An Accidental Mom (17 page)

He’d been beating himself up over Melissa’s death for far too long. Logic and common sense told him it wasn’t his fault that the poor girl had overdosed. Still…

But Lily had a point. Maybe. If she was right about this whole faith thing, maybe he could let go of the past.

No maybes about it, Max thought; if Lily was at his side, he could overcome
anything.

“I don’t want to lose you again, Lily. If learning how to have faith will keep you in my life, it’s as good as done.”

“We go too far back for you to worry about anything like that.”

She’d misunderstood, thought he meant he didn’t want to lose her
friendship.
Sure, he wanted that, because what kind of marriage would it be without it? But he wanted more. All of it. The whole ball of wax. Fireworks, hearts and flowers, bells and whistles, the whole nine romantic yards.

Max grabbed her shoulders, forced her to meet his eyes, gave her a gentle shake. He wanted to say,
I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you!
But that look in her eyes—that spark of suspicion, that glint of mistrust—choked off the words.

He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then gathered her near. “Ah, Lily,” he sighed into her hair. Soon, he’d tell her everything she needed to hear—and a few things she hadn’t even considered yet.

But not here, not now. He had a lot of work to do first, to earn her trust, to smother her suspicion.

“Want to go back to Cammi’s room?”

She nodded.

He gathered up the flowers and the chocolate, then slid an arm around her and led her into the hall.

Yes, he had a lot of work to do. But he had time. And when he had finished, things would be all right.

Funny, but suddenly he believed that.
Really
believed it.

Smiling, Max understood why.

He’d found the meaning of faith.

A
fter the Christmas Eve service, parishioners gathered on the church steps, laughing and talking, sharing holiday plans. Max hadn’t felt this welcomed or at ease, anywhere, in a long time.

“Your mom did
what?
”

“Eloped. Left a note and everything.”

Lamont chuckled. “No foolin’?”

Max pretended to read it: “‘Dear Son, Running off to get married. Take care of my cane.’”

Laughing, Lamont said, “Well, she spared you the fuss and bother of a wedding. Count your blessings.”

He found himself doing that a lot lately, thanks to Lily.

A week or so before Christmas, she’d introduced him to the writings of Henry Van Dyke. Max hadn’t expected to like the poems and essays, but read them because he had promised Lily he would. No one was more surprised than Max when the simple yet beautiful words reminded him of God’s awesome power.
As a result, he’d gone back to church—not because Georgia needed a ride or Nate wanted to attend a social, but because his rediscovered sense of peace had drawn him into the fellowship.

“Speaking of marriage,” Max said, taking Lamont aside, “there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Backs to the rest of the crowd, the men stood just around the corner of the church.

“I’m sure you know how I feel about Lily….”

Lamont smiled. “I’ve known since you were both still in school.”

Nodding, Max said, “I figured as much. So I was wondering…what would you say if I asked her to marry me?”

As the awkward moment of silence ticked by, Max realized he hadn’t considered what he’d do if Lamont didn’t give his consent. He wouldn’t go against the man’s wishes.

Or would he?

He loved Lily, more than he’d ever imagined it was possible to love another human being. But without her father’s blessing, life might prove to be difficult at best.

Lamont gave Max a fatherly slap on the back. “I’d say it’s about time, that’s what!”

Overwhelmed with gratitude and relief, Max threw his arms around his father-in-law to be. “Thanks, Lamont.” He stepped back, ran both hands through his hair. “I’ll be good to her. You’ve got my word on it.”

He looked at the older, wiser face, read the mis
chievous expression and prepared for a “you will if you know what’s good for you” speech.

“I don’t doubt it for a minute,” Lamont said instead. Abruptly, he turned, guided Max back toward the church entrance. “Tell you what,” he said. “There’s no sense in your going home, spending Christmas Eve alone. You’re coming to dinner anyway, so why don’t you and Nate stay in the guest room tonight.” He paused, then added, “I think it would do us all a lot of good, having a child in the house on Christmas morning.”

Cammi and Reid hadn’t been out of the house until tonight’s service. He’d half expected they’d be sullen and withdrawn, burdened by their grief. They’d been anything but! The newlyweds looked genuinely happy. Surely there would still be private moments of mourning, but it was clear that their faith had pulled them through.

