Her Unexpected Family (10 page)

“They're two, Emily. They're not going to sit through a play.”

“Well, it's short and I think they'd love to see a bunch of other kids doing things. Preschool kids always like to look up to school-age kids. And the music is precious.”

Music. More specifically, church music. His mother had helped run so many church events, and she'd played piano for church plays and concerts. Maybe it gave her comfort. He didn't know.

He got nothing out of church. He'd had too many prayers go unanswered. He'd wanted his father back desperately, and oh, how he prayed. He grimaced, remembering. He got nothing, and when his mother fought cancer, she prayed up a storm.

Nothing, again, so Grant was disinclined to waste time pretending. His kids had him, and he'd stand by them forever. “December's busy enough. I have to make time to go shopping and get them in to see Santa. But I'm sure it will go well with you and Rory helping.”

“I'm sure you're right.” Her tone went from open and friendly to lightly impersonal. “Text me and let me know who's getting here first, you or Tillie. That way I'll let the kids know.”

“I will.” He ended the call, but stared at the phone before setting it down. Her tone had changed. Why? Because he didn't want to take Tim and Dolly to a play?

A weather alert grabbed his attention, and as he and Jeannie talked to the plow drivers over the radio, he knew he'd be stuck at work for several hours, at least. He was about to call Aunt Tillie, when Uncle Percy walked in and handed him his keys. “Here you go.”

“You brought my car into town?”

Percy shook his head. “I dropped the Mrs. at your place to keep an eye on the youngsters, and I followed Miss Emily into town to get her car. She asked me to give you these.”

Grant crossed the room and looked out the window. An empty rectangle of pavement stood out in the snow-covered parking lot where Emily's car had been.

She hadn't stopped in or called to let him know she was heading back into town.

He hid his disappointment. He hadn't realized how much he'd looked forward to seeing her at the end of the day, until he didn't.

He pocketed the keys. “Thanks, Uncle Percy.”

“Glad to help, and doubly glad not to be drivin' the big rigs in snowstorms anymore. Too many cowboys on the road, not willin' to give a plow room to maneuver. I'll pick Tillie up in the mornin'. Oh, and she said you got a call that Christa's dress came in. Miss Caroline left a message with Tillie, and Tillie said you'd let Christa know.”

Christa. The wedding. The angry phone call from the week before. Guilt rose within him. “Of course I will. And thanks for dropping Aunt Tillie off at the house.”

“Glad to help.” Uncle Percy said it and he meant it. Grant loved that about the aging couple.

“Boss, you okay for the night?” Jeannie pulled her coat and scarf off the wall hooks beyond her desk. “If you are, I'm going to start my car and brush it off so it's thawed out when I'm ready to leave.”

He reached out a hand for the keys. “I'll do it. I could use a little fresh air right now.”

“I won't refuse an offer like that!” She handed him the keys and motioned to the radio. “I'll keep an eye on things in here.”

“I'd appreciate it.” He walked into the cold purposely. He'd been downright frustrated since Christa's call the week before. He couldn't get her words or her sorrowed tone out of his head. It ate at him, as if he was in the wrong.

He wasn't. She'd been too little to remember. He remembered everything, in vivid detail. He'd put it all behind him, years ago.

Really? So why are you still angry now?

He didn't know why, but Jeannie's car got the most thorough brushing he'd ever given. As he rounded the hood, the dusk chorus of church bells began, an old Grace Haven tradition. Bells pealed from three corners of the town, joined by two along Center Street, and then the old stone church began its nightly hymn.

Only this time they didn't play a regular hymn. The tower rang out the plaintive notes of “Taps,” a song they played to remember servicemen and women.

Pearl Harbor Day. He'd forgotten the date in his flurry to get the twins cared for. The old church was paying tribute to those who served then, and those who served now.

He thought of Christa, so far away, wishing for family. He'd never been away. He'd lived his entire life in Grace Haven, making a name for himself in his community.

