That Christmas Feeling (16 page)

P
aul sat in his study, looking out the front windows.

He’d kissed Rose’s cheek two days earlier, and he couldn’t lose the memory. He relived the moment his lips had touched her face. He’d felt the cold of the snowflakes, but the warmth of her skin had melted his heart.

During the past days he’d faced where his emotions were leading him. He would sometimes pause in the kitchen doorway to watch her. How he longed to sneak up behind Rose, wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her graceful neck…but his dreams stopped there. Until he felt assured Rose would accept his advance, he’d keep his place, as she kept hers.

With possibilities tossing in his head, Paul wandered to the front window and leaned on the casing. He’d always disliked winter, but again today snow drifted down like feathers from a torn pillow. The view from the study inspired him. From the turret he could look out four windows into the wooded landscape across from the house. The bay window would make a perfect location for their tree.

Tonight Rose had mentioned hanging the Christmas dec
orations. He grinned, thinking about the electric candle boxes he’d seen stacked on the living-room chair, and he could picture one in each of the study and dining-room windows that looked onto the front. He was curious what else she’d bought that he didn’t know about.

Hearing the telephone jingle, Paul headed toward his desk, but the ringing stopped. Rose rarely received a call, so he left the study to see if it was for him. He heard her voice from the kitchen telephone, and he paused in the doorway.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

Inviting her? His chest tightened, and he waited.

“No. Really. I can’t. It’s impossible.”

Instead of eavesdropping further, he walked into the kitchen and leaned against the door frame. Rose’s face was flushed, and he knew something had upset her. A deep urge washed over him, and he longed to hold her in his arms.

“You’re very kind. Yes. Thank you.” She hung up the telephone, and when she turned around, she gave a start.

“Sorry,” Paul said. “I thought the call was for me.”

She shook her head, a frown furrowing her face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not really.”

He knew differently, but he hoped she would tell him. Paul’s concern grew. He crossed the kitchen and touched her arm. “You’re annoyed about something.”

Her eyes darkened when she looked at him. “I should be complimented, I suppose. A gentleman from church asked me to go with him to dinner and the Historic Home Tour.”

His pulse quickened.

She turned away. “I said no, naturally.”

Was that natural? She didn’t date. She longed for children and marriage one day, but she’d said no. As her em
ployer—her friend—Paul knew he should encourage her to go out with the man, but he couldn’t respond to her in either capacity. He could respond only where his heart led him. “You said no because of the children?”

“It’s not the children, Paul.”

He searched her eyes, wanting to probe. “I was just curious.”

“I know,” she said, her voice as disillusioned as the last kid picked on a baseball team.

He stood there not knowing what to say and knowing he should say nothing. He shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered across the room to the refrigerator. He stood in front of it, not hungry but yearning for something.

“Why did he call
here?
” Paul asked before he could stop himself.

“I work here. He didn’t know my home phone number. It’s not listed.”

It had been a stupid question. He couldn’t look in her eyes, fearing what she might see. Instead, he stared at the floor and dealt with emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Frustration, anxiety, jealousy. What would he have done if Rose had said yes to the man?

His mind worked like a calculator, trying to figure which man had called her for a date. He supposed the guy had every right, but it seemed…

His stomach twisted. He had no hold on Rose. She could date anyone she desired. She could do anything she wanted. The possibilities left him empty. Rose had become his life. She was the reason he hurried home. She was all he could think about. The realization etched itself on his heart.

He’d felt it coming like a gentle breeze—no sound, no drama, only an awareness, an airy dance of emotion that
touched him almost imperceptibly. He was falling in love with Rose.

“I’m going up to check on the kids and make sure they’re sleeping,” she said.

Before her words registered, she had vanished. He stared at nothing while questions filled his mind.

How could he have missed what was happening? He knew he admired her. He’d been grateful and tried to make her happy. But was that love? Could he want a mother for the children so badly that he only thought it was something deeper? A voice said no. Could he be responding to the social pressure of having a wife? No again.

His feelings were as real as the tension growing in the cords of his neck. He moved to the stove and turned on a burner, then filled the kettle and set it on the stove.

He heard Rose’s footsteps and paused.

“They’re asleep.”

Alien sensations sizzled through his limbs, and he didn’t know what to do or how to react. He gestured toward the kettle. “I’m making tea.”

“That sounds good.” She sat on the edge of a kitchen chair and ran her hand across the back of her neck as she stretched her shoulders.

“Headache?” Paul asked.

“A little one. I’ll be fine.”

Paul watched her a moment until longing spurred him to slip behind her. He used his thumb to massage her upper back, then kneaded her shoulder muscles, working his way up to the cords of her slender neck.

