A Christmas to Remember (21 page)

Of course he nodded. A person would have to be blind to miss the orange, lime, and red building plunked in the middle of the shopping center parking lot.

“I’ll meet you there.” With a wave, she climbed into the truck and sighed as heat surrounded her. It was wonderful what a difference forty degrees could make.

And the prospect of time alone with a sexy man.

On the way to the restaurant, she called Mary Epps—neighbor, friend, and John’s surrogate grandmother—to clear her plans. Naturally, Mary encouraged her to stay as long as she liked. Although she had been single herself for nearly twenty years following an ugly divorce and intended to die that way, she thought Ilena needed to stay open to the idea of another man in her life.

With a glance at the headlights in her rearview mirror, Ilena acknowledged that she’d always been open. Losing Juan had broken her heart, not her spirit. She had too much love to give. She liked being part of a couple, snuggling in bed, fighting and making up and making love. She wanted more babies. It would have been perfect if she’d been able to have all that with Juan, but loving someone else could be perfect, too.

“Big thoughts for a first date,” she chided herself as she steered into the turn lane in front of Tallgrass Center. Not even a date, really. A date required planning, while this was a spur-of-the-moment coffee invite. But it was the closest she’d gotten to a date since the last one with Juan, so she would count it.

Besides, although she’d fallen in love with Juan about ten minutes after meeting him, and thought muscular, dark-skinned, and dark-eyed was sexy as hell, she’d always had a soft spot for tall, lean guys with blue-black hair and Irish blue eyes. Even if they came from New York.

She claimed the parking space nearest Three Amigos’ door, waited for Jared to approach, then slid out of the truck. Together they hustled across the lot, heads ducked into the wind. He opened the heavy door for her—aw, she loved little courtesies—and once again comforting warmth welcomed them.

The hostess gave a double-take, probably appreciating a new, handsome face, then she proved Ilena wrong. “For a moment there, I thought it was Tuesday again. Nice to see you on this lovely Thursday night. Follow me, please.”

As soon as they were seated at a table for two in a dimly lit corner, Ilena shrugged out of her coat, then swiped off the hat and bounced it with a jingle. “You get credit for being seen in public with me wearing this. But hey, when you’ve got the tunic, the tights, and the pointy shoes, the hat doesn’t matter so much.”

“What? I don’t seem the kind of person who would appear in public with a beautiful woman?”

She tried to hold in her snicker but couldn’t call it successful. She loved compliments, but she didn’t believe most of them. Charming men said charming, if untrue, things. “A woman, sure. An elf, no.”

“But here I am. I proved you wrong.” A slight smile crossed his features, just reaching his eyes. “You mentioned you’re from Texas. How long have you lived in Tallgrass?”

“Four years. Juan was on his second deployment when he died. I thought about going home, but I had just found out I was pregnant, and I’m a lot closer to his family in Tulsa than my own. Plus, my margarita girls are here so John has more aunties than he knows what to do with.”

Once again he raised one brow in question. It was a very elegant brow. “Your margarita girls?”

“A bunch of us meet here every week. The Tuesday Night Margarita Club, also known as the Fort Murphy Widows Club. It started as a support group, and now we’re the best friends ever. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the last year without them.”

He didn’t seem to know quite what to say, but she was used to that. Death was a difficult subject for most people, including, apparently, some doctors.

She slid the flip-through drink menu in the middle of the table his way. “I hear that everything they make here is good, but the only thing I can personally recommend besides the iced tea is the dessert coffee. It’s brown sugar, cinnamon, cloves, cocoa, and whipped cream, and it’s incredible.”

“Is there coffee in it, too?” he asked drily.

She smirked at him. Never let it be said that a sexy guy could fluster her. She’d learned at an early age that she was what she was: smart, competent, simple, and, at times, silly, klutzy, and a bit of an airhead.
What you see is what you get.
People loved her, or they didn’t, and she was okay with that.

She would bet people loved him. What wasn’t to like, besides his accent that was a little too East Coast for her tastes? Time and his new neighbors would dilute that. Maybe he was a little preppy with his clothes, but he wore the look well. He was a pediatrician willing to work in rural Oklahoma, and he’d volunteered for the Prairie Elf Fundation, God love him.

