The Christmas Cradle Page 8

  “The side. It shows off the leg and is more attractive.” When she realized what she’d done, she immediately apologized. “I’m sorry—”

  Hélèna turned to her. “Never be afraid to voice your opinion, chérie. You have good instincts about fashion. The slit up the side is better—makes a woman feel sexy, and we need that every once in a while.” She laid the pencil down. “If you want a job,” she said abruptly, “you’ve got it. Just be prepared to do whatever is asked of you. You might run errands, wait on customers, answer the phone, check in freight, whatever.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m willing to do anything.”

  “You’ll start on Monday and I’ll give you a week’s trial run. If it works out, we’ll talk about something permanent.”

  “Thank you, Madame Hélèna. Thank you so much.”

  Marisa left walking about six feet off the ground. She had a job and a place to live; things could only get better from here on.

  She called Cari and told her the good news. Cari was genuinely happy for her, and said Richard had stopped pressuring her for information. Surely that meant he and her mother were finally going to let her live her life. She and Cari talked for a while, and Marisa told her where she was living, since it seemed her parents weren’t going to bother Cari anymore.

  Before she could end the call, Cari said, “I wanted to tell you the cradle’s been sold.”

  “Oh.” She felt a moment of sadness, as she did every year when it went. But some lucky couple had purchased it for their baby and that was the way it should be.

  “Marisa?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I don’t know why you don’t buy it yourself. You love it.”

  “The cradle is meant for a couple waiting for the birth of their child.”

  “Marisa—”

  “I’m all right,” she said before Cari could ask. “I’m glad it has a home.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, then Marisa said goodbye and hung up. She stared at the phone, wondering why she was so attached to that cradle. But she knew. It represented all the happiness a baby was supposed to bring, and it spoke about the true meaning and joy of Christmas. She’d wanted all of that for her son and, yes, she’d wanted it for herself, too. But some things weren’t meant to be.

  She started to call Reed, but she’d talked to him yesterday and told him she was fine. That was all he needed to know. She didn’t want to put him in the middle again.

  Marisa went to bed feeling good about herself and her life. She was determined to work very hard for Madame Hélèna and she’d practice her music at night. For the first time in ages she looked forward to tomorrow.

  COLTER RECEIVED THE PACKAGE of clothes from Marisa and went upstairs to put them in Becky’s closet. He stopped short as he entered the room. Marisa’s clothes were strewn across the bed. He hadn’t even been up here since that night, and he’d forgotten about them. What was he supposed to do with her things?

  He laid the package on the dresser, then picked up the linen dress. A faint scent of lilac drifted to his nostrils. She’d worn the same fragrance in Vegas, and it wrapped him in captivating memories.

  No, no, no. He wouldn’t do this to himself. Throwing the dress onto the bed, he left. He couldn’t let himself get caught in that maelstrom of emotion. The whole week had been nerve-racking as he waited for a second impromptu visit, but she’d stayed away. He suspected her parents had something to do with that. He was just glad she wasn’t going to disrupt his life again.

  As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the phone rang. It was his sister, Becky.

  “I’ve got bad news,” she said without preamble. “Jen’s having a problem with the pregnancy and the doctor’s ordered complete bed rest.”

  “Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”

  “Yes. The doctor said she and the baby are fine, but she has to stay off her feet until the delivery. The baby’s due in February, so this makes it a little harder for Bart and me. Bart and I have the McKinney Western Stores on our schedule for next week. As you know, they’ll be carrying your boots in their outlets in Austin, and I have it all set up for you to visit each store. The newspaper ads have all gone out.”

  “We’ll just cancel. Jen and the baby are more important.”

  “No way are we canceling, big brother. It took Bart and me a year to arrange this. We’re working out a routine with Jen. Bart’s mom’s going to help out while we’re in Austin, then I’m taking two weeks off and Bart’s taking two weeks at Christmas.”

  “Sounds as if you’ve got it all figured out.”

