The Giving Season (10 page)

Jessy sat at her window and watched the snow fall over the fields behind the farmhouse.
She’d lit the fireplace and kept the lights off, feeling herself growing drowsy as she gazed at the flicker of the flames. It was better for all involved if she sequestered herself in the bedroom while Ann was there. The kids didn’t get that much quality time with their mother as it was; she definitely didn’t want to intrude on their holiday.

It amazed her to think that Ann could walk away from this. The house was beautiful, Lyssa was amazing, the kids were adorable, and Michael—well, Michael was Michael and there weren’t too many men like him in the world. Now Ann apparently had the best of both worlds: her career in Chicago and her family in Minnesota, when she felt like playing wife and mother.

It didn’t seem fair.

“Anti-social much?”

Michael’s voice startled her, and Jessy jumped slightly as she turned away from the window. She managed a smile that she didn’t feel. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Michael sat down beside her on the window seat. “Why are you up here sitting in the dark?”

“I’m being all broody and mysterious.”

“Uh-huh.”

Jessy sighed. “I thought it’d be best if I kinda—stayed out of sight while Ann’s here.”

“Best for who?”

“Well, for the kids.” Jessy finally managed to meet his eyes again and felt instantly swoony. She didn’t know how he did it, but he had a way of looking at her that made her feel as if he could see right into her mind and heart. “And for, you know—you two.”

“Me and Ann?”

Jessy nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Sweetheart, there
is
no ‘you two’ when it comes to me and Ann. Trust me.” Michael’s smile quirked slightly as he shook his head. “I try to give her a wide berth when she’s here to see the kids. Otherwise the arguing gets pretty ugly.”

Jessy couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was actually true. Maybe they argued, but from what Ann insinuated, they seemed to enjoy making up, too. The thought made her feel like someone was crushing her heart in their hands.

“And anyway, she’s already gone. She got a call and had to rush out of here on some kind of top secret super-important journalist mission.” Michael grinned, but Jessy could tell that he’d been hurt by her sudden departures in the past. “I thought I’d see if you wanted to come downstairs and watch a movie with me and the kids before we turn in.”

“Sure. I’d like that.” Jessy forced herself to push the images of Ann and Michael out of her mind. She had to remember that they were friends. Yes, she was attracted to him, and yes, she wouldn’t mind at all if he were attracted to her, but she knew that wasn’t how the real world worked. He might flirt with her. He might touch her hand or make the occasional romantic gesture, but in the end, it meant nothing. He still loved his wife.

“Come on, then. Mom’s making popcorn.” Michael stood and held out his hand to Jessy. Without thinking twice she took it, relishing the warmth of his skin. Just touching him sent a wave of comfort through her. When she was back in Kentucky, grading papers and watching endless nights of bad TV, she would remember this moment and all the other moments spent with Michael. She would remember how he smelled of woodsmoke and pine and soap, and how his palm felt rough but soft against hers, and how the slightest brush of his body against hers made her feel boneless and dizzy. She would remember how he would study her with eyes so soft and caring that she could fool herself into feeling cherished.

When she was alone, she’d be able to remember all those things about Michael, and a million more little things besides. It wouldn’t be nearly enough—

But it was more than she’d had before. 

The bed shifted as someone crawled in beside her.
Then the intruders giggled and Jessy felt tiny, clawed feet skitter up her arm. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep as Ben scooted closer, herding Miss Purty up Jessy’s arm and onto the hollow of her shoulder. He giggled softly under his breath as Marie tried to shush him.

Barely managing to hide her smile, Jessy shifted onto her back and—as she expected—Miss Purty crawled onto her throat and sat there. As theatrically as she could, Jessy smacked her lips and fluttered her eyelids and made a show of slowly waking up, knowing that Ben and Marie were probably about to explode with giggles. The twins had the most infectious laughter Jessy had ever heard, and over the past few days she’d found herself going to outlandish ends to hear it. From what Michael had told her, Ben was the more sensitive of the two, sometimes going through periods of total withdrawal whenever Michael and Ann argued. If keeping him out of one of those periods resulted in her getting hamster cooties, then so be it.

