A Daughter for Christmas (7 page)

Rachel wished the floor in the rec hall at Tallgrass Community Church would open up and swallow her. Granny wasn't known for being subtle, and this definitely was one of those times she might as well shout her intent
to everyone in the rec hall. “Granny, you haven't told us where you two are going on your honeymoon.”

She snorted. “Honeymoon? We live on a fixed income. We don't have that kind of money, nor do I want to waste it on something like that.”

“Can I treat you to at least a weekend at the Tallgrass Inn by the lake?”

“No, child. I'd rather you give that money you'd pay for the weekend to some cause that needs it. Besides, I have my own plans for this weekend.” Her grin grew, her eyes sparkling. “Doug and I will be just fine. Speaking of Doug, where is that young man? Ah, I see him over by Eileen. I'd better go rescue him. My daughter is probably giving him the riot act right about now.” Granny shuffled toward the opposite side of the large room, filled with friends and family.

“Your grandmother tells it like it is.”

“That's my granny.” The heat of her embarrassment still tinged Rachel's cheeks.

Max surveyed the rec hall. “So, this is your church. How long have you attended?”

“All my life.”

“Your kids have grown up here, too?”

“Yep. Taylor especially loves coming. She's part of the youth group, which is very active. We've talked about her joining the choir because she loves to sing. I wouldn't be surprised if she does soon because she loves Christmas music.”

“Is her faith important to Taylor?”

“A lot of things have changed in the past few years especially since my husband died, but that hasn't thankfully.”

“You don't feel like the Lord has let you down.” A
shadow darkened his eyes as though a memory gripped him—an unpleasant one.

“No, on the contrary. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have Him in my life. He helped me through some tough times.”

“I'm glad He helped you.” The way he'd said the sentence highlighted his disillusionment with God.

His tone saddened Rachel. “But He didn't help you?”

“It was hard to keep my faith when I saw so much suffering and pain in the war. There were some guys I pleaded with the Lord to ease their hurt because I felt helpless to do it.” His voice dropped a level, a thick huskiness in it.

“What happened to those soldiers?” She moved closer to hear his answer in the din around them.

“Some died. Some returned to the States and had to face a long recovery.”

“But that doesn't mean God wasn't there with them. The believers who died went home to the Lord like Lawrence did. The others were never alone unless they chose to be. The Lord doesn't guarantee a pain-free life, only that He'll be with you every step of the way, holding you up.”

“I didn't ask anything for myself.”

“Maybe you should. Maybe you should start a personal dialogue with God.”

Max turned away. “Your sister is waving at you.”

“Oh, I think it's time for Granny and Doug to cut the cake. I have to help serve it.”

“Save me a chocolate piece.”

“That's all there is. My granny might be as bad as you about chocolate.”

“If you're comparing me to your grandmother, then I'll take that as a compliment. She's special.”

Rachel searched for Granny in the crowd. “Yeah, she is.”

Ten minutes later, after her grandmother had cut the cake, then stuffed some into Doug's mouth, laughter besieging both her and her husband, Rachel stood next to Jordan serving the dessert while her sister sliced the masterpiece she'd spent hours making and decorating. When Max approached the table behind Zachary and his attention honed in on Rachel, her hand shook as she stretched it out toward him. His fingers grazed her, and for the life of her she didn't know how she didn't drop the plate with the chocolate cake and thick white icing on it.

“Thanks. This will satisfy my sweet tooth for the time being.” Max sidled down the line to grab some punch and finger sandwiches. He popped a cucumber and cream cheese one into his mouth.

She couldn't pull her attention away from that mouth. What would it be like if he kissed her? The second she thought that she wanted to snatch it back. She had no business thinking about that. Didn't she just declare a few weeks ago she wasn't interested in getting involved with a man?

“Rachel, quit daydreaming. You're falling behind in your duties.” Jordan presented the next woman in line a plate since Rachel couldn't seem to pull her gaze away from Max.

Her younger sister nudged her with an elbow in the side, dragging Rachel back to the here and now although she enjoyed watching Max move away and join Taylor, Eileen and Kevin at a table.

