Family for Keeps & Sadie's Hero (28 page)

“Yes. That was the year you were Mary.”

“I didn’t know you came. I thought you couldn’t make it.”

“I was in the back and had to leave right after the performance, but I was there to see you woo the audience.”

Sadie flushed, never expecting to hear those words from her father. She slanted a look at him and wondered what had happened to him. He didn’t compliment. She continued to fill cups with punch, deciding she had better not say anything about this out-of-character action. Instead, she basked in the praise.

“Can I get two glasses for me and your mom?”

“Yes,” she said, quickly pouring for her father.

“We’re going to leave, but we’ll see you tomorrow. Invite your young man if you want, Sadie. I like him.”

Her father left her staring at his retreating figure, stunned at what had just transpired.

“Miss Spencer, I’m thirsty,” Joey said, thrusting a cup toward her.

“Oh, sorry.” She quickly refilled his glass, then finished serving the rest of the lineup.

When she was through, she poured herself and Andrew a cup and headed toward him. Reverend Littleton paused beside Andrew, said a few words, then moved on toward a group of men near Andrew. He watched the reverend progress through the crowd, a thoughtful expression on his face.

As Sadie neared Andrew, their gazes locked, and she felt as though the rest of the people vanished, leaving only her and Andrew in the hall. She remembered her father’s words.
Your young man.
Suddenly she realized she wished that were true. She liked Andrew, too, much more than she should. She was afraid she was even falling in love with him.

“What did the reverend want?”

“That he hoped to see me at church.”

“I hope you’re thirsty.” She handed Andrew his cup, not sure what to say. The fact she was falling in love wiped everything from her mind but the man before her.

“I saw your parents sneaking out of here.”

Sadie glanced toward the double doors and visualized her and Andrew doing the same. She wanted to be alone with him to explore this new revelation. “Mom says Dad is trying to be more responsive to her needs. She thinks her leaving him really shook him up.”

“I’m glad it’s working out for them.”

“So am I. I hated the idea of them divorcing.”

“That seems to be the trend.”

“Not in my book. My word means a lot to me. If I pledged myself to another, I would want it to be for life.” She thought about her growing feelings for Andrew and panic took hold. If she fell totally and completely in love with him, she could never see herself in a relationship with another man—even if Andrew didn’t return her love. She needed to back away from him before it was too late.

“Your pageant was a success.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Yes, you could have. You’re a very capable woman.”

She warmed under his compliment. She was capable and independent, but she realized she’d enjoyed working on the pageant these past few weekends with Andrew, sharing duties, brainstorming the best way to do something. It was nice not being alone for once.

“I’m glad it’s over with. I intend to relax for the rest of my Christmas vacation. The end of the semester at school and all the holiday preparations have exhausted me. Ready to leave?”

“Yes. I like the idea of relaxing.” Andrew tossed down the rest of the punch, then took her cup and threw both cups away.

As they made their way toward the door, Sadie asked, “Is my hearing correct? You said you like the idea of relaxing?”

He placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her from the recreational hall. “Yes, you heard me. You must be rubbing off on me.”

“Don’t say that too loud. Someone might think you went off the deep end.”

“If I do, you’re going with me.” Clasping her hand, he stepped into the night.

Large snowflakes swirled on the light breeze, dancing in the lights in the parking lot. “We might have a white Christmas! It’s been years since we have.” She breathed in the crisp, cold air laced with the scent of burning wood.

“This might spoil some people’s plans.”

“I don’t think it will snow much, and I doubt the children will much care. They’ll be having too much fun, sledding and building snowmen.”

“Is that what you did as a little girl?”

“Sure. Didn’t—”

Andrew shook his head. “Remember, I grew up in New Orleans. I don’t remember seeing snow until I moved here.”

“I like snow as a change of pace in the winter, but I wouldn’t want to live too much farther north. I want my snow to fall, then melt in a few days.” Sadie emerged from the overhang and turned her face toward the heavens, relishing the feel of snowflakes melting on her cheeks.

Andrew came up behind her and grasped her shoulders. “I still haven’t grown accustomed to the cold weather. Let’s get in the car before I freeze.”

“It would have helped if you had worn a coat.” She peered at him, dressed in a nice pair of black slacks with a black turtleneck and a multicolored wool sweater.

“It wasn’t snowing when I left my house.”

“Don’t you listen to the weather?”

“Nope. I usually don’t have the time. Besides, I figure what’s going to happen will happen. So many times the predictions weren’t right that I gave up on believing them.”

“True. But that’s Oklahoma weather for you. It’s hard to predict.”

