01_Gift from the Heart (9 page)

“Sorry about that.” Jack dropped back into his chair. “Minor crisis in the bedroom. Bobby’s foot got stuck under the dresser.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah. This kind of stuff happens ten times a day. So where were we? Oh, yeah. You were coveting my wife.”

Adam smiled. “Not really. I’m happy you found Theresa. I just wish I knew how you…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. You two have such an easy give-and-take. Like you’re always on the same wavelength at some really deep level.” He shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know how to explain it. Or how you do it. I wish I did.”

Jack shrugged. “There isn’t really a secret. You just share things. Make sure the other person always knows how you feel about stuff.”

Adam sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is.”

“Not for me.”

“You’re just different than me, Adam. You know, the still-waters-run-deep thing. A lot goes on under the surface. It doesn’t mean you feel any less than I do. I’m just more up-front with my emotions.”

“I wish I was.” Adam clasped his hands together and looked down. There was silence for a moment, and when he spoke again his voice was halting and laced with pain. “Sometimes I think I’m becoming just like Dad.”

“No way!” Jack exploded, his voice fierce as he leaned forward intently. “Don’t ever think that! Dad was a bitter, resentful, unkind man who was incapable of expressing love. I’m not even sure he knew what love was. If I didn’t dislike him so much, I’d feel sorry for him. I used to wonder what made him the way he was. But frankly, at this point I don’t even care anymore. God forgive me, but I’m glad he’s gone so my children won’t be exposed to him. You are nothing like him, Adam. Nothing!”

Adam searched Jack’s eyes. He wanted to believe his brother. But his fears ran deep. “Even if you’re right, I’m just as bad as he was about expressing emotions.”

Jack studied him. “Okay, so maybe you need a little work in that area. But the thing is, at least you feel them. He didn’t. You’re a kind, compassionate person. He wasn’t. I’m just sorry for what he did to you. For making you feel so awkward and uncomfortable about showing affection. For making you so afraid to let people get close.”

“But you lived there, too. You don’t have the same problems. Maybe it’s me, not him.”

“Uh-uh. Don’t buy it. I just have a different temperament. The old man and I clashed all the time because I never cared about winning his approval the way you did. I realized early on that it was a lost cause. That’s why I joined the navy when I was eighteen—to put as much distance between me and him as possible. And I never looked back.”

Adam leaned back and expelled a long breath. “You were smart.”

“So are you. The first step toward fixing a problem is recognizing it. You’ve done that.”

“Yeah. But I still don’t seem to be making much headway with Nicole. I just don’t know how to reach her.”

“She has other problems, Adam. She just lost her mom. She’s in a new town. She had to leave all her friends behind. She’s probably mad at life in general. That’s a lot of stuff to deal with. It’s not just you.”

“That’s what Clare says.”

“The new nanny?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she’s right. But if it’s any consolation, I think Nicole’s far less prickly now than when we visited you last summer. And the relationship between the two of you seems to be a little more cordial. That’s a step in the right direction.”

“I hope so. But I can’t really take the credit for any positive changes. Clare’s had a lot of influence on her.”

“Then three cheers for Clare! And you want to know something else? I think maybe she’s had a positive influence on you, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you realize that this is the first time in our lives that you actually opened up and shared your feelings with me? I’d say that’s cause for celebration. And if Clare’s the reason, more power to her. In fact, let’s drink an eggnog to that.”

He stood, but Adam put a hand out to restrain him. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t like eggnog.”

Jack leaned down and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m not crazy about it, either. But Theresa says it’s a holiday tradition and she won’t be happy until it’s all gone. So play along, okay?”

He returned a minute later with two large glasses. “How about we go out on the deck for some fresh air and have our eggnog,” he said in a louder-than-normal voice.

“Sure,” Adam replied with a grin.

They shrugged on their coats, and once they stepped out on the deck, Jack quickly dumped the eggnog behind a convenient bush. “Whew! Safe for another year,” he said with a mock sigh of relief. Then he withdrew two cans of soda from under his jacket and handed one to Adam. “Better?”

“Much.”

They popped the tops, and Jack’s face grew serious as he held his can up in a toast. “To all the things that really matter. And to Clare…may she continue to fish in still waters.”

Adam looked at Jack in surprise. That wasn’t his brother’s typical irreverent toast. But as he lifted his can, Adam couldn’t think of anything he’d rather drink to.

“Okay, enough about the bookshop and the ongoing saga with my partner, Mr. Conventional. Tell me about you.”

