A Daughter for Christmas (11 page)

 

Rachel sat in the front pew in the sanctuary, taking a break from working on the quilt after poking herself with a needle several times because she couldn't keep
her mind on her work. It would be weeks before she and Max got the results on the DNA testing. Weeks of anguish worrying. Weeks of wondering what was the right thing to do.

She needed the peace she always found in here. She'd taken her wedding ring off because she'd been attracted to Max—cared about him as more than just friends. She'd done the right thing today by sending off Taylor's DNA with Max's. Even though she had a good chance of winning any case that went to court concerning her daughter, how could she live with herself without knowing the truth one way or another? Then she could deal with it.

Is this a test, Father? I'm not going to turn away from You. But I do need to know You are with me, that I'm doing what is right in Your eyes. I can't even begin to see why You did this, but You must have a good reason. Help me to see it.

As she sat there, that sense of calm she sought blanketed her. She would take it one step at a time. She closed her eyes and pictured a meadow with a gentle breeze blowing the wildflowers in full bloom in ripples like a wave on an ocean. She could smell their clean, fresh scent swirling around her. She could feel the warming rays of the sun bathing her face. Peace.

Finally, she stood and made her way toward the church classroom where the women in the quilting club were working. Now she could concentrate on what she needed to do.

“Rachel, your purse has been vibrating,” her mother's best friend, Anna, said when Rachel entered the room.

“Must be my cell.” She crossed to her purse sitting on the floor along the wall. When she withdrew it, she noticed she had two messages. She listened to Taylor's
frantic one. “Will's got a high fever.” Her heart rate kicked up several notches as she grabbed her bag. “I've got to go. Will is sick.”

“Rachel, wait…”

So upset, Rachel didn't wait to hear what Anna had to say. As she hurried down the hallway, she played the second message. Max's deep voice, level, matter-of-fact, immediately quieted her worst fears. “Taylor called me and I came over to check on Will, who has the flu going around. His fever is 103 degrees, and he's complaining of aches and being tired. Call me. I'd like to give him something for the fever.”

Rachel hit the parking lot at a fast clip, trying to punch in Max's number at the same time. Suddenly, bright car lights flooded the area. She looked toward the vehicle pulling up. Max's Mustang. Relief eased her tensed muscles.

He came to a stop next to her and rolled down his window. “Will and Sam are going to be fine. Hop in. I'll give you a ride.”

“I can drive myself. I…” Suddenly, she realized she'd gotten a ride with her mom's friend. Her car was still in her garage. “I forgot Anna brought me.” She quickly rounded the front of the Mustang and climbed into the passenger seat. She threw a sheepish smile at Max. “I'm sure that was what Anna was going to tell me as I hurried from the room.”

Anna came barreling out of the church door, clasping her purse to her chest. When she saw Rachel in Max's car, Anna waved and turned back into the building.

“Tell me one of my children is sick and that's all I can think of.” She twisted toward him. “Hey, wait. You said Will
and
Sam are going to be all right.”

“Sam isn't feeling well either. His fever isn't as high.
But I didn't give either one anything for their fever without your permission. You should when you get home.”

“I should have known something was wrong before I left. Will was quietly playing on his bed. Not like him.”

“Granny and Doug are over at the house with Taylor.”

“Why did Taylor bother you?”

“When she couldn't get hold of you, she tried her grandmother and Granny. Neither answered so she called me. Your mom is still gone.”

“She's probably out Christmas shopping. She likes to have it done before Thanksgiving but didn't this year.”

When Max pulled into Rachel's driveway, she pushed the door open, saying, “Thanks for the ride and helping out.”

Without waiting for a reply, she strode toward her house, anxious to see for herself that her twins were okay. She heard a car door slam shut, but she didn't look back to see if Max was coming inside. There was a part of her that would be glad if he followed her, but the other part didn't know what to make of him. And she didn't have time to figure it out right now.

