Winter Magic: 4 (The Hawks Mountain Series) (12 page)

BY THE TIME ANDI made it to Jonathan’s office door, she was ready to burst with excitement at the prospect of sharing her Santa’s Christmas Village idea with him. Outside the door, she stopped, patted her hair and smoothed the wrinkles from the impossibly short red skirt she’d chosen from Miranda’s wardrobe. She knocked lightly.

“Come in.” His deep voice sent ripples of pure pleasure down her spine.

She opened the door and peeked around it, expecting to find Jonathan behind his desk, but the chair was empty. “Jonathan?”

Strong arms came out of nowhere and encircled her, sweeping her into the room and up against Jonathan’s hard chest. With his foot, he closed the door. “I missed you,” he murmured against her lips.

Before she could reply, she was carried away on a kiss that brought back vivid memories of the night before, of wrinkled sheets, of whispered love words, and of passion beyond her wildest dreams.

He leaned back and looked deep into her eyes. “Did you miss me?”

A moment passed before she could speak. “Yes, I did, but I think we should get to work before I show you just how much.”
Was that me speaking those suggestive words?
Never in her life had she played the coy flirt with a man.

Emitting a deep sigh that reflected his regret, Jonathan kissed her briefly, loosened his embrace, and then led her to the chair facing his desk. “In that case, you’d better sit here.” When she was seated, he moved to the opposite side of his desk and sat. “And I’ll sit here. This solid oak desk should help us concentrate on business
 . . .
for now.” He winked tantalizingly.

Andi swore her toes curled inside Miranda’s flaming red heels.

“Well, Andi, what theme ideas do you have for me?” He leaned back, folded his hands across his middle, and grinned at her with a smile that looked anything but business-like.

“Well, I’d like to involve the children that this year’s proceeds will benefit and do a Santa’s Village inside the ballroom—”

He sat up straight. “No! Absolutely not! I do not want a Christmas theme.” As if someone had thrown a light switch, his smile vanished and a stern frown took its place.

Stunned by his hard tone, Andi glanced around his office at the pine boughs, candy canes, Santa’s, and poinsettias. How can he not want to do a Christmas theme when it’s obvious how much he loves the holiday? And it is a Christmas Gala.

“Do you have anything else?”

She started. “Uh
 . . .
no. Nothing. Since you referred to this event as the Christmas Gala, I was sure you’d love this idea.”

“I had nothing to do with that. That definition was given to it by my mother because of the time of year she always held it. She said people were more willing to dig deep into their pockets at this time of the year.” His tone had softened a bit, but still held a hard edge.

“I was so sure you’d love this idea that I never gave a thought to anything else.”

Jonathan rose from his chair, threw her an angry look, and then went to the window. “Then I suggest you start thinking of some.” The snowy mountains beyond the window were probably warmer than his tone of voice.

With his back ramrod straight, his manner as distant as Hawks Mountain’s peak, he reminded her of the aloof stranger she’d met on her first day here. What had happened to the man who had kissed her warmly, with the promise of more to come, when she’d entered the room? The man who had made passionate love to her last night and again this morning?

Andi had met that other man, the gentle, compassionate, caring one, and didn’t for a minute believe that this Jonathan was the real one. She’d seen her kindergarten kids use aggression and anger to cover hurt and tender feelings, and she had a feeling Jonathan was using this frostiness in the same way.

She stood and went to stand beside him. Laying her hand on his arm, she could feel the taut muscles beneath the material of his jacket. “What is it? What has you so upset? Why do you dislike Christmas so much?” She glanced up at his set profile. The convulsing muscles in his clenched jaw made her wonder what it was he was trying so hard not to say.

Jonathan remained silent. Now that he was faced with putting his objections into words, it sounded so self-indulgent.

“Please. Talk to me.”

In all the years since his mother’s death, no one had asked Jonathan to explain his pain. Neither Aunt Sarah, nor his father had listened when Jonathan had tried to confide in them about what had happened and why it tormented him. His aunt had said,
these things happen
. His grief-stricken father had called Jonathan selfish and accused him of thinking only of himself. Jonathan had never again brought up the subject to either of them.

