Читать книгу The Complete Christmas Collection - Джанис Мейнард, Rebecca Winters - Страница 89

“PERFECT,” Blake had heard himself say. But he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her.

The way she was looking at him made it impossible. He’d never talked about Brad like that before—not to anyone but his parents. It made people uncomfortable. But not Hope. She’d spoken in such a matter-of-fact way that it had been a relief to express how he missed his brother.

And then she did the last thing he expected. She rested her hand on his scar, tracing the length of it with warm, soft fingertips. Exploring. Caressing.

He spanned her waist and lifted her down, never taking his gaze off hers. She wasn’t backing away this time. The music played softly and the lights glowed around them. And right now all he wanted to do was feel close to someone. To her. He knew in his heart that this could never truly go anywhere, but what she’d given him broke down all his resolve. With nothing more than a touch she’d accepted him, scar and all.

He covered her hand with his, pulled it away and squeezed her fingers—the fingers that had given him back something he’d lost long ago: faith. Faith that someone would see past the scar and see who he really was. Inside, where it mattered.

He dipped his head and kissed her lips. Warm, cinnamon-spicy lips that opened beneath his and for one breathless moment made him believe that anything was possible.

* * *

All Hope’s senses were on full alert as Blake touched his lips to hers. The glow of the Christmas lights beside them. The scent of the tree and mulling spice in the air. The sound of Christmas songs on the television. It was the kind of holiday moment she saw in the movies and read about in books; the kind that never happened to a girl like her but kept her up late on Christmas Eve under a blanket, with a DVD, a box of tissues beside her glass of wine and a packet of store-bought shortbreads that were never quite as good as Gram’s.

But here she was, closing her eyes as Blake’s warm lips beguiled her, tasting of cider and something far more potent than the tot of rum she’d put in his mug. His arm slipped around her, drawing her closer, and she put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the exciting firmness of his muscles beneath her fingers. He drew back slightly, their breaths mingling in the charged silence as the song switched. She bit down on her lip and chanced a look up at him, desperately wanting more and terribly afraid he might just realize it.

Looking up was a mistake and a blessing. The first petals of curiosity had been plucked and had been replaced by the more exotic bloom of desire and need. Blake’s embrace tightened and Hope wrapped her arms around his neck as their mouths met again, hotter, more demanding. Her breasts were crushed against his shirtfront and his wide palm pressed against the curve of her back, molding their bodies together as their breathing quickened.

She hadn’t expected this explosion, this powerful craving for him. It would only take a word and they’d be in bed together. Hope knew it, and the thought made her blood race. It would be fantastic. Blake was the kind of man who would be gentle and physical all at once. Careful, yet thorough. Sexy, yet loving.

And that last was what made Hope hesitate, back away from the heat of his touch and the glory of his mouth.

This wouldn’t be a casual one-nighter. A brief encounter with no strings. Blake wasn’t that kind of man.

And she wasn’t that kind of woman either. She wouldn’t be able to simply get up and walk away.

The alternative was getting in way too deep...or backing off.

She gathered all her fortitude and took another step backward, nearly tripping over the step stool, righting herself while her cheeks flamed and her heart seemed to pound a mile a minute.

“Hope...”

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “We can’t do this, okay?”

“You’re afraid?”

Damn straight she was. Afraid of everything she was feeling lately. Afraid of getting caught up in holiday nostalgia. And most of all afraid of getting caught up in him. It would be so easy.

“I’m here for a few more days and then I’m gone. I don’t do temporary flings, Blake. I’m not built that way.”

“What do you do? Because it’s perfectly clear that you don’t do serious or commitment either. What’s holding you back, Hope?”

Panic threaded through her limbs. “I’m just here to take pictures, okay?”

“Liar,” he said softly, taking a step forward. “Those pictures are just a reason our grandmothers gave us both. Surely you’d figured that out by now?”

The very idea frightened her to death. “Are you saying you’re...?” She choked on the next words. “On board with this? That you planned...?”