Christa had braved the world, the armed forces and international travel. He remembered pictures of his father in uniform, on the wall. They'd all been taken down when he left, but he remembered them. Father and daughter, both willing to wear the uniform for their country.

The last, drawn-out notes played on the wind. “God is nigh...”

He wasn't. Grant knew that, but the touching notes almost made him wish it was true. He stomped snow off his boots before he walked back into the office and gave Jeannie her keys.

The song talked of all being well.

It wasn't, but was that his fault?

No.

He bit back a sigh as a driver called in. He keyed the microphone. “Grant here.” As the driver reported conditions on the southwest perimeter, Grant knew he'd said a mental “no” to accepting any blame, but as the snow continued to fall, he realized his answer should have been “maybe,” because three decades was a long time to hold a grudge.

That realization stung.

* * *

Lucrative
was an understatement for Noel Barrister's contract offer.

Great terms. Amazing benefits. Incredible perks, including wardrobe, and a six-figure salary that meant living in Manhattan wouldn't be a struggle.

Emily stared at her office laptop screen. Her heart thudded in her chest as she reexamined the document.

Noel Barrister wanted her back in the company, badly. The question was why? And was she willing to entertain this offer and resume any kind of relationship with her former in-laws?

The geographical distance and the no-fire clause inside a buyout option made her realize this offer could be a genuine possibility. She picked up her phone and dialed his number. It was after hours, but Noel wouldn't care about that. He and Christopher's grandfather hadn't grown Barrister's to a five-state chain without putting in the time. He answered on the second ring.

“Emily, good to hear from you. My offer arrived, I take it?”

“It did, and it's quite generous.”

“As promised.”

“Yes, again. But why, Noel?” She leaned back in her chair and put her feet up. “What's happened? And please just tell me outright—spare me the trouble of digging up current figure comparisons to twenty-four months ago.”

“You answered your own question. Sales jumped appreciably when you were in charge of women's clothing. They've dropped by double digits this year, and that's a wake-up call. Not everyone sees how things will look. You do. It's a gift and you have it.”

She did. She understood body types, styles and fabrics. There was a science to putting the puzzle pieces together, but did she love it enough to work for a Barrister again?

The offer tempted her forward.

Common sense held her back. “You understand that I need to stay here for several months still. My father is undergoing cancer treatments, and I can't leave my sister in a lurch.”

“Unacceptable.” Noel clipped the word. “And no parent in their right mind would expect their child to miss an opportunity like this. Time is money, Emily. Always was, always will be. I'd need you here by mid-January at the latest.”

“That's quite impossible, so let's end this call amicably. Goodbye, Noel.”

“February first.” He barked the words and sounded pained to do so. “That's eight weeks away. I cannot believe that your sisters can't handle the business on their own come February. It's illogical to think otherwise.”

Could they?

Rory wasn't a fan of weddings and event planning, and Kimberly was rock solid in the industry, but they'd booked a lot of events for the coming year already. With her mother retiring, should she assume a place in Kate & Company? Or move on?

“Train someone, for pity's sake. Companies do it all the time.”

He was right, but that wasn't the question. The question lay within her. Did she want to stay? Or go? Did she belong here or there? “I'll take it under consideration.”

“I can't wait forever, Emily.”

“Noel, your impatience won't gain favor with me. You've extended a professional offer. I will make a professional decision once I've had a chance to examine it. I'll be in touch soon.”

He hung up without saying goodbye, probably miffed that she didn't jump aboard immediately.

She shrugged into her coat and scarf, turned off the lights and walked out the front door of Kate & Company.

Church bells sounded as she put the key in the lock.

She loved their joyful call to evening, the cooperative work of several churches, and when the old stone church began playing “Taps,” she sighed at the beauty of the music, the snow and the night.

Could she stay and be around Grant and not grow to care too deeply for him? Did she dare? Or would she be smarter to cut her losses and start anew?

