Rachel Van Dyken (12 page)

Blaine carried an arm
load of firewood through the back door and stacked it next to the wood burning stove.
It was even colder than usual that night, so they would nee
d the extra heat from the fire.

It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day.
The unplanned trip to the grave
had given him plenty to think about. It
was more than simply making peace with his father, more than finally coming to terms with his mother’s death – though all of those things –
it was the realization that what he felt for Mara was something much different than he had expected
,
which struck him most. The accompanying vulnerability rested uneasily upon him even in the peace he felt in the reconciliation
with
his father.

Mrs. Smith, the housekeeper had already left for the night, so t
he light footsteps entering the kitchen behind him spurred the butterflies in his stomach
in
to indescribable acrobatics.
Instead of looking up, h
e focused his energy on building the fire, half-hoping she would ta
ke care of her business
and leave before he had to face her
, but
half-hoping she would stay.

When he heard the chair legs scraping against the wood floor, he knew she was there to stay. Blaine crammed a final log into the stove and latched the door
, then he stood
and dusted his hands off. Turning toward Mara, he forced a nonchalant grin.

“That should warm things up a bit.”

She nodded and her eyes studied him. It was unusual for her to be so quiet.

“You okay?” he asked with a measure of tempered concern.

Mara glanced at her hands folded on the table. Blaine sighed. She had something to say. He had a feeling it would do nothing to settle his own erratic emotions. Aside from the ride today, he had avoided being in such close proximity to her for several days. The encounter between them and how easily he had allowed it to happen
had disturbed him deep
into his soul
.

His whole life he had been so careful to maintain control of himself. In one weak moment, he had let go and the result frightened him. It had been so easy with Mara. She affected him in a way no woman ever had.

The long silence didn’t bother Blaine. It
wa
s the way he operated most of the time. Thinking about every action; considering every word. Only in the comfort of the cockpit did he
completely
trust his instincts. In the air they saved him – on the ground, they got him into trouble.

Mara, on the other hand,
rarely
allow
ed
the moss to grow in a conversation. Something was bothering her, something difficult for her to confess.

He lowered himself into the chair across from her, and her green eyes lifted to meet his gaze
. They glistened with denied tears.

“I’m sorry… about today,” she started. “I shouldn’t have intruded. I should have just stayed out of it. I thought… I thought maybe–”

“Don’t,” Blaine interrupted.
H
e reached across the table and took her hands in his. “You couldn’t have known.” The warmth of her touch rushed through him
,
and he remembered what it had been like to hold her
soft body against his. The
sweet fragrance
of
lilac on
her smooth skin
,
the way her body had fit so perfectly in his
arms
–
the memory almost pained him
. Was it only
five
days ago? He dropped his gaze to her hands; it hurt too much to look into her eyes – those bright emeralds
sparkling
with unshed tears.

It
was painful
to look, but it
was absolute torture
not to.
Like a moth drawn to flame, his eyes
drew back to her
s
. The room s
tood still around them, and
silence hung heavily
in the air
.
Blaine realized he was holding his breath and let it out slowly.

“Mara.” He exhaled her name before he knew it was even on his tongue.

Her eyes widened suddenly as if his use of her
first
name had snapped her out of a trance. She
slipp
ed her hands from his grasp and s
hot
to her feet, almost knocking the chair over. “Tea!”
s
he bellowed. R
ush
ing
to the cupboard
, she threw the doors open and began rummaging throu
gh the contents
wildly.

Although the sudden mood change took Blaine by surprise, a strange calm settled through him. The urge inside him brought him to his feet, and he acted before he had time to change his mind.

He stepped behind Mara as she fumbled
through
the cabinet. G
ently g
rasping both of her flailing hands in his own, he
twisted
her around to face him. Her eyes darted appre
hensively between his darkened
gaze and his mouth
.

Slowly he
lifted
his hand to her chin, tilting her face toward him. Then wrapping his other arm around her waist, he pulled her closer.
He leaned toward her in deliberate movement,
steadily
closing the distance between them until her soft lips brushed his. Her sudden
gasp
of breath
spurred him forward and
his mouth possessed hers hungrily, as if she was the source of life itself.

Mara’s once tentative lips
immediately
gave way, fully participating in the
earth-shattering
kiss
. Her once
clenched
hands loosened under his grip
,
then smoothly moved to the back of his neck pulling his body closer to hers. Sighing against his mouth she relaxed in his hold
,
b
ringing Blaine’s thoughts back to the present
.
T
he attraction between them was impossible to deny. His body hummed with desire as he
reluctan
tly
drew
back to look into her eyes.

Beautiful green eyes, widened in shock as black dewy lashes blinked several times back at him. Mara held her lip captive between her teeth
–
in
thought or frustration
,
he wasn’t sure
–
yet
he couldn’t fight the craving
;
he had to taste her again.

