Read Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger Online

Authors: Lori Copeland

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Westerns, #test

Playing for Keeps/A Tempting Stranger (47 page)

 
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tossing a dog-eared ornament of a babe lying in a manger toward Chandra. ''Remember this one, Chadee?"
Chandra grinned, catching the tiny ornament in her hand. She looked at the miniature manger with baby Jesus lying in his cradle, the shepherds standing beside him and Mary looking on with adoration. She had made it when she was in the third grade, along with a finger-painted drawing of the scene for her parents.
"Do you remember when you brought it home and climbed up in my lap to show it to me?" her dad asked tenderly, placing the Star of David on the top of the tree.
"Yes." She grinned in embarrassment. "But I'm going to hear it again!"
"You climbed up in Daddy's lap and started pointing out the different characters you had drawn," her mother entered the conversation laughingly. "You pointed out the manger, the shepherds, the sheep, the star shining brightly in the East. . . ."
"And when I pointed to the slightly rotund stick figure you had standing up close to the cradle and asked you who it was, you looked at me with serious wide eyes and answered, 'Why that's Round John Virgin, Daddy!' "
Margo broke in on the story again, her voice bubbling with laughter. "I'll never forget the blank look your father had on his face when he looked up at me and mouthed the words, 'Who's Round John Virgin?' "
"Yes, and
I'll
never forget the look on both your faces when I piped up and answered disgustedly, 'You know, Daddy! Round John Virgin, Mother and Child,' quoting you my slightly off-key version of the words to 'Silent Night.' "
They all three burst out laughing as her father told them gleefully, "I still can't hear that song that I don't get tickled. You were sure a feisty kid!" His laughter slowly ground to a halt, his face turning serious. "Where have the years flown to, Chadee?" he asked wonderingly. "That seemed just like yesterday when you were a nine-year-old with gaps in your teeth. And now here you are, a beautiful young woman ready for motherhood yourself soon."
 
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Chandra reached over and hugged her dad's neck tightly. ''Oh, Dad, I want to thank you and Mom for all the wonderful years I've had growing up in this home." Chandra's eyes misted thinking of all the lonely, cold Christmases that Garrett had probably experienced in his life, growing up in a home sadly lacking in love. "I hope I can leave my children the same legacy of love that you will leave me."
After they all three wiped their eyes they stood back, their arms around each other as Dan threw the switch that lighted the large tree. The scotch pine came alive with strings of brightly blinking lights, their varied colors shimmering against the wispy strings of icicles that hung thick on the glowing tree.
"It's the best tree we've ever had. . . ." They all broke off laughing as the sound of their voices speaking in unison filled the room.
"That's what we say every year," Margo said happily, storing the empty ornament boxes in a larger cardboard one. "Any Christmas tree is beautiful when you're with the ones you love."
Dan and Margo tried not to notice the look that suddenly overtook Chandra's laughing face. Her laughter died, that haunting sad look that they had seen for days replacing the gaiety in her eyes. She walked over and lovingly touched the small, wooden toy soldier, a tear slipping silently down her face. Her finger ran tenderly around the little soldier's face. She wasn't thinking of her brother, Darrell, right now. Her mind was on another toy soldiera stubborn, arrogant pill of a soldier. She wondered where he was tonight . . . and with whom.
Rather than have her parents see her dissolve in tears again she quickly left the room without a word and reached in the hall closet for her heavy coat and pair of boots. As the front door closed quietly, her parents exchanged a painful look with each othera look that spoke volumes between them. Although they loved their daughter fiercely, she was locked in a world of misery that only she could escape from. With a heavy heart they turned out the lamp and arm in arm walked slowly up to their room.
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Outside the air was cold and crisp, the snow still falling heavily as Chandra took a deep, cleansing breath, then sat down on the porch steps to pull her boots on. Accomplishing that she wrapped a heavy, knitted scarf around her neck, put her matching hat on, and stepped nimbly off the porch. Her spirits began to lift as she walked briskly down the snow-covered streets, playfully puffing her breath out in front of her in the frosty night air. She waved at the two teenage boys who couldn't wait for morning as they laughingly tried to build a nine-foot snowman out of the wet snow. They waved back, calling out with an invitation to help them. With a wave of her hand she declined their offer, trudging on down the street in the ever-deepening snow. She could feel the sharp bite of the night wind stinging her cheeks as she turned the corner walking on down Garner Avenue.
Experiencing the carefree world of her childhood days, she opened her mouth wide trying to catch the big, fat snowflakes as they fell. A few cars crept slowly by her, the drivers edged up on their seats trying to find the road with their strained eyes. Her feet carried her swiftly around another corner, the lights of the small park glowing dimly through the falling snow. Chandra had spent many hours of her childhood playing in this small neighborhood park. Walking faster, she turned into the small park and walked down a snow-covered path to the silent swings and merry-go-round sitting still and eerie in their frozen world. She remembered days of long ago when Darrell had brought her here and had swung her for hours. He would finally have to drag her off the swings bodily, then carry a screaming, wiggling sister home for Mom to do something with! She could hardly wait for the day she would be allowed to go to the park and swing alone. But when that big day arrived, the swings had lost their appeal and other, more important things had taken over. Such as trying to keep her defending title as champion home-run hitter with the boys in the neighborhood. By the time she was twelve, she could out-hit, out-pitch, out-catch, out-stare, and out-spit any boy on the block. Darrell used to come home in a fit of temper and
 
