That Christmas Feeling (12 page)

Claire struggled to hold back the tears that threatened. “Go ahead and be honest. I’m your friend, Rob.”

“You’re my friend, that’s true. But…” He let out a breath that was warm against her ear. “But, Claire, I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I walked into the gym and Mr. Jackson handed me the name of my partner and I saw it was you—a skinny freshman with red hair that stuck out in strange directions and a sharp tongue and a heart that was bigger than any I’d ever known. I loved you way back then, but I was too thick to admit it—okay, I was as dumb as a Missouri mule and twice as ornery. Doing things my own way took me down the wrong path, just as you said it would. But God saved me and brought me to Him and gave me a reason to live again. And then He put you back into my life. Claire, I know you just see me as a friend, and you’ve been through all that pain in the past, and you’ve worked hard to make a new life for yourself, but—”

“But if you don’t kiss me right now, Robert West,” she
said, turning in his embrace and throwing her arms around his neck, “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Without waiting, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him with every ounce of feeling that had been building inside her for so long. “Oh, Rob, I love you, too. I love you so much I’m about to burst with it!”

“Claire, are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You know I always speak my mind.”

“Then I want you to have my heart,” he said softly. “Just take it and hold it and keep it safe forever. Will you do that?”

She searched his eyes. “Forever?”

“I want you to be my wife, Claire. I know it’s sudden, and I don’t mind if you take your time—”

“Yes!” she cried, the tears at last spilling down her cheeks. “Yes, I want to be your wife, now, always, forever!”

With a burst of laughter he caught her up in his arms and swung her around. “Do you mean that? Oh, girl, I’ve been going crazy over you!”

“Rob, this is too much! I can’t believe—”

“Here we go again,” Flossie cut in as she hobbled across the room, shaking a finger at them. “Spooning right here in public. Kissing and giggling and whatnot. Let me tell you something, young man. You’d better have honest intentions toward my niece. She’s a fine girl, and I mean to protect her from the likes of scalawags and scoundrels.”

Claire and Rob stared at Flossie for a moment, and then they swept her into their hug. As the three turned around and around in the parlor, the music box mirrored their movement—shepherds and kings circling the holy infant, so ten
der and mild. Through Him, promises made would be kept. Miracles begun would end in completion. What was broken would be made whole. And one day, the whole world would sleep in heavenly peace…sleep in heavenly peace.

“’Twas in the moon of wintertime

When all the birds had fled,

That God, the Lord of all on the earth,

Sent angel choirs instead.

Before their light the stars grew dim,

And wond’ ring hunters heard the hymn:

Jesus your king is born!”

—Jean de Brebeuf, traditional carol

To my husband, Bob, who has given me more than I could ever return. He is my support, my cheerleader, my housekeeper, my cook, my laughter, my love. Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful gift.

“R
ose…I want you to marry me.”

Rose Danby’s spoon clanged into the sink as she spun around to face her employer. She searched his face, expecting to see a grin, but he looked serious. He was handling the joke with the skill of a stand-up comedian.

“So…what’s the punch line?” Rose asked.

Paul Stewart faltered. “It’s not a joke. I was thinking that—”

“It’s not a joke?” She felt her forehead rumple like a washboard. Not that she wouldn’t want to marry a man as kind and handsome as her employer, but she was his twins’ nanny. “What do you mean it’s not a joke?”

His gaze searched hers. “I’m sorry. I shocked you.” He moved closer. “It just makes sense.”

“It makes sense to you, maybe, but I don’t get it.”

He glanced over his shoulder before refocusing on her. “Are the twins sleeping?”

She nodded. “They went to bed about an hour ago.”

A relieved look settled on his face, and he pulled out a kitchen chair. “Could we sit and talk?”

Talk? She felt her legs tremble and realized sitting was a wise move. Before she took a step, the teakettle whistled. “How about a cup of tea…while we chat?”

Without waiting for an answer, she moved to the stove and pulled the water from the burner. Talk? What more could he say after his “I want you to marry me” line?

Rose made the tea with as much speed as her shaking hands could manage, then set a mug in front of him and sat across from him with her own. “What’s this about?”

