One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (32 page)

“Serves you right,” Laura said sweetly, and John glared at her.

“Nice to meet you,” Dennis said, sticking his hand out. “Great car.”

“Thanks.”

“I'd shake hands, but I think it might be better if we just said hello,” John said, still struggling with the peas.

“You look like you have your hands full,” Nick commented with a chuckle.

“Yeah, you might say that,” John replied, juggling Daniel on one knee while the suddenly shy Susan, a finger stuck in her mouth, watched the proceedings while clinging to his leg.

“Well, let's leave these two in peace to enjoy their food,” Dana said as she came to John's rescue and hoisted Daniel onto her hip. “Nick, it's nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll see a lot of you this weekend.”

“We'll be back later, Mom,” John said, bending over to give her a peck on the cheek.

“Good. Drive safe, now. Dennis, you're just in time for some chili,” she said, turning her attention to her younger son.

“Now that's what I call perfect timing,” he said with a grin, turning a chair backward to the table and stradling it.

“Nick, go ahead and find a seat,” Mrs. Anderson said as she set the table with quick efficiency.

Laura was glad Dennis had shown up in time for dinner. His boisterous chatter kept Nick occupied, giving Laura a chance to think. She should have expected her family's reaction, she supposed. She'd never brought a man home since…since Joe's death. In fact, she'd never brought anyone home except Joe. It was bound to cause a stir. She'd simply have to keep Nick at arm's length and convince everyone that he was just a friend. Except he wasn't helping.

She frowned at the dilemma and looked up, only to discover Nick's eyes on her. Dennis was at the sink refilling his water glass, and Nick's lazy smile and slow wink sent a sudden, sharp flash of heat jolting through her.

“Aren't you hungry?” he asked, his innocent words at odds with the inviting look in his eyes.

“Wh-what?” she stammered.

He nodded to her almost untouched chili, and she glanced down.

“Oh. Yes, I am. I guess I've been daydreaming. You look like you're doing okay, though,” she said, trying to divert his attention.

“It's great.” He turned to Laura's mother. “This is wonderful chili, Mrs. Anderson. Does Laura have this recipe?”

“Oh, my yes. She's quite a good cook when she has the time.”

“I know,” he said. His tone implied that he knew a lot more, and he turned to smile at Laura with that easy, heart-melting look of his.

Laura swallowed her mouthful of chili with difficulty and tried to think of some response, but she could barely remember her name, let alone formulate a snappy retort, when Nick looked at her like that. In desperation, she glanced toward her mother for assistance, but the older woman was watching them with an interested gleam in her eye. No ally there, she thought in disgust.

Dennis had returned and once again monopolized the conversation, so Laura focused on her chili, her mind racing. Her family was jumping to way too many conclusions, she thought. And Nick wasn't helping. If he kept looking at her in that intimate way, it wasn't going to be easy to convince everyone that friendship was all he had on his mind. Especially when she knew better. Or worse—depending on your point of view, she thought wryly.

L
aura was managing very nicely to keep Nick at bay, she thought late on Sunday, after everyone had overindulged on Aunt Gladys's fried chicken. Nearly thirty people had shown up for the gathering, including the entire Anderson clan and assorted aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews. The lively exchanges during the meal had now given way to quiet satisfaction as everyone found a comfortable spot in the shade to relax. Except for a spirited game of horseshoes undertaken by the more energetic among the group, everyone else seemed content to do nothing more strenuous than chase away an occasional fly.

From his shady spot under a tree, Nick watched Laura help her mother and aunt clear away the remains of the meal. His offer of assistance had been promptly refused, so he had sought relief from the heat under the spreading branches of this oak, which also provided him with a good vantage point from which to observe Laura. She appeared more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, he noted through half-closed eyelids, his back propped against the trunk of the tree. With her hair
pulled back into a ponytail, the trimness of her figure accentuated with shorts and a T-shirt and a good night's sleep behind her, she could pass for a teenager, at least from this distance. Even up close she seemed younger, almost carefree, the lines of tension around her mouth and eyes erased. She smiled more, and Nick began to glimpse the woman she had once been, before some demon from her past had stolen the laughter from her life.

He also knew that she was doing her best to make sure the two of them weren't alone. And he was just as sure that he had to get her alone. Here, in this relaxed, safe setting, she might open up a little, give him some insight to the fears she kept bottled inside. This was his best chance to discover more about Laura Taylor, and he wasn't about to let it pass. Because until he knew the secrets she kept hidden, the source of her fears, he would be at a distinct disadvantage. The only problem was figuring out a way to spirit her away from the group.

In the end, Laura's Aunt Gladys emerged as his unexpected ally. “Land, it's a hot one,” she said, fanning herself with part of a newspaper as the women came over to join him. Laura's aunt and mother opened up lawn chairs, and Laura dropped to the ground next to Nick. “Does anyone want some iced tea or lemonade? Nick?”

