Home for the Holidays (13 page)

Actually it took him twelve. By then Cait had brewed a pot of coffee and made herself a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. She hadn't eaten all day and was starved. She'd just finished the sandwich when Joe arrived.

“What about your luggage?” Joe asked, looking concerned. He didn't give her a chance to respond. “Exactly what do you mean, you gave your seat away?”

Cait explained as best she could. Even now she found herself surprised by her actions. Cait rarely behaved spontaneously. But something about that young soldier had reached deep within her heart and she'd reacted instinctively.

“The airline is sending my suitcase back to Seattle on the next available flight, so there's no need to worry,” Cait said. “I talked to Martin, who was quick to tell me the Lord would reward my generosity.”

“Are you going to catch a later flight, then?” Joe asked. He helped himself to a cup of coffee and pulled out the chair across from hers.

“There aren't any seats,” Cait said. She leaned back, yawning, and covered her mouth. Why she should be so tired after sleeping away most of the afternoon was beyond her. “Besides, the office is short-staffed. Lindy gave Paul her notice and a trainee is coming in, which makes everything even more difficult. They can use me.”

Joe frowned. “Giving up your vacation is one way to impress Paul.”

Words of explanation crowded her tongue. She realized Joe wasn't insulting her; he was only stating a fact. What he didn't understand was that Cait hadn't thought of Paul once the entire day. Her staying or leaving had absolutely nothing to do with him.

If she'd been thinking of anyone, it was Joe. She knew now that giving up her seat to the marine hadn't been entirely unselfish. When Joe kissed her goodbye, her heart had started telegraphing messages she had yet to fully decode. The plain and honest truth was that she hadn't wanted to leave him. It was as if she really did belong with him….

That perception had been with her from the moment they'd parted at the airport. It had followed her in the taxi on the ride back to the apartment. Joe was the last person she'd thought of when she'd fallen asleep, and the first person she'd remembered when she awoke.

It was the most unbelievable thing.

“What are you going to do for Christmas?” Joe asked, still frowning into his coffee cup. For someone who'd seemed downright regretful that she was flying halfway across the country, he didn't seem all that pleased to be sharing her company now.

“I…haven't decided yet. I suppose I'll spend a quiet day by myself.” She'd wake up late, indulge in a lazy scented
bath, find something sinful for breakfast. Ice cream, maybe. Then she'd paint her toenails and settle down with a good book. The day would be lonely, true, but certainly not wasted.

“It'll be anything but quiet,” Joe challenged.

“Oh?”

“You'll be spending it with me and my family.”

 

“This is the first time Joe has ever brought a girl to join us for Christmas,” Virginia Rockwell said as she set a large tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the center of the huge kitchen table. She wiped her hands clean on the apron that was secured around her thick waist.

Cait felt she should explain. She was a little uncomfortable arriving unannounced with Joe like this. “Joe and I are just friends.”

Mrs. Rockwell shook her head, which set the white curls bobbing. “I saw my son's eyes when he brought you into the house.” She grinned knowingly. “I remember you from the old neighborhood, with your starched dresses and the pigtails with those bright pink ribbons. You were a pretty girl then and you're even prettier now.”

“The starched dresses were me, all right,” Cait confirmed. She'd been the only girl for blocks around who always wore dresses to school.

Joe's mother chuckled again. “I remember the sensation you caused in the neighborhood when you said Joe had kissed you.” She chuckled, her eyes shining. “His father and I got quite a kick out of that. I still remember how furious Joe was when he learned his secret was out.”

“I only told one person,” Cait protested. But Betsy had told plenty of others, and the news had spread with alarm
ing speed. However, Cait figured she'd since paid for her sins tenfold. Joe had made sure of that in the past few weeks.

“It's so good to see you again, Caitlin. When we've got a minute I want you to sit down and tell me all about your mother. We lost contact years ago, but I always thought she was a darling.”

“I think so, too,” Cait agreed, carrying a platter of scrambled eggs to the table. She did miss being with her family, but Joe's mother made it almost as good as being home. “I know that's how Mom feels about you, too. She'll want to thank you for being kind enough to invite me into your home for Christmas.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“I know.” She glanced into the other room where Joe was sitting with his brother and sister-in-law. Her heart throbbed at the sight of him with his family. But these newfound feelings for Joe left her at a complete loss. What she'd told Mrs. Rockwell was true. Joe was her friend. The very best friend she'd ever had. She was grateful for everything he'd done for her since they'd chanced upon each other, just weeks ago, really. But their friendship was developing into something much stronger. If only she didn't feel so…so ardent about Paul. If only she didn't feel so confused!

Joe laughed at something one of his nephews said and Cait couldn't help smiling. She loved the sound of his laughter. It was vigorous and robust and lively—just like his personality.

“Joe says you're working as a stockbroker right here in Seattle.”

“Yes. I've been with Webster, Rodale and Missen for over a year now. My degree was in accounting but—”

“Accounting?” Mrs. Rockwell nodded approvingly. “My Joe has his own accountant now. Good thing, too. His books were in a terrible mess. He's a builder, not a pencil pusher, that boy.”

“Are you telling tales on me, Mom?” Joe asked as he sauntered into the kitchen. He picked up a piece of bacon and bit off the end. “When are we going to open the gifts? The kids are getting restless.”

“The kids, nothing. You're the one who's eager to tear into those packages,” his mother admonished. “We'll open them after breakfast, the way we do every Christmas.”

Joe winked at Cait and disappeared into the living room once more.