He raised his focus from the cup to her face. “I’ve been asked to take a transfer. Told is more accurate.”

“Transfer?” Her world spun out of control. What would she do? She had taken this position more than a year ago after a romantic fiasco. She wasn’t ready to find another job. “You mean transferred out of L.A.?”

He nodded, then refocused on the tea.

“Transferred to where?”

“Minnesota.”

She felt her breath escape. “Minnesota?”

He inched his gaze upward. “To Little Cloud.”

“But why? I don’t understand.”

“One of our branches is having serious problems. They’ll give me two years to troubleshoot or close the place.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then shook his head slowly. “That’s why I need you. The kids need you.”

The kids. What would life be like without his four-year-old twins? Ice edged through her veins. Though she had a huge challenge with Paul’s daughter, Kayla, Rose loved the children. Kayla had been born a quiet child, and her brother, Colin, had taken over for her. She mainly communicated through Colin and occasionally her father. But Rose had finally made progress. What would happen if they
moved away? Kayla needed her. They both did, and she needed them, but… Her thoughts were a jumble, but one thing was clear.

“I can’t marry you, Paul.”

Though she spoke the words, the vision of being in Paul’s arms rose in her mind. She had dreamed it before, then scolded herself for being so foolish. She was the nanny. The dinner maker. Even the thought of another employer-employee romance made her recoil.

His brown eyes sparked with concern. “But I can’t go without you, Rose. I can’t find someone to care for my kids and handle a floundering corporation without help.”

“You didn’t ask me to help. You asked me to marry you. They’re different.” A deep sigh escaped her. She longed to say yes, but she was a Christian—a woman who knew love and commitment were what the Lord expected for marriage.

She shook her head. “I can’t leave Los Angeles, and I can’t marry someone who doesn’t love me.” Old memories tore through her and left her reeling.

“I thought you loved the kids.”

“You didn’t ask me to marry the kids. I love them with all my heart. The thought of losing them kills me.” Tears rolled from her eyes.

He knelt beside her. “Don’t cry. Please. I made a terrible mistake asking you to marry me. I know you’re a Christian woman, and I thought marriage would be the only way you’d agree to come with us.”

Angry at her uncontrolled emotion, she grabbed a napkin from the holder and daubed her eyes. “You’re an executive. You’re strong and persuasive. Tell them you can’t drag your kids that far away. They’ll have to listen to you.”

“And if they don’t?” He rose and rested his hand on the back of her chair.

She lifted her eyes to his stress-filled face, trying to contain the ache in her heart. “They’ll listen, Paul. They have to.”

R
ose…I want you to marry me.

The words still echoed in Rose’s ears two months later as she looked out the patio window of the lovely Victorian house that Paul had rented in Little Cloud. The setting was perfect for the twins—large yard, woods, creek, freedom. She watched them playing in the leaves, still amazed that in October trees had already turned colors.

Since arriving, she’d reviewed why she had finally agreed to come. But the answer was easy. The separation from the children had been dreadful. At night she would look at the moon and tell herself the same moon was hanging over Little Cloud, Minnesota, but the thought hadn’t given her comfort as much as it had accentuated her isolation.

The children had become her life. After three weeks of Paul’s pleading, she had agreed to relocate, and her fantasies had grown, with herself as mistress of a lovely home in Little Cloud—Paul coming home to dinner and telling her about his difficult day.

Then reality had set in. Things hadn’t changed at all. As always, when Paul arrived home she returned to her quiet
apartment. He had kept his promise—their deal, he called it. Not only was the apartment waiting when she arrived, but he’d bought her a new car.

Rose pulled her thoughts back to her task. She unloaded another carton of kitchen equipment and piled the empty box along with the others. She’d discovered the boxes in the back entry, waiting to be unpacked.

Time was fleeting, and Paul was late again. Even if he ate warmed-over meals, she had to feed the children.

Rose set the boxes aside while she checked the casserole in the oven, then called the children inside. They scampered through the doorway with leaves clinging to their clothes and dried grass on their shoes.

“Don’t move,” Rose said.

Colin stopped, then halted Kayla by the patio door.

