Читать книгу The By Request Collection - Kate Hardy - Страница 73

CHAPTER ELEVEN

RUBY STOLE A sideways glance at Ethan and tried to confine the tornado of her thoughts. Yeah, right. Containment continued to elude her, effectively held at bay by the sheer nearness of Ethan as they settled under the heap of blankets on the carriage seat. Ruby clenched her jaw—she would not even contemplate the word snuggle.

Somehow she had to keep perspective, had to chillax and not read more into Ethan’s actions than there was. After all, she had earned a diploma in that. Yes, he had bought her a beautiful Christmas gift—instinctively her hand rose to touch the diamond pendant—but that was because Ethan was a good man who tried to give people second chances.

No doubt he had simply wanted to do for her what he had wanted to do for all those troubled teenagers. In fact he had practically said so...so there was no point to this continued analysis.

Time instead to concentrate on the beauty of her surroundings, which was enough to catch the breath in her throat. The ground was covered in snow, as if someone had taken the time to weave a thick white duvet to cover the landscape and then sprinkled the bare branches of the trees with a dazzling glitter. It was beautiful—glorious—magical. The silence was broken only by the chime of the horse’s bells, the huff of his breath and the crunch of his hooves in the snow.

‘This is beyond incredible,’ she murmured with a sideways glance.

Ethan’s expression was unreadable, but the vibe she got from him was edgy—as if he too battled complicated thoughts.

Her words caused him to blink and give a small shake of his head. ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it,’ he said. ‘Not too cold?’

‘Nope. The last time I saw snow was in London, and it had turned to slush before I could truly appreciate its beauty. This is spectacular.’

Now a genuine smile touched his lips as his gaze rested on her expression. ‘I hope you’ll like the next item on our agenda.’

‘Which is...?’

‘Sledging.’

‘For real?’

Excitement fizzed inside her and collided with a pang of emotion as a memory jolted her brain. Years and years ago she’d taken her siblings out into the snow. She’d carried Edie, who hadn’t been able to walk yet, Philippa had toddled beside her and Tom, aged just four, had raced ahead with a joyous whoop. They hadn’t gone far, just to a local park to watch the children sledge.

How she had yearned to have a go. But there had been no sledge, and she hadn’t wanted to draw attention to themselves. But it had still been a good day—they had made a snowman, thrown some snowballs, before Ruby had realised that there were some adults clearly wondering why they were unaccompanied and she’d quickly herded her siblings together and left.

‘Is that okay?’ A small frown touched Ethan’s face as he studied her expression and she did her best to erase the hint of wistfulness, the shadow of memory from her face.

‘It’s better than okay. I’ve never sledged before and I would absolutely love to.’

Ruby let the memory go with the silent hope that her siblings had had plenty of opportunity to sledge with their new family. Allowed the fizz of excitement to take ascendancy.

Minutes later the carriage drew to a halt and Ethan helped her alight. ‘Here we are. It’s a resort, but we have passes.’

They lingered for a moment to thank the driver and pat the horse, and then she turned and once again the scenery caused the breath to whoosh from her lungs. Snow glistened in the distant trees of the forest and crunched underfoot, thick and soft all at the same time—the way she had imagined stepping on clouds would be as a child.

They entered the resort and headed to the sledge hire desk.

The woman behind the counter smiled. ‘Would you like a paret, a disc or a toboggan?’

Ruby stared at the options. ‘I’ll go for a toboggan.’ On the basis that it looked the safest. The paret looked to be a mixture of a tricycle without wheels and a stool, and the disc looked as if it might well career round and round out of control. As that was her current mental state, there was no point adding a physical element.

The woman smiled. ‘I promise they are all safe, mademoiselle. They are designed to be safe for children as well as adults.’

‘I’ll try the paret,’ Ethan said.

Ruby narrowed her eyes. ‘Show-off.’

That garnered a smile. ‘Think of it as research. It’s occurred to me that I could offer moonlit paret sledging as a part of a holiday package.’

They exited the building and she inhaled the tang of snow and pine, absorbed the bustle of people and the sound of laughter. Took courage from the happy vibe.

Until they reached the top of the slope.

‘Um...’ Ruby peered over the edge.

Suddenly the snow was reminiscent of clouds only in the way that if you tried to walk on a cloud you would plummet downwards. The ground was a turreted mass of white, under which surely there would lurk hidden dangers.

‘You worried?’

Daft. She was being daft. This was an official slope, suitable for tiny kids. All she needed to do was look around again and observe them.

Her heart gave a sudden thump. Just a few feet away a mother with a baby in a sling helped two children get onto a sledge. A dark-haired boy and a younger little girl with blonde curls. The world seemed to fall into slow motion and for an absurd second she nearly ran towards them—until common sense drummed its beat.

