Jackson Hole Valentine (22 page)

The color faded from Meg’s cheeks. “Charlie is left-handed.”

“So is Cole,” Ed observed, his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down like a jumping bean.

“We’re here to talk about Charlie.” Cole’s jaw tightened with annoyance. “What are your recommendations?”

Ed opened his briefcase and pulled out a thick packet of papers. “I brought with me the participation packet for our reading assistance program as well as some suggestions for some multisensory games you could play with the boy over the holiday break. If you want to sign the agreement now, I can take it back with me and we can get him started when school resumes in January.”

Cole made no move to pick up the packet lying where Ed had placed it on the table. “Thank you for bringing these out. Meg and I will discuss this and get back to you with our decision.”

Ed’s lips thinned. He’d obviously expected them to sign on the dotted line. While Cole had little doubt that they would have Charlie participate in the program, this was something he and Meg needed to discuss first.

“I can’t stress strongly enough the need for early intervention.” Ed fixed his gaze on Cole. “You should know better than most the challenges children face when they get older and can’t read well.”

“Yes.” Cole gave a bark of laughter that lacked humor. “I’ve experienced how cruel kids can be.”

Ed flushed. He glanced down at his papers for a long moment then lifted his gaze. “I’ve owed you an apology for a long time. This is probably as good a time as any to say I’m sorry. I look back on what I said to you and, well, I can’t believe I was such—”

“A jerk,” Cole filled in the blank.

Meg’s gaze shifted from Cole to Ed, a frown furrowing her brow. “What did you say to him?”

The blotches on Ed’s neck, just above his shirt collar, deepened to a ruddy red. “Some remark about him reading at a fifth-grade level.”

“You knew Cole was dyslexic?” Meg’s surprise appeared genuine. If Cole didn’t know better he’d have been convinced. “How did you find out?”

Cole cast a sideways glance her way. “You told him.”

“Me?” Meg’s voice trembled with outrage. “I most certainly did not.”

“That’s what he told me.” Cole may have spoken to Meg but his gaze remained focused on Ed.

Meg’s eyes flashed green fire. If looks could kill, Ed would already be dead. “Ed?”

The man went very still for a moment. “I was your father’s student assistant that semester. I overheard you asking your dad for ways to help someone who couldn’t read well.”

Ed blew out a breath before turning toward Cole. “Meg refused to give him a name, but I knew you were seeing each other and I put two and two together.”

“How did you know I was seeing him?” Meg asked.

“I—I had this crush on you,” Ed said. “I was aware of everything you did.”

Cole listened to Meg chew Ed out with only half an ear, stunned by the realization that he’d blamed her all these years for something she hadn’t done.

The thought of how wrong he’d been was still running through his head when they walked Ed to the door, promising to get back to him with a decision after the first of the year.

Cole pushed the heavy front door shut behind him, then turned to face Meg. “I thought it was you who’d told Ed my secret.”

“That’s why you dumped me.” Her eyes widened as she made the connection. “You believed I’d broken your confidence.”

“Ed told me the two of you had laughed about me being so stupid. He said that’s why you didn’t want anyone to know that we were dating.”

“That man is lucky he isn’t standing in front of me right now,” Meg sputtered. “I’d never have done something so despicable. Never.”

“I know that now.” Cole moved from the foyer to the window in the great room, feeling restless, his thoughts as tangled as the swirling snow.

Cole fought against the cold invading his body, the aloneness invading his soul. Then Meg wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and rested her head against his back.

“I wish you’d have come to me,” she whispered in a low tone. “Given me a chance to explain, instead of believing the worst.”

He heard the pain in her voice and the disappointment.

“I was seventeen. Even if you’d explained, I don’t know that I’d have believed you.” Cole turned to face her, reassured when she kept her arms around him. “You were brilliant.”

Meg gave a strangled laugh. “Hardly.”

“You were to me.” He traced the gentle curve of her jaw with one finger. “And so beautiful.”

Cole stared at her for a long moment. “I couldn’t believe anyone like you could love someone like me. Ed’s comments just solidified that belief in my head.”

“Oh, Cole.” Tears filled Meg’s eyes and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “I wish I’d handled things differently. I made a decision about your character based on my teenage-boy insecurities.”

“It’s okay.” She expelled a shaky breath. “We’ve been given a second chance. That’s more than most people get.”

Cole realized with a sense of amazement that it was true. She could hold his distrust against him but she didn’t. Meg was a beautiful woman, inside and out.

“We’ll be more open and honest with each other this time. We’ll listen and share and there’ll be no more secrets.” Meg gave a tearful laugh. “We know how destructive those can be. No, this time we’ll be starting over with a clean slate.”

This was his opportunity, his chance to tell her about Joy and him. Would she forgive him? And more importantly, would she forgive Joy?

Women were funny about their friends. Even today, Meg had alluded to how much her friendship with Joy had meant. No, there was no point in bringing up that Joy had slept with him. Not until he knew for certain that Charlie was his son.

“I can’t believe we’re snowed in on Christmas Eve.” Meg turned back from the window. For as far as she’d been able to see, a thick blanket of white covered the ground.

“It’s Jackson Hole in the winter.” Cole looked up from the whiteboard where Charlie was writing simple three-letter “sight” words in different-colored markers, and held up one hand. “Good job, cowboy. Punch it.”

Meg shifted her gaze just in time to see Charlie bump Cole’s fist with a force that would have done a boxer proud.

“I did it, Aunt Meg.” Charlie flashed a brilliant smile and pointed to the whiteboard. “That says ‘dog.’”

