That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) (12 page)

Rubbing off the sudsy water, Linda’s hand sliced the air with the motion. “It’s not only that. No one buys a wedding dress the way you did.”

Again Cathy negated her friend’s concern with a shake of her head. “I just happen to know what I like, that’s all,” she replied, somewhat defensively.

“I shopped for weeks for my wedding dress. You walked into one store, picked a suit off
the rack, tried it on, and bought it.”

“As I said, I know what I like.”

Linda tilted her head at a disbelieving angle. “Whatever you say.” She paused, taking in a breath before changing the subject. “I’m pleased that Dan and Grady get along so well.”

Linda’s gaze followed hers into the family room, where Grady and Dan were both intent over a game of chess. Angela was sitting on the carpet in front of the television, watching a Thanksgiving cartoon special. She noted the way Linda’s gaze studied the child.

“Have you heard anything from the adoption agency?”

Immediately, a warmth glowed in her friend’s expression. “Yes. Both Dan and I are surprised at how fast everything is progressing. We went into the idea of adopting thinking we’d spend several years on a waiting list.”

“Won’t you?” Everything Cathy had heard about adopting indicated as much.

“Only if we’re interested in a Caucasian newborn. The agency has plenty of children needing a family now. Dan and I decided we were willing to make a home for any child. There’s even a possibility of our having a preschooler after the first of the year.”

“Oh, Linda, that’s wonderful news.” Again, Cathy’s gaze drifted to Angela. She almost had to bite her tongue from telling her friend that she was marrying Grady for almost the identical reason. To give Angela a real home. Her eyes became tender as she studied the little girl. Angela was well named, her look trusting, almost angelic. More and more, she was opening up around Cathy, bouncing into her classroom after school, beaming her a smile as she slipped her hand into Cathy’s.

Linda asked her something, and Cathy turned. As she did, her gaze skidded across the diamond engagement ring Grady had given her. Cathy had gasped when he unceremoniously slipped it on her finger. It was a magnificent piece of jewelry, with interweaving gold and diamonds. At first it had weighted her hand, but now she was accustomed to the feel of it, often toying with it, especially when she was nervous. Like when they visited the pastor for a counseling session before the wedding. Cathy could have sworn he knew this was no love match. Both she and Grady had answered his questions as honestly as humanly possible. For a moment she had been half afraid Pastor Wilkens would refuse to marry them.

“Did you want pumpkin or pecan?” Linda repeated the question, gently touching Cathy’s sleeve.

“Oh, sorry.” She looked up, startled. “Pumpkin, I guess. Want me to check with the men?”

“Go ahead. We’ve finished these dishes. It’s time to dirty more.”

Grady’s face was knit in concentration as he studied the chessboard. Cathy sat on the arm of the chair, placing a hand across his back, waiting until he had made his move before speaking.

“Do you want pie?”

He looked up at her, the features on his powerful face softening as their eyes met. “No,” he said, and glanced abruptly at his watch. “In fact, I think it’s about time we left.”

A protest rose automatically to her lips, but she nodded her agreement. She was lucky to have spent this much of the holiday with Grady. She knew there were several things he needed to do before the wedding.

They made their farewells, Cathy promising to have Dan and Linda over for a meal right after she and Grady were married. The minute the words were out, Cathy realized she’d said the wrong thing. Newlyweds were supposed to want privacy.

Angela fell asleep in the car on the way home.

“Grady,” Cathy braved the unpleasant subject a few minutes later. “I know this is difficult, but we’re going to have to look like we’re more in love.”

“What?” Grady choked, his eyes momentarily leaving the road.

Embarrassed, Cathy looked away. “Well, we’re going to be married in a couple days. My mother is going to take one look at us and—”

“And what?” Grady demanded, the edges of his mouth turned upward slightly.

Crossing her arms defiantly, Cathy cast him a fiery glare. “You’re not making this any easier.”

“I’ll behave.” His hand squeezed hers, and their fingers locked.

Cathy smiled. She did enjoy Grady. He could be warm and teasing and a lot of fun. “I don’t want my mother to worry about me once she returns to Wichita.”

“I’ll fawn on your every word,” Grady promised, his lips brushing her gloves as he chuckled.