  “Not everything. Christmas does present a problem. We’ve always spent it together at the ranch, but since Jen can’t travel, we were hoping that you, Ellie and Tulley would come to Jen’s house.”

  “I don’t know, Bec. Ellie’s never been away from home at Christmas.”

  “Just think about it and we’ll talk again.”

  “Okay. I’ll give Jen a call, too.”

  Colter hung up, hoping Jen and the baby were okay. She and Bart had been trying for years to conceive, and he didn’t want anything to go wrong. He wanted only happiness for both his sisters. The three of them had been so close since their mother’s death, and then, when Shannon had left, his sisters had helped him with Ellie. Ellie was barely three months old at the time, and he’d hoped Shannon would come back, but when he got the divorce papers he knew that wasn’t happening. He’d decided he would tell Ellie very little about Shannon. Maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe—

  He yanked up the phone and called Jen. She seemed in good spirits, so he felt immeasurably better.

  As he finished the call, Ellie and Sooner bounded into the room. Tulley followed at a leisurely pace.

  “Hey, Daddy.” Ellie propped her elbows on the table, her face in her hands, staring at him, and his pulse accelerated at the love he felt for his child. “You should’ve seen me! Dandy goes around the barrels so fast Tulley says all he sees is a streak. She’s the best barrel racer we’ve ever had and I don’t even have to guide her. She knows what to do. She’s awesome.”

  He smiled. “You’re awesome—and you’re out of breath.”

  Ellie gulped in air. “I know. Dandy goes so fast.”

  Tulley removed his hat and sat down. “Shorty’s right. Dandy’s a good barrel-racing horse. Sassy’s, too.”

  “When can I ride in the rodeo, Daddy? When?”

  “When you’re old enough.”

  “When’s that?”

  “When I say so.” He’d ridden in rodeos, so Ellie wanted to do the same thing, but he tried to deter her in every way he could. He wanted a better life for her, one that included a good education, but she loved horses and she got that from him. She was good at it, too. And it didn’t help that Tulley encouraged her. Or that Shannon had been a championship barrel racer.

  “Aw, you always say that.”

  He changed the subject. “Aunt Becky just called.”

  Ellie’s eyes grew big. “Is she coming here today?”

  “No.” Then he told them what Becky had said.

  A sad expression came over Ellie’s face and she crawled into Colter’s lap. “Is the baby gonna be okay?”

  “Sure, angelface, the baby’s fine,” he reassured her. “But Becky wanted to know if we’d come to Jen’s for Christmas, because Jen can’t travel.”

  Ellie jumped up, shaking her head. “No! We can’t do that.”

  Colter frowned, not sure what this was about. “Why?”

  “’Cause I can’t leave. Santa knows where I live and I have to be here. If I go to Aunt Jen’s, he won’t know where I’m at and I won’t get my wish.”

  “Ellie…”

  “We can’t go, Daddy,” she said, turning and running to her room. Sooner sprinted after her.

  Colter sighed in frustration. “I’m getting tired of this mother-Santa thing. I should just go in there and tell her there’s no damn Santa Claus. What do you think?”

  Tulley scratched hi
s head. “I think I’m not going to be the one to break her heart.”

  “Dammit, Tulley. She doesn’t want to leave because she’s waiting for her mother to come back.”

  “Well, if you’re going to tell her there’s no Santa, then you’ll have to tell her the truth about her mother. Are you ready to do that?”

  “No,” he replied in a wooden voice. He’d never be ready to do that. He’d never be ready to tell Ellie her mother didn’t want her.

  Not ever.

  Chapter Seven

  The week passed quickly for Marisa. She was at Madame Hélèna’s early every day, and she stayed late. At first, she did everything from answering the phone to waiting on customers. Then Hélèna asked her to work in her private office, and she ran errands, reminded her of appointments, answered her mail and tried to calm her when she became enraged at a store or supplier. Marisa didn’t mind any of it; she enjoyed the excitement and the challenge. It became very clear that the famous designer had a temper and none of her staff wanted to risk her ire.

