The Christmas Cradle

“Oh boy,” Ellie cried, falling down on the pallet, the heels forgotten. “We’re having a slumber party.”

“It’s not a party,” Colter said, his voice stern.

“Is, too,” Ellie insisted.

Colter sighed. “Tulley’s put out some cold cuts, fruit and soft drinks, so eat, and then we’ll all get some sleep.”

They sat on the floor around the coffee table. Colter ate sitting on the sofa, and she noticed a telltale grimace when he leaned over to reach for the mustard. His leg must be hurting, but he’d never admit it.

Marisa wasn’t aware of what she was eating. The fire was warm and cozy and the candlelight flickered hypnotically. She felt as if she’d slipped into another time, another place, where she should’ve been eight years ago—here with Colter… She stopped those thoughts immediately.

Tulley gathered up the leftovers. “I’ll throw this in the trash, then I’m off to my featherbed.”

Ellie ran and gave him a kiss. “’Night, Tulley.”

“’Night, shorty.”

“Tulley’s tough,” Ellie told her. “He grew up in the— What did he grow up in, Daddy?”

“The Depression.”

“Yeah, and sometimes all he had to eat was bread and water. He didn’t have any shoes, either, and he had to walk ten miles to school.”

“Tulley’s pretty impressive.” She smiled.

“He also tells impressive stories,” Colter said under his breath.

“’Night, everyone,” Tulley called, and Marisa could hear the laughter in his voice.

Colter stood. “You take the sofa.” He didn’t call her by name, but she knew he was talking to her.

“No. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You’ll sleep on the sofa.” His words were final.

“Let her sleep with me, Daddy, please,” Ellie begged. “We’re having a slumber party.”

“Ellie.” He groaned in frustration.

Ellie quickly removed her coat and crawled beneath the covers, Marisa did the same before Colter could object.

“’Night, Daddy,” Ellie said.

Marisa heard a long, irritated sigh, then the squeak of the sofa. He was giving in, and she felt as if she’d achieved a small victory.

“Oh, oh.” Ellie jumped up and ran to Colter. “I forgot to kiss you.”

In a moment she was back. “I kiss Daddy every morning and every night. He can’t live without my sugar—ain’t that right, Daddy?”

“Isn’t that right?” Colter corrected.

“Yeah. It is.”

Marisa smiled as Ellie crawled beneath the covers again. Sooner nuzzled his way beside her. How could any woman give up this child? She was adorable.

“Do you have kids?” Ellie asked.

“No—” she answered with a catch in her voice.

“Are you married?”

“Ellie.” Colter’s voice rang out.

“Daddy’s kind of grouchy,” Ellie whispered to her.

“Go to sleep,” Colter said.

“It’s too early.”

“I’m not in a mood to argue about that tonight. Just go to sleep.”

“He’s real grouchy,” Ellie amended.

COLTER CLOSED his eyes, hardly able to believe that Marisa Preston was here in his house, talking to his child, and there was nothing he could do about it. This was going to be the longest night of his life.

He knew Ellie wouldn’t stop asking her questions. She did that with every woman she thought might be a mother candidate. He wasn’t sure how to tell her that Marisa wasn’t the motherly type, that there was no way in hell he’d ever get involved with her again.

No way. Under no circumstances.

Chapter Four

“Where the hell is she?”

Richard Preston paced back and forth in the library of the Dalton mansion in Highland Park. Vanessa Preston and Reed watched him.

“The police haven’t been able to find her car, so she’s not stranded on any of the highways. Where could she be? It took me forever to get Lamar and Adam here, and she does a disappearing act. This isn’t like her.” Richard turned to Reed. “She didn’t say where she was going?”

“I’ve already told you, Father. She said she had somewhere to go and that she’d be back for dinner.”

“Why the hell did you allow her to go out in this weather?”

Reed’s eyebrows darted up. “Allow?”

“She’s not strong like you. She needs protection.”

“I—”

“Lay off Reed, Richard.” Medium height with blond good looks, Vanessa Preston crossed her legs and smoothed her silk skirt over her knees. “You’re missing the obvious, as usual.”

Richard glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Me, Richard. She’s avoiding me.”

“That’s absurd. Marisa’s gotten over the past.”

“Mother might be right,” Reed said. “Marisa was very nervous about something, and Cari…” He snapped his fingers. “That’s it. I interrupted Cari and Marisa talking, so she’s either with Cari or Cari knows where she is.”