 

Later that evening, after Rachel had settled her two sons in bed, their fever down, she went in search of Max, who'd stayed in case she needed any help. When she'd said she had everything under control, Taylor had piped in that she needed help with her math problems she still had to do. Max quickly volunteered, and they sat at the game table in the den to work.

Rachel paused in the doorway and observed the pair. Her daughter bent over her notepad, her tongue sticking
out of the corner of her mouth, something she did when she concentrated on what she was doing.

“Are you sure that number goes there?” Max had loosened his tie he'd been wearing earlier and had rolled up his long-sleeve blue shirt to the elbows.

He gave off a casual, at-home look that made Rachel catch her breath. He peered up at her and snagged her full attention. Why hadn't she seen it before? Taylor's eyes look exactly like his—the same color, the same slant. Her throat closed. She remained perched in the entrance as though any second she would spin around and flee.

Taylor glanced up from studying her paper. “No and since you asked, I guess it doesn't go there.”

“Actually, it does. I just wanted to make sure you felt it should. You seemed to hesitate.”

Taylor flashed a grin. “That's the second time you've tried to trick me.”

“I want you to think about your moves, understand the reason why you do it. Once you do, math will come much easier to you.”

Taylor saw Rachel. “How's Will and Sam?”

“They're doing what they need to get better—sleeping.” Rachel finally took several steps into the den, aware Max's attention was fixed on her.

“That sounds good to me right now.” Yawning, Taylor gathered up her notepad and algebra book. “Thanks for helping me, Max. I was sure glad you were home earlier. I figured out one thing tonight. I don't want to be a doctor like Dad. I didn't like seeing Will and Sam sick.” Hopping up, she snatched up her belongings and walked toward the doorway.

Rachel noticed the color fade from his tanned features
when Taylor mentioned her father. “I won't be far behind you, Taylor. Today has been a long and tiring day.”

As Taylor left, Max scooted back his chair and rose. “Not one I want to repeat anytime soon.” He snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot. Your mom called when she heard the message from Taylor on her machine. She said she would be up for a while if you need her. I told her the twins would be fine with rest.”

“I wonder where she was. She's usually home most nights, especially Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“I know where she was.” The twinkle in his eyes sparkled like dew on grass.

“Are you going to make me guess?”

“Normally, I would, but since it's been a long, tiring day, I'll tell you. She had a date with Kevin. I think he was still there. I thought I heard a male voice in the background.”

“She did? She didn't say anything to me.”

“Kevin didn't say anything to me, either.”

“Maybe it wasn't a date.” Rachel ambled into the hallway and toward the front door.

“Would that bother you if it was?”

She stopped in the foyer and shifted toward him. “No. It's about time my mother dated and enjoyed the company of a man. She's only gone on a few dates over the years since my father left her.”

“She's an attractive woman. I'm surprised she hasn't gone out much.”

“My mother's choice. Let's just say when my father walked out she didn't want a repeat of that experience and decided to focus on her career and raising Jordan and me.”

“I guess I, of all people, can understand her reasons.”

“Because of what happened to your marriage?”

He nodded, a solemn expression puckering his brow. “Like your mom, I don't want to repeat that experience. No matter what my heart feels.”

A softening in his gaze rooted her to the floor. Did he mean he had feelings for her? “Not all marriages end badly. I had a good one.”

“And you want to repeat the experience?”

The question hung in the air between them, charging it with emotions that rushed to the surface. Did she? She hadn't thought she would ever get a second chance since she'd been blessed to have one good marriage. As much as she wanted to tell him no after all that had transpired between them, she couldn't say the word. Her ringless left hand underscored her desire to move on. “It was a good time in my life. I miss that closeness. Wouldn't anyone?”

His smile was slow to come, but it reached deep into his eyes. “But some people are optimistic and are sure things will be better the second attempt.”

“But not you?”

“I'm more of a realist. I've seen too much to think otherwise.”

“When you worked in the emergency room?”

“That and in war zones.”

She tilted her head. “Why are you here?”

Max panned the area behind her. His eyebrows sliced downward. “You know why,” he said in a low voice.

