Colorado Christmas (16 page)

“You know that’s not true!”

“Save it, Your
Honor.”
He stalked to the bedroom door and hauled it open. “I really thought you cared about me, that you trusted me and we had a future together—”

Becky couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “A
future?
In
this
town?” she blurted.

He leaned against the door frame. “You hate this town, don’t you? You hate that you took the job here. You hate thinking everyone knows everyone else’s business. Hell! You probably even hate it because people are friendly. Well, here’s a reality check for you,
sweetheart
—you won’t find a better place anywhere to live in and raise a child. You won’t find better people to be your neighbors and friends and, yes, stand before you in court.

“And you will
never
find a man who will love you the way I do!” he roared, then stormed out of the room, slamming the door.

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Had Will said he loved her?

No one, apart from Nicolas, had ever told her that. Not her parents. Not her ex-husband. Yet Will had said it and with such passion.

Something akin to joy bloomed in her chest, then was quickly replaced by panic.

Oh, God, what have I done?
she railed at herself as she pulled on her clothes, raced downstairs and tore open the front door.

The world outside looked like a Christmas card. Snow covered everything in a pure white blanket.
You won’t find a better place anywhere to live and raise a child.

Will was right, she thought as she glanced across the street to the tiny Episcopalian church, painted a cheery yellow and trimmed in white, its steeple reaching to the sky. Next to that was a Victorian cottage, painted in a soft blue and trimmed in salmon, and next to that, a run-down relic of the mining years, all rusted corrugated tin and bare timber slab walls brimming with rustic character and charm. Her neighbors on either side of her dwelled in homes filled with warmth and love. The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful. Safe. It was like a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting.

About to throw on her coat and go in search of Will, she
noticed that the snow on her front path hadn’t been disturbed. He must still be in the house. “Will!” she cried, closing the front door and heading for kitchen.

He was leaning against the countertop, glaring at her. It had all become so clear—he was hurting and she loved him and that was all that mattered.

She ran to him and flung her arms around his neck. “I love you. Please don’t go. I’m sorry for everything I said. I was
so
wrong. Please forgive me.”

His hands clasped hers to release her stranglehold and for one dreadful moment she thought he’d thrust her away, tell her it was too late, that she’d had her one and only chance and blown it.

His dark eyes raked her face. She probably looked terrible, but she didn’t care. Will was about to walk out the door and out of her life and she was going to do everything she could to make him stay.

“What did you say?” he demanded, his look no less severe, his hands gripping hers, hard and unyielding.

“I’m sorry.”

“Before that,” he said through clenched teeth.

She studied his face, unable to remember everything she’d blubbered, but she did remember one thing. “I love you.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned as he considered her words. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes!” she answered without hesitation. “You’re right. This is the perfect town to raise a child. I was so focused on my career, on my need to secure a well-paid job to ensure my son’s future, that I couldn’t see what’s been staring me in the face all along.” She paused and took a deep breath, then said, “I don’t ever want to be without you, Will.”

The side of his mouth turned up. “Do I need to ask you to swear to that in a court of law?”

Her heart soared. He wasn’t going to leave! He didn’t hate her for what she’d said. Such careless,
stupid,
insensitive words! “I’ll swear it to the entire audience of the courthouse come tomorrow if you like.”

“You would?”

“Yes, absolut—”

Becky’s declaration was cut off when he covered her mouth in a searing kiss that had every nerve in her body singing with joy. His big hands clasped her face so tenderly and she returned his passion, gasping as Will nuzzled the side of her throat. The scratchiness of his morning whiskers sent heat licking through her body. When his mouth moved lower to bite gently at the swell of her breast through the fabric of her sweater, the sensations were exquisite. Carnal.

“Make love to me,” she said, but Will stepped back and took her hands.

“I don’t need to remind you what happened this morning.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“It might.” He released her hands and strode to the other side of the kitchen before turning toward her. “It kills me to say this, but I think we need to cool it for a bit.”

“What?”

H
ER EYES GLOWED
with green spears of anger, and Will couldn’t help grinning at her indignant expression and her petulant pout. He felt warmed by the knowledge she wanted him so badly.

Much as he wished he could drag Becky back upstairs, now wasn’t the time. One of them needed to keep a cool head about this, and she had to get ready for work.

A
HALF HOUR LATER
she was back downstairs, dressed immaculately, not a hair out of place and with no trace of the night’s lovemaking. She pulled on her gloves and said, “Please explain what you meant by ‘cool it for a bit.’”