“Then why listen?”

She shrugged, starting toward his car. “Habit.”

“Do you do a lot of things out of habit?”

“I wouldn’t say a lot. I like to be spontaneous.”

Andrew chuckled. “I can vouch for that.”

“Since you don’t have a spontaneous bone in your body—”

“Hey, I think I resent that. I can go with the flow with the best of them.”

“Oh, please, Andrew. Only when it’s going your way.”

He opened the passenger door for Sadie. “I will admit I prefer being in control to going with the flow.”

She waited until he rounded the front of the car and slid behind the wheel before speaking. “You probably have a five-year plan that you haven’t wavered from since you came up with it.”

“What’s wrong with having goals?” He started the engine and slowly backed out of the parking space.

“Nothing. Goals are fine so long as you keep them in perspective. Life happens. Changes occur.”

“I know that. I met you, and you were nowhere in my five-year plan.”

A sudden silence fell between them, thick and heavy. Sadie didn’t know what to say to that revelation, and from the frown on his face, she was sure Andrew hadn’t meant to admit something like that to her.

“I’m not sure how to take that,” she finally said.

“It’s a compliment. I don’t allow many things to affect my five-year plan.”

“And I do?”

“You’ve made me question my path, my goals.”

“What conclusions have you come to?”

“The jury is still out.”

The temperature in the car soared, and it had nothing to do with the heater. Hope blossomed in Sadie’s heart, and for a moment she allowed it to grow. But then her doubts began to surface. She didn’t think she wanted to be responsible for anyone changing the direction of his life. That put too much of a burden on her.

“I enjoyed going with you to church tonight. Reverend Littleton has a gift for inspiring others.” Andrew pulled into her driveway.

“I love the early Christmas Eve service. The children take such a big part in it.”

“I like the idea of a birthday celebration afterward. Nice way of reminding the children and adults why we celebrate Christmas.”

“It’s still early. Do you want to come in for some coffee—the decaf kind?”

“Love to.”

When Sadie entered her house, the scent of pine and cinnamon assailed her. Her live tree dominated the living room, and the aroma from baking cookies hung in the air. She plugged in the lights before heading for the kitchen to make the coffee. Andrew followed.

“Your home is so inviting.”

“I love to decorate. I probably go overboard.”

“You think?” Andrew scanned the kitchen, filled with Christmas items, from the towels hanging on the stove to the canisters on the counter to the Christmas cards on the refrigerator.

“Okay. I do go overboard. But in my defense, it’s hard not to get wrapped up in the holidays with the students I teach. A lot of the ornaments on the tree are made by them. Every year when I put them up, I think about the students who made them. To me it’s like a photo album of memories. Do you have a tree?”

“No. I’m not home much to enjoy it.”

His words evoked a sadness in Sadie that she couldn’t shake. She wanted to put her arms around him and tell him this Christmas he wasn’t alone. Instead she prepared the coffee, her hands trembling, her throat tight. Andrew had lost his sense of family and home. The day of the fire, his house was not the only thing destroyed.

Dear Lord, help me to guide him back to You. He needs You. He needs to believe in belonging again.

The aroma of brewing coffee spiced the air, lending a homey warmth to the room. Sadie faced Andrew, leaning against the counter. Her smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. “If I had known that, Andrew Knight, I would have brought a tree to your house and helped you put it up.”

“A pine without any decoration would have looked strange in the middle of my living room.”

“You don’t have any?”

He shook his head.

Sadie knew then what she would give him for Christmas, in addition to the mystery she had bought him. “Then you can enjoy my tree tonight and my parents’ tomorrow. They wanted you to come to dinner. I think my father will behave this time.”

“Are you gonna be there?” His eyes crinkled in a smile.

“Yes, and I would love for you to join us.”

“Then in that case, I will.”

“Good.” Sadie twisted to pour two cups of coffee, then handed one to Andrew. “Let’s sit in the living room.”

She opened the blinds over the French doors that led to the patio so they could watch the snow fall. With all the lights out except those on the Christmas tree, the room was dim and cozy, a magical feel to the atmosphere. Sadie sat next to Andrew on the sofa and let the silence between them lengthen.

“Do you have trouble driving in the snow?” she finally asked as the white on the ground deepened.

“No. I may be from New Orleans, but I manage to get around okay. In fact, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning to go over to your parents.”

“I appreciate that. I may be from here, but I don’t do well driving in the snow. I got stuck once on a hill. My car slid all the way down and into a ditch. I had to abandon it and walk to a store to call my father to come rescue me.” The memory blazed across her mind, reminding her of yet another incident where she hadn’t quite lived up to what her father had thought she should be able to do. He hadn’t been pleased that she had interrupted his writing time.