“Call her,” Richard ordered.

Reed dialed Cari’s number and she answered on the second ring. “Cari, this is Reed Preston.”

“Hi, junior, what can I do for you?”

Reed’s mouth tightened. “I’m looking for Marisa.”

“Isn’t she at home?”

“No, and it’s late and we’re getting worried.”

“Oh, no.”

“What? Where’s Marisa?”

“I’m not telling you anything, junior.”

Reed took a deep breath. “In this weather she could be stranded somewhere, maybe needing medical attention. Please tell us where she went so we can check on her.”

Reed listened for a few seconds, then said a curt goodbye and hung up. He stared at his parents.

“What?” Richard demanded. “Where is she?”

“She…she went to see Colter Kincaid.”

Silence.

“Oh, my God,” Vanessa muttered.

“No, no.” Richard shook his head. “She wouldn’t do that, not after what he did to her life.”

Reed shrugged. “That’s what Cari said.”

“Richard, do something.” Vanessa twisted the pearls around her neck.

“I will,” Richard said. “I’ll make sure that man never hurts my daughter again.”

THE FIRE BURNED BRIGHTLY, enclosing the room in its inviting warmth. Marisa stared into the darkness, listening to the howl of the wind and the icy refrain of the storm, but she wasn’t afraid. Oddly, she experienced a peacefulness that was comforting.

“Are you asleep?” Ellie whispered so Colter wouldn’t hear.

“No,” Marisa whispered back.

“Me, neither.” Ellie scooted closer. “Are you married?”

Marisa smiled. Ellie remembered she hadn’t responded to that question earlier, and it seemed Ellie needed an answer.

“No. I’m not married.”

“Daddy’s not, either.” A slight pause. “He’s handsome, don’t you think?”

At seventeen, she’d thought Colter the handsomest man she’d ever met. Her opinion hadn’t changed. “Yes. I suppose.”

“Did Santa Claus send you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you see, I wrote Santa for a mommy, and you appeared out of nowhere, so I figured he answered my letter.”

Marisa hated to disappoint Ellie, but she couldn’t lie. “No, sweetie. Santa didn’t send me.”

“Oh, gee, that’s not fair. Why can’t I have a mommy?”

“You have your father,” Marisa reminded her, not sure how to handle this conversation.

“Yeah, and he’s the best daddy in the whole world, but he doesn’t know any girl things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, my friend Lori has a sister. Her name’s Ashley, and she started her period. Lori and me didn’t know what that was, so her mom explained. When I got home I told Daddy, and his ears turned red. He said I was still too young, but it happened to all girls and when it did I was supposed to tell him and we’d buy what I need. That’s gross, though. Aunt Becky said she’d come and help me, and Lori’s mom offered to help, too. But I don’t want Aunt Becky or Lori’s mom. I want my own mommy. She’d know all about things like that.”

“I’m sure she would.” Poor Ellie. Clearly she wanted a mother any way she could get one. “But you have to leave that up to your father.”

“Oh, no. My mother broke his heart and he’s never falling in love again, but I’m not giving up.”

Colter had been in love with Shannon. She couldn’t believe how much that hurt—and it shouldn’t. She’d left him, so he had had every right to get on with his life. How she wished she’d been able to do the same.

“Lori and me heard Santa’s coming to Dalton’s Department Store, and I’m going to see him. I want to ask him why he hasn’t sent me a mommy. I’ve asked a bunch of times. Lori says Santa Claus isn’t real, but I believe in him. Do you believe, Ms. Preston?”

Ellie’s words danced in her head with childish candor. “Yes. I believe.” She believed in anything that made another person happy, and believing in Santa made Ellie happy—that was obvious.

“Since I work at Dalton’s, I’ll make sure you get a private sitting with Santa. How’s that?” Colter wouldn’t like her interfering, but she couldn’t help herself. She certainly wasn’t telling Ellie there wasn’t a Santa Claus.

“You do?” Ellie sat up, her voice excited. “That’s awesome.”

Colter lay listening to the conversation, biting his tongue and clamping his jaw so tightly his head hurt. If he stopped Ellie, she’d just start again with the questions. They’d been through this many times, and Ellie never gave up. He didn’t understand her strong desire for a mother. He’d done everything he could to fill that gap, but he’d failed. And he had never felt that more than he did at this moment.

The menstrual cycle talk had caught him off guard. Considering the nature of the subject, he thought he’d done a good job. Clearly he hadn’t. He wasn’t even aware his ears had turned red.

