Читать книгу A Mistletoe Christmas - Carla Cassidy - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

JAKE AWOKE CRANKY, and he had a feeling it was because he felt guilty that he’d enjoyed the night before with Melody and the kids.

He’d rolled over in his big king-size bed, and the first thing he saw in the early dawn light was the picture of Stacy that had been on his nightstand since the day they had married over seven years ago.

Her chocolate-brown eyes appeared to glare at him accusingly, even though he knew he was imagining it. Her short, curly blond hair set off her pixielike features.

The tormenting pain he’d felt for so long whenever he gazed at the picture or allowed himself to dwell on thoughts of what might have been no longer plagued him. But he would always have a wealth of sadness when he thought of her.

He’d promised to love her through eternity, and while he would always have love in his heart for her, he’d never dreamed that he’d want to spend time with another woman—a woman who made him laugh, a woman who made him feel wonderfully alive for the first time in years.

He got out of bed, grateful that he had morning chores that hopefully would keep the thought of all females out of his head. It took him most of the morning to check on his herd of cattle and ride the fence line looking for breaches or other issues.

It was only as he rode the fence nearest Melody’s house that visions of her once again filled his head. She’d looked so beautiful the night before with the wintry breeze whipping color into her cheeks and her beautiful eyes sparkling with merriment.

Night, Daddy. Libby’s sleepy words had shot a different kind of pain through him.

Jake had been ready for children the minute he and Stacy had finished their wedding ceremony. But Stacy had wanted to wait. If they’d had a child at the time Jake had wanted, he or she would have been about Libby’s age.

Maybe if he’d had a child when Stacy had died, he would have pulled himself together more quickly instead of wallowing in grief and isolation for so many years.

By the time he finished his chores and got back into the house, it was lunchtime. He made himself a couple of sandwiches and listened to the news and weather. He frowned as he heard the forecast for a fast-moving winter storm predicted to move in midevening on Christmas Eve.

He couldn’t care less about the storm, because he had no intention of participating in whatever festivities the town might have planned for the night, but he’d hate to see the people of Mistletoe disappointed if special events had to be canceled due to weather.

He finished his meal with a cup of coffee in hand as he stood at the window that gave him a view of Melody’s house. He sipped the hot brew and realized he didn’t want the day to pass without seeing her and Libby again.

Acting strictly on impulse, he set his coffee cup down and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. It took him only minutes to locate the number for Melody’s dance studio, and he punched in the number before he might change his mind.

“Melody speaking.” Her voice filled the line.

“Jake speaking,” he replied, his heart lifting at the mere sound of her voice. “I was wondering if you and Libby would like to join me tonight for dinner at the Mistletoe Mountain Restaurant.”

“Oh, that’s one of the places Libby and I had on our list of things to do before Christmas, but had decided we’d do it next year because it’s rather expensive.”

“If you come with me tonight, then you won’t have to worry about the expense. You’d both be my guests.”

“Jake, it’s too much,” she began to protest.

“Don’t you worry about anything but putting on your pretty clothes and being ready around six,” he replied. “Besides, you’d be doing me a favor. That place has the best steaks in the entire state and I’m hungry for one, but you know I don’t like to eat alone.”

She laughed, obvious of the fact that he’d turned it around so that they would be doing him a favor rather than the other way around. “Okay, then, we’ll be ready at six.”

What are you doing, man? he asked himself once he had hung up the phone. Mistletoe Mountain Restaurant was located ten miles outside of the town. It was built on a hill that overlooked one of the mistletoe farms and was a favorite for tourists and townspeople celebrating special occasions.

He and Stacy had talked about going there often but had never actually gone. This would be a new experience for him as well as Melody and Libby.

The afternoon crawled by, and he was grateful when it was time to shower and dress for dinner. He exchanged his jeans for a pair of black dress slacks and his flannel shirt for a long-sleeved blue button-up shirt. Splashing on cologne, he then took a little time to polish up his black cowboy boots, and with his hat on his head, he took off for Melody’s place.

He tried to ignore the quickened beat of his heart in anticipation of spending another evening with her, but there was no denying that he felt like a schoolboy headed on a date with a popular cheerleader.

