That Wintry Feeling (Debbie Macomber Classics) (17 page)

A few minutes later the shower ran, and when Grady appeared, the drops of beaded moisture that clung to his hair were shining in the moonlight.

“Grady.” She whispered his name.

He sat on the edge of the mattress and leaned forward, bracing a hand on either side of her head. “Sh-hh,” he mouthed soothingly, “go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Seeing him there in the moonlight, the blue eyes so intense, his face barely inches above her own, she said again, “Grady,” his name a husky caress on her lips. Of their own volition, her arms circled his neck and urged his mouth to hers. The resistance was only momentary, and with a muted groan his mouth closed over hers, parting her lips. The kiss lingered and lingered, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. His arms closed around her so fiercely that she was half lifted from the bed.

Within the rapturous circle of his arms, she eagerly met each kiss until they were both breathless and reeling from the effects.

“Cathy.”

Never had she heard her name sound so beautiful. Within one word she recognized his need, his longing, and sighed heavily, knowing her needs, her longings were equal to his. His thumb traced her lips in a featherlight caress and was followed by hungry, almost desperate kisses. Her mouth was warm and trembling when he laid her back against the pillow and joined her in the bed.

* * *

The next afternoon, Cathy sat at the kitchen table, helping Angela with her schoolwork. The girl had made giant strides over the past months. She no longer saw the tutor, as Cathy had worked with her from the time she and Grady were married. Teasingly, she claimed she was a bargain wife because of all the money she saved him. Grady had laughed and assured her she was worth far more to him than a tutor. But that had been before. Before he worked sixteen-hour days, before he accepted assignments that would keep him away from home as long as possible. Before he flew both night and day.

Unconsciously, Cathy expelled her breath in a lingering sigh. Last night everything had been so perfect, so beautiful. They hadn’t spoken, not a word. Their lovemaking had been urgent, fierce. He held her close afterward and asked if he’d hurt her. When she assured him he hadn’t, Grady kissed her gently and fell into a deep sleep.

The phone rang, startling her. Angela popped off the chair and raced across the kitchen.

“Hello, this is the Jones residence, Angela speaking.” The words were polite and eager. “Oh, hi, Ray. Yes, she’s here.” Angela handed the phone to Cathy.

“Yes,” she said, and breathed in irritation. Not tonight, not again. She knew even before Ray said anything that Grady would be late again.

“Grady wanted me to phone and let you know he’ll be late tonight.”

Disappointment shivered over her until she thought she could cry with it. “Thanks for calling,” she replied stiffly.

Ray seemed reluctant to hang up. “Things okay with you, Missus Jones?” he questioned after a long minute.

Cathy wanted to scream no, something was terribly wrong but she didn’t know what. “I’m fine, thank you, Ray. And you?”

“Working hard,” he grumbled, “but not half as hard as that husband of yours. If Grady pushes himself much further, he’s going to end up sick, or worse.”

Cathy shuddered at the thought and didn’t doubt the truth of the statement. “Why is he staying again tonight—did he say?”

“Nope, Grady don’t say much to anyone anymore.”

“He’s not flying, is he?”

“Not that I know of, but as I said, Grady doesn’t confide much to me.” The voice was husky and did little to disguise the concern in Ray’s voice.

Cathy thought about the call for a long time afterward. Her mother’s warning played back in her mind.
Don’t make the same mistakes I did.
Was there something her mother could have done in the beginning of her marriage that would have changed the way her father had been?

“Daddy won’t be home until late, will he?” Sad eyes the identical color of Grady’s filled with tears the child couldn’t restrain. “It’s just like it was before you and Daddy got married. He never used to have dinner at home then, either.”

“Tonight I think we’re going to surprise your father.” Cathy stood, scooting the kitchen chair to the table.

Wiping the tear from her cheek, Angela was instantly at her side. “What are we going to do?”

“If Grady can’t come home for dinner, we’ll take dinner to him.”

“A picnic?” The tiny voice was immediately filled with excitement. “Can Ugly Arnie come, too?”

“I don’t see why not. If Mohammed won’t go to the mountain, then—” Cathy stopped, because Angela was giving her funny looks. Tugging a long braid, Cathy laughed. “Never mind.”