Oh, Lord. She was really starting to freak out now. Blake was looking at her in his strong and steady way, and she felt like a baby bird flapping its wings and still falling steadily toward the ground, waiting for the inevitable thud.

“Of course I didn’t plan it. When you arrived I knew you were the last person I’d be interested in.”

Ouch. That smarted. Even if it was what she wanted to hear, it stung just the same.

“Ditto,” she replied.

“And now we have this.” He swept out his hand. “It would appear we weren’t quite as right as we would have liked to believe.”

“It...it was just a kiss,” she stammered.

“Yes, it was.” He came closer and put his hands on her upper arms. “So why all the panic?”

“Because... Because...” But she couldn’t form the words for a coherent explanation.

Because she didn’t do emotional intimacy. And here she was, talking about it with him. Here she was, at his place, wiping away tears as she watched a young boy hug a horse or listened to the laughter of a girl who had very little to laugh about. This whole place was opening her up to a world of pain she’d shut the door on years ago. It was getting harder and harder to pack those feelings back into the box where they belonged. And what terrified her most was that she was afraid there would come a time that she couldn’t, and then she’d break.

“I know.”

His deep voice slid over her soul. He really did know, didn’t he? It was in his eyes when he looked at the photo of his brother. It was in his smile when he lifted Cate from her pony or sent Anna home with the little bit extra left over from dinner. He didn’t seem the least bit afraid of caring. But he knew she was. Because he’d been there.

She hadn’t truly cried in years, but right now tears threatened as everything—past, present, future—seemed to overwhelm her. It was like she was standing at a crossroads and it was too painful to go back, too frightening to move forward, but impossible to stay where she was.

She’d never felt more alone.

“What do you want from me, Blake?”

There was a long pause. “Nothing.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing. That didn’t feel like nothing.” She lifted her chin, challenging. “Do you want to sleep with me?” she pushed. “Or was it just a kiss? Out of the blue, perhaps? Maybe you just got caught up in the moment? Or were you looking for something more from a poor confused girl who needs fixing?”

He ran a hand over his hair. “Dammit, Hope, I don’t know!”

The words rang out, followed by a crystal clear silence between them.

“No, you don’t,” she said quietly. “And it’s unfair to take things further when neither of us knows what we want.”

“Why did you touch me, then?”

He turned the tables and butterflies started winging their way through her stomach again. She could still feel the texture of the skin on his cheek, marveled at the strength of him and the vulnerability, too.

She ignored the question. “Blake, we both know this is a mistake. Let’s just chalk it up to some spiced rum and holiday spirit and leave it at that. There’s no sense complicating it with things that will never be, and we both know it.”

“So reasonable,” he replied, his eyes blazing.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” she answered.

“You think you could?” He took a step closer.

“I might,” she admitted.

He didn’t know how many feelings had truly come to the surface during this trip. Didn’t know how many barriers he’d broken down simply by being himself. He could never know that.

Shaken, she looked up at him. “I need some time. A little while to...”

He nodded. “Fine. I’ll clean up here.”

“You’re sure?”

His eyes seemed to see everything, to see right through to the heart of her as he nodded. “I’m sure. You go on.”

She turned and fled the room, heading for her bedroom.

When she got there she closed the door carefully and sat on the bed. She bit down on her lip. Longings she hadn’t allowed herself for years had surfaced, all resurrected by the power of his kiss. She’d felt beautiful, cherished, strong and capable of anything. But now it was over she was faced with the truth. She was an emotional wreck. She didn’t know how to love, didn’t know how to trust anyone. She’d failed so many times to hold her family together. She’d wanted so many things for them all and instead they’d ended up at opposite ends of the globe. Her mother, father, Faith, Grace...all spread out.

She remembered Gram’s weary words the day she’d finally given up.

“You can’t take the happiness of so many on your own shoulders,” Gram had said wisely. “It’s okay, Hope. You can let it go.”

She’d let go of the responsibility, but she’d let go of her family, too.

And she missed them. Despite their differences and distance, she missed them.

