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Authors: Ginny Baird

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BOOK: The Christmas Catch
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Chapter Twelve

 

Christine and Ellen rode in the front of the SUV while Tyler
slept soundly in his car seat in back. It had been a full and joyful day for
her little boy; Christine was grateful for that at least. She kept her eyes on
the road, trying not to think too hard about John’s parting statement. Could
she really have made such colossal mistakes that he didn’t ever want to see her
or Tyler again?

Ellen checked her lipstick in the driver’s side mirror and
fluffed her hair, lost in her own world. “I think the sexy professor’s sweet on
you,” she said settling back in her seat. “
Maybe
next year things will be different…?
That sounded promising!”

“You totally misread that, Ellen. I doubt that’s what John
meant at all.”

“He’s got the love bug for you, sister,” Ellen stated
authoritatively. “The love bug and it shows. That man wants you in his future.”

“That man, as you call him, was only making conversation.
Think about it Ellen.
I’m in Chicago
,
he’s in Vermont
… Just how is that supposed to work?”

“I used to date a guy in New York.”


Used to
being the
operative phrase.”

Ellen folded her arms across her chest. “As a girl who’s got
a date tomorrow, I don’t appreciate your pessimism.”

Christine turned toward her, pleased. “Carlos?”

“Isn’t he gorgeous,” Ellen asked with a sigh.

“I guess he’s got a certain appeal,” Christine said noncommittally.
“So, where are you two going?”

“Snowmobiling!”

“Seriously?”

“What? It’s not like bungee jumping. Though I’d be up for
that too… What do you think? Too much to suggest for a second date?”

“How long are you planning on staying?”

“For the rest of the holiday, and you?”

“Our return
flight’s
on the
twenty-eighth. You know that, you arranged it.”

“Oh right, right. Sorry. I forgot.” Ellen fiddled with her
purse, sneaking out her cell to check for messages. “Do you think Carlos has
been married before?”

“From what I hear, twice.”

“Third time’s the charm,” Ellen quipped merrily.

“You two just met!”

“I know, I know… Don’t take me so seriously. Heavens!” She
frowned, tucking away her cell. “So… When are you seeing John again?”

Christine’s lips took a downward turn as she fought the burn
in her heart. “I’m not.”

Ellen reached out and touched her arm. “What happened?”

Christine felt a tear escape her and she stealthily stroked
it back, hoping Ellen hadn’t seen. “I should never have gotten involved. I knew
from the beginning where things would end.”

“Did John say something to you?” Ellen asked with concern.
“When we were leaving, I mean?”

Christine pressed her lips together steeling her emotions.

“Have a nice flight,”
she said, battling the sting of her tears.

“Oh Christine, I’m so sorry. I had no idea, hon. Honestly,
none. John seemed like such a nice guy. I was hopeful, really hopeful—for
the first time in a long while—that you were finally getting your life
back.”

Christine collected herself, wiping her cheeks with her coat
sleeve. “My life’s in Chicago,” she said with more resolve than she felt.

“I know, and mine is too.” Ellen set her jaw, weighing her
own insecurities. “I’m not fooling myself with Carlos. The two of us are old
enough to know what the score is. That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a little fun
while we’ve both got some life left.”

Christine forced a smile. “Oh Ellen, I’d say you’ve got
plenty of life left. Maybe even more than Carlos can handle.”

Ellen laughed, the tension in the air lightening. “Thanks,”
she said. “I try.”

 

Later that night, Christine locked herself away in her room,
her heart breaking. All night long she’d held it in. Fear started as a gentle
roll, cresting the wave of her emotions, the moment John gave her that deer-in-the-headlights
look in the kitchen. By the time they were saying good-bye, hope had sunk in
the well of silence between them. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk. Discomfort
sprung instead from all that went unsaid. There was no discourse on keeping in
touch, or John seeing them off to the airport. The holiday had come, then—boom—it
was done, just as suddenly as fireworks exploding on the Fourth of July. But
here it was Christmas…
Christmas…
and
all its twinkling lights had faded for her, it seemed.

