A Family Under the Christmas Tree (23 page)

She rose and balanced on the thin metal skate. Out in the lobby the floor was covered in rubber, but on the ice . . . she shivered. “I've only ice-skated a few times. I'm better on Rollerblades.”

“It's the same principle,” he told her. “Just find your balance and then go with it.” He lifted Troy so he could get the skates under him. Holding Troy steady, David said, “Hang on to me, buddy. I won't let you fall.”

They made their way to the gate that led to the ice. Sophie hung back as David positioned Troy in front of him and eased Troy onto the ice. Troy slipped and let out a surprised yelp but David held on, keeping the boy upright.

“Can you march like a toy soldier?” David asked Troy as he
demonstrated. Troy emulated David's movements. “Perfect. That's how you start. Just march.”

Right.
David made it look so easy. She edged out onto the ice next to them but clung to the railing that circled the rink. She tested the ice and her balance. David and Troy moved away from her, Troy marching as David used short, gliding strokes to propel them forward.

David glanced over his shoulder at her. “You good?”

She waved him on. “Peachy.” What had she been thinking? She did as David had instructed Troy and marched, keeping a hand on the railing. Amazingly, she moved forward, sliding her hand on the railing for safety's sake. Soon she could march without holding on. She grew more confident in her balance and coordination. David and Troy did a full lap around the rink, then caught up with her on their second lap.

“Bend your leg and push off to stroke the ice,” he instructed, and showed her and Troy both how to do it.

The move felt familiar. He was right; it was like Rollerblading. Soon she was gliding, progressing around the rink with David and Troy at her side. Round and round they went, keeping close to the wall and out of the way of the more advanced skaters. They occasionally had to veer from their path for young children or those who'd stopped for a break and clung to the railing along the wall. David showed them how to stop by thrusting their right foot forward at an angle.

The announcer came on, asking everyone to clear the ice for the Zamboni machine to resurface the top layer of the ice. Sophie followed David and Troy to the opening in the wall. She lost sight of them for a moment in the crush of people. Then a warm and strong hand captured hers. She found David at her side, Troy propped on his shoulder. “He wants to watch the Zamboni.”

She nodded and squeezed closer to him, thankful for his steady presence and how right it felt when he encircled her waist with his arm. He steered them out of the crush to a place where Troy could still see the machine.

“That was fun,” she told him with a smile. She expected him to release her, but he kept her close. Which was fine with her. As she listened to David explain what the big machine was doing, she sighed with contentment. How was she going to give this up? And for what? A job?

But it wasn't just a job. It was her career as a whole. It was what she'd spent her whole life working for. If she backed out of this job, she would get a reputation for being unreliable. She couldn't stay. This was her chance. This job was the first step to the career she'd always imagined. She wanted to earn her parents' respect, and to do that she needed to take the top job offers, go where the jobs took her.

Maybe she could come back here after the job in Zurich, she thought. But she knew it didn't work like that. If all went well in Zurich, she'd soon be off to some other exotic location. She could come back, but never for long.

How could she allow herself to fall in love knowing she'd always be leaving?

When the Zamboni left the ice, the announcer said it was time for the hokey-pokey. A cheer went up from the skaters and they flooded the rink.

“What's the hokey-pokey?” Troy asked.

David set him back on his feet. “A fun game. Come on, you two, let's hokey-pokey.”

They skated to the center and squeezed into the oval circle of skaters as the music played. Sophie laughed as they showed Troy the moves.

“I don't
think I can turn,” Sophie cried as she shook her hands. She attempted a turn and ended up nearly doing a face plant.

David snaked an arm around her waist and tucked her close to his side. He held Troy with his other arm and they skated in a tight circle.

When the song ended, the skaters dispersed. David led Sophie and Troy back to the wall. “Good job on the hokey-pokey.” He high-fived Troy, then Sophie.

She curled her fingers around his and held on. “Good job yourself.”

They shared a moment, their eyes locking. He tugged her forward until their skates were touching. “You're beautiful.”

Her heart stuttered at his words. “Thank you.”

He grinned and then kissed her. A sweet, quick kiss, but it was enough to make her breath stall and her head swim. He released her and took off with Troy. She watched them make their way through the skaters. She loved them. Both of them. And hadn't the foggiest idea what to do about it.

After a lunch break in the café attached to the ice rink, David couldn't wait to get back out on the ice. He'd forgotten how much he liked to skate. But even more, he liked watching the joy on Sophie's face as she mastered skating. She was doing so well. So was Troy. The kid was a natural. David decided formal lessons were in his nephew's future. Troy needed to be active and make some friends. He could join an ice-hockey team for youngsters. They could have a sport in common.

“Okay, everyone grab your sweetheart.” The announcer's
disembodied voice filled the rink. “It's couple skate.” A love song played through the speakers.

Sophie turned to head for the break in the wall that led to the spectators' section.

“Where are you going?” David called out. “You're our sweetheart.”

“Yeah,” Troy piped up. “You're our sweetheart.”

Sophie's cheeks brightened with a pretty blush and she skated back to them. She took Troy's hand and nodded with her chin for David to take Troy's other hand. David's heart flipped over as he grasped Troy's hand. With Troy between them, they skated together, like a real family.

He couldn't help the tidal wave of longing that hit him square in the chest. He wanted this. Wanted to make a family with Sophie. He'd fallen in love with her. The thought wound a corded rope of apprehension and fear around his chest. She was leaving, he reminded himself.