“Captain, I –”she began, but he lifted a finger to her lips to quiet her.

“I think,” he whispered
breathlessly
, resting his forehead against hers
,
“
y
ou should
probably
call me Blaine.”

He wanted to hold her like this forever.
Forever.
A foreign concept for someone like Blaine who had lost everyone close to him. Her warmth filtered through him, awakening every part of his being, and his brain struggled to regain control of his senses, which were rapidly descending again into a fog of desire.

“It’s getting late,” she murmured.

He nodded and closed his eyes, willing himself to snap out of it
. “Do you…?” His voice squeaked
, so he cleared his throat
and started again
in a deep tenor
,
“Do you want me to walk you to your room?”

She shook her head
,
still propped
against his forehead. “Probably not such a good idea,” she whispered, then blew a slow
,
quiet breath
through pursed lips
and stepped back, pushing herself away from his chest.

An audible groan escaped his lips as if his body mourned the loss of hers.

Her green eyes were hazy too, mirroring his clouded mind. She smiled at him softly and raised a tender hand to caress his cheek.
“Good night, Cap—um, Blaine.” He closed his eyes momentarily allowing the sound of his name on her lips to seep through him, but when he opened them again, she was gone.

In desperation
,
he
reached for the
stability
of
a
nearby chair, and he crumpled into it. His offer to walk her up the stairs was perfunctory, if not hopeful –
but
at the moment
,
he was certain h
is legs were permanently paralyzed.

The morning of Christmas Eve broke quietly. It had been his mother’s custom to awaken before dawn
and
steal into the kitchen
to
make his father’s favorite breakfast, so when the smell of crackling
maple smoked
bacon drifted into his room, Blaine’
s heart leaped and he wondered if it was a figment of his imagination.

Only a hint of morning light was glowing around the edges of the small window’s curtain. He slowly sat up on the cot and reached for his shirt. The salty aroma of bacon
lay
heavy in the air
;
he drew in a deep appreciative breath. It wasn’t his imagination.

He grabbed his jeans from the sewing chair and pulled them over his long-handles hurriedly. There was no way he was going to spend Christmas Eve lounging in his room. This would be the first good Christmas in years, and he wasn’t going to waste any of it.

****

In spite of her efforts to be as quiet as possible this morning, she heard the door to the sewing room squeak open and knew Blaine was watching her from the doorway. “Good morning, Mara
.
”

The use of her first name set her sense
s
tingling.
Not even Michael had ever had that effect on her – a thought which
briefly flooded her with guilt
. She had loved Michael
, but it was a comfortable love, and she had known him her whole life.

“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“It was the bacon.”

“Your father requested it.
”

“He remembered,” Blaine said. “I didn’t think he would.”

“What’s that?”

“Christmas Eve. My mother always made his favorite breakfast. The smell of it would wake us.”

Mara’s back was still to him, but she smiled wistfully. The relationship between the two men was mending before her eyes. Blaine’s voice didn’t carry the same bitter tone when he spoke of his father. Instead, it was replaced by a nostalgic appreciation for the old days – the days they had been a loving, close family.

“That makes sense now. He said something about ‘Christmas Eve just like it used to be
,
’” she replied.

She felt him move from the doorway and step into place beside her. The heat from his body radiated to her, causing her heart to beat faster. The memory of last night was still vivid in her mind.

“Can I help you with anything?” he offered. He wasn’t avoiding her this time. In fact, his proximity was quite the opposite, and was having a dizzying effect.

“How about making a plate for your father?” Mara suggested, trying to steady her breathing
. “The tray is by the sink.”

He glanced around the kitchen as if in thought. “What if we bring him down here this morning? Do you think it would be too much?”

Still avoiding his gaze, Mara nodded and continued to fidget with the frying bacon, turning it over and over repeatedly. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. It’s been awhile since he’s been downstairs for a meal. It will lift his spirits.”

Blaine slid his hands in his pockets and watched her compulsive turning of the bacon. “I think it would cook faster if you let it sit
a
little longer.”

She cast him a sidelong glance and chuckled. “I suppose it would at that.” So he had noticed her nervousness.

His gaze on her lasted a moment longer. Finally he said, “I’ll go get Pop. The smell of that bacon probably already has him drooling. Are you able to leave the cooking long enough to set up a seat for him?
I don’t want to take you away from all that bacon turning. You are in quite the rhythm.”

Furrowing her brow
,
she raised her spatula and pointed it at him. “You get out of here before I use this thing on you!” Then to show her intent, she took a step toward him, and he darted out of the room laughing. He was
likely
trying to set her at ease. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

A vision of Blaine wrapping her up in his arms flashed in her mind, sending her mind reeling. She opened her eyes instantly.
What is wrong with me? Christian girls don’t think
about
things like that!
The guilt burned on her cheeks.