“Look at your shoes,” she said, heading for the broom. When she returned, Colin giggled.

“Shoes off and shake your jackets outside before you go upstairs…or I’ll use this broom to shoo you back outside.”

Colin dodged her teasing and even Kayla grinned as they slipped off their things and darted up the stairs.

Rose chuckled at her ploy. She used the broom as an idle threat. The twins would laugh when she grasped it and gave them a warning, but she’d learned they would usually do as she asked.

She swept up the debris and put away the broom. Then remembering Kayla’s tangled hair, Rose headed for the staircase. “Kayla, please bring down your brush.” If Kayla didn’t respond, she prayed Colin would bring it.

In minutes, the children’s footsteps reverberated on the stairs, and Colin arrived with Kayla’s hairbrush.

“Thank you,” Rose said, giving him a quick hug.

“Kayla, please come here.”

Rose looked at the four-year-old and waited.

“Kayla, please.”

The girl didn’t move.

Rose’s stomach twisted. Since their relocation the child had reverted to her old self before Rose had become their nanny. “Colin, please talk to your sister.”

He repeated Rose’s request, and without hesitation Kayla crossed the room and sat beside Rose.

She dragged the hairbrush across Kayla’s long hair while the little girl sat statue-still. Rose wanted to take her in her arms and hug conversation out of her, but she’d tried that before and Kayla hadn’t responded.

The day Rose had arrived in Little Cloud, Kayla had clung to her like moss to a tree trunk, but when it came to speaking, Rose never knew what to expect. She wondered if the child feared she’d leave again.

The thought broke Rose’s heart. One day she would leave when Paul had no need for her anymore. A new panic jolted her. What did she have to go back to? She’d forsaken everything to make the move.

As Rose continued brushing Kayla’s hair, static lifted the strands like magic fingers. “Look, Colin.”

“She looks like a long-haired porcupine.”

“I do not,” Kayla said.

Rose heard curiosity in her voice. “Yes, you do. Colin’s right.” Praying it would work, Rose lifted the hand mirror in front of Kayla. “See for yourself.”

Kayla giggled. “I do.”

The child’s words thrilled Rose. “But you’re a very pretty porcupine.”

Kayla looked at Rose—her smiling brown eyes so like her father’s—and grinned.

Rose put down the hairbrush while an unexpected con
cern filled her mind. Kayla had begun preschool, and Rose prayed the other children weren’t making fun of her and the teacher hadn’t lost her patience. If so, Kayla could slide back even further. Maybe that’s what was happening to her now.

The casserole’s aroma filled the kitchen, and in moments the children and she were around the table, saying a blessing before they ate.

Time ticked past, and Rose finally sent the children to bed without seeing Paul. The scenario broke her heart.

The moon had risen high over the trees when Rose finally heard Paul’s car pull into the drive. She stood and headed for the kitchen. He stepped through the doorway the same time she did.

“You look terrible,” she said, witnessing the stress on his face and the tired look in his eyes.

He dropped his briefcase on a kitchen chair and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m okay. The place is too laid-back for a well-run corporation. I’m trying to get the hang of their politics before implementing changes.”

She moved to the refrigerator and brought out his dinner plate covered with plastic wrap. “How much longer will this go on?”

He shook his head and sank into a chair. “I don’t know. It’s taking more time than I planned, but I hope it ends soon.”

“So do I.” Rose slid the dish into the microwave and pressed the buttons.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I know this cuts into your time.”

Her time? Rose’s life revolved around this family. She had no life of her own. She wondered if he really understood. “It’s not me I’m thinking of, Paul. It’s the kids. They miss you.”

“I know they do, and I miss them.”

Rose looked at his expression and wished she’d kept quiet.

P
aul’s head drooped, and Rose turned away, her heart aching for him. He wanted to be a good father, she knew.

When the buzzer sounded, she pulled a salad from the refrigerator and set the plate in front of him. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sure,” he said, “if you don’t mind.”

