The Heart of Christmas (21 page)

Eve watched as he got up and started to dress. Those scars were proof of the wounds he’d suffered on the outside, but she suspected he’d been hurt far worse on the inside—and yet he showed no kindness to himself.

“Connie also said that no one holds you responsible for what happened to Logan,” she added.

For a heartbeat, he froze. Then he said, “I hold myself accountable,” and the ragged edge in his voice broke Eve’s heart. She wanted to tell him that maybe it was time to forgive himself for whatever he’d done, that Christmas was here and soon after would come New Year’s—a perfect time for fresh beginnings. But he was suddenly so aloof she wasn’t sure she’d reach him. And she was afraid that trying would only push him farther away.

So she got up and put on her clothes—and went out to finish preparing dinner.

* * *

The meal they shared passed in quiet contentment. When Eve got up to get more bread or to pour him more soda, she often touched him. Once, she even came up from behind, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his for a few seconds before picking up the bowl and ladling more pasta onto his plate. The evening felt...perfect, he decided. She was peaceful and calm,
whole
in a way few people were. And that relieved the obligation he often felt to try to make the lives of those around him better. With that burden gone, it was easier for him to take refuge from his own thoughts and feelings.

Even Laurel, as much as he’d loved her, hadn’t been able to offer him the same emotional steadiness. She’d been through too much herself. Eve grounded him, and that gave him a chance to catch his breath, to clear his head, to finally feel...at rest.

“How do you think The Crew found you?” she asked when they were nearly finished.

He’d wondered that many times himself. “I can only assume they’re checking every personal security company in America, looking for me and Virgil.”

She tore off a piece of her garlic bread. “How do they know what business you’re in?”

“We were in the same business in D.C. Stands to reason we’d stick to what we’re familiar with. We both went to prison before we could graduate from high school. I got my GED while I was inside, but it’s not like we have college degrees or any other experience to fall back on. We have to make money somehow.”

Her eyes were troubled when she responded. “That means you won’t be safe even if you leave Whiskey Creek. Or the state.”

He took her hand, loving the way her fingers fit so comfortably between his. “If I change my identity, I should be fine. Gangs have practical concerns, too. The Crew can’t send people out to get a visual on every bodyguard in the country. That would cost them a fortune. I shouldn’t have gone back to my first name. That’s probably what tipped them off.”

“Why did you?” she asked. “It’s not like Rex is all that common.”

“It gets old when you can’t be yourself,” he said with a shrug. The renegade inside him had tempted fate. That was classic behavior for him.

She held her water glass loosely in her free hand. “So you’ll change your name and move...where?”

“Don’t know yet. Wherever I land. Coming back to California was another mistake. Virgil tried to talk me out of it, but...I wouldn’t listen. It was my attempt to reclaim what I felt was mine, I guess. My name. My home. The Crew operates out of L.A., so I came north and thought that would put sufficient distance between us.”

“Why didn’t it? What went wrong?”

“Who knows? The only thing I can think of is that my discovery came from some prison inmate.”

“How?”

“The Crew has members in prisons all over California. Some are probably even in the federal system by now, but that’s beside the point.” He brushed some crumbs off the table. “Anyway, say they have a member in San Quentin, right there by San Francisco. They could’ve got someone who was visiting that guy to find out if the owner of All About Security is the Rex they remember.”

“But there’s no address on your website. Your name isn’t listed there, either. They’d have to start with that, wouldn’t they?”

“They probably did. I’m guessing they randomly check security companies, hoping to get lucky. Maybe, for some reason, All About Security landed on their list of possibilities. All they would’ve had to do is have someone call in and act like a client. It wouldn’t be unusual for a client to hear my name. Maybe someone they know went so far as to hire me and, at some point, took a picture they could compare to my mug shot. Boom. They have identification.”

“That still doesn’t give them your address.”

“So maybe that client continues to work with me. I can’t do security one night, so I assign one of my bodyguards. They become friendly, and the bodyguard casually mentions where the office is located.”