In fact, as he gave the waitress their order for two dessert coffees, the thought occurred to Ilena that maybe she wouldn’t discourage Joanie’s matchmaking efforts after all. She wanted to fall in love again, and the only way to do that was to meet guys. The odds that Jared would be that guy were slim, but someone would be. She knew it in her heart.

Besides, wouldn’t it be fun finding out if Jared
might
be the one?

Friday was another cold day, the sky clear, crisp, thin white clouds sharp against an even sharper blue. The wind rustled dead leaves and trash across the street ahead of Jared’s car, and people hurried along the downtown sidewalk, traveling between offices, restaurants, and shops. When he had a few hours, he intended to check out the antique shops. His mother might appreciate Oklahoma more if he found a gift from its early days for her collection.

But today wasn’t the day. He’d closed the office at four, taking advantage of the slow clinic days while they lasted, and now he was on a mission. Back home, he would have a hundred stores to choose from. Better than that, he would have a dozen or so people to delegate the job to and would go into work Monday morning to find it all completed.

“You’re not in New York anymore, Doc,” he murmured as he turned into the parking lot of the best shopping destination in Tallgrass for civilians: Walmart.

He parked as far from the entrance as was possible, then hiked across the lot, entering at the garden center. The patio was filled with lighted, moving outdoor decorations that made him cringe, along with live Christmas trees. Their fragrance was muted but stirred a yearning for the Maine cottage where the Connors family spent Christmas Day. This would be the first Christmas he’d ever missed, but he couldn’t go back so soon. Family dinner wouldn’t be worth the pressure.

Inside the store, he located a display of artificial Christmas trees: all sizes and shapes, some pre-lit, some so skinny they were just short of pathetic. The best one was six feet tall, its tag said, but stuffed into a box that was only five feet tall. With his hand resting on top, he looked it up and down, wondering if there was any chance it was vacuum-packed: cut away the box and, poof, the tree resumed its normal shape.

“In case you haven’t figured it out, this box isn’t fitting in that itty-bitty car of yours.”

Ilena stood a few feet away, wearing a dress and boots, her hair mussed from the cap that occupied the kid seat of her cart along with her coat and gloves. A child seat, the kind that converted for a car, filled the bottom of the cart, and from it peered a round brown face, solemn eyes, and a Santa-themed pacifier. John Gomez looked nothing like his mother. Everything like his father?

Tough competition.

Jared forced his gaze from the baby to Ilena. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he remarked as he studied her. The dress was emerald green, quite possibly the best color in the world for her white-blond hair and fair skin. It ended above her knees, where black tights led into black boots. Together, the outfit conspired to hide her lush curves inside straight falls of fabric and leather.

“Lucky for you, I happen to have an SUV with plenty of room for a tree. What are you putting on it?”

That simply, she offered to deliver his package, even though it was surely out of her way. Could she also be persuaded to keep him company while he put up the tree? Maybe have dinner with him afterward? Keep him from spending one more night alone in his room at the B&B?

Her question registered belatedly, and he gestured toward the sample tree. “Don’t you think it has an air of simple elegance the way it is?”

Grinning, she shook her head.

“Of course not. I bet you think it needs at least a hundred ornaments on it.”

“A hundred?” She snorted. “That wouldn’t even be a start for an Ilena Elf tree. The decorations are over here.”

He left the tree and followed her and John across a few aisles. The dress didn’t fit nearly as snugly as he would like, but it hinted at womanly curves, softness and warmth and welcome. Each time he saw her, he felt a little more in need of warmth and welcome.

“Is the tree for your house?”

“Don’t have one yet. It’s for the office.”

“Little hands and climbers, so nothing breakable.” She asked more questions that hadn’t occurred to him—color preference, theme, tree skirt, icicles—and in no time had boxes and packages stacked in every bit of cart space John wasn’t occupying. They returned for the tree-in-a-box, then went to the check-out line. As Jared began unloading items, she shrugged into her coat, hat, and gloves, then tucked a quilt over John before hefting his seat from the cart. “Why don’t you get rung up, and I’ll meet you outside?”

She was halfway to the door, him watching her, before he remembered to respond. “Sure. Thanks.”

At the manual door, she turned to shove it open with her back, grinned at him, then disappeared among the cringe-worthy animated decorations.