Rose gave a soft moan of pleasure as she relaxed against his hands. She tilted her head back and forth, her silky hair brushing against his fingers.

He struggled to keep himself from running his hands
through her locks. The kettle whistled, and he was forced to move away. “Feel better?”

“Thank you. That felt nice.”

He focused on making cups of tea while calming his emotions. He longed to tell Rose how he felt. Perhaps he could tonight if he found the courage.

“Let’s get comfortable,” he said, leading the way. They settled in the living room. Both seemed thoughtful and quiet as they sipped their drinks.

Paul noticed the boxes of candles and remembered their plan. “Are we decorating tonight, or don’t you feel up to it?”

Her gaze shifted to the boxes. She shrugged. “It’s getting late.”

“I’ll help you,” Paul said—anything to keep her there.

She set her cup on the saucer. “I told the kids they could help me decorate, but I assume they’re mainly interested in the tree.” She rose and moved to the boxes.

He joined her. “Ready?” His senses were sparked by Rose’s nearness. Her fragrance seemed to surround him—the scent of spices and vanilla like the cookies she had baked.

She lifted a box and tore off the wrapper. They worked together freeing the candles, then headed into the dining room and set them in the windows. While he ran after extension cords, Rose finagled a way to fasten them to the windowsills.

When they moved to the study, Paul pulled a Christmas CD from the stack, and the soft music floated through the speakers. When the last candle was attached and lit, they adorned the open banister with green and red ribbons, then attached the wreath to the front door.

“I’ll clean up,” she said, heading into the dining room. He returned to the study and gathered the empty boxes. Soon Rose came through the doorway with a trash bag, and
he dropped the cardboard into it. She knotted the end and he smiled at how organized she was…and how important she was to him.

A prayer entered Paul’s thoughts, and he sent it heavenward, asking God’s assistance. Rose’s sensitivity had become his primary concern. He had to tell her how he felt at the right time and in the right way. He could only pray that she would believe him and forget he was her boss.

Mel Torme’s velvet voice filled the room. “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.”

“Remember?” he said.

She searched his eyes and nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, trying to ease the mood. “Dance?”

Her frown returned, and he expected her to push him away, but he persisted. He grasped her hand and drew her into his arms.

The room was lit only by a desk lamp and the soft glow of the window candles. His pulse accelerated.

Rose felt stiff in his arms, but he drew her closer, breathing in her sweet fragrance and feeling the softness of her skin against his. Finally she relaxed and rested her head against his shoulder.

They moved slowly, swaying to the Christmas music, and Paul felt whole for the first time in years.

As the last strains of the song faded, Rose stepped back. Her hand trembled in his, and his gaze was drawn to the look of sorrow on her face.

“What’s wrong, Rose?”

She lowered her head, but he’d already seen tears rolling down her cheeks. His stomach tightened as fear slammed against his happiness.

“I’ve made a difficult decision this evening,” she said.

He didn’t like the sound of her voice.

“What kind of decision?”

“I’m going back to L.A. It’s the only way I’ll ever be happy.”

R
ose’s words knocked the breath out of Paul. He gaped at her, making no sense out of what she’d said. “Please don’t say that.”

“I’m not making idle talk, Paul. I’ve struggled with this for too long. I believe it’s for the best. We can both get on with our lives.”

Get on with our lives? What lives? She’d become his life. He opened his mouth to tell her how his feelings had changed and grown, how she filled his life with joy. She’d given him a sense of wholeness, but he searched her serious face and stopped himself from opening his heart.

Rose wouldn’t believe him. She would think he’d confessed his feelings so he could keep her there, and she’d promised never to fall for her boss.

The room hummed with silence.

Her misty eyes caught his. She stood so close he longed to take her into his arms again and hold her against his chest to soothe the ache that burned within.

He forced himself to speak. “What will we do? What will the kids do without you?” He captured her arms, his
heart ready to speak despite his fears. “What will I do without you?”

She lowered her head and shook it. “Please don’t ask me those questions. I’m trying to figure out what I’ll do with my own life.”

Her life.
His heart burned for her, and his prayer rose to heaven begging God for an answer. Did she love him? Could she love him? Questions pressed against his chest like a boulder. He needed time.

“The holidays are here, Rose. Christmas is less than three weeks away. Maybe this is selfish to ask, but could you stay through the holidays?” His hands trembled so wildly he shoved them into his pockets. “Stay for the children. They’ll be devastated without you.”

He’d be devastated.

His gaze followed the tears that rolled down her cheeks and he reined in the desire to kiss them away. He felt helpless and hopeless. Only God could heal the situation.

Rose inched her chin upward, her eyes wet with tears. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything now. I should have waited until the holidays were over.” She brushed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ll stay for the twins.”

