Take Me Home for Christmas (24 page)

He stood up, shoved his hands in his pockets and began to pace. “I still don’t understand why you didn’t get away from him.”

“It was complicated.”

“How?”

“Because I felt like I deserved it.”

“For marrying him in the first place?”

“For everything I’d ever done wrong.” She struggled to articulate because she knew she was slurring her words. “Causing Scott Harris to get into that—” she winced “—that crash when we were in high school. Acting so spoiled and selfish all the time. Disappointing you by...by getting with Skip.”

“So you were letting him punish you.”

“Not only that, I
couldn’t
leave. I was afraid that if he ever got...got hold of me, I wouldn’t survive it. He said that if I told anyone or tried to leave him, I could kiss Alexa goodbye.” Just the thought of losing Alexa made her so sad, tears trickled down her cheeks. “So even if I did get away, I’d lose my daughter.”

When Ted swore under his breath, she rested an arm over her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at him. She couldn’t tell if he was angry with her for not getting away, or for turning to alcohol. Or if he was angry with Skip. “At least he was gone most of the time.”

She’d already started to drift off when Ted spoke. “I brought you some turkey and other leftovers from dinner. Any chance I can talk you into eating?”

“Not right now, but thanks. I had cereal.” She lifted her arm to peer up at him. “Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?”

He hesitated.

“Did something go wrong?” she asked.

“No, it was fine.”

“And Eve? Did she like it?”

“I think so.”

“She’s a nice person. She knew about my drinking when you asked her that night in the Jacuzzi, but she didn’t tell you. I’ll always be grateful to her for that. She’s someone special. You’re lucky to have her.”

Pivoting, he came back toward her. “Since she’s so much better than you, you mean?”

Squinting, she struggled to bring him into focus. “Well, she does have her life in order while mine’s a complete mess, so...” She giggled, which wasn’t appropriate. On some level she knew that, so she forced herself to stop and when he didn’t respond, she rolled over onto her side. “Are you sorry you hired me?”

“No,” he said. “I’m not sorry.”

“Someone else would’ve been less hassle—and wouldn’t have passed out in your wine cellar.”

“Someone else wouldn’t have been facing your challenges. I know you’re doing the best you can, that you’re trying.”

“I’ll try again tomorrow,” she promised, and this somehow evoked a smile from him.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Did your mom like the pumpkin dessert?”

He cleared his throat. “You asked me that.”

She blinked at him, trying to remember his answer. “Did you tell me?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “In case I didn’t, she loved it. Ate two pieces.”

That made her happy. It was the first thing today that had. “I’m glad,” she said. “That’s nice. I was thinking I’d take a piece to my mom, but...you know what happened to the car.”

“I know.”

“Principal Dixon really ate
two
pieces?”

“Go to sleep,” he told her and, she couldn’t be sure—maybe she just imagined it—but she thought he bent and kissed her forehead.

26

“W
hy didn’t you tell me she has a drinking problem?” Ted asked.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Eve answered. “How’d you find out?”

“How do you think? She was here alone all day, on Thanksgiving. Her car was just repossessed and she was trying to cope with her psychotic mother. That doesn’t sound like a recipe for disaster to you?”

“Oh, no. I hope she’s okay....”

He remembered the moment he’d found her lying on the floor. He’d felt such a jolt of panic when he thought she might be injured—or worse. Suicide had crossed his mind, which was why he hadn’t been all that upset when he’d realized it was only alcohol. “She’s fine. She’s sleeping it off. But...I wish I’d known so I could’ve been more prepared.”

“And how would you have prepared?”

“By locking the wine cellar so it wouldn’t turn out to be a booby trap for her!”

“Ted, if she wanted to drink badly enough, she would’ve found a way to get some booze.”

“Without a car? I live five miles out of town. She would’ve had to want it pretty badly.”

“What else did she have to do today? You said she was home alone. She could’ve walked that far.” The tenor of her voice changed. “She might not have made it back, depending on whether she drank on the way home, but...”

He didn’t care to imagine it. At least she was safe. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“There were a lot of reasons I didn’t tell you.”

“Like...”

“I’d promised her I wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t feel it would be fair to break that confidence just because you and I started seeing each other.”

He remembered Alexa’s reaction not too long ago when he’d gone down to the kitchen for a glass of wine—and finally understood it. “We’re not talking about spreading random gossip. She’s my housekeeper! You don’t think I had a right to know that my wine cellar might cause her some serious problems?”

“Last I heard, alcohol addiction isn’t something people are required to reveal on a job application. I figured it didn’t matter as long as it wasn’t affecting her work. She’s had it hard enough since Skip died without me going around blabbing about her personal problems—especially to her employer who didn’t really want to hire her in the first place. From what she told me, alcohol was her only escape. Skip controlled
every
aspect of her life, wouldn’t even let her have a job. So I wasn’t feeling particularly judgmental. And you can be a very exacting person.”