“I think we should step back for a while—at least until Nick returns to school.”

“What difference does that make?”

He could hear the frustration in her voice. It mirrored his own. The scene in her bedroom earlier had cut him to the quick.
Becky might want to protect her heart from ever being hurt again. But he needed to protect
his
heart, too.

“When Nick goes back to school, I’ll no longer be his full-time caregiver, and therefore not your employee. Then our relationship will be on a more even footing.”

“But I’ll still need you to collect him from school and help with his homework. I can’t do this on my own, Will. I
need
you! Nicolas needs you.”

He helped her into her coat. “I’ll be there for you. I won’t let you down. But I won’t be your employee anymore.”

“I don’t understand. Either you work for me looking after Nick—or what?”

“I do it for free. I do it as a friend.”

“Seems to be a very one-sided friendship to me. What do you get out of it? I can’t return the favor.”

“You can let me date you.”

Becky gave a snort of disbelief. “I think after last night we’ve moved past needing to date.”

“I don’t agree. The fact that you felt you’d put your reputation at risk is all the more reason for us to cool it. I don’t ever again want to wake up and see the look in your eyes I saw this morning. I’m in this relationship for the long-term, Becky. Not a one-night stand.”

“I can’t believe you’re even speaking to me. I’ve treated you abominably.” Her face was flushed. “I’m sorry.”

“I aim to prove to you that you
can
be good at relationships—fulfilling ones that will last a lifetime.”

“Look, just because I admitted I love you doesn’t mean I want to marry you!”

“You will,” he said with utter conviction.

“Have you seen today’s paper?” Those were his mother’s first words once Will had snatched up the insistently ringing phone the following morning.

“Mom?” He sat up groggily and rubbed his face. “What’s up?”

“Get yourself out of bed and find a paper,” Sarah said, her voice holding uncharacteristic panic. “Becky’s in trouble!”

Will scrambled out of bed, hauled on his jeans and sweater and went downstairs to the free newsstand outside Mrs. C.’s shop.

He flipped through it and there on page seven, for all the world to see, was a photograph of him and Becky and the headline blaring
Judge Shows Bias Toward Lover’s Protest Movement.
Will felt as though he’d been hit in the chest.

The photographer had caught them in an intimate moment at the Christmas carol ceremony. Becky had wrapped a scarf around his neck, and for a moment their eyes had held. He’d been tempted to kiss her, but she’d blushed and looked away. Fortunately, he hadn’t given in to his impulse, otherwise the photograph would’ve been far more damaging.

He frowned. Until now, the paper had thrown its unconditional support behind saving the buildings. He needed to warn Becky about the article before she went to work.

B
ECKY’S EYES NARROWED
as she scanned the story. “This is libelous,” she murmured, then pointed to a heading in tiny font
at the top of the full-page story. “It’s an advertisement taken out by the development company. And there’s a disclaimer from the paper—see?”

Will cursed. “I was in such a hurry to get over here, I didn’t notice. But it’s still potentially dangerous for you. I wonder who placed it.”

“I should think that’s obvious.” A smile curved her lips.

“What are you grinning about? Your reputation’s been smeared all over the paper! It says you’re biased toward the protest group because you’re sleeping with me!”

“The court records will prove that I didn’t show any bias toward your case. You presented a very reasonable argument, so I granted the injunction.” She laughed and said, “I’d
love
to be a fly on the wall when Jason Whitby sees this!”

“Ah, hello?” Will waved his hand in front of her eyes. “Care to share the funny part with me?”

“The development company, through their PR bungling, has slandered me. And you.”

“But we
are
lovers. Or were, for one night,” he reminded her.

“They have no proof of that. I’m going to sue the backsides off those jerks!” she declared and turned to Will, her eyes alight. “By printing this garbage, they’ve exposed themselves. By trying to ruin my reputation and discredit you, and therefore regain support for developing the site, they’ve made a huge mistake. It puts you in a very good negotiating position to buy back the buildings.” She chuckled. “Jason Whitby’s going to freak when he reads this!”

“I’d better call Mom. She’s worried for you.”

“Let me call her in that case. I’ll explain everything and set her mind at ease.”

With Sarah mollified and offering her utmost support, Becky headed off to the courthouse. She had some work to do for herself this morning, starting libel proceedings against the development company. She rubbed her hands together, enthusiastic about taking charge of her career and her future. There was no way she was going to let anyone get away with maligning her character and disparaging her decisions.