Clare grinned at A.J. Her sister had spent the last hour regaling her with hilarious tales of her escapades in Aunt Jo’s bookshop, from her drowned-rat arrival in the midst of a rainstorm to the apparent chaos she was wreaking on the peace of mind of her partner, Blake, who was having a hard time coping with A.J.’s many changes to the shop. Clare hadn’t laughed so much in years.

“I’m afraid my story isn’t nearly as entertaining,” she apologized.

“Well, lay it on me anyway. I take it you don’t have to fight the good doctor every step of the way like I do my nemesis?”

“No. I think he knew he was in over his head with his daughter and that he needed help. So he’s pretty much given me free rein with her.”

“Excellent. And how’s the problem child doing?”

“Coming around, I think. But it’ll take time. She’s had a lot of stuff to deal with.” Clare gave A.J. a quick recap.

When she finished, A.J. frowned. “Wow! That’s tough. Losing your mom, being uprooted, leaving your friends behind. No wonder she got off track.”

“And, of course, Adam bears the brunt of her anger. He tries to reach out to her, but she backs off. I know that hurts him. I can see it in his eyes. Bottom line, I think they’re both very lonely people who are hungry for affection and love but who live very isolated lives. Nicole is beginning to blossom, though. She just needed some nurturing and some guidance. I’m not sure what it will take to get through to Adam, though.”

A.J. eyed her speculatively. “But that’s not your problem, anyway, is it? You’re just supposed to be a nanny for Nicole. There wasn’t anything in the will about her father.”

Clare stared at the miniature tree in her tiny apartment. “True. But I’d like to help them both if I could. The opportunity to create a family is such a precious gift. I’d hate to see them throw it away.”

Clare’s voice broke on the last word, and A.J. reached over and squeezed her hand. “I know how hard this must be for you, Clare,” she murmured.

There was silence for a moment. Then Clare took a deep breath and turned to her sister. “It will be better after the holidays are over. It’s just that so many of the things I did with Nicole and Adam this year made me remember the good times with Dennis and David. We had wonderful Christmases, A.J. I want Nicole and Adam to have the same thing. For a lot longer than I did.”

A.J. nodded. “I understand. And I know you’ll do your best to make that happen.”

Clare did, too. But she didn’t know if her best would be good enough to heal the immense rift that threatened to keep father and daughter from ever becoming a real family.

Clare frowned at the columns of figures in front of her. Her financial situation was precarious at best. And today it had taken a turn for the worse. Of all the rotten times to need a root canal! Even though that tooth had been damaged in a sledding accident more than twenty-five years ago, it had never given her a bit of trouble. Until now. So much for the slight cushion her rent-free situation had provided. Her dental bills were going to wipe it out. But given the pain in her tooth, she didn’t have much choice. What a belated Christmas present!

A knock sounded at her door, and she looked up distractedly. Except for Nicole and, on rare occasion, Adam, she never had visitors. Especially in the middle of the day. Curious, she rose and moved toward the door. When she pulled it open, she was startled to discover Adam on the other side.

“Is everything all right?” she asked in alarm.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

She stared at him blankly, still trying to process his uncharacteristic midday appearance at her door. “Your tooth?” he prompted, when the silence lengthened.

“Oh! Right. My tooth. Is that why you stopped by?”

A faint flush crept up his neck. “I was on my way from the hospital to my office and had to swing by here to pick something up. I thought I’d drop in and see what Mark had to say.”

Clare had been reluctant to incur the expense of a dentist visit, but when her distress had been evident at dinner last evening, Adam had insisted on calling Mark Miller, a dentist friend in Asheville. He’d arranged for Clare to see him this morning.

“Oh. Well, come in for a minute. It’s cold in the hallway.” She moved farther into the room, and after a brief hesitation, Adam followed. “Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m just heating some soup. Would you like some?”

Another brief hesitation. “Don’t go to any trouble. I can only stay a few minutes.”

“It’s no trouble, and the soup is almost ready.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Have a seat at the table.” She preceded him, and he caught a glimpse of columns of numbers on the sheets of paper she quickly gathered up as she cleared a place for him.

“So tell me about the tooth,” he said as he shrugged out of his leather jacket.

She made a wry face. “Not good. I need a root canal.”

He grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” In more ways than one, she thought as she stowed her budget scribblings inside a drawer in the kitchen.

“When is he going to do it?”

“Friday. I figured that would give me the weekend to recover in case there are any aftereffects.”

Adam frowned. “Don’t wait on our account. If you need to take a day or so off, we can cope.”

“I’ll be fine.” She ladled the soup into two bowls and put them on the table, along with a basket of crackers and a plate of cookies. “I’m afraid this isn’t a very substantial lunch,” she apologized.