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demand his mother make her act like more of a lady after a particularly bad day at the ball park with his tomboyish sister.
Chandra walked over and sat down on a snow-covered bench, wiping off the seat with her mittened hands. Somewhere around fourteen she had discovered boys could do more than run bases and throw garden snakes at her to hear her scream. A boy by the name of Greg Loftis gave her her first kiss, and from that moment on Darrell had his wish granted. She put away her ball bat and glove, exchanging them for hose and makeup, and slowly developed into a lovely young woman. She never spat in public again, nor tried to out-cuss the neighborhood bully. For that Darrell was eternally grateful.
The years passed swiftlyshe had graduated from high school, then taken a secretarial course. A close friend talked her into moving to Kansas City and sharing an apartment with her. She did, then promptly landed the job in Phillip's father's law firm. She had worked there a year before Phillip was discharged from the service and joined his father in the firm. They had enjoyed an easy, relaxed friendship from the day they met. After dating close to a year he asked her to marry him. Accepting the ring reluctantly she had agreed to the marriage, hoping that her feelings would grow stronger before the actual marriage took place. With each passing day the burden of her wedding grew heavier, until that day was fast approaching and she had returned back home.
They were planning to be married at the church she had been christened in as a baby. Her wedding dress was hanging in the closet, its beauty breathtaking. The cake was ordered, the invitations sent out, the wedding gifts unwrapped. All that was left was to speak her vowsbut could she do it?
''Why didn't you at least leave a note?"
Chandra's daydreams tumbled to a halt as the soft, deep timbre of a man's voice broke the silence. In the dim light of the snowy night she could barely make out the tall form of a man standing in the shadows of an old oak tree. He was wearing a
 
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navy-blue pea coat, his dark brown hair covered with white flakes of snow. She didn't have to see his face to know who the voice belonged to. She heard it constantly in her dreams every night.
''The least you could have done was tell me you were leaving that day." He moved out of the shadows, stopping before her, his blue eyes hungrily caressing her face. "That's a hell of a thing to pull on a man," he said softly.
Her eyes turned up to his, her pulse behaving erratically at his nearness. Garrett stood facing her, his hands crammed tightly in the pockets of his coat. Chandra wished with all her heart she could stand up and touch him, but she had made a clean break and couldn't afford the pain of touching him again.
"I thought it was better that way," she managed to answer aloofly.
"Better for whom?" he asked tightly, his eyes never leaving her face.
"For both of us. We had said all there was to say to each other." Chandra rose to her feet, striving to break his powerful gaze. She walked over to a covered fountain and kept her back turned to him, feeling him more than hearing him follow her under the canopy. He kept a safe distance from her as he talked.
"Don't you think we have anything more to talk about?"
"Not really." She closed her eyes against the sharp pain that assaulted her, wishing he would go away before she dissolved in a pool of tears.
"I've missed you." Garrett's voice carried quietly through the air, his deep tone serious.
"Have you?" she laughed ironically. "I would have never known it. I've been gone four days now. . . ." Her voice died off before she could finish the sentence.
The sound of a match being struck filled the air as Garrett sat down on the concrete wall and lit one of the small cigars he smoked occasionally. "When I returned home . . . that day, you were gone. The damn house was like a tomb. I left the next morning for Arlington. I just drove into town an hour ago."
 
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Tiredly he answered her unspoken question as to why he hadn't called her since she left.
''Did you get your clothes and car?" she asked for want of something to say, more than from any real interest on her part.
"Yes."
The silence hung in the air, neither one of them trying to ease the other's plight. Gurrett sat smoking his cigar, the aromatic smoke curling around Chandra in the small enclosure.
"Come back to me, Chandra." Again, just his low voice touched her as he issued his husky plea.
She closed her eyes, fighting back the overwhelming desire to scream, Yes, yes, yes! Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and replied calmly, "I can't do that, Garrett."
"Because of Phillip? Do you really love the guy that much?"
"No, not because of Phillipbecause of Garrett. I won't live the way you're suggesting."
"Dammit, Chandra." He stood up and flipped the small che-root out into the snow. The red tip flared brightly in the dark night. "I don't know why I fool with you. I know at least five women who would love to be given that invitation, and they sure as hell wouldn't demand marriage!"
Chandra turned around to face him coolly. "Then you better ask one of them, because I'm not interested."
"Lord, you're bull-headed!" He jammed his hands back into his coat pockets in severe agitation and turned to look out at the failing snow. As she stepped around him, moving out of the fountain area, he spoke again. "Six months, just give it a shot for six months. If I still feel the same way about you as I do now, we'll get married."
"That's mighty big of you," she taunted, walking steadily away from him. "You mean if I were real lucky you wouldn't tell me to 'hit the road' at the end of the six months?"
Garrett reached out and jerked her angrily to a halt. "You know damn good and well I wouldn't tell you . . . that, Chandra!" His voice faltered. "Dammit, I love you . . . you know that."

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