He sat up. “What’s that supposed to mean?
I’m
judgmental?”

“You’re capable of so much, and you expect others to live up to your standards.”

“I don’t understand what Sophia’s addiction has to do with that.”

“Besides the job issue, and whether or not you’d be willing to hire her, I thought that learning she was an alcoholic might change the way you look at her—and at me. I didn’t want that to be the deciding factor in our relationship, didn’t want you to choose me over her just because I’ve never been to rehab. I hoped you’d fall head over heels in love with me just like you once did with her. We all know how you used to feel about her, Ted. How much she meant to you and how long it took you to get over her. If you were going to date me, I wanted it to be because of who
I
am instead of what
she
isn’t. Does that make sense?”

“Not entirely,” he grumbled, but it did. He was just hesitant to acknowledge the legitimacy of her concerns. He wasn’t sure that, in the past four weeks, he’d been able to come very close to the target she’d painted for him.

Was
he falling in love with her? It didn’t feel like it. He kept telling himself that he had to give their relationship more time, try harder, be more dedicated, stop thinking of Sophia. But he couldn’t order his heart to love one person instead of another. Despite the hurt she’d caused him, it was still Sophia who took his breath away.

“When it comes to me, to us, I don’t want you to rely on some...checklist that has more to do with your head than your heart,” Eve explained. “No girl wants to be a consolation prize.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” he told her, but he feared her expectations were set too high. If she hoped to own his heart the way Sophia once had—he couldn’t deliver that.

“You
appreciate
it?” she said. “That’s your response?”

She’d given him an opportunity to reassure her, and he’d blown it. They’d been sleeping together for a month. He could see how, after that much time, she might be curious as to where he stood on the relationship. But how could he convince her they were heading toward marriage when he felt no closer to it today than the morning after they’d first made love? Just a few minutes ago, it had been all he could do not to carry
Sophia
to his bed. If she hadn’t been drunk, there was even a chance he might have succumbed.... “I care about you—”

“You cared about me a month ago, Ted.” She paused and he waited, tense, for her to continue. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Think how easy your life will be if you stick with Eve. Don’t be Rhett Butler!
“I don’t know what to say.” He scratched his head, hard, as if that would somehow set his brain straight. “I
want
to feel the way you want me to.”

“But it’s not there. That’s the rest of the sentence, isn’t it?”

Shit.
He could hear the disappointment in her voice. He was hurting her even though he’d promised himself he’d never do that. “Maybe not yet, but...that doesn’t mean what we have can’t develop into whatever we want it to be. I won’t give up. Not as long as you’re interested in trying.”

“How flattering. You’re asking me to rely on the power of your will. Your
determination.
”

He’d said the wrong thing, been too honest. “It’s not just determination. It’s knowing that you’re...that you’re everything I should want in a wife.”

“So I get a better score on your checklist.”

“I don’t have a checklist!”

“Never mind. I think a month of giving it all we’ve got is enough, don’t you?”

“A month isn’t that long, Eve. We’ve barely gotten started. And we have a...a good relationship. We never fight. We enjoy each other. We
trust
each other.”

“There we go. That’s it. You trust me, but you don’t trust Sophia.”

Could anyone trust Sophia? Maybe she wouldn’t be able to beat her addiction. Maybe what she’d been through had scarred her too deeply. Or maybe she’d get back on her feet but move away. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with basing a relationship on trust, nothing wrong with what we’ve got.”

“Except that we’re trying to make it into something it’s not!”

He said nothing, could say nothing.

She was the one who eventually broke the silence. “That night in the hot tub...”

He fell back on his pillows. Remembering that night should’ve brought him pleasure. But it didn’t, not any more than the encounters he’d had with various other women along the way. Only Sophia stood out. “What about it?”

“
Why
did you make it sexual?”

“I couldn’t see why we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would fulfill both our needs.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say it was because you were drunk.”

“Come on, we’ve discussed this.”

“Except that there’s more to it than what you’ve admitted. You wanted to protect yourself from getting back with Sophia, right? You needed to insert someone between you and her to feel safe.”

This conversation was moving into dangerous territory, but he had no clue how to turn it around. “If you know that now, you knew it then. So why’d you go along with it?”

“Because I wanted to believe. I wanted to delude myself as much as you did.”

At least she was taking some responsibility for the situation.

He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Eve. My brain has never functioned properly when it comes to her.”

She laughed without mirth. “Hello! Then stop pretending you don’t know what love is!”

“I feel sorry for her and, yes, I’m attracted to her. I’m not sure that’s love,” he said. “Anyway, love doesn’t necessarily make a relationship successful.”

“No, but it gives you a hell of a lot more to fight for—and it makes life far more rewarding when you win. In any case, I’m stepping out of the picture. That means you’ll have to figure out what you feel for her and deal with it one way or another,” she said and hung up.