She dried her tears and blew her nose. She had to stop thinking about Blake and put things in perspective. A few days from now and she’d be in Beckett’s Run.

She decided to forget about long distance and roaming charges and dialed Faith’s number. She needed a sister, and in her fragile state she wanted Faith, who had always been the gentlest of the three of them. Faith, who would be easier to talk to than Grace right now.

“Hello?” came a sleepy voice after the fourth ring.

“Crikey, I forgot about the time difference.” Hope calculated in her head and realized that it was nearly midnight in England.

“Hope?” Incredulity colored her sister’s voice.

“I really am sorry, Faith. Go back to sleep.”

“I wasn’t asleep.” There was a sigh from the other end. “Is everything okay?”

“How did you know it was me?” Hope lay down on the bed, sinking into the pillows.

“I don’t know many people who say ‘crikey’ in an American accent.”

“Right...”

“Are you okay, Hope?” Faith’s normally gentle voice held a note of worry. “You never call. And you sound...” She paused. “Is Gram okay?”

That was part of the problem, wasn’t it? She never called. And now that Hope had her sister on the phone, she didn’t know what to say.

“Gram’s okay and so am I.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Hope sighed and leaned back on the pillows. “I was just wondering... Does it strike you funny that Gram has asked all three of us to do favors for old friends? I mean, me with the photos, you and the stained glass—and Gram said Grace is going back to Beckett’s Run...”

“I don’t follow.”

“Well...” Hope brushed her hand over her eyes. “I mean right smack in the middle of all three are...”

“Men?”

There was an acerbic tone to Faith’s voice that made Hope sit up. “Yes,” she said emphatically. “You know Grace is going to see J.C. when she’s back? And this Marcus guy, for example...what’s his deal?”

“You mean Lord Westerham?” Faith huffed out a sigh. “He’s a thorn in my side, that’s all.”

“I hear that,” Hope replied, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. “Blake is driving me crazy.”

“Crazy good?”

Now, that was a loaded question. “Truthfully?”

“I could use a diversion. What happened?”

“We kissed. That’s all.”

She could nearly hear Faith’s smile through the phone.

“You kissed? That’s all?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You didn’t sleep with him?”

“Faith!”

Faith’s soft laugh echoed in Hope’s ear. “All this fuss over a kiss? Imagine what Grace would say.”

The unstoppable Grace always took life by the tail and never angsted over a simple kiss, did she?

And in that moment Hope realized something strange and important. She envied her youngest sister. She admired her. Grace had never been burdened by the responsibility of keeping the family together. It showed in the way she lived her life—on her terms and with no apologies. Grace, of all of them, was the most courageous.

Hope had never been that brave. And it showed.

“Hope? You still there?”

“I’m here.”

Faith’s voice was serious again. “Are you okay, really? You never call like this.”

“I just got to thinking about when we were kids and stuff. We had some good times, right? Especially at Gram’s. I was pretty put off by being told I had to go home for Christmas, but I’m sort of looking forward to it now. How about you?”

There was a pause, and then Faith sighed again. “Hope, there’s something you should know before you fly home.”

Alarm bells started ringing in Hope’s head. “What is it?”

“It’s Mom. It seems she...and Dad are both in Beckett’s Run for the holidays.”

Hope didn’t miss the pause before the word dad. It had always been really hard for Faith once she’d found out that she had a different father from her two sisters. It had been the nail in the coffin of her parents’ marriage, really. The moment that their father—Greg—had finally had enough.

“That must be tense,” she managed to say.

“Apparently not as tense as you’d think.”

Faith’s voice held an implication that was startling. Hope sat back and let that tidbit of news sink in. Their parents were actually getting along?

“I’m glad you called,” Faith continued. “This way you’ve got a heads up.”

The line was silent for a moment or two. Did Hope want to open the Pandora’s Box that was their relationship with their parents? She closed her eyes and pressed her hand to her forehead. Not tonight. It was too complicated. They’d be on the phone for hours.

“Does Grace know?”