Even his palms were slightly damp by the time he pulled up in front of her house. Dusk had fallen, and night wasn’t far behind.

Melody’s house looked like an homage to gaudy. Not only did colored lights outline her house and end at a huge, bright white star at the peak of the roof, but each window was also framed by flashing purple lights. Jake had a feeling the purple lights were the idea of the little purple-loving princess.

He got out of his Jeep and walked to the front door. When Melody answered his knock, for a moment he couldn’t speak as he took in the vision of her in a royal blue dress cinched at her slender waist with a blue-and-black belt. Her legs beneath the flirty skirt appeared to go on forever and ended in a pair of blue high heels.

“Wow,” he finally managed to say. “You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thank you, sir. And you clean up pretty well yourself.”

Libby came down the hallway in a purple velvet dress and with a tiara on her head. “No tiara,” Melody said, and held out a purple coat with white furry cuffs to her daughter.

“But you said it was a fancy restaurant, and I want to wear it,” Libby protested.

“How about we compromise?” Jake suggested. “You can wear it on the way to the restaurant, and then when we get there you can take it off.”

“Fine,” Libby said in a tone that belied her acquiescence.

Melody pulled on a black coat and the three of them left the house.

“I made sure to reserve a window table so you and Libby will be able to see the mistletoe farm,” Jake said. “They have lots of lights turned on at this time of year so tourists can see the trees.”

He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Libby staring at him, so he continued explaining that there weren’t mistletoe trees, but that the plant grew on other types of trees. “Mistletoe is like a baby monkey wrapped around a mama or daddy monkey,” he said, hoping he was using a description that she would understand.

“I just like mistletoe because everyone in town likes mistletoe,” she replied.

She didn’t say another word to him or to her mother for the remainder of the drive. Jake found it hard to divide his attention between the road and the beautiful woman next to him.

He thought he’d never tire of looking at her, and it wasn’t just because her features were arranged in delicate beauty, but rather because she radiated such warmth, because her eyes held a wonderment and curiosity about everything. He knew instinctively that she was a woman who embraced all that life had to offer.

When they arrived at the restaurant, built to appear like a rustic mountain resort, Libby reluctantly removed her tiara and the three of them headed for the front door.

Melody released a small gasp of pleasure as they stepped into the restaurant. Although the outside had looked like a well-kept sports lodge, the interior was sleek, with intimate tables lit with candlelight and pictures on the walls that turned photos of mistletoe into works of art.

“It’s all so beautiful,” Melody said softly as they were led to a table by a large window. Jake pulled out her chair for her and then did the same for Libby. When he was seated, the hostess handed him the wine list with the promise of a waitress arriving quickly.

He’d thought Melody couldn’t get lovelier, but as he gazed at her with the candlelight dancing in her eyes and on her features, he’d never seen anyone prettier.

“Any particular kind of wine you like?” he asked. He tore his gaze from her and instead looked blankly at the wine list.

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of white wine, but I’m certainly no connoisseur. When I buy wine I always buy whatever is on sale.”

Jake turned his attention to Libby. “And what would you like to drink?”

Libby frowned thoughtfully. “Do you think they have root beer?”

At that moment the waitress arrived, and Jake ordered white wine for Melody, red for himself and a tall root beer for Libby. The waitress left behind menus, and for the next several minutes they talked about what they all wanted to order.

Once the orders were placed, Jake directed their attention out the window, where bare trees were lit with white lights, and nestled in the boughs were the green balls of mistletoe plants.

“Cool,” Libby said. “I always thought mistletoe grew on mistletoe trees.”

“It grows on all kinds of trees,” Jake replied. “Oaks and elms, even apple trees can host mistletoe plants.”

“I like my apples with cinnamon, not mistletoe,” Libby replied.

By the time their meals were delivered, the conversation was light and easy. Even Libby was animated as she explained to Jake the difference between a leotard and a tutu.

Jake was both electrified and surprised that having dinner with Melody and Libby felt so natural, so right. About halfway through the meal, he began to have trouble focusing on the tenderness of his steak and instead began to wonder if Melody’s kisses would be just as tender. He wondered if her skin was as soft and silky as it appeared in the candlelight. Somehow, some way, she’d lit a fire of desire in him, one that had caught him by surprise.

