Any Given Christmas (20 page)

“Em, I—”

“At first he laughed and asked why I thought it would be his.” Her hands worried the strings that hung from the ends of her scarf. “But drunk or not, he knew I’d been a virgin. Then he told me he planned to take the advice of his love-‘em-and-leave-‘em good-time buddy Dean Silverthorne. Apparently you’d already warned him off the local girls who might be marriage-minded. You’d told him to focus on his football career and not any backwoods slut who might try to trap him.”

“I would never say that.” Anger curled his fingers into fists. “You know my mom and dad would never raise a son who’d say something like that.”

“Doesn’t matter. He ran and I got lucky.” A chill settled into her voice that reached out and burned his heart. “Unlike my mother, I never had to bring an unwanted child into this world.”

“Were you pregnant?”

She nodded so slightly he almost missed it.

“I lost it,” she whispered.

“Did anyone else know?”

She shook her head.

“Em. I’m so sorry. He reached out for her but she backed away until her backside bumped the veranda rail. Her message was loud and clear and he had no choice but to drop his hands. “Why didn’t you go to someone who could have helped you?”

“I was eighteen, Dean. I just wanted it all to go away. I didn’t want to be an outsider anymore. I didn’t want people to think of me like they thought of my mother. I wanted them to like me.”

“They like you, Em.
I
like you.”

She stared at him for a moment. Then blinked her eyes once. Twice. “I know you do. But that’s just not enough.” She clutched her coat beneath her heart in one small hand. “And I think it’s best if you find someone else to be on your board of directors.” She turned and hurried down the steps to her car.

“Emma.” He followed her. “Don’t go.”

When she reached the Forester she opened the door, turned, and looked up at him with more courage than any man he’d ever met on the field. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told about this. It feels really good to get it off my chest. For years I blamed myself. Whether I was a tease or just a stupid girl flattered that a handsome college football player seemed attracted to her, it doesn’t matter anymore. But in that lesson I did learn something important about myself. I may not be much, but I don’t ever want to be forgettable.”

She slid into her car and shut the door.

“Don’t lump me in with someone like that, Em. Please.” Before he could blink her engine turned over and her headlights burned up the row of pines that bordered the long path to the road until her taillights disappeared.

Despair gnawed at his gut and clawed at his heart. For the first time since he’d received word that his mother had died, Dean felt truly helpless. He couldn’t change the past. And without Emma, the future looked empty.

T
he classroom was filled with color, and laughter, and gusts of activity that encouraged hand-clapping and hoorays. But the class Emma stood in was not her own. As a part of her master’s program she’d been invited to spend a day at the Missoula Academy for Developmental Needs.

There were ten children in the class. Each had his or her own teacher. The children appeared focused and happy. Best of all, they were learning and communicating.

“We’re building intensive interaction into our programs,” Donna Lee, the guidance counselor, told Emma. “We’ve found that body language and touch are really helpful in teaching the children to cope better in the real world.”

Emma’s heart raced as if she’d had too much caffeine. “It’s fascinating. Wonderful.”

“Would you like to join in?” The gray-haired woman looked as if she could be a Florida retiree, soaking up the sunshine. Instead she’d chosen to continue to work. And her love for her work was apparent in the huge smile on her face.

“I’d love to,” Emma responded, although she did feel a bit nervous.

“Good.” Mrs. Lee took her by the hand. “Then let’s start here with lead and follow.”

Donna led her to a corner filled with colorful pillows. “Amy will show you how it’s done. I can’t guarantee you won’t get addicted. So don’t blame me if you don’t want to leave at the end of the day.”

Emma laughed. “I’m just going to be happy to take one thing back to help the little boy in my own class.”

“Oh, you’ll take more than one thing. Guaranteed.”

For the next two hours Emma engaged in chair games and methods of repetition, learning the importance of touch and patience. And by the time she sat on the floor across from a little girl named Heather, Emma had learned the importance of sign language for communication. Within minutes of sitting down on an orange and yellow butterfly pillow, she and little Heather were laughing. Emma learned that equally as important as sign language, sounds and facial expressions were key. The more these children could communicate, the less frustration they would face.

At the end of the day, Emma waved goodbye and walked toward her car with a smile on her face. Tomorrow when she returned to her own class, she was going to ignore the school superintendent who had told her to put Brenden Jones at the back of the class. She would put the boy at the front where she could incorporate all the lessons she’d learned. Her solitary goal by the time the bell rang would be to see Brenden laugh and to tell her goodbye in sign.