“Yes, it does.” Meg’s heart swelled in her chest until it felt as if it would burst. She wasn’t sure who she was most proud of—Cole or Charlie.

When Cole had told Ed they’d get back to him about the reading assistance program, she’d feared that like Ty and Joy he would opt out of the extra assistance. Perhaps he didn’t want Charlie labeled. Perhaps he didn’t want to commit to the time and effort in the evenings. After all, she knew how much time he’d been spending on the phone with his corporate staff.

Then, after Ed left, she’d asked Cole about it. No more of this wondering or speculating. Honesty was now at the heart of their relationship.

Meg had almost started crying when he’d said this was an important decision they needed to make together. It was then she knew that they’d truly turned a corner in their relationship.

Charlie glanced up, a bright blue marker in his hand. “How is Santa going to find our house with all the snow?”

The day after Lexi’s party, she and Cole had planned to take Charlie over to her brother’s house in the afternoon so they could shop for “Santa” gifts. Charlie’s illness had derailed those plans.

“Good question, Charlie,” Cole said. “I have no doubt Santa will eventually make an appearance, but I doubt it will be tonight.”

Charlie’s face scrunched up and tears filled his eyes. “There won’t be any presents?”

“Just because Santa is delayed doesn’t mean the three of us can’t give each other gifts,” Meg said. “When I was a little girl, my brothers and sisters and I used to make presents for each other in addition to getting gifts from Santa.”

“What did you make these gifts out of?” Cole asked.

Charlie cocked his head, tears clinging to his long lashes, listening for her reply.

“Just items we had around the house.” Meg forced enthusiasm into her voice.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Cole echoed, jumping in to help her sell the idea to the little boy.

“What would you make?” Charlie asked, still skeptical.

“We’d draw pictures or make paper dolls or—”

“Paper dolls?” The look of disgust on the boy’s face made Meg smile.

“You and Uncle Cole may not want to make dolls for each other,” Meg said, trying not to smile, “but you could make one for me. There are all sorts of things we can make.”

“I’m in,” Cole said. “How ’bout you, Charlie?”

The little boy thought for a moment then nodded. “Okay. But I don’t want no doll.”

Chapter Sixteen

T
hat night, after presents had been exchanged and Cole had finished reading
The Night Before Christmas
in front of the fire, he and Meg found themselves alone on the sofa. His arm rested comfortably around her shoulders and a Kenny G Christmas CD played softly in the background.

The ficus tree had been decorated with red and green chains made out of construction paper, interspersed with handmade ropes of popcorn and cranberries.

The gifts they’d opened earlier in the evening lay on the coffee table before them.

“We probably should have taken Charlie’s presents up to his room,” Cole said. “He’s not going to be happy when he wakes up in the morning and discovers he left them behind.”

“I’ll bring them up with me when I go to bed.” Meg’s gaze dropped to the picture book Cole had made him. It sat next to the stuffed sock dog Meg had sewn, complete with button eyes and a yarn tail.

“When he saw the dog,” Cole said, “he was as excited as if you’d given him a real puppy.”

“I think it would be good for him to have a dog,” Meg said.

“I agree.”

“You do?”

Cole nodded. “Ever since you did that get-acquainted exercise the first night we were together and we discovered we’re all dog lovers, I’ve been thinking a puppy would be good for Charlie.”

Meg hesitated. “There’d be some logistical stuff we’d need to figure out. Like would the puppy stay at one of our places all the time or would it go back and forth with Charlie between your house and mine?”

“I was thinking it’d be nice if the puppy and Charlie only had one home to go to.” Cole’s eyes looked black in the dim light.

Meg’s heart skipped a beat. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

But she didn’t have a chance to ask, because all of a sudden his lips were on hers and nothing else mattered except her and him and the closeness.

When Meg left his bed at two o’clock Christmas morning, Cole realized how much she’d become a part of his life. She’d brought a richness, a fullness to his existence that he hadn’t even known he’d been missing.

He didn’t want her in his life on a temporary basis, he wanted her there permanently. Filling his nights and days with warmth and joy. Being a mother to Charlie and a wife to him.

I love her.

The realization came as no surprise. From the moment he’d seen Margaret Mary Fisher in that crowded school hallway, he’d known she was the one for him. And regardless of what the DNA tests might show, Charlie was his son. No,
their
son.

Cole thought of the papers his attorney had prepared, the ones which would petition the courts for sole custody once paternity was established. He thought of the fact that Meg still had no idea that he and Joy had once had a brief relationship.

He’d initially decided not to tell her about his involvement with Joy if the paternity test came back negative. Now he knew that he had to tell her regardless.

Meg valued honesty and so did he. She’d been right when she said they’d been given a second chance. A chance he didn’t want to blow.

Hopefully the roads would open up and he could slip into town to do some quick shopping. Though he could tell she liked the glitter heart he’d made her, he had a more special gift in mind.

A gift that would show her how much he cared.

A gift that would pave the way for a declaration of love…and an overdue confession.

Three days after Christmas, the holiday spirit still filled Meg’s heart. She let her gaze linger on the glittery silver heart on the black construction paper before shifting to the necklace made out of macaroni shells. Both now sat on her dresser. A lump formed in her throat.

She couldn’t imagine ever receiving two nicer Christmas gifts. Carefully picking them up in one hand, she moved them to the bed then resumed dusting. When she was done, she returned them to what she liked to refer to as their “place of honor.”

Having them next to where she placed her earrings guaranteed they were the last things she looked at before she went to bed…and the first things she saw every morning.