Ted stayed on his bed for...he didn’t know how long. He just lay there, wrestling with himself and staring at the ceiling. He wanted to give Sophia a chance. She seemed to have changed in all the important areas. But her life was in shambles. After coming out of such a bad marriage, after going through what she’d endured for fourteen years, was she even in a position to know what she wanted?

And what if she couldn’t overcome her addiction?

* * *

As soon as she heard Cheyenne’s voice, Eve almost hung up—but it was too late. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t spoken yet; she’d placed the call so her name would’ve come up on Chey’s screen.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Cheyenne said cheerfully.

That confirmed it. There was recognition in that greeting. “Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

Normally, Eve loved this time of year. They were heading into December, which was her favorite month. It was a tradition that she and Cheyenne decorate the B and B for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving. Once they came back from coffee, they’d drag the wreaths and garlands out of the attic and, by Sunday night, Little Mary’s would look like the subject of a Norman Rockwell painting, with a fire burning in the hearth and the old-fashioned Victorian Christmas tree in front of the window. The competing B and B at the other end of town spent a lot of money when they remodeled a couple of years ago, but Eve didn’t think they came close to the quaint charm of her place—not during the holidays. Even the cemetery next door, with its lovely iron filigree fence and century-old tombstones, added to the ambience. And if they were lucky, there’d be snow....

But after her last conversation with Ted, decorating the inn didn’t sound half as appealing as it had before. She’d thought that for the first time in a long while she’d have someone special, someone besides her family, to share Christmas with. And now it would be awkward at coffee on Fridays, too, especially once everyone learned that they’d already ended the relationship.

“Did you spend the day at Ted’s mother’s place?” Eve asked.

“The last part of it. The first part we spent with my parents. What about you? Did you have the Amos boys over like you were planning?”

“They had dinner with us, but...it was a little uncomfortable.”

Eve slid beneath the covers of her bed. “Why’s that?”

“Presley told me she’d be with her boyfriend, but they got into a fight and she ended up calling me. She was lonely and wanted to come over, but...I had Aaron here.”

“They can’t get along well enough to have a Thanksgiving meal together?”

“She wants no contact with him. And...it’s not just that.” Eve heard a door open and close, then Cheyenne’s voice dropped. “There’s something else going on, something even more difficult.”

Cheyenne’s behavior pulled Eve out of her own sadness for the moment. “What is it?”

“I’ve never told you this. I’ve guarded the secret carefully because...because I haven’t even told Dylan. I
can’t
tell him—”

“You’re keeping a secret from your
husband?
The man you love more than anything in the world?” She sat up. “About what?”

“You have to promise me—
swear
to me—that you’ll never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Of course! Surely, we’ve been friends long enough for you to trust me.”

“I trust you with
my
secrets. But this isn’t my secret, and I haven’t told a living soul.”

Eve had no idea what to make of this. The two of them had been through a lot of ups and downs ever since Cheyenne’s mother had dragged her and Presley to town in that beat-up old car they’d been living in twenty years ago. Not only that, but Eve and Chey worked together five days a week. How could there be a secret Cheyenne hadn’t shared—with her
or
Dylan? “Whose secret is it? Presley’s?”

“Yes.”

“And it involves...”

“Wyatt.”

“Why would you have any reason to keep a secret about Presley’s son from—” Suddenly, Eve realized what had been right in front of her all along. “Oh, shit! Aaron’s Wyatt’s father!”

She’d asked if that was a possibility before. Most of the town knew that Presley had been sleeping with Aaron around the time—or not long before—Presley got pregnant. But they’d never been an item. And Presley had insisted that a man she met in Phoenix after she left Whiskey Creek was the father of her child.

“Wait. Aaron knows Wyatt exists—” she started but Cheyenne interrupted.

“He knows Presley has a child. But he thinks the father is from Arizona, like everyone else. They always used birth control.”

“It just didn’t work.”

“Apparently.”

“Isn’t she ever going to tell him?”

“I’ve asked her that repeatedly. She says she probably will—one day. But she keeps putting it off. She’s terrified Aaron will ruin her happiness and maybe Wyatt’s, too. But it’s getting harder and harder for me to be ‘family’ to both sides. I feel disloyal to my husband because this is his brother we’re talking about. I feel disloyal to Aaron, too—as his sister-in-law. And yet...I understand
exactly
where Presley is coming from. Aaron’s never been stable. He wasn’t ready for a child when she got pregnant. He wouldn’t have been interested, anyway—so she did him a favor by letting him off the hook.”

“I sure hope he looks at it that way when he finds out,” Eve breathed. “Dylan, too.”

“I’m afraid they won’t see it that way at all. And I can’t blame them. Part of me believes Aaron has the right to know, especially now that he’s changing, growing up. He still has his moments. He may deal with anger and resentment his whole life. But I’m seeing
some
maturity there. And I love him. It’s almost impossible
not
to love him.”