“Cowboy Jake?”

Libby’s impatient voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Yes, Libby?”

“I asked you twice if we could get dessert,” she exclaimed, and then smiled at him brightly. “Dessert might make me like you better.”

Jake laughed. Whether Libby liked him or not, he was growing quite fond of the little minx. “There’s no way we can end our meal without dessert.”

Libby gave him a little smile. “Then I’d like ice cream with chocolate syrup.”

They were a merry group when they finally left Mistletoe Mountain behind. Libby chattered like a magpie about the mistletoe farm and the facts that her spaghetti had been the best she’d ever tasted and her ice cream had been topped with just the right amount of chocolate syrup.

Melody was quieter, but cast him warm gazes that heated every inch of his body. If they were a real family they would now go home, tuck their daughter into bed and climb into their own bed and make love.

He tightened his grip around the steering wheel, forcing his thoughts away from the crazy fantasy. They weren’t his family, and he had no desire to make them so. He never again wanted anyone close enough to him that he would feel the way he had when he’d lost Stacy.

He could enjoy Libby, he could lust after Melody, but ultimately the very core of his heart was covered with a shield that he’d never allow anyone to pierce again.

* * *

“WOULD YOU LIKE to come in for some coffee?” Melody asked when they’d arrived back at her house. She was reluctant for the evening with him to end.

“Coffee sounds good,” he agreed, and entered the living room where a tall bare fake tree stood in the corner awaiting ornaments and tinsel. “You’ve decorated everything for Christmas except your tree.”

“It’s been tradition that we decorate it Christmas Eve especially for Santa’s arrival.” She turned to her daughter. “Libby, why don’t you go get ready for a bath?”

“Okay, and thank you, Cowboy Jake, for the dinner and stuff.” She skipped down the hallway.

“I think I’m making a little headway with her,” he said as Melody gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen.

Melody moved to the counter with the coffeepot as he sat in one of the chairs at the round oak table. “I’ve never seen her act the way she does with you with anyone else.” She poured water into the coffeemaker and shook her head. “And she won’t give me a clue why she doesn’t like you, although she’s certainly pleasant enough when she’s getting her way with you.”

She finished with the coffeemaker, and within seconds the scent of fresh brew filled the air. She had just poured their coffee and joined him at the table when Libby came back in the room. She was clad in a pink tutu and had on tap shoes.

“You were supposed to be getting ready for a bath,” Melody said.

“I wanted to show Cowboy Jake my pink tutu and show him my two most important dance steps,” Libby replied.

Jake raised a dark eyebrow, making him look like a dashing rake from a romance novel. “I definitely think showing me important dance steps is way more important than getting ready for a bath.”

Libby beamed him a smile that pleased Melody. She wanted Libby to like Jake as much as she did. And she so liked Jake. Every minute she spent with him only made her more excited for the possibilities of their relationship.

Somehow in the past two days she’d put aside her reluctance to get involved with another cowboy. She’d managed to rationalize to herself that Jake was a wonderful man who just happened to wear a cowboy hat.

“Okay,” Libby said, pulling Melody from her thoughts. “This is the step I do when I’m happy. It’s just a flap.” She executed the two-tone step around the table.

“That sounds like a happy tap,” Jake observed, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“And this is my mad step. It’s a flap ball change.” Once again she made her way around the table. The tap of her feet definitely sounded angry as she flapped hard and ball changed even harder.

She came to a halt at Jake’s side and leaned into him just a bit. “Now you know without me telling you if I’m happy or mad.”

“I think that’s a good thing to know,” Jake replied.

She leaned closer to him, pulled his head down and then cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered in his ear. When she was finished, she stepped back from him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said to her.

Libby looked back at Melody. “I know, I know. Bath time.” She flapped her way out of the kitchen and back down the hallway.

“What was that all about?” Melody asked Jake the moment Libby was gone.

“Ah, a gentlemen never tells secrets,” he replied. “All I can say is that it was nothing for you to worry about.”

Melody looked at him dubiously. “With that kid I never know what to expect.”

“She’s an absolute delight.”

