Читать книгу A Family for Christmas - Dana Corbit - Страница 13

An involuntary shudder swept through Wendy’s body. Had fear or cold caused the reaction? She’d been cold ever since she’d deplaned in Columbus. The strong wind had nearly swept her off her feet and had chilled her thoroughly while they walked to the airport’s parking garage.

Evan put his arm around her waist as they stepped inside a spacious room. Wendy drew a deep breath and leaned into his embrace. Two women waited for them. The older woman wore a welcoming smile. The other one stared at Wendy, an aloof expression on her face. A moment of tense silence seemed as long as an hour to Wendy as the women scrutinized her.

Wendy scanned the room. An island divided the kitchen and dining area from the family room. In her brief survey, she saw a large-screen television, two sofas, several chairs and tables, a bookcase and a fireplace framed by a massive mantel displaying many trophies and framed photographs.

“Welcome to our home,” the older woman said as she stepped forward and took Wendy’s hand.

“Wendy, this is my mother, Hilda,” Evan said with unmistakable pride, and Wendy sensed the close bond between mother and son.

Wendy assumed the other woman was Evan’s sister, but she didn’t offer any sign of welcome. A German shepherd stirred lazily from his place in front of the fireplace and came to greet them. Evan knelt down and rubbed his dense short coat of hair, and the dog nuzzled his face.

“And this is Victor,” Evan said. “He’s the boss around here.”

The dog barked up into Evan’s face, and the expression of delight on his face seemed to be a dog grin.

A blast of cold air stung Wendy’s legs when Olivia opened the door and carried in a piece of Wendy’s luggage. Olivia slammed the door against the strong wind. “Supper smells good, Mom,” she said. “I’m starved.”

“You’re always hungry,” her sister said.

“This is my other daughter, Marcy,” Hilda said.

“Hello,” Marcy said without a degree of warmth in her voice, and turned away toward the kitchen. “I’ll finish the salad.”

Marcy, too, had blond hair and blue eyes, and Wendy was amazed at how much all three children shared their mother’s physical characteristics. Mr. Kessler must also be fair-featured.

With a frown at her oldest daughter, Hilda said, “Olivia, show Wendy to her room, and, Evan, you can bring in the rest of her luggage while I finish supper.”

Evan still had his arm around Wendy’s waist, and she hated to leave him. He gave her a little squeeze, and she picked up her carry-on bag and followed Olivia into the central part of the house and up the carpeted stairway. The family room had been warm and cozy, but the large hallway was several degrees colder. The carpets, the wall hangings, the draperies and the furniture indicated affluence, and Wendy was uncomfortable. Wendy had never seen such a palatial house. She didn’t fit in.

“The guest room is next to mine, and we’ll share the bathroom between the rooms. Daddy and Mom sleep downstairs, and Marcy and Evan have rooms on the other side of the hall.” As Olivia led the way up the stairway, looking over her shoulder, she whispered, “Don’t pay any attention to Marcy. She’s always been jealous of Evan’s girlfriends.”

Wendy stopped in her tracks. She’d been curious about any previous girlfriends Evan might have had, but he had talked so openly about his past and hadn’t mentioned any romances, so she’d assumed that he, like herself, had never dated.

“Has he had lots of girlfriends?”

Perhaps realizing she’d spoken out of turn, Olivia said quickly, “I shouldn’t have said that. Marcy tells me I talk too much.”

Wendy followed Olivia into the square room with ceilings that seemed to be about twelve feet high. She stood in the center of the room, feeling lost in such space.

Watching her closely, Olivia said, “Not to worry. Evan has always had lots of friends, but he’s never wanted to marry anyone before. I’ve heard Mom and Dad fretting about it—wondering if he’d ever have any children. It’s tradition for this farm to pass down to the oldest son.”

Family traditions that determined an individual’s lifestyle before he was even born confused Wendy. Evan’s firstborn son was destined to someday own this huge old house whether he wanted it or not. She shook her head in confusion. Her mother had been an only child, and Wendy had no thought of any responsibility toward past or future generations. Wendy knew so little about her father’s family that she felt no responsibility to them, either.

“But what if Evan doesn’t have a son?”

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know! It’s never happened.”

Wendy was still standing in the middle of the room, feeling bewildered, when Evan entered with the rest of her luggage.

“Mom said that supper will be ready in about fifteen minutes, so you can wait until later to unpack.”

Olivia went into her room, and Evan said, “Anything wrong?”

She didn’t answer at first, but her face spoke for her. When his blue eyes met hers wistfulness flitted across her features. Her eyes clouded with uneasiness, and her body trembled.

“I don’t belong here, Evan,” she whispered between uneven gasps. “It was a mistake for me to come.”

Gathering her into his arms, Evan held her tightly, and she buried her face on the front of his flannel shirt.

“Of course you belong here. I invited you because I wanted you to meet my family. This farm is my heritage, and I wanted you to love it as much as I do.” He tucked gentle fingers under her chin and tilted her head backward. He kissed her on the forehead. “You’ve had a long day, but you’ll feel better once you’ve had one of Mom’s meals. Why don’t you take a quick shower and change into a pretty outfit? I’ll tell Mom to hold supper until you’re ready.”

Before he closed the door, Evan favored Wendy with a contemplative glance. She lifted her head and forced a smile to her lips. “I’ll hurry, Evan.”

Although she was uncomfortable and scared, Wendy didn’t want to embarrass Evan in front of his family. She hurried to shower and dress. She chose the warmest pants and shirt she had, knowing that her Florida clothes weren’t suitable for this climate. The soft fabric of the velour shirt felt good to her skin and the shade of blue matched her eyes. She brushed her hair and put on long loop black earrings. Taking a last look in the mirror on the antique dresser, Wendy knew that Evan wouldn’t be ashamed of her appearance. She hustled down the stairs, determined that, in spite of her inner turmoil and doubts, she would be a pleasant guest so that her behavior wouldn’t embarrass him, either.