“I don’t know.”

Another telling pause. Hope wondered what Faith thought of it all. And Grace... The three girls were so different. But they all bore the scars of their inconsistent childhood in their own way.

“Faith, listen. I just wanted to call and say...” Say what, exactly? It was going to sound stupid and emotional, and that wasn’t Hope’s style.

“Say what, Hope?”

“That I’m sorry. I gave up on the family and I shouldn’t have. I wish we’d stayed closer, you know? We’re sisters.” She thought of Blake and Brad. They wouldn’t have another chance. But Hope did.

“You tried too hard, that’s all.” Faith’s voice was warm and reassuring. “You tried to step into Mom’s shoes and we resented you for it.”

“Not you. You were never as hard to handle as Grace.”

“I just handled it differently. I quit playing peacemaker and walked away. I’m as much to blame as you, Hope.”

Hope’s lower lip trembled as the simple words of truth touched her heart. “I think it’s going to be good to see you this Christmas.”

Faith laughed. “Me, too. Goodness, I don’t know who this Blake guy is, but he must be something to bring all this about.”

A hot flush seemed to crawl up Hope’s body. Something? Oh, he was something all right. Not that she would go into details.

“He just makes me think, that’s all.”

“Right. So what’s the problem? Why not see what happens? When was the last time you were involved with someone?”

The answer to that was long and complicated. She gave her sister the short version. “I’m flying out in a few days. I hardly know him. The only alternatives are to drop everything in Sydney to be with him, or try a long-distance thing from Australia to Canada. Based on what? Ten days? Either option would be crazy.” No matter how great a kisser he was.

“You’re right. That doesn’t sound very practical. And you’re not the risk-taker in the family.”

Hope let out a breath. “See? You get it. What about you and the Earl?”

“Oh, no,” Faith replied. “You called me. We’re talking about you. Not me.”

“For now.”

“You should go. This has to be costing you a small fortune.”

Hope recognized a diversion when she heard it, but things were going too well for her to persist and risk the fragile connection they’d made. “It is, but I’m glad I called. I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”

“You got it.”

“Bye, Faith.” She hit the end button and put the phone on the night table.

It had been right to call. Right to reconnect. And it had felt good to put into words how she’d been feeling about Blake. No matter how attracted she was becoming, no matter how much she was drawn into caring for him, anything more was a ridiculous idea doomed to disaster. Look at her parents. They’d dated briefly and jumped right into marriage and they’d all paid for that mistake. The very idea that both of them were in Beckett’s Run now, making nice, made Hope roll her eyes. Why would this time be any different than before? She hoped Faith wasn’t getting her hopes up for some big reconciliation. Hope was sure that this time would be exactly the same as all the others.

It was insane to think of anything coming of her time here with Blake. Anything serious was inconceivable in this short amount of time. And anything else was just pointless, wasn’t it?

And there was still his Christmas party to get through.

She was just going to have to toughen up and Scrooge her way through—to keep them both from being hurt in the end.

* * *

Blake turned his head at the sound of heels on the concrete of the barn floor. His first appointment wasn’t due for another half hour, and he knew that particular sound anyway. Hope’s heeled boots—the silly ones she’d worn the first day and that he’d hoped she’d wear again each day since. Totally impractical, yes. Also totally sexy.

He stepped out of the stall, stood the shovel on its end and rested his arms against the handle.

“You’re up early.”

“Just wanted to let you know I’ll be gone for the day. I don’t have a present for Gram or my sisters, and the last thing I want to be doing is shopping at the airport.”

“Nothing says love like an airport gift shop.”

She smiled. She had on that red puffy jacket again—the one that made her cheeks look extra rosy.

“Exactly. Even worse would be the shops in Beckett’s Run on Christmas Eve, after everything’s been picked over.”

Never mind that he understood exactly what she was doing. Putting distance between them. Things had been strained ever since that kiss, despite their attempts to keep it casual and pleasant. There was an atmosphere now.