That wasn’t Tom and Philippa. Tom would be twenty now, and Philippa nineteen. Even if they were here she wouldn’t recognise them. They were adults.

For a second, loss shredded her insides.

‘Ruby?’ Ethan’s rich voice held a question and a heap of concern.

For a mad minute she wanted to tell him the truth, in the hope that he could soothe the pain.

With muscle-aching effort she pulled herself together. Confiding in Ethan would only add to the intimacy she was trying to fight. In any case Ethan didn’t welcome emotional intensity; he hadn’t ten years before and he wouldn’t now.

‘I’m fine. Just chicken, I guess. Why don’t you show me how it’s done?’

‘No. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. We’re going to the café.’

‘I...’

‘No arguments. First rule of snow sport. You don’t do it unless you’re focused.’

Maybe he was right. Either way he wasn’t taking no for an answer and willy-nilly Ruby followed him towards the café.

* * *

Ethan held the café door open. The smell of coffee jumbled up with the aromas of vanilla and almond and Christmas spices. Carols filled the air with a choral hum—a festive backdrop to the chatter of families and the clink-clank of cutlery. Usually the scents would have triggered a smile, but Ruby seemed enmeshed in thought.

Even an almond croissant and hot chocolate didn’t bring more than a perfunctory smile to her face.

‘You want to talk about it?’ Even as he spoke the words he knew it was a foolhardy query. The invitation to confide, to share, was not one he would ever make as a rule. Panic threatened—an echo of a decade ago. He was letting her get too close. But how could he help it? When she looked to be in such pain, with her usual vividness drained? He wanted to help, to make it better for her.

If he had any sense he would never have let things get to this point—maybe he should have let history repeat itself and cut and run.

Chill, Ethan.

Time to remember that he was ten years older now, ten years wiser, and this time he would be able to control the situation. There could be no danger in an offer of support and it would be an impossibility to withhold that support.

‘If you want to talk I’m here.’

Her eyes met his with a hint of surprise, palpable hesitation, and a small determined shake of her head. ‘It’s Christmas. You’ve gone to all this trouble. I’m sorry to be a Debbie Downer.’

‘You aren’t. I promise. Ruby, we both know that Christmas can be an emotive time for people with difficult pasts. Talk to me. I know your childhood Christmases were grim. Maybe I can dilute some of your tainted memories.’

One more heartbeat of a pause and then she exhaled. Picked up the steaming mug of hot chocolate and cradled it, her eyes wide. ‘I guess for a moment out there the past arrived from nowhere and knocked me for a half-dozen. Those children on the sledge next to us... For an instant they reminded me of my younger brother and sisters.’

The words registered in his brain—generated a host of questions. If Ruby had siblings where were they now? Why did the memory of them haunt her?

Her gloved hand pushed a tendril of hair from her face and she sighed. The noise escaped into the chatter-tinged air with the sound of age-old sorrow and weariness.

‘Tom, Edie and Philippa,’ she continued. ‘I told you my parents were addicts. One of the ways they funded their addictions was via benefits. The more children they had, the more money they got. I was the oldest, then Tom, Philippa and Edie. I was six when Tom was born, and I can still remember the awe I felt when I first saw him—such a tiny scrap of humanity. I felt welded to him. Same with the girls. All I wanted was for us to stay together as a family, and I vowed I would do whatever it took. Mum and Dad told me that it was up to me—that they couldn’t do it so I had to be strong. I had to be responsible. I had to lie to social workers and school teachers. Had to make sure everyone believed we were a happy family.’

Ethan’s chest constricted at the sight of her face, whiter than the snow that glittered and glinted outside. He could picture a much younger Ruby, her expression oh, so serious, tucking an unruly curl of dark hair behind her ear as she concentrated on changing a nappy or manoeuvred a heavy pan of water onto the hob.

‘That must have been tough,’ he said softly.

‘It was and it wasn’t. I loved them all so much, you see—and I told myself that Mum and Dad loved us really. But the cold hard truth is that they used us. More fool me for ever thinking otherwise. Even after it all went wrong, when I screwed it up, for ages I still kidded myself that they loved me.’

‘What happened?’

‘I couldn’t hold up the façade and it crumbled down. We were whisked away into care. They couldn’t find a carer to take all four of us so we were split up. We went from being a family unit to having visits in a social worker’s office once a week if we were lucky.’

‘That must have been beyond terrible.’

‘It was.’

Her words were flat and in that moment he knew that it had been unfathomably horrific.

‘I fought for us to be placed together, or at least near each other. But nothing I said made any difference. The social workers said that we were better off like that than with our parents. But it didn’t seem that way to me. Sometimes I even pictured my parents missing us so much that they would turn over a new leaf and we’d all go back to them.’

She laughed—the noise devoid of mirth.