“That can happen to anyone.”

“Yes, I suppose it could,” she murmured, pushing the memory into the background. “But still you’d better not stay too long. I don’t think I could rescue you.”

“I think you could do anything you set your heart to.”

Sadie placed her half empty mug on a coaster on the coffee table. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m still not gonna get out in this weather to tow you out of a ditch.”

“Chicken.”

She looked him directly in the eye. “Yes, and proud of it.”

His laughter wove its magic about her. In that moment she knew the possibility she was in love with him was a reality. She also realized her heart would probably be broken by this man.

He put his cup down, too. “I think I’d better go. I wouldn’t want to be tempted—to call you if I needed to be pulled out of a ditch.”

She rose at the same time he did. They stood a foot apart between the sofa and the coffee table with little maneuvering room. “I—” She swallowed several times. “Will you go with me to the teacher banquet in a few weeks?”

“The one where they announce the teacher of the year for your school district?”

She nodded, acutely aware of the man so close she could reach out and touch the lines of his face.

“I’d love to. And when you win I intend to embarrass you with my applause.”

A blush heated her cheeks. “I might not win. There are some good teachers up for the honor.”

He moved closer and clasped her upper arms, his fingers rubbing circles. “If you don’t win, that’s their loss.”

She thought for a moment he was going to kiss her, but instead he squeezed by her and walked toward the front door. On the porch he stopped and glanced at her.

“Drive safely, and call me when you get home.”

His eyes widened for a few seconds. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.”

“Then there’s a first time for everything.”

She watched him get into his car and pull out of the driveway. She waved to him, then waited until he was at the end of her street before she went into her warm house. She leaned against the front door and closed her eyes, imagining him with the snow falling around him, his footprints to his car marring the pristine white landscape.

She wanted him in her life. Would he disappear like his footprints in the continuing snowfall? She felt her heart crack with the answer.

“I
should have realized you had an ulterior motive when you insisted I bring my heavy coat.” In Sadie’s parents’ foyer, Andrew zipped up his jacket and fitted his gloves on his hands.

“Trust me. You’ll enjoy this. When I was growing up, I couldn’t wait for a snowfall. I got out of school, but I also got to play in the snow. Everyone should at least once in his life build a snowman.” Sadie tugged open her parents’ front door and stepped into the crisp, cold air.

“I suppose if this was summer you’d have me running around catching fireflies and putting them in a jar.”

“Oh, no. I don’t believe in that. But I do like to watch them on a summer’s night.” She paused on the porch and scanned the blanket of white, the snow muffling any sounds.

“So where are you going to build this snowman?”

She quirked a brow at Andrew. “Me?”

“You don’t seriously expect me to roll balls of snow around on the ground, do you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, all right.” He exaggerated a sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

“You don’t have to act like this will be torture.” Sadie marched down the steps and trudged into the yard. “We’ll put it here.” She bent over, packing some snow into a ball, then she began to roll it along the ground.

Andrew watched her for a good minute, then followed her lead. “I hope no one from the office drives by.”

“This is a dead-end street. I think you’re safe.”

Fifteen minutes later Sadie had the bottom part done. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she swiped her gloved hand across her brow. “I forgot how much work this was.”

“I thought we were playing.” Andrew lifted his large snowball and placed it on top of hers.

“We are. Sometimes playing can be hard work.”

“Are we through?”

“We are if you want a headless snowman. Tell you what, go inside and ask my mom for a carrot and a box of raisins. I’ll finish the last part.”

“And have your mother think I’m crazy? No, you go inside and get those things. I’ll make the last ball.”

“Mother’s used to strange requests from me.”

“Now that doesn’t surprise me.” Andrew started on the last snowball.

Sadie hurried inside and found the food she wanted to make the face. On her way out she noticed her father stacking logs in the fireplace. She loved sitting in front of a warm fire after being outside in the cold. She couldn’t wait to share the cozy moment with Andrew and give him his presents.

When she emerged from the house, she found Andrew positioning the last snowball. He stepped back to examine his efforts. Sadie stuffed the carrot and box of raisins in her pocket, then leaned over, scooped up a handful of snow and packed it into a ball. Straightening, she threw it at Andrew. The snow sputtered against his overcoat. She quickly made another and aimed for his chest. The ball hit him in the side of the head because he moved at the last moment—toward her.

“I didn’t mean to hit you in the face.”

He kept coming, his intentions to get even clearly written in his expression. “That’s okay. And I’m not gonna mean to do what I’m gonna do.”