But he wasn’t going to do anything to stop her. She’d brought him up short the other night, asking him what he wanted from her. He didn’t have an answer. He wanted her. He wanted to feel close to her. But beyond that she was absolutely right. She was leaving in a few days. A rough-and-ready tumble in the hay might be on his mind, but it wouldn’t help matters any—not in the long run.

And it was probably better if she was out of his hair for the day. Being so close to her, smelling her shampoo in the moist heat of the bathroom after her shower, the hint of lipstick on the edge of a coffee cup...

Everything about her was driving him crazy. In all the very best and worst ways.

“Drive carefully and enjoy yourself,” he advised, keeping a bland expression on his face.

She looked at him strangely but smiled, shifting her purse over her shoulder. “I will.”

Her boots clicked over the concrete once more and he resumed shoveling.

But damned if he could get her out of his mind, or decide what he was going to do about it.

* * *

Hope headed toward the downtown core of Calgary, hoping to get there early and finish before lunch. There was one place in particular she needed to stop on the way home and it was quite a bit out of the way. She had found the perfect present for Blake. One that he’d never see coming. She couldn’t keep herself from imagining the look on his face when she presented him with bells for his sleigh. It had taken some searching but she’d found them.

And if it looked like he was going to make too much of it, she’d say they were for Cate. It had been the little girl, after all, who had looked up at him with huge, innocent eyes and insisted that the sleigh have a set of bells.

She parked and wrapped her scarf around her neck, enjoying the walk through the bustling streets. It felt familiar, the crush of people going to work, cell phones pressed to ears and random conversations happening all around her. It was vital. It was teeming with life.

Then she thought about standing on the crest of the ridge with Blake, looking out over the mountains. That was vital, too. And awesome. A place where a person could be quiet with their own thoughts.

She stopped at an intersection and waited for the light to change. Frowning, she stared at the flashing orange hand. Had all the noise of her life kept her from thinking too much?

The light changed and she hotfooted it across the street surrounded by men and women, all headed to their destinations. Where was she headed? She hardly knew anymore. But she rather suspected that her old way of living wasn’t going to fit quite the same way again. And where did that leave her?

Stephen Avenue Walk was awash in holiday spirit. Banners hung from old-fashioned-looking light posts, and above her head Christmas lights were strung across the walk. No vehicles were permitted on the street so pedestrians mingled freely. In front of one store she marveled at an intricately carved ice sculpture of a Christmas tree and presents. Each storefront was draped in ribbons and bows and sparkled with red and green and gold. She could only imagine what it would look like at night, all lit up, and could almost see herself wandering along with a gingerbread latte in hand.

And someone to share it with.

She took her camera out of her handbag and snapped a few pictures. It wasn’t good that she was imagining strolling through the walk with Blake, holding hands and admiring the decorations, doing some last-minute shopping. She tucked her camera away and zipped up her bag. She was here to shop for her family, and that was what she was going to do.

Venturing on, she entered an upscale shopping center. At a bookstore she found a hardcover book featuring a beautiful stained-glass collection. She bought a stunning cashmere scarf and glove set in the department store for Gram, wincing at the price tag but wanting to treat her grandmother to something fancy and upscale.

She browsed through the store, admiring the fine clothes and gazing at perfume bottles with longing. But today wasn’t for her. She resisted the urge to treat herself even as she passed the lingerie section. She had a weakness for pretty underwear and nearly gave in when she spotted an emerald-green silk bra and panty set on sale. But she turned away, knowing she didn’t need it. Knowing that there weren’t any occasions to warrant it in her future.

And yet she hesitated, just for a heartbeat, remembering the look in Blake’s eyes as he’d kissed her. There could be, couldn’t there? If she allowed it. If she let him in.

Getting away for the day had been smart. Even this morning, in the barn, there’d been a light in his eyes that was hard to resist.

In the end she gave it one last longing glance and moved on.

She still had to find something for Grace—the hardest present of all. What could she get for a woman who didn’t settle down? Who lived her life from a suitcase? Perhaps Faith and Hope lived oceans apart, but they’d made lives for themselves in one place. Grace traveled endlessly.