S
HORTLY BEFORE NINE,
Becky pressed the send button on an e-mail to Jason Whitby, then entered the courtroom for the morning’s session.

At 9:05, a message was passed to her. Jason Whitby wanted to speak to her
urgently.

She returned to her case. Jason Whitby could wait.

There was a larger-than-usual audience and Becky surmised that many had come to see if she’d make a public statement.

During her first recess, Whitby called again—apparently he’d been calling every few minutes. At first he tried his smarmy lawyer approach, flattering her, apologizing profusely for his client’s stupid mistake, begging her forgiveness.

Becky enjoyed hearing him debase himself, then cut him off midsentence. “Mr. Whitby! In future you can communicate with me through my lawyer.”

At the interruption, he turned nasty, threatening her with dire consequences to her career if she didn’t drop the suit. At any other time, a threat like that would have Becky seriously thinking of backing down, but her ire was up and she was out for blood.

“You wouldn’t by any chance be making a direct threat to a judge of the Colorado courts, would you?” she snapped.

“No, of course not, Becky, er, Judge. I merely wanted to warn you that you were in an untenable position.”

“I think you should be using those words to your client.”

“Oh, come on! Surely we can do a deal that protects your reputation and my client’s. You don’t want the sordid details of your affair with a defendant splashed all over the Denver papers, do you?”

And now he’d returned to form. He was so predictable. “For a start, there is nothing
sordid
going on between me and Will O’Malley. I employed him as a caregiver for my son during the holidays. If you want to make a big deal out of a male taking that role, then bring it on. I’d be only too happy to point out that this is a small town and it was difficult to find suitably qualified caregivers. I’d also point out what a remarkable dif
ference I’ve seen in my
disabled
—” Becky put the emphasis on the word, although she hated to use it to further her ends “—son, during the short time Will O’Malley has been caring for him. I’m sure you’d like to take on all the groups that represent people with disabilities and tell them just who
is
and who is
not
suitable to care for their children.”

“There’s the photo—”

“What
photo? The one with me smiling at a joke Will made?”

“It looks like you’re smiling at more than that.”

Becky sighed to indicate she was bored with their conversation. “If you say so. I’ve wasted enough time talking to you. I’ll have my lawyer contact you.” She hung up, grinning with glee. Now she needed a lawyer. Someone local would be perfect and would send the message that she had nothing to hide, nothing to defend. Using a big-city lawyer of Jason Whitby’s ilk might suggest otherwise.

Mike Cochrane had recently moved back to Spruce Lake and was looking for clients. She liked his easygoing yet competent manner. After putting a call through to his office, she returned to the courtroom.

But as the next session got under way, the courtroom gradually cleared. Becky noticed that a note was being passed among the audience and was tempted to ask what was going on.

By lunchtime, the audience consisted only of family members of the defendants.

Her phone rang as she entered her office. Tempted to let it ring, since she didn’t need any more grief from Jason Whitby, she instead snatched it up and barked,
“What?”

“Whoa, there!”

Becky relaxed at the sound of Will’s voice. “I’m sorry,” she said with a smile, picturing him. “Can we start again?”

“If you’re having a bad day, Judge, then I suggest you take a lunchtime walk down to the old buildings.”

She decided to do just that. Ten minutes later, Becky was having trouble getting through to the site, as the street was
jammed with honking vehicles and outside-broadcast vans from Denver and national television networks.

There was a staccato roar. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but the placards carried by nearly everyone told the story.

Hands Off Our Buildings!

Hands Off Our Judge!

Take Your Dirty Tricks and Stick Them Where the Sun…

Becky didn’t need to read the rest of that one, carried by Frank Farquar. Louella wore a sign around her neck. Becky was trying to read it when Will spotted her and made his way through the crowd, his face glowing with joy. “What do you think of
this
protest?” he asked.

“Overwhelming,” she said with a grin and pointed to the signs. “Were you responsible for these?”

“I wish I could take the credit, but most of them were done by Miss P. and the folks at the Twilight Years.”

Becky spotted several seniors in the placard-carrying group.

“The article has really brought people out in support of you.” Will gestured at more signs. Our Judge Fights Fair! Dirty Developers No Match for Honorable Judge. Spruce Lake Supports Judge Becky!

Becky couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. “Oh, my,” she finally murmured.