“You have it bad, sis,” Jordan whispered into her ear.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” But as if she had no control over her reactions—and she was beginning to feel that was the case—she blushed, the heat flaming her cheeks.

“Sure, you just keep denying you're interested in a certain new neighbor.”

“Shh. Someone will hear and think you know what you're talking about.”

Jordan went back to slicing the rest of the cake while guests passed by for their treat. But Rachel couldn't help thinking about what her sister said. Her gaze slipped occasionally toward Max. Once, he threw back his head and laughed. Taylor joined him, the sound beautiful to Rachel's ears. Then Kevin leaned forward and said something to them and their laughter increased. Even her mother relaxed and smiled.

When the last of the cake was served, Rachel headed for the table where Max was. There was one seat beside him, and she eased into it.

“This is the best cake,” Max said about eating the last bite of his piece. “Can we have seconds?”

Rachel peered at what was left. “Yes, please do. Otherwise, we'll have to take it home.”

“I wouldn't want you to have to do that,” Max said with a chuckle and stood.

Her mother angled toward Kevin next to her. “Now that you've had a partner for two weeks, how's it working out?”

“I'd forgotten the benefits of working with a partner. Next week I'm going to a conference and he's even taking over my homeschooling class. I did everything I could to warn him.” Kevin threw a glance at Taylor. “Very sharp students who ask a lot of questions. How'd you like your first week?”

“It was fine. Mom's helping me with the home work.”

Rachel had spent hours working with Taylor, especially on reading the material. The large, more difficult vocabulary gave her daughter trouble, but they were using flash cards to help with that.

“Good, Taylor, but if there's anything you need me to explain, stay after and ask me. I don't have any patients after the class so I have the time.”

“I can't believe you take the time to do the class. This parent is very appreciative you do.”

“It was that or tell my sister no. Nancy is very persuasive.”

Rachel was glad that Dr. Nancy Baker had talked her brother into teaching a science course because for the first time in a long while Taylor hadn't put up a fight to learn the subject.

Max returned to the table, bringing two plates. He set the second one out in the middle close to Taylor. “In case anyone else wants another piece.” He looked right at her daughter.

Taylor beamed and slid the cake toward herself. “Thanks.”

“Us chocolate lovers have to stick together.”

“Granny would agree to that.” Taylor cut into the slice and brought it to her mouth, her eyes closing for a few seconds. “Aunt Jordan does make the best.”

“Can I have everyone's attention? I need all unmarried women gathered around me.” Granny waved her arms toward herself, standing in front of the serving table where the remnants of the three-tiered cake, nearly gone, remained.

Rachel stayed in her chair, watching the other ladies weave their way through the crowd toward her grandmother.

When there were twenty women surrounding Granny, she parted the group and looked right at Rachel. “That includes Rachel and Eileen. You two aren't married. Hop to it. I don't have all day. Every second counts for me.”

Rachel groaned. She didn't want to get up in front of everyone to vie for the bride's bouquet. When she approached Granny, she said, “This is for ladies who have never been married.”

“Yeah, Mom.” Eileen leaned around Rachel. “I'm too old for this.”

“Only in your mind. Lighten up. Enjoy.”

Granny shuffled back to the front of the group of women. “Okay, line up behind me and I'll toss my flowers to the next person who will be getting married.”

Rachel tried to sidle away, but Granny sent her a sharp look so she inched back to the edge of the crowd. Her grandmother turned around, brought her hand with the bouquet in it down, then raised it. Right before she released the flowers, she peeked over her shoulders and aimed it right at Rachel. She hadn't intended to go for the bouquet, but it hit her square in the chest and on reflex she grabbed it before it fell to the floor.

A cheer went up around her.

Her mother patted her on her back. “Glad it was you, not me. I was afraid Granny had an agenda.”

Yeah, one to embarrass me.
The fragrance of the roses wafted to Rachel. Their scent brought back memories of her own wedding and marriage. She'd had a good one, so why was she afraid to get involved with a man? By the time she'd married Lawrence, she'd known him for two years. He'd been a mentor then a friend before she'd ever had any deeper feelings. She'd known Lawrence would never leave her willingly—like her father had.

