Emilie's Christmas Love (12 page)

Joda turned to look at him, as though noticing him for the first time. "It's for the teething. It'll help her rest and ease her pain."

Nick wasn’t happy with that answer. "Okay. What is it?"

Joda glared at him. "You're going to have to learn to trust." She touched a gnarled hand to his face. "You are very handsome, but cynical, I think. That will not do here."

Emilie sniffed the concoction in the cup and smiled at Nick to reassure him. "It's only a little chamomile. It won't hurt her and it will help settle her down."

Her aunt grinned and slapped Nick's cheek lightly. "There! You understand now! You have no faith!"

"Joda" Emilie warned quietly, willing her aunt to remember the plan for adopting Amber.

"Bah!" Her aunt waved a hand at them both. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight!"

When the older woman had left the room, Emilie looked at Nick. "I won't let her drink the tea if you don't want her to. My aunt can be a little overwhelming when she knows that she's right, which is most of the time, at least about herbs and such."

Nick sat down on the edge of one of the big chairs, refusing to allow himself the comfort of sitting back in the plush depths. "If it'll help," he allowed with a shrug. "And if she'll drink it."

Emilie put the cup to Amber's lips and she drank the concoction without any hesitation. She settled back against Emilie and smiled at her uncle in the firelight.

"I know Aunt Joda’s ways may seem . . . odd," Emilie tried to explain. "She’s an herbalist. She’s spent most of her life studying plants and medicines. She's helped a lot of people in town."

"Amber seems to be one of them." Nick watched his niece relax.

"What happened?" Emilie wondered.

"We got thrown out of the motel!" Adam piped in.

Nick raked his hands through his hair in frustration. "Amber wouldn't stop crying. The people in the room next to us complained. I was going to take her to the emergency room to see what they could do for her, but there was a big accident on the Interstate, dozens of people hurt. They wouldn't have been able to see her for hours."

"So, you got thrown out of the motel," Emilie simplified back down to Adam's explanation.

"Yeah, I guess we did."

"And we didn't have any place else to go," Adam continued. "So we came here."

He bounced a little on the thick chair beneath him then grinned up at Emilie.

"I didn't know what else to do," Nick admitted slowly.

"I know that must be true or I'm sure you wouldn't be here," Emilie replied.

"I—"

"Never mind," she said with a wave of her hand, very much like her aunt. "Let's go into the kitchen and have some hot chocolate, shall we?"

"Yes!" Adam agreed readily. "Can I ride the lions?"

"After hot chocolate," Emilie told him, picking up the baby, and starting towards the kitchen. She glanced at Nick's dark face. "If your uncle says it's okay."

By the time Adam had explored the kitchen and drank his hot chocolate, though, he was visibly drooping. His little head was nodding and his eyes were barely open.

Amber had finally fallen asleep on Nick's shoulder as Emilie made the hot chocolate. The relief he felt at the little girl resting made Aunt Joda seem more like a saint and less like a witch.

"Whatever that stuff is," Nick acknowledged quietly. "I want a prescription."

"I'm sure she'll be pleased to hear it," Emilie lied, knowing her aunt would probably ignore any attempt he made to thank her. "She loves to convert the unbelievers!"

"So I've heard," Nick admitted

A screen came down over Emilie's bright eyes. "I'm sure," she answered briefly. "There are rooms ready for the children upstairs." They both looked at Adam, who'd fallen asleep with his head on his knees. "I could bring Amber if you can bring Adam."

Nick looked at her when he handed her the baby. "I'm sorry, Emilie, I didn't mean—"

"Never mind," she whispered, pressing the baby's head against her chest. "Follow me."

They went slowly up the long stairs with their precious burdens. Emilie was glad that she'd aired out the two rooms on the off chance that he might accept her offer. She laid Amber down in the beautiful crib with the brass fittings and the lacy comforter. When Emilie was sure that she was still asleep, she took Nick to the adjoining room where he laid Adam down in the big bed.

"Your room is through here," she told him quietly.