“And then they wait outside and follow you home.”

“There you go.”

“But they came to your house in the middle of the night, after you were already home.”

“They might have tried earlier and pulled out at the last minute because there were too many people around. I have neighbors who have kids. So they decided to hit late at night. Fewer witnesses and the cover of darkness gives them better odds of getting away.”

“And then you left and came here.”

“They weren’t figuring I’d have my own mole. I’d received word that they were getting close, so I took off.”

“So once they knew where you lived, they just sat tight.”

“Assuming I’d be back eventually. Yes. They didn’t know where I’d disappeared to, so all they could do was wait.”

“Who tipped you off?”

“I had a friend who was still associated with them. She sent me a message to warn me.”

“
Had
a friend?”

He waved her off. “You don’t want to know.”

She fell silent again. “There’s nothing that could lead them to
this
area,” she said at length.

“Not right now. I wouldn’t be here if there was. I wouldn’t endanger you.”

“I’m saying you could probably stay, if you wanted to. How would they ever find you?”

“My money won’t last forever, Eve. How would I get work?”

She didn’t have a chance to answer. Her phone rang, distracting her. She ignored it and stood up to do the dishes. But then a text came in and, when she read it, he heard her gasp.

“What?” he asked.

“Cheyenne’s having her baby!”

He’d just started carrying dishes to the counter. At this, he hesitated. “Is everything okay? I mean...she’s close to her due date, right?”

“Her due date is the twenty-eighth, so she’s about ten days early. I don’t think that’s anything to worry about, but...I hope she and the baby are going to be okay.”

“Where is she going? Is there even a hospital around here?”

“Sutter Amador’s in Jackson.”

“Does she expect you to be there?”

“Of course. And I want to be. I’m sure all of us will go to support her.”

“All of whom?”

“Our group of friends. That text was from Dylan. He would’ve alerted Kyle, Riley, Callie and the others, too.”

“Will you go into the delivery room with her?”

“No. She can only have two people. Dylan and one other. They don’t want a crowd getting in the way. Her mother was planning to be here, but she lives in Colorado and won’t arrive until after Christmas. So now...”

He put the dishes in the sink. “Looks like that slot has opened up.”

“Even if it has, her sister, Presley, moved back to town not long ago. She’ll take it. I’ll just wait in the lobby with the rest of our friends.”

He stopped her as she was hurrying to retrieve her purse and find her coat. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Yes, because otherwise she was afraid he’d be gone by the time she got home. She hated that feeling of never knowing when he might decide to move on. But she was also nervous for her friend, afraid that something about the baby would give away Cheyenne’s secret—a birthmark that only Aaron possessed or anything else that might make Dylan suspicious. She wasn’t sure what Chey would do if the truth came out, couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking now that the big day had arrived. Was she worried about the lie—well-intentioned though it was—that she was living? Even if she was, Eve couldn’t do anything to soothe her fears. Cheyenne had made her promise not to bring up the subject of her baby’s true paternity ever again. And Eve intended to fulfill that promise.

“If you don’t mind,” she said. “I’m so jittery I’m not even sure I can drive.” The fact that she was pregnant probably had something to do with it. She’d be going through all of this come summer, only she’d be doing it
alone
.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I like Cheyenne. Do you have everything you need?”

“I think so.”

“Great. I’ll drive you over.”

25

T
ed was the only member of their weekly coffee crew who didn’t show up at the hospital. No one seemed to know where he was, and he hadn’t been answering his phone, so when Sophia and her daughter, Alexa, came into the waiting room, Eve hurried over. “Ted’s not coming?”

“He’s going to hate missing this, but I’m afraid he’s still out of town.”

“I thought it would be a quick there-and-back trip,” Eve said in surprise. He’d been gone for four days.

“No. He’s learning a lot, but it’s taking him all over the United States.”