There’d been a time when the whole world had looked
promising. She’d had a handsome young officer on her arm and they’d been
expecting their first child. Dan had sworn he’d never leave her, but, due to
the cruelty of fate, he had. She’d never believed she’d love again, or even
meet another guy who’d catch her eye. Now here she was more painfully aware of
being alone than she’d ever been.

Christine sank to the carpet, her back to the door, arms
folded around her knees. “Oh Dan,” she said, doubling forward with her sobs. “I
miss you so much.”

A light rapping came at the door. “Everything okay in
there?” It was Ellen from the other side, her voice tinged with worry.

Christine sucked in a breath, her throat raw. “Yes, Ellen!” she
called back. “Just fine. Merry Christmas.”

Ellen hesitated before replying, concern clear in her voice.
“Merry Christmas. Sleep tight.”

Christine listened to her footsteps fade away,
then
folded her face in her hands. She’d been acting like a fool.
Crushing on a man who lived hundreds of miles away and clearly had no interest
in falling in love, much less having a family. She’d been crazy to believe
there could be more to her relationship with John than just a simple two-week affair.
Maybe it was good that she was heading back to Chicago, where she could put her
real world in order and ensure it all made sense. In the meantime, she’d need
to put on a brave face for these last few days and make the most of this
vacation for little Ty. He was the main reason she came here after all, not to
create delusional fantasies about her achieving a
happily ever after.

Christine dropped her forehead to her knees and let the
tears come quietly, as winds beat against the storm shutters. It was snowing
harder now, almost as fiercely as it had on the day they arrived. But nothing
could match the chill that settled deep in her soul to ravage her aching heart.

 

 

 
 

Chapter Thirteen

 

John fixed his brow in concentration, spreadsheets strewn
across the tabletop around him. His printer spewed out more papers as he typed
busily at his laptop, ignoring the doorbell the first time it chimed. It rang
again and Mason barked. John looked up with a start to find sun streaming in
through the windows. He stood wearily and walked to the door. Pulling it open
he spied Carlos dressed for the cold. Beyond him, Ellen smiled and waved from a
truck loaded with winter fishing gear.

“Carlos!” John said with surprise. “I thought you had a
date.”

“I do.” Carlos grinned broadly. “We’re just stopping by to
be sure that you won’t join us.”

Mason tried to spring out the door, but John stopped him.
“Not today, buddy,” he said to his dog.

“Come on now,” Carlos prodded. “It will be fun.”

John slowly shook his head. “Thanks, but I can think of lots
of things I’d rather do than be the third wheel on a fishing expedition.”

Carlos’s jowls sagged with disappointment.

“Besides,” John continued, backing into his house. “I’ve got
work to do.”

Carlos leaned forward and grabbed him by the shirtsleeve. “Amigo,”
he rasped under his breath. “You don’t understand. I’ve never taken a city
woman fishing!”

“Oh, no you don’t…” John chuckled and started closing the
door. “You got yourself into this; you get yourself out.”

Carlos stared at him with pleading eyes. “I’ll give you half
my catch.”

“Half of nothing is zero. We don’t need our accountant
friends to tell us that.”

Carlos stuck his foot in the door before John could close
it. “When have I ever not been there for you?”

“Lots!”

“Okay, maybe that’s true. But here’s the chance for you to
be the bigger man.”

“Good-bye Carlos,” John said, kicking his foot out of the
doorjamb.

John shook his head at Mason as they walked back to the
table. “And people say
women
are
complicated.”

 

Back at Winterhaven, Christine carted the last of their
suitcases downstairs.

“I can’t believe we’re really leaving,” she said, glancing
around the comfortable space that, in such a little while, already felt like
home.

“We’ll miss it here,” Tyler said, holding Jasper close.

Christine smiled tenderly at her son. “At least Santa
brought you some Lincoln Logs to take home.”

“Yeah. That’s cool,” he said his face brightening.

Christine gave the house one last perusal. Everything was pretty
much in order, other than a few odds and ends. She didn’t really want to put
all the things away in the event Ellen might need them. She’d even bought some
extra wine when she’d purchased her replacements, thinking Ellen and Carlos might
open a few bottles later.

