Kathleen Creighton - Silhouette Christmas Stories

Darius's big blue eyes, so like his father's and his Uncle Grant's, grew solemn at that memory. "But I need a real live daddy, too."

She rumpled Darius's black hair. "A daddy is… well… er… That's a very complicated present."

"That's why I asked Santa, Mom. 'Cause he's magic."

Noreen remained silent. She turned helplessly back to Santa, who had been eavesdropping. But Santa was no help. With a merry jingling of tiny bells, he just tipped his hat and gave her an audacious wink.

For a moment she remembered her marriage, Larry's death, Grant, the bitter loss of it all. And suddenly she was so cold inside that she could feel nothing else.

Noreen was in a hurry now, a hurry to leave the mall and make it to the Casa Rio by one-thirty to meet Sara and Jim and their brood. She had shopped in a frenzy ever since she'd found out what Darius really wanted for Christmas. She couldn't provide the father he wanted, but she could get him other things. Now she was so loaded down with bags that she could no longer hold them all, and Darius was even carrying the two he'd bought for Leo and another friend.

They were on the escalator when the nightmare she had dreaded for five long years became a reality.

There was no time to prepare. No time to run. She and Darius were trapped on that gliding silver stairway.

They were going down.

Her ex brother-in-law was going up.

Fortunately, Grant wasn't looking in her direction when she saw him. She went rigid with shock, turned her head away, and lifted her shaking hand to cover her features. But not before his harsh, set face had etched itself into her brain, and into her heart and soul, as well.

He looked tired. Tired and haggard in a way that wrenched her heart.

But he was as handsome as ever. He was taller than other men, and broader through the shoulders. So tall he dwarfed her in comparison. His face was lean and dark, his hair as thick and black and unruly as her own, his eyes the same dazzling blue she remembered, his mouth still as beautifully shaped.

As if she could have forgotten him.

As if any woman could.

Her heart was beating like a mad thing gone wild. She was almost safe. They were gliding past each other. She would probably never see him again. Why would she? He was a Hale and, no doubt, by now one of the most powerful lawyers in San Antonio. She was a nobody, a small-town librarian.

How many nights had she dreamed of him? He had probably never given her another thought.

A fatal impulse possessed her. Forgetting her fears for Darius, forgetting she was risking her new life in doing so, she couldn't resist glancing over her shoulder for one last glimpse of him.

She did so just when Grant was looking back.

Their eyes met.

And so did their souls. One fleeting instant of mutual longing bound them before other, darker emotions stormed to the surface.

Slowly his black brows drew together-in a smoldering rage or in hate, she did not know which. Terror welled up in her.

Fortunately, the moving escalators were crowded. Fortunately, the railing was high, and Grant couldn't see that she was with a child.

"Norie!"

The husky sound of his voice crying her name cut her like a knife.

Grant shouted a second time as she scrambled to get off the escalator, pulling Darius, juggling packages.

One of her packages fell. She looked back. Her new pair of sparkly red high heels had tumbled out of their box. But she raced on, into the nearest store where she grabbed a wild assortment of jeans and tops and took Darius with her into a tiny dressing room.

There she stayed for an hour, reading to Darius in a whispery voice from one of the storybooks she.had bought for the school library.

A long time later, a saleslady called to them. "Does anything fit?"

She heard male voices in the next fitting room, saw a pair of male legs on the other side of the divider of her stall. It was only then that Noreen noticed she'd grabbed men's jeans, and she and Darius were hiding in the men's fitting room.

She began to laugh silently, a little hysterically, and Darius watched her with huge worried eyes.

When Noreen and Darius were a breathless thirty minutes late to the Casa Rio, the Liskas were too dear to criticize.

They were a handsome couple. Jim was tall and dark, gentle and strong. His wife had soft brown hair, brown eyes, and a sweet face. They'd been high school sweethearts and had one of the happiest marriages Noreen had ever seen.

Noreen sank down beside them, offering neither excuses nor explanations, and let Jim order her lunch.

Sara, who'd grown up in a small town and simply adored gossip, studied Noreen's white face with avid curiosity.

Fortunately, before Sara could start quizzing her, the children took over. First Leo knocked over his soda. Then Darius tried to feed a chip dipped in hot sauce to a pigeon, leaned back too far in his chair, and nearly fell into the river.

