A Christmas Bride (19 page)

David's response was too low and quiet to be heard. Mrs. M crossed the room and pressed her ear up against the door. Willow wished she hadn't done that because she didn't want to know what David said. At that moment, her face felt like it was on fire, and her heart had risen into her throat. She expected the ground to open up and swallow her.

“David, don't be stupid,” Pam yelled. “I know your father and sister want to smooth things over, but they don't seem to understand the problem. That woman is not good enough for you. She's nothing but a slut, like her mother. She was having an affair with the CEO of that company. Did you know that?”

Again David's response was too quiet to hear, but at least it was cold comfort that she'd told David all about Corbin. David didn't see her as a slut. She knew that in the deepest places of her heart.

And she might have been all right if not for the fact that she glanced toward Natalie. The little girl stood there with her hands balled into fists and a pained expression on her face.

Did Natalie understand what the word “slut” meant? Willow hoped not, for David's sake as much as her own. The little girl didn't need to hear all this ugly stuff.

“Mrs. M,” Willow said in a strangled voice as the reality of her situation hit home.

Shelly's mother turned, and Willow nodded in Natalie's direction. “Maybe we should—” Willow began.

But Natalie interrupted. “Why is Grandmother so unhappy?” she asked.

Mrs. M bent down and tucked a strand of red hair behind the child's ear. “I don't know, precious. Sometimes grown-ups can be pretty darn stupid, if you ask me. Why don't we go see if we can find some gingerbread cookies to go with that hot cocoa.”

Natalie resisted Mrs. M's tug on her shoulders. “You said ‘stupid.' It's not nice to say that word.”

“I'm sorry. You're right, but—”

“And Daddy got mad at the teachers and called them stupid too.” Natalie took a step toward the door. “And then he had to apologize.”

“I know, but he was—”

Natalie shook her head and dodged Mrs. M's hands. She ran to the library door, pulled it open, and marched right into the argument.

“Stop yelling, and stop calling my daddy stupid. That's not a nice word,” she yelled at the top of her voice. “I hate it. I hate you. And yelling like that is stupid, stupid, stupid. I wish Mommy was here. She'd make you stop yelling.”

Both Willow and Mrs. M reached the library doorway in time to see Natalie's face crumple into tears before she turned and pushed through the French doors, taking off toward the caretaker's cottage.

“See what you've done now?” Pam said in a hard, flat, angry tone. She wasn't looking at David when she said it either, because David had left the room, following his daughter's flight.

H
alf an hour later, Willow strode through Serenity Farm's front door to find Mom at the kitchen table eating something that looked kind of gray and vaguely disgusting.

“What is that?” she asked.

“It's eggplant parmigiana. It's delicious. You want some?”

Willow was hungry, but she shook her head. “No. I think I'll pass. Not a big fan of eggplant.”

She sat in one of the kitchen chairs.

“So, you're not here for dinner. What's the occasion?” Mom asked.

Willow's face heated. “I'm here to beg a place to sleep. Would it be okay if I moved back into the upstairs bedroom?”

Mom didn't give her any kind of “aw, baby” look. That had never been Mom's way. Mom was a believer in the truth. “So, you got thrown out of Eagle Hill Manor because of that photo, huh?”

“Yup, more or less. I would say that I threw myself out, but only after my integrity was challenged.”

“Told ya,” Mom said, reaching out to give Willow's shoulder a squeeze. Mom's tone was surprisingly sympathetic.

“Yeah, you did.”

“You okay?”

She shook her head and bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “No. I'm not.”

“Oh, baby girl,” Mom said, and then Willow found herself caught up in her mother's arms, where she proceeded to bawl her eyes out.

It took a good twenty minutes before she'd regained her composure. “Thanks. I needed a good cry. I'm okay now.”

“You really care about him, don't you?”

Willow nodded. “I think I love him. But it's never going to work. You were right, and I should have listened to you. And maybe if it was just me and David, I might fight the old biddy over him. But I have to think about Natalie. Pam precipitated this huge scene tonight, and it really upset Natalie.”

“So you're here because of the little girl? Not be because David asked you to leave?”

Willow nodded. “She doesn't need her grandmothers squabbling about her father's lover.”

“You make it sound very sordid.”

“Because it is.”

Mom shrugged. “Maybe not so much.”

“I thought you told me to stay away from David.”

“I did. But mostly because I thought he'd break your heart. It sounds like his mother broke your will.”

Great. You could never count on Mom to be consistent in her view of the world. “Well,” Willow said, “you can chalk it up to me avoiding the heartbreak before it happens. Isn't that what you said I should do?”

“Oh, I get it now. That totally explains the crying jag. You avoided the heartbreak.”