  On Thursday, as Marisa was getting ready to leave, Madame Hélèna asked to speak with her. It was after nine and Marisa was tired, but she didn’t complain. This was what being in the workforce was like—long days, tired muscles and aching bones. She’d never felt like this in her life and she was exhilarated. Cari said she was crazy, but all the work and effort meant freedom and independence to Marisa.

  “I know you’re anxious to go home,” Hélèna said, frowning over a sketch.

  “Not if you need something.” Marisa liked the fact that she could help someone instead of being waited on.

  Hélèna took off her glasses. “I told you I’d give you a week’s trial.”

  Marisa’s stomach tensed. “Yes.”

  “I thought I’d tell you my decision tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow.”

  Marisa held her breath.

  “You have a permanent job here and—”

  “Oh, thank you!”

  Hélèna held up a hand. “Let me finish. The job will be as my personal assistant. Very few people can work with me on a day-to-day basis. I’m told I have a temper and that I’m not nice sometimes, but you seem to take all my idiosyncrasies in stride. Besides, you have an eye for fashion and I appreciate that and the number of hours you’re willing to put in. So what do you say?”

  Marisa smiled. “I say yes.”

  “Good.” Hélèna scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. “That will be your monthly salary, and you’ll be paid every two weeks.”

  Marisa stared at the figure. “This is very generous.”

  “You’ll earn every dime of it,” Hélèna said. “Richard’s a fool not to recognize your potential.” Hélèna reached for her glasses. “My son, who’s also my business manager, tells me it’s not wise to hire Richard Preston’s daughter, but I’ve always been a good judge of people—it’s one of the assets that got me where I am today—and I trust you implicitly, Marisa.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am, I know that everything is confidential.”

  Hélèna nodded. “All the information you see or hear in this office is extremely private and not to be discussed with anyone.”

  “I would never—”

  “I know, chérie,” Hélèna cut in, “and I wish you were going to be with me for a very long time.”

  Marisa frowned slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Like I said, I can read people, and you’re searching for yourself, your place in the world. I hope it’s here, but I feel your heart is somewhere else.”

  Colter’s face flashed into her mind. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she was unable to stop them.

  Hélèna got up and put an arm around her. “Chérie, what is it?”

  In a few sentences, Marisa blurted out everything about Colter, their child and the past. She hadn’t meant to but Hélèna’s sympathy was her undoing.

  Hélèna led her to a small settee and urged her to sit down. “Now I understand the sadness in your eyes,” she said quietly.

  Marisa wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.”

  “Chérie, affairs of the heart can be so painful. I lost the love of my life and I never found anyone to replace him, so I threw myself into my work. That’s what you’re trying to do—lose yourself in something.”

  ‘That deep pain is always there, though.”

  “Ah, chérie, you have to face those demons from the past, and you’ve made a great start by striking out on your own. You’ve said you don’t know who you are, but I do.”

  Marisa blinked away tears. “You do?”

  “Yes, you’re a warm, compassionate woman. A sweet woman. As a matter of fact, you’re so sweet, I’m sure you bleed honey.”

  “Thank you.” Marisa smiled.

  “Now, go to Hazel’s and you don’t have to come in so early tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, no. I’ll be here at my usual time.”

  Hélèna smiled. “I failed to mention responsible, loyal and dedicated.”

  Marisa gave her a quick hug—she’d never done that before, but it felt completely natural. Then she drove home.

  When she reached the house, Hazel came hurrying from the den.

  “You’re back. I was getting worried,” she said.

  “Hazel, you’re not to worry about me,” Marisa scolded in a gentle tone.

  “I know, but you’re so young and inexperienced and—”

  She raised an eyebrow, and Hazel backpedaled. “Have you had anything to eat?”

  Marisa held up the bag in her hand. “I bought something at a deli.”

  “I’ll get you some tea.”

  “No.” Marisa shook her head. “I’ll get my own tea. You go to bed. It’s past your bedtime.”

