Thankful (24 page)

“Melissa and Garrett are coming in together. Nick picked me up from the airport. So, is Ross here?”

“No. He's at work now. But he said he'd stop by when he got off of his shift.”

Jay's smile got bigger. “I can't believe you're dating a policeman, Mom.”

“Well, we're just seeing each other a bit. Taking things one day at a time. He's a nice man, though. I hope you all will like him. . . .”

Nick wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “If you like him, I have a feeling we might like him, too.”

Realizing that Nick had decided to keep an open mind, Jana felt pure relief course through her. Maybe this visit with the kids was going to go all right after all.

For the next hour, she introduced Nick and Jay to Pippa and shared the news about their partnership. Marla and Kirsten waited on them, bringing out soup and rolls, and then slices of pie.

Just as they were finishing their pie, her two other kids entered. Followed by Ross.

After the round of hugs, she bit her lip and plunged in. “Nick, Melissa, Jay, and Garrett, please meet Ross.”

Melissa looked him over and then smiled broadly. “Your boyfriend.”

The kids started giggling, as if they were twelve instead of responsible adults. Shaking hands, they talked to Ross, who visited with each one with ease.

Soon, they'd pushed some more tables together, and Marla brought out more coffee cups and two full pies, one apple and one peanut butter cream.

Before Jana knew it, she was serving pie and carrying on two conversations at the same time. Somehow Ross took the chair beside her. Every so often, his gaze would meet hers and he'd gently smile.

Just as if he met the grown children of women he dated all the time. Except she knew he hadn't. She knew that he'd hardly dated at all since he'd gotten divorced.

After another hour went by, they all stood up and got ready to drive to her house, Ross promising to join them there for pizza later.

Right after they said good-bye to Pippa and the rest of the girls, Jay sidled up to her and linked her arm through Jana's elbow. “It's going to be okay, isn't it, Mom?”

Looking around at the Sugarcreek Inn, which was not quite “her” restaurant anymore . . . watching her other children standing out by their cars, talking a mile a minute. And seeing Melissa hug Ross good-bye before he joined them later, Jana nodded.

“It is,” she said, with only a bit of wonder in her voice. “I think everything is going to be just fine, after all.”

chapter twenty-two

There was fear, and then there was fear of ice.

Christina darted a hesitant glance at the snow-covered pond, now looming in front of them. The small pond suddenly looked as big as one of the Great Lakes and twice as dangerous.

With effort, she tamped down the fresh burst of apprehension that gripped her like a vise. The last thing she wanted was for Aden to guess just how petrified she actually was.

But he'd already noticed.

Concern clouded his eyes as he gazed at her so intently she feared he could read her mind. “We don't have to do this, you know,” he murmured. “I won't think any less of you if we turn around.”

“I know.” And she did know it. But instead of easing her mind, it actually made her feel worse. If it had only been a matter of being been afraid to disappoint him—if that were her only fear—she would gladly use that as her excuse to turn around.

But she wasn't worried about Aden's opinion at the moment.

During their walk from the house to the pond she'd stopped thinking of ice-skating as a way to keep Aden by her side for a little longer. Instead, she'd started realizing that she needed to do this for herself.

For ten years, she'd suffered through nightmares and insomnia. She'd avoided water and dreaded the winter. Over time her accident had taken on gigantic proportions. She'd stopped seeing herself as a twelve-year-old who'd had an accident to someone who had made a series of bad choices and almost killed herself and Aden with her foolishness.

Worse, instead of admitting that her problems were more than she could handle on her own, she'd kept everything inside and not sought help from her parents or Aden. She'd even been so foolish that she hadn't even asked the Lord for help.

But all that had done was make things worse.

Now, at long last, she was determined to face her fears. She was never going to be able to move forward in her life if she constantly blocked out the past.

She took a moment to attempt to put her jumbled thoughts in order, wanting to try to get him to understand what she was thinking—even if she didn't completely understand it all herself. “Aden, I think I do need to do this. Ten years is more than enough time to hold on to an unreasonable fear. Ain't so?” She'd added the last as a timid attempt to make him smile.

But instead of grinning, Aden remained stoic, staring at her intently. “We all have hang-ups, Christina. We all have fears that don't always make sense. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I'm not ashamed,” she lied.

He winced. “Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say. What I meant was that we all have foibles and fears.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

She yearned to ask him what his fears were, but she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything but the sight of the pond in front of them.

It loomed in front of her, looking, she supposed, like a beautiful centerpiece in a winter scene. It was still snowing, and the gently falling flakes swirled and danced in the air, finally coming to rest on the pond's surface.

She knew that later that day children from all around would venture to the pond. Soon the area would be scattered with boots and skates, abandoned coats and mittens. Laughter would ring out, flowing down the valley. Loud enough that she'd be able to hear it from her bedroom.

But now it was just the two of them.

As yet another shudder ran through her, Christina pushed it away. “Let's go. If we wait any longer, I'm going to chicken out.”

“Christina, I told you, you won't be chickening out.” Obviously trying to rein in his frustration, he tossed his skates on the ground. “Look. I know you wanting to get on the ice is all my fault. I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like there was something wrong with you.”

“You didn't.”

“We both know I did. The other day when we were walking home, I should have steered you clear of this place instead of forcing you to stand so close to the ice. I pushed you too hard and didn't listen to you like I should have. It was wrong of me. And callous.”

“Aden, you were right.”

Giving no indication that he'd heard her, he continued. “The fact is, I should never have made you do anything you were uncomfortable with. I'm no doctor or preacher or expert on fighting fears. I don't know what I was thinking. . . .”