Willow collapsed back in her chair, letting her shoulders sag. “All right. I'm busted. I left. I wasn't tossed out. But it's the right thing to do. And please don't argue with me, okay?”

“Okay. I won't. And you know you're always welcome here, baby doll.”

But even if she was welcome, Willow had never really fit here at Serenity Farm. She didn't read auras, she wasn't a musician, she hated eggplant, and she only tolerated farm chores. There was a reason she'd been so anxious to leave this place when she was a kid.

But if she didn't fit here, and she didn't fit with David and Natalie, where the hell did she fit?

Early the next morning, David found himself in his office facing Hale Chandler and Heather. At least neither of them was yelling.

Jesus, he'd never seen his mother so angry. She literally despised Willow, but for reasons he didn't fully understand.

Unfortunately, Mother had no concept of the damage she'd done last night. Not just to David's relationship with Willow (if there was one), but to Natalie. His little girl had cried herself to sleep, and this morning she'd regressed back to the needy child she'd been right after Shelly had died.

Poppy was furious with him for not running after Willow. And Willow had left a note and walked away.

In short, his world was in chaos.

“Do you want this seat, David?” Hale Chandler asked.

David had been asked this question many times, and he'd always said yes. And he'd always known that running for Congress would require sacrifices. He was, after all, a senator's son. He knew what campaigns were like.

But up until right this minute, sacrifice had been merely a concept. Now sacrifice had a name: Willow.

He most definitely did not want to give her up.

“Davie?” Heather sat in the second chair, mostly deferring to her boss.

“Of course I want this,” he said. And he meant it. He'd been preparing to run for Congress from the minute he graduated from law school. What else was he good for?

“If you want this,” Hale said in his big, gruff, take-no-prisoners voice, “then you have to do several things.

“First”—he raised one fat finger—“you have to endorse this park project. All our polling on this indicates that it's popular with the constituents of this district.” He raised the rest of his fingers, palm outward in the quintessential “talk to the hand” gesture. “Not one word, David. I know this is a local issue, but all politics is local. You don't want to be an odd man out on something this popular. And second”—up came two fingers in the victory sign—“you have to distance yourself from this woman Willow Petersen. She's poison for you.”

Hale leaned forward and pulled a file out of his attaché case. “Here,” he said. “I've had my investigator put together a file on this woman. The opposition will have a field day with this stuff in her background.”

David had, of course, heard all this before. Hale Chandler didn't yell, however. He delivered his thoughts on the subject with cool rationality.

David picked up the file and threw it at Hale. “Don't ever do that again,” he said through clenched teeth.

Hale scowled at him. “Lose the attitude and stop thinking with your dick.”

“I'm not thinking with my dick, thank you. I may be thinking with my heart, though.”

“Davie, really?” Heather sounded truly concerned.

He nodded his head. “Really.”

“Well, stop,” Hale said. “We want you thinking with your brain and not any other part of your anatomy. Are we clear on that?”

David wanted to punch his consultant in the nose. “No, we're not clear.”

“Davie, please, just—”

He glared at his sister and his consultant. “Look, if you guys don't want to work for me, then fine. But if you do want to work for me, here are the conditions.”

It was his turn to put up a finger. “First, I will not change my position on the park. I intend to continue to represent Dusty McNeil. And if voters in the twelfth district have an issue with me standing up for Dusty and his property rights, then so be it. More important, Dusty is my friend.”

Hale's eyes lit up. “Okay. If you explain it like that, I'll give you the park. But you still have a floozy issue.”

David jumped up. “Don't you ever call her that again, do you understand? Here's the truth about Willow Petersen. She caught Restero doing something wrong and then covering it up. She pointed a finger and blew the whistle. That takes courage, Hale, more courage than it takes you to shove your stupid file in my face.” He leaned forward on his desk.

He had expected Hale to stand up to him, but instead the man smiled. “Most of my clients don't have the balls to stand up to me. I'm impressed. But the woman is still a problem.”

Heather spoke. “Davie, did you know that she was having an affair with Corbin Martinson?”

“I did. So what? I was married once, to her best friend. We're both in our thirties. We've had other relationships. It's not a character issue.”

Hale leaned forward. “Yes, it is. Martinson is well respected. He says she became a stalker when he ended a short-lived affair. Then she lost perspective and made up a scandal just to get back at him personally.”

“And she says something else.”

“Davie, your loyalty is admirable, but I'm worried about you. I'm worried she'll break your heart and leave your career in ruins.”

“And I just want you to win this election,” Hale said in a flat voice. “This is politics, David. If you care about the truth, find another profession.”

“And your solution is to have me walk away from someone I've known for a long time. The godmother of my child? Is that your advice?”

“That's my advice.”

“You aren't even interested in coming up with something to counter the mud Bill Cummins is going to sling?”