“It’s more than I often have,” he assured her. “Things get pretty crazy at the office and a lot of times I just skip lunch. I’m glad I didn’t today, though. This is delicious,” he said appreciatively as he sampled the hearty beef barley mixture.

“I like soup for lunch in the winter. It’s not hard to make, and one pot lasts me all week.”

He stopped eating long enough to look at her. “You made this?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“My compliments to the chef.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

As Adam wolfed down his soup, he realized that Clare was hardly making a dent in hers. She was eating each spoonful gingerly, taking care to avoid the tooth that needed work. “Are you sure you can wait till Friday?” he asked with a frown. “I could call Mark and ask him to fit you in sooner.”

She looked up from her bowl. “No. I’m just being careful. But don’t feel like you have to stay until I’m finished. I’m sure you’re in a hurry.”

Adam glanced at his watch. If he left immediately he’d barely get to the office in time for his first appointment. Which was his own fault. He’d only intended to make a quick inquiry, then be on his way. But Clare’s unexpected invitation had been too tempting to turn down. He rarely saw her alone, and the opportunity to spend a few minutes with her had been immensely appealing.

Adam wasn’t really sure why he’d detoured to the house at all. He certainly could have done without the file he’d retrieved from his home office. And a simple phone call would have sufficed to alleviate any concern he had about her dental problem. His impromptu visit had been impulsive and completely out of character, he acknowledged.

He looked over at Clare, noticing for the first time that she was wearing the blue sweater he and Nicole had given her for Christmas. He suddenly realized that it matched her expressive eyes exactly. His gaze dropped to her soft lips, lingered a moment too long, then returned to her eyes. And for just a moment he got lost in their azure depths. Lost enough to experience a brief moment of panic.

“I’m used to eating alone, Adam. So please don’t stay on my account,” Clare repeated, her voice now a bit breathless. “I can see you’re concerned about being late.”

In an abrupt move that momentarily startled her, he reached for his jacket, said his goodbyes and quickly made his escape.

Because suddenly he was concerned about far more than being late.

T
he midwinter cookout was a smashing success.

Clare breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the giggling clusters of girls roasting hot dogs around the bonfire, noting with satisfaction that Nicole was firmly ensconsed in the middle of one of them. Since she’d run into Candace at the Christmas festival in town, Nicole had seemed much happier. She talked about school more, and it sounded as if the girls had begun to include her in their activities. So Clare had thought a party might give Nicole another helping hand. She’d made it a point to talk to each of the mothers in advance, hoping to ensure good attendance, and her efforts had obviously paid off.

“Looks like they’re having fun, doesn’t it?”

Clare turned. Adam stood just behind her, holding the oversize thermos of hot chocolate he’d retrieved from the kitchen. She smiled and looked back at the group of girls. “I’d say so. It brings back memories of good times as a kid, doesn’t it?”

When Adam didn’t respond, she turned back to him. He had an odd expression on his face, one that she couldn’t quite identify. Instinctively she reached out to touch his arm. “What is it, Adam?” she asked softly.

For a moment he didn’t answer. Then he looked down at her gloved hand, which rested lightly on the sleeve of his sheepskin-lined jacket. A different expression flitted across his eyes, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob. A moment later, he nodded toward the thermos. “Where do you want this?”

He was ignoring her question. Which was certainly his right, since she’d trespassed on to personal ground. She should just let it go. But something compelled her to persist. “Adam, what’s wrong?” she tried again.

Reluctantly he raised his gaze to hers, as if he were afraid to let her see his eyes. But they were shuttered now, anyway. “Nothing.”

She replayed their conversation in her mind, wondering what she’d said to trigger his look. Then she briefly glanced back toward the bonfire. “This doesn’t bring back happy memories for you, does it?”

A muscle clenched in his jaw, and she was pretty sure he was going to ignore her question. But he surprised her by answering. “It doesn’t bring back memories of any kind,” he said flatly.

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t have the best childhood, Clare. Nothing like the one you described at Christmas. My mother died when I was six. I barely remember her. My father was a good provider, but he wasn’t exactly…demonstrative. He was a hard taskmaster who expected his sons to toe the line and not be distracted by frivolous things. We never had parties like this.”

Clare’s eyes softened with empathy. She couldn’t even imagine a childhood like the one Adam described, devoid of love and laughter. Suddenly a few more pieces of this man’s life clicked into place. How could you connect to people you love if you had no experience with love yourself, no example to follow? “I’m sorry, Adam. That wouldn’t have been an easy way to grow up.”

