Shenandoah Christmas. Lynnette Kent
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to her side of the bed, she went to sit on the edge beside David. Putting her hand over his ribs, she rubbed gently. “Neither is being with you.” With her other hand braced on the pillow beside his head, she leaned close to brush her lips over his.
David’s reaction was everything she hoped for—a quickly drawn breath, an immediate claiming of her mouth with his own. His hands claimed her as well, and she felt the surge of his passion in the grip of his fingers on her shoulders. With a sigh of pleasure and surrender, Anna lowered herself more fully onto his chest.
But instead of drawing her even closer, instead of taking them deeper, David softened his mouth, shortened the kisses.
“You’re so sweet,” he murmured against her temple. “I love you.” Without her cooperation, he sat her up and away from him. “Come to bed.” He put his glasses on the table and pulled the blankets up to his chin.
As she turned off the lamp on the dresser and the light in the bathroom, Anna tried to believe that what she’d heard was an invitation. In the darkened room, though, she slipped into bed to find David on his side, facing away from her. Had he fallen asleep so quickly? Or did he just want her to think so?
She sat up to braid her hair, then eased under the covers again. David was tired, of course. All the responsibilities of running the church fell onto his shoulders, now that she couldn’t work. Typing, answering the phone and handling all the paperwork, plus his normal pastoral duties, kept him working late these days. With a sermon to preach on Sunday, he certainly needed to get a good rest on Friday night.
Still wide-awake, Anna sighed and turned her back on her husband…and on the memory of all the nights she’d fallen asleep in his strong, loving arms.
BEN LEFT the Shepherds’ house as soon as he could get away. Maddie and Shep enjoyed spending the night with their grandparents, so there wasn’t a problem with goodbyes. They knew he’d be back for them around lunchtime tomorrow.
At home again, he headed for the shop without even going into the house first, shivering a little in the frosty darkness. Ever since he was a boy, he’d found a kind of peace in his carpentry. The sweet smell of shaved wood, the physical effort of planing and sanding, the concentration on delicate cutting and carving—his work absorbed him, absolved him of the need to think.
Usually. Tonight, he couldn’t get Cait Gregory’s face out of his mind. Not because she was beautiful, but because she’d been hurt. By him. He’d gone out of his way to insult her, several times over. He might be forgiven for not introducing himself at the grocery store, but his comment to her at dinner had been totally out of line. That the remark had been his only means of defense didn’t matter. He shouldn’t need a defense.
But something about Cait Gregory set off all his alarms. There was an…aliveness…in her eyes that grabbed him and urged him near her. Adventure, challenge, emotion—somehow he knew he could find all of that and more with this redheaded woman.
Adventure had played a big part in his past—the Secret Service provided plenty of action, even on assignments that didn’t involve the White House. He’d cornered counterfeiters and tax evaders during those years, taken out a would-be assassin. Challenge had come his way with the births of his children, with the decision a year ago to build a new life and a new business based on the work of his hands.
And he’d experienced a lifetime’s share of emotion, though he was only thirty-seven years old. Valerie had been his partner, his lover, his best friend, since their second year in college together. They’d established their careers side by side—hers as a lobbyist for a consumer affairs agency, his with the government. They’d planned for their children, prepared for them, rejoiced in their presence. Their family had been a walking advertisement for the American dream.
In a matter of seconds, the dream became a nightmare, one Ben was still trying to escape. From the perfect life, he’d descended into a hell of pain and loss. Eighteen months later, he’d thought he’d climbed out of the pit, at least far enough to find a purpose in living, a willingness to keep trying. For a long time, he’d only functioned to take care of the kids. Nowadays, finally, he took care of himself, too.
But maintaining this equilibrium demanded all his strength. He had nothing left to give to a new relationship. Especially one with a woman like Cait Gregory. A man could lose his soul in her shining green eyes. Ben knew he needed to hold on to what soul he had left.
Still, he shouldn’t flay other people because of his own inadequacies. Cait Gregory didn’t deserve the way he’d treated her. And the injustice bothered him.
So he put down the sandpaper and chair leg he’d been smoothing, dusted his hands and picked up the phone. Dave Remington’s number was on his autodial list—had been since he’d arrived in town after Valerie’s accident. Taking a deep breath, Ben punched the button.
“Hello?” Not Dave’s Virginia accent, or Anna’s clear tone, but a siren’s voice. “Hello?”
He straddled a chair and braced his head on his hand. “Cait? This is Ben Tremaine.”
Immediate frost. “David and Anna have gone to bed. But if it’s an emergency—”
“No. No, I called to…talk to you.”
“Really?” As brittle as breaking icicles. “Was there some aspersion you forgot to cast?”
Strangely, he almost laughed. “I want to apologize. I acted like a jerk, in the grocery and at dinner. No excuses. But I am sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”
“Oh.” Cait sat speechless as she held the phone to her ear, trying to think of the right response. Part of her wanted to punish him, to keep Ben Tremaine groveling for a long time. Part of her wanted to spare him any further embarrassment.
And part of her just wanted to keep him talking. “That’s…that’s okay. No harm done. I’ve had my share of tough reviews over the years. I’ll recover.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I imagine there are legions of fans out there who’d be after me if I slighted their legend.” His voice held a smile.
Cait found herself smiling in response. “Probably not legions. Or a legend. Janis Joplin is a legend. I’m just a singer.”
“I bet you do a good version of ‘Bobby McGee,’ though.”
“I’ve never covered that song.”
“Why not? Your voice would be perfect.”
Her chest went hollow at the idea that he’d noticed her voice. “Um…I don’t know.” Almost without her intent, the melody came to mind, and then the words about being free and being alone. The music possessed her, as a good song always did, and she sang it through, experimenting with intervals and timing. At the end, she was still hearing the possibilities, thinking about variations…until she realized how long the silence had lasted.
Talk about embarrassed. “I—I’m sorry.” She felt her face and neck flush with heat. “I—”
“Don’t apologize.” He cleared his throat. “I was right—you’re dynamite with that song. What do you have to do to get the rights to sing it?”
“Pay big bucks, probably. I’ll get my agent to investigate.”
“Good.” He paused, and Cait could tell he was ready to say goodbye. “Well, I guess I’ll let you go. I hope you know I really am sorry for…everything.”
“Forget it.” She wanted to keep him on the line but, really, what did they have to talk about?
“If you will.”
“Then it’s done.” She took a deep breath and made the break herself. “Good night, Ben.”
“Night…Cait.”
She set down the phone and rolled to her side on the bed, breathing in the lavender scent of Anna’s pillowcases. Flowered wallpaper and crisp, frilly curtains, lace-trimmed pillows and