Eve smiled to reassure Sophia. Sophia was always a little tentative with her these days, but Eve had had a harder time forgiving Ted than Sophia. She hadn’t been as close to Sophia. And Sophia had been through so much with her former husband that Eve couldn’t blame her for wanting someone like Ted. What Skip had pulled when he tried to disappear and leave Sophia with all the debt he’d created was shocking. Eve couldn’t believe that any man could be so selfish when it came to his wife and daughter. She was glad Sophia had finally found peace and happiness—even if it was, to some degree, at her expense. “Only Ted would be that thorough,” she said.

The twinkle in Sophia’s eye told Eve how proud she was of him. “Yes.”

“I hope he can figure it out,” Alexa added. “I’ve always wondered what happened to Mary. All the stories about her ghost...they sort of freak me out.”

“Me, too,” Eve admitted, and glanced at the clock. Cheyenne had been in labor for two hours.

“Has anyone called Gail?” Callie asked, joining them. “Or Baxter?”

“I assumed that Dylan got in touch like he did with us,” Eve said, but she texted them to be sure, and Baxter called her almost immediately.

“So tonight’s the big night?” he said as soon as she answered.

“It could be tomorrow. Labor can take quite a while, especially with a first baby.”

“That’s what Dylan said when he texted me, so I was planning to come in the morning. Do you think I’ll miss it if I do?”

“There’s no way to tell.” Eve saw movement at the doorway and, hoping it was a nurse with some kind of update, glanced over.

It was Aaron. He walked in, holding his three-year-old son in his arms. His fiancée, Presley, was presumably in the delivery room with her sister. The three younger Amos brothers trailed after him. So did his father, his father’s wife and her daughter.

Everyone said hello and tried to make room for the newcomers, but there weren’t any more seats, so Rex got up, saying he was going to get something from the vending machine in the hall. Several pairs of eyes followed him, then looked questioningly at her, but Eve ignored their interest, grateful she was on the phone.

“Dylan’s family just got here,” she told Baxter.

“Including his father and his father’s crazy bitch of a wife?”

It was hard not to laugh. Baxter rarely held back, and his frankness was often funny, because he was almost always right.

Turning away, she lowered her voice. “The whole gang.” If Baxter knew that the real father of Cheyenne’s baby was in the waiting room and not the delivery room, he’d die!

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have their support.”

This time she allowed herself to laugh at his sarcasm, but she sobered the second she glanced up and her eyes met Aaron’s.

Was there a flicker of trepidation in them?

She thought so. Then his expression turned stoic and, after nodding hello, he pulled his gaze away. She figured he had to be at least as nervous as Cheyenne. From what Cheyenne had confided, he’d been reluctant to get involved in the artificial insemination. He’d only agreed because he felt he owed his older brother so much.

They had nothing to worry about, she told herself. Nothing could go wrong. Aaron looked like Dylan. All the arguments Cheyenne had used to justify her actions came to mind, but there was still that niggle of doubt, and it was enough to put Eve on pins and needles.

“Hello? You still there?” Baxter said.

Eve hadn’t realized she’d let her end of the conversation lapse. She was holding the phone to her ear, but hadn’t been listening to a word Baxter said.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Sorry. I got distracted.”

“Not because the baby’s been born...”

“No, not that we’ve heard.”

“Then I’m on my way. I don’t dare wait.”

“I’m glad,” Eve said. “It’ll be good to have you with us.”

There was a slight pause. Then he said, “Are Noah and Addy there?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t matter because you’re over Noah, right?”

“Of course. I got over him a long time ago.”

She highly doubted that. He’d been in love with Noah for most of his life. Something with that kind of longevity wasn’t going to disappear overnight. “Are you bringing Scott?” she asked.

“I don’t think so. I don’t want him nagging me to leave before I’m ready,” he said, and hung up.

That brought up another issue—her concern over Scott and the lack of interest Scott showed in Baxter’s lifelong friends—but she couldn’t dwell on that right now. Until she saw Cheyenne’s baby, Eve knew she’d have a knot in her stomach, and she guessed that Aaron, Presley and Cheyenne were every bit as terrified as she was.