Granny slowly made her way to Rachel. “My aim is
as good as ever. Some things peter out with age but for me not that.”

“Nor your interfering, Granny. I'm not on the market.” Rachel tried to put a stern tone to her voice, but when she looked into her grandmother's pleased, happy expression, she couldn't.

“I hope you got the hint. I like our new neighbor. And besides, he's determined to get that fudge recipe and the only way that poor man can is to marry into the family. We wouldn't want to disappoint him, would we?” Then her grandmother sauntered toward Doug.

And now Granny lived even closer to Max—right next door rather than down the street.

“I
enjoyed today. I never knew there were that many germs on common things.” Taylor fastened her seat belt in Max's Mustang after science class the following week.

“Most of the germs are harmless. Some people think we are too obsessed with cleanliness, that children don't build up their immunities like we used to.” Max pulled out of his parking space at his office.

“What do you think?”

“I'm usually a middle-of-the-road kind of guy. Not extreme on either side of the argument. That's why we're studying germs this week and learning when and where to be more careful. Especially with flu season here.”

“It was weird but fun.”

“Weird?”

“I've never seen a germ under a microscope. I never thought of it as moving around.”

“Yeah, they are a life-form. If you need any help on your presentation about Louis Pasteur, I can help.”

“That probably wouldn't be fair since you're the teacher. I wouldn't want anyone to accuse me of being a teacher's pet. Believe me, I've never been one.”

“But I'm only your teacher this week and the presentation isn't until next week.”

“Nicholas offered to help me. He could if Mom's busy. My brothers can be a handful at times.”

Something in her voice made Max slant a look at her. “What's wrong?”

“I shouldn't have to get a child years younger than me to help me. I don't care if he's a genius. It should be the other way around.”

“Nicholas is unusual. You shouldn't compare yourself to anyone. If you do your best, then you're doing what you should. That's all you should expect.”

“But it's hard. I want to do good, but…”

Scenes from his own childhood paraded across his thought—the struggles, the self-berating. “But reading doesn't come easy.”

“No. It takes me forever to read a chapter and then I forget what I've read.”

“You may not want to hear it, but what you need to do is practice even more. The more I read as a child the better I got.”

“But you're a doctor. Smart.”

Max pulled into his driveway, switched off his engine, then shifted toward Taylor, hoping he could do something to help his daughter. “It wasn't always like that. When I was in elementary school I had a lot of trouble with reading. I couldn't seem to learn using the phonetics method, which is what they taught at my school. I even went to a reading clinic. I was so embarrassed. I wouldn't tell any of my friends.”

Her green eyes, so like his, widened. “What did you do?”

“I got mad. First at myself. Then at my parents. Then I just got mad and decided I wasn't going to let it win. To
tell you the truth, I didn't even know what it was. Now I do.”

“What?”

“An auditory processing problem. I don't hear sounds like others do so that means I have to work extra hard to compensate.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, having a learning disability, which is what they call it today, doesn't mean you aren't smart. It does mean you might have to do things a little different from others, from how it's normally done at school. But you have the chance to do that with your homeschooling.”

“How so?” Puzzlement greeted his look, her forehead puckered.

“Like I said, practice more than most have to. If you can't learn reading by the sounds, then you may have to memorize what others don't have to. I know it's a lot of extra work, but the end result is worth it.”

She twisted her mouth into a thoughtful expression. “You really had trouble?”

“I failed reading in third grade. My fourth-grade teacher brought me to tears once. That's when I got mad and decided I had to do something to change the situation.”

“And you didn't have any problems after that?”

“I didn't say that. I still struggled when I came up against something I wasn't familiar with. Like science. In junior high I hated it. By the time I got to high school, I began to like science, especially how everything worked. The human body is remarkable. My favorite class became anatomy. It was the hardest A I made in high school.”

“Hmm.” Taylor pushed open her door and grabbed her book bag.

Max climbed from the car and peered at her over
the top of it. Her features visible still in the dim light of dusk, he saw something that gave him hope he'd helped her. She was thinking about what he'd said. That was a start.