At a gallery she spent more than she’d planned on a small painting for Grace—a grove of trees leading to a river. It reminded Hope of summer days in Beckett’s Run. The colors were soft and blended, giving it a lazy, nostalgic feeling. Looking at it, she felt her throat tighten. Her sisters hadn’t given up on her, had they? She’d given up on them. Or, more accurately, she’d given up on herself.

It was too late now to get those years back. Grace in particular was angry with her, and rightfully so.

Before she could change her mind, she handed over her credit card and bought the piece. Grace traveled, but she did still have an apartment. A home base. Maybe the girls couldn’t go back to those days, but if they were all going to be together for Christmas perhaps they could remember some good times.

With her sisters and grandmother taken care of, that just left Blake. As Hope wandered farther into the historic district she saw a store boasting Westernwear. Unable to resist, she went inside.

It smelled of leather and cotton, and Hope couldn’t hold back the small smile that touched her lips. This was Blake’s world, wasn’t it? Boots and leather, jeans and belt buckles. She didn’t know why she was here, really—her plan had been to pick up the sleigh bells and that was it. But there wasn’t anything wrong with getting him a small something to say thank you, was there? After all she’d been staying in his house and eating his food for more than a week already.

And she was giving him plenty in return—professional photos, a part of her argued.

She ignored the thought. She could buy someone a present if she wanted. She ran her fingers over the soft fabric of a red long-sleeved shirt. Blake looked good in red. It set off his complexion and made the blue of his eyes stand out somehow. Kind of like it had just before he’d kissed her in front of the Christmas tree.

She swallowed. It was just a shirt, right?

And she really should get something for Anna, she justified. After all, Blake was her host but Anna cared for the house and did most of the cooking. That was all these things were—host and hostess gifts. Nothing deeper than that. She found a silver hair clip set with turquoise that was gorgeous, and added it to her purchases.

Ten minutes later she walked out, hands full of shopping bags and well satisfied with the morning’s work. A quick stop at another department store secured wrapping paper and bows. She was all set now, wasn’t she? To her surprise she found she was actually excited for the holiday—something that hadn’t happened in years.

Her stomach growled, so she stopped for a sandwich and a coffee and opted to eat outside. It was cool, but not cold; she took her simple lunch to Olympic Plaza and sat, enjoying the sight of skaters swirling around what was a wading pool in summer, and admiring the arches built for medal presentations during a previous winter Olympics. She sipped her coffee and sighed. She liked it here. It was a big city, with big oil and gas money, but there was still a feeling about it—a down-to-earthness that she appreciated. She’d bet this place was beautiful in the summertime.

And the mountains were only an hour away.

And so was Blake.

Disturbed at the direction of her thoughts, she threw her wrapper and cup in a garbage can and made her way back to the parking lot. She still had to drive to the southwest corner of the city to pick up the bells, and then make her way back to Bighorn before dinner.

As she brought up the address on her GPS she frowned. She’d taken a day away from the ranch to get away from Blake, to stop thinking about him. And instead he’d been in her thoughts all morning. More than in her thoughts.

He’d been everywhere. And it was more than just appreciating the sight of him in well-fitting jeans and boots. It was inside. She cared for him. When he was with her it was like someone lit a candle inside her, warm and bright. She was falling for him, and that was so not the plan.

It was only the indisputable knowledge that nothing could come of it that kept her from moving forward, from exploring what might be between them. As she’d told Faith, the idea of a long-distance relationship was ludicrous, as was the notion that she’d leave everything behind in Sydney without a hint of a guarantee.

She only had a few more days. If she and Blake gave in to temptation it would only make leaving more difficult, wouldn’t it?

Hope headed south on Macleod Trail and let out a huge breath. She just had to get through this party thing, which shouldn’t be too difficult, right? There would be plenty of people around running interference. She’d probably hardly even see Blake during all the ruckus.

And damned if that didn’t make her feel even more lonely.