He'd promised he wouldn't ask her to stay. He couldn't. It wouldn't be fair. He couldn't ask her to give up her dream job, an opportunity to further her career. Not when he knew once this vacation was over and life returned to its new normal, David would have to refocus all his energy into his company when he wasn't with Troy. There wouldn't be anything left for a romance.

Was that true? Or was he afraid?

The unbidden questions made his mouth go dry. Of course he was afraid. Pain always followed love. Yet he had a hard time equating Sophie with pain. She was light and good and everything that a man could want in a wife.

Oh, man.

He wasn't looking for a wife. Didn't want that kind of emotional turmoil.

But Daniel and Beth had been happy. Their parents had been happy.

As long as we're together, his mom would say, life can throw anything it wants at us.

And it had. Painful, horrible things.

Things that were out of their control.

The disturbing thoughts twirled around his mind like the skaters on the ice.

On their second lap around, Troy drew their hands together until David was holding Sophie's. “You two go round,” Troy urged and then he skated to the side.

“He and Grandma must be in cahoots,” Sophie said with a laugh as she skated next to him.

“Cahoots?” He liked holding her hand, their gliding steps in sync.

“In case you haven't noticed, Grandma has been playing matchmaker.”

He wagged his eyebrows. “Oh, I've noticed.”

And he was helpless to stop it. Didn't want to, in fact. Which left him confused and conflicted. Especially when her shy smile caused his heart to twist like a pretzel in his chest. How could he be so happy with her yet resist looking forward to a future together?

He'd never been in a situation like this before and wasn't sure what to do.

When the song ended and the announcer called out, “All skate to the last song of the public session,” David and Sophie returned to Troy's side.

“Okay, buddy, this is the last time around,” David told Troy, though he had to admit he was enjoying the skating so much more with Sophie at his side.

“Why?”
Troy groused as they moved out onto the ice.

“It's the way it works, kiddo,” Sophie said. “I saw on the schedule they have a figure-skating class after this.”

“I don't want to go home,” Troy muttered and jerked away from David.

David's stomach clenched. Oh, no. Please, Lord, not a tantrum here on the ice.

Troy pulled ahead of them, his little legs digging into the ice and his arms pumping. Concerned that Troy would fall or cause someone else to fall, David shot Sophie a quick glance and saw her nod; then he took off at a fast pace after Troy.

Troy cut away from the wall and headed toward the center of the rink, where a group of older teens was skating backward and spinning around each other.

“Troy, no!” David called out.

Troy didn't stop, but forged headlong into the group. A large teen spun on his skates, not noticing Troy until it was too late. The teen struggled to stop but he rammed into Troy with his hip, sending them both flying. Troy's feet came out from beneath him and he landed on his back, his head hitting the ice, hard.

It seemed as if the world froze. David could no longer hear the music. Only the roar of panic filling his veins.

“Troy!” David's heart stopped. He skated to Troy's side. Troy's eyes were closed. Red seeped onto the ice. David couldn't breathe as panic gripped him in a stranglehold. “Please, Lord, no.” His first instinct was to gather Troy into his arms. He reached for him.

“Don't touch him,” came a stern voice. A man in a red jacket with a white cross on the breast pocket knelt beside Troy. “I'm the ice marshal. Let me get this on him. Then we'll lift him onto the litter.” The man gingerly placed a neck collar around Troy's neck.

David blinked as the world resumed and the noise of the rink returned. Soft hands clutched his arm. He turned to find Sophie next him, her face pale and her eyes large and worried.

“Help me lift him,” the ice marshal said.

David gathered Troy's torso while the ice marshal gently lifted his head. The boy that had slammed into Troy lifted Troy's feet. They secured him onto the litter.

“An ambulance is on its way,” someone said from behind them.

The ice marshal lifted a rope attached to the litter and then skated toward the gate, dragging the litter behind him. David and Sophie hurried after him.

By the time they had the litter at the front lobby, the ambulance had arrived. The paramedics took possession of the litter and Troy. They assessed him, then lifted the litter into the back of the ambulance. David handed Sophie the keys to his truck before he climbed into the ambulance next to Troy.

One paramedic shot a sharp glance at the skates still on David's feet. David didn't flinch. The paramedic shrugged and closed the doors.

Through the little windows cut out in the back doors of the rig, David saw Sophie standing on the sidewalk as the ambulance pulled away. When she was out of sight, he took Troy's hand and bowed his head.

“Lord, I know I have no right to ask, but please . . . I can't lose him.”

At the hospital, David was forced to stay back as the nurses and orderlies rushed in to take Troy out of the ambulance. Then they whisked Troy to the emergency room. David followed, the skates on his feet clicking on the hospital floor, but a nurse blocked the way as the doors swung shut behind Troy.

“Sir, you can't
go back there,” the nurse said.

“But my son,” David said. “He needs me.”

“He's getting the best care possible.” She steered him toward a desk. “We need you to fill out some forms.”

“Forms?” Forms weren't important. All that was important was Troy. Tears burned the backs of David's eyes.

The nurse gently pushed him into a chair at a desk. The woman sitting on the other side stared at him with compassion. David had no idea what the forms said or what he signed. He couldn't think, couldn't process. Where was Sophie?

Then she was there. Her touch tender, her heart in her eyes. She was his anchor in the stormy chaos of panic and fear. He reached for her, like a lifeline. And froze.

Alarm bells clanged loudly inside his head. What was he doing? Lifelines could be severed. Cut clean through by drought and disease. In car crashes and freak accidents. The only control he had was protecting himself and Troy. He jerked back and stared at the floor.