A Christmas to Believe In (31 page)

gloves on snug. "Okay."

"She thinks they might have decided to play since they

can't here at home."

With a nod of understanding, Jesse let herself out into the

snowstorm. She met Clint at the front of the car. When he

fitted her gloved hand into his, and gave her fingers a

259

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

squeeze, she tried for a smile. It came out weakly, but it

cracked through enough to let her focus on the crisis at hand.

She could imagine what Zoe was going through. If Ethan

vanished, she'd be a basket case in no time.

Clint ushered her to the end of the block, then turned

right. The park loomed ahead, the empty, snow-covered

merry-go-round a foreboding sight. What spanned out behind

the playground, however, turned Jesse's blood to ice. Behind

a thin line of scrub trees, a shallow creek ran through the

heart of the park. It separated the playground from the golf

course across the way, and marked a deathtrap for curious

toddlers who might find fascination with ice.

She swallowed hard. Forbade herself to consider the

possibility. The triplets might be young, but they weren't

stupid. And surely, with the stream so close to home, Zoe

must have warned them a dozen times or more to stay away.

She shivered anyway.

Clint wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her

into his warmth. "We'll find them. Keeley's out looking.

Nicolette's on her way."

"Keeley?" Jesse couldn't control the disbelief in her voice.

The unknown sister had pitched in to find children she didn't

know?

"She was at Mom's. She's got the shops on the north side.

Alex is on the south."

As they entered the park, Clint pointed to the distant

jungle gym. Towering timbers created a small fortress

complete with a thick wall. "You look there first. I'm going to

check out the restrooms."

260

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

At Jesse's nod, he released her hand. She took a step

toward the fortress, ordering her gaze not to search for

footprints that led to the water. She couldn't handle that. Not

today. Not ever.

Clint thumped open the women's restroom and snapped on

the fluorescent light. "Michaela? Mia? Macey?" he bellowed.

"It's Uncle Clint. Come out. No one's going to scold you!"

Silence met his echo. He strode past the stalls, pushed

each door in to check that they were empty. Just as he'd

done in the men's. They hadn't been there, and they damn

sure weren't here.

His stomach twisted with each empty toilet seat. Those

sweet little girls were out here somewhere. In weather like

this, God only knew how long it would be before they froze to

death. Even Alex, with all the reckless things he'd done in his

life, didn't deserve that kind of loss. No one did. And

certainly, no child deserved that cold, lonely end. Hell, Clint

would search for hours to prevent it—even if the child lost

was the angry Ethan.

This twist of events made what had happened in Jesse's

house—the whole damning chain of events—look small in

comparison. He'd thought he'd understood heartbreak when

he considered what leaving Jesse would do to him. But if he

had to watch his brother mourn, if he had to grieve at Alex's

side, his heart would break into irreparable pieces.

He left the bathroom to the sound of Jesse's voice. Near

the maze of tunnels, she crouched on all fours. Unwilling to

confront what he might find, but unable to ignore the obvious

danger, Clint scanned the park's boundary for signs of

261

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

footsteps leading down to the creek. The tightness in his

chest lessened as he took in the smooth snow. No fresh

footprints, not even partially filled compressions, marred the

surface. Thank God.

Breathing a little easier, he jogged across the park to help

Jesse search the tunnels. As he arrived, she stood up. With

lifted eyebrows, he queried. She answered with a sad shake

of her head. She stepped in close to his side, and he took a

moment to run his hands down her arms in attempts to ward

off the frigid air. When he let her go, her gaze pulled to the

creek. Apprehension set into her face. Fear turned her eyes

wide.

"They aren't there," he murmured. "There're no

footprints."

Her air rushed out in a puff of white mist, and she visibly

relaxed. "I guess let's check out the trees over there. Maybe

they found one to crawl under."

"Okay." He grabbed her hand, grateful to have her at his

side. Without her strength, this search would be unbearable.

A dozen steps or so into their march across the park, his

cell phone chirped. He glanced down at the LCD face. "It's

Alex." His heart in his throat, he answered, "Yeah?"

"They're here. I found them. They were looking for Santa."

Clint closed his eyes to overwhelming emotion. Tears

threatened, welled up against his shame. He blinked them

back and gave in to a smile. "Okay. We'll be there in a bit."

"No need." Alex paused, the feeling in his voice evident

with its tremble. "Actually, don't. I'd like to be alone with

262

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

them for a while. Mom's friend, Bill, is going to take her and

Keeley home."

"Sounds good. Give them a hug for us."

"Will do. I need to let Heath know. He's heading up a

group that's out searching."

Clint held Jesse's eyes as he offered, "I'll do it. You

probably have your hands full."

"Yeah, I'm on bathroom duty right now. Do me a favor, let

Keeley know?"

"Sure thing. Talk to you later."

At the click on the other end of the line, Clint ran his

thumb across the keypad, quickly composing a broadcast text

message.
Girls found. With Alex. All's good.
He sent it to

Heath and the number his mother had given him for Keeley.

Hanging up, he dropped his phone into his pocket. He turned

his smile on Jesse. But by the brightness of her eyes, she

already knew what he would say. "Alex found them."

Her shoulders rose with a deep breath. "Good."

The quiet that had plagued them all afternoon returned.