“Thanks, Lamont,” Max said. “Nate would love that…and so would I.”

Lily’s dad grinned. “Once there’s a ring on her finger, feel free to call me ‘Dad.’”

He’d noticed that’s how Reid referred to the man; Max was touched to be so easily included into the London family. “Thanks,” he said again, meaning it.

One more blessing to be counted….

“This is really nice of you,” Max said at the London house later that evening. “If I wrapped them, Nate’s presents would look like a gorilla had done it.”

Lily pointed to the one gift Max
had
wrapped and
grinned. “I see what you mean.” Then she added, “Don’t think I’m doing it for nothing.”

He took a step closer. “So there’s a price tag on the gesture?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said around a length of curly ribbon, “big one. You have to help me decorate the cookies.”

“You’re joking. Knowing what a klutz I am, you’d—”

“The cookies need to look festive, not store-bought. Your touch is exactly what the job calls for.”

“Okay, if you say so….”

“This is my favorite night of the year.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, listen to the house, all hushed and peaceful. I wonder if it sounded like this in the manger, the night Christ was born?”

Max took her in his arms. “Not likely, with all those cows and donkeys. And let’s not forget that kid with his drum.”

Lily laughed. “And you call
me
silly!”

He glanced at the tree. “Your dad tells me you decorated the tree all by yourself.”

She nodded.

“Decorated the whole house.”

Another nod. “And your point is?”

“Answer me something…”

“Yes?”

“How’d you get the angel up there? That tree must be twenty feet tall.”

“Fifteen. But only because we’re limited by the ceiling. And to answer your question, I got the angel
up there with the aid of a handy little invention known as the stepladder. Amazing contraption. Every house oughta have one.”

“Nut,” he said. He drew her closer. “What if this was your standard eight-foot ceiling?”

“Then, I guess we’d have a seven-foot tree.” Grinning as her brow furrowed, Lily said, “Why do you ask?”

A smug little grin turned up one corner of his mouth. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering, that’s all.” Max glanced around the room. “Where’s Missy?”

“Upstairs in the guest room…on the foot of Nate’s bed.”

Max chuckled. “I should have known. That kid loves her.”

“She loves him, too.”

Another all-knowing little grin. Then he said, “Yeah, she does.”

Lily grabbed his wrist, started rolling up his shirtsleeve.

“What’re you doing?”

“Just checking to see what’s up there.” She gave him a wary glance. “You’ve been acting like the cat that swallowed the canary all evening. What’s up?”

He let go of her, headed for the tree. Down on one knee, he wiggled his eyebrows. “What-say we open one present tonight?”

“Max! We can’t do that! It’s—”

“It’s past midnight. Technically, it’s Christmas morning. C’mon. What do you say?”

He looked so much like an innocent boy at that moment, with the colorful lights reflecting in his big
dark eyes, that Lily didn’t know how she could refuse. “All right,” she said, joining him on the floor, “but just one.”

“One’ll do it,” he said, grabbing the package he’d wrapped.

Lily slid one of his presents from a small stack; if he opened this one tonight, he’d be able to wear it tomorrow.

He took her hand, led her to the couch. “You first,” he said, patting the cushion beside him.

“No…
you
first.”

“But what about the old rule—Ladies First?”

“I like to shake things up once in a while. Gentleman can be at the front of the line…sometimes.” She nodded toward his gift. “Go ahead. Open it.”

She’d spent half an hour getting the foil paper tucked over the corners—just right; arranging the wide bow—just so. Max tore into it in less than a second, it seemed. Laughing as he lifted the lid, she said, “What took you so long!”

He dug through the tissue paper and pulled out the sweater. “It’s great,” he said. “I hope it’s big enough.” He looked inside the collar. “Hey, there’s no label.”

“That’s because I made it.”

Max stared at her, blinking as the information sunk in.

“A homemade sweater?” He held it up to his chest. “You
made
this?”

She nodded.

“When did you have time?”

“I had hours and hours, in the barn. If one of the
animals is bad-off, I spend the night out there, to keep an eye on things. Can’t risk dozing off, so I do stuff like that to keep myself awake.”

“You spent hours and hours on
me?
”

Smiling, she said, “You’re worth it.”

