McIver's Mission (27 page)

And she'd done so. Until now.

Her relationship with Shaun was anything but casual.
Somehow he'd disabled her defenses, gotten closer to her than anyone else ever
had. And what worried her most, she was forced to admit, were her own feelings.
She liked going to sleep beside him every night, waking up with him in the
morning. She liked not being alone.

Was it possible that this could work out? Or was it
only a matter of time until she would be alone again?

* * *

Shaun
was just taking the turkey out of the oven when the doorbell rang. Arden was
mashing the potatoes, so he set the turkey on top of the stove and went to open
the door for their guests.

It was cold outside, especially compared to the heat
in the kitchen, and
Carly's
cheeks were rosy with it.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Uncle Shaun."

"Happy Thanksgiving, yourself," he said.
"Come on in." Nikki came next, kissing his cheek as she passed, and
carrying the pumpkin pie she'd promised to bring. Colin was behind her, a large
cardboard box in his arms.

"Arden's in the kitchen," Shaun told them.
"Just finishing up a few things."

"I found this in the back of the closet in your
old room," Nikki said to Arden, gesturing to the cardboard box in Colin's
arms.

"What is it?" Arden seemed more interested
in the pumpkin pie Nikki was carrying. She took it from her cousin's hands;
Shaun took the box from his brother.

"It's yours," Nikki said. "Mostly old
photo albums. Pictures of you when you were a baby."

Arden's face paled and she turned away quickly to put
the pie on the counter.

It was interesting, Shaun mused wryly, that it wasn't
only a declaration of love that caused such a reaction. He stood holding the
box, uncertain what to do with it in light of Arden's response. She busied
herself at the counter, refused to look at him or the box he held.

"Baby pictures," he teased. "That's
something I'd love to see."

"I don't want them," Arden said.

Nikki frowned. "But there are pictures of your
dad in there. You and your mom and dad."

"Is that—" she swallowed "—is that
all?"

"Yeah."

Arden hesitated a moment longer, eyeing the box
cautiously, then she took it from his hands and dropped it into a corner.

He tried to forget about it: the box and Arden's
reaction to it. It wasn't so hard while Colin and Nikki and
Carly
were there. Conversation over dinner was light and casual. Dinner turned out
well, for a first attempt. The turkey was a little overcooked, the carrots a
little undercooked, the gravy slightly lumpy. But there weren't many leftovers,
so he figured the meal was a success. More gratifying to Shaun was the atmosphere.
The easy camaraderie of family. The presence of the woman he loved.

It was just after seven when Colin rounded up his
family for the trip home. Shaun stood beside Arden at the window to wave
goodbye as the first flakes began to fall, swirling carelessly, unhurriedly, in
the dark sky.

"Look," he said. "It's starting to
snow."

She smiled. "I've always loved the first snow of
the season."

"Let's take a walk," he said impulsively.

"Now?"

"Why not? We need to work off some of that turkey
and pumpkin pie."

"But it's snowing."

"It's romantic," he told her.

"Since when are you such an expert on
romance?" she countered.

"Since you came into my life."

She smiled, almost reluctantly. "Let's go for a
walk."

* * *

It
was a beautiful night. Despite the falling snow, the sky was mostly clear, the
stars sparkling against the dark blanket of the sky like so many diamonds on
velvet. The neighborhood was quiet, the streets empty, and it seemed as if
there was no one in the world except the two of them. It was magic.

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" Arden asked
as they walked hand in hand down the street.

"Wonderful," he agreed.

"The turkey wasn't too overcooked?"

"It was delicious."

"I'm glad we did this," she said. "I
really miss Nikki and Colin and
Carly
sometimes."

"They're so happy together," Shaun
commented. "And now there's another baby on the way."

"They deserve to be happy. They've been through a
lot."

"Do you think happiness is something that has to
be earned?"

"No." She shrugged. "I don't
know."

"Don't you deserve to be happy? Don't we deserve
to be happy?"

"I
am
happy," Arden told him.

"Are you?"

"Yes." And she meant it. Maybe she was
worried about her psycho pen pal, maybe she was afraid her relationship with
Shaun wouldn't—couldn't—last, but right now she was happy. She didn't dare look
any further than that.

"It's been a while since you've got a
letter," Shaun said.

She nodded.

"Maybe he's given up."

"Maybe."

"But you don't think so?"

"I don't know. I want to believe he has, but I
can't help thinking that he's just lulling me into a false sense of
security."

"You're safe here, Arden. I won't let anything
happen to you."

"I know."

They walked to the end of the street, where the
playground equipment stood silent, empty.

"This park has been here forever," Shaun
told her. "Colin and I used to come here as kids, to play on the swings,
climb the jungle gym, throw a baseball around."

"Did you have a happy childhood?"

"For the most part," he agreed. "My mom
was terrific. She spent a lot of time with us."

"What about your dad?"

"He was always too busy to pay much attention to
us. He spent a lot of time at the courthouse, and when he was home, we had to
tiptoe around so as not to disturb him."

"But you were close to him?"

"I respected him," Shaun said. "We were
always told how important he was, and I wanted to grow up to be like him
someday. Until I got older. Then I realized I only wanted to be a lawyer … I
didn't want to be like my father."