Cathy made a big deal of packing the picnic basket. Somehow in one small wicker container they were able to squeeze chicken, potato salad, wine, cheese, bread, fruit, cookies, and a doggie biscuit. Singing a song Angela had learned at school, they drove to the airfield, Ugly Arnie barking and howling from Angela’s arms.

Ray met them, wiping his greasy hands on an equally greasy pink cloth as a smile lit up tired old eyes. His face was a huge network of wrinkles that extended from his forehead to his round chin, a smile creating giant grooves in the sides of his mouth.

Angela bounded from the front seat and ran to meet the older man. “Hello, Ray. We brought Daddy a surprise.”

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Angela Jones herself,” Ray said with a crooked grin. “Could hardly tell it was Grady’s girl, you’ve grown so much. Pretty as a picture, too, just like Cathy.”

Angela glowed with pleasure. “Do you still keep chocolate in your pocket? You used to when I was a little kid.”

Ray edged back his hat with the tip of his index finger. “Can’t say that I do. Guess I have to check my toolbox.” He tossed Cathy a wink. “You go ahead and see Grady. I’ll take care of the young’un.”

Cathy nodded, her eyes silently thanking him. As she headed toward the office, she heard Ray ask Angela about Ugly Arnie, his question followed by a boisterous laugh.

The door to Grady’s office was closed, and she knocked tentatively.

“It’s open,” came his harsh response.

She entered the room and watched as a look of shock came over his face.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded as he stood.

Setting the picnic basket on the floor, she offered him a feeble smile. “Angela and I decided we were tired of eating alone, so we brought dinner to you.”

“How touching.”

Blinking back the incredible rush of hurt, she didn’t move. He didn’t want her here,
didn’t want to have her connected in any way with his company. It was as if she were a separate part of his life that could be tucked away and brought out when it was convenient. She had been fooling herself with the belief she would ever come to mean more to him than Alaska Cargo. “I … I take it that it’s … inconvenient for us to intrude on you.” Her lungs hurt with the effort to hold the tears in check. After last night she had expected things to be different.

“Yes.” His narrow gaze seemed capable of cutting through granite rock. “I thought I made it clear a long time ago that I didn’t want you calling here or coming here.”

“You didn’t mention anything about my coming to—”

“Honestly, Cathy,” he interrupted, “you’re being obtuse.”

She bit into a trembling bottom lip, angry at herself for the open display of emotion. An aching loneliness swept over her, and she lowered her gaze, studying the intricate pattern of the floor. “I don’t mind you working so hard or so late, but it’s hurting Angela. I wish you’d make an effort to be home for her sake.”

“Not yours?” The question was tossed at her jeeringly.

She swallowed at the huge lump forming in her throat. “No,” she lied, “not mine.”

The silence hung like a stormy, gray cloud between them.

“Is that all?” Grady questioned angrily.

“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes avoiding his. “I won’t trouble you again.”

“Good.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she angrily walked to the door. “After all, I know exactly why you married me. As a live-in babysitter, my place isn’t here or sharing your life.”

Her accusations seemed to anger him all the more, and he slammed his fist against the top of his desk. “My reasons or lack of reasons for marrying you have nothing to do with this.”

“Then what does?”

A weary look stole over him, and he rubbed a hand over his face and eyes. “Nothing. I’ll try and be home for dinner for Angela, but I won’t promise anything.”

“I suppose I should thank you for that, but somehow it’s not in me.” The parting words were issued in a contemptuous tone.

* * *

To his credit, Grady made a genuine effort to be home for dinner. Afterward, he spent time with Angela, but when the little girl was in bed he often made an excuse to return to the office. Within a week he was back to the late nights, although he’d speak to Angela over the phone if he was going to miss dinner.

This whole craziness with Grady had been going on for almost a month, and Cathy had yet to learn what was troubling him. He hardly spoke to her unless it was necessary. Only when he was asleep did he hold her close or display any affection.

“Daddy’s birthday is tomorrow,” Angela announced at the breakfast table Monday morning.

Cathy continued to stir her coffee. The black liquid formed a whirlpool that swirled long after she removed her spoon.

“Can I bake him a cake all by myself?” Angela questioned between bites of hot cereal. “And Ugly Arnie and me could put up a sign and have a surprise party and make hats and decorate the table and—”

Laughing, Cathy waved her hand to stop the child. “I get the idea.”