* * *

Rex hovered around the periphery of the crowd that had gathered to support Cheyenne. He couldn’t imagine having so many friends interested in his life that they were willing to spend the night in a hospital waiting room. Like he’d told Eve, when he’d been shot and stabbed and was fighting for his life in the weeks that followed, he’d had a couple of employees drop by once or twice, and that was it.

But he’d had to limit his social contacts, had to become a loner. And, for the most part, he functioned fine that way. It was only when he saw the contrast between his world and Eve’s, saw how full life could, be, that he grew envious. That was when he wondered what he might’ve been like had he never taken Logan to the river that day. He’d been sixteen, so young and cocky.

Poor Logan had been even younger, only twelve.

I made that jump myself last week...

He cringed every time he remembered saying that, every time he remembered the admiration—and then the determination—on his baby brother’s face. He
had
made that jump, more than once, but it didn’t matter. Logan must’ve veered off to the left or the right or just landed oddly, and that one mistake had cost them everything. Sometimes the regret Rex felt was so tangible he nearly threw up.

“What are you doing?”

Eve had approached him where he was leaning against the wall. “Just waiting, like you.” He offered her some of the coffee he’d been sipping. “You need a jolt?”

“No. I’m too jittery for caffeine. I can’t drink it black, anyway.”

“I can get you a cup of your own.”

“It’s okay. I’m bouncing off the walls as it is.”

He studied her delicate features, the long sweep of her thick eyelashes, her dark hair with its dramatic widow’s peak. “Don’t be worried. Women have babies every day.”

She glanced over her shoulder toward someone else in the room, seemed about to say something, then changed her mind. “There are things that could go wrong. But you must be exhausted after what you’ve been through. Do you want to leave so you can get some rest?”

“No, it’s too late for me to go over to Mrs. Higgins’s. Especially since she isn’t expecting me. I don’t want to give her a heart attack thinking someone’s breaking into her house.”

“Why not go back to my place?”

“And strand you here?”

She gestured at the room full of people. “I can get a ride.”

He wanted to pull her to him, to rest his chin on her head and close his eyes for a few minutes. He would have, except he was already getting too many curious looks from the people he hadn’t met until this evening. “I won’t leave you.”

“But it might be a while yet. I feel bad, now, that I asked you to come.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted.

“What time is it?”

He checked his watch. “Midnight.”

“Baxter should be here by now.”

“
Baxter?
Is that the baby’s name?”

She laughed. “No. That’s a friend who’s coming from San Francisco.”

“As long as he arrives soon, he should make it. This baby doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.”

“A baby’s always on its own clock.”

Was
she
pregnant? As much as he’d tried to forget about the possibility, he couldn’t entirely avoid it. She hadn’t said anything when he’d used a condom since then, hadn’t told him the effort was futile. But he had no idea what she was thinking. Neither of them had planned to be in their current situation.

“Will you be in here in nine months, doing the same thing?” He hadn’t intended to ask. He’d told himself he’d leave without knowing, that he’d ask later, when he’d adjusted to the changes ahead of him. He wasn’t any good for Eve. But the words had slipped out and they’d caught her unawares, too. Her eyes flew to his face and her lips parted, but before she could answer, Baxter walked in and, following a slight hesitation, Eve hurried off to greet her friend.

After that, there was too much commotion to talk about anything serious. Everyone was eager to catch up with the newest addition to the group. Then their friend Gail called from Los Angeles and she and her movie star husband spoke to everyone on someone’s speakerphone. An hour or so after that, Baxter managed to separate himself from the others and walked over to the corner Rex and Eve were occupying.

Rex smiled because they’d already been introduced, but Baxter didn’t speak directly to him. He gave Rex a once-over before shifting his attention to Eve. “This guy looks like he could model for Armani, doesn’t he?”

Eve went a little red. Rex could tell she wasn’t quite comfortable with Baxter’s approach. “He’s definitely handsome.”