“I think it's more than that.” She covered the distance to the front door, opened it and stepped out onto the porch. “What are you searching for?”

His frown strengthened. “What do you want me to say?”

“The answer to the question.” Tension poured off him. She treaded in territory he wanted left untouched. But if
he was Taylor's father—she couldn't deny the similarities she'd seen—she wanted to know the real Max Connors, not the person he showed the world.

“I want…” He snapped his mouth closed and stared at a spot to her left. His Adam's apple bobbed several times. “I want to get to know my daughter.”

“Besides that. There's something else driving you. What?”

“I
want peace.”

The ragged thread of Max's voice held Rachel immobile.

“I've seen so much death. I want to see life. I worked at a hospital that saw a lot of the seedy side—murder, gang fights, humans preying on humans. I thought I could handle it after what I'd done in the army serving at the front lines. It didn't prepare me, or rather I couldn't any longer ignore what it was doing to me.”

In that moment, everything that had happened in the past couple of days between them vanished. She couldn't stand there and hear the depth of his anguish and not care.

“When I found out about Taylor, I thought it was my chance to make a change. I actually thought the Lord had sent me a second chance. I'd messed up my marriage. I'd stopped talking to Alicia. I was as much at fault for the marriage failing as she was. When she asked for a divorce, I was relieved because I didn't know what else to do to make things the way they were when we first dated and married.”

“People don't stay the same. The fact you got married
changes who you are. You become a team, finding ways to work together.”

His arms stiff at his sides, he curled and uncurled his hands. “Alicia and I never did. That was the problem. Then I was gone more and more because I was deployed several times. At first she was upset, and even when she could come with me overseas, she refused to. Then later she just didn't care if I was there or not. I won't go through that again.”

His declaration erected a barrier between them as though he had posted a “Do Not Disturb” sign around his heart. And yet, Rachel decided she wouldn't give up. If Taylor were his daughter, no matter what she wanted, they would be connected. Before she wanted to get to know him, possibly beyond friendship, because she'd been attracted to him. Still was. Now, though, she needed to know the type of man who'd sired her child. Might be in her life? How could she deny her daughter a dad if Taylor wanted a relationship with Max?

She'd gotten the impression he was angry with God. Maybe she could change that, give him that second chance he was talking about—at least with the Lord. “You mentioned you thought coming here was a second chance, that the Lord may have had a hand in it. Come with us to church on Sunday. It'll be Taylor's first performance with the choir.”

His eyes brightened, the stress melting from his stance. “I'd like that.”

“Then in the afternoon we can help you decorate your yard. I wouldn't want the neighbors to band against you. In case you haven't noticed, your house is the only one not decorated on the street. Even Doug has some lights out.”

“I noticed, but I've got the decoration problem taken
care of. I'm getting it tomorrow and putting it out Saturday.” He turned to leave, stopped in midmotion and peered back at her. “Call if the boys get worse. I can be here quickly.”

“I appreciate you being here for my children.”

One corner of his mouth tilted upward. “Anytime.”

As he left, she realized he'd meant that about being here for her and the kids. In five weeks he'd become a frequent visitor to her house. Of course, now she knew why. It hadn't been because he'd been interested in her. Only Taylor. At least in the past twenty-four hours she'd learned not to lose her heart to Max. And tonight he'd reinforced the reasons why he couldn't commit to a woman.

On his porch, the security light illuminating him, he swung around and looked directly at her. Suddenly, it seemed as though only a few feet separated them rather than yards. She needed to harden her heart to his appeal. There was no future for them except where her daughter was concerned. Breaking the visual bond, she moved toward her front door.

 

In the back pew next to Rachel, Max listened to the choir sing. Taylor's face, full of joy, kept his attention riveted. He loved to sing, too. He'd even fancied himself being in a band when he was a teenager. Had she gotten her musical ability from him? The thought made him smile.

He knew the DNA test would come back a match. And when it did, he had decisions to make. Should he try to take Rachel to court over Taylor or work something out with Rachel? He knew realistically and legally she had a strong case of retaining full custody of Taylor. But
knowing that hadn't stopped him from searching for his daughter and trying to become part of her life.

