Married by Christmas (14 page)

“Is that a compliment, Becca?” He managed to look simultaneously amused and puzzled.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she strove for candor. “Lately I’ve been remembering a lot of things I’d suppressed. For instance, you used to give your sandwich to Wally Dailey whenever he showed up at school without a lunch pail. You’ve always had a generous heart.”

His brows lowered. “I’d hoped no one would notice.” Because he’d sought to spare the young man humiliation.

“I doubt many did. I happened to observe the two of you one day sitting near the big maple tree behind the school. After that, I made a point to walk by each time I spied you wandering off by yourselves.”

“I thought you were going to meet Adam.” His thoughtful tone was at odds with the somber light in his eyes.

“Despite what you might think, my life did not revolve around him.”

He looked as if he wanted to debate the issue, but Amy interrupted.

“Sounds like Wally was forgetful.”

“Actually, his family was very poor,” Rebecca told her.

“Oh.” Her expression reflected approval as the significance of his actions sank in. “What else did Caleb do?”

“Nothing interesting.” He shifted nervously in his seat.

“I have to disagree. What about the time you stood up to the Williams brothers when they ganged up on scrawny Johnny Westfield?”

“They were bullies.”

“There were
four
of them. You didn’t let that stop you, though.”

“That was brave,” Amy said, clearly fascinated. “What happened?”

“It was dumb,” he countered, tips of his ears going pink. “I got thrashed.”

“Johnny escaped unharmed.” Rebecca easily recalled how he’d dashed into the school yard, yelling for help. All the students followed him. Even now, her stomach revolted at the memory of Caleb imprisoned between Lloyd and Samuel Williams while the younger brothers took turns slamming their fists into his gut and face.

“Your sister was the brave one.” Enigmatic gaze fastened onto hers, shared memories shimmered between them. “Hollering like a madwoman, she ran straight for my attackers and tackled the first one she came to.”

“You didn’t!” Amy squealed. “How old were you? Why didn’t I hear about it?”

“Sixteen, and you were too young.”

“Were you hurt?”

“No. Those boys knew better than to hit a girl. Thankfully, the teacher came and broke it up. Caleb suffered a black eye and busted lip, though.”

“It was nothing.”

“Not to Johnny. You spared him. Sacrificed your own well-being. You’re one of the most courageous men I’ve ever known.”

“I don’t have to try and remember good things about you.” He leaned forward and braced his forearms against the table edge. “In fact, I have trouble recalling much negative, except for the fact you pretty much worshipped the ground Adam walked on.”

Her jaw dropped. “I did not!”

“I was there. It all played out in front of me. Whatever he suggested, you went along with like an eager-to-please puppy. Talk about pathetic.”

Anger sizzled between her ears. How dare he! Amy stared at them with open interest. “That is a rude thing to say, especially after I...” She bit down on her lip.
Of course.
Caleb couldn’t handle her praise, so he’d done what came naturally. Made her angry in order to distract her.

Maybe she
had
been a little too biddable with Adam. A snippet of a conversation she’d had with her mother filtered through her mind.
Are you sure you’re being true to yourself, Rebecca? Having opinions of your own doesn’t mean you’re disrespecting Adam or that he’ll like you any less.

Caleb folded his arms across his broad chest and arched a brow. “What I’d like to know is why you have no trouble whatsoever standing up to me.”

“You’re simply trying to bait me.”

He paused, clearly taken aback by her calm demeanor. Then his lips firmed. “I meant what I said.”

“So did I.” Picking up a cookie, she held it out to him. “You possess a lot of admirable qualities, Caleb O’Malley, and I intend to remind you of each and every one of them.”

Chapter Seventeen

C
aleb nestled the string of bright red berries among the branches of the squat tree. Situated in the corner beside the catch-all cabinet, it was as wide as it was tall. The girls didn’t seem to mind. Amy’s smile was constant, her big eyes sparkling with happiness, and even Becca looked pleased.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d decorated a tree. When he and his brothers were younger, they’d enjoyed helping their ma. As they’d grown older, however, they’d considered it a childish activity. Eventually she’d stopped asking them to help. Guess she got tired of the grumbling and eye-rolling.