“I do. You wanted to help me.” She started walking, ignoring his sound of frustration. “Come on, Aden,” she called out over her shoulder. “As of this morning, I'm done standing still. I'm moving forward.”

Behind her, he sighed. “Lord help us all,” he muttered as he bent down and retrieved his skates. Then, after a brief pause, he started following.

His final acquiescence should have given her a feeling of pleasure. Instead, now that she realized nothing else was holding her back, she felt as if she were free-falling. Rushing toward her fears with the speed of a freight train.

Finally moving forward.

She clung to the phrase with everything she had, repeating it silently in her head, over and over until it became the only thing she could concentrate on. She ignored the snow swirling around them, ignored the cold wind tickling her cheeks. Even ignored Aden's presence next to her.

All that mattered was that she wasn't letting her fear control her any longer.

Carefully she rearranged the skates on her shoulder. The white leather skates were Treva's favorites. She'd saved all winter for them. And to Christina's embarrassment, she hadn't even told Treva she was borrowing them.

Continuing, Christina strode across the frozen meadow and ventured up the slight hill that surrounded the frozen pond. She heard Aden's boots crunch on the snow behind her, his pace measured and steady. She cocked her head, ready to hear him offer advice or even another warning. But he didn't say a word.

He didn't even increase his pace so that he could walk by her side again. Obviously, he was letting her lead. Letting her make the next steps on her own. It was exhilarating, the idea that he trusted her enough to keep his silence. But it was scary, too. For the first time in their relationship she was with him, but not leaning on him.

Not until they got to the onset of the pond's banks did she stop.

She hadn't done it intentionally. Instead, it was as if her feet had elected to take control and froze.

Looming barely three feet in front of her, almost close enough to touch, the ice taunted her. And as every fear she'd cradled close to her heart gained strength, her body began to shake again.

Tears formed in her eyes. With a cry of dismay, Christina realized that there wasn't a thing she could do about it, either.

Suddenly, she was helpless all over again, as weak and terrified as she'd been all those years ago when she'd fallen through the ice and felt the bone-crushing cold, covered only by the panic of her terror.

Teeth chattering, she wrapped her arms around her waist and held on tight. “I've been such a fool, Aden,” she whispered. “And I have a confession.”

“What is it?”

“I . . . I did want to skate again for me. But this morning, I wanted to do it for you, too.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because I . . . I wanted you to love me.” She hung her head, too embarrassed to look at him. “I wanted you to think of me as someone who was mature. Strong. A woman you could be proud of.”

“Christina, I am proud of you.”

She shook off his words. “Now here I am, too scared to do anything but stand here and shake. Obviously, I'm not going to get any better, am I? This . . . this fear is as much a part of me as my dumb scar.”

Just as she braced herself for his rejection, a warm, solid arm curved around her waist. “You don't ever need to do a thing to prove yourself to me. You never have.” Cuddling her closer, he blew out a ragged sigh. “The thing is, I've loved you, too. I've loved you for most of my life. For as long as I can remember.”

She squeezed her eyes tight. Trying to drink in his words and figure out what they meant, all at the same time.

Then she felt his lips brush the nape of her neck. And felt his strength flow into her. “I've got you, Christina,” he whispered again and again. “I promise. I've got you. I've got you and I'm not going to let you go. Not now, not ever.”

After the slightest of hesitations, she leaned back against his body. Felt how solid and strong he was. Felt his warm breath as it brushed her cheek.

“I've got you, Christina,” he whispered again. “I've got you.”

And in that moment, she knew it was true. Aden was going to help her, no matter what. If she decided to leave, he would be by her side.

If she dared to step on the ice, he was going to keep her safe. No matter what, he wasn't going to let her go through any of it on her own. And because of that, she knew she no longer had to be afraid.

And right then and there she knew that she was finally going to be able to do anything she wanted—because he already held the most important thing: her heart.

A
den's heart was pounding as he wrapped his arms more securely around Christina. He'd just given her everything he had. His heart, his secret, and the promise that he'd kept so carefully guarded for most of his life.

Little by little, he felt her body relax. He gave her a little squeeze, then released her with reluctance when he realized his hands were now what was trembling.

She noticed. Looking over her shoulder, she met his gaze. “Aden?”

“Sorry. I, ah, though I might have been holding you too tightly.”

The emotion shining in her eyes went a little flat. When she took a step away, a dozen emotions fluttered through Aden's insides, desire warring with an overwhelming feeling of protection while worry and pride kept company in his heart.

Never had he been so afraid. His mouth had surely gotten them to this place. Once again, he'd been thinking he knew everything when it was becoming more apparent by the second that he knew nothing. What was he going to do if she fell and got hurt, or if this experience only heightened her fears instead of easing them? The last thing he'd wanted to do was make her even more afraid of being on the ice.

But then he remembered hearing Treva say she'd gone skating yesterday after work. If she had skated on the pond just a few hours earlier, he knew it was safe.

Plus, as he stared at the ice, it looked as firm and solid as he'd ever seen it to be. It was as safe as it had ever been.

That bit of assurance eased his conscience and helped him regain his usual confidence. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to skate one time around the pond. Even if I never do it again, I want to know that at least one time I was brave enough to get back on the ice.”

“Then that is what we'll do.” He slid his skates off his shoulder and took the last two steps toward the snow-covered ridge. “Let's do this, Christina.”

She nodded, then sat down on one of the rocks and methodically began switching out her heavy black winter boots for her sister's white leather skates.

As Aden laced up his own black skates, he was relieved to notice that her hands weren't shaking as she tied the white laces, taking care to double-tie the neat bow on each skate. “I'm ready,” she said at last.

“All right, then,” he said, inserting a bit of enthusiasm into his tone that he didn't feel. “Let me have your hand.”