Holiday Homecoming (9 page)

When they finished, Connor talked Natalie into getting something to eat before they returned to the ER waiting room.

“Pretty.” Natalie stood by the window. “I love the way fresh snow makes everything look so clean and sparkly.”

Connor stood behind her. He'd been thinking the same, but not about the snow.

“Natalie.” Andie stood in the doorway.

Natalie brushed by him, breaking the tenuous connection between them, and rushed to her sister.

“I can go home,” Andie said, followed by something else in a low voice he couldn't hear.

Natalie nodded. “I'll get my coat.”

Connor lifted her jacket from the chair next to him and walked over. He held it for her.

“Thanks.” She slipped her arms in and pulled it on. “We better get going before we get snowed in here.”

Andie looked past them to the window. “I didn't know it was snowing. Connor, will you drive?”

“I could.” He glanced at Natalie. She dropped her gaze to the floor and tapped her foot.

“It's not that you're a bad driver, Natalie. But I'm not used to riding with you,” Andie said.

Andie wasn't used to riding with him, either. Connor zipped his coat, waiting for some confirmation from Natalie.

Her foot tapping stopped. “That's a good idea, if Connor doesn't mind.”

“It's fine.” He certainly wasn't going to tell her that he'd feel better if he was driving, too. But maybe she'd remembered that he wasn't a comfortable passenger. When they'd been together, he'd insisted on driving so often she'd teased him that she had her own personal chauffer.

Natalie handed him the keys, and he walked ahead to open the door for them. When they reached the car, he popped the trunk to get the scraper to clear the snow off the car and let Andie in the backseat. He reached for the front door handle.

“Natalie, sit with me so we can talk,” Andie said.

“Okay, but why don't I start the car so it can warm up while Connor cleans the snow off.” Natalie pushed the door closed and walked with him around the front of the car. “Do you mind my sitting in the back with Andie? Since she wants me, I'd like to be there for her.”

“No, it's fine.”

“Thanks.” Natalie pulled her wool cap down farther over her ears against the blustering wind and leaned against the car fender.

How could he mind? He knew how much Natalie wanted Andie and her to get along. She always had. Maybe this was the start of their mending. He handed her back the keys to start the car and lifted the windshield wipers so he could brush off the snow.

Natalie tilted her head and smiled at him. “Has anyone told you lately what a nice guy you are?” She ducked in the car before he could answer.

He attacked the thick layer of ice that had formed on the windshield with a vengeance so he had an excuse for the warmth that filled him and didn't have to acknowledge to himself that it had a lot more to do with Natalie's smile and words than the energy he was exerting.

Chapter Eight

N
atalie clutched the car's armrest with an iron grip, resting her left arm on her lap to block Connor's view. He wasn't the only one who was more comfortable with him doing the driving today. But as much as she normally liked to be the person behind the wheel, she'd always deferred to Connor. She'd sensed the younger Connor had a need to grab control of whatever he could because so many parts of his life seemed out of anyone's control.

She filled her lungs and breathed out slowly. It was a toss-up what was worse: the view she'd had of Connor's rigid shoulders from the backseat as he'd driven through the storm to Andie and Rob's house, or the full view of the blinding snow she had now from the from the front seat as he maneuvered from her sister's house to the parsonage.

“Thinking about Andie?” Connor asked. “I'll give Rob a call tomorrow. Feel him out about the situation and what he thinks he could do.”

“That's a good idea. You know Rob isn't big on talking. But he's had to have noticed Andie isn't herself. It might be a relief for him to have you take the first step.”

Connor corrected his steering as the car went into a slight skid. “Sometimes it's part of my job to be interfering.”

“Like your parishioners.” A smile spread across Natalie's face, as she remembered the twins trapping them in the parsonage attic.

“I tend to be more compassionate and less obvious. Or, at least I try to. They're well-meaning for the most part.”

“Slow down.” Natalie grabbed his arm and then thought better. He'd need both hands to control the car. “There's a red flasher.”

“Yes, Natalie, I see it,” he said in controlled syllables. “I'm only going twenty-five.”

“Sorry. I'm a little wound-up.”

He patted her knee, and she tensed because he'd taken his hand off the wheel. He slowed to a stop at the intersection of the state highway the parsonage was located on. A fire department vehicle, lights flashing, blocked the turn onto that road. A well-bundled figure with a Schroon Lake Volunteer Fire Department reflective vest walked over to Connor's side of the car. Connor rolled the window half-down, and snow blew in hard enough to sting her cheek on the other side of the car.

“Hey, Connor,” Josh said over the collar of his coat, which was rolled up to protect his face. He looked across the seat.

Josh was a volunteer firefighter?
Natalie resisted the urge to slouch down and pull her scarf up to hide her face. She straightened. Interfering parishioners aside, there was no reason Josh shouldn't see her with Connor.

“Natalie,” Josh said.