“No, thank you. I'm still too full from dinner to even think about putting anything else in my stomach,” he said with a lazy grin. “That was one of the best meals I've had in a long time.”

“Well, I'm glad you liked it,” Aunt Gladys said with a pleased grin. She glanced at Laura's mother before
continuing, and Nick noted the conspiratorial look that passed between them. “Laura, why don't you show Nick the spring?” she suggested casually. “It's a whole lot cooler down there.”

Laura had been halfheartedly watching the game of horseshoes, listening to the conversation only on a peripheral level, but now she gave it her full attention, turning startled eyes to Nick. He saw the panic in them, opened his mouth to politely decline, but caught himself in time. Instead, he idly reached for a blade of grass and twirled it silently between his fingers.

“Oh, Aunt Gladys, it's a pretty long walk. I'm sure Nick's too full to go hiking in this weather,” she said breathlessly.

“It's not that far,” Aunt Gladys replied. “If I was as young as you two, I'd be heading there myself. I think Nick would enjoy it.”

“It sounds very interesting,” he injected smoothly. “And I'm all for finding a cooler spot, even if it does take a little effort to get there.” Without waiting for a reply, he stood and extended his hand to Laura. “Come on, Laura. You can be my tour guide,” he coaxed, smiling down at her.

Laura stared up at him, her mind racing. How could she refuse without appearing rude? She looked to her aunt and mother for help, but they were smiling at her innocently. It was a conspiracy, she thought, realizing she was doomed. Nick wanted to get her alone, and her mother and aunt were clearly on his side. She might as well give up.

Nick saw the look of capitulation in her eyes and let out his breath slowly. He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd refused to go with him.

Laura put her hand in his, and in one lithe motion he drew her to her feet, tucking her arm in his. She saw the look of satisfaction Aunt Gladys and her mother exchanged and vowed to get even with them later.

“We'll be back soon,” she said deliberately.

“Oh, take your time,” her mother said. “You won't miss anything here.”

Laura gave her a dirty look before turning to Nick. “It's down the road a bit and then through the woods,” she said shortly.

“If we're not back by dark, send out a search party,” Nick said to the two older women. Then he paused and looked down at Laura. “On second thought, never mind.”

Laura's mother laughed. “I'm sure you'll take good care of her,” she said. “Have fun, you two.”

Laura knew she was blushing furiously, and she turned and began walking rapidly toward the road, practically dragging Nick with her.

“Hey, whoa! What's the rush?” he asked.

“I thought you wanted to see the spring.”

“I do. But it's not going anywhere, is it?”

Reluctantly Laura slowed her gait. “No,” she said glumly.

“That's what I like in a tour guide. Enthusiasm,” Nick said, trying to elicit a smile and dispel some of the tension.

Laura looked up at him guiltily. He'd been a good sport about all the family activities over the past two days, blending right in with his easygoing manner and natural charm, and making no attempt to monopolize her time—until now. She supposed she owed him at least this much.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I just hate being railroaded into anything.”

He stopped walking, and she looked up at him in surprise.

“If you'd rather not go, it's okay,” he said, knowing he had to give her an out, hoping she wouldn't take it. If she wasn't a willing partner in this outing it was doomed to failure, anyway.

Laura seemed momentarily taken aback by his offer, and he saw the conflict in her eyes. He'd promised to let her set the pace, she recalled, and Nick had been a man of his word—so far. She knew that he hoped something romantic would develop when they were alone, but if she wasn't willing, she trusted him not to push. Maybe that was a mistake, but it was one she was suddenly willing to risk. “No. Let's go. It is cooler there, and you could probably use a break from all this family togetherness.”

Relief flooded through him. “I like your family a lot, Laura. But some quiet time would be nice,” he admitted with a smile.

“Well, it's quiet at the spring,” she assured him.

They walked along a gravel road for a while, the late-afternoon sun relentless in its heat, and Laura looked up at Nick after a few minutes with a rueful smile. “Are you regretting this outing yet?” she asked.

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. “Well…that depends on how much farther it is,” he said cautiously, the shadow of a grin making the corners of his mouth quirk up.

Laura pointed to a curve in the road about a hundred yards ahead. “The path is right up there. It cuts through
the woods, so at least we'll be in the shade. The spring's about a ten-minute walk from the road.”

“I can handle that.”

They covered the remaining ground quickly and then paused a moment after turning onto the path, enjoying the welcome relief provided by the leafy canopy of trees.

“Whew! It's a lot hotter than it seemed back at your aunt's,” Nick remarked, mopping his brow again.

“Yeah. It's got to be well over ninety.”

“Is this a cold spring?”

“Very.”

“Good. Lead me to it.”

Fifteen minutes later, they sat side by side on a log, their feet immersed in a brook that was fed by the spring bubbling up a few yards away. Laura watched Nick close his eyes and smile. “This is heaven,” he pronounced.