She turned and took another look at the school, and an exhilarating sense of accomplishment danced before her eyes.

This
was what she was meant to do. To help children with needs.

And in that thought she realized that though they were miles apart on many other things, on this issue, she and Dean were very much alike.

A
t half past four a few days later, Dean stood beside his sister in the Sugar Shack, scooping measured amounts of cherry-chocolate cupcake batter into bake cups. His father had taken a coffee break at one of the bistro sets with a few of his hunting buddies. And from the radio perched on a shelf above the mixer, Dierks Bentley sang a song asking if he was the only one. That’d be a big
hell no
, cowboy.

“Thanks for the offer to help me get these Valentine’s orders filled.” Kate squeezed pink icing down into a pastry bag. “Chelsea, my usual helper, has a report due in Honors Civics tomorrow.”

“No problem. I didn’t have anything else going on.”

“Really?” She looked up from the small heart she had piped onto the bright red icing of a chocolate caramel cupcake. “With all that shoulder rehabbing, and charity planning, and organizing stuff you have to do?”

Out of mere frustration he’d overdone it with his workout. Tomorrow he’d pay. Today he was paying for something else. “The plans have stalled.”

“Why?”

“Because… we lost a board member.”

Kate’s hand dropped to the counter with a clunk. “What the hell did you do now?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a man. Men don’t talk. They grunt and groan and piss and moan, but God forbid they tell you what they’re really thinking.”

“Trouble in newlywed paradise?”

“No. I’m talking about
you
, you big dork.” She pushed her hand against his chest, leaving a flour print on his green apron. “You’ve been moping around all day and just
now
you’re telling me that everything for Mom’s organization has come to a halt because we lost a member? Since everyone else is related, the only member we could have lost is Emma. So what did you do to piss her off?”

“You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you, Kate?” He set down the scoop, and batter oozed over the sides onto the counter. “I’m your big brother. You’re supposed to think of me fondly. Don’t you know I’ve got people all over the place who admire the hell out of me?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Yeah, well they don’t know you snore like a freight train and that you picked your nose when you were a kid.”

He shook his head. Leave it to Kate to cut right to the heart of things and knock his sometimes over-inflated ego down to the size of a sunflower seed.

“So what did you do?” she asked again.

“Nothing.”

Kate threw the pastry tube down on the counter. “All right. That’s it. I’m calling her.” She grabbed her cell from the pocket of her apron.

The bell over the door jingled. He looked up and placed his hand over Kate’s. “No need,” he said, as Emma walked into the bakery, her arms loaded down with books and a laptop. His father got up to greet her and she gave his dad an easy smile that pumped blood faster through Dean’s heart.

He watched as she set her books down, slid her coat down her arms, then scooted up onto a bistro chair.

“Oh goody.” Kate dropped her cell back into the pocket of her apron. “Now I can ask her in person.”

Dean gave his sister his bullshit glare, the one he used on the field when he tried to mess with someone’s concentration. “Let it go, Kate. Believe me, the last name on earth she wants to hear is mine.”

“Then maybe you should go hide in the storeroom until she leaves. Take the cowardly route.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“But the thought crossed your mind.”

“No.” Yes.

“What is the big deal, Dean?”

“She hates me.”

“ ‘Hate’ is a strong word. Maybe she just thinks you’re pond scum.”

“Nope.” He shoved the tools he’d been working with off the counter and into the stainless sink.

“Sounds serious.” Kate tossed a glance at Emma, who hadn’t noticed them yet. Then his sister dug her icing-coated fingers into his sleeve, dragged him into the office, and shut the door. She folded her arms. “So what’s going on between the two of you?”

“Like you don’t know? You’re her friend. I’m sure she’s already told you everything.”

“Apparently you don’t know Emma as well as you think you do. She doesn’t talk much about her personal life.”

“She doesn’t talk much or at all?”

“Much. We talk about general girl stuff. But believe me, your name has not come up in conversation once. And if I wasn’t your sister and didn’t see the way you two look at each other, I’d be clueless as to what’s got your tighty-whiteys in a twist.”

“Do you know who her mother is?”

“Everyone knows who her mother is, Dean. And nobody cares. Emma is a nice person. She’s a good friend. And she’s done a lot for the kids in this community. How could you not love her?”

He wasn’t sure he didn’t.

Last night after she’d left, his instinct had been to go after her, wrap her in his arms, and kiss away her doubt. He always got his way and he’d initially thought he could sway her into his way of thinking. But Emma was too smart to be sweet-talked into something she didn’t believe or didn’t want to do.