But Andi’s soft, sincere plea had broken through the icy barrier he’d kept around his heart. For the first time ever, he wanted to share his anger, his guilt, and the ache he’d lived with for almost twenty-two years. Maybe it was the tone of her voice, or perhaps the look in her eyes, but somehow he knew she’d be understanding. But those twenty-two years of silence presented a problem. He’d held his feelings in check so long, he wasn’t sure how to let them out or if he could trust her with his pain.

As if she understood, Andi took his hand and led him to the sofa. He was too busy sorting through his thoughts to resist. She pulled him down beside her, but never let go of his hand. He clung to it, glad for the strength she gave him.

“I didn’t always hate Christmas,” he said. “It used to be my favorite holiday.”

“Then what happened to change that?” Silence. “Please, Jonathan, talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

He sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”

“I always felt the beginning was the best place.” Andi squeezed his hand encouragingly.

He slid his fingers from hers, leaned forward, arms on his thighs, and buried his face in his hands. Where was the beginning? Was it that first time his mother had gone to the doctor’s and everyone told him it was just for a checkup? Or was it the day they’d taken her away in an ambulance, and she hadn’t come home for days?

What had they told him that time
 . . . “ 
‘She just needs a rest, Jonny. That’s all. She’ll be fine and back home before you know it.’ But she hadn’t been fine, and they should have told me that.”

“Who is
she
? And what was wrong with her?”

He hadn’t realized he’d begun voicing his thoughts aloud, until Andi started asking questions.

“My mother. She was diagnosed with unstable angina when I was twelve.” He glanced at Andi. The frown pleating her eyebrows told him she didn’t have a clue as to what he meant by unstable angina. “It’s a condition caused by lack of oxygen to the heart muscles and very unpredictable. She could have done something one day and been perfectly fine and died from doing the same thing the next day.” He shook his head. The pain of knowing the role he’d played in her death nearly sliced him in half. Then he ground out the next words. The anger he’d been holding in check for years imbuing every syllable. “If I’d known that, if my aunt and my father hadn’t lied to me about all my mother’s trips to the doctors and the hospital, I never would have—”

“You never would have what?”

He picked up the small sleigh filled with laughing snowmen Aunt Sarah had placed on the coffee table. One at a time, he plucked them from their seats and dropped them to the floor at his feet. Andi gently removed what was left of the decoration from his fingers and placed the sleigh back on the table.

“What, Jonathan? You never would have what?”

The words were coming hard again. But he pushed them past his lips. “I never would have killed my mother.”

JONATHAN DIDN’T want to, but he forced himself to look at Andi. What he saw rocked his world. Although she was staring at him with her mouth open in surprise, he saw no condemnation in her expression. No disgust for the little boy who had selfishly begged his mother to go sleigh riding with him so he could try out his new Christmas present.

Of all the things Andi had expected Jonathan to say, killing his mother wasn’t even on the list. Utter disbelief stole her voice. She just could not believe it. Not the real Jonathan she’d come to know. Never. He was too gentle. Too kind.

“I don’t believe you.” The words fell from her lips before she could stop them.

He glanced at her, then quickly turned away and stared at his office’s hardwood floor. “I didn’t actually kill her, but my actions were responsible.”

“I don’t understand. How could you be responsible for your mother’s death?”

Jonathan took a deep breath as if to fortify himself. “It was Christmas day. I’d gotten a brand new Flexible Flyer sled. I wanted to try it out on the big hill behind our house.” His voice cracked. He stopped and cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to go alone, so I asked my mother to go. At first she said no, but I continued to beg until she gave in.”

Recalling what he’d said about his mother having a heart condition, Andi was afraid how this story would end. An invisible, ice cold fist squeezed her heart.

“At first I rode the sled down alone, and then I asked her to ride with me. She did, and we made several trips down the hill together. She sat on the back with her arms wrapped around me so I wouldn’t fall off. Then—” He stopped talking and swiped his hand over his face.

Andi choked back the tears burning her eyes. His pain seeped into her until it became a physical, searing ache. Grabbing his hand, she enclosed it in both of hers and squeezed as hard as she could. She wasn’t sure if it was to reassure Jonathan, or if she just needed something solid to ground her.

This poor man was being eaten alive with guilt. The only cure would be for him to get it all out, so she pushed him to continue. “What happened then?”