“What’s that?” She squeaked the words and took a huge step back.

With lightning speed he closed the space between them, barreling into her and sending her into a snow pile. “This.”

His massive body covered hers for a few seconds before he rose and offered her his hand. She gathered some snow and hurled it at his chest. His eyes widened, then narrowed on her.

“I was trying to be a nice guy, but this is war. I still remember the paint incident at play rehearsal.”

Quickly he made several balls, then launched them at her. One hit her in the back as she scrambled to her feet, the other on her leg as she ran toward the porch. He stalked her, bending down every few feet to form another snowball and toss it at her. She managed to dodge the third one, but the fourth ball got her in the chest.

“Uncle! Uncle!” She glanced over her shoulder to see if Andrew had stopped his pursuit.

He was still coming with a relentlessness that must pay off in the business world.

She almost made it to the front door when he halted her escape inside.

He leaned close and whispered, “Where are you going? We haven’t finished what we started.”

“That depends on what you’re talking about.”

“The snowman. What else is there?”

His breath tickled the skin below her earlobe. She trembled, even though sweat ran in rivulets down her face. “You’re not going to throw any more snowballs?”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“A deal.” She released her hold on the doorknob and turned toward him. He smashed a ball into her face.

“You lied.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t throw a thing.”

She wiped the cold snow from her while peering at his other hand to make sure he didn’t have anything in it.

“We’re even now.” He backed away, holding his arms out. “I’ll be good unless you decide to take me on again.”

“I’ve learned my lesson. You fight dirty.”

“I fight to win. I learned that long ago, Sadie.”

His words, spoken with a hard edge, embedded coldness like a sweeping blizzard deep inside her. She needed to remember that. He was after the presidency of IFI, and nothing and no one would stand in his way. Heartache chipped at her composure.

Sadie quickly finished the snowman, arranging the carrot for the nose, two pieces of bark for the eyes and the raisins for the mouth. After sticking two broken limbs for arms into the middle snowball, she stood back and inspected their creation. He leaned to the left, and the balls weren’t proportional, but she didn’t care. Andrew and she had made it together, and even with his grumbling, she suspected he hadn’t minded. He could play when forced to.

A cold breeze sliced through her, reminding her that her backside was wet from lying in the snow. She shuddered and hugged herself. “I think I need to get inside and warm up.”

“I probably should be going soon. I certainly enjoyed the dinner. I appreciate your parents including me.”

“And this time my father behaved himself.” Sadie started for the house.

“Have you talked to him yet?”

She halted, as stiff as if a cold wind had ripped through her and frozen her. “I haven’t found the right time.”

“Don’t wait too long, Sadie.” Andrew came up beside her and took her hand. “I’ve never told anyone this, but my dad and I had a fight the evening of the fire. I ran up to my bedroom after shouting at him that I hated him. I never got to tell him I loved him, that I didn’t mean what I’d said that night. I would give anything to be able to take those words back. But I can’t, and it’s too late to ask him to forgive me.”

She grasped his other hand. “He knew you loved him and he forgave you. Children say things they don’t mean. Parents know that.”

“It doesn’t change the way I feel. There’s an emptiness inside of me that I can’t fill.”

“Seek God’s guidance. He’ll help you fill that void.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible. I’ve lived so long with this hollow feeling.” He brought their clasped hands to his chest, covering his heart.

“You’re always welcome to go with me to church. The children love you, and Reverend Littleton is a wonderful listener. Look what he was able to do with my parents.”

“Maybe your dad was ready and just needed a push.”

“And maybe you’re ready. Faith is a great healer, Andrew.”

He cupped her face. “I’ll think about it if you’ll think about talking with your father.”

“That was our deal.” Emotions swelled in her parched throat. “Now, I have something for you, and I can’t wait another minute to give it to you.”

“You got me a present?” Surprise laced his voice.

“Yes, I like to give presents to my friends.”

He slid his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small wrapped box. “So do I.”

“You got me a present?” The same surprise was in her voice as she took the gift from him.

“I started to give it to you ahead of time, but then I remembered you saying something about unwrapping presents before you should then rewrapping them so no one knew you peeked early.”

“So you took the temptation away from me. Now that’s what I call a friend.”

Inside Sadie shed her overcoat, gloves and hat, then opened the closet door to retrieve his gifts. She handed them to him. “Let’s open them in the living room.”

When Andrew stepped into the room, he froze, every line of his body tensing. His gaze was riveted to the fire raging in the hearth. Emotions flooded his face, usually so controlled.