While she filled the coffeemaker, her mind whirred with memories. She recalled the day she’d arrived in Little Cloud. Paul had surprised her at the airport. She’d envisioned him dressed in a dark suit with a conservative tie and his hair immaculately combed as usual. Instead he’d worn jeans and a T-shirt beneath a plaid flannel jacket open at the front. His hair had seemed longer and shaggier. He’d looked as handsome and burly as a Minnesota lumberjack. She’d faltered before gaining control over her emotions. At that moment she had known she was in trouble.

“Rose.”

Hearing the single word—her name—stirred her senses, and she swung around, sprinkling coffee grounds on the clean floor.

Paul noticed and smiled. “Sit with me while I eat.”

She worked like a robot cleaning up the spill, then settled into a chair across from him.

Paul drew the napkin across his mouth. “How were the twins today?”

“Something good happened. Kayla spoke to me.”

His face brightened. “What brought that on?”

She told him about Kayla’s hair static. “I’m thinking I need to do something special with her. Colin spends his afternoons outside searching for all kinds of horrible bugs, while Kayla wants to play. I need to find ways to show her more attention.”

“She’ll eat that up.”

“I hope so.”

“How’s she doing in school?” Paul asked.

“I haven’t heard anything, but I plan to talk with the teacher next week and see if Kayla’s communicating.”

“Good. Thanks.” Paul glanced at his empty plate. “I did a pretty good job.”

“You did. You want that coffee now?”

His chair scraped on the tile as he pushed it back. “Sure. Then we can sit in the living room and talk.”

Her pulse jumped at his words. “Talk?”

Paul gave a tired grin. “Just talk. I need a friend.”

He needed a friend. So did she, but any relationship beyond the boss-employee boundary sent chills down her back.

“You go ahead,” she said, “and I’ll bring it in.”

Paul vanished through the doorway, and Rose stared at the empty space. She poured the coffee and carried it into the living room. Paul had lit a fire, and the warmth beckoned her. She handed him a cup, then settled nearby.

Silence surrounded them, except for the snap of the embers sending up a sprinkle of red and yellow sparks. She
watched the glow, waiting for Paul to talk. The longer she waited the more uncomfortable she felt.

This wasn’t the first time Paul had asked her to visit before she made the lonely ten-mile trek home. Sometimes she wondered if she’d made a mistake letting him persuade her to relocate. But she couldn’t blame him solely. Her heart had made her decision.

“Why so quiet?” Rose asked, wishing he’d say something.

“Thinking about the kids. I know I’m letting them down when they need me.”

“You are. I’m not going to soften it. They wait all afternoon for you to come home, then go to bed missing you.” She missed him, too, if she were honest.

“I’ll do better soon. Promise.”

“Promise?” She’d heard that before. She knew he had good intentions, but—

“Please trust me. I’m trying to get things settled.”

Trust me.
She’d heard that before, too.

They fell into silence again, and Rose relived the hurt and humiliation of nearly two years earlier when she had learned that her fiancé—her boss—was cheating on her. While she was chattering about her marriage plans and spitting out her hopes and dreams, the whole office staff knew about…

The memory caught in her throat. She’d stopped shedding tears. Now she’d hardened herself. That day, she had returned Don’s ring and walked away from her plush job. Never again. She’d trusted a man once. She had garnered too much experience, too much doubt and too much humiliation to make that mistake again.

“Sometimes I feel strange, sitting here with you.”

“Strange? Why?” He looked at her for the first time since she’d brought him his coffee.

“Many times you’ve asked me to sit after you get home late and we chat like old friends…and yet I’m your employee.”

“Rose, please,” he said, grasping the arm of the chair and leaning closer. “You’re more like a friend, not an employee. I have employees at the plant.”

Friends. Employer. Employee.
She gazed at Paul’s profile. He was good-looking and stable. She wanted to trust him. His light brown hair shimmered with highlights in the glow from the fire. But she’d let good looks sway her once. Not again.

Rose paused a minute, drawn by the gold and red leaves fluttering to the patio. The children’s laughter drifted in from outside. They seemed to love the outdoors and had spent time after school playing hide-and-seek, then switching to tag as they tripped and tumbled onto the broad expanse of lawn. When they bounded from the ground, the leaves attached to their clothing like colorful patchwork.