“The best counterpunch would be to tell the opposition that you and this woman are not involved.”

“But we are involved.”

“Then get uninvolved.”

“No.”

Hale and Heather both swore under their breath.

“Look, I've known Willow for a long time. She has put herself into hock in order to bring a private legal claim against Restero for knowingly harming Medicare patients. If she wins, they'll have to pay a big fine. If the government joins her suit—and I'm hoping they will—then some of Restero's executives might face criminal charges and jail time. If you take half a minute to really look at this, you'll see she's not a disgruntled employee.”

“Voters don't have half a minute,” Hale said.

They sat in silence for a long time before David spoke again. “Look, if you guys want to bail on this campaign, that's fine. There are plenty of other people I can hire to provide political advice.”

Hale gave him a long, sober look. “David, I like you. I think you'll make a great candidate, precisely because you're standing up for your friends. So I'll make a deal with you. I'll hire that investigator, and we'll see what he turns up on Ms. Petersen and her claims against Restero. But in the meantime, I suggest that you convince Ms. Petersen to give up this lawsuit of hers. If Restero did something wrong, let the government pursue them. That would answer the charges that she's a malcontent and a money-grubber.”

David took in a deep breath. “Okay, I see that point. I'll talk to her about it.”

“Davie, I think it's wonderful that you've finally moved past Shelly, really. And I'm glad that you've taken off the wedding band and seem to be ready to rejoin the human race. But I just want you to think long and hard about his. Is your heart really involved, or is it just sex? Because if it's just a temporary thing with Willow, it would be crazy to give up your career.”

He couldn't answer Heather's question. Except that whatever he felt for Willow went beyond lust. She'd been his friend for a long time. She'd made Natalie laugh again. She'd helped him figure out how to solve the problem at the school. And she'd made Jeff and Melissa so happy.

He cared about her. She'd made him care again. She'd brought him back to the land of the living.

He wasn't going walk away from that.

Poppy, Faye, and Viola sat at a dark corner booth at the Olive Garden restaurant out by the interstate. Poppy had called this emergency meeting after last night's debacle.

“Oh, crap,” Viola said, wringing her hands. “After I saw that photograph in the
Winchester Daily
I thought we were on to phase two of our plan. So I had a little conversation with Bryce Summerville about buying Eagle Hill Manor. He's definitely interested. He told me he was going to call Walter today.”

“You what?” Poppy said in a voice that carried across the dining room. People turned, and Poppy's face heated. She needed to remember Natalie's words last night. Yelling was never appropriate.

Viola continued to wring her hands. “That kiss David laid on Willow was hot. I mean, it verified our theory that she was playing hard to get.”

“Just waiting to be rescued from the city jail,” Faye said on a long, sappy sigh. “That was quite romantic, you know. If he'd rescued me, I would have kissed him too.”

“Of course, but one kiss does not cement a lifelong relationship,” Poppy said, wondering if the kisses she'd recently shared with Walter were an indication of anything other than her own idiocy.

“You mean that's all it was?” Faye asked, her big gray eyes going round above her half-moon glasses.

Poppy took a sip of her not-very-good wine and tried to compose herself. Thinking about Walter always short-circuited her brain. Right now she needed clarity.

“It wasn't just a kiss, was it?” Viola asked.

Poppy steeled herself. She hated to gossip, but this was an emergency. “No, it was much more than a kiss. They spent the night together. I caught him making breakfast for her the next morning.” She neglected to explain exactly how she'd caught him. Nor did she mention the fact that David didn't seem to be suffering any shame for what had transpired the night before last, while Poppy was still trying to come to terms with the fact that a woman her age was capable of having wild and crazy sex.

Viola and Faye sighed in unison.

“Yes.” Poppy nodded. “And he appeared to have enjoyed himself until his family gave him a lecture and then his mother followed it up with a hissy fit in which she dredged up every nasty thing anyone has ever said about Willow and her mother.” Poppy drummed her fingers on the table. She wanted to drive out to Charlotte's Grove and have a catfight with Pam. A little hair pulling might straighten the woman out. But, of course, Natalie wouldn't be well served by any more yelling or screaming or eye gouging no matter how much Pam deserved it. Someone needed to take that woman to the woodshed and beat some sense into her.

“Maybe we should have thought about that,” Faye said. “I mean, with all this controversy over her last job, Willow isn't exactly what I'd call a political wife, you know?”

“I know,” Poppy said. “But my gut tells me that she's the kind of wife David wants. And more important than that, she's the kind of
mother
Natalie needs and deserves. I know for certain that Willow has fallen head over heels in love with Natalie, and the child loves her right back. David, I'm not entirely sure of. I think he desires her, but maybe he's not yet fallen all the way.”