Jessy finally opened her eyes, focused on the ball of fur sitting on her chest, and squawked in feigned surprise, sending Ben and Marie into delighted gales of giggles. Miss Purty was unimpressed, too busy grooming herself to care.

“Good morning, Jessy,” Ben said in between giggles, echoed immediately by Marie. Ben took Miss Purty and held her in both hands.

Jessy sat up and ran a hand through her disheveled hair, smiling broadly. She could handle waking up this way, to the sound of children’s laughter. “And just what do you think you’re doing?” she asked in a playfully prim voice.

“Miss Purty wanted to wake you up,” Ben said, smiling innocently even as mischief twinkled in his eyes. He looked like Michael in miniature. “Can you come play in the snow with me and Libby and Marie?”

“Yeah!” Marie grinned and nodded fiercely. “Come play with us. We’re gonna make snowmen and everything.”

Jessy took a quick inventory of herself; last week’s cold had passed, leaving her with only a mildly stuffy nose. All in all, she felt pretty good. And the thought of playing in the snow after close to a week of being stuck indoors made her feel even better.

“I’d love to,” she said and smiled, resisting the urge to grab them both up in a hug. To her surprised delight, they hugged her instead, Ben cradling Miss Purty carefully to his chest. Jessy closed her eyes, fighting a hot rush of unexpected tears as they squeezed her with childish exuberance.

“I like you, Jessy,” Ben said as he released her. He studied her closely, one hand spanning her cheek as he kept her face tilted up. Jessy smiled back, her emotions firmly under her own control again.

“That’s good—’cause I like you, too.” Jessy playfully tickled his sides and then turned to tickle Marie. “And you, too.” Ben and Marie squirmed and giggled, then jumped down from the bed. “Give me ten minutes to get ready, okay?”

“Okay.” Ben said as he and Marie went to the door, hesitating to look at each other quickly before turning to face her again. “Jessy?”

Jessy paused midway through a stretch. “Hmm?”

“We’re glad you came home with Daddy.” Ben smiled and looked at Marie for backup.

“Yeah,” Marie said and nodded enthusiastically, a big grin on her face. “Daddy’s happy again.”

Jessy’s smile softened as she gazed at them, touched but saddened by their words. She couldn’t tell them that she’d be leaving after Christmas. She couldn’t make them think that she would stay forever—even though she wished she could.

“Thank you,” she finally said. She managed another smile as Ben and Marie disappeared down the hallway, running back to their room. Once she was alone, the smile faded.

Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier? she wondered. Why didn’t she see this coming? The last few days had been the most wonderful time of her life; she and Michael and the kids had decorated the house under Lyssa’s observing eye, laughing and drinking hot chocolate and singing all the Christmas carols they could remember. Every morning she’d met Michael after he’d done the chores, talking over coffee and breakfast until it was time to wake the kids. She’d helped Lyssa go through treasured Christmas ornaments in preparation for the Christmas Eve tree-decorating party while Michael went about the daily business of running the dairy farm. For the first time in years, she actually felt as if she were part of a family again.

16.5pt"She should have known she’d get attached to the kids—she always did when she was teaching. And she should have known she’d get attached to Michael, too, no matter how much she tried not to like him. But it was too late now. She was here, the kids were wonderful, and Michael was too good to be true. Now she was well and truly stuck. Now it would be harder than ever to leave them after Christmas.

In the back forty of Michael’s farm, the world was nothing but snow and sky.
Jessy took a number of snowball hits just because she was too distracted gawking at the scenery, but she couldn’t help it—the farm was gorgeous. Once again she wished she could see what it looked like in the spring, when the grass was new and the trees and flowers were in bloom.

Most of the morning passed in a blur of snowmen, snow fights, and snow angels. Libby, at that awkward stage where she wanted to look cool but still be able to play like a kid, had eventually loosened up enough to join Jessy and Ben and Marie in their snow battles. Since the upset with Ann, Jessy had kept an eye on her during meals, making sure she didn’t pick at her food or excuse herself the moment the final bite was swallowed. Instead, Libby was eating normally. No signs of bulimia, no hint of anorexia.