He rested his palm against her back, almost afraid to touch her for fear he wouldn’t be able to stop. “Thank you. This means so much to me.”

She looked directly into his eyes. “I’m doing it for myself, too. Your kids mean the world to me.”

“You deserve children of your own. I know.”

She nodded. “I hope you understand.”

“I do…with all my heart.”

“We’ll have to make the best of it,” she said, rallying. “I feel better now that I’ve told you. We’ll get through Christ
mas, and then I’ll try to explain to the kids why I’m going. It’ll give you a chance to find someone to replace me.”

Replace her? His body trembled with the thought. “I can never replace you. Don’t even think it. You have no idea how much you mean to us.”

She stepped back. “Don’t make it more difficult. Please. This wasn’t a flash decision. I’ve struggled with it for a long time.”

“What will you do?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. My friend Jan invited me to stay with her until I get things together.”

She’d already spoken to a friend. Pain ripped through him. She’d really planned this long before telling him. He’d allowed himself to fall in love, and now…

“I’ll keep busy,” she said. “I want to do some more shopping. I have a few gifts for the kids hidden in the guest-room closet. I’ve wrapped some during the day when they’re at school.”

Her words tumbled together, and he made no sense out of them. Shopping? Gifts? How could she talk about those things? His sorrow veered toward anger. “You shouldn’t do so much for them.”

“Why not?”

He had no answer, except that she was leaving them. In a heartbeat Paul realized he was angry at himself, not Rose. She’d given her all to them. He’d given her so little.
Lord, help me to show my love. I’m lost already.

“Paul Stewart, please.” Rose waited, her ear pressed to the telephone and concern pounding in her head. Then she heard his voice.

“Paul, this is Rose.” She swallowed.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m worried about Kayla. She hasn’t gotten up from her nap this afternoon. She’s running a temperature, and she’s very listless.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know for sure. Colin seems all right. I called the pediatrician, and he wants me to take her to Emergency if I can’t get her fever lowered.”

“Emergency?” He paused. “I’ll come home now. You’ll need help with Colin.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Be careful. It’s snowing heavily over here.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Rose clutched the telephone to her chest long after Paul hung up. She feared she was acting overly concerned. Children got sick—that was part of life. But this time her worry had reached its peak.

Only hours earlier the children had hidden themselves away with the macaroni. They’d needed their safety scissors and glue, and Rose couldn’t imagine what they were making.

When she’d noticed Kayla’s discomfort, Rose had given the child aspirin. Now she’d given her more with the doctor’s orders, and all she could do was wait. If that didn’t work, she would bathe Kayla in cool water. Her next concern was not alarming Colin. He’d already hovered nearby while she telephoned the doctor, and he looked worried.

The snow had begun to fall early, and in the past hour it had increased. The wind had picked up, and the flakes were flying at a wild angle, leaving snow piled against anything standing.

Christmas filled Rose’s mind. It was only three days away, and its coming meant she would be leaving soon. Though
she’d professed leaving would be the only way she could be happy, her heart fought against her decision.

Each time she looked at the children, she was stunned by the emotion that rattled her. She loved them like her own, and the longer she stayed the more she cherished them. She’d thought leaving would bring her happiness, but now she sensed nothing could.

“What can I do?” Colin asked from the doorway.

“You can give me a hug,” Rose said.

He plodded across the room, his arms dangling like a chimpanzee, and wrapped them around her neck. She drew in the scent of his laundered T-shirt and the peanut butter and jelly he’d eaten for lunch. Rose knew he was concerned about Kayla, and so was she.

“I have time to play one game,” Rose said.

He grinned and ran from the room. Rose trailed after him, in no mood for games today, but she needed to keep Colin distracted as well as herself.

They played a game of concentration, and Rose was so distracted that Colin won legitimately. He jumped around the room, cheering as if he’d won an all-star game. She pushed herself up from the floor and tousled his hair. “Let’s go up and see if Kayla’s awake yet.”

“Is she sick?” His questioning brown eyes, the same color as Paul’s, searched hers.

“A little,” Rose said, hoping she sounded convincing, “but she might feel better now.”

“Did she take her aspirin?” he asked, striding beside her up the staircase.

Rose nodded.

When they entered Kayla’s room, Rose’s hopes died. Beads of perspiration covered Kayla’s nose and forehead.

“Could you do me a favor?” she asked Colin, hoping to keep him busy.

“What?” His gaze was directed at his twin.

“Would you help me run water in the tub? We have to make it cool. Not icy cold, but cool.”

He looked puzzled.

“Do you understand? We need to use the water to help get Kayla’s temperature back to normal.”

“Not cold. Cool,” he repeated.

She nodded, then grabbed the thermometer and put it under Kayla’s arm. She counted, then checked Kayla’s temperature. One hundred and four.

