Emilie's Christmas Love (13 page)

"If you could help me sit on the stair," she had to admit to her own weakness, despising herself for it. "I don't think I can make it up right now. But in a few minutes, I should be fine."

Nick shifted her in his grasp, lifting her high against him as though she weighed nothing more than Amber. "Or I can just take you upstairs."

"That's not necessary," she responded breathily.

"I don't mind." His face was very close to hers. She was like holding a flower. She looked more substantial standing in her classroom telling him that he had ignored his nephew when he'd needed to talk about his problems.

"I need to get that rug fixed." One of her hands crept up to his shoulder. The movement brought her closer to him. She tried to look away from his dark eyes, but couldn't make her eyes focus on anything else.

"Emilie." Her name came out as a sigh. With her gentle touch on his shoulder—the soft fullness of her breast against his chest—it was like being in a dream where nothing was real and yet everything was in sharp focus. He touched his cheek against hers, inhaling her fragrance. His eyes closed against the onslaught of his senses.

Emilie's eyes fluttered shut as well. His lips whispered against her forehead. He nuzzled her ear. Her breath came lightly from between parted lips that burned to feel his against them. Her other hand slid to his neck.

"I think you should be in bed." He gazed regrettably at her inviting mouth, imagining that sweetness, but holding himself back.

"I think so." She wished she had the courage to whisper that he should be there with her. What would his response be to that invitation?

"Up we go." He dragged himself, and her, back to reality. Taking the steps carefully, he walked up with her in his arms.

Joda watched from the landing, unseen, and disappeared into the shadows.

"I'm sorry," Emilie repeated. "I always seem to fall down or start crying when I'm around you."

"Or get angry," he rejoined. "I wouldn't have thought you had a temper."

"Normally I don't. I'm not prone to emotional outbursts."

"Except around me?" He walked to the door she pointed to when they reached the landing. A shadow crossed his peripheral vision. When he looked, no one was there.

"What is it?" Emilie whispered.

"I thought I saw someone," he replied. "I'll check in on the kids in a minute."

"It was probably Aunt Joda," she said. "She wanders the house at night and sleeps during the day for the most part."

"She's—"

"Strange." Emilie finished for him. “All the Ferriers are strange. It comes with the territory.”

He caught her eye as he opened her door and walked into her bedroom. "I wouldn't have said that."

"You’d be too polite." She looked around her room, glad that it wasn't a mess. The light was still on at her writing desk, casting the drapery-swathed bed into a soft haze.

"I'm never polite," he reminded her. "Haven't you noticed? It's one of my failings."

She shrugged as he set her down on the big bed. "I hadn't noticed."

"Thanks for letting us stay here, Emilie," he said again. "Goodnight."

"Your room is—"

"Close to the kids?" he guessed.

She nodded. "Thank you for your help."

"It was nothing."

It was nothing.
He closed the door to her room behind him.
If you classified nothing as holding something you wanted but knew you couldn't have so close that you could kiss her and yet didn't dare. If you called torture nothing, it was nothing.

"Your room is this way." Joda suddenly appeared beside him. She nodded toward the dark part of the long hall and waited for him to walk away from Emilie's door.

"Thanks." He wasn’t sure what to say to her. "Amber's resting a lot easier."

Joda tossed her head. "So she should be."

"I appreciate your help with her."

"Here's your room." She opened the first door down from the children's rooms. "There are thirty- two rooms in this house. Mind, you don't lose your way."

"I'll be careful.”

"See you do. She needs you, but she'll never admit it, you know. Ferrier pride."

He nodded, trying to understand the old woman's rambling. "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

She left him at the door. "Good. Rest easy then."

"I will." When he looked again, he was alone. The wind whispered down the empty hallway and snow began to pelt the windows. He opened the door to his bedroom and walked inside.

Chapter Eight

Nick knew he wouldn't sleep. It was an old house with all the usual old house noises. He was surprised when his head hit the pillow and he passed out. When he opened his eyes again, there was bright sunshine streaming through the huge double windows that fronted his bed.