Cathy couldn’t prevent a smile. She couldn’t imagine Grady being any different from what he was. Sometimes she was curious about his relationship with his first wife, but the questions remained unasked. The curiosity centered more on what Grady would be like when he
deeply cared for something other than Alaska Cargo. “Be natural about it, for heaven’s sake,” she pleaded.

“I will, don’t worry.”

* * *

Grady twisted the cigarette into the ashtray with unnecessary vigor.

“Relax, will you?” Cathy’s hand reached for his. The airport was bustling with activity. The Thanksgiving rush of travelers filled the small airport.

Grady’s mouth twitched in a series of expressions, curling his lips. “What are you doing?” she asked, with an exaggerated breath.

“I’m practicing looking like I’m in love.”

Laughter burst from Cathy, shaking her shoulders. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

His eyes smiled into hers. “This isn’t easy, meeting your mother and all. Mothers-in-law and I don’t have a fantastic track record.”

It was the first time Grady had mentioned Pam’s mother. “You don’t need to worry,” she attempted to assure him, “you’ll like my mother. We’re a lot alike.” More than Grady knew. They both had chosen the same kind of men to marry.

Seeing a plane approach from the runway below, Cathy stood. “That’s Mom’s flight, right on time.” Her heart beat excitedly as she placed her hand in the crook of Grady’s arm.

Grady straightened, brushing imaginary lint from his jacket. “How do I look?”

“A little rough around the edges, but you’ll do.”

“I better,” he murmured, in a low growl.

Watching her mother descend from the airplane steps, Cathy had to fight the urge to wave. Her mother was unlikely to see her from outside the building; nonetheless, she stood on tiptoes, raising her hand in greeting.

Her mother paused, looking over her shoulder. Cathy felt the blood rush out of her face, and for a crazy moment she thought she might faint. Following Paula Thompson out of the plane were Steve and MaryAnne.

“Cathy.” Paula Thompson hugged her daughter tightly, patting her back. “You look marvelous.”

MaryAnne’s arms circled her sister next, holding her as if it had been years instead of months since Cathy had moved to Alaska. Patting her flat stomach, she asked with a good-natured laugh, “Can you tell I’m pregnant?”

“Of course.” By some miracle, Cathy managed to keep her voice level.

Steve moved forward, expecting the same greeting she had given her mother and sister. Removing herself from his reach, she turned and looped an arm into Grady’s. “Mom, MaryAnne, Steve, this is Grady Jones, my soon-to-be husband.” She managed to avoid eye contact with Steve, but a feeling of cold dread raced through her. Why was he here? What did he hope to accomplish?

Formal greetings were exchanged between her family and Grady. Although her mother’s expression was friendly, Cathy was quick to note the worry in her slightly narrowed blue eyes. Her mother knew her best of all, and it would take more than reassuring words to fool this woman.

“I understand you own your own business?” Paula Thompson asked Grady.

Undoubtedly her mother had been mulling over the question ever since Cathy had phoned and told her about the wedding. Like any mother, Cathy realized, hers didn’t want to have a daughter repeat the mistakes she had made.

“Listen,” Cathy interrupted, “let’s go to the house and have coffee. I know Angela is anxious to meet everyone.” The remainder of her things had been moved into Grady’s house that morning. With the wedding scheduled for noon the next day, it made more sense to spend the night in a hotel with her mother than to pay rent on an empty house.

“You should have brought Angela with you,” her mother admonished gently. “I think I’m fortunate to receive a built-in granddaughter,” she added.

“She’s a bit shy,” Cathy explained, looking to Grady. “We both felt she’d be more comfortable meeting you in familiar surroundings.”

Cathy gave her mother’s waist a tiny squeeze, silently expressing her appreciation for her
easy acceptance of the little girl.

As they headed down the terminal to retrieve the luggage, Grady leaned over and whispered, “You can let go of my arm now. I think the circulation’s been cut off.”

“Oh, sorry,” she murmured, and relaxed her hold.

“Is everything okay?” he questioned, his voice laced with concern. “You look pale all of a sudden. You’re not getting those pre-wedding jitters, are you?”

“Of course.” She tried to laugh it off. “Every woman does.” A husky defensiveness remained in her voice, and she felt Grady’s piercing gaze study her.

* * *

The minute Steve walked in the door, Peterkins went wild. Barking excitedly, he raced around the room in several wide loops, leaping from the couch to the chair and back down to the carpet before vaulting into Steve’s waiting arms.