Ellie needed a woman to discuss things with, that was very plain now. However, Marisa Preston was the last woman he wanted Ellie talking to.

“Are you sure Santa didn’t send you?”

“Ellie Kincaid, go to sleep this instant.” Colter’s voice shot through the darkness, and Ellie dived beneath the covers.

“I gotta go to sleep before Daddy has a coronary,” she said. “That means a heart attack—Tulley told me.” Then she whispered in Marisa’s ear. “I’ll be at Dalton’s.” Ellie snuggled against Sooner and silence prevailed.

Marisa stared into the glow of the fire with so many questions running through her mind. Why hadn’t Colter remarried? Ellie had said he’d loved Shannon. Maybe he still did.

She’d thought the love she and Colter had shared was special—a once-in-a-lifetime love. She saw now that as a naive young girl, she’d been in love with love. She also saw that she’d needed to come here—to see Colter and his family. It was cathartic. This was what she needed to bury the past and get on with her life.

And she prayed she could.

COLTER TOSSED AND TURNED so much that his leg started to throb. Dammit. Would this night never end? At least Ellie had fallen asleep, and the quiet outside signaled that the storm had stopped.

He sat up, grabbed a flashlight and made his way to the bathroom near the laundry room. A couple of Tylenols would help. He got a bottle of water, swallowed two pills and headed back to the den. As he did, the lights came on. Thank God. Looking at his watch he saw it was 5:00 a.m.

The heat came on, but he stoked the fire and threw on a couple of logs. He glanced down at Marisa and Ellie sleeping on the floor. His eyes centered on Marisa, her blond hair disheveled, her features serene. She had that same appeal, that same look of innocence and beauty she’d had back then. He drew a deep breath. She wasn’t innocent or beautiful. Try as he might, though, he found himself wishing she could’ve been Ellie’s mother. The pain of that stabbed him.

Marisa stirred and sat up, pushing her hair behind her ears.

His stomach tightened at the gesture, and he remembered mornings like this when she’d wake and smile at him and the world became a brighter place. It had all been a lie, though. At the first sign of trouble, she’d given in to her mother and left him behind without even saying goodbye.

“The lights are on,” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Yeah. They just came on.” He walked to the sofa and sat on the arm, gazing down at her. He had to do this, so he might as well get it over with. “You came here to tell me something. What?”

She blinked, unable to believe what she was hearing. He wanted to listen, and she welcomed this opportunity. She’d decided it would be better for him not to know, but suddenly she changed her mind—maybe because his voice wasn’t so angry anymore.

Searching for the right words, she glanced at Ellie, unsure of whether to talk in front of her.

Colter followed her eyes. “She’s sound asleep and she doesn’t wake up until about seven.”

Marisa swallowed. “I wanted to tell you why I left.”

“Does it make a difference?”

She looked him in the eye. “Yes—to me.”

He shrugged. “You let your mother force you into leaving, and that pretty much said how you felt about me and the future we’d planned. What can you add to that?”

“Have you ever wondered how she forced me?”

“From what you said about her, she wielded immense power over you and your life. When she showed up, you caved and went home like the dutiful daughter.”

Marisa shook her head. “No, it didn’t happen like that. I refused to go with her.”

His eyes narrowed. “But you went.”

“She didn’t leave me much choice. When I refused, she said she’d have you charged with statutory rape.”

“What!”

“There was a policeman waiting outside, and I knew she meant what she’d said.”

“You were twenty-one.”

She locked her fingers together. “I lied. I was only seventeen, a month from my eighteenth birthday.”

He stood and jammed both hands through his hair. “Seventeen? I was ten years older than you. You were seventeen?”

“Yes. My friend Stacy had a friend who knew someone who made fake IDs. We just wanted to have some fun, and that was the only way we could get into the casinos.”

“You never said anything.”

“You never asked.”

“I just assumed— God, you were seventeen.”

“Yes.” A flush of guilt stained her cheeks. “I couldn’t let you go to jail, so I went with my mother. As soon as I reached New York, I called the motel, but you’d checked out. I was devastated. You didn’t give me an address or a phone number, and I didn’t know how to get in touch. I kept trying for weeks, then I hired a private investigator.”

Colter’s gaze sharpened. “Evidently he didn’t find me.”