“Thanks for bringing me home.”

“Anytime.”

She jogged across the street toward her house. Max watched her make it safely to her porch before heading toward his own home. When he let himself inside, the emptiness that suddenly surrounded him as he moved through the rooms to the kitchen produced a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted more than a few minutes here and there with his daughter.

 

“Mom, do I hafta do this? Will and Sam don't.” Taylor shook the rake she held toward her little brothers watching Max remove their training wheels from their bikes. “They get to have fun with Max while I work.”

“I'm raking, too.” Rachel stood in the middle of a blanket of leaves, her attention straying toward her sons with Max.

“Max was supposed to help me with my presentation for science today.” The corners of Taylor's mouth dipped down in a pout. “He probably forgot.”

“He hasn't forgotten. He told me he planned to later this afternoon.”

“I can't believe I have to do school on Saturday.” Taylor attacked the dead leaves scattered around her.

“We've talked about this. We set the time for homeschooling. And besides, today you're doing homework like you would if you were in regular school.”

“I'm first,” Will shouted in the driveway.

“No, I am. I'm the oldest.” Sam got on his bicycle and nearly fell to the concrete.

Rachel dropped her rake and marched toward the twins. She had been afraid this would happen. They had become quite competitive with each other lately. Why was her whole family falling apart?

Before she had a chance to say anything, Max stepped between the boys. “Will asked first, so he'll go first.” He looked pointedly at Sam, who hung his head.

Rachel slowed her pace.

“You two will get the same amount of practice. No one will have more than the other. Tomorrow I'll start with Sam if we need to work some more.” Max lifted his head and locked gazes with Rachel.

She came to a stop a few feet from the trio. Her heartbeat reacted to the twinkling expression in his eyes, tapping a fast staccato against her chest. “Do you need any help?” The breathless quality to her voice spoke of his effect on her. She couldn't deny she was attracted to him any longer.

“Nah. Will, Sam and I understand each other. Don't we?” He didn't take his attention from Rachel.

And she didn't from him. But her sons piped in an enthusiastic yes. “Good. I know they appreciate you helping them.” She finally tore her look from him and took in both boys.

They nodded, both gripping the handlebars of their bikes. They were miniature Lawrences with blond hair, dark brown eyes and clefts in their chins, reminding her of her husband.

“Good.” She whirled around and strode toward her daughter. Her wedding band gleamed in the sunlight, mocking her recent thoughts about Max.

Her children would never understand her interest in
another man besides their father. They had been through so much in the past few years she didn't want to disrupt their lives anymore, especially Taylor. She had to think of them, not herself, now.

For the next hour she raked leaves alongside her daughter while Max helped Will and Sam ride without their training wheels. Once Will crashed and she started for him, but before she'd gotten three steps, her son jumped up, dusted off his jeans and hopped back on. Max held on to the back of the seat a little longer than previously before he let go. Will rode on the sidewalk all the way down to his grandmother's house, five away.

He came to a stop, twisted around on the seat, beaming from ear to ear. “I did it! I did it!”

Max gave him a high five then followed Will back toward her.

“Are you all ready for some hot chocolate?” Rachel asked as she filled the last bag with leaves.

Taylor carried it to the curb. “Yes.”

“Great. We'll do the backyard another time.” Rachel picked up both rakes and followed her boys to the open garage to put up their bikes. “Max, would you like some hot chocolate?”

He tapped his finger against his chin. “Let me see. I love chocolate in any form. I wonder what my answer will be.” An impish gleam danced in his eyes.

She playfully slapped him against his arm. “I'm assuming no. Am I right?”

“I'll turn down chocolate when pigs learn to fly.”

“Pigs can't fly,” Sam chimed in as he opened the door into the house.

“It's just a saying sort of like the man in the moon. Not possible.” Max tousled Sam's hair and trailed him inside.

“But a man was on the moon. Pigs flying I don't see unless they ride in an airplane.” Taylor pressed her lips together to contain a giggle that burst forth anyway.

Max nodded his head. “You've got a point. I suppose anything is possible.”