“If she doesn’t talk about her personal life much then I’m not going to betray her privacy and talk about anything between me and her,” he said to Kate.

“Sure.” Kate smacked him in the arm. “Be respectful for the first time in your life.” Then Kate gasped and backed up a step. “Oh my God, you’re in love with her.”

“Come on, you know me better than that. I don’t do love.” So what was that crazy thing going on in his chest?

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what I thought and look what happened to me.
Pffft.
Crazy in love. Go figure.”

“This has nothing to do with love, Kate. Something happened. A… misunderstanding. That’s all.”

Kate folded her arms across her flour-splattered apron and stared up at him for a good long, uncomfortable, mom-like moment. Then she raised her hands and shook her head. “I don’t want to know. The least you can do is apologize.” She opened the office door, went to the display case, slid a slice of mocha cheesecake onto a plate, and handed it to him with a cup of coffee.

“Here.” She handed him the food. “This is her absolute favorite. She can hardly hate you if you show up with a peace offering.”

He doubted even a truckload of cheesecake would get him back in her good graces. But he took the order anyway.

Emma looked up as he approached her table.

“Hi.” Holy crap. He felt like a middle-schooler with a crush.

“Hi.”

“I brought you your favorite.” He set the dish and cup down and slid a fork and napkin beside the plate.

“Thanks.”

Even in a simple pair of jeans and a pullover, she looked so amazing his eyes stung. When a
thanks
was all she offered, he sat down in the chair across from her. He didn’t care that his sister stood behind the counter glaring at him like he was plotting to blow up the Sugar Shack. Or that his father and his hunting entourage were two tables away chatting about the ten-point buck they’d get next season.

He needed to make things right with Emma.

“So is this how it’s going to be between us now, Em? Brief pleasantries as if we’re strangers?” God, he hoped not.

“You won’t be here long.” She pushed aside her classroom planner and lifted the coffee cup to her beautiful mouth. Her soft lips pursed over the rim as she took a sip before she returned the cup to the table. “So I’d say that should work for the duration.”

“I don’t want it to be this way, honey. I’m sorry. For whatever it is you think I did or said or didn’t do, I’m truly sorry.”

One slight shoulder lifted beneath the soft pink sweater. “I appreciate that.”

“But?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” She leaned back and twisted the napkin in her hands. “I’ve forgiven myself for being so foolish back then. And I’ve forgiven myself for repeating my mistakes.”

“You mean for being with me?”

“Yes.”

That single word shoved a fist inside his chest, grabbed his heart, and yanked.

“I’m moving forward, Dean. I’m done with looking into my past and beating myself up over something that happened a lifetime ago.” She crumpled the napkin into a ball.

He placed his hand over the top of hers. Her fingers were cool beneath his touch. “Then why won’t you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. Besides, I’m just too busy to dwell on the negative.” She slipped her hand from beneath his. “I’m moving into a new chapter of my life. Yesterday I drove to Missoula and spent the entire afternoon at the Academy for Developmental Needs. I had the most unbelievable day. I learned at least three new methods of teaching, and half a dozen games that instill communication. I even learned some sign language.”

“That’s great.” The excitement dancing in her amazing eyes made him smile.

“The first thing I did when I got to school today was to move Brenden’s table up to the front of the class.” She folded her hands together and leaned forward. “I need him to be closer so I can give him more attention and teach him what I learned. So far, so good. By the end of the day he signed goodbye to me.” She leaned back in the chair and her hand went to her chest. “It made me cry.”

He wished he could reach across the table and hug her. “Like I said the day I brought the cupcakes to your class, you’re in the right place at the right time.”

“I am. I’m in no-big-deal Deer Lick, Montana. And I’m responsible for helping a little boy learn to cope with a great big world. He needs me.” She leaned forward again, reached across the table, and squeezed his hand. The warmth of her fingers flowed straight to his heart. “You, on the other hand, will head back to your team and you’ll forget about me before your boots even hit Texas soil.”

“I’d never forget about you, Emma.”

“But you
will
leave.”

He glanced out the window to the piles of snow lining both sides of the street, to the gray sky. He couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t lie. Not to her. And not to himself. Because as important as her teaching was to her, his career was just as important to him. “Yes. I will leave.”

“And that’s exactly what you should do.” She gave his hand a dismissive pat. “You have a spectacular life and you should be excited to get back to it as soon as possible.”