“I made the mistake of writing him a check. My mother had access to my account, and she contacted him. She was furious at what I’d done and we had a big scene. In the end she gave me the information the investigator had found out—that you’d already married someone else.”

“I wasn’t married then,” he said in a controlled voice.

The fire crackled behind her, and daylight peeped through the blinds, but she was only aware of his words. They didn’t make sense. “What?”

“I married Shannon after Ellie was born.”

“Oh.”

His eyes flared. “Your mother lied to you.”

It took a moment to assimilate this, to believe her mother would do that to her. But then, her mother would’ve done anything to keep her away from Colter. That little lie was supposed to make Marisa forget all about him. It had done just the opposite. Every day she’d carried their son she had thought about Colter constantly, and over the years he’d never been far from her mind.

“Let’s stop playing games, Marisa. The decision you made years ago, under whatever circumstances, is final. The past is over and it’s been over for so long that I don’t even care anymore. Ellie’s birth may not have been the way I wanted it, but that’s something I’m honest about. I don’t think you even know what the word means.” He swallowed visibly. “As soon as the ice melts, I want you out of here.”

She paled at the cruelty of his words. The anger was back, and his eyes blazed as hot as the fire. Before she could retaliate, someone rang the doorbell, then knocked loudly at the front door.

“What the hell?” Colter hurried to answer it.

Marisa got to her feet and realized she was shaking. She wrapped her arms around her waist to still that reaction. After a moment, she heard raised voices and moved toward the foyer, surprised the racket hadn’t awakened Ellie.

“I’m sorry, Colter. I have orders,” a man was saying. “I have a warrant to search your house. Richard Preston says you kidnapped his daughter, and he has the Dallas Police Department in an uproar. The sheriff wants me to check it out before they call in the FBI.”

“Search away,” Colter replied. “But you might want to ask the woman herself what she’s doing here.”

Marisa stood in the doorway, her eyes big and troubled.

“Ms. Marisa Preston?” the man asked.

“Yes,” she answered in a weak voice.

The man stepped forward. “I’m Deputy Jimmy Walsh. Are you being held against your will?”

“Of course not! Why on earth would you think that?”

“Your family believes Mr. Kincaid kidnapped you and they’re very worried.”

Mother. She wasn’t going to stop…until Marisa stopped her. The only person who’d ever kidnapped her was her mother. She’d taken away her childhood and now she was trying to destroy what little peace Marisa had managed to find. A white rage filled her.

“Mr. Kincaid doesn’t even want me here. I came of my own free will, and you can tell my mother—”

The deputy held up his hand. “I’ve only spoken with your father, so if you’ll get your things, I’ll take you back to Dallas and your family.”

Her mother could manipulate her father into doing anything. This time she wasn’t giving in. She was fighting back.

“Are the roads passable?” she asked.

“The highway department’s been working all night and I managed to get here without too much of a problem.”

“Then I’ll follow you in my car.”

“It’d be better if you came with me.”

“Am I under arrest?”

His face turned slightly red. “No, ma’am.”

“Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll drive my own car.” She whirled toward the den.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Colter,” she heard the deputy say.

She sank onto the pallet, where she found the corduroy jacket and slipped it on. Ellie stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“The lights are on,” she said.

“Yes,” Marisa answered, looking around for her shoes.

“Are you leaving?” Ellie asked.

“Yes. I have to go.”

“Then Santa didn’t send you.” The forlorn voice bothered Marisa.

“No. Santa didn’t send me, but here’s an early Christmas present.” She handed her the high heels.

“Cool.”

Marisa stood. “Goodbye, Ellie.”

“‘Bye. You sure you don’t need your shoes? It’s cold.”

“I have wool socks on, so don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” She stroked Sooner. “Can I still come and see Santa?”

Marisa could feel Colter’s eyes boring into her, but she wasn’t going to disappoint Ellie. She didn’t care how angry he got. “Sure. Anytime you want.”

Ellie smiled. “Thanks.”

Marisa picked up her purse and walked toward the back door. Tulley was in the kitchen drinking coffee. “’Bye, Tulley,” she said, but didn’t stop. She had to get away.

Colter caught her at the door. “Let’s be clear about one thing.”

She’d had all she could take from him. “No,” she snapped. “I’m not listening to any more of your nastiness or your insults. I made some bad choices—very bad choices—but I had my reasons. Reasons I thought were valid at the time. If you could stop thinking about your pride for one tiny second, you might want to hear those reasons. Until then, I have nothing to say to you.”

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