Cole's Christmas Wish (9 page)

“And typically more eloquent,” he called out loudly.

Her response was a resounding slam of the office door. Cole
glanced at the pad of paper with Gavin Daugherty’s name written on it. If the
man didn’t come around today, Cole would grab a coffee at the Beanery and quiz
Lola. She knew everyone.

And then, he’d see if he had cause to be concerned or not.

* * *

Rachel stared longingly at the skiers traveling up the
mountain on chairlifts and even more longingly at those she could spy zipping
back down. Andrew had been true to his word—his phone call had been quick, and
breakfast had been pleasant. They’d relaxed, chatted about this and that, and a
full hour-and-a-half had gone by without his phone ringing once.

Unfortunately, Cole had nailed it when he’d offered to take
Andrew to the bunny slope. As fit and athletic as Andrew was, he simply was not
a natural skier. It didn’t make any sense. He loved sports, went on a
white-water rafting trip every summer with some of his friends, spent almost as
much time in the gym as he did at work and enjoyed running.

Skiing, however, was not progressing well.

“Okay,” she said after they’d sidestepped to the top of the
gentle slope for the—oh, tenth or so time. “Try to remember to keep your head
up, so you can see where you’re going. Keep your skis parallel with each other,
and don’t be afraid to use your poles for balance.”

“I understand the basics, Rachel,” Andrew said, frustration
evident in his demeanor and his voice. “I just don’t seem to be able to put that
understanding to practical use.”

“What, exactly, are you having problems with?”

“I would have to say...skiing.”

She almost laughed. With Cole, she would’ve. But Andrew rarely
joked. “Perhaps we should stick with flat ground for a while,” Rachel said,
trying to remember the long, long ago day she’d first learned to ski. Her father
had taught her. It happened to be one of her better memories. “You can practice
sliding backward and forward, get a better feel of how the skis respond without
going downhill. We probably should’ve started with that.”

She would’ve, for sure, if she hadn’t been under the impression
that Andrew had already learned the basics. As it was, the thought hadn’t
occurred to her.

“I’m sorry. This can’t be very enjoyable for you,” Andrew said,
jabbing his poles hard into the snow. “But I’ll figure it out.”

“Spending any time with you is enjoyable,” Rachel said firmly.
And of course, that was true. What type of person would she be if it weren’t?
“And you’ll absolutely get the hang of skiing. At some point, you’ll quit
thinking so hard and your body will just react instinctively.” She smiled and
slid forward, patted Andrew’s arm. “Until then, we’ll keep practicing.”

“Keep falling, you mean,” Andrew said, surprising her with an
actual joke. “But okay. Flat ground, huh?”

“For a while. Until you feel a little more comfortable. First,
though,” she said, jerking her chin toward the small slope they stood on top of,
“we have to get to the bottom again.”

“I have a feeling I’m using muscles I didn’t know existed, and
that I’ll feel every one of those muscles tomorrow.” He nodded, breathed in
deeply and carefully slid into place. “Here I go. Head up, skis parallel, use
poles for balance.”

“Yep. Just push off gently, once or twice, and let the snow
carry you. Remember to lean forward and vee the skis as you approach the bottom,
in order to stop.”

Andrew quirked an eyebrow. “Or,” he said drily, “I can use the
veer-out-of-control-until-you-lose-your-balance-and-crash-to-a-stop method. I’ve
found that works quite well.”

“Was that two jokes in a row, Mr. Serious?” She grinned and let
her amusement bubble into a laugh. “Wedge your skis, balance your weight forward
a tad, and you won’t fall. Promise.”

“Uh-huh, if you say so.” He pulled in another breath, nodded
and pushed off. She waited before following, mentally crossing her fingers and
darn-near holding her breath to see if he’d make it to the bottom without his
typical crash landing.

He went down the slope easily enough, but as he approached the
bottom, his body swayed forward a smidgen too far, and he veered wildly to the
left. She was sure he was going to fall, again, but he managed to catch his
balance and come to an awkward, skidding halt.