Rose beckoned to Colin to follow her, and they headed for the bathroom. Rose turned on the tap. “Now you check it for me, okay?” she said to Colin, his face so filled with concern it broke her heart. “Remember, not cold, but cool.”

Colin placed his hand in the water. “It’s good,” he said, looking at her as if to make sure he’d done the job well.

Rose felt the water. “Perfect. You’re doing a good job.” She touched the side of the tub. “When it reaches here, I’ll turn it off.”

“Is Kayla okay?”

“She’ll be fine.”
Please, Lord, we need Your help here,
she prayed as she waited for the tub to fill before turning off the tap.

When she returned to the bedroom, Rose slipped her arm beneath the child’s neck and called her name. “You need to wake up, sweetheart.”

Kayla gave a soft moan, her eyelids fluttering.

“I know you feel terrible, but I want to get you into the tub so you can feel better.” She eased Kayla up, her body limp, her arms flopping at her sides. Though Rose was slender, fear made her strong. She maneuvered Kayla into
her arms, then straightened her back and headed for the doorway.

Outside she could see the heavy snowfall continuing. She pictured Paul trying to drive the two-lane highway to the house, and she feared for his safety, as well.

When she entered the bathroom, she sent Colin to watch TV, then undressed Kayla and slid her into the tub. The child reared upward when the cool water washed over her, but Rose held her firmly and began to sponge her while sitting on the edge of the tub.

After a while her back ached, and she wondered if she had the strength to lift Kayla out of the water. She reached for the bath towel, and in her peripheral vision she saw motion.

“How’s she doing?”

Rose’s heart leaped when she heard Paul’s voice. “I don’t know. I’m praying she’s better.”

He moved to her side and rested his hand on Rose’s shoulder. “If you move, I’ll lift her.”

She breathed a sigh. “Thanks. Somehow I got her in there, but I wondered how I’d get her out.”

While Paul lifted his daughter, Rose wrapped her in a towel, and Paul kissed Kayla’s cheek, then headed toward her room.

Rose stood a moment, enjoying the sense of relief that rushed through her. Paul’s presence made her strong again. She might be an employee, but she loved them all as if God had meant them to be a family.

The stress of the day caught in her throat and pushed behind her eyes. She drew in a deep breath to calm her thoughts.

Paul glanced over his shoulder, looking for Rose. She looked tired and strained, and he couldn’t thank her enough for what she did for the twins. He’d been surprised to see
Colin enrapt in a television program. Before he came up the stairs, Colin had reported that he and Rose had played a game, and he’d helped her run the water. She was so good with the children. Like a real mother.

If only… He let the thought fade. Only God could solve what seemed so impossible.

In Kayla’s room Paul set her on the bed, wondering if he should leave her in the towel or find clean pajamas.

“Let me,” Rose said behind him. In moments she’d taken the wet towel from Kayla and dressed her in a nightgown, then pulled up the sheet.

Paul stood beside her holding the damp towel and looking down at his sleeping daughter. “How’s her temperature?”

“It was a hundred and four, but I want to take it again.” She tucked the thermometer under Kayla’s arm and checked her watch. Then she focused on him. “How was the driving?”

“Horrible. If I hadn’t started home when I did, I wouldn’t have gotten here. They’re announcing travel advisory warnings on the radio, and the snow isn’t going to stop for a while. They’re calling it a blizzard.”

“I saw it through the window,” she said. Her gaze fell to her watch. She leaned down and pulled out the thermometer. “One hundred and one.” She released a sigh. “Much better.”

She cleaned and stowed the thermometer, then turned to him with relief written on her face. “Thank You, Lord.”

He nodded. “I can’t imagine us trying to get her to Emergency in this mess.”

“Let’s just hope the fever stays down.” She brushed her hair from her forehead. “I suppose I should think about dinner.”

He touched her arm and smoothed her hair with the other hand. “Let me worry about that.”

A faint smile curved her mouth. “No pizza tonight.”

His heart swelled seeing her smile, as meager as it was. “You don’t think I can cook? Have you forgotten the meal I made for you?”

“Hmm.” She eyed her watch, then gave him a generous grin. “I think that was three months ago. Do you still remember how?”

Paul slid his arm around her back and guided her out the doorway, then gave her a wry look. “But what’s in the house to cook? I only have a small repertoire.”

She spurted a laugh, the first he’d heard in days.

“Okay, Chef Stewart. I’ll play assistant and show you a thing or two in the kitchen.”

Paul felt the Lord smiling down, and he sent up a rousing thanksgiving. If nothing more, the horrible day had drawn them closer. If God were willing to move mountains, maybe Rose would realize their ties were not only bound, they were tangled around their hearts.