“You didn’t come here to have a relationship,” he muttered.

Yeah, and you didn’t come to be a monk, either. Your contract is for two years. If you can be celibate for two years, you’ve got bigger problems than a pretty woman, buddy.

Distantly in his head, he heard his father saying,
My lawyer can get you out of that contract. We’ll make a donation, add a bonus, persuade someone without your connections to do it.
Like it was okay to weasel his way out of an obligation, to expect someone else to treat the common patients. Like he was too important to treat rural kids’ fevers, give them shots, and examine the bruises and bumps of their lives.

Jared’s jaw tightened. He’d signed the contract, and he would fulfill it. He would take care of these Oklahoma kids, most of whose families couldn’t possibly assemble enough wealth and power to qualify for attention from any of the other Connors physicians, and he would be happy doing it.

The checker, wearing a Santa hat that contrasted badly with her vivid orange hair, gave him the total, followed with a perfunctory “Merry Christmas.” Balancing the carton across the top of the cart, he pocketed his receipt, then headed out the door and to the SUV idling at the curb. Ilena was bundled up at the back.

“I’m glad you got a tree,” she said as she lifted the cargo door. “Everyone should have one.”

“Let me guess. Yours has been up since Thanksgiving.” He lifted the box in, shoving it to the left where the rear seat was folded down. Curiosity piqued by the noise, John twisted in his car seat to look, babbling softly. Definitely his daddy’s boy.

Ilena cocked her head to the side. “The main tree, yeah. We put up John’s tree a week before and the one in my bedroom the week before that. The tree in the kitchen stays up year round, but it’s not really a Christmas tree. We decorate it for all holidays and birthdays.”

Four trees for two people. Anyone else, he would have thought that was overkill, but it seemed just right for Ilena.

“I’ve never put up a tree before,” he admitted as he transferred the last of the bags. “At our house, it magically appeared on December first and disappeared on January first. My mother’s holiday designers were convinced they didn’t need my help.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize there was a job to be had decorating other people’s trees. I could do that. Though I doubt people who can afford holiday designers would appreciate my taste.”

Probably true.
Elegant
and
sophisticated
were the bywords in Dr. Margaret Baxter-Connors’ house. While he could think of a lot of words to describe Ilena,
elegant
and
sophisticated
weren’t among them.

Pretty. Guileless. Sweet. Confident. Pleasant. Happy. Sexy in an innocent elf/mama way. Great legs. Great ass. Great boobs.

“Are you good with your hands?”

Shaking out the image of his last thoughts, he looked at his hands: familiar, steady, strong. Capable hands. “I’ve done surgery with them.”

“Pish.” She waved her own hand in the air between them, clad in black suede, small and delicate and also steady and strong. “Anyone can do surgery. There’s an art to decorating a tree. Lucky for you, John and I have nothing on our schedule this entire weekend. You pick a time, and we’ll be there.”

When fate gives a gift, grab it with both hands.
“How about now?”

The delight that was always evident in her features deepened as a broad smile curved the corners of her generous mouth. “Sounds great. Let me go home and change, and we’ll meet you there. Good?”

The prospect brought his own smile, and for a moment he just stood there, looking goofy—no, looking happy—before he remembered to answer. “Good.”

Just about the best
good
ever.

* * *

Juan had been handy in just about every way possible. He’d already had crazy-good mechanical skills, and the Army had taught him more. Ilena’s dad could fix any piece of farm machinery, no matter how decrepit it was, and wring another few years of life from it. Ilena herself was pretty good with a hammer, climbing on roofs, crawling under vehicles, or doctoring animals that outweighed her twenty to one.

Jared’s hands were healing hands. Tree-assembling? Not so much. Oh, but it was fun watching him try.

She and John sat on a couch in the reception area, decorated to appeal to both parents and kids. John wasn’t interested at the moment, but maybe someday he’d be a patient here. Right now he got his care at the Army hospital on post, but when Ilena remarried, that benefit would stop.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have a baby doctor in the family, especially when she planned to have more babies?

With a grunt, Jared took a few steps back. “Okay. I straightened and bent and fluffed. That’s as close as it’s going to get to a real tree.” He frowned at her. “You do realize real trees aren’t perfect either. A few bare spots are going to happen.”