Melody laughed. “Most of the time that’s true, but she can be as hardheaded as a mule at times.”

“A trait she picked up from her mother?”

“Perhaps,” Melody agreed with another laugh.

“I’m ready,” Libby’s voice drifted to the kitchen.

Melody stood. “If you’ll excuse me for just a minute, I need to set the water temperature for her bath.”

“Take as much time as you need,” he replied, looking utterly relaxed and as if he belonged at her table.

She hurried down the hallway to the bathroom, where Libby sat naked on the edge of the tub. “Bath and then bed,” Melody said as she turned on the faucets. “And what did you whisper to Jake before you left the kitchen?”

Libby yawned and then shrugged. “I just told him he’d better enjoy spending his time with you now ’cause after Santa comes you won’t have time for Cowboy Jake anymore.”

“And why is that?” Melody put in the drain stopper and felt the flow of water one last time.

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret between me and Santa.” Libby crossed her arms over her chest, an indication that no matter how hard Melody pressed, Libby wasn’t going to give up her Santa secret.

Libby slid down into the filling tub. “Don’t overfill, and call me when you’re ready for a tuck in,” Melody said.

When she returned to the kitchen, Jake was still in place, his long legs sprawled beneath the table and his cup of coffee nearly gone.

“Sorry about that,” she said, and went directly to the coffee carafe and refilled his cup. “She told me what she whispered to you.” She rejoined him at the table. “I have no idea what she thinks Santa is bringing to me that will take up all my time.”

“Maybe one of those yarn kits where you have to pull little pieces of yarn through holes to make a rug,” he said. “Stacy got one of those at her wedding shower. It was to make a little rug of sunflowers to go in front of the kitchen sink. She worked on it for months and finally packed it up in a box half-finished.”

“So she was the crafty type?” Melody asked, curious about the woman who had captured his heart.

He smiled softly. “She never met a Popsicle stick she couldn’t turn into a birdhouse or a Christmas ornament.”

“I admire people who can make something useful out of everyday things,” Melody replied. “The closest I get to anything crafty is bedazzling outfits for my little dancers.”

“There’s room for both talents in this world.”

She took a sip of her coffee and drank in the vision of him. She set her mug back down. “And you—what’s your talent, Jake Hanson?”

“I raise quality cattle and I can hammer down a fence post fairly fast. I’m not bad at a two-step and I can cook a mean pot of chili. Stacy used to say I gave the foot massage from heaven.”

“Don’t underestimate the value of a good foot massage. That’s a dancer’s dream,” she replied.

“Now tell me about your dancing. Were you a little tutu-wearing tap dancer when you were Libby’s age?” he asked.

“Absolutely. My parents put me in dance classes when I was three, and in that first lesson I fell in love with it.”

“Did you ever dance professionally?”

She shook her head. “As much as I loved dancing, it was always in my plans to become a teacher. I wasn’t willing to make the kind of sacrifices professional dancers have to make. I wanted marriage and a family. I love dancing, but it isn’t the sum of my life.”

“I’m glad I didn’t have to go all the way to Broadway to meet you,” he said.

She smiled, heated by the look in his eyes. “All you had to do was look out your window.” Her insides trembled slightly as she thought about how often she’d watched him from her kitchen window.

Had he noticed her when she’d been out in the yard? Had he been drawn to her as she’d been to him? Did he feel the attraction that crackled in the air at this very moment? Or was she the only one feeling a magnetic pull toward him?

“Mom, come tuck me in,” Libby yelled from her bedroom.

“And that sounds like my cue to call it a night,” Jake said. He got up from the table as she did, and she wanted to protest and tell him that the night was still young.

Instead she walked with him to the front door, pausing as he grabbed his coat and pulled it on. “It was a lovely evening, Jake.”

“Yeah, it was,” he agreed. His eyes darkened as his gaze lingered on her face, and then on her lips. “Good night, Melody.”

He turned and walked out the door.

She blew out a breath of sheer frustration. Why was it every time she anticipated that he was about to kiss her, she saw the backside of him running out her door?

Maybe he didn’t feel the sparks. Maybe he really was just a lonely cowboy passing the painful Christmas season with his neighbor and her daughter.