He shrugged stiffly. “It could have been worse. We always had a roof over our heads and we never went hungry.”

Maybe not for food, Clare thought. But his youthful diet sounded sadly lacking in emotional sustenance.

“So where do you want this?” he repeated.

She pointed toward a long table set back from the bonfire. “Anywhere over there is fine. Thank you.”

As she watched him walk away, his back ramrod straight, Clare’s heart ached for him. No wonder he’d had difficulty sustaining a marriage and bonding with his daughter. Being raised in a strict, emotionally cold environment would have left him ill-equipped for either task. Yet she knew that Adam craved emotional closeness. She could see the longing, as well as the discouragement, in his eyes when he looked at Nicole. He was obviously convinced that he didn’t have the tools to create the kind of bond he yearned for with his daughter.

But Clare was sure he was wrong. Because she’d seen something else in his eyes, as well. A fire burning deep in their depths. A capacity to love just waiting for release. A hunger to connect. She believed with all her heart that he desperately wanted to escape the loneliness that he thought was his destiny, to fill the emotional vacuum created by his sterile upbringing.

And she also believed that where there was a will, there was a way.

It might be one of the biggest challenges of her life, but Clare was determined to help Adam find the key that would unlock his heart so that he and Nicole could finally become a family.

Clare was freezing.

As she groggily came awake, she automatically reached for the fluffy comforter, only to realize it was already covering her. She frowned and peered at the illuminated face of her clock. Two in the morning.

Shivering, she reached for her bedside lamp and flipped it on, blinking as light flooded the room. Something was wrong with the heat, she realized, as a frosty cloud of breath suddenly appeared in front of her.

Clare didn’t have a clue about the heat source for her apartment. Adam had shown her how to work the thermostat when she’d moved in, and she’d never had a need to investigate further. So she had no idea how to fix the problem. She couldn’t bother Adam at this hour, but she had to do something. Even if she piled every blanket in the apartment on her bed, it wouldn’t be enough to keep her warm.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to get up. With shaking fingers she rummaged in the dresser for her heavy wool sweater and pulled it on over her nightgown. Then she slipped her arms into her velour robe. Finally, after wrapping the comforter around her shoulders, she padded out to the living room to examine the thermostat.

It didn’t surprise her to find that the temperature in the apartment was thirty-nine degrees. So her next stop was the furnace, which was probably in the garage, she speculated. She didn’t recall ever seeing it, but then again, she’d never really looked. As she searched in her kitchen cabinets for a flashlight, it occurred to her that even if she found the furnace, she doubted whether she could do anything to fix the problem.

But taking some kind of action beat sitting around freezing to death.

Adam wearily replaced the receiver on his bedside phone and wiped a hand across his face. Middle-of-the-night calls from his emergency answering service were one of the down sides of his job, and he’d never quite gotten used to being jarred awake so rudely. The resulting adrenaline rush always left him restless and unable to get back to sleep.

He rose and headed to the kitchen to get a drink of water before returning the patient’s call. As he reached for a glass, he glanced out the window toward the garage…and his hand froze in midair. Why were the lights on in Clare’s apartment?

A sudden wave of panic engulfed him, sending another surge of adrenaline through his veins. Then he forced himself to take a deep breath. Maybe she was doing the same thing he was doing—getting a drink of water, he rationalized. Just because she was up in the middle of the night didn’t mean there was a problem.

But after he drank his water and jotted a few notes about his conversation with the exchange, the light was still on. For a moment he hesitated. If all was well, Clare might consider his middle-of-the-night visit an intrusion. On the other hand, he knew he wouldn’t get another wink of sleep until he assured himself that everything was okay. He’d just have to risk her annoyance, he concluded, heading for his room to pull on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Adam shivered as he stepped outside, noting that the temperature had dropped substantially during the night. He wasted no time covering the ground between the house and garage, and when he reached the top of the stairs he rapped softly on the door.

A moment later he heard Clare’s cautious voice on the other side. “Yes?”

“Clare, it’s Adam. I saw your lights on. Is everything okay?”

Instead of a verbal response, he heard the lock sliding back. A moment later the door swung open.

Clare stood silhouetted by the light behind her. At least he thought it was Clare. But the apparition before him actually looked more like a mummy.

“Clare?”

She stepped aside, and now the light fell on her face. She was wrapped in some sort of quilt or comforter. “Boy, am I g-glad to s-see you!”

Her voice was shaky, and he moved beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“N-no heat.”

Adam suddenly became aware of the bone-chilling cold in the room. “What happened?”

“I wish I kn-knew. I just woke up a f-few minutes ago.”