For an instant, he stood at those windows, looking at the craggy face of the mountain that rose up from behind the house. Snow had softened that rugged landscape, but the slope of the mountain was still visible, dark brown against the white powder that had fallen during the night. Snow devils whirled across the expanse that was open from the gardens at the base of the house to the huge old trees at the foot of the mountain peak.

He realized that Amber must have slept through the night as well, despite the fact that it was a strange house and a new bed.

Where had that elaborate crib come from? Had that been Emilie's royal crib? It was certainly fit for a princess and heir to the family fortune.

He padded barefoot on the plush, wool carpet through the adjoining bathroom and into Amber's room. Sunlight touched the brass fittings on the crib, turning them to gold. Then Nick realized that the crib was empty.

He panicked. He searched behind the heavy draperies at the bay window, but Amber wasn't hiding there. She’d learned how to climb out of her small crib at home. He didn't think she'd be able to escape the bigger crib Emilie had laid her in last night.

He checked in the bathroom with the rose-colored marble, the huge shower, and adjoining tub big enough for two or three people. She wasn't there.

Going back into the bedroom, he looked through the empty closet and the heavy wood toy chest. The only thing he could find was her turtle. He couldn't believe that she'd left the room without her turtle. She went everywhere with that toy. She wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat, without Tommy.

The panic he told himself he shouldn't feel, grabbed hold of his throat, and threatened to wrestle him to the floor.

He ran out into the hallway. The dark wood panels looked much different in the sunlight that filtered in from the windows downstairs. Glancing at the banister, his heart in his throat, he wondered if the rails were spaced close enough together that she couldn't slip through them.

He peered over the rail and relaxed when he didn't see her little body on the rose-colored marble tiles in the huge foyer.

Where was she?

He would've turned back and gone into Adam's room, thinking she might have found her way to where her brother slept, but at that moment the front door opened, and Adam burst into the foyer from the front door.

"That was so cool, Miss Ferrier!" He was dressed in his jacket and jeans and was covered in snow.

"I think you should call me Emilie." She was carrying Amber. Nick relaxed against the sturdy rail and surreptitiously watched the trio together.

They were all covered in so much snow, they resembled snowmen. They were rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed as they sat down in the foyer to remove all their layers of wet clothes.

"Will I still have to call you Miss Ferrier at school?" Adam took off his boots.

"I'm afraid so, but you won't be at school for the next two weeks so you won't have to worry about it until we go back. Here, you can call me Emilie, and I'll call you Jake."

"Jake!" Adam laughed. "That's not my name!"

Emilie helped Amber out of the last of her outer clothes, the little girl stood as complacent and unmoving as a statue to accommodate her.

How she managed that was anyone's guess, Nick thought. Amber usually squirmed and fussed the whole time.

"That's true," Emilie replied. "If I have a different name when I'm not at school, I think you should have a different name, too."

Adam thought about her words. "So, at school you'll call me Adam, and at home, you'll call me Jake?"

"Yep." Emilie took off her own boots and jacket.

"What about Amber? Doesn't she need two names, too?"

Emilie fluffed the little girl's flattened curls and Amber laughed up at her. "No, she's not in school yet. When she goes to school, we can come up with another name for her too."

"So then she can call you Emilie at home, and Miss Ferrier at school?"

"That's right! How about some hot chocolate to warm up? My hands are freezing!"

"No wonder! You made an awesome snow dog!"

She rumpled his damp hair. "Your snowman needed a dog so he wouldn't be out there all alone."

Adam laughed and Amber giggled with him.

Nick cleared his throat. The three of them looked up at once.

"Hi, Uncle Nick!" Adam yelled. "You won't believe what we were doing!"

"Where have you been?" Nick hated feeling like a warden, but he’d been worried.

"We were outside,” Adam said. “With Emilie.”

"You could have told me that you were taking Amber out," he said to Adam—and Emilie. "I was worried when I got up and she wasn't sleeping in her crib."