The music swelled to its end. Max looked sideways at the woman sitting next to him. She had so much to offer a man. She made him want to see if a relationship beyond friendship could work for him. He certainly wasn't blind to her attractive qualities, and yet becoming involved with her might complicate an already complicated situation.

He needed to keep focused on developing a relationship with his daughter not her mother—no matter how beautiful she was on the inside and outside.

At the end, Rachel rose, taking Will's hand while Sam fit his in Max's grasp. “What did you think?”

“I think Taylor loves to sing.”

“Well, yes, but about the service?”

“Your pastor is good. He's given me something to think about.” Remembering the sermon on putting trust in the Lord even during the tough times caused Max to pause. Had he given up on God when he should have leaned on Him? Was Pastor John right that the Lord didn't give people more than they could handle?

“I'm glad. You can come anytime you want with us.” Rachel filed out of the pew and waited for him.

The invitation gave him hope that somehow they could work out the situation with Taylor. He wouldn't stop until he had explored every option available to him. Being around Rachel's family emphasized how much he had missed over the years. “I may take you up on that.”

He stood in line with Rachel to greet Pastor John. Jordan, Zachary and Nicholas were behind them. Soon Granny, Doug, Eileen and Kevin joined them, quickly followed by Taylor. Surrounded by the members of
Rachel's family further heightened the hope he suddenly felt. Was it the place or the people or both?

“Pastor John, I'd like you to meet a—” a slight pause from Rachel before she finished with “—a friend. Dr. Max Connors. He's Kevin's new partner.”

The pastor pumped Max's arm with a firm handshake. “It's good to see you here. We sorely needed another doctor.”

“I know. I thought I would ease into the job, but instead I've plunged headfirst. I've been busier here than a Saturday night in the emergency room in New York City.”

“I can imagine. No matter what precautions we make, the flu seems to make its rounds. I hope to see you here often.” Pastor John bent down and passed a lollipop to each of the twins, then greeted Taylor with a big smile. “I enjoyed seeing you in the choir. Such talent is always welcomed.”

As Max moved toward the foyer, Taylor beamed, her shoulders thrust back, her stance tall. Her self-esteem had taken a hit with her struggles in school, especially with reading. But in the past month with Rachel working with her on phonetics and flash cards of common words, Taylor's fluency had increased, her confidence had grown. The occasional times he'd worked with her on science she didn't get as frustrated as she had at first.

Rachel came up to his side, her hand brushing his arm before it fell away as though she suddenly realized she was touching him. “Do you mind if we go to the rec hall for refreshments before we leave?”

“I'm just along for the ride. Whatever you want to do.”

“If I could only get my kids to say that, I'd have it
made.” She started for the double doors that led to the reception after the service. “I noticed you had a big blow-up snowman out in front of your house. Do you plan on doing anything else?”

“Mr. Olson didn't say anything last night about my house being the only one without decorations, so I'm thinking that's all I need.”

“You do? Then you don't know Mr. Olson well enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know those Christmas movies that show neighbors having wars over decorating their yards? Well, no doubt they use Mr. Olson as the model for the character who started them in the first place.”

When they reached the rec hall, Max released Sam's hand and the child raced toward the refreshment table. “That doesn't surprise me. I think I should have been warned when I bought my house.”

“The Realtor saw you were from out of town. She isn't dumb,” Rachel said with a chuckle and let go of Will, who quickly followed his brother. “Mr. Olson has quite a reputation in Tallgrass. Every year he adds to his yard. I'm just glad he lives at the other end of the block. I know the people around him have gotten black-out curtains because the lights are so bright. He wants our street to be the place people come during December to see the Christmas decorations. The only reason I have any to put out at all is because Lawrence got wrapped up in trying to outdo Mr. Olson. He never could.”

As Max moved through the line, he picked up some cookies, chips and dip and half a turkey sandwich. “In New York, I never had to worry about decorations. I didn't even put up a tree. I wasn't there enough to justify the time and expense.”

