"Cadillac," he replied.
Sharon tilted her head. "Why Cadillac?"
Joe's eyes reflected a mischievous gleam. "Because he'll be big and expensive."
Sharon looked at the pup, then back at Joe. "Great." She teased him back, "I'll call him Cad for short and think of you every time I buy another bag of dog food."
"As long as you think of me."
Sharon searched suspiciously for a teasing glint, but found none. She thought about him, all right, far more than she should.
"You've been a good friend, Joe," she said softly as she stroked the puppy's fur.
He jammed his hands into his pockets and said, "I get the message, Mrs. Quinn."
Sharon was startled by the pain in his voice and felt a rush of longing. She hadn't meant to hurt Joe, but didn't think she was ready to give in to the hunger that tore her apart.
In her heart, she was still Tom's wife.
Joe drew her like no other man had, but...something held her back. It was too soon. But he'd brought a gift, after all, and she could be hospitable.
"Come on in, Joe. I want you to show Caddy to the boys." When he hesitated, she handed him the dog, refusing to take no for an answer.
Sharon's sons were in the kitchen, preparing their third
snack of the evening. She pushed open the door a crack, and Joe set Caddy down inside the room.
David and Luke didn't notice at first, but soon, the puppy bounded toward them.
"Wow, what's this?!" Luke said as the bundle of fur stopped at his feet. Luke spotted his mother, and looked surprised to see Joe.
The teenager squatted beside the dog and lifted him up. "Whose is he? What's his name?"
Joe stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the table. "His name's Cadillac. He's yours and David's."
"Ours? Do you mean it?" He rubbed noses with the pup. "Cadillac, what a classy name."
"It does fit him," David added as he ruffled the dog's fur. "Thanks, Joe."
Luke pumped Joe's hand. "Yeah, thanks; he's great!"
Tom hadn't wanted the kids to have a dog because he didn't think they'd take care of one, Sharon thought, but Cadillac was obviously just what they needed. She only hoped she didn’t have to refinance the house to feed him. They all followed the puppy into the living room.
Sharon telegraphed a silent thanks to Joe for his thoughtful gift as they watched her sons rolling on the floor with their new pet.
Joe stared back with his dark eyes full of secret promises. Or was that wishful thinking on her part?
Joe seemed to enjoy watching the boys and the dog, but Sharon spent more time watching him as he threw his head back and laughed.
When he finally caught her staring, their gazes locked and held for a long time.
Sharon was the first to look away, stunned by the intensity of her feelings. When she glanced back, Joe was getting ready to leave. He said goodnight to the boys and wished them a Merry Christmas. They thanked him once again.
Sharon walked him to the door, and followed him outside. When he took her hand and lead her to the car, she didn't protest, but gripped him tightly. She hated to see him go, but knew he must. Maybe she should have tried to convince him to stay through the holiday.
He turned and raised his other hand to touch her hair, then held her chin as he lowered his head. Sharon trembled with anticipation.
Chapter Five
When his mouth touched hers, Sharon knew she should pull away, but he felt so good. With a sense of abandon, she slid her arms around his neck and savored his kiss shamelessly, forgetting that one of the boys might open the door at any minute.
Slowly, reality seeped into her consciousness and she did remember her sons.
Joe lifted his head as if reading her thoughts, as he so often seemed to do.
"You've made this a better Christmas," she said. "Thank you for being so wonderful."
He grinned crookedly. "I was hoping you'd notice."
"I did," she said solemnly. "Have a nice Christmas, Joe."
"You, too. I don't want to go. You know that, don't you?"
She nodded. Joe released her and climbed into the car, then cast one last lingering look as if he might never see her again. Sharon didn't go back into the house until he'd driven out of sight. He'd become so much a part of her life, an important part, that Sharon felt as if a piece of herself had gone with him.
As Joseph drove away, he saw Serena's reflection in the rearview mirror. He'd half expected to hear from her after the kiss he'd allowed himself.
Serena had already denied his request to spend Christmas in Hollow Bend.
"You're a pushover during the Christmas season," she'd chided gently. "You need a break, some time to regroup."
"Aren't angels supposed to be sentimental about Christmas?"
But she'd seen through him, as always. "Don't you remember the time you performed miracles without thinking it through? You almost gave yourself away."
When he didn't answer, she went on, "Joseph, once the Quinn family makes it through this holiday, they'll be well on the way to healing."
Joseph felt icy fingers clutch his heart. "Does this mean my assignment is over?" he asked her reflection.
"They still need you, Joseph. Besides, your teaching contract isn't up until June."
"You know, you haven't fully explained this mission to me. How will I know when I've completed it?"
"Oh, don't worry about that, my friend, you'll know." She paused, then, "One more thing, Joseph. You won't be able to watch over them through this holiday. Use this time to think over your options for the future."
An overwhelming sadness swept through Joseph at the thought of leaving Sharon and the boys. He could weave a spell of forgetfulness for them, but how would he prepare himself?
