie would somehow remain together with her, for good.

  “Why so pensive?” Riley’s question drew Kaylee back. She turned as he added a log to the fire and then settled on the couch. He patted the cushion beside him. “You look miles and miles away. Come sit with me.”

  “I was just thinking about what you said earlier…about Cody, and Rosie’s mother.” Kaylee swallowed the lump that leapt to her throat. “What if you’re right? What if one of them—or both—change their mind about wanting her back? What then?”

  “I can help you, Kaylee. I’ve had experience with this type of situation, working at the firm. Let me help you sort through everything to do what’s best for Rosie.”

  Simple words…so much meaning. She turned back toward the tree, let the twinkle of colorful lights and the glitter of tinsel calm her fears. Princess Fluffy curled beneath the lower boughs, nestled in the crimson velvet skirt that Kaylee had purchased on a whim at the mall a few weeks ago. They’d return to the bustling mall again this week—she, Rosie and Riley. Riley had promised Rosie a visit with Santa. The child insisted she had a special request—one that only Santa could fill.

  “First Princess Fluffy, followed by a road trip for a beautiful Christmas tree.” Kaylee’s pulse quickened at the gentleness Riley had shown to Rosie. “Then a promised visit with Santa. You’re a softie
when it comes to Rosie’s sweet smile and spirited requests, Riley Harper. But, what might possibly come next?”

  “Her security…your peace of mind.” Riley’s gentle voice coaxed while the twinkling lights and crisp pine scent mesmerized Kaylee to an almost dreamy state. The flicker of fire warmed her cheeks as his fingers searched for hers, twined them together. How had so much time elapsed since they’d last been together, yet Riley’s presence—his touch—felt so natural and right? “The rest of the decorations can wait. Sit with me, Kaylee. Let’s talk this out.”

  Kaylee’s gaze drifted to the window. Outside, stars danced as darkness spread over the meadow. A blanket of white shimmered and sighed as the cold set in and held tight. “I can’t believe the snow has lasted this long.”

  “Definitely an East Tennessee fluke, this early in the season.” Riley’s gaze followed her, searching. “Is that what we’re going to talk about—the weather?”

  “It reminds me of that night…”

  “Don’t.” He shook his head as a veil slipped over his eyes. “Don’t go there, not now.”

  “I need to.” Kaylee pulled her fingers back, turned away. She understood with clarity that what lingered between them could only be made completely whole again with truth and honesty, no matter how painful that might be. “They were arguing, my mom and dad. Had constantly since he hurt his leg in that construction accident and couldn’t find work. All Dad knew was how to labor with his hands, with tools, and that had been taken from him, no matter how hard he tried to find work. Doctor’s visits and medications, that’s what his life had become.” She flattened a hand to the window ledge and leaned in, her back to Riley and her face pressed to the pane so her breath fogged the glass. She couldn’t bear to look at him—not now, not with the memories flooding back. “I was listening through the bedroom door…I guess they thought closing it would keep me from hearing. But it didn’t. Such angry and hurtful words from people who’d never said so much as a cross word to one another before that. It broke my heart. I thought I’d be moving the next year…heading to nursing school. At the time, a part of me wanted the days to speed up because I was sick of it—sick of the fighting, while the rest of me yearned to capture and hold onto the carefree moments that you and I shared. I started to call you, drew my cell phone from the pocket of my jeans to dial your number. I could smell the marigolds you’d given me, sweet and musky as if they’d been drenched in sunshine. I’d arranged them in a vase on my dresser. I wondered again where you’d found them on such a cold and snowy day and I thought of the way you’d kissed me when you gave them to me that afternoon. I needed you so much then, Riley, that my heart ached with it…for you.”

  She turned her cheek to the glass, glad for the cold that soothed her flaming skin. Tears pooled in her eyes, turning the starlight to puddles of silver. “Everything swirled together like a tempest—the heated words spilling from the closed door, my feelings for you. It was frightening, all of it. Then the bedroom door flew open and Dad staggered out as if the house was on fire, with Mom shouting after him. I stood there, paralyzed with fear as a chill rushed in. The front door slammed so hard the house shook. I cringed as tires squealed down the road. I remember thinking, ‘That’s not my father. It can’t be my father. He would never leave like this.’” She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened to him that night. I don’t understand why…”

  “There is no understanding, Kaylee.” Riley bunched his hands into fists at his side. “It just is.”

  “My mom sobbed the whole time he was gone. I’d never heard her cry like that—like a mortally-wounded animal. When the news came…about what happened, I couldn’t fathom it, couldn’t breathe. My heart broke yet I wanted to be there for you. I thought, ‘Riley and I will get through this together. We’ll help each other and everything will be OK.’” Her tears spilled freely now, dripping onto the window ledge. “But, I’ll never forget when I finally found you at the hospital, sitting on a bench in the chapel. You wouldn’t take my hand, could hardly bear to look at me. I was so cold, Riley, just standing there.” Feeling the chill rush in once again, she wrapped her arms around herself. “And when you did finally speak, the hollow tone of your voice and the daggers in your eyes told me nothing between us would ever be the same again.”