Unable to think of anything to say, Clint fell into step behind

her as she started back toward the sidewalk. Her bent

posture warded off conversation. But the sorrow that clung to

her left him at a loss. He couldn't stop her pain. Had

contributed to it, for that matter. She should be smiling. They

should both still be caught up in the night they'd spent

together. All those tremendous sensations were there, just

beneath the surface somewhere, and he couldn't take another

minute of this awkward distance.

263

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

He bent down and scooped up a ball of snow. "Hey," he

called.

Jesse turned.

Clint cocked his arm and let the snowball fly. It thumped

into her chest, splattered snow up on her face. She gaped at

him with such comedic surprise he couldn't squash the hearty

laugh that burst in his chest. It boomed through the stillness

and echoed through the quiet streets.

It was over then. With cat-like reflexes, Jesse snatched up

a snowball and fired, nailing him in the thigh. He ran

sideways, scooping snow as he dodged her second assault, to

return her attack with a snowball to her shoulder. Her

laughter mingled with his as they stumbled through the short

drifts. Around the swing set, through the geodome, and under

the slide they warred. On a lucky shot, she caught him square

in the face. The sting shocked him. He spluttered, and

determined the snowball was her last.

Lunging for her, his fingers grazed her arm. She let out a

sharp squeal and fled, not wasting time with fresh

ammunition. Clint fell into pursuit. His larger stride quickly

overtook hers. Beneath a giant oak, he caught the back of her

coat and dragged her to a stop. When he spun her around,

her giggles accompanied the bright gleam to her eyes.

Happy. This was how Jesse should spend the rest of her

life. She should never cry those tears that made him feel

weak and helpless. Frowns should never mar her pretty face.

In that moment, he fell in love with her all over again. The

sound of her melodic laughter, the brightness of her smile,

264

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

the twinkle in her eyes. All things that gave his heart wings

and lifted him up to unimaginable heights.

He gathered her close and kissed her softly. She leaned

back, resting against the tree trunk. The cold air vanished as

he indulged in the sweetness of her mouth. Each swirl of her

tongue took him back to the place where the world was right

and she belonged to him.

All too soon, she eased the kiss to a close and smiled into

his eyes. But her carefree spirit didn't linger. Her smile

wavered, as did the sparkle in her gaze. Clint knew before

she said a word where her thoughts had gone, and he silently

cursed the string of events that led them there.

"We should get back. I need to deal with Ethan."

"Yeah," he whispered as he clasped her hand. Back to the

real world, where everything was wrong and he couldn't find

the right solutions.

[Back to Table of Contents]

265

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

With snowplows tied up on the major highways, the city

streets quickly turned into a collision course that demanded

every bit of Clint's concentration. Jesse sat at the edge of her

chair, her fingers gripping the handle like a vise, breath held.

When they finally reached the turn to their remote street, she

leaned back and allowed herself to relax. Home safe and

sound. The twenty-minute drive had taken almost two hours,

but they'd made it. Thank God.

Clint's low chuckle rumbled through the stillness, the first

sound he'd made since they climbed into the car. "Gonna be

okay there, Jesse?"

"Yeah." She allowed herself to smile and let her gaze slide

sideways to study the angles on his profile. In the dim grey of

twilight, his lazy grin took on more charm. The soft light

heightened his already handsome features and added more

vibrancy to eyes that fluttered her heart. Heaven above, he

was so darn handsome. Though she now knew him as

intimately as a woman could know a man, her pulse

quickened every time she looked at him.

He fishtailed up her driveway and skidded to a halt several

feet away from her car. The outside lamp shone bright,

creating a halo effect through the falling snow. Like some

eerie scene out of a Stephen King novel, the landscape

vanished into a fog of white. The outline of the barn looked

miles away, and her dark house loomed like a waiting

predator.

266

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

She paused, halfway out of the truck and scanned the

second story windows as the hair on the back of her neck

lifted. No lights illuminated the windows. No flash of television

from within Ethan's room. Her gaze jerked to the lower level.

The Christmas tree glowed bright, but the rest of the house

was dark. Lifeless.

In one swift kick, her heart jumped into her throat. She

launched herself from the truck and stumbled to the front

door.

Confusion weighed in Clint's voice as he called, "Jesse?"

"Ethan's not here." She gave the door a forceful shove and

let herself inside.

"Now wait a minute." He caught up to her, set a hand on

her shoulder. "Maybe he's asleep. You remember staying up

all night at sleepovers."

She jerked out from under the weight of his hand and

snapped on the living room light. Ethan didn't nap. The boy

could go days with minimal sleep. One overnight stay with

Sam wouldn't have him curled up in his bed. Especially not

this close to dinnertime. If she didn't have something on the

stove right about now each day, he'd raid the refrigerator.

Reflexively, she looked to the countertop searching for the

telltale trail of debris that always accompanied Ethan's

journeys to the kitchen.

Only the mess she'd left behind cluttered the Formica.

As her pulse bounded into frantic rhythm, she raced for

the stairs. "Ethan!"

The silence that returned made her stomach pitch

violently. She never should have left him after that fight. Alex

267

A Christmas to Believe In

by Claire Ashgrove

would have understood. He might have missed the first years

of his daughters' lives, but he'd grasped the full meaning of

fatherhood.

Her heart twisted so painfully she pressed her hand to her

chest to try to alleviate the ache. As she bit back the bitter