Read A Christmas to Believe In Online
Authors: Claire Ashgrove
A Christmas to Believe In (16 page)
"Daddy!" In a cacophony of scraping chair legs, clattering
silverware, and scurrying feet, the triplets darted across the
room to throw themselves at their father's legs. He squatted
to embrace them all in a giant bear hug. His gaze settled on
Zoe. As Clint looked on, Alex's expression softened, and the
light behind his eyes shifted.
Warning sirens blared in Clint's head. That appreciative
look had no business lurking on Alex's face. Not when he
intended to marry another woman in four days. Oh, holy crap,
what kind of mess had his youngest brother gotten himself
into this time?
Not wanting to witness any further uncomfortable
discoveries, Clint gulped down the rest of his coffee and set
the mug on the counter. "Gotta go check my mare. Be back in
a little bit."
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As Clint drove down the road to Jesse's, a sliver of anxiety
crept into his veins. Ten to seven—yesterday she'd come
outside about the same time. Would he catch her this
morning? He could think of no better beginning to his day
than the sweet paradise of her mouth. Already he'd gone too
long without it.
Here, away from the observant eyes of his family, he could
indulge in all the thoughts he'd stifled in the kitchen. She
would have loved Alex's girls. Those bright faces, the not-so-
innocent eyes, the laughs that brightened a room—his nieces
would have her wrapped around their pinkies in no time at all.
Jesse would make a good mother. Correction, she was a
good mother. She'd just missed the toddler years.
He furrowed his brows at the wayward thought. Not so
very long ago, the idea of Jesse and children felt as foreign as
ice in the Sahara. She'd never been a baby-sitter, never
oohed
and
ahhed
over babies. For that matter, she'd broken
her Child Development class egg and laughed as yarn hair
soaked up slimy egg white and bits of shell.
Yet, he could clearly see her standing over a dark-haired
girl the way Zoe had, those bright blue eyes shining with
pride and love. She'd look at him...
He pushed the image aside with force. Jesse and children
had nothing to do with him. This was temporary. A week long
indulgence. Maybe a little longer, if Angel refused to
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cooperate and foaled early. He didn't care who she had kids
with, or if she ever did.
As he nosed up her driveway, he looked to her house in
search of her car. A ball of despair thumped into his gut as his
gaze settled on emptiness. He'd missed her. Damn it.
Parking near the barn, he cut the engine and sat with the
keys in his hand. The inkling of disappointment twisted into a
foreign sense of apprehension. Was she avoiding him? She
knew he came by early. Had she changed her mind in the
middle of the night?
Annoyed by his sudden lack of self-confidence, he kicked
the door open and jumped down into the snow. If she'd had a
change of heart it could only be for the better. When he
stopped to really think about what they'd started, he knew he
had no business pursuing this. Jesse deserved more than a
casual fling.
He shouldered open the barn door, stepped inside, then
came to an abrupt halt. Behind the short stall front, a blond
head whipped around. Ethan's eyes went wide. In the next
blink, the darkness returned to his features, his mouth tight
and his gaze narrow. He stepped back from Angel, stalked
through the stall door, and shouldered past Clint.
"Hey, stick around. I'll teach you," Clint called after him.
"Shove off," Ethan barked as he stormed through the door.
Clint stared after him for several long moments. Suspicion
prickled the hair on the back of his neck. Had Ethan been
screwing with his horse? Or, was this innocent curiosity that
Clint had unwittingly interrupted?
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He shook his head, chastising himself for considering the
thought. Ethan might hate him, but from what Clint had
observed, the kid wasn't mean. And if his suspicions were
correct, Ethan's attitude came from having too much heart.
Especially where Jesse was concerned.
Moving inside the stall, Clint looked around for signs of
Ethan's activities. A fresh pile of hay sat in Angel's hayrack.
Her water buckets were clean and filled to the top. She stood
over her feed bowl, contentedly chomping. As Clint looked
over the edge, she mouthed up the last bits of bright orange
carrot.
A smile pulled at his mouth. Too much heart indeed. He
gave his mare an affectionate pat and picked up the plastic
pitchfork to remove her soiled bedding. If Ethan wanted to
tend to Angel, Clint would play ignorant. As long as the boy
didn't delve into her grain, he couldn't do any damage with
carrots, hay, and clean water.
For that matter...
Clint left the stall and went to his bag of feed. Grabbing a
spare bucket, he portioned out exactly one feeding's ration,
and set the bucket near the stall. He returned to the bag with
her feed bucket, filled it appropriately, then rolled up the
sack. He gave his mare her grain, and while she ate, went
about his morning routine.
Once he had the stall clean, he ran his test quickly,
pleased to find that her pH hadn't changed from the night
before. Fluxuations weren't abnormal. In fact, mares could
present all signs, keep their owners up for nights at a time,
only to fake everyone out and refuse to foal for another two
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weeks. There were no sure-fire guarantees. They could even
stave off first-stage labor for hours.
So far, though, it appeared Angel didn't have this
afternoon scheduled for delivery. He ran his fingers through
her mane, spent some time brushing her down, then secured
her in her blanket and left the stall. His gaze strayed to the
wall where he'd kissed Jesse. The memory of her parted lips
and the arousal that glowed in her brilliant gaze tightened a
fist around his gut. Lord, she'd been so willing. The way she'd
arched into his palm, her quiet sounds of pleasure—she
couldn't change her mind overnight. Could she?