  “And it can’t possibly be the same again.” Riley shook his head as he circled her waist, drew her close so her back nestled against his chest. “But it can be better…more.”

  Kaylee sniffled as she struggled to bring her tears under control. The warmth of him chased away the chill and she let herself tumble as an inner war ensued. Riley…the man presented a perfect paradox. Kaylee’s heart tugged at the nearness of him while her brain warned that his words were like the boxes that held holiday decorations she sorted through—pretty packaging, nothing more.

  “It’s too late, Riley. It frightens me too much, the thought of loving you and losing you again. I can’t stand to ever see that look in your eyes—hear that hollow, hopeless tone—again.”

  “You won’t lose me.” Riley pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “Give me a chance, Kaylee. I was young…foolish and hurting. I was barely a man back then and certainly lacked the wisdom necessary to deal with a situation so devastating.”

  Kaylee pressed a fist to her mouth as she hiccoughed, then swiped tears from her cheeks. Her lips trembled as she gathered words. “But you’ve found it now…this wisdom you need?”

  “There’s no simple answer to that question. I’m searching, suppose I’ve been searching for a long time, even though I’m just now beginning to realize what the years away from here, from you, have done to me. Coming back, seeing you, I realize all I’ve missed out on. I feel as if I’ve woken from a deep, exhausting sleep.”

  She understood exactly what he meant because she felt it, as well. As the gentle heat from him warmed, her nerve endings fired and her pulse thrummed like a guitar string that had been skillfully plucked. She drew a deep breath and stilled for a moment, simply reveling in the feeling. Then, calling on every ounce of willpower she possessed, Kaylee stepped away, breaking contact. She smoothed a hand over her sweater and moderated her voice.

  “Thank you for the tree.” She crossed the room to grasp a bough. Her fingers came away sticky with the scent of pine and she inhaled deeply, waiting for the room to right itself. A bell tingled from a blown-glass ornament, piquing Fluffy’s interest so the kitten scampered from the tree skirt to mewl around Kaylee’s ankles. “It’s gorgeous, and you certainly delighted Rosie.”

  “It pleased me, as well, to see her so happy.” He shifted feet and Kaylee saw a flash in his eyes that said he feared he’d lost her for good. Maybe he had. Time would tell.

  “I can’t imagine my life without her, Riley—can’t imagine sending her back to the sorrowful place she came from. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. But he needs help that he refuses to seek. You and I both know the devastation that can lead to.” She shook her head. “I won’t take that chance and absolutely refuse to place Rosie in jeopardy. Perhaps you’re right about letting you help. Are there papers you can have drawn up? Something quick and painless that would guarantee Rosie would remain with me, at least as long as she wants to?”

  “I’ll get the ball rolling, try my best to make the process as painless and quick as possible.” Riley jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Do you think Cody—or his ex-girlfriend—will object?”

  “I don’t see why.”

  “OK.” Riley took a tentative step toward her, drew her in once more. “In the meantime, I’d like you to trust me, Kaylee, to trust the love I feel for you. Do you think that’s possible?”

  ****

  Riley toweled water from his hair and shrugged into a T-shirt as he padded across the bedroom. The scuffed wood floor creaked with age, reminding him of the memories that lingered. Down the hall, Gran’s less-than-dainty snores told him she was sound asleep. He was glad she’d found a portion of rest—it must b
e difficult to slumber alone in a bed that had been shared with her husband for nearly fifty-five years.

  He thought of the grizzle-haired man who’d possessed a quick wit and slow temper. Rarely had Gramps ever raised his voice to anyone. He didn’t have to—his very presence demanded respect. He’d stood the test of time as a man of honor; Riley had never known him to go back on a promise or place blame where it didn’t firmly belong. Gramps had set a first-class example of what it meant to be a husband, father, grandfather and friend…as well as a true and faithful believer. Riley had been fortunate—truly blessed—to be the grandson of such a godly man.

  Remembering that, dwelling on it, brought home just how badly Riley had missed the mark in that department—especially when it came to Kaylee.

  Tonight she’d spilled her heart to him, and he saw the cost of her words in the tears that flooded her eyes, heard the echo of heartache in her anguished voice. How had he missed the fact that, in the weeks and months…the years following the accident, she’d been left so alone? He’d had Gran and Gramps…had always had them, even before he’d lost his mother. He’d spent the better part of his childhood running through the meadow, roaming the woods. His earliest memories included Gramps and Gran…their laughter and gentle guidance.

  His memories included Kaylee, as well. Friends practically since the first day they’d both stepped foot into Maple Ridge Elementary and settled into the kindergarten story circle side-by-side, they’d shared winter days and summer twilight. Over the years, their friendship had flourished into something rich and deep. He’d fallen in love with her…as deeply in love as a seventeen-year-old could tumble. Back then, before he lost his mother and then, later on, Gramps, he didn’t understand the depth of that emotion—the power. But, now, with time thieving his days and experience on his side, the gravity of his love for her—love that yesterday he was sure had evaporated like raindrops in a gust of wind—pierced and gripped like a vice.