He swung around and left. “I can’t.”

Sadie hurried after him and caught him in the foyer as he was shrugging into his coat. “I’m sorry about the fire. I wasn’t thinking. I should have said something to Dad about it. We always burn a yule log on Christmas Day.”

“And you should. It’s part of your tradition.”

“Please don’t leave just yet.”

He inhaled a deep breath and held it. “I don’t usually look back, and these past few days I’ve done more reflection than…” His voice faded into silence as he glanced away from her. “I can’t stay, Sadie. I need to be alone.”

He wrenched open the front door and walked away, leaving her staring at his retreating figure. She wanted to run after him; he had thrown up a barrier between them, erected over the years to protect his heart. Tears blurred her vision as she swung the door closed and felt the emptiness of the foyer.

Then she remembered the gift he had given her, still clasped in her hand. She carefully unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Beautiful gold earrings with hearts dangling from hoops lay nestled in red tissue. A small card was in the lid.

Sadie read the words, and her tears ran down her face.
To a lady with a heart of gold.

Andrew sought refuge in his house with not one Christmas decoration to adorn its sterile decor. He slowly turned in his living room and scanned his possessions. The oak furniture was utilitarian and simple. The tables were devoid of knickknacks. The room reminded him of any number of suites he’d stayed in while traveling for business. Nothing personal. Nothing to tie him to the place. That was always how he’d wanted it—until now. Until Sadie. Now he dreamed of more.

But he wasn’t good at relationships. For years he’d kept his emotions so tightly bottled up inside him that he’d lost the ability to express his true feelings. Because of that he certainly couldn’t see himself getting married. With Sadie that would be the only way.

His gaze fell to the two wrapped presents she’d given him. He didn’t make a move toward them, afraid to open the gifts because they would be personal—not like those he received from acquaintances and business associates. The presents on his coffee table mocked him, demanding to be opened.

He reached for them, a slight tremor in his grasp. He picked up the flatter of the two and quickly tore the paper away to reveal a mystery book by a popular writer. He flipped open the book to find that Sadie had inscribed a message to him.
For the day you decide to take a vacation and relax.

His chest felt tight, each breath he inhaled searing his lungs. The tight lid on his emotions popped off, and a few leaked out.

When he unwrapped the second present, he took his time, wanting to prolong the discovery of what lay beneath the green foil for as long as he could. He opened the box and nearly dropped it. Inside was a hand-painted Christmas ornament with his name on it and a message that said, “The first of many.”

Many what? Christmases together? Ornaments from her? He pushed the box away. What lay inside demanded too much of him. Didn’t she know he wasn’t capable of giving himself?

Andrew unlocked his front door and stepped to the side to allow Sadie past him. He wanted to give her something of himself—his time. It was a small gesture to arrange a special dinner for her, but he suspected she would appreciate it. “You really don’t have to do this,” Sadie said, entering Andrew’s house for the first time, a delicious aroma of baking food drifting from the kitchen.

“Yes, I do. You’ve cooked for me on numerous occasions. Now it’s my turn.”

“But you can’t cook.”

“But I know how to order.” Andrew held up his forefinger. “This is very good at dialing.”

“I like a resourceful man.”

“I aim to please.” He showed her into the living room, taking her coat and laying it over the back of a chair.

Sadie stopped and stared at the Christmas ornament she had made for Andrew. It hung from a stand on an end table. Except for a beautiful hand-painted lamp, her gift to him was the only thing on the table. In fact, as she surveyed the room, the only other items that indicated this was a person’s home were a photograph of Ruth, Darrell and their little girl and some magazines, all business related, scattered on the coffee table. This glimpse into Andrew’s private life made her sad.

“Thank you for the gifts.” Andrew sat on the black leather couch and motioned for her to sit also. “But I have to admit your ornament looks kind of lonely sitting over there by itself.”

“I was hoping you’d feel that way and add to your collection of one.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“With a few touches of color, a couple of pillows, this room—” she began with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t, Sadie.” Andrew pressed his finger against her mouth to still her words. “I’m rarely here. I spend more time in my office than here.”

“What I saw of your office, you could use some color there, too, and a few knickknacks to personalize the place.”

“Why? They only collect dust.” He relaxed on the sofa.

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. I prefer to think of the various items I have around my house as mementos of my past.”

“But you forget I don’t dwell in my past.”

“Don’t you?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I think your past very much dictates how you live now. You say you don’t look back, but what happened to you in the past is what has made you the man you are today.”

A frown creased his forehead, and he pinched his mouth into an unyielding line. “I suppose you have a point.”