As fluffy snowflakes began to fall, Serena disappeared from view. Joseph felt a little better knowing that Caddy would be there to see the Quinns through a white Christmas.
On Christmas Eve, Sharon felt an overwhelming pull to attend Midnight Mass as they'd always done. But the experience had invariably been an intensely emotional one, and she wasn't quite up to it this year.
The service marked a new beginning. Was she ready to acknowledge the beginning of her new life, while she still hung onto the old?
"Do you mind if I go?" David asked when the clock struck ten-thirty.
Sharon studied her serious-minded son and wondered if he was strong enough to survive through life's crises. She hoped so. She had learned, just barely, to take one day at a time. Each step would lead to another, then another, until finally, the pain would go away. She prayed that it was so.
"I'm going with David," Luke said, and glanced at his mother. "If you'll be okay alone."
"I'll be fine. I've got Caddy to protect me, remember?" The dog perked up his ears, but showed no other sign of life.
"I bet he'll be a real tiger," Luke remarked, "just look at the fire in those eyes." He stroked the soft fur. "Caddy, open your eyes so we can see the sparks."
The dog rolled over on his back with his feet in the air, then continued to snore softly.
Sharon shook her head, envying the canine's ability to relax so completely. "I certainly feel safe, knowing he's on guard."
They opened gifts and snacked on a cheese ball, crackers, nuts, and Christmas cookies before David and Luke left for church.
It was with a great effort that Sharon kept a smile on her face until her sons had driven away.
With her arms at her sides and her hands clenched, she slowly climbed the stairs. As she entered the master bedroom, a cold chill traveled through her body. It had been almost six months since Tom's death, and Sharon still slept in the guest room.
She switched on the light and knelt beside the knotty pine treasure chest at the foot of the bed. The hinges squeaked as she opened the lid and lifted the photo albums, one by one, and set them on the burgundy carpet. She'd thought about this for a long time.
With a strong determination, Sharon opened the first book. Memories flung at her like weightless bodies drifting through space. She forced herself to study each page, while tears welled in her eyes. A husky, blond, forever-young Tom dazzled her from the worn pages.
She stared at one picture after another, needing to remember. His image was already fading, and she hadn't expected that to happen. Not so soon.
The pain inside gradually dulled to a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. She saw Tom's billfold on a small shelf inside the chest. The Sheriff had given it to her the day of the accident, and she'd quickly hidden it away.
Sharon reached for it and ran her fingers over the smooth leather. She'd given it to him last Christmas.
Looking inside, she removed the driver's license, credit cards, and photos. His favorite had been a family portrait taken on a summer picnic. The boys had grown so much since then.
A small piece of paper fluttered out of the dollar bill compartment. Sharon picked it up and read it. It was only an address. Thirteen-forty Milford Drive, Portland, Oregon. And a phone number.
Who did they know that lived in Portland? It must have been a business associate of Tom's. She tucked the scrap into the wallet and returned the priceless albums to their place.
If only she could put her memories aside just as easily.
But did she want to? Didn't the memory of Tom keep him alive in a special way? Yes, but it also made it impossible for her to live her own life, and she must. What was the delicate balance between grief and acceptance?
She sighed and closed the lid to the chest.
I'd better freshen up, she thought, the boys will be home soon.
Joseph silently watched Sharon through the painful process of remembering. He tried, through the strength of his will, to take some of her suffering upon himself. He couldn't tell if he'd succeeded.
He knew that grief traveled a series of steps to acceptance, but he wished once more that he could hurry the Quinn family through them.
Serena had forbidden his request a second time.
"Patience, Joseph," she'd said.
Even now, he was bending the rules by being with Sharon now, even if only in spirit. Serena had warned him against it.
When tears welled in Sharon's eyes, his own eyes grew moist. "I'm here," he whispered, and knew he always would be, even if she couldn't see him.
When she placed her treasures back into the chest and squared her shoulders, Joseph was proud of her strength. I hope
I
can be as strong, he muttered, then glanced around quickly to see if any of the other guardians had heard.
On Christmas day, they drove down to see the McIvers, taking Caddy along. The light snow had rendered the road a little slippery, and Sharon drove slowly. They should have spent Christmas Eve with her folks, but Sharon had wanted to keep any celebration brief.
As she'd feared, this season was far more difficult than Thanksgiving had been, maybe because the numbness had completely worn off and the enormity of what had happened to her family had finally sunk in.
Sharon was happy to see her parents. It was nice to know that some things didn't change.
Bea and Harry loved to watch the boys open their gifts and were enchanted with Caddy who performed to expectations. That is, they were until Harry found the pup chewing on one of his favorite slippers.
"They call you a saint, eh?" he chuckled, rescuing the shoe.
Caddy covered his eyes with his paws as if he were sorry for the misdeed. When her father asked where they'd gotten the dog. Sharon said, "From a friend," and dropped it at that.