Emilie and Adam exchanged glances. "Uncle Nick," Adam said in his high pitched voice. "Amber
never
sleeps late. You know that!”

"I'm sorry." Emilie apologized at once. "She woke up and you were still sleeping. I thought I’d let you sleep late.”

"What time is it?" Nick glanced at his watch. It was nearly noon!

The trio of wrongdoers on the ground level stared up at him, waiting for absolution or punishment.

He couldn't keep a straight face for long against the onslaught of those faces. "I'm starving. How about breakfast?"

Adam grimaced. "We had breakfast hours ago!"

"I could make you breakfast," Emilie offered.

"Emilie says we can go out back and cut a Christmas tree!" Adam told him excitedly.

"Emilie?" Nick frowned.

Adam grinned. "She said I could call her Emilie when I'm not in school. She's going to call me Jake."

Nick shook his head. "I need to get my shoes."

"Breakfast?" Emilie asked as he turned back toward his room.

"I don't expect you to wait on us, Emilie," he said. "We can take care of ourselves."

It was too late by the time he'd put on his shoes and found the kitchen again. Emilie was halfway through muffins, making waffles and warming the griddle for eggs.

"How do you like your eggs?" she asked.

Amber was in a highchair at the table eating a grilled cheese sandwich and drinking milk from a cup with two handles and a spill-proof top. Adam was slurping hot chocolate and eating a muffin and a sandwich at the same time.

Nick sat down at the table, amazed and frightened. How had she done it all? He rubbed his hand against his jaw and realized that he was unshaven and his hair was probably standing up on his head. Somewhere he'd lost control of the situation.

"Coffee's fine," he said in a shaky voice. "I can get it, Emilie. I'm not totally useless."

"I don't mind." She put a big cup in front of him and filled it with coffee.

Nick tried to drink his coffee, enticed repeatedly to try a muffin. He ended up eating muffins and two waffles as well as some juice and a sandwich.

He looked up at Emilie as she cleaned Amber's hands with a damp cloth. Amber was laughing and chattering at her.

This couldn't go on. He wouldn't be able to walk out of the house after two weeks of eating that way and the kids wouldn't want to leave what was quickly becoming a sort of Disney World for them.

"Can I go look at some stuff?" Adam asked when he was done eating.

"May I." Emilie corrected automatically.

Adam frowned at her. Emilie frowned back.

"
May
I go and look at some stuff?"

"Sure, Jake.”

"Wait a minute," Nick intervened. "You can't walk around a house this size until you know your way around."

"Emilie took us around this morning while you were sleeping, Uncle Nick," Adam informed him. "She put up a little, tiny map at each door so that I couldn't get lost."

Nick looked at the gesture Adam was making showing him how small the map was at each door. He drew in a deep breath.

"Then I guess you can go look around," he compromised, taking Amber out of her chair. "You can take Amber with you to explore for a few minutes while I talk to Emilie."

"Do I have to?" Adam whined.

"Yes," Nick told him. "Unless you want to stay here with her."

"Okay." 

When they were gone, Emilie sat down at the table with a cup of coffee, waiting for whatever Nick was going to say. She could tell he was upset but she wasn't sure why. She'd done the best she could. What had she done wrong?

"Emilie," he began finally, "this can't work."

"What?" She'd cooked and taken care of the children and let him sleep late. What did he want from her?

"You can't do everything for us while we're here! I didn't ask to stay with you so that you could have three people to take care of. I know you have a life of your own. I'm sure you have other things to do."

She frowned and looked away from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take over."

"You didn't take over." He hated the look on her face. Still, he felt he had to make his point. "I'm just used to being in charge, I guess." 

"I know I should have told you about taking the kids out."

"Next time, you
could
leave a note."

"And I didn't mean to make decisions for you."

"It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment. You've taken care of more kids than I will in my lifetime, I hope."

She looked up at him and bit her lip. "You're not just saying that? I don't mean to undermine your authority or anything. I know you're like their father."