Another deep fortifying breath. “We were going back up the hill. I was running ahead of her. When I got to the top, I turned. My mother was lying face down in the snow.” He sighed, rose, and went back to the window. “She died a few hours later in the hospital. They said it was a heart attack brought on by overexertion.”

The pain in his voice was nearly Andi’s undoing. She swallowed the tears choking off her throat. Immediately, she understood the demon living inside this man, and why he didn’t want anything to do with Christmas.

She went to him, turned him toward her, and cupped his face in her palms. “Jonathan, your mother loved you and would have done anything to make you happy. You said yourself there were no set rules for what she could or couldn’t do, no way of knowing what would kill her. But she loved you, and staying in the house, not moving, not interacting with you, not hearing you laugh and see you so happy,
that
would have surely killed her.

“She made the choice to live her life to the fullest and bask in the happiness the two of you shared. Does that make sense?”

He didn’t reply, just continued to stare at her.

She stood on tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I think she’d be very upset knowing that her actions turned you against a holiday that’s supposed to be filled with happiness and joy. And I think she would be pleased to know that you would be dedicating this year’s Christmas Gala to the children.”

Jonathan stared at the beautiful face before him. He knew what Andi was saying was true. Deep inside he knew, and for years, he’d told himself the same thing over and over. Once his father had explained his mother’s condition, he’d even done some research. He’d found that if it hadn’t been sleigh riding, it might have been something as simple as her walking down the stairs that could have brought on her death. But even with that knowledge, and even though his brain told him it made perfect sense, he loved and missed his mother so much that he couldn’t let go of that guilt that plowed through his soul every time he thought about it.

But now, looking into Andi’s soft, compassionate eyes, Jonathan felt like he could finally make peace with his mother’s death, and that little boy with the huge burden of guilt could begin to heal and forgive himself.

All he could manage was, “Thank you. Thank you for listening and understanding.” Then he gathered her in his arms and just held her close.

Oddly enough, he felt better about himself than he had in a very long time. About one thing she had convinced him unconditionally. His mother would love the idea of the children reaping the benefits of the gala, especially the part about them being involved. He’d just have to grit his teeth and make an effort to endure a night filled with all the trappings of Christmas, and hope the memories could someday truly been laid to rest.

He held her at arm’s length. “We better get busy planning this Santa’s Village you have in mind.”

WIDE-EYED, ANDI surveyed the Prince dining room a few days later. The sun danced off a table set for two with fine crystal, silverware, and china, with a pot of red poinsettias standing in the center. She turned to look up at Jonathan, who smiled down at her with an impish gleam in his eyes.

Since their talk about his mother, Jonathan’s mood had brightened considerably. He’d even gotten into helping her plan the Christmas Village. He’d also suggested Davy Collins bring his wolf Sadie and that Andi should ask his father to play Santa.

Earlier that morning, they’d gone to the florist and approved the centerpieces for the tables and the floral decorations for the ballroom. When they’d finished, they went to the caterers and set up the menu.

When they returned home, he announced they’d be having lunch in the dining room rather than eating while they worked, as they’d been doing since they’d started planning in earnest. Evidently, from the grin on his face, the reason for his brief absence from when they’d come home had been to arrange this lunch for them.

“I thought this was going to be a quick business lunch.”

He kissed her briefly. “This is a thank you for helping me through
 . . .
that business about my mother.”

She kissed him back. “No thanks needed. It breaks my heart to see you hurting like that.”

“Ah, but there is, and besides, I wanted some time with you, just you. Not the foundation and the plans. Just you.” He kissed her again—this time long and hard and strongly suggesting the dining room was not the room he wanted to be in.

Finally, he released her, guided her to the table, held out her chair, and waited for her to sit. Then he took the seat across from her. The poinsettias, while lovely, were so tall they had to lean to one side to see each other.

“This won’t do. I want to look at you.” Still breathless from their kiss, Andi watched as Jonathan got up, removed the flowers and replaced them with a small Santa in his sleigh that Aunt Sarah had put on a side table. Andi smiled, pleased that he had chosen to place a Christmas decoration on the table. “That’s better.”