She fidgeted. She could almost see the slow, inviting smile, which was strikingly similar to his brothers', spreading across Josh's face behind his collar.

Connor waved his hand in front of his brother's face, a muscle working in his jaw.

His territorial attitude made her stomach do a little flip-flop that had nothing to do with the hospital coffee she'd had or her frazzled nerves.

“Ken Healy lost it on the curve and overturned his fuel-oil truck almost in front of the church.”

“Anyone hurt?” Connor asked.

“Not badly. No one was coming from the other direction. The emergency squad took Ken up to the hospital in Saranac Lake to be checked out. He said he was fine, got out and was walking around when we got here.”

“I'll call the hospital and check on him when I get home.”

“You're not getting home anytime soon, unless you're walking. The truck is across both lanes. And, if the truck's leaking oil, we may be evacuating the Hazardtown area anyway.” Josh dug in his pocket. “I'll give you the key to my apartment. You can drop Natalie off and stay with me.” He pushed his key ring through the window toward Connor. “It's the...” Josh stopped and ran his gaze over the car as if just realizing it wasn't Connor's. “Or maybe you have a better offer?”

Connor pursed his lips.

Was he annoyed by Josh's offer or his comment?

“Mom and Dad's house is closer,” Natalie said. “I'm sure they wouldn't mind putting you up for a night. There's no sense in doing any extra driving.” No matter how awkward his staying might be after her mother's fix-up attempt the other night, she owed him. Connor had certainly run interference for her with her family enough times lately.

“Yeah, sure. That's a better idea.” Josh closed his fist around his keys and shoved them back in his coat pocket. “You don't want to be driving back to your folks' from my place in this.” Josh gestured at the snow.

“Keep warm,” Natalie said as Connor rolled the window up.

“Thanks,” Connor said. “Your parents won't mind me staying?” He turned the car around and headed back in the other direction.

“My parents? Do you even have to ask?”

“True. This is different, but I'll never be able to thank them enough for all the times in high school they gave me someplace to go to when my dad was on a drunken rampage and Mom was working nights.”

She touched his arm, filled with compassion for Connor. As an adult, she could see Connor's home situation a lot clearer than she did as a teen.

“As much as Josh has been irritating me lately, he did protect me from Dad as best he could.” He cleared his throat. “Then he got called up with his National Guard unit to go to Afghanistan and was wounded.”

“Yeah, I was afraid you were going to give up your scholarship to Houghton because you didn't want to leave your mom alone. Just when we had everything planned out the way I wanted it. Pretty selfish of me.”

He placed his hand over hers. “I can see now that it was better for Mom to leave and go live with my aunt.”

“Things look different at twenty-seven than they do at seventeen,” Natalie said, thinking as much about Connor and her as she was about Connor and his family.

He stared straight ahead. “Once Josh got home from the army hospital, we never got back the closeness we had as kids.”

Natalie slumped in the seat, struggling to breathe past the weight on her chest. She'd done the same thing to her family and more so to Connor. Pushed them away. It wasn't that her family was making her an outsider. She was the one who'd gone away and cut the ties. The call from her agent replayed in her mind. And she was poised to do it again.

The car skidded into the oncoming lane, and she bumped up against the hard wall of Connor's shoulder. In one fluid motion, he brought the car back into their lane.

Strong, solid, dependable Connor. He was always there for her. Her heart ached. As much as she yearned to rebuild what they'd had and more, she couldn't see any way to do it.

* * *

Connor sat alone on the couch in the room off the Delacroix's TV room. After Natalie's mother had welcomed him with open arms for the night, she'd sat Natalie and him down at the table for the remainder of the boisterous family dinner. Afterward, he'd needed a break from the constant conversation. He'd grown too used to living alone. When Natalie and her siblings declined his offer to help them with the dishes and her parents moved to the living room to watch the news, he wandered out to the front room off the living room.

Like the rest of the house and its residents, this room hadn't changed much since he'd last been in it. Originally the house's formal parlor, it still had its high ceiling and exposed beams, making it a perfect spot for the family's Christmas tree. He sank into the soft cushions of the overstuffed couch and let the blinking lights of the tree and the blazing fire in the woodstove lull him almost to sleep.

“Mom said I'd find you here.”

He blinked wide awake as Natalie walked to the couch and sat next to him.

“It's so peaceful in here,” she said. “I see why Mom has always come in here to read, rather than staying in the living room with everyone else. The quiet and privacy.”

She leaned her head back on the cushion behind her, and he flirted with the idea of letting his arm drop from the back of the couch to her shoulder. It seemed so natural.

“There's always someone around,” she said.

He whipped his gaze to the doorway and like a teen caught kissing on the front porch, he backed off by casually stretching and resting his arm back on the couch behind Natalie.

“I miss the solitude of my own place.”

“I was thinking almost the same thing before you came in, that I've gotten used to having my evenings to myself.”

“Want me to leave?” she asked, straightening.