Mrs. Rockwell watched her son affectionately. “Last year he shows up on my doorstep bright and early Christmas morning needing gift wrap. Then, once he's got all his presents wrapped, he walks into my kitchen—” her face crinkled in a wide grin “—and he sticks all those presents in my refrigerator.” She smiled at the memory. “For his brother, he bought two canned hams and three gallons of ice cream. For me it was cat food and a couple of rib roasts.”

Breakfast was a bustling affair, with Joe's younger brother, his wife and their children gathered around the table. Joe sat next to Cait and held her hand while his mother offered the blessing. Although she wasn't home with her own family, Cait felt she had a good deal for which to be thankful.

Conversation was pleasant and relaxed, but foremost on the children's minds was opening the gifts. The table was cleared and plates and bowls arranged inside the dishwasher in record time.

Cait sat beside Joe, holding a cup of coffee, as the oldest grandchild handed out the presents. While Christmas music played softly in the background, the children tore into their packages. The youngest, a two-year-old girl, was more interested in the box than in the gift itself.

When Joe came to the square package Cait had given him, he shook it enthusiastically.

“Be careful, it might break,” she warned, knowing there was no chance of that happening.

Carefully he removed the bows, then unwrapped his gift. Cait watched expectantly as he lifted the book from the layers of bright paper. “A book on baseball?”

Cait nodded, smiling. “As I recall, you used to collect baseball cards.”

“I ended up trading away my two favorites.”

“I'm sure it was for a very good reason.”

“Of course.”

Their eyes held until it became apparent that everyone in the room was watching them. Cait glanced self-consciously away.

Joe cleared his throat. “This is a great gift, Cait. Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome very much.”

He leaned over and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt right, their kiss. If anything, Cait was sorry to stop at one.

“Surely you have something for Cait,” Virginia Rockwell prompted her son.

“You bet I do.”

“He's probably keeping it in the refrigerator,” Cait suggested, to the delight of Joe's family.

“Oh, ye of little faith,” he said, removing a box from his shirt pocket.

“I recognize that paper,” Sally, Joe's sister-in-law, murmured to Cait. “It's from Stanley's.”

Cait's eyes widened at the name of an expensive local jewelry store. “Joe?”

“Go ahead and open it,” he urged.

Cait did, hands fumbling in her eagerness. She slipped off the ribbon and peeled away the gold textured wrap to reveal a white jeweler's box. It contained a second box, a small black velvet one, which she opened very slowly. She gasped at the lovely cameo brooch inside.

“Oh, Joe,” she whispered. It was a lovely piece carved in onyx and overlaid with ivory. She'd longed for a cameo, a really nice one, for years and wondered how Joe could possibly have known.

“You gonna kiss Uncle Joe?” his nephew, Charlie, asked, “'cause if you are, I'm not looking.”

“Of course she's going to kiss me,” Joe answered for her. “Only she can do it later when there aren't so many curious people around.” He glanced swiftly at his mother. “Just the way Mom used to thank Dad for her Christmas gift. Isn't that right, Mom?”

“I'm sure Cait…will,” Virginia answered, clearly flustered. She patted her hand against the side of her head as though she feared the pins had fallen from her hair, her eyes downcast.

Cait didn't blame the older woman for being embarrassed, but one look at the cameo and she was willing to forgive Joe anything.

The day flew past. After the gifts were opened—with everyone exclaiming in surprised delight over the gifts Joe
had bought, with Cait's help—the family gathered around the piano. Mrs. Rockwell played as they sang a variety of Christmas carols, their voices loud and cheerful. Joe's father had died several years earlier, but he was mentioned often throughout the day, with affection and love. Cait hadn't known him well, but the family obviously felt Andrew Rockwell's presence far more than his absence on this festive day.

Joe drove Cait back to her apartment late that night. Mrs. Rockwell had insisted on sending a plate of cookies home with her, and Cait swore it was enough goodies to last her a month of Sundays. Now she felt sleepy and warm; leaning her head against the seat, she closed her eyes.

“We're here,” Joe whispered close to her ear.

Reluctantly Cait opened her eyes and sighed. “I had such a wonderful day. Thank you, Joe.” She couldn't quite stifle a yawn as she reached for the door handle, thinking longingly of bed.

“That's it?” He sounded disappointed.

“What do you mean, that's it?”

“I seem to remember a certain promise you made this morning.”

Cait frowned, not sure she understood what he meant. “When?”

“When we were opening the gifts,” he reminded her.

“Oh,” Cait said, straightening. “You mean when I opened your gift to me and saw the brooch.”

Joe nodded with exaggerated emphasis. “Right.
Now
do you remember?”

“Of course.” The kiss. He planned to claim the kiss she'd promised him. She brushed her mouth quickly over his and grinned. “There.”

“If that's the best you can do, you should've kissed me in front of Charlie.”

“You're faulting my kissing ability?”

“Charlie's dog gives better kisses than that.”

Cait felt more than a little insulted. “Is this a challenge, Joseph Rockwell?”

“Yes,” he returned archly. “You're darn right it is.”

“All right, then you're on.” She set the plate of cookies aside, slid closer and slipped her arms around Joe's neck. Next she wove her fingers into his thick hair.

“This is more like it,” Joe murmured contentedly.

Cait paused. She wasn't sure why. Perhaps because she'd suddenly lost all interest in making fun out of something that had always been so wonderful between them.

Joe's eyes met hers, and the laughter and fun in them seemed to disappear. Slowly he expelled his breath and brushed his lips along her jaw. The warmth of his breath was exciting as his mouth skimmed toward her temple. His arms closed around her waist and he pulled her tight against him.