“Yeah, through the Lord,” his daughter said, shrugging out of her coat and placing it on the hook by the door.

Max blinked, his eyes growing wide. He slowly smiled. “Then what we talked about a few days ago is possible.”

Taylor paused, throwing a pensive look over her shoulder at Max. “I suppose.”

Will pulled Taylor's hand. “I want to show you what I built this morning.”

“Yeah, I helped him.” Sam ran out of the room behind his siblings.

“No, you didn't. You almost caused it to topple.” Will blocked Sam from passing him.

“I was helping.”

While Rachel's kids continued to argue, Max watched them disappear down the hall toward the den, then shifted toward her. “I can go referee if you want.”

“Nah, I'll step in when I hear shouting. Taylor will handle it. She's good with them.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He moved closer to her. “Do you need any help with the hot chocolate?”

“Like the fudge recipe, I work until I master this. I boil water then stir in a package of mix. I think I can handle it.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “A package mix?”

“Ah, don't tell me you fix it from scratch.” She switched on the burner to heat water.

“Then I won't.”

She crossed her arms. “Don't say a word to my kids about that, or they'll start insisting I do. Quilting is my hobby, not cooking.”

He chuckled. “And you wouldn't catch me holding a sewing needle. My lips are sealed. Not a word about my special recipe.”

“If not, I'll send the kids over every time they want hot chocolate, which in winter is about every day.” Trying her best not to stare at those lips he was talking about, she rummaged through the pantry until she found her mix.

“I'll keep that in mind. But one day I'll have to prepare it for you all.” Max lounged against the counter dangerously close to her. “Speaking of your quilting, when do I get to see the one you're working on?”

As she set five mugs on a tray, she slid a look sideways. She could reach out and graze her fingertips over those lips so easily. Instead, she balled her hands and kept them down. “After I deliver these to the kids. My newest one is in the den. This one is for Jordan and her family.”

“Sounds like a labor of love.”

“All of mine are, but this one is special. It will be their first Christmas together as a family. In fact, this Thanksgiving will be a first, too. We're having a huge gathering at the ranch this year.” She finished preparing the hot chocolate and lifted the tray. “If you don't have plans for Thanksgiving, why don't you come with us to Jordan's?”

“Other than cooking my turkey for one, no, I don't have plans.”

“No one should be by themselves at the holidays. I hope you'll come.”

“Are you sure? Don't you need to ask your sister?”

“Ha! She'd be mad if I didn't ask you. Kevin is coming. Since his wife died, he's come every year.”

When she mentioned Kevin's wife, Max's forehead crinkled, his eyes darkening. What happened with Max and his wife? She sensed whatever it was left a mark on him—one that went deep into his soul.

“If you're sure, I'd love to. I don't relish spending Thanksgiving by myself.” A hint of vulnerability threaded his words.

She made her way toward the den, wanting to help him. He'd been hurt, and it sounded as if he hadn't healed yet. “You can count yourself part of the family this holiday.”

Inside the room, Rachel set the tray on the gaming table. Immediately her children flocked to her and grabbed the nearest mug. She gave one to Max and took the last cup while her sons went back to their tower they had started this morning.

“Taylor, do you want me to help you with your presentation?” Max took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I'll get the laptop and show you what I've got so far. Pasteur came up with the germ theory.” Taylor put her mug on the tray and hurried toward the hall.

A faraway look came into his eyes as he observed Taylor leaving. “Where's that quilt?” he finally asked, returning his attention to Rachel.

Had he wanted children with his wife? A wistful expression often captured his face when he was with her kids. “You know I never asked if you have children?”

“A girl.”

“Where is she?”

“With a good family.” He spotted the quilt lying over a lounge chair by the window and stepped toward it. “Is this what you're working on?”

A shutter descended over his features but not before she glimpsed the pain in his eyes he couldn't mask fast enough. The subject was taboo. Whatever happened with his wife most likely involved his daughter and a great deal of hurt. Her heart went out to him. She knew how important her children were to her. Maybe one day he would share it with her and possibly then his burden that was eating at him.