Rex wasn’t quite comfortable with the compliment himself. He had no idea what to say. “Thank you” seemed awkward, since Baxter hadn’t been speaking to him. But he couldn’t exactly pipe up with something self-deprecating like “Yeah, well, you should see how screwed up my life is,” either.

Fortunately, he didn’t need to say anything because Baxter didn’t give him the chance. “Where’d you find him? Because if he has a twin brother who happens to be gay I want his number.”

“What?”
Eve said. “You have a partner, remember?”

A hint of sadness entered his face, but he quickly masked it with a sneer. “Yeah, well, maybe not anymore.”

Eve sobered instantly. “What does that mean?”

“Scott stormed out while I was trying to get packed so I could come here.”

“Why?” Eve cried. “Did you get into an argument or—”

“It always causes an argument when I want to see you guys. He didn’t want me to come. Said I should wait until morning, and then we would both drive out for a few hours to see the new baby.”

“For a few hours,” she repeated. “He doesn’t like us.”

“He doesn’t like that you mean so much to me. And he
hates
staying with my parents.”

“Do
you
hate staying with them? Because I could always give you a room at the inn, if there’s an opening.”

“I could never stay anywhere else. It would break my mother’s heart. She doesn’t understand that it’s still a bitch to be around my father. He’s trying so hard to be accepting—or at least his version of accepting, which isn’t quite accepting at all.”

Rex felt he shouldn’t be part of such an intimate conversation. He’d barely met “Bax.” But he couldn’t walk away without seeming rude.

“Are you okay?” Eve asked.

Baxter nodded. “I’m fine. I think. Scott’ll be back. Maybe.”

“Do you really want him to come back if he’s that possessive?” Rex asked. He wasn’t sure where that had come from. He’d just decided he had no business contributing anything. But he saw how much these people meant to one another and hated to see any of them dragged away from the group.

Baxter didn’t seem to mind that he’d involved himself. He glanced over his shoulder to where a guy named Noah was talking to his wife.

“It’s better to be wanted than not, right?”

Eve clutched her friend’s arm. “There’s got to be someone out there who’ll love you for you
and
embrace your family and friends,” she said. But she didn’t get the chance to say more. Dylan appeared in the doorway at that moment and announced that he was the proud father of a healthy, strapping nine-pound, two-ounce baby boy.

After everyone had clapped and hugged one another, Baxter wandered across the room, drawn in by the excitement—and probably eager to avoid the subject that had just been broached. Chaos took hold for a few minutes, until Dylan raised his hands for silence. Then he looked at his brother—Eve had clued Rex in on who was related to whom, but that one was pretty obvious—and choked up a little.

“Cheyenne insisted that I name the baby,” he told everyone.

“So what’s it going to be?” someone called.

“Kellan Aaron Amos,” he replied. “Actually, she suggested Kellan because she saw it on some baby-name site and we both liked it, but...you know where I got the rest.”

When Eve whispered, “Oh, God!” and her gaze cut across the room to Aaron, who went white as a sheet, Rex wasn’t sure that honor was everything it was meant to be. But Dylan was so caught up in all the additional back-patting and good wishes, and assuring everyone that Cheyenne had come through labor and delivery like a champ, he didn’t seem to notice.

The awkward moment passed so quickly Rex was almost convinced he’d imagined it.

* * *

When they finally left the hospital, it was after four. Eve was tired but happy. She’d had a chance to see her best friend, who looked relieved and every bit the excited new mother. Eve had also had the chance to hold the baby, who’d been so exhausted from the ordeal of his birth that he’d hardly whimpered.

After that, everyone had taken turns holding Kellan. Even Aaron had held his namesake, although Eve hadn’t gotten the impression he was too thrilled when Dylan thrust the baby into his arms. He’d smiled and congratulated his brother but passed the newborn off as soon as possible.

Eve had glanced at Cheyenne, but Cheyenne had refused to look back at her. She’d kept a stubborn smile on her face as if nothing was wrong—as if she genuinely believed the baby was Dylan’s and nothing would ever convince her otherwise. And Presley had rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.