Helping his wife and sister-in-law was altogether different. Not so much of a chore. He was discovering that giving them pleasure made him feel good.

“It looks lovely, Caleb.”

Each time Becca smiled at him—something that up until recently was as rare as a flying squirrel sighting—he felt as though he was flailing in deep water. A vise clamped onto his lungs. His heart grew full to bursting, and he had no clear means of rescue.

Her apology had changed things. Ever since that day they’d landed in a heap on the frozen ground and he’d compelled her to confess her troubles, she no longer looked at him with accusation and disdain. He suspected she no longer considered him the enemy, which left him floundering. He had no idea how to respond to this side of her. Frankly, it made him nervous.

Standing next to him, she affixed a white crochet cross to a branch tip. Dozens of crosses adorned the tree, a reminder of the sacrifice the newborn baby Jesus would eventually offer.
Can You ever forgive me, Lord? My shortcomings are too many to name, and I can’t hide them from You.

He touched a finger to one dangling nearby. “Did you make these?”

“Amy and I crocheted them last year. I thought a project like this would help distract us from our loss. It was our first holiday without our parents.”

“Did it help?”

“A little.” Glancing over her shoulder to where Amy sat sipping tea and surreptitiously feeding Storm bits of her gingerbread, Becca lowered her voice. “The cross represents forgiveness. I still don’t have yours, Caleb. Have you thought about what we talked about?”

His insides went cold. This was wrong,
her
apologizing to
him.
“Your reaction to my role in the accident was completely justified.”

She laid a hand on his arm, and the touch burned through the cotton. “Can you honestly say my words and actions didn’t hurt you?”

Snared in her intent gaze, he found he couldn’t be less than honest with her. “I can’t.”

“I punished you for what amounted to an unfortunate accident.” He could see the regret tearing her apart.

“It’s okay, Becca.” He covered her hand and squeezed. “I was never angry with you. I knew you were hurting.”

“You were, too. We all were.”

“Are you saying you’re willing to forgive me?” His voice was rough, strained. Inside his head pounded the refrain
I’m not worthy.

She stroked one of the crosses. “For so long, I focused only on how the accident affected me.
My
disappointments,
my
suffering. I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to come to this place. I don’t blame you anymore.”

Overcome with emotion, Caleb didn’t trust himself to speak. He’d never allowed himself to imagine this moment because he hadn’t believed it would ever happen. He wasn’t even certain he could accept her absolution.

“I need some fresh air.” Pivoting, he limped to the door and seized his hat and duster. His leg felt stronger, not as sore as before.

“Wait. What if—” She broke off, anxious gaze sliding to Amy. They’d agreed that telling her about Samantha and Wendell’s visit would only terrorize her. “It’s dark and cold out there. Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“I won’t go far.” Caleb swung the door open, and his heart nearly came out of his chest at the figure standing there. “What are you doing here?”

* * *

With Amy relegated to the bedroom with a book, Rebecca poured Shane Timmons a cup of coffee and set it on the table in front of him. Nodding his thanks, the rugged sheriff took a bracing sip and waited for her to join Caleb, who was sprawled in the chair opposite looking dangerous and irritated. Concerned, too, although he tried valiantly to mask it.

“I still think it’d be best if you three stay at your parents’ until we catch these guys,” Shane insisted a second time.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” she protested. She’d never spent Christmas away from this cabin. Couldn’t imagine it. “We can’t barge in on Sam and Mary.”

Caleb flicked her a glance. “We won’t. I have my own cabin. It’s within sight of the main house, however, and Josh and Kate live behind it.”

Rebecca gestured around the room. “We’ve already prepared everything. The food. The tree. Holidays without my parents are difficult enough. Uprooting Amy now would only make things worse.”