"We have to talk, Emilie." Nick stopped her.

"All right. We'll go back down to the sitting room."

"We could stay up here," he offered. "It wouldn't matter and you wouldn't have to walk back down the stairs. I know your leg hurts you."

Emilie's head came up on the sound of pity in his voice, however well-meaning. She stared hard at him in the dim stillness. The wind threw itself against the hundred-year-old house around them.

Nick knew they said in town that old Jacque de Ferrier had made a deal with the devil to find the gold that had established the family there on the mountain. Looking into the angry gaze of Jacque's great-granddaughter, it was easy to understand where they'd got the idea. Surely the devil had put that emerald fire in her eyes.

She didn't say a word to him, though. Just turned around and walked back down the long stairway, her hand following the wide, wood rail that led to the floor.

Nick had no choice but to follow her. He couldn't find the right words when he talked to her. Maybe that was why he constantly found himself apologizing. It was awkward and irritating.

When he was with her, he felt as though he hovered somewhere between being a jerk and an idiot. He couldn't believe he'd asked her out on a date! What a fiasco that would have been! He was glad that she had turned him down.

Emilie walked woodenly toward the kitchen where the light still burned. Fury, embarrassment, and fear made her back as straight as a rail and kept her gaze locked in front of her.

How dare he suggest that she couldn't get up and down her own stairs as often as she wanted or needed? Was she limping unduly? Did she seem weak or unable to be a mother?

Had fate put him and the children back in her life, given her another chance, only to laugh in her face?

Nick sat down in the chair he'd vacated at the wood table when they’d reached the kitchen. He thought she was going to do the same. Instead, she picked up a few of the hot chocolate cups and walked with them to the sink.

"Emilie," he began then stopped. "Can I help?"

"I can do this by myself," she retorted angrily. "I'm not a cripple!"

"I didn't suggest that you were," he tried to explain. "I meant—"

"I
know
what you meant." She picked up the rest of the cups and the hot chocolate pot. "Do you think you're the first one to look at me and see that I limp across a room?"

Nick rubbed his hand over his face. It had been a long, hard day. He was exhausted and close to being out of patience for the rest of the year. He would have liked to have taken the kids and walked out of the house. The truth was that they'd either have to spend the night in the car or in the hospital emergency room if he did that.

If it had only been him, he would have done it. With Amber and Adam, it was different.

"Look, I didn't mean to sound like you couldn't walk up and down the stairs."

"Thank you!" She slammed the hot chocolate pot into the sink and ran water into it.

"You don't have to be so touchy about it!"  

"
Touchy
?" She stalked back to where he sat at the table. "Are you saying that I'm overly sensitive about my disability?"

He frowned, looking up at her. "I’m sorry, Emilie!"

She started to speak then turned around and stormed back across the room, furiously washing the cups and spoons. When she was finished, she scrubbed vigorously at the pot.

"Emilie!" He walked over to the sink and stood behind her. "Will you . . . will you please sit down a minute and talk to me?"

"I think we've said enough for one night." 

"We haven't said anything," he reminded her. "We need to talk about this!"

"There's nothing else to say.”

"If you want I’ll get the kids and leave."

She turned around, surprised to find him close to her. "I didn't say that!"

He shrugged. "If we can't sort through this mess and I've only been here an hour, how will you put up with us for two weeks?"

"I'm sorry." She looked down at her wet hands. "I don't like people to imply that I can't do things."

"I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't like people to imply that about me either. Can we start again?"

"Please." She held out her hand to him.

He looked down into her face, scrubbed clean of the make up she'd been wearing earlier that evening. She was wearing a plain white robe with a little lacy collar that framed her face. Her hair was held back from her face with a white headband.

Emilie had a fey quality about her that made her seem unreal, yet tantalizing. She was out of reach, at least out of
his
reach.

He took her warm hand in his and squeezed a little, mindful of the frail strength that lay in that clasp. "Thank you."

They sat at the table across from each other. She watched his face while he explained what had happened, and about how long it would take to finish their house.

