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THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, the Caffey-Gatlin Academy’s auditorium was filled to capacity. Wade Parker, the captain of the Hope Springs Volunteer Fire Department, had been counting heads as attendees filed in. Wade was all business. Cilla doubted there would be much in the way of standing-room-only admittance.
Since Cary had been mentoring Grady, he’d scored two tickets early. She settled into her seat—Cary’s were in a prime spot in the center of the room—and smiled as parents and teachers stopped him from settling into his. An unexpected pride swept through her. To think how far he’d come, how much he’d been through to get here.
Her chest grew tight as she pushed back against the emotion throbbing there. She’d come just as far; she knew that. Knew, as well, that her hormones weren’t playing fair. On one hand, she felt invincible: cooking, cleaning, decorating for the holidays.
It was the other hand giving her trouble. She was running out of time. Yes, Cary had offered his house for as long as she needed a place to stay but having her own place lined up before her daughter was born would go a long way to easing her mind.
She could give birth, stay with Cary for a week or two while arranging for furniture, linens, kitchen necessities, baby things... though no doubt dear Susan would send all the gifts from the shower she’d thrown two days before Cilla had skipped town. Then once she was settled, she’d get back to her plans for Reddy’s Threads.
Watching the expressions of delight sparkle on the faces of grandparents, a pang of guilt tugged at her heart. She had no intention of cutting Susan or John out of her child’s life. It wasn’t their fault that their son was not the man he’d promised to be.
She would call them tomorrow and wish them a Merry Christmas—
“You’re lost in thought,” Cary said, finally taking his seat beside her.
His shoulders were wide and his arm pressed into hers; her skin tingled from his warmth and the contact. “More reflecting than thinking.”
“About?”
She gave him part of the truth. “How popular you are. How it’s so easy for you.”
“It looks a lot easier than it is, trust me.” He crossed his legs, pressing the top of his foot to her calf. “I’m still not great being the center of attention. Especially when this is Grady’s night as much as anyone’s.”
Interesting. “So what all did he do?”
While Cary explained about the set, leaning close to whisper as the lights went down, Cilla let her mind wander, foolishly so, imagining the two of them here as parents celebrating their child’s accomplishments. It seemed such a simple and ordinary thing.
Yet her parents had never come to see her cheer, not once. And Cary’s, well, she didn’t remember them ever attending any school function: science fairs, open houses, yearly orientations, the day when senior awards were handed out...
Except he’d already been expelled by then, hadn’t he? Expelled because of her. He’d never had the chance to walk across a stage similar to the one he faced now to accept his award for artistic excellence. His expulsion meant the award had gone to Robert Sefton. She wondered if Cary even knew his class had voted him the honor.
The curtain went up then and Cary reached for her hand. His excitement was palpable and remained so as the production began. He bobbed his head and his foot to the songs, most familiar but all freshly arranged and beautifully produced. He winced when a piece of the set fell over. He laughed as Grady snuck across the stage to right it.
He was so involved, so in the moment...
She loved him. With all her heart, she loved him.
How was she going to live in Hope Springs without him in her life? Decorating the home they shared. Cooking with him. Sleeping beside him. Enjoying his sense of humor, his affectionate nature. Teasing out the deeper emotions he worked so hard to hide. Allowing him to uncover her buried secrets and wash them away.
She couldn’t stay. She’d have to leave, move elsewhere. Build a new life for her and her daughter without him because loving Cary came with the very real possibility of hurting him again. Not on purpose. Never on purpose. But her parents’ arguments, his parents’ indifference... Surely they had once been in love—
“Excuse me,” she said suddenly, getting to her feet and stumbling over Cary’s, bracing one hand on his shoulder as she left their row of seats and headed for the door.
Tears blinded her. All she saw was the red blur of the Exit sign at the end of the aisle. Pushing through, she nearly barreled into a man standing just outside. He was young, tall and lanky, his dark hair long on top and falling over his brow.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his bright eyes making her think of sapphires, of a wolf.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, waving him away as she hurried across the lobby to the main entrance. Once outside, she filled her lungs with the cool, tangy evergreen air to get her bearings. Where was Cary’s car?
She couldn’t remember where they’d parked so she started walking in the direction of his house. She knew where that was. And she knew it was where she wanted to be. She’d be safe there from the flood of emotions trying desperately to drown her.
Was it always going to be this way? Seeing families who were whole and loving and supportive? Or was it all a sham? Were any of these kids as miserable as she’d been? As Cary had been? No. Their faces were bright and joy-filled, and their parents were supportive and engaged. She would be the same; she knew she would.
So why was she certain she would fail—
“Cilla!” Cary’s footsteps pounded on the sidewalk behind her.
She slowed down. She’d never outrun him. So she slowed, then stopped and waited, turning as he drew near.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“It’s just...” She motioned uselessly with one hand, not sure if she could answer, putting him off.
But he wasn’t going to be put off. “It’s just what, Cilla? Tell me.”
“It’s just... everything.” She gesturing expansively. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” he asked, his question frustrated and insistent.
She didn’t know if she could explain, but leaving him with nothing... She blew out a choppy breath and tried. “As much as I’ve always loved Hope Springs, I hated so much about my life here. Yet it was the first place, the only place I thought about when I knew I’d be leaving New York.” She sniffed. “I haven’t lived here for years and I still think of it as home. And since I’ve been back, since I’ve been living with you...”