Before she could say anything, Davis began serving the luncheon of lobster bisque, toast points, and tossed green salad. By the time he’d brought the rich dark coffee and crème brulee, all Andi could do was sigh contentedly.

The past few days had been perfect. They’d worked together to pull together all the arrangements for the gala. Despite knowing nothing about this business of planning enormous events, Andi just knew that this was going to be a triumph. It would give Miranda’s business the boost it needed to become a resounding success, and the money they’d raise would pay for the new wing on The Wishing Place.

But beyond all that, Andi felt cherished for the first time in her life. Ever since the first night they’d spent together at her cottage, Jonathan had treated her like a princess. And each day, she fell deeper and deeper in love with the man she might possibly be able to make a life with.

Only one other thing tarnished the glow on her shining new world
 . . .
the lies she’d been telling Jonathan. They’d bothered her before, but they bothered her more now. Ever since she’d heard the anger in his voice when he’d said if his aunt and father hadn’t lied to him, he’d have never enticed his mother to go sleigh riding.

If he could feel that angry about their lies, how would he feel about the ones she’d been heaping on top of each other for weeks?

JONATHAN STARED down at the keyboard of his laptop, then at the blank monitor. How long had he been sitting here doing nothing? The answer came easily. Ever since Andi had left him to work in her office upstairs.

No woman had ever had this astounding effect on him. Every time he tried to concentrate, all he could see was her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, or her dazzling smile, or her golden hair. She had completely taken over his thoughts.

Determinedly, he pushed her from his mind and concentrated on the laptop’s screen.

A knock sounded on his door, and seconds later his father stuck his head around the door. “May I come in?”

“Sure.” Unusually grateful for the interruption, Jonathan closed the laptop.

His father made his way to the couch and sat down. “I was just wondering how the plans for the gala are coming along.”

“Very well.” Jonathan rose from his chair and joined his father. “Andi has a wonderful idea for a theme this year, and it’s already in motion. We should be all set by the time of the event.” He paused for a moment and studied his father, the robust waistline, the rosy cheeks, the white hair
 . . .
“In fact, you could help us out.”

“Really? How?” His father looked eager, even pleased that Jonathan and requested his help.

Jonathan experienced a pang of guilt. Why hadn’t he realized before that, since his father had retired from Prince Publishing, he’d done little but sit around the house and lament the loss of his addictive, but beloved cigars? Perhaps Jonathan should have included the older man more in previous years.

“Andi is creating a Santa’s village, complete with reindeer and snow inside the ballroom. She also plans to include children from The Wishing Place dressed as elves. What she needs is a Santa.” He patted his father’s thigh. “That’s where you come in. Will you play Santa for us?”

A huge smile spread across Henry Prince’s face. “Whatever that young lady wants, she’s got. I’d be delighted.” He stood and walked toward the door, then stopped and looked back at his son over his shoulder. “You need to hang on to her, my boy. She’s special.”

Jonathan smiled. “I know, Dad, and I’m trying to do just that.”

Henry nodded, and then opened the door.

Before he could change his mind, Jonathan called out to his father. “Dad?”

Half way into the hall, Henry stopped and turned back to Jonathan. “Yes?”

He hesitated for a bare moment before blurting out a question he’d always wanted to ask, but had never been able to bring himself to voice before. “Why did you and Aunt Sarah lie to me about Mother’s condition?”

The sad smile that always transformed Henry Prince’s face when he talked about his wife appeared. “Because she asked us to.”

LATER, IN HER office, Andi couldn’t stop thinking about the inevitable consequences of her lies. Once Jonathan found out that she wasn’t the owner of the business, she was certain it would mean the end of a relationship that was barely in its infancy. She should have listened to Granny Jo and told him long ago. But now, so much time had passed, that she didn’t think she could tell him and expect him to understand why she had perpetuated the lies.

To take her mind off it, she placed a call to the hospital. She hadn’t spoken to Miranda in a couple of days.

“Hello.” Miranda’s voice came over the phone a lot stronger than Andi had heard it in a while.

“Hey, how are you feeling? You sound much better.”

“I am much better. In fact, the doctor says I may be able to go home soon.”

Andi swallowed hard. Bracing herself to ask the question to which she was afraid she already knew the answer. “Does that mean you’ll be out in time to attend the gala?”