“It’s Christmas, Jared. Christmas trees
are
perfect.” And his had been, too, for about ten minutes. She’d just been enjoying the sight of him, stretching, bending, fabric pulling tightly over muscles and planes, running elegant fingers through his hair when she said,
No, no, it’s not balanced.

“So it’s good?”

She looked from him to the tree, mounted on a low coffee table and scooted into a corner, then back at him—hair mussed, preppy clothes a little mussed, too—and she smiled. “It’s very good.”

His quick, perfect smile showed he had no clue that she was talking about him. “So now we get rid of the box, then I sit with John while you decorate it.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no. I’ve done this dozens of times. You need the experience, and the best way to get it is to do it. John and I will advise you.”

His frown came back as he studied the boxes and bags filling every flat surface around the tree. “Shouldn’t we take it one step at a time? I mean, look, I put together a very good tree. I can attempt the decorations next year.”

Aw, she adored a man who bargained. She sometimes even compromised with them. But not yet. “When you’re doing something new, it’s better if you immerse yourself completely in it. You know, like learning another language and speaking nothing else until you’re fluent.”

“Even if I worked all day and I’m hungry?”

Hearing the
h
word, John stuffed two fingers in his mouth and started sucking. Ilena felt a tug of hunger, too. They were all like Pavlov’s dogs. “Even if. But we can break for dinner.”

Jared started toward the check-in desk. “I can order something in.”

“Or we can go out.”

“Joanie brought menus from every restaurant in town.”

“Or we can go out,” Ilena repeated. “Don’t you want to see what Tallgrass has to offer? Meet some people? Try something new?”

He shoved the tree box that he’d tossed aside earlier into a corner, then ruefully said, “Everything since I left New York is new.”

It was hard being a stranger in a different universe from the one he’d left behind. Ilena remembered the initial alienation she’d felt after trading her tiny hometown for Fort Lewis, Washington, three days after she and Juan got married. New place, new life in general, Army life in particular, nothing familiar…

Shifting John to her hip, she pushed to her feet, a little grunt escaping. “I hope my boy walks early because in a few months, I’m not gonna be able to lift him. Get your coat, Jared. Serena’s is a nice new experience. The food’s great, the people are wonderful, and everyone goes there eventually.”

She bundled the baby, then herself. Before she could pick him up again, Jared’s long elegant fingers curled around the seat handle. Smiling—John really was a chunk—she took her purse and diaper bag and led the way outside to her truck.

Within fifteen minutes, they were seated in a booth at the downtown restaurant, John’s carrier snugged into a high chair at the end of the table. It had taken five minutes to reach Serena’s entrance, the other ten to reach the booth, trading greetings and introductions all the way. She loved the intimacy of the small town and its people who had welcomed her and made a place that would always be home, no matter where she lived.

She wasn’t sure Jared was embracing the friendliness—the nosiness—quite as readily, but, like the tree, he was trying.

Serena’s specialty was home cooking, the heart attack-inducing kind. Ilena always ordered her winter favorite—stew with tender chunks of beef, carrots, potatoes, plus mushy soft cloves of garlic and a little crunch from celery—so while Jared studied the menu, she prepared a bottle for John, then lifted him from his seat. He grinned, showing his single tooth, and waved his little fists in the air, telling her how yummy the bottle looked and how he was famished in words that all sounded like
Hrble mrble drble.

It didn’t sound any worse than her early attempts to speak Spanish.

Before she could settle him in her arms, Jared laid his menu aside. “Can I feed him? If you don’t mind?”

Ilena went still, leaving John’s feet dangling. In that first moment she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d had startlingly clear visions of Juan cradling John in his arms, giving him a bottle, stroking his little cheek, looking at him with such awe and adoration. John’s
abuelito
had held him adoringly and fed him, but it wasn’t the same.

She slid the baby into Jared’s capable hands, gave him the bottle, then dug in her bag for a burp cloth, but instead of passing it over, she curled her fingers in it tightly. Jared held John with all the ease she would expect of a pediatrician, but there was, oh, so much more to it than that. Curiosity. Tenderness. A softening of Jared’s edges. And, yeah, a little bit of awe, to match the awe growing inside her.