The gold star pinned to Shane’s chest flashed as he shifted. “I don’t mean to sound callous, but your safety takes precedence over Christmas sentiment. I’ve got men combing the town as we speak. There’s no telling when or if someone might let vital information slip that would lead them straight back here.”

“The news of our marriage has certainly made the rounds.” A muscle jumping in his jaw, Caleb leveled his unflinching gaze at her. “I think we should do as Shane suggests. The plan’s not foolproof, but my father and Josh would be nearby if trouble came knocking.”

“I don’t like this.” At least here, she felt somewhat in control. This was her home. She was comfortable. Staying in Caleb’s domain would not be the least bit comfortable.

“It’s too dangerous to stay here, Becca.”

There really was no sound argument to combat their reasoning. Shane was right—practicality trumped nostalgia. The thought of coming face-to-face with Wendell again had her nodding her head in agreement.

Deciding it would be wise to leave under cover of night, they broke the news to Amy, who, instead of protesting, viewed the whole thing as a grand adventure. They quickly gathered necessities and the baked goods that Rebecca had already prepared.

Storm and Amy were bundled in the wagon bed and the sheriff was astride his horse when Caleb hesitated in the doorway. He frowned at the tree cloaked in shadows, the stark white crosses tiny beacons in the gloom.

“I’m sorry we can’t take it with us,” he told her. He didn’t seem all that eager to leave, either.

“It’s all right.” She tried to sound unaffected when in reality her insides felt hollow. “There’s always next year.”

She couldn’t help but wonder if he would be around to spend Christmas with them or off on a hunting expedition. Would their relationship be the same as it was now? Fraught with uncertainty? Tainted by the past?

He caught her hand and squeezed. “Maybe we’ll get back in time to enjoy it a little. There’s no rule you have to discard it immediately following the holidays. I can water it when I come to see to the animals.”

“That would be nice.”

Despite his pronounced limp, Caleb held her arm as they descended the steps. Then he assisted her up and climbed onto the seat beside her. His large body blocked much of the wind during their trek across town. Still, Rebecca felt numb.

Although she knew it was unreasonable, it was as though she were abandoning her parents, that by leaving the home they’d built and inhabited their entire married life, she was leaving their memories behind. Perhaps it would be different if she and Caleb had married willingly, if they loved each other and were an actual couple. But she wasn’t assured of his support. This marriage was a farce. And that made staying in his home, surrounded by his family—no matter that they were kind, considerate people—a daunting prospect.

When they arrived at the O’Malley farm and he relayed everything to the older couple, Mary insisted Amy stay in one of the empty rooms upstairs.

“Why should she sleep on the couch when we have perfectly good beds not being used?”

Caleb shifted, his face in the shadow of the porch overhang and therefore unreadable. “It’s up to the girls.”

Rebecca’s tummy did a succession of somersaults. She was not about to share a small cabin with only her husband for company. “Really, Mary, she’ll be fine on the couch.”

Smoothing her long, brown braid threaded with silver, the older woman said, “After being the lone female in the house all these years, having a young girl around would be a treat for me. Wouldn’t it, Sam?”

Propped in the doorway, Sam smiled and nodded.

Amy bounced up from her spot in the wagon bed. “Can I, please, Rebecca?”

Rebecca huddled inside her cape as another bracing wind sliced through her. Continuing to protest would only make things awkward. “All right, but mind your manners.”

“I will.”

Hopping down, she slung her bag over her shoulder and took the steps two at a time. Mary put an arm around her. “Would you like cookies and milk?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sam lingered. “Need any help unloading, son?”

Walking around the horses, he shook his head. “No, thanks.”

“See you in the morning, then.”

The seat dipped beneath his weight. He guided the team past the large barn and various outbuildings toward the woods. There, tucked amid the tree line, was a single-story cabin not unlike her own.

“We originally built this for Josh and his first fiancée.” He set the brake.

Rebecca recalled the story that had circulated when Kate first arrived in Gatlinburg. “Kate’s sister, right?”

“Francesca.”

