Authors: Fern Michaels

Coming Home for Christmas (14 page)

BOOK: Coming Home for Christmas

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Chapter Eight

Three hours later, Max drove back to the cabin with good news for Grace and her charges.

Max entered the cabin and found Grace, along with the two girls and dogs, curled up on the sofa in the den sound asleep. And he'd thought they'd be waiting on pins and needles for his return. So much for that.

Ice-D and Cliff bolted off the sofa when they saw him. He rubbed both between the ears, then allowed them their usual licks to his face. “Okay, boys, that's enough.” Max went to the kitchen. He saw that both dog bowls were full of water, and the food bowls were empty. He was about to load them up with dog food when Grace entered the kitchen.

“They both had three hot dogs apiece, plus a bowl of dog food. I don't think they're hungry.”

Max stopped and shook his finger at the pair. “You know I ought to turn you two out, make you work for your grub.” Both dogs whined, and Max fluffed the space between their ears. “Go on, you two.” The dogs complied, their muzzles lifted high in the air as they made their way back to the den.

“They've convinced themselves they're kings today,” Grace said as she watched the dogs jump back onto the sofa, one on either side of the girls.

“They okay?” He motioned to the sleeping girls.

“As okay as they can be under the circumstances.” Grace eyed the poor things to make sure they still slept. “What happened? I was sure Glenn was gone for good. Stephanie had him arrested. He was in jail the last I heard.”

Max motioned for her to follow him upstairs.

“We can talk up here without waking them. Apparently, Glenn was being transported to Denver. The deputies driving him stopped in Grand Junction for a bite to eat. Thinking Glenn was as innocent and harmless as he claimed, they let him come inside to have his meal with them. He went to the men's room, and that's the last they saw of him.”

“This makes no sense! How did he know where to find Amanda and Ashley? I didn't plan on any of this happening.” Perplexed, Grace dropped down on a small wooden chair.

“Those roadblocks last night, they were searching for him. He had no idea he'd find his girls here. As luck or whatever you want to call it would have it, I just happen to have the only house around here for miles. He must've walked all night and wound up here, the same as you. It's a heck of a coincidence, don't you think?”

Grace wasn't sure what to think and told him so.

“I called the number you gave me and talked to a woman by the name of Juanita. Told her you were fine and that you'd be back as soon as possible.”

“Thanks so much, really. Juanita is my mother. I'm sure she and Stephanie were beside themselves with worry. Did you tell her the girls were with me and that they were okay?”

“I did.”

Grace was about to ask Max if they'd said anything else, but he piped up. “Your mother said Bryce was there. Said he couldn't wait until Christmas Eve to see you.”

Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “Fantastic, I can't wait to see him. It's tough to schedule visits now that we live so far apart. I can't wait to see him. It's been almost a year. I can't believe I let so much time pass. It's just thatâ”

“You'd better leave before it starts snowing again. We're supposed to get another two feet by nightfall. I promised your family you'd be home today,” Max said, staring intently into her verdant eyes.

Grace felt a little piece of her heart break at the thought of leaving Max behind. She barely knew the man, and what she did know she wasn't sure she liked. Still, there was something about him.

She nodded. “You're right. I know the girls are excited; they want to decorate the Christmas tree. I promised them they could.”

“I gathered as much,” Max said.

Before he could stop himself, before he had a chance to second-guess himself, Max pulled Grace into his arms kissing her softly on the mouth. Her intake of breath, shock or desire, surprised him because instead of pulling away, she kissed him back.

“Grace.” The sound of her name filled him with emotions that had been dormant for so long, their intense return stunned him.

Before either could react Max pushed her away. For a moment neither spoke. When the silence between them became too uncomfortable, Max looked at her with more than just a casual interest.

Grace looked away, then something pulled her attention back to him. She gazed into his deep blue eyes, seeing more than just the man who'd offered her a place to stay.

Hesitantly, Max smoothed the hair away from her face. “I want to say I'm sorry, but I'm not.”

Grace smiled. “It's okay, really.”

Max nodded. “You'd better go. The snow and all.”

Neither made an attempt to move their gazes as they locked on to one another, both amazed at the sudden attraction between them.

Max spoke up, breaking the connection. “What about Bryce?”

She squinted her eyes as though he were suddenly out of focus. “What about him?”

“Never mind,” Max said softly.

“Wait. Why are you asking me about Bryce? Do you know him?”

“No, and I don't want to either. Look, Grace, it was just a kiss, okay? Heat of the moment, nothing more. I've been without a woman too long. You're very attractive. I just lost control, okay?” Visions of Kayla danced before him while his heart hammered to the tune of
guilty, guilty, guilty!

“Why you . . . jerk! What kind of . . . never mind. Give me my keys. I can't believe I even kissed you! What an idiot I am!” Grace raced down the steps as fast as her feet would move.

“Amanda, Ashley! It's time to go,” she called to the pair, who were now wide-awake.

Quickly, both girls put on their jackets, shoes, and mittens.

“Can we kiss the dogs good-bye, Miss Grace?” Amanda asked.

Grace glanced at Max.

“Of course you can. They like pretty girls.”

“Just like their owner,” Grace muttered between gritted teeth.

Beseechingly, Max asked, “Tell me one thing before you leave.”

Taking a deep breath and promising to see her own counselor as soon as she could, she rolled her eyes upward. “What?”

“Why do you keep calling your home âHope House'? Where is this . . . place?”