Crouched to the floor, Steve gave the spaniel his full attention. “You remember me, do you, boy?” Ruffling the long, black ears, he accepted as his due Peterkins’s adoration.

Uncomfortably aware of Grady’s eyes following her, Cathy ignored the unspoken questions he seemed to be hurling at her.

“I get quite a different reception from Cathy’s dog,” Grady commented after Peterkins had calmed down. Cathy wasn’t fooled by the veiled interest.

“Peterkins and I go way back, don’t we, boy?” Steve directed his attention to the dog before he turned and smiled boldly at Cathy.

Her legs turned to Jell-O, and she sat with her mother, Angela positioned between them. She wanted to shout at Steve to leave her alone. Couldn’t he see how difficult this situation was for her? Had he always been so selfish, so uncaring? Cathy had wondered how she’d react to Steve if she saw him again. Now that he was here, in the same room, and they were separated by only a few feet, she felt embarrassed, uneasy.

Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of a muscle that jerked in Grady’s harsh features as he stood and sauntered to the fireplace. He placed another log on the already roaring fire.

“I gave Cathy the dog,” Steve explained.

“That was a long time ago,” she qualified hurriedly.

“Not that long ago,” Steve contradicted. He was toying with her, in a cat-and-mouse game. She wanted to scream at him to stop. It was almost as if Steve wanted to make her as uncomfortable as possible, punish her for marrying Grady, hurt her further.

Her mother was busy making friends with Angela. She sat beside the little girl, an arm draped over her thin shoulders, and told her bits and pieces of information about Kansas. MaryAnne, feeling tired, had gone to rest in the spare bedroom for a few minutes.

Apart from a few whispers coming from Angela and Paula Thompson, the room seemed to crackle with an electric tension.

Grady came to stand behind Cathy, and he placed his hands on her shoulders, staking claim to his ownership. Cathy bit into a quivering lip, praying Steve would accept the unspoken message.

In that instant, he caught her eyes. A lazy, knowing grin deepened the creased lines at the sides of his mouth. Steve knew. He knew how confused she was and planned to use it against her.

Cathy closed her eyes to the rush of bitterness and sucked in a stabbing breath. With a determined effort she forced herself to lift a hand and place it on top of Grady’s. Her eyes were imploring Steve to accept her decision. But one glance at the narrowed anger flashing at her and Cathy realized he would ignore her entreaty now. Just as he’d done the day of his wedding.

Making an excuse to check on MaryAnne, Cathy stood and moved slowly down the hallway to the bedroom. As quietly as possible, she cracked the door, not wanting to disturb her sister unnecessarily.

“Is that you, Steve?” The weak voice came from across the room.

“No, it’s Cathy. You go ahead and rest.” Just as quietly, she moved to close the door.

“Don’t go.” MaryAnne sat up in bed and motioned for Cathy to join her. Raising her arms high above her head, she stretched and released a wide yawn. “It’s crazy how tired I get.” She placed a protective hand on her abdomen, gently patting at the slight roundness there. “This little one seems to think I should spend my life sleeping. Mom said it was the same with her.”

Cathy sat on the end of the bed. “You’re happy about this baby, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes,” she said, and breathed in fervently. Tears shimmered in her deep gray eyes, and a delicate finger wiped them away. “Look at me,” she said, with a shaky laugh. “I cry so easy. Just wait until you’re pregnant, Cath. I’m so emotional lately. I don’t know how Steve puts
up with me.”

“Has he been understanding?”

MaryAnne nodded eagerly. “I can’t tell you how great he’s been about everything. Are you and Grady planning on a family?”

The question took Cathy by surprise. She didn’t know; they’d never discussed it. “Not right away.” Her fingers nervously traced the flower pattern of the bedspread. “We’ll wait awhile.”

“Don’t wait too long,” MaryAnne advised solemnly. “I don’t think a man can love you any more than when you’re carrying his child.”

A searing pain shot through Cathy, and she bit her tongue to keep from crying out at the intensity of its force. Did Steve love her sister? Truly love her? Had his feelings changed once he realized MaryAnne was pregnant? He hadn’t known about the baby when he wrote the letter. The letter. A hundred times she’d regretted burning it. She would never have Steve, but she could have had the confirmation of his love for her. In her agony, she had destroyed that.