Max studied the intricate cabling that decorated the sweater’s front. “It’s beautiful.” He met her eyes. “I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” she said. “I’m not.”

“That’s exactly what I said to you in Chicago, when you saw my office.”

He was right, and it touched her that he remembered something so seemingly trivial. Maybe he’d been telling the truth that day in the hospital chapel, when he’d said he had much to prove to her.

“Your turn,” he said, pointing to the box on her lap.

Lily deliberately took her time peeling off the stick-on bow, picking at the cellophane tape that held the Christmas-stockings paper in place. The waiting was driving him crazy, and she knew it. Smiling, she slowed her pace even more.

“You have exactly ten seconds,” he said, his voice quiet and deep, “to open that box. After that,
I’m
gonna do it for you.” He pulled back his shirtsleeve to expose his watch, and started counting. “Ten, nine, eight…”

“All right, spoilsport, have it your way.” Lily lifted off the lid and pulled back the crinkled white tissue paper. “It’s…it’s a…” She met his eyes. “A dog leash?”

“Uh-huh. But there’s more. Keep digging.”

She found an envelope buried in the bottom and slid out its contents. Missy’s pedigree! “Max,” she sighed, heart thumping with relief and joy and love. “How did you… When did you? I can’t believe it!” She threw her arms around him, kissed him soundly on the cheek. “So she’s mine? For real?”

“That’s what the papers say.”

“Maxwell Sheridan, I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, pushing her away. “Quit stalling. There’s more in that envelope.”

Lily couldn’t help but notice…he hadn’t said he loved her, too.

Sighing, she focused on his instructions. When she shook the envelope, a key fell into her upturned palm. The key to his heart?
Fat chance,
Lily thought.

“What does it open?”

“A door.”

“A door,” she echoed. “
What
door?”

“To a house.”

“A house,” she said, her voice a dull monotone as the frustration built. “
What
house?”

“The one across the road.”

She looked toward the front door. “The Morgan place?” Frowning, Lily said, “Max, what on earth are you doing with their house key!”

“Isn’t theirs,” he said calmly. And poking a finger into her chest, he added, “It’s yours.”

“Mine? But…” She didn’t understand.

“Okay. All right.” He leaned forward, balancing elbows on knees, and clasped his hands in the space between. “Maybe this will clear things up….” He held her left hand in his and looked deep into her
eyes. “What would you say if I told you Missy and the house across the road are yours to keep?”

“I’d say, ‘Will you marry me?’” she blurted. Instantly, her fingertips went to her lips. Too late—the words were already out. In the space of two minutes, she’d succeeded in saying
everything
guaranteed to scare a confirmed bachelor into the next county.

He huffed. “You’re not even gonna get down on one knee?”

Lily blinked. “I’m not—
What?
”

“And here I thought you were an old-fashioned girl, one who treasured tradition. Boy—” he shook his head “—was I wrong.”

“Max, I—”

“When you ask a guy to marry you, you’re supposed to get down on one knee. Take his hand in yours. Look longingly into his eyes.
Then
you say, ‘Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband’?”

Lily’s breathing was coming in short, soft gasps, her heart pounding like a parade drum. “And if I did all that,” she began, not even caring that her voice trembled, that her hands quaked, “what would you say?”

He answered by taking her face in his hands. “I’d say, ‘I love you, with all my heart. Always have, always will. And I could kick myself for not realizing it years ago, so we could be married by now!’” He paused, smiled. “
Then
I’d say, ‘What took you so long to ask!’” He kissed the tip of her nose.

“So…is that a yes?”

“Say yes, Dad!” Nate said, jumping up and down in the doorway. “Say yes!”

Missy joined the three-way hug, tail wagging and doggy lips grinning.

“Well,” Nate said, frowning at his father. “What are you waiting for?” He smacked the heel of his hand to his forehead.

“Say it!”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“Hooray!” Nate hollered.

“Shh,” Lily rustled his dark curls. “You’ll wake everyone up.”

“Sorry…Mom.”

Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked into the merry little face.

“Get a load o’
that,
” Max said. “One minute you’re footloose and fancy free, the next…”

The answers to every prayer she’d prayed for herself were right here in this room. Lily had a feeling this would be the most memorable Christmas ever.

“Mom,” she whispered. “Accidentally, sort of, but,
Mom!
”