Looking out, Rose smiled until she recalled Colin offering to show her a snake he’d found. She wanted no part of any creature that didn’t walk on four legs or two. That included bugs and spiders.

Rose looked at the clock, knowing she should be doing other things, but none of the options struck her fancy. The fresh air had a greater pull.

She climbed the stairs, grabbed a sweatshirt and tugged it over her blouse. Back in the kitchen, she stepped through the doorway to the covered patio. A pleasant breeze carried the scent of damp earth and dried foliage to her.

A leaf rake leaned against the house as if calling to her, and she grasped it while the children beckoned her to join the fun. While the twins grabbed handfuls of the dried
leaves and tossed them her way, she raked them into a pile. Because of the noise the children were making, Rose didn’t hear Paul arrive until she felt him shove a handful of leaves down her neck.

“This is war,” she called, gathering her own crispy weapons and charging toward him.

Still dressed in his suit, he captured her hand and held it fast while his other one grasped her waist as if fending her off. She tried to wiggle free, but he kept them close.

When their eyes met, something passed between them. Awareness? Concern? Surprise? Before she could decide, he pulled away with a laugh. “Unfair,” he said, dashing across the lawn. “Let me go change.”

In a flash he was gone, and the children joined her using their hands while she piled the leaves into a high mound.

When Paul returned, dressed in jeans and a pullover, he brought along another leaf rake and a camera. They took a break to snap photos of the twins, then Paul and Rose with the autumn colors as their background.

Finally they returned to work. But before Rose realized what Paul was plotting, he grabbed her rake and tossed her into the colorful heap. Leaves billowed around her, catching in her hair. They crackled as she shifted to rise, ready to make her own attack, but the children had already begun the job.

With the twins against Paul’s back, he tumbled forward and landed beside her with a thwack. The crisp pile crunched beneath Rose’s elbow as she tried to move out of the way, but Paul turned his face so close the nearness unsettled her. Before she could escape, the children joined the battle with armfuls of gold and orange.

Playful, Paul became her protector, blocking the children’s attack. As he shifted, their noses brushed in the
chaos, making her heart flutter like a lone leaf clinging to an overhead bough.

The twins jumped into the fray, and they became a tangle of arms and legs until she and Paul sorted them out. They clamored from the strewn mound, their cheerful voices ringing in her ears.

For once Rose knew why she’d come to Little Cloud.

This was home.

Paul stepped back and feasted on the sight of their leaf-strewn clothing. The children’s smiles had never been brighter. His gaze shifted to Rose, her cheeks ruddy, her eyes glistening with their fun. His chest tightened.

He’d managed to convince her to come to Little Cloud. He’d called it a deal. Agreement. Contract. Whatever. He had dragged Rose to Minnesota to make life easier for him. He’d given little thought to her needs, and now he’d asked her to be his friend. An unpleasant sensation rattled through him. Had he turned Rose’s life upside down only to offer her a business deal?

He studied Rose’s slender frame. He loved her broad smile when the children made her laugh with their antics. He couldn’t help but wonder why she’d never married and what had caused her to leave a good paying job and end up baby-sitting for his kids. She’d never told him, and he felt it too personal to ask.

But then, who was he to question anyone? Since Della’s death, he’d had to learn to live without a woman. But time had passed, and he felt his mind and heart wakening to a need. His gaze shifted to the children. They deserved a mother.

He grabbed the rake and dragged the thought away along with the leaves. “Let’s get this back into a pile, and
we can have a bonfire.” He had to do something to stop the ache that had grown inside him.

Rose excused herself and headed for the house while Paul tugged at the leaves, drawing in the scent of autumn and a hint of winter’s cold. When he’d made a high mound, he lit the leaves and watched the flame grow, crackling and spiraling smoke into the air.

Despite his attempt to forget, his concern for Rose returned again. The children were a handful, yet the dearest kids on earth. But they were nonstop, and so was Rose’s life. He had to give Rose a break. She put up with too many long, stressful days.

He thought of his aunt Inez, who’d been so helpful when he first arrived. He’d been blessed to have her so near. Asking her to help again seemed pushing his luck, but he had to do something until his work life calmed down. He would think of something special for Rose.