Deciding there was no point in lying or dragging this exit out any longer than was necessary, Grace turned to face him.

“Remember I told you I was a counselor?” She waited for him to reply. He nodded.

“Actually, I'm a psychologist. Women who've been battered and abused come to Hope House. It's a safe haven. They're brought to me by local law enforcement when they need a place to stay, somewhere they can feel safe until they either face their attacker in court, divorce him, or, in some cases, leave only to go right back to the man who sent them running in the first place. This year, Stephanie and the girls, plus my own family, will be celebrating Christmas at Hope House.” Grace wanted to invite him to spend Christmas Day with her even after he'd humiliated her when he made an excuse for kissing her. There was just something lonely about him. Thoughts of his spending the holiday alone dampened her holiday spirit.

“Its location is a secret,” she added.

Grace watched the numerous expressions roll across his handsome face as she spoke. Curiosity, then she was sure she saw anger. Why would this make him angry? Obviously, she didn't know the man well. It didn't matter because she had a Christmas gathering waiting for her.

“Come on, girls. Let's go decorate that tree I promised you.”

Excited they shouted, “Yeah! Yeah! Let's hurry, Miss Grace, please!”

Grace gave Max one last glance before speaking. “I appreciate your hospitality, Max. Thanks again.”

The girls gave kisses to the dogs, who willingly returned them with big, sloppy kisses of their own.

“Bye, Ice-D. Bye, Cliff!” they chorused, before racing out the door.

“Be safe,” Max called out to Grace, then closed the door.

Suddenly the cabin seemed too big for him and the dogs. “Let's go for a run, you two. I can't remember the last time I exercised you guys. Better yet, let's go to Powder Rise, and we'll ski down the mountain.”

He made quick work of gathering the dogs' boots and coats. His skis were in the shed along with everything else from his former life. Dressing the dogs wasn't easy, but necessary. They ran alongside him while he skied, and their paws had to be protected as well as possible to avoid frostbite.

Thirty minutes later, Max drove his spare snowmobile up to the top of Powder Rise. His mountain. And what would have been Kayla's mountain, their child's mountain.

Standing on top, he felt small in comparison. He stared at the miles of white and green surrounding him. Kayla hadn't enjoyed the snow that much. She probably would've been content to stay in Denver for the rest of her life. Why was he remembering that? What did it matter if Kayla hadn't liked the snow, or skiing, or anything else about it? He hadn't been all that thrilled with her chosen profession either. Couldn't understand why she wanted to put herself at risk every time she walked out the door. And he would never know, he realized.

At the top of Powder Rise, which was at best a decent blue run, Max shoved off the top, Ice-D and Cliff running on each side.

The snow made a soft swishing sound as his skis cut through it. The mountain trail narrowed to a catwalk. Large pines towered above him, an occasional gust of snow from the branches dropping in his path as he maneuvered his way side to side down the hill. Traveling at a slow and steady pace so that both dogs could keep up without becoming tired, Max realized for the first time in many long months just how lonely he was.

Yes, he had friends, but they'd stopped coming around a long time ago. They stopped coming around because he'd turned into another person after Kayla's death. Max had crawled into a cocoon of grief. He remembered the guilt he felt just for being alive. Day by day, he'd cursed Kayla for the choice she'd made. And day by day his grief had changed him, turning him into the hard, bitter man he was today. For the first time since Kayla's death, he didn't want to be that bitter, hateful man. He wanted to be the man he used to be in spite of what he'd said to Grace.

He remembered all too well the minutes that led up to the exact moment when his entire universe tilted. Max didn't like reliving the memory, but today he would. Because today he was going to put the past behind him and move forward.

It was Christmas Eve, and Max was looking forward to spending the next week pampering his wife. Excited didn't describe what he felt when he learned they were pregnant. A child of his own. Being an only child, Max wanted at least three, if not more. Kayla said two would be her limit. He didn't care if they had just the one or a dozen. Max couldn't wait to give Kayla her Christmas gift, a brand-new fire-engine red Jeep. She'd been driving a Datsun pickup given to her by her father ever since he'd known her. He wanted her to have a vehicle that was a little more reliable, something that wouldn't break down on her all the time. She'd be angry that he'd spent so much money, but he knew she would get over it. Heck, he had enough money to live like a king for the rest of his life.

Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was after midnight. Kayla was working the three-to-eleven shift, so he expected her anytime. For the next week she belonged to him and no one else. No work, no calls in the middle of the night to come to a crime scene. In fact, he thought they might take a trip to Denver to look at a crib, something for the baby. How he loved thinking about his child!

Damn, he was getting sappy-eyed! It was the holidays. They always did that to him. He loved the bright cheerful red and green lights that twinkled on their Colorado blue spruce, the smell of pine, clean and sharp. He'd finished his Christmas shopping. There were dozens of brightly wrapped packages beneath the tree that hadn't been there when Kayla left for work. Yes, she would be surprised. He laughed. That was an understatement.

Looking at his watch seeing that it was quarter to one, Max jumped when the phone rang.

Most likely it was Kayla calling to let him know she was going out for breakfast with a few friends from the department. She did that about once a month, and it was fine with him. She needed the time to unwind.

Max answered the phone on the third ring.

“Max Jorgenson?” a male voice inquired.

“Yes, this is Max.”

“We're sending a cruiser to pick you up. Officer Jorgenson has been involved in a shooting. . .”

BOOK: Coming Home for Christmas

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