“But he and Kate never lived here?”

After assisting her down, he walked beside her through the short grass. “Kate stayed here for a while. Then, once they decided to marry, we built them their current house, and I decided to move in here.” On the porch, he paused with a hand on the door latch. “Wait here for a minute while I light the fire and make sure there aren’t any critters who’ve taken up residence. Ma sweeps it out occasionally, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

Four-legged critters didn’t concern her half as much as being alone with him.

Huddled inside her coat, nervousness eclipsing her exhaustion, Rebecca leaned against the rail and studied the wide fields where fruits and vegetables would flourish come spring and the tree-lined lane on the far side of the split-rail fence, all washed in the moon’s luminescent glow. Somewhere overhead an owl hooted. The O’Malleys’ farm was all open spaces and rolling fields and sturdy outbuildings, far different than her sheltered cove.

Caleb’s boots scuffed against the boards. “There’s a bit of dust. No critters that I could see, though.”

Snagging a crate from the wagon bed, he loomed before her on his return trip. “I should probably carry you over the threshold. That’s what a new groom’s supposed to do, right?”

“Good thing you don’t do what’s expected,” she said tartly, sidestepping him and rushing to enter the cabin before he could follow through with the idea.

“It was just a suggestion,” he muttered under his breath.

Ignoring him, Rebecca went to stand before the fire, tugging off her gloves and holding her hands out toward the growing flames. The heat felt delicious. Her gaze skimmed upward, past the stacked stones similar to the ones in her fireplace, to the rough-hewn mantel. Her mouth fell open and an astonished gasp slipped out. There, beside the coffee grinder and glass-domed lamp, sat a sorry-looking clay vase with a chipped lip and uneven base.

Picking it up as if it were priceless art, she turned and searched out Caleb, who was sliding another crate onto the exquisitely carved walnut dining table. “I can’t believe you kept this.”

Expression smoothing when he spotted the vase, he kicked up a shoulder. “What can I say? I’m not the type of person who tosses out gifts.”

Sweeping past the extralong, deep green sofa that looked as if it had never been sat on, she met him beside the stove. “It was a horrible birthday gift. I don’t know what I was thinking. What seventeen-year-old boy would want something like this?”

“This seventeen-year-old was thrilled to get it.” Smoothly taking it from her, he brushed past her and returned it to the mantel.

“Why? It’s unsightly. And hardly functional.”

His back to her, he gingerly fingered the rough surface. “The fact that you made it with me in mind is what makes it special.”

“Oh.” He’d held on to it simply because it was a gift from her?

Facing her once more, a nostalgic, almost sad smile curved his lips. “Your world revolved entirely around Adam Tierney. To say that I was stunned you’d spared a thought for me is an understatement. Especially after...” Grimacing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind.”

The crack about Adam annoyed her. Made her sound pathetic. “That’s not fair. You can’t start something and not finish it.” Making herself comfortable on the sofa, she folded her hands in her lap and looked expectantly up at him.

Gaze hooded, hands braced against his lean waist, he didn’t move to join her. Obviously he regretted the slip. “Something changed after we plucked that kitten out of the river. You shut me out. Acted like I had the plague or something similarly disgusting.”

And now she regretted pushing the issue. What was she supposed to say?
I kept my distance because I was drawn to you? Because you evoked dangerous feelings in me?

Rebecca plucked at nonexistent strings on her purple calico skirt. “Must’ve been your imagination,” she murmured.

Tension-riddled silence descended. Caleb advanced toward her, halting when his boot toe connected with hers. Head lowered, she studied the slick, shiny black leather. “Don’t bother denying it, Becca,” he said coolly. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed your odd behavior.”

She sank against the cushions. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you think Adam wouldn’t notice how all of a sudden you refused to sit beside me? Dance with me? How you made sure to never come within touching distance?” Confusion slid behind his eyes. “He confronted me about it. Demanded to know what I’d done to you. I told him the truth, that I had no idea what I’d done. I still don’t.”