“And now?”

“I want to start some holiday traditions.”

“Any thoughts which ones?”

“No, but I have a feeling you're an expert. Didn't you tell me once you really get into the Christmas season?”

“Yes, but probably not quite like you think.”

“What?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to tell you. I'd rather show you. My lips are sealed.” She did a twisting motion in front of her mouth as though she were locking it.

But what lured Max was the sight of her full, red lips. Beckoning him to kiss them. Her gaze connected with his and bound him to her. The image of her in his embrace, their mouths joined together, no space between them, filled his mind.

“Hey, you two, you're holding up the line. Some of us are hungry.”

Jordan tapped him on the shoulder and pulled him back to the present in the middle of the church's rec hall with a room full of people milling about. Heat flushed Max's cheeks. He inched forward, trying to rid his mind of the picture that kept haunting him.

To cover his embarrassment, Max latched on to the first thing he saw as he looked away from Rachel. “Is that the quilt you told me that you made depicting Christ's life?”

“Yes. The group at church I belong to finished it right before Thanksgiving. Our gift to the congregation. Now we're working on something else.”

Max again fixed his full attention on Rachel. “Beautiful.” And that word wasn't just referring to the quilt although it was expertly done.

 

“Where's my snowman? It's not in my yard.” Max hopped out of Rachel's car the second she stopped in her driveway. He strode toward the sidewalk, noticing his stakes still planted in the ground in front.

Wind whipping her hair, Rachel approached him, pointing down the street. “Isn't that it? It's in Mom's yard.”

At that moment, her mother pulled up to her house and got out of her car, her hands planted on her waist. She stared at the big white round bottom of the snowman on its side. It had flattened part of her manger scene. Mary and Joseph lay on their side, baby Jesus somewhere in the white folds of Max's decoration that was losing its air. Part of the top hat flapped in the wind, but the majority of the body was snagged on the edge of the manger.

Her mom turned and cupped her hands to her mouth, shouting, “Do something before it ruins everything.”

Max jogged toward her while Rachel trailed at a more sedate pace in her high heels. The snowman finally broke loose from the manger and tumbled toward the stand of lighted circular pine trees with fake deer grazing among them in Mr. Olson's side yard. Max dove the last couple of feet and grabbed for a handful of that snowman to keep it from invading the property of the man who had started it all.

Max landed in the middle of a sea of white. Clutching the material, he struggled to his feet. The snowman's arms flailed in the brisk breeze and knocked into him, sending him back down in an attempt to swallow him in a cocoon of snow. This time he snatched fistfuls of the decoration until it was deflated like a limp balloon.

Rachel stood with her mother near the chaos at the
manger and watched Max fight for control of his snowman. “Do you think I should help?”

“Nah. Let him. Maybe then he'd appreciate a more subtle touch in decorating and let you help him with it. Even I thought it was a bit much.”

“You mean huge. It sort of reminded me of the Pillsbury Doughboy about to annihilate New York City.”

Her mother tossed back her head and laughed.

Max glared at them. “I could use some help.”

“Are you sure?” Rachel pressed her lips together to keep from joining her mom in merriment.

He dragged some more white material into his arms, fighting the decoration as much as the wind. “Yes.”

Rachel skirted the ballooning decoration and started with the top hat. Moving toward Max on the ground, she gathered as much as she could until she reached Max, who sat on a good portion of his errant display to harness it.

“Do you have a Plan B?”

“For the yard?” He peered toward his now barren lawn with four stakes still sticking up out of the brown grass. “Maybe I could go back and get a smaller snowman or something.”

“How about ‘or something'?”

“What do you suggest?”

“I have leftover some green and red lights from my husband's stash of outdoor decorations. Just something simple will be enough. Bigger isn't better.”

Max pushed off the ground and stood. “I want to know how this got away.” After folding as much of the material as possible, he tramped toward his house with some of it trailing behind him.

Taylor, Will and Sam ran across the street to join Max. Rachel paused next to her mother.

“He doesn't understand about Christmas, does he?”