“Oh, Cathy, can I please, can I, all by myself for Dad?” Round blue eyes studied her imploringly.

“Sure.” She attempted a smile. “It’ll be fun.” Nothing was fun anymore. After a while, even Linda had noted something was wrong. Cathy had been able to disguise most of her unhappiness because Linda was preoccupied with Katy. When she questioned her, Cathy had done her best to brush off Linda’s concern, but her crushed spirit was impossible to hide, and when asked, Cathy had burst into tears. How could she tell Linda what was wrong when she didn’t know herself?

“I can bake the cake all by myself?” Angela questioned again. “And the frosting?”

“Only if you let me lick the beaters,” Cathy teased.

* * *

Cathy rose with Grady the next morning, packing his lunch and filling the thermos with coffee.

“What time will you be home tonight?” Her back was to him. She didn’t need to turn around to feel Grady’s resentment. He hated accounting for his time to her or anyone. She
wouldn’t have asked him now except that Angela had worked so hard planning a surprise party.

“I’ll be home when I get here,” he responded tightly. “Don’t push me, Cathy.”

She whirled around, her eyes flashing angry sparks. “Don’t push you?” she hurled back. “Blast it, Grady Jones, either you be on time for dinner or … or …” She couldn’t think of anything that would put a chink in the steel-hard wall he had erected, blocking her out of his life.

“Or what?” he taunted, his voice grating as if he found her sudden display of temper amusing.

Defeated, she avoided his eyes. “Please, Grady, just be home.”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he grabbed his lunch and stalked out the back door.

* * *

“Cathy, come look,” Angela called from the living room. “Everything’s ready.” The decorated cake sat in the middle of the dining room table surrounded by several small gifts. Across the doorway hung Angela’s banner, made of bold colored letters spelling out
HAPPIE BIRTHDAY
,
LOVE ANGELA
. Beside the name she had drawn a paw print. From the time Angela walked in the door that afternoon, she had spent every minute working on getting ready for the party. Proudly, she had baked the cake and frosted it. Thirty-four candles were tilted on a lopsided surface.

For her party, Cathy had baked Grady’s favorite salmon casserole and tossed a fresh spinach salad.

“Perfect.” She surveyed the room with a proud glint shining from her eyes. Silently, she was pleading for Grady to be on time, just this once. Surely he must have known she had asked him for a reason.

Everything was prepared and waiting at six-thirty. The table was set with their best dishes. The chilled bottle of wine was ready to open. Angela changed into the pink satin dress she had worn for the wedding, and Cathy was amazed to note that the child had shot up a good inch in the five months since she’d married Grady.

“Wear something fancy, too,” Angela insisted, and proceeded to go through Cathy’s closet, choosing a dress.

Cathy smiled weakly at the sleek evening gown Angela brought out. The dress was the only really fancy one she owned. She had worn it to a Christmas party two years ago with Steve.

Even as she’d placed it in the suitcase when packing for Alaska, she had asked herself why she was bringing it. The temptation had been so strong to hold on to any part of the relationship that she kept it. It had been childish, stupid. She realized that now. Her love for Grady had opened her eyes to several things she’d refused to recognize in the past.

“No.” Cathy struggled to keep her voice even. “I don’t think I should wear that dress, it’s too fancy. Let’s pick out something else.”

With a disappointed sigh, Angela did as she was asked. Finally, Cathy agreed to wear the white wool suit she had worn on her wedding day.

Next Angela insisted they wait in the living room. The minute they heard Grady the plan was to hide, then scream “Surprise!” when he walked into the room. Eager and fidgeting, Angela waited until almost seven-thirty.

“This is ridiculous,” Cathy complained, and stormed into the kitchen to telephone his office. The phone rang several times before there was an answer.

“Yeah.”

Ray. Cathy swallowed and turned her back to Angela, who was anxiously watching her. “Ray, is Grady there?”

“No,” the gruff voice returned. “He left about an hour ago. Anything wrong, Missus Jones?”

She wanted to scream that everything was wrong. Grady couldn’t disappoint Angela this way, it would break the child’s heart after she had worked so hard. “Do you happen to know where he went?” She hated to pry and pressed her mouth closed so tight that her teeth hurt.