Still standing, even. He turned toward her and raised his poles
in a celebratory gesture. Her smile widened and she returned the gesture before
sliding down to meet him.

“See? This isn’t so hard,” she said when she stopped next to
him. “Before too long, you’ll find this little ole slope boring as all get out
and you’ll wonder why you ever thought skiing was difficult. Heck, I bet we’ll
be up there—” she pointed toward the peak she’d been eyeing earlier “—before
Christmas.”

Andrew’s ruddy-from-the-cold complexion blanched. “That sounds
terrific, Rachel. I only hope you won’t be overly disappointed if that doesn’t
happen. I... Well, I don’t seem to have a natural inclination toward skiing, now
do I?”

She pieced together their various conversations, thought of the
recreational activities he
didn’t
take part of—such
as mountain climbing and bungee jumping—and suddenly, she got it. “You’re afraid
of heights, aren’t you?”

“I’m not afraid,” he said with a slight lift of his shoulders.
“I just don’t particularly like them, which is why I’ve never bothered to learn
how to ski. It isn’t a huge deal.”

“Cole’s wrong. Women aren’t confusing, men are.” She shook her
head, exasperated. “Why did you let me drag you here, then, Andrew? There is
plenty for us to do on vacation. Skiing does not have to be one of our
activities.”

“You enjoy the sport. I...was trying to make you happy.” He
shrugged again in a stiff, almost embarrassed manner. “I enjoy your
happiness.”

“I can be just as happy doing something else,” she said as
warmth and contentment settled over her. Andrew truly was a great guy. A solid,
dependable man who had a lot to give the right woman. She
wanted
to be that woman. It would make perfect sense.

She waited for her pulse to speed up, for her heart to melt and
her knees to shake...for anything other than the sweet simplicity of warmth and
contentment to envelop her. None of which occurred. Why not? Why couldn’t she
feel more for Andrew?

What she did feel...was that enough? She didn’t know, but she
was beginning to believe that might be the best she could attain. Not only with
Andrew, though.

With any man who wasn’t Cole.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, refusing to dwell on what
she could never have. “We’re going to find a Christmas tree.”

“Thank God,” Andrew said with a relieved grin. He bent down to
unclasp the bindings on his skis, and then one by one, stepped out of them. When
he stood straight again, he pulled her to him for a kiss. A long, slow kiss that
should have set her blood on fire.

But...no. Not even a flicker. The absence of that surprised
her. Oh, their kisses had never ignited a blazing inferno, but they’d certainly
held heat. Now, though, she felt nothing. Not even a barely there spark. What
had happened?

Instinctively, and without considering how Andrew might take
it, she yanked herself out of his hold and removed her skis. “I was thinking
after the tree, we could—”

“What’s wrong, Rachel?” Andrew asked.

“Nothing’s wrong!” she lied. “We’re in public, for one thing.
And... Well, I’m excited about getting a tree and decorating. I’ve wanted to for
days, you know.”

She hadn’t meant to infer anything about Andrew’s workaholic
nature, or even how he’d barely left her father’s office for the past two days.
Truly. Her goal had only been to offer an excuse for her behavior, to give her
some space that would then allow her to consider where, if anywhere, she wanted
their relationship to go. To decide...the rest of her life, she supposed.

Andrew, however, read all the wrong things in her words. “I’m
sorry I haven’t been available,” he said in a tight, controlled voice. “Perhaps
with all the time you spent with Cole yesterday and the day before, the two of
you should have chosen a tree.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. And he offered, but I told him no.”
She grabbed her skis and started to storm off, not sure if she was angry with
Andrew or herself. “I told him I’d promised you, and that you and I would do so
together.”

He caught up to her quickly, gripped her shoulder gently.
“Rachel, wait. I
am
sorry. I’d really like to have a
nice day with you. In fact, I’ll turn off my cell until...Monday. No
interruptions for the rest of the weekend, how does that sound?”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said without turning around.
“I really do understand how important your company is to you, Andrew. I don’t
want to stand in the way of that.”

She expected him to reiterate his offer, to state unequivocally
that he wanted nothing more than to spend a workless weekend with her. She
should have known better.