One reason for the fairly peaceful mood, Jessy guessed, was the fact that Ann had left for an assignment after the scene she’d caused Thanksgiving night. The kids had calmed down, and Jessy was just glad to see all of them laughing and having a good time; in only a few days, she’d grown fiercely protective of them. Which was crazy, but, she realized, understandable. She
was
thirty-two, after all. Maybe she’d hit snooze on her biological alarm clock one too many times.

“Daddy!” Ben’s delighted shout startled Jessy out of her thoughts and she clumsily sat up from the snow bank, ruining her snow angel as she struggled to her feet. As she brushed snow from her back and legs, she glanced up and saw Michael walking from the direction of the barns. For a moment she could only stare at him in his denim jacket and faded jeans and battered black cowboy hat. As he drew closer to where Jessy was standing she could see the dark shadow of stubble on his cheeks and chin. He looked tired, but happy.

She swallowed hard, forcing her racing heart to regain its normal beat. The man
was
good-looking. She could attempt to deny her feelings for him, but she could not deny the fact that he was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

Which would make what she had to say to him that much harder. She wasn’t looking forward to their inevitable talk, but she had to tell him she was leaving.

“Hey, Benny-boy.” Michael picked up Ben and helped him clamber onto his shoulders, smiling as he approached Jessy and Libby and Marie. “Ladies,” he said and winked.

“Can I go to the mall today, Dad?” Libby asked. “Kelly and Gina want me to go Christmas shopping with them.”

Michael glanced at Jessy again and she could see the smile in his eyes.
Don’t be like that,
she thought and sighed.
Don’t be so damn irresistible.

“Well, I
was
hoping you’d help me muck out the horse stalls, but—” Michael sighed melodramatically, smiling even as he spoke. “If you’d rather go
shopping
, then—”

Libby grinned and stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss. “Thanks, Daddy!”

As Libby hurried off, Michael swung Ben off his shoulders and turned his attention to Jessy again. She felt her heart stutter as his smile widened and the corners of his eyes crinkled merrily. It was a good thing he had no idea how much he affected her; she’d never be able to look him in the eye again.

“Play with us, Daddy!” Marie tugged at Michael’s sleeve. “I wanna play snowballs.”

“Snowballs, huh?” Michael’s eyebrows rose as he looked from Jessy to Ben. “The three of us against Jessy?”

“Yeah!” Ben giggled as he scooped up a handful of snow and pelted Jessy with it. Laughing, Jessy darted away, taking only a moment to form a snowball of her own. She let fly with it and hit Michael squarely in the chest. The look of comical confusion on his face made her laugh even harder.

“Uh-oh, woman,” he said with mock menace. “You’re gonna pay for that one.”

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots.” Jessy laughed again as Marie threw an armful of snow into her face. The war commenced, and Jessy couldn’t catch her breath for laughing. Ben’s aim was amazingly good for a little boy—which more than made up for Michael’s inability to hit the side of a barn with his pitches.

After a while, Michael whistled through his teeth and stopped the fight. Jessy couldn’t resist and lobbed one last snowball at him, knocking the hat off his head as it connected with his ear. Michael closed his eyes and smiled, trying to retain his dignity even as snow dripped off the tip of his nose and Ben and Jessy and Marie collapsed into giggles.

“As I was about to say,” Michael said and looked at them again, smile widening. “I think it’s time for certain six-year-olds to go inside and eat lunch.”

Ben looked over to Jessy. “I’m six and a half,” he whispered. “How old are
you?”

“Nope, Benny-boy—I’m talking about you and your sister.” Michael picked Ben up in a hug and kissed his cheek, swinging him down and swooping Marie up in one easy gesture. “Go keep your gramma company for a while, ’kay?”

“Oh, all right,” Marie sighed and looked over to Jessy. “Do you think she’ll stay?” she asked in a loud whisper. Jessy acted as if she didn’t hear, studying a distant grove of trees as if they were the most interesting things on Earth.

“I don’t know,” Michael whispered back. “We’ll have to work on her, won’t we?”

“Yeah!” After accepting a kiss on the cheek, Marie squirmed out of Michael’s arms and ran to Jessy, stopping only long enough to give her a quick hug before zipping back to the house in a race with Ben. Jessy waited until Lyssa greeted the kids at the back door before daring to look at Michael. As she’d suspected, he was watching her.