  “Okay. I am getting a little tired.”

  “Good night, Hazel—and, oh, I almost forgot. Madame Hélèna hired me as her personal assistant.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy.” Hazel smiled, then yawned. “I’d better go to bed. ’Night.”

  “’Night,” she called.

  Marisa was exhausted, and she could barely stay awake to eat her dinner. The exhaustion was very satisfying, though. She went to bed soon after, but dreams of Colter kept her tossing and turning.

  COLTER SPENT THE WEEK driving back and forth to Dallas to check on Jen, whose good spirits had turned to boredom because she had to stay in bed. She and Bart lived close to the office and the factory that made Kincaid Boots. He tried to cheer her up with talk of Christmas, although they still hadn’t made a decision about where to have their get-together. Jen’s focus was now on the baby.

  He hadn’t spoken to Ellie about Christmas again, because he didn’t want to trigger a scene. But he’d have to broach the subject, and soon. In his view, her obsession with Santa Claus was out of control.

  On Friday, Becky had him scheduled to put in appearances at the stores in Austin that would be carrying Kincaid Boots. Ellie’s last day of school was Thursday, so he had decided to take her with him. To his surprise, that plan was met with resistance.

  “I can’t, Daddy. I have to go to Lori’s birthday party. She’s my best friend.”

  He rubbed his temple. “I forgot about that.” This presented a quandary. He didn’t like leaving Ellie anywhere, but now that she was older it was getting increasingly harder to avoid.

  “I can stay at Lori’s. Her mommy said so.”

  “Tulley and I are flying to Austin. Aunt Becky and Uncle Bart are already there. You like meeting people and you’ve even signed a few autographs.” He was trying to cajole her; he couldn’t help himself. He wanted Ellie with him.

  “I know.” She twisted her feet, inner turmoil evident on her face, and he cursed himself for making her feel guilty.

  He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her quickly. “Okay, Ellie. You go to Lori’s, and I’ll pick you up when I get back.”

  She covered his face with kisses. “Tha
nk you, Daddy.”

  Ellie ran to her room, and he sighed. He didn’t understand why he felt so reluctant about this. He just didn’t like being away from her.

  ELLIE SAT ON THE FLOOR in her room, rubbing Sooner’s head. “We gotta have a plan,” she said.

  Sooner barked. “I know Daddy’s gonna be mad, but I hafta do this. We might be going to Aunt Jen’s for Christmas and I hafta see Santa. I really do.”

  Ellie thought for a minute. “We need money.” She got up and opened a drawer and counted her savings. “Twelve dollars and fifty-two cents. That’s not enough.”

  Sooner whined. “Okay, but I’m telling Daddy you told me to do it.” She walked to the door and looked in the hall. “Bark if you see Daddy.”

  She hurried to her father’s room. She knew where he kept extra cash—inside his sock drawer. Opening the drawer, she slipped her hand beneath the socks and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “That should do it,” she murmured, stuffing it in her pocket. “Daddy, please don’t be mad at me. I hafta do this.”

  THE NEXT MORNING Colter dropped Ellie at Lori’s house. Ellie insisted on taking Sooner, which puzzled him, but Ellie said she’d promised Sooner he could go to the party. He called Gail, Lori’s mom, to make sure it was okay; she told him it was fine, that all the kids loved the dog.

  Colter still had misgivings, although he couldn’t explain exactly what they were. Ellie was nervous and excited, and that was the way she should be, he told himself. She was going to a birthday party for her best friend.

  But something wasn’t right. He felt it in his gut.

  He hugged Ellie tightly, hoping his fatherly instincts were wrong. On the drive to the airport and the flight into Austin, he kept thinking about it. He finally put it down to overprotectiveness. Ellie was growing up, and he had to let her—and he had to stop analyzing all her moods.

  Their lives had been fine until Marisa showed up. Now he was on edge all the time. Why did he go to Dalton’s that day? Why did he see her? And why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?