‘I take it that didn’t happen?’

‘Nope. They turned up to see me once—stoned and drunk—hurled abuse at me and the social worker ended the meeting. I’ve never seen them again. No idea if they are alive or dead.’

He placed his hand over hers, wished he could find words to convey his feelings.

‘Time went—and one day a social worker came and told me she had good news. An adoptive family had been found, but they would only take three children—Tom, Edie and Philippa. I was too old and too difficult. I’d been acting out, and they figured it would be bad for the others if I was placed with them.’

She paused, her blue eyes wide and unfocused, as if she had teleported through time to relive the moment.

‘The social worker explained that if they waited, kept trying to find someone to take all of us, it might end up that none of us got adopted—or that Tom, Edie and Philippa would end up separated. She promised me there would still be contact. I’d still see them. But it didn’t go down like that. Tom Edie and Philippa moved in with their new family and I was told there would be no contact whilst they settled in. I fought it—I went on and on to the carers, to the social workers. They told me I had to wait. That I was being selfish. Then one day I decided to take matters in my own hands. I bunked off and went to their school. I was so desperate to see if they were okay. That’s all I’d ever done, you see.’

Her hands gripped the mug of hot chocolate so hard he leant over and prised her fingers free, retained her hand in his grasp. He could envisage her so clearly; frantic and determined, fuelled by a love that gave her the strength to do anything for the sake of her siblings.

‘It was the end of school—I saw them run out to a woman who I knew must be their new mum. She looked so pretty, and like she adored them, and they looked so happy. It just needed Mary Poppins to make it complete. Not me.’

‘Oh, jeez, Ruby...’

What could he say? What could he do to fix this? To mend the void that echoed from her voice? Helplessness gnawed at his insides and he did the only thing he could. Moved his chair round the table in the hope that his body, his presence, would offer some comfort.

‘After I saw that I knew what I needed to do. I told the social worker that I didn’t want to see my siblings for a while. That I understood it was better for them to integrate into their new family. Eventually, with a social worker’s approval, I wrote them a letter to tell them I loved them but a clean break was better for all of us. I knew it was right—my presence in their lives would only make everyone feel bad. Their new family would feel bad for not being able to take me, and Tom and Edie and Philippa’s loyalty would be divided. That wouldn’t have been good for them. So I decided there and then that I would try and be happy for them.’

Her slim shoulders lifted.

‘And I am happy for them. But occasionally I still miss them so much it hurts.’

A solitary tear seeped from her eye and he reached out and caught it on his thumb. The moisture glistened on the pad of his glove and he pulled her into his arms.

‘It’s okay, Ruby. Cry it out.’

Her body tensed and he rubbed her back in a gentle circular motion. Felt her relax as she snuggled into his chest and wept. From somewhere he found soothing words as he rested his cheek on the silkiness of her hair. He realised he couldn’t remember a time when he had done this. Offered comfort. Oh he’d tried with his mother, after Tanya, but she’d pushed him away, her whole body stiff with grief. Her eyes had told him what she had later confirmed in words—the wish that it had been him who had died rather than his sister.

He pushed the thoughts away—right now it was all about Ruby. His past couldn’t be changed or fixed—his mother had no wish to mend fences in any way. Tracey Caversham wouldn’t even take his money, let alone any affection. But he was grateful that Ruby seemed to derive some comfort from his actions.

After a while she placed her palms on his chest and gently pushed herself upright. ‘Phew,’ she said as she looked up at him, tear-swept eyes glistening. ‘I’m sorry. What you said was so beautiful, and suddenly I could see them so vividly. Memories deluged me and turned me into a watering pot.’

‘There’s no need to apologise. At all. I’m glad you told me. Tell me more about them. About Tom, Edie and Philippa.’

So she did, and as she spoke he could visualise the energetic, dark-haired Tom, with his cheeky grin, see the chatterbox Philippa with her blonde ringlets and quiet, straight-haired Edie who sucked her thumb.

When she’d stopped speaking Ruby squeezed his hands. ‘Thank you. Mostly I try to leave the past in the past. But sharing the good memories has made the bad memories easier to bear. I feel lighter. Thank you, Ethan—and I mean that. If you ever want to talk I’m here for you.’

Her words triggered a strange reaction—for a second he allowed himself to ponder that scenario. Tried to picture the concept of sharing. Sharing with Ruby the way his mother’s face had always twisted at the sight of him, the continued rain of comments as to how he reminded her of his dad. How Tanya had shielded him with her love, but how that shield had been tragically removed by her suicide. His terrible grief and its aftermath. How spectacularly he had let his mother down and the devastating consequences.