God, he hoped not. The simple vision of their embrace had
his cock tightening already. He tugged at his jeans to create a
little room and forced himself to leave. His nieces waited. He
wouldn't disappoint them.
Grabbing the closed feed sack, he strode to his truck,
tossed it in the back, and climbed behind the wheel. Jesse
would be home later. He'd see her tonight.
He had to.
Jesse jumped out of her chair and grabbed her bag. A
quarter after one—at two, she'd have her final hearing on
Ethan's adoption. Her stomach fluttered anxiously, and her
heart beat in double time. Two years, and he'd finally be hers.
As she exited her office to pick up Ethan by surprise,
Susan looked up from behind her desk. She held up one
finger, halting Jesse's escape, and pressed the orange hold
button on her phone.
"Jonathan Whitfield is on line one for you. Shall I tell him
you're out?"
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Jonathan? What could her attorney possibly want now?
He'd see her in less than a half hour. "No, I'll take it." She
dropped her bag on the edge of Susan's desk, returned to her
office, and shut the door.
Taking a seat on the corner of her desk, she crossed her
legs and picked up the phone. "Hi, Jonathan. I was just on my
way to see you."
"Ah, yes. About that."
The hairs on the back of her neck lifted. Jonathan only
ever skipped a hearty hello if something was amiss.
Stiffening, she asked, "Is there a problem?"
He let out a heavy sigh. "Judge Raleigh's got the flu. He's
cleared his docket and reassigned only critical cases. Your
hearing's been pushed back until January eighth."
"What?" She jumped to her feet. "Tell me I didn't hear you
right. This is Ethan's Christmas present. He'll be devastated."
"I'm sorry, Jessica. I tried to pull a few strings, even
attempted to sweet talk his clerk. She assigned two cases,
where the children were in imminent danger, to Judge
Hathaway. Hathaway won't take any more."
"Isn't there someone else? Anyone? We've satisfied
everything they wanted. You said this would be simple. Surely
someone can review and see everything's in order."
"I know, and I'm sorry. There's just no one else, and I
can't get us in any sooner. I had to do some serious
negotiating to get us that early in the year."
Tears burst to the surface, and Jesse bit down on her lower
lip to squelch a sob. She inhaled deeply, forbidding the tears
to fall. She'd already had one embarrassing crying jag in front
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of her attorney. She wouldn't let him hear another. "Okay,"
she murmured.
"I'm sorry. I know how much this meant to both of you.
We've still got everything in line, we just have to wait a little
bit longer. I'll give his
Guardian ad Litem
a buzz and ask her
to let you handle telling Ethan. He'll take it better from you,
I'm sure."
Unable to make her throat work, she nodded.
"I'll call you on the sixth. We'll go over everything again,
and barring another personal day, we'll tie everything up
then. Have a good holiday, Jessica."
"Yeah," she whispered. "You too."
Lead weights settled into her arm as dropped the receiver
back onto the console. No adoption. No Christmas to
remember. All the time and effort she and Jonathan had put
into arranging everything in time for the holiday, wasted.
A sob threatened. She swallowed hard. Not here. She
refused to break down in her office. Her personal life didn't
belong at work.
Jesse rose on shaky legs. She had to get out of here
before she lost the ability to hold the sobs at bay.
Straightening her shoulders, she strode through the door.
Without so much as a sideways glance at Susan, she grabbed
her bag and hurried for the elevators. When they dinged
open, she rushed inside.
Please, please no one come.
To her relief, the doors rolled shut before anyone else
could climb aboard.
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Jesse sagged against the wall. This wasn't happening. The
one thing that would prove to Ethan, once and for all, where
her loyalty lay and what lengths she'd go to for him, hadn't
just puffed into thin air. At the present rate things were going
between her and Ethan, in two weeks, he'd detest the idea of
a permanent stay.
A solitary tear slid down her cheek. She brushed at it with
the back of her hand. Sniffling, she lifted her chin, determined
to make it to her car before the heartbreak overrode her
resolve.
Jesse made it as far as the parking garage. One step into
the dim enclosure, and her floodgates broke. She stumbled to
her car, let herself inside, then laid her forehead on the wheel
and gave over to the sobs that clawed at the back of her
throat. Anger, sorrow and frustration all warred within her.
The need to drive her fist into something combated with the
overwhelming urge to huddle into a helpless ball. She'd had
everything all planned—dinner, presents, games until they
couldn't celebrate any more and fell into bed. Their first
Christmas as a real family.
His
first Christmas with someone
who truly loved him.
Damn it, this was time for magic! If anyone deserved the
whole wondrous feeling of the holiday, Ethan did. When he
found out about this, he'd retreat into that gloomy place in
his mind where he didn't matter.
Lifting her head, she swiped at her cheeks. Sitting here
wouldn't make things any better. Ethan wouldn't get his
Christmas family, and she had four days to figure out what
kind of gift would make up for his loss.
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Clint crawled out from beneath the human weights intent
on tickling him. With a playful growl, he grabbed little Mia,
rolled her onto her back and returned her assault. The act
earned him the full out assault of her two sisters. Michaela
pounced on his shoulders. Macey plowed into his back.
Laughing, he reached an arm around behind and pulled
Macey off. Next came Michaela. Gathering all three in a bear
hug, he confined them to his lap. "Okay, little heathens. Uncle