Several protestors saw her standing on the edge of the crowd and a cheer went up. The television cameras swung her way. Being the center of attention was not what she wanted.

A microphone was shoved into her face and a reporter asked, “Judge McBride, what was your reaction to the piece in this morning’s local paper?”

She managed to swallow the lump in her throat and said, “The protest to save the old buildings on this site has brought out the very best in people, and the very worst in others.” She bit her tongue, not mentioning the mayor, Jason Whitby and anyone who wanted to destroy the heritage of this very special town. “I’m grateful for the support of the people of Spruce
Lake. This is a wonderful, caring community and I shall continue to serve the citizens of Spruce Lake to the best of my ability until my term ends in a few months.”

A barrage of questions from other journalists followed, but Will insinuated himself between them and Becky, effectively protecting her. He took over, allowing Becky to slip away, back to the courthouse.

She concentrated on breathing in the fresh mountain air and replayed the sight of the protest in her head, feeling a tiny thrill at the community’s support. It also helped her come to a few decisions regarding her future and Spruce Lake.

Back in her chambers, she put through a call to Judge Stevens. By the time she’d finished, Mike Cochrane was waiting to see her.

“J
UDGE
M
C
B
RIDE?”
Her assistant interrupted Becky’s thoughts as she wound down from the afternoon session. “Will O’Malley’s on the line.”

Smiling, Becky picked up the phone and was assailed by noise and cheering. She could barely hear Will above it.

“Get your glad rags on, Your Honor, we’re celebrating tonight!”

“What’s going on?”

“The development company is pulling out
and
they want to sell us the buildings!”

“That’s wonderful, Will! Congratulations.”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry about the article in the paper. It tipped everything in our favor. But I feel bad for you.”

“Don’t. I’ve had quite an eventful day and come to a few decisions regarding my future.”

“I hope it includes me?”

“We’ll see,” she said enigmatically.

“Oh, the judge is teasing me,” he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. “Care to join us all at Rusty’s for a celebratory drink?”

“Just try and keep me away. Where’s Nicolas?”

“Right here beside me. Sash and Daisy, too. They’re on to
their second round of root-beer floats. I’m amazed the little guy hadn’t tried one till I took him to Rusty’s the day school ended.”

Becky experienced a pang of regret at all the things other kids probably took for granted and Nicolas had missed out on. All of that was going to change!

“I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes,” she said and hung up the phone.

R
USTY’S WAS NEARLY BURSTING
at the seams when Becky pushed through the door. A rousing cheer went up when the crowd became aware of her arrival.

Will bounded up to her. Becky was afraid he might kiss her in front of everyone, but he seemed mindful of the television cameras present and instead clasped her hand and shook it.

“I’m the one who should be shaking
your
hand,” she yelled above the din as Will drew her away to a quieter corner of the bar. “When I first met you in court, I didn’t think you and your protest group would have a snowflake’s chance in hell of getting the development company to back down. The fact that they’ve also agreed to sell to you is quite a coup, Will. Well done.”

He grinned and leaned close. “You can kiss me later.” He leaned back again and frowned as he examined her face. “You look different. What’s going on?”

“I’ve made a few decisions regarding my future.”

“You dodged giving me any details when I phoned. Fess up.” Will took a long draft of beer, then put the bottle on the bar and braced his arm against the wall behind her.

“Okay, if you must know, I called Judge Stevens this afternoon.”

Will stiffened. “You’re leaving?”

Placing her hand on his chest, she could feel the strong beat of his heart beneath her palm and it gave her strength. “No, I’m staying.”

Will grinned. He was about to say something but she held up her hand.

“When Judge Stevens returns to work, we’re going to job
share. She’s enjoying being a mom too much to want to return to work full-time. But she does want to work. So we’ve figured out this scenario, pending official approval. That way I can spend more time with Nicolas. I’ve missed too much of his childhood already and I don’t want to miss any more. I can live here very comfortably on a part-time judge’s salary.”

“But you had your heart set on a promotion in Denver.”

“I did. But the events of the past few days and a few things your mom said at the barbecue have made me rethink what I really want from life, and it isn’t power, position or even money. I want to be happy and I want Nicolas to be happy and have friends. I think I’ve found where I want to spend the rest of my life.”

Will’s face broke into the broadest grin. He was about to pull her into his arms, but once again she put a staying hand on his chest.

“I want to say something before you congratulate me on realizing what’s really important in life.”