“No,” he said quickly. “I'm not sure being alone so much is a good thing.”

“Nor something the church ladies are likely to encourage.”

He laughed, throwing off the momentary feeling of abandonment that the thought of Natalie leaving had stirred in him. “You don't think this is another setup, do you, leaving us in here alone?”

“Even if it is, I say let's enjoy it while we can. Claire and Paul were talking about getting a game of Dominion going.”

Connor inched his arm back toward her shoulder. He was enjoying it already. The warm glow of the fire, the twinkling of the tree lights and Natalie's nearness wrapping him in a blanket of belonging. His cell phone chimed, making them both start. He shifted to grab it out of his pocket, and Natalie moved away as if she had realized just how close they were sitting.

He frowned as he read the text from Josh.
You're doing me proud, baby bro. When you said double date, I didn't know you meant two dates with different women.
He clicked off the screen.

“Bad news?” Natalie asked. “Or something you can't talk about?”

“It was Josh.”

“About the accident?”

“No, Josh being Josh.”

“Ah, enough said.”

Connor settled back on the couch, appreciative of Natalie's understanding without him having to say any more. His hip caught the corner of the other overstuffed couch cushion, tilting Natalie his way. As if beyond his control, he slipped his arm down the back cushion until it rested around her shoulder. A sense of well-being filled him as they sat in silence looking at the Christmas tree. He could sit like this forever.

“Your tree at the parsonage must be pretty, too.”

“I guess.” He didn't tell her he hadn't turned the lights on or even looked at it.

She folded her hands in her lap and rubbed her thumbs together. “Did Hope insist on putting the star on top? I'm sorry about that.”

“No. What did Hope have to do with the Christmas star?”

Natalie stared at her thumbs. “The star was in the box she brought down from the attic with you. She wanted to put it on the tree, and I tried to discourage her by saying it was old and that you and she could go shopping for a new one. That's what upset her last Sunday afternoon.”

“Then you didn't throw it in my trash in the garage.”

She lifted her head, looked at him. “I couldn't throw it out. I packed it away.” She paused as if waiting for a reaction from him.

He set his jaw so she wouldn't see him struggle to control his emotions. “How did it get here?”

Her gaze flitted away and back. “Like I said, I couldn't throw it away. I found it when I was cleaning out my apartment in Syracuse to move to Chicago. I brought it back to Mom and Dad's with my other college stuff before I left. Later, I told Mom to give anything of value in those boxes to someone who could use them and to throw the rest out.”

She couldn't throw it away, but she could give it away. He didn't know what he'd expected her to say or why her explanation bothered him so much.

“Mom gave it to the Bargain Shed. I can only guess that the former pastor or his wife must have picked it up.”

“Could be. Jared and Becca didn't use it last year. They must not have seen it in the attic. It was kind of hidden among some other boxes.” Connor spent a moment mulling whether finding the star was God directing him or his own wishful thinking. “What did Hope say?”

Natalie sank back into the cushion, and he tightened his embrace. “She said the star was beautiful like the one she and her grandmother had and that you were going to love it. Her words broke my heart, but I couldn't let the church women put the star on the tree. Not without letting you know first.”

His insides melted. Natalie had guessed his feelings about the star, even though he hadn't said anything about them. “It's getting better, but we never know what might set Hope off.”

Natalie leaned her head on his shoulder. “I am sorry. Do you think she put the star in the trash?”

“I do now,” he said into her hair, breathing in its lightly floral scent. “I'll talk with her.”

“Tell her I'm sorry I upset her.”

“I will.” He closed his eyes and absorbed their momentary closeness.

“Here you are.” Claire burst in the room. “We've decided to watch the country-music Christmas special. Want to join us?”

Connor lifted his head and immediately missed the warmth of the contact with Natalie. “Maybe in a minute. I want to get Natalie's take on something I'm thinking about doing.”

Claire lifted an eyebrow and grinned. She was as bad as Josh.

“Like Connor said, we'll be in in a minute.” Natalie's irritation was evident to him, if not to her sister, who took her time sauntering out.

Once Claire had left, Natalie looked up at him expectantly.

He folded and unfolded his arms. “Have you heard back from your agent about the job in Chicago?”

“No, he said the station would call me directly. Why?”

Connor rubbed his palms down the front of his jeans. “I kind of have a job offer in suburban Chicago.”

Her eyes lit, sparking his heart. Then they dimmed, extinguishing the flame before it could flare. He plunged ahead, uncertain about what her reaction meant. “A friend of mine from seminary has a church there. He was a couple years ahead of me and kind of a mentor.” Connor bit the side of his mouth to stop rambling. He was making a bigger deal out of this than it was. “He's looking for an assistant pastor, primarily a youth pastor. At school, I wrote a paper outlining a program idea I have for ministering to older youth and young adults to get them more active in their local churches. A lot of college students seem to take a hiatus from church participation until they marry and have kids old enough for Sunday school.” He was rambling again.