Emilie felt foolish that she had allowed his words to bother her. Certainly people had said much worse. The difference was that she cared what this man thought about her.

It was only because it was his decision about who could adopt Amber, she told herself. She had to show him that she was strong and self-reliant. She didn’t need a man in her life to be a good mother.

She leaned on her hand and listened to him talk about asbestos and the children, looking at his dark eyes, tracing the dark shadow that had grown along his jaw line with her eyes. She loved his voice.

Recalling those few strange, exciting moments when their gazes had locked at the auditorium, she pulled herself upright and clasped her hands tightly before her on the table.

Had it only been her? Had he noticed that compelling tension between them? Or had it simply been her imagination?

Nick felt her withdrawal. It was like a splash of cold water, reminding him that he had to watch his step with her. It would be too easy to let those dark feelings he had for her surface and ruin everything for the kids.

"I don't know if you celebrate Christmas," he said finally. "If not, the kids and I can make ourselves scarce over the holiday. I imagine you have people here anyway." He glanced around the huge, dimly-lit kitchen. "Family, or someone."

She shook her head. "There's only Aunt Joda and me. The Ferriers weren't prolific."

"Well, we'll try not to get in your way. I really appreciate your help, Emilie. You don't know me and I wasn't exactly nice about you suggesting it in the first place."

She drew in breath as though she was about to dive underwater. "We do celebrate Christmas and you won't be in the way. It's been years since we had overnight visitors in the house. It was built for that . . . and a big family."

She felt his eyes on her face as she finished speaking and ran her hand nervously through her hair. When he looked at her like that, she couldn't think. Her breathing became difficult.

It was nerves, she told herself. It all rested on this man. Whatever he thought of her made the difference between Amber going to some strange, if deserving, couple—or staying with her.

Nick shook himself and looked at the polished table top instead of her face. He was tired, he rationalized. It would be better tomorrow.

"I've kept you up long enough," he said. "I'm sorry that we got here so late and woke you up."

"I wasn't asleep," she answered. "I was paying bills. I guess this means I don't have to mail your check to you."

Oh, that was wonderful
. Couldn't she hold even one conversation with him without sounding like a moron?

He grinned. "And I won't have to go so far to fix your car for a couple of weeks."

Emilie stood slowly, trying hard not to put her weight on her bad leg. If it gave out on her in front of him after her tirade earlier, she would be humiliated. She had to be full of energy. Show him that she was up to the challenge he certainly knew came with taking care of a child.

Nick watched her covertly, knowing already that she wouldn't like the idea that he was watching her as she tried to move away from the table. He frowned and thrust his hands into the pockets of his jeans to remind himself that she wouldn't welcome even his offer of help.

He didn't know if he'd ever met someone as stubborn as Emilie. Or someone as eager to prove that she could do it all. No matter what the personal cost. 

Emilie walked slowly, carefully, aware of not being alone as she managed to reach the doorway. "I'll take you up to your room."

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and followed her.

Emilie's foot came down on a piece of loose carpet at the bottom of the stairs. Her bad leg bent forward, giving out under her. She fell hard toward the floor.

Nick reached for her, his hands coming around her hips and swinging her back hard against his chest.

She heard a dull thud when she hit him. He managed not to lose his balance. Only she could be awkward enough for that. She railed against herself bitterly as she rested against him.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly from above her head.

"I'm fine." She could feel his heart beating quickly against her back. His breath had stirred the tendrils of hair at her ear. His hands still held her tightly at her hips. Her feet barely touched the floor.

"Are
you
all right?" He didn't reply or move to release her.

Nick closed his eyes on the swift and powerful surge of energy that washed through him. Holding her next to him was like holding an ungrounded electric wire. "Yeah," he said finally. "I'm fine."

Emilie struggled to get her feet back under her. It didn't matter. Her leg was useless. If he let her go, she would fall on the floor. There was no graceful way to simply sit down on the carpet and tell him that she'd decided to stay there for a while.