The disciple Peter talked about being sober and watchful in his Biblical letters. He warned that evil prowls like a roaring lion.

Was the lure of money calling her? Or was it the chance to succeed in her chosen career? Or both? And if both, was that wholesome?

Questions dogged her. She paused by the town gazebo, the very spot where Kimberly and Drew had stood for wedding photos, and she gazed around.

Let go and let God. Trust, Emily. Put your trust not in yourself or others, but in Him.

Her mother's words were the reminder she needed now and again.

The snow started falling harder. Thicker. Already it blanketed the ground. The heavy-duty grind of a snowplow engine brought Grant to mind.

Let go and let God.

Her mother was right, and for the moment, Emily needed to do exactly that. She walked home through the quickly mounting snow, grabbed a shovel from the garage and began clearing the walk.

It would fill up again, as long as the snow continued, but doing something manual felt good. And when the walks were fully cleared, the thought of a warm house seemed real nice. She turned to go in just as Grant's SUV rolled up the driveway.

Her heart sped up.

She ordered it to stop that nonsense, right now.

Her heart had other ideas. When he climbed out of the car and crossed the drive, the sight of him, rugged and strong, dressed in working man's clothes, pulled at her.

“You're shoveling?”

“Just finished.”

“I'd have done this for you.” He reached out and tucked her hair back, behind her ear, then indicated the walks with his gaze, but didn't move his hand. “It would be my pleasure, Em.”

The strength of his callused hand against her cheek, against her ear sent warmth through her. “Grant, I—”

“You're beautiful with snowflakes in your hair.” He spoke softly, tenderly. “But you're beautiful without the snowflakes, too.”

“Grant...”

“Em, I'm not sure what you see in me.” He put two warm hands against her cool cheeks and shrugged lightly. “I'm stubborn, maybe even bullheaded, and I'm not even close to perfect, but when I look at you, I want to be more perfect. To be a better person. And right now...” He stopped talking and shifted his gaze from her eyes to her lips. “Right now...”

She lifted her chin and that was all the permission he needed. He dropped his head and his lips met hers.

Perfect.

Perfectly matched, perfectly marvelous.

He kissed her sweetly, as snow fell on and around them, a winter's hush on the land, the town. And when he deepened the kiss, Emily's heart wanted nothing more than to be in this man's arms.

“Em.” He whispered her name when he gathered her into a long, warm embrace, the kind of hug a woman would cherish forever. “I know this shouldn't have happened. I know you're planning on leaving when things get right, but I had to know.”

“Know what?”

“If kissing you would be just as wonderful as I thought it would be. And the answer is yes. It was. Now what are we going to do about it?”

The softness of his leather collar warred with the late-day bristle on his cheeks and chin. The combination of falling snow, warm hugs and sweet, tender kisses wiped any semblance of rational thought from her brain. “Kiss some more and figure things out in the reality of daylight?”

He laughed and obliged most willingly, then hugged her close again. “I've got to get home. We've got lake-effect bands that are going to kick into gear the next few weeks, but just thinking about those kisses will keep me going, Em.”

Beautiful kisses. Beautiful children. A fairy-tale kind of life in so many ways.

But life was more than fiction. She reached her hand up to his cheek. He turned his face and kissed her palm.

“I'll see you in the morning, okay?” She stepped back because if she didn't, she might linger in the yard forever, lost in the moment.

“Okay.”

He started toward the car, and when he turned and lifted his hand in farewell, she did the same. “God bless you.”

“Good night, Em.”

No sweet blessings at the McCarthy's. No grace before meals, nothing faith based.

Conflicted, she watched as he pulled away.

Noel, and his gruff, no nonsense, take-no-prisoners offer.

Grant, a man she cared for, who shrugged off God as a nonentity.

Let go and let God.

She put the shovel away, walked up the sidewalk and let herself in. If this was a test, one way or another she was determined to pass it. She'd pray for wisdom and discernment, because emotion alone couldn't win the day.