“Thank you,” he said without so much as a hint of a pause. “But
I promise you’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of the afternoon.
Seems a fair compromise, doesn’t it?”

“How about long enough to get a tree and help me bring up the
boxes of decorations from downstairs?” She couldn’t even be annoyed he’d
backslid. Heck, if
she
wanted a workless weekend
with Andrew, then she shouldn’t have let him off the hook. “Maybe even hang an
ornament or two. Does that sound agreeable?”

“Absolutely,” Andrew said, coming around to stand beside her.
He tipped her chin toward him and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Maybe even
three or four. Though, I might need to pause in between two and three, for a
quick phone call. Say two ornaments per call?”

“Hmm. I’d prefer three.”

“Deal.”

“Careful,” Rachel said, “or I’ll talk you into stringing the
lights, as well.”

The tension eased, thank goodness. They both laughed and headed
in the general direction of the car. Would a life with Andrew be one set of
negotiations after another? She could almost hear them now, balancing how many
nights he would work late as opposed to how many school plays or recitals he
would attend.

A weekend business trip? Sure, honey, as
long as you show up for the neighborhood barbecue we’ve planned. What?
You’ll be gone for a week? Well, then, how about that vacation we’ve been
talking about for the past two years?

She was probably being unfair. Andrew tried to make time for
her, had since they’d started dating. He’d be the same as a husband, a father.
He’d...try. She didn’t have any doubts about that. Except...well,
trying
wasn’t quite the same as
doing,
now was it?

Cole wouldn’t have to try, he’d just...do. She knew this
because she knew him. Had seen how he behaved with his parents and his siblings
for a large chunk of her life.

They were almost to the car when a realization slammed into
being. Rachel jerked her body to a stop. Why had she thought the two men were so
much alike? Good-looking, check. Good hearts, check. Both stood for what they
believed in, check.

Now, though, she understood something she hadn’t before, she
saw the one trait that made Cole and Andrew as different as night and day.
Andrew would always do his best by the people he loved and cared for, would
always step up when he needed to. Of that, she also had no doubts. But
Cole...Cole would never have to “step up.”

He wouldn’t need to. He’d already be there, next to the
people—the woman—he loved, day in and day out, through everything that came
their way.

And this she knew because that was how he was with
her,
his friend.

She thought back, to the days after Cole’s accident, to
everything that had happened. To the mind-numbing fear, the endless questions,
the way he’d looked at her from his hospital bed.
His
fear when he learned his fall had likely ended his career.

He’d been lost. And she had been so scared, for him, for his
future, but mostly by the desperation she’d glimpsed in his gaze. Their
friendship had existed for years—their kiss was less than twenty-four hours old.
At that moment, Rachel hadn’t known how to be just his friend, and yet, she
wasn’t his girlfriend. She was caught somewhere in the middle, out of place, in
uncharted territory that seemed larger and scarier as the hours ticked by.

Still, if it had not been for her father’s phone call, she
would’ve stayed. Somehow, someway, she would’ve forced herself to stay by Cole’s
side through every bit of everything he had to go through, despite her fear and
her confusion of her place in his now vastly different world. Or maybe, over the
course of time, she’d only convinced herself of that. She’d never know for sure,
could only hope she’d have done what was right.

What she had done, though, was listen to her father when he
told her that her mother had “gone off the deep end” and required Rachel’s
presence.

A mistake, leaving. But she had, indeed, left. Worse, she’d
almost felt relieved, because with her parents she understood her role. She
knew
how to behave. She knew what they expected
from her. That was the easy and familiar choice, so she took it.

And had regretted the decision ever since.

Her plan had been to return as soon as she’d dealt with her
mother, but Cole had told her not to. Between her guilt at leaving in the first
place and those words—words that had hurt
her
—she’d
listened and stayed away. Until last year, when he’d finally asked her to visit
for Christmas. She never should have left, but she sure as hell should’ve come
back.

If their roles had been reversed, Cole wouldn’t have abandoned
her for anything short of an all-out family emergency. He also would’ve returned
the very second doing so became possible, despite anything she might have
said.