At last the chaos of lunch was over and the Liskas had bribed Raymond to take his younger siblings and Darius off to ride the paddleboats.

The table was set in a cool and shady spot. Mariachi music was being played softly in the background. Sunlight sparkled on the river and shimmered in the golden leaves overhead. Jim, who worked as a science teacher at the same school Noreen did, was finishing the last of his beer. Sara was holding his hand. Noreen sipped her cup of tea.

"We'd better enjoy this before the kids come back," Sara said. "Noreen, the kids were terrible in the mall. I guess it's just that they're all so excited. Leo wanted everything in sight. Raymond kept teasing him, telling him he'd been so bad Santa was bringing switches this year. How was Darius?"

"He told Santa that he wants a daddy."

Jim put down his beer bottle. His dark eyes lit with humor. "That's certainly going to set the town on its edge. I can just see the headline now: Town's Mystery Librarian Gets Son A Daddy!"

Noreen didn't smile. "Darius is getting older. He wants things that I can't always give him. I'm not quite sure what to do about him anymore."

"No parent ever is," Sara said.

A devilish half smile curved Jim's mouth as he pulled his hand free of Sara's and leaned toward Noreen. "I think Darius has a good point. He does need a daddy. But no more than you need a husband."

"What? If ever I heard a chauvinistic remark-"

"Jim's full of them," Sara said placidly.

"You've practically buried yourself alive these past five years," Jim continued.

"Why, that's not true. I stay very busy with my job and with Darius. You know I'm as involved as anybody in civic projects."

"You're still the town mystery," Jim persisted. "You came to town five years ago-pregnant and single."

"That sounds so deliciously sinful," Sara said, "like a soap opera or something. You know it wasn't like that."

"I was a widow," Noreen replied tautly.

"Who still wears her wedding band, but goes by her maiden name. People know just what you want them to know. They know you're the school librarian."

"And a good one," Sara said, still trying to make peace.

"They know you moved in with Miss Maddie, that you inherited her farmhouse last year after she died. Not that anyone thinks you shouldn't have. Not after the way you took care of her after she went blind. They know that in the summers you hold the best story hour in the county every Wednesday morning at 10:00 sharp. They know you're a woman without pretensions. You're as plain as earth. As simple as water."

"Thanks." Noreen still wasn't smiling.

"I meant it as a compliment."

"Don't be mad, Norie," Sara said, folding her hand over Jim's again. "That's the way he compliments me, too."

"If I'm so ordinary, then why can't people be satisfied that there's nothing to know?"

"Because you don't talk about your past. You're running away from something or someone. And everyone wants to know who or what."

"Why-why, that's nonsense." But Noreen's slim fingers were so tensely clenched around her teacup that every vein stood out.

Jim leaned over and gently unclenched her hand. "Is it? Then why don't you accept a date with Mike Yanta the next time he asks you out?"

"Because… "

She looked at Jim and then looked away. Her dark eyes grew luminous with a pain she could neither share nor explain.

Her two dear friends would never understand. They didn't know she was a Hale by marriage. They knew nothing of her wealthy background. They wouldn't understand if she tried to explain.

People like them would have considered the Hale wealth and power a blessing. They wouldn't know that money could be the crudest of weapons. It could be used to destroy love, to wield power, to sever the closest bonds that could exist between a man and a woman.

Noreen had learned all about money and its misuse by bitter experience. First she had lost the man she loved. Then she had lost her husband. She was determined not to lose her son.

Unbidden came the memory of Grant Hale on the escalator… Of his arrogant tanned face… Of his husky voice calling her name…

Noreen was shivering as she gripped the steering wheel of her truck and strained forward to see through her fogging windshield. The last lights of the town were growing dimmer in her rearview mirror. The sky ahead was black; the narrow, curving road that led to her farmhouse treacherously slick with ice. And it was still sleeting.

Texas weather. Yesterday San Antonio had been sunny and warm, so warm it had been impossible to believe that today could be this dark and wintry with cold.

Because she didn't like driving the lonely road by herself, Mike Yanta had offered to follow her home. But she had known he would have expected an invitation to come in, so she had refused.