"He was a good judge."

"He was a lousy father."

She nodded. "Do you ever wonder if…"

"If what?" Shaun prompted.

"If you could be a good father, despite the
example he set."

"I used to have doubts," he admitted.
"But Colin had the same father I did, and he's adjusted to fatherhood with
little difficulty. I think the only thing that matters is wanting to be a good
parent. If you do, you can make it work."

She nodded.

"Is that what bothers you? Did losing your
parents leave that much of a void in your life?"

She shook her head, feeling a twinge of guilt for not
correcting his misconception about her family. "No. After—when I came to
live with Aunt Tess, it was a big adjustment. But she showed me what a family
should be like. She was so much more of a mother to me than mine ever
was." She rubbed her hands briskly over her arms, wondering why she'd
volunteered that piece of information. "It's getting cold. Let's walk some
more."

He curved his arm around her shoulders. "Can you
still feel your toes?"

"Barely."

"Good."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I did have an ulterior motive in suggesting this
little outing."

"Which was?"

"You're going to need some help warming up when
we get back to the house."

"Hot chocolate and a crackling fire would be
great."

He grinned. "Among other things."

* * *

Arden
was smiling as she followed the scent of fresh coffee down the stairs the
following morning. There were definite advantages to this living arrangement,
and having her morning coffee made for her was the least of them.

Her smile faded when she caught a glimpse of Shaun in
the dining room. She stopped in the doorway, her quest for caffeine forgotten.
The box Nikki and Colin had delivered the previous day was on the table, the
top opened. Shaun held a framed photograph in his hands.

"What are you doing?"

He glanced up at her, the quick flash of guilt
replaced by an easy smile. "I'm unpacking this for you."

"I don't want it unpacked."

"Why not?"

"I just don't."

He wiped the dust off the glass with his fingers.
"This must be your mom," Shaun said. "She looks like she could
be your twin."

"Yeah." Arden took the picture from him,
shoved it back into the box. The resemblance between her and her mother thirty
years ago was uncanny and disconcerting. She couldn't help but think that a
resemblance so strong, so deep, was indicative of other similarities. The last
thing she'd ever wanted was to be like her mother.

"She was beautiful."

Arden ignored the comment and folded the flaps on the
top of the box.

"Is this your dad?" Shaun asked, holding
another frame he'd set aside.

Arden sighed, wishing he would just leave it alone.
But obviously Shaun had other ideas. She glanced at the picture in his hands,
at the handsome couple all smiles and joy. The man was tall and dark-haired and
holding a baby in his arms. The slender woman beside him was a mirror image of
herself, her hand over her husband's, on top of the baby's tummy.

"Yes, that's my father," she told him. She
hated that her memories of him were so faded. That the memories of everything
that happened after his death were so painfully clear.

"How old were you when he died?"

"Five."

"That must have been hard on you."

She shrugged and moved away, not wanting to dig any
deeper into the painful memories. "It's never easy to lose someone you
love."

He nodded, and she knew he was thinking about his own
parents. "No, it's not," he agreed. Then, "They looked happy
together."

"Can we please not do this right now?"

"I didn't mean to upset you by bringing it
up," he said.

She shrugged off his concern. "I just don't like
talking about them."

"But they're your family, Arden."

"I don't have any family anymore." It was
better that way.

"Who's this?" he asked, holding up a small
unframed photo that was crinkled around the edges.

She couldn't see the picture from where she was
standing, but she didn't need to look at it to know that the edges were bent
from years spent tucked in her pocket, the photo smudged by young fingers
tracing the smiling faces. And she was helpless to prevent the tears that
filled her eyes, stunned that the grief could come back so sharp, so strong,
after so many years.

She blinked away the tears, cleared her throat.
"That's me."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that," he said.
"Who's the little girl with you?"

"My sister."

Chapter
16

«
^
»

S
haun
felt his mouth drop open, snapped it shut again. "Your … sister?"

Arden nodded and took the picture from his hand. He
could see the sheen of tears in her eyes as she lovingly traced the smiling
face of the younger child, could feel the heartache she carried inside her.

"Her name's
Rheanne
,"
she told him. A single tear trembled for a moment on the edge of her lashes
before slipping slowly down the curve of her cheek.

She set the picture on the table and turned toward the
kitchen. Her hands weren't quite steady, he noted, as she took a mug from the
cupboard and filled it from the carafe. He suspected that she wanted something
to do more than she wanted the coffee.

She came back into the dining room and sat down at the
table, her hands cradled around the mug. "The last time I saw her, she
wasn't even two years old."

The questions swirled through Shaun's mind, but he
waited silently for her to continue.

"My mother remarried less than a year after my
father died, then we moved with her new husband to North Carolina, then Oregon,
then Arizona. As far as I know, she's still in Arizona."

Shaun frowned, wondering why Arden had grown up with
Nikki's family in
Fairweather
if her mother was in
Arizona, and why Arden never talked about her mother.

"Everything was okay at first," Arden
continued. "After my mom and Gavin got married. At least, I think it was.
I don't remember that much of the first couple of years. And then my mom got pregnant,
and they started to argue. A lot. I don't know what they fought about. I only
remember that they always seemed to be fighting.