“What about it?”
She shrugged. “Life seems perfect. My life. For the first time ever, there’s absolutely nothing I’d want to change.”
“Then don’t.”
“I have to, Cary. I have to stand on my own two feet. Support myself and my child.”
He ran his hands through his hair, appearing as agitated as he did sad. “You can stay with me as long as you want. I told you that.”
She looked up at him, this beautiful, beautiful man she loved. This man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life. The thought came out of nowhere, surprising her with its truth. With its absolute, unwavering truth.
She took a huge leap of faith and asked, “What if I want to stay forever?”
“What?”
“See?” She laughed, a gurgling sound that was more of a sob. “I’m not even making sense. I know it can’t happen... but it’s what I want.”
It took him several moments to respond with a soft-spoken, “Why?”
“Why do I want to stay with you?”
He nodded.
Where to start? Out with it, Cilla. It’s time. Except when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t. She wasn’t ready. She was scared. “Because I’m comfortable with you. Because you have room. Because you’ve been so kind, and I hate the idea of you being alone.”
“I’ve been alone a long time, Cilla,” Cary said, shoving his hands in his pockets, his voice even and low and resigned. “I’ve managed just fine.”
“I know that. Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t want to be alone.”
“You won’t be. You’ll have your daughter.”
“I want you,” she said before he could back another step away. He was putting too much distance between them. Making too much room for doubts.
“As a friend? As a babysitter? As a landlord?” He ran a hand through his hair again, pushing it out of his face. “You can stay, Cilla. You can stay as long as you need. The reason why you want to doesn’t matter. Not to me. But I think you need it for yourself.”
She started to tell him. She opened her mouth to say the words. But the moment she did, a pain creased her abdomen. She stared at him, her eyes wide, as her water broke, a tub tap turned to warm and soaking her to the skin. And then she laughed.
“You’re right. I do. But it’s going to have to wait. I need to get to the hospital.”
“Now?”
She gestured toward the puddle between her feet. “Now.”
#
EARLY CHRISTMAS MORNING, Cary stood in the hallway outside of Cilla’s room, staring through the nursery window. There were only five bassinets, all with red and green plaid blankets. At the moment, all were empty. And only one appeared to be in use.
He’d been awake most of the night in the waiting room, drinking coffee, listening to the faint sound of Christmas music in the background, and watching It’s A Wonderful Life on repeat. Apropos, he supposed, having recently revisited his own history.
Funny how easily it had come back when he’d thought he’d erased it. But seeing Cilla again showed him how wrong he’d been. Every bit of his past was still there. And he was okay with it. Without those years behind him, he wouldn’t be with her now.
Except he wasn’t sure that was the case. Which was why he was standing out here instead of taking the final few steps to her room, to her, to her child. Because all he could think about were her words spoken on the sidewalk beneath Christmas Eve’s stars with wood smoke and pine pitch and spices in the air: she wanted him.
Did she mean forever? As much as he wanted her?
Or was he a stopgap, filling a need while she got on her feet?
Only one way to find out.
Breathing deeply, he walked to her door and knocked lightly in case she was sleeping, pushing it open when she said, “Come in.” He had one foot over the threshold when she added, “Don’t say anything.”
The door swung shut behind him. He stayed where he was. “Okay,” was all he said as he took her in... her hair pulled into a loose knot on the back of her head, blond tendrils curling around her face. Her eyes were smiling as brightly as her mouth. He couldn’t see the baby from where he stood, just a tiny form wrapped in blankets.
“I need to answer your question,” she said, holding his gaze as she wrapped one hand around the edge of the bassinet next to her bed.
“What question?”
“You’re talking, Cary,” she said, her words bubbly, happy.
“Sorry,” he said, then made the motion of zipping his lips.
Her smile widened though her voice grew soft with her next words. “I want to stay with you because I love you. I love you, Cary Browning. I love you with everything I have inside me. And I will love you for the rest of my life.”
He closed his eyes. Just long enough to get his internal bearings. He knew where he was. In Cilla’s room. Number two-ten, at the Hope Springs Medical Center on Sunshine Lane facing west. That part was easy. It was the rest... Cilla Reddy loved him.
“Say it again,” he said before he opened his eyes.
She waited until he had, until she held his gaze, tears welling in the corners of hers, so vividly green and bright. “I love you, Cary. So very, very much.”
“Cilla.” It was all he got out as he went to her, holding her hand on the bassinet, wrapping his other arm around her neck and tucking his face to hers. “I love you. More than I can put into words. I don’t have the words. Words have never been my thing.”
She laughed, her hand against his head, and he held her for several long moments, breathing in the scent of her hair that made him think of orchards and blue skies and happiness. Her skin against his was so soft. She was beautiful. She was his.
Finally, his pulse singing, he released her and looked down at the pink-faced baby sleeping at her side. A girl as beautiful as her mother. “What did you name her?”
“Hope. I named her Hope.”
“Hope.” It was perfect. As perfect as their forever. He met her gaze again, not sure whose held the most tears. “I’ve loved you all my life, Cilla Reddy.”
Her smile rocked his world. “I know, Cary Browning. I know.”