Discomfort rippled in his gut, along with a healthy dose of denial, and he felt his lips curl with distaste. Not happening. If there was one thing his past had taught him it was the need to control emotion—all the release of it could achieve was pain. If he had only retained control after Tanya’s death then he wouldn’t have walked the road that had led to his mother handing him over to social services. To confide in Ruby would open up an emotional vortex and that was not going to happen.

So... ‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ he said as he pushed her plate towards her. ‘So what now?’

Ruby picked up the almond croissant. ‘I’d like to eat this, and then—if it’s okay with you—I’d still like to sledge.’

‘Then that’s the plan.’

* * *

It truly felt as if a bulk had been hefted from her very soul. The sadness was still there, but more manageable. As they exited the café the snow seemed even brighter, and now the sight of children filled her with a sense of hope and determination. Because one day she would adopt, and she vowed that she would take her children sledging.

A sideways glance at Ethan filled her with relief—his blue-grey eyes rested on her with warmth, but not a hint of pity, and she honoured him for that. For his innate realisation that pity would be anathema to her.

There was a bond between them now—she could see it shimmer in the air between them. They had both pulled themselves from the gutter and survived events that had had the potential to destroy. That was worthy of admiration—not pity. But she knew she felt more than admiration, and she needed to be careful. Because right now that gooey warmth had multiplied, and instead of being mortified at having wept all over him she felt energised...awash with dangerous feelings of intimacy. An intimacy he would abhor.

Sure, he had just proved himself capable of emotional understanding, but his withdrawal at the thought of sharing his own past had been crystal-clear.

She had to rein it in. Her goals and Ethan’s goals were as far apart as it was possible to be. Ethan wanted to sit in his un-rocked boat on his own—he wanted a life alone—and she wanted as many children as she could manage. So her best hope was that she and Ethan could become friends.

Yet right now she wanted more...couldn’t help herself. The tug of attraction, the tug of emotion, the tug towards him in general asserted a magnetism she somehow had to control. Because there couldn’t be anything else, and she couldn’t let herself fall headlong for yet another unsuitable man. Another man who would not or could not change his lifestyle for her.

Instead it would be better to focus on what she could share with Ethan—like this wonderful Christmas Day he had given her. Maybe she needed to focus on a headlong ride on a sledge... A peek down the slope and she felt a surge of anticipation.

‘Take it away, maestro,’ she said.

His smile was the genuine article—it lit his grey-blue eyes and her tummy clenched in response.

‘As you wish,’ he said, and he turned, dropped down onto the disc sledge and launched himself down the slope. Tore down the slope, swerved and manoeuvred, flew over the snow.

Once at the bottom he looked up and gave her the thumbs-up sign before beginning his ascent. She watched him climb back up, legs strong and body lithe. What was it about him that made him stand out? Maybe his aura—one that meant she would be able to spot him anywhere in the world.

‘There—see. Easy.’

Ruby looked down at the toboggan doubtfully. ‘I’m still not convinced I won’t fall off.’

‘It’s all about balance.’

‘Very Zen...’

His chuckle caught on the crisp breeze, and unlocked something inside her. The sight of his smile and the tang of snow made her breath catch, made her heart hop, skip and jump. and she felt her lips tilt into a grin.

‘Zen or not, you are going down that slope, Ruby. We’ll go together. This is one childish dream that you will fulfil. Come on. Sit. I’ll fit in behind you.’

Huh?

She squatted, placed the plastic toboggan on the snow and wriggled on, intensely aware of him as he lowered himself behind her. This was daft—they were both in Eskimo-level layers of clothing on a populated slope—not sunbathing on an isolated beach in bikini and trunks.

Ethan placed one arm round her waist and she swallowed her small gasp. His touch defied physics, felt electric through all the layers.

‘So all you have to do to steer is use this stick on the side, or your hands or feet.’

Was it her imagination or was his voice deeper than normal—the sort of deep that made her think of dark chocolate with a hint of ginger and spicy mulled wine? Panic mixed with a tummy-tingle of need.

Do something, Ruby.

‘Let’s go!’

They took off, skimmed over the snow. Exhilaration heated her veins as she let go, with no time to think or analyse or worry. She existed in the second, fuelled by adrenalin and sheer excitement as the world flew by until they reached the base and glided to a stop.

Pure elation frothed inside her as she shifted to look up at Ethan. ‘That was incredible. Like an out-of-body experience.’

Ruby stared at him. He looked...utterly gorgeous. And in this mood of sheer instinct she knew with a blind, horrible clarity that she wanted him to kiss her. That the tingles that coursed through her body were no longer due to her sledging experience. This attraction existed. No—it did more than that. Right now it burned...just like his gaze that was focused on her parted lips.

His pupils darkened; desire flared.

‘Ethan...?’

The question whispered across the snow-tinged air. Her heart pounded in her ribcage as her lips parted and she twisted round, propelled by an instinct older than time, her body no longer at home to the voice of reason.