Ellen had called her cousin in London to gently break the
news about her blooming affair with Carlos. To her happy surprise, her cousin,
by now involved with a handsome Frenchman, was delighted. Carlos was nice
enough, she’d stated, just a little too used to
taking a walk on the wild side
for her taste. Christine sighed,
glad that life had a way of working out much of the time.

“I guess we’ll let Auntie Ellen do the rest of the picking
up.”

“Why isn’t she flying back with us?” Tyler wanted to know.

“Your Auntie Ellen had a few things to take care of,” she
said, thinking of Carlos.

 

About ten miles away, Ellen stood in designer boots perched
over a fishing hole cut in the ice. She couldn’t believe she was doing this!
Fishing in the wilds of Vermont! It was positively to-die-for adventuresome,
particularly with one hot Latino along. His tender ministrations to her
scorched skin had worked wonders. While she wasn’t exactly as good as new, she
had improved enough to enjoy his attentions—and layer into this bulky
coat.

She felt a tug on her line and squealed with delight. “I’ve
got one! Carlos, I think I’ve got one!”

“Looks like a big one, too,” he said, stepping up behind
her.

The beast tugged harder, threatening to pull her in. “Whoa…
oh! Carlos!” she yelped, starting to freak just a little. Maybe it was enormous
and had teeth! Ellen wasn’t sure whether they had piranhas up here, but decided
now was not the time to find out.

“Hold it steady,” Carlos offered. “Let me help you.”

He sidled up behind her, positioning his legs on either side
of hers and wrapping his firm grip around the pole before them. She almost
swore she felt his pole pressing up against her backside. She squirmed with
excitement, suddenly too hot in her heavy clothing.

“This isn’t working out so badly,” he said in a sexy whisper
that nearly melted the ice beneath them. If she weren’t so dearly afraid for
her life, she might have found herself turned on. For now, Ellen just hoped to
live until lunchtime.

The line yanked forward as they wrestled with their footing.
“Do they have sharks up here? Great whites?” Ellen asked. She dug her heels
into the slick surface below her, thinking maybe practicality should have
trumped fashion just this once.

Carlos settled her hips and bottom against him with one arm,
to keep her from sliding, then said in a commanding voice, “We’re going to take
that sucker for what he’s worth. You ready?”

As long as he was in charge and they weren’t going under,
Ellen was prepared to do anything Carlos said. She nodded, grimacing at the
strain of holding the pole that arched over in their grip.

“When I say go…”

“What happens on
go
?”
she asked, glancing quickly over her shoulder.

His eyes danced with mirth as he gave her a peck on the
cheek. Her skin tingled at the brush of his beard and she saw a flash of bright
light. Either she was dizzy from the contact or going snow-blind. “We pull that
baby out of the water.” He leaned back a bit and added with a chuckle. “Though
something tells me it’s an awfully big baby.

“Ready…” he started, strengthening his hold on both her and
the pole. “Set…”

Ellen’s heart thundered at the thought she was about to do
it. Something so recklessly primitive as catching a fish!

“Go!” Carlos shouted, wrenching back with all his might.
Ellen gave it everything she had, yanking hard. The monster strained against
them. They pulled, it tugged…
they pulled
,
it tugged
. Then finally they pulled harder, and—
wham
! Ellen and Carlos fell back in a
heap, with her landing squarely on top of him.

“Are you all right?” he
asked,
gripping her breasts through her coat as she stared up into a clear, blue sky.

“I think so,” she said, spinning over on top of him. Six
feet away, the most enormous fish she’d seen in her life flip-flopped on its
side beyond their tackle box.

Ellen grinned. “We got him!” she shouted, happily pounding
Carlo’s chest with her gloves. “By God, we got him!”

Carlos laughed with delight and pulled her toward him for a
kiss. “Damn good fishing for a city woman.”

 

Christine and Tyler made their way through the busy crowd at
the airport, dragging their rolling carry-on bags behind them. They were almost
to security when Christine heard a distant cry. “Christine! Wait!”

Tyler turned first. “Mommy! Look!”

BOOK: The Christmas Catch
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