“It is nice,” Laura agreed. “When we were kids we used to spend a lot of time playing here. It was a great place to grow up—fresh air, open spaces, pastures to run in, trees to climb, apples to pick…” Her voice trailed off.

“Sounds idyllic,” Nick commented.

She nodded. “It was in a lot of ways. We didn't have much in the material sense, but we had more than our share of love. You may have noticed that this weekend.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I was very fortunate to have such a wonderful family,” she continued softly. “We were sort of like the Waltons, you know? When that program was on TV I used to hear people say that no one really had a
family like that. Well, we did. My parents taught us by example how to live our Christian faith and gave us an incredible foundation of love to build on. Those things are a priceless legacy.” She drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. “That's one of the reasons I got involved with Christian Youth Outreach. Those poor kids have no idea what it's like to grow up in a warm, caring, supportive atmosphere. Outreach can't make up for that, but it does provide programs that help instill Christian values and give kids a sense of self-worth.”

Nick looked over at her, the dappled sunlight playing across her face, and noted the faint shadows under her eyes. She worked too hard, always stretching herself to the limit. Yet she still found time to give to others, living her faith in a concrete way. She never ceased to amaze him.

“You know something, Laura Taylor? You're quite a woman,” he said softly.

She looked at him in surprise, a delicate flush staining her cheeks, then turned away. “A lot of people do a lot more than me,” she said with a dismissive shrug. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “This really is a great spot, isn't it? It brings back so many good memories,” Laura said, a tender smile of recollection softening her features. Then it slowly faded. “But things never stay the same, do they?”

“It must have been hard to leave here,” Nick ventured, sensing a chance to find out more about her past.

She reached down and trailed her fingers through the cold water. “In some ways, yes. But I was very much in love, and when you're in love nothing else matters,”
she said quietly. “Besides, I had visions of recreating this lifestyle in the city. I figured there had to be someplace there with a small-town feel, and I found it pretty quickly. Webster Groves. When I was first married I used to love to drive through there and admire those wonderful, old Victorian houses. I always figured some day we'd have one.” She paused and cupped her chin in her hand, resting her elbow on her knee, and the wistful smile on her face tightened Nick's throat. “It would have had a big porch on three sides, with lots of gingerbread trim and cupolas, and fireplaces, and an arbor covered with morning glories that led to a rose garden. And children playing on a tire swing…” She stopped abruptly and glanced at Nick self-consciously. “Sorry. Coming home always makes me nostalgic,” she apologized, a catch in her voice.

He was tempted to reach over and take her hand. But he held back, afraid that physical contact would break the mood. “I didn't mind. I'm just sorry you never got your house.”

She shrugged. “Oh, well. It wasn't in God's plan for me, I guess. At least my office is in Webster. Sometimes, in the fall especially, I walk down Elm Street and let myself daydream even now,” she confided.

“There's nothing wrong with dreaming, Laura.”

“There is when you have no way of making those dreams come true,” she replied. “If I've learned one thing in the past few years, it's to be realistic.”

“No more dreams?” he asked gently.

She looked at him squarely. “No. Dreams have a way of turning sour.”

“Not all dreams, Laura.”

“I know. My business is a good example. But it didn't
happen by itself, Nick. It took a lot of hard work. Those kind of dreams, the ones you can control, where if you do certain things there's a predictable outcome, are fine.”

“Is that why you shy away from relationships? Because people are unpredictable and don't always do what you expect?” He was afraid she'd tense up, resent his question, but the quiet of the woods, broken only by the call of an occasional bird and the splashing of the brook, seemed to have had a calming effect on her. She sighed.

“I suppose that's a fair question, Nick. You've told me how you feel, and I guess you have a right to know what your chances are with me. You were honest with me, so I'll be honest with you. I like you very much. Probably too much. But the odds aren't good.”

“Because you're scared?” he asked quietly.

She hesitated, and then nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“But, Laura…don't you ever get lonely?”

Laura swallowed past the lump in her throat and looked away, afraid that the tears welling up in her eyes would spill out. “I have my family.”

“That's not what I mean.”

She knew exactly what he meant, but chose to ignore it. “I also have my faith, Nick. Believe it or not, that helps a lot to ease any loneliness I might feel. It's a great source of strength.”

Nick knew she was telling the truth. He had begun to realize just how important Laura's faith was to her. He'd seen the worn and obviously much-read Bible at her apartment, knew she attended church every Sunday. He'd been struck by the peace in her eyes during the church service he'd attended with the Anderson clan
that morning—a look of serenity and fullfilment he envied. Nick hadn't attended church much since he was a teenager, and had almost made an excuse to skip the service that morning. But he had honestly enjoyed sharing the experience with Laura and even thought he might begin attending his own church more often after this weekend. But his comment had nothing to do with faith, and she knew it.