Now he could see the clouds of breath when she spoke. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you at this hour. Why are you up, anyway?”

“Patient call. Look, you can’t stay here. Grab your coat and come back to the house. We’ll deal with this tomorrow.”

Instead of responding, she quickly dropped the comforter and pulled her coat out of the tiny hall closet. He held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves, but her fingers fumbled on the buttons. Finally she gave up and just bunched it closed with one hand.

Adam preceded her out the door. “Be careful on the steps,” he cautioned, eyeing her long robe. “In fact, let me go first.”

She followed closely on his heels, and when they reached the bottom, he flipped off the light in the stairwell and opened the door. A blast of cold air whipped past them as they stepped outside, and Clare faltered. Instinctively, Adam reached for her hand, enfolding her delicate fingers in his. The iciness of her skin startled him, and without even stopping to consider his actions, he drew her closer to his body and placed a hand protectively around her shoulders as he guided her toward the house.

When they reached the kitchen, Adam didn’t even pause. He continued toward the living room, eased her out of her coat, and gently pressed her into the chair closest to the fireplace. He retrieved the throw that was draped over the couch and tucked it around her, then knelt and set a match to the kindling in the grate. As flames began to lick up the sides of the dry wood, he returned to Clare’s side. She was still shivering noticeably, and he could hear her teeth chattering. He reached for her cold hands, cocooning them in his warm clasp.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

“Th-thank you.”

When Adam returned a few minutes later and silently handed Clare a steaming mug, she sent him a grateful look. “Thank you. This looks wonderful.”

But no more wonderful than she did, he realized. The flickering firelight cast a warm glow on her face, and her eyes looked large and luminous. Yet it was her hair that caught his attention. He had never seen it so loose and free before. It tumbled around her shoulders in disarray, gossamer strands of gold as fine as newly spun silk. Another rush of adrenaline that had nothing to do with his late-night patient call surged through him, and he felt an almost overpowering urge to reach out and run his fingers through her soft tresses. He stifled the impulse by jamming his fists into his pockets. What was wrong with him tonight?

Clare took several long sips of tea, then sighed contentedly and snuggled more deeply into the chair. “I’m finally starting to feel my fingers again. Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“You should have called me right away.”

“I hated to bother you in the middle of the night.”

“I would have been more bothered if I’d discovered that you tried to stick it out till morning. And maybe ended up with pneumonia in the process.”

“I never get sick. I told you, I’m stronger than I look.”

“Well, don’t push your luck. I need to return a call to my patient. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”

“Of course. Take your time.”

Adam was gone longer than he expected, and by the time he returned Clare had set the empty mug beside her chair and fallen asleep. With her hair spilling over one cheek, and her face in repose, she looked younger than ever. And more fragile, somehow, despite her claim about being strong.

Adam felt a bit indiscreet, standing there watching her sleep, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so lovely. And her loveliness went deeper than mere physical beauty. She was kind and sensitive and caring, and generous to a fault—much like Jo had been, he reflected. Despite her own pain, she had opened her heart to him and Nicole and given far more of herself than her job as nanny required. And because of that, she was making a huge difference in their lives.

Without conscious decision, Adam moved slowly toward her and tentatively touched her hair. It was whisper soft. Silky. And so appealing. Just like the woman.

Suddenly Adam was overcome by a longing so deep and intense that it took his breath away. Not just a longing for physical intimacy, but for an even deeper, more lasting connection. A connection of the heart, mind and soul. The kind that Jack and Theresa shared.

Jack had told him at Christmas that there was no secret to what he’d found with Theresa. It just required a willingness to reveal to special people what was in your heart. And Adam wanted to do that. Desperately. But the memories of his father’s ridicule the few times he’d tried, as a youth, to express his feelings were difficult to overcome. How did you move past that? How did you learn to trust the most fragile of all your possessions—your heart—with another person?

Adam stared at Clare and drew a long, unsteady breath. He didn’t know the answer to those questions. Nor was he sure he could find them. But unless he did, he would never make much headway with Nicole. She was his first priority. He needed to focus on their relationship, to find a way to welcome her into his heart. To open himself up and share.

Then maybe, if he succeeded with her, he would succeed with other relationships.

That was a big maybe, of course. And even if he got that far, even if he decided to explore another kind of relationship, he needed to move very slowly. He’d made impulsive decisions once, with Elaine, and the results had been disastrous. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Adam raked his fingers through his hair. The whole notion of emotional intimacy was uncharted territory for him. And he couldn’t exactly go out and buy a road map to show him the way. So he bowed his head and sought direction from a higher power.