His Holiday Heart (5 page)

He scowled. Scowling was one of his most effective defensive tools. “Certain neighbors have not cleared their sidewalks. They ought to be fined.”

“It’s a holiday. Perhaps they are out of town.”

“Then they should have arranged for someone to do it for them.” Why was he getting so irritated? He hardly cared if the sidewalks were shoveled or not. What he cared about was clearing them for Danielle’s family when they arrived. It was Lucy who was agitating him. “Why aren’t you in the house with the rest of the women?”

“Why aren’t you in the living room watching football with the rest of the men?”

“I don’t approve of sitting around when there’s work to be done.”

“It seems to me, Spence McKaslin, that you don’t approve of most things.” She was amused at him, he could tell by the twinkle in her eyes and the grin playing in the corners of her pretty mouth. “I know what your sisters are saying about us. I overheard them whispering in the kitchen.”

“Oh, here we go.” He gave the contraption a shot of gas as he hit the starter. The snowblower rumbled to life like a Harley running out of gas, and it was just loud enough to give him time to get his anger under control.

“Don’t worry!” She waltzed closer, leaning so close that the silken strands of her hair tickled his jaw. “I’ll try to get them to understand.”

He swallowed hard, not knowing what to do. Denial was useless. He had a crush on Lucy. No amount of defensiveness was going to stop it.

“I have got everything under control.” She shouted to be heard over the rumbling backfire of the blower. “Just before I came out here, I assured everyone that we are
not
together. If I ever decide to fall in love, it will be with a warm, friendly, emotionally open man.”

He broke into laughter. “Did they believe you?”

“It’s a possibility. No one argued with me.”

“No, how could they? I’m not a warm, friendly, emotionally open kind of guy.” He grinned. “Thanks for telling me. Now I can enjoy my Thanksgiving meal without all this worrying about what my sisters are going to pull next.”

“You have always been safe from me, Spence. You know that, don’t you?” She tossed the scoop, and it landed with a plop in the deicer bag. “I’m not on the hunt for a husband.”

“I thought all unmarried women were.”

“Then I’m the exception to the rule.” She watched his shoulders visibly relax. Poor Spence. He believed that. He must have a poor opinion of women and marriage. “When I decide to hunt for a husband, I’ll set my sights on a quality man.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not?” He was grinning wide enough to show that hint of a dimple again.

She forgot to feel uncomfortable around him when he smiled like that. “I’m just saying that I’m not looking right now. But as far as quality goes, you’re a good man, Spence. You shouldn’t work so hard to hide it.”

“You’ve got me all wrong, Lucy.” His grin disappeared right along with his dimples, but a crinkle of amusement remained in the corners of his midnight-blue eyes. “I’m cold, unfriendly, emotionally closed and proud of it.”

“Saying it won’t make it true.”

“Sure it will. You have to think positive.” He tossed her a wink before he strolled off, pushing the whining snow blower.

Why was she laughing? She didn’t actually
like
Spence, did she? She watched him power the machine down the sidewalk toward the deep accumulation of snow at the property line. Snow sprayed in a stream from the mouth of the blower and beat against the snow-covered shrubbery, obscuring Spence from her sight but not from her thoughts.

He was definitely a quality man. Spence hadn’t just done the neighbor’s sidewalk but had moved on down the block, clearing as he went.

There was nothing he could do to hide all his goodness. It was his personality that was the problem. She wrapped her arms around her middle, shivered and hurried back inside the warm house where she had friends waiting.

“D
o you want some peas, Lucy?”

She put her butter knife on the plate and recognized trouble twinkling in Mary Whitman’s eyes. The older lady was hopeful. It was a look mirrored on the faces of all the people seated around the lovely dining-room table. Lucy nudged the handprint turkey crafted by Tyler in his kindergarten class to make room for the bowl of rolls.

“Thanks, Mary.” She took the bowl from the well-meaning grandmother. Clearly, the whole family thought she was Spence’s only hope, and they weren’t taking no for an answer.

She spooned baby peas swimming in butter sauce onto her crowded plate. She really had told the truth. If she ever found a man to love again, it had to be a guy whose heart was wide open, who could genuinely be in love with her. She wanted true love. She wrote about it. She believed in it. She intended to settle for nothing less.

“It’s so nice to have you here, Lucy,” Mary said. “Are you a good cook?”

Oh, she knew exactly where Mary was heading. She was assessing wife skills. Lucy put the spoon back into the bowl. “Do you know what I’m good at in the kitchen? The microwave.”

On her other side, Spence gave a disapproving huff. The family burst out in laughter.

“You are too funny, Lucy,” Katherine said from the other side of the table. “I bet you are an accomplished cook.”

“If I have any cooking abilities, I’m going to soundly deny them. I have no housewifey skills whatsoever—or any that I will admit to.” She shoved the bowl in Spence’s direction.

Was that amusement sparkling in his eyes? Her fingers brushed his as she released the bowl. He was a marvel. The scowl on his face looked genuine, but she knew it wasn’t. For a moment their gazes met, sharing the private joke. He understood without words what she was trying to do.

“That’s too bad.” Spence dumped peas onto his crowded plate. “Lucy, there’s no way I can date you now.”

“It’s a blessing we’re not together, then.” She watched the faces around the table. The sisters were sharing knowing looks. Dorrie shook her head, her eyes full of love for her son, as if she wasn’t buying any of it.

Mary chuckled. “None of us are blind, dear. We can see what you cannot.”

“Help.” Lucy turned to the man at her side. “I don’t know how to make this stop.”

The corners of his frown threatened to turn into a grin. “Neither do I. Welcome to my life.”

“Now I understand the scowl.” She watched his sisters dissolve into laughter.

“We’re just curious,” Ava spoke up, cheerful as always. “We can’t believe you’re here. With Spence.”

“You are a brave woman,” Aubrey chimed in.

“Spence has never brought a young lady to meet the family before,” Dorrie added.

High hopes. Lucy understood what that was like. She had been there before, wishing for a happy ending even when all signs pointed in the opposite direction. That was why she was alone and why she’d returned an engagement ring. She couldn’t bear to dishearten the McKaslin family, but it had to be done. “Spence, they know that I came with Rebecca, right? Not technically with you.”

“Technically doesn’t matter to them. They are women.” Spence grimaced, looking like an angered grizzly.

“What exactly does that mean?” Lucy set down her fork.

The whispers around the table silenced.

“Uh-oh,” Katherine winced. At her side, Jack hung his head, shaking it from side to side. Their teenaged daughter rolled her eyes.

A pained look swept across Dorrie’s face. Spence’s father, John, sighed in disappointment. Brice and Ava shared a sad look. Aubrey and William gazed at one another with lost hopes. Lauren, Caleb, Rebecca and Chad seemed horribly pained.

“Spence, I told you not to say anything like that.” Danielle’s admonishment came gently, with love.

“I’m just saying the truth.” Spence looked formidable.

Lucy saw the crinkle of humor in the corners of his blue eyes. She couldn’t help coming to his rescue. “It’s a free country. Even a man like Spence is entitled to his opinions.”

“He doesn’t mean it, Lucy.” Dorrie’s motherly affection bordered on desperation. “Spence is the sweetest man—”

“Dorrie.” Spence scowled. “Don’t spread lies about me.”

“Why, I would never lie. I—” Dorrie seemed truly distressed. “He’s not so bad, Lucy. Trust me. You stick around, and you’ll see.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Dorrie, but I don’t think I want to stick around and see.” Lucy’s gentle tone layered her words with kindness and understanding.

“She doesn’t like me, Dorrie.” He said the words as if they didn’t hurt a bit. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Oh.” Dorrie dipped her chin as if she had taken a blow but her voice was still loving. “That’s too bad. I won’t give up hoping for you.”

I wish you would. He kept the thought to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was to disappoint Dorrie more. Sadness had crept into her eyes, and he hated that. “You might want to think about what you’re doing, trying to fix Lucy up with me. Some women might take that as an insult.”

“True. Poor Lucy.” Ava was the first to agree.

“Yes, poor me! Maybe you all have been going about marrying off your brother the wrong way.” He liked the way humor made Lucy’s voice musical. She winked at him, a private wink that only he could see, before she turned to face the rest of the family. “You need to find a better match for him. Maybe there’s a single woman somewhere who is looking for a curmudgeon. Think hard. Maybe you know someone.”

Laughter roared around the table. He felt a few chuckles break free.

“Look!” Rebecca pointed accusingly. “Spence is
laughing.
”

It was just his luck that someone noticed. He had to deny it. He had his reputation to think of. “It was an accident.”

“An accidental laugh?” Judging by the look on her lovely face, Lucy didn’t believe him one bit.

She was a smart woman but not that he was going to admit it. He dug his fork into the mound of mashed potatoes. His best defenses were up, and they were going to stay that way.

“Oh, ho.” Gran sounded delighted. “That’s a sign.”

“It’s not a sign,” he barked through his mashed potatoes.

“Lucy, you ought to come to church with us on Sunday.” Dorrie’s hopes had apparently bounced back. “I’ll host the family dinner, and you will be the guest of honor. John, tell Spence to be on his best behavior.”

“I didn’t know he had a best behavior,” John quipped.

While his family laughed at him, Spence took it in stride. He couldn’t say that he didn’t deserve it. They could rib him all they wanted; he wasn’t going to buckle. Although he expected better from his dad. Dad ought to understand his serious reservations with a woman like Lucy.

“I’m afraid I can’t make it, Dorrie.” Lucy’s apology sounded sincere enough, and he closed his ears to the sound of her voice. He didn’t want to listen to her. He didn’t want to know anything more about her.

She was probably the kind of woman who worked all Sunday through. He supposed it took a lot of ruthless ambition to get where Lucy had in her career. No way was he going to have anything to do with a woman like that, except she didn’t look ruthless.

He loaded his fork with more potatoes. He could see her out of the corners of his eyes, sharing words with Gran. The room around him went fuzzy and out of focus. The conversations around the table turned to static. The only thing he could see clearly was Lucy, golden and bright, in her modest forest green dress and a plain cross on a gold chain, looking like everything good and right in the world, like everything he had ever wanted.

Looks could be deceiving. He hardened his heart because he had to. He could not give in to the temptation. He had to stop liking Lucy Chapin. He had to get a hold of himself, make his brain and his eyes function correctly. He had to stop this crush he had on her; it was like a blight to his heart.

He grabbed his knife and buttered his roll. He just had to get through this meal. Then he never had to interact with Lucy again. He could go back to avoiding her at the bookstore and at church and snarling at her whenever she got into his path.

It wasn’t ideal; it wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best plan he could come up with. Judging by the way his sisters and Dorrie were watching Lucy, as if she were their last hope, he had to do something and fast.

“How did you like the meal, Lucy?”

“It was delicious, Dorrie.” She set the stack of plates on the counter next to the sink, choosing to turn on the water and let it warm instead of facing Spence’s mother directly. How on earth was she going to talk to this woman? Anything she had to say would disappoint poor, hopeful Dorrie. “It was the best Thanksgiving meal I’ve had in some time. You are an amazing cook.”

“Hardly, but that’s nice of you to say.” She set a tray of dirty dishes on the counter. “I hope you felt at home with us today. Spence comes across very brusque.”

“He certainly does.” Lucy turned on the faucet.

“He’s a wonderful man. I keep praying for a nice woman to come along and see him for who he truly is.”

“Then I will pray for that, too.”

Dorrie sighed. “I see that you mean it. You really don’t care about him?”

“Not in the way you’re hoping. I’m sorry.” She kept her tone gentle as she lifted the stack of plates into the sink. “I will be happy to help you find the right woman for him. There’s someone for everyone. God didn’t make us to be alone.”

“No, He didn’t.” Dorrie sidled close, opened the dishwasher and tried to take over doing the dishes. “Tell me why you are all alone?”

“Sometimes love doesn’t work out.” Lucy held her ground at the sink.

“I’m sorry, dear. I really should do the dishes.”

“You cooked. The cook doesn’t clean. I have very strict rules about this.”

A crashing sound rang from the dining room. Ava’s “oops!” brought a round of laughter. Lucy ran a plate under the water. It was perfect timing for a subject change. “You had better go check on that, don’t you think?”

“I’m going to let you have your way, dear, because I like you.” Dorrie had the sweetest smile, exactly the one a loving mother should have. “But I warn you. I’m coming back.”

“I’m still not going to let you do the dishes.” Lucy slid the plate into the dishwasher rack. Merry conversations rang from the adjacent room. As she scraped another plate, she couldn’t help wondering what Spence was up to. Was he watching football in the living room with the other men? Or had he retreated outside again? And why was the back of her neck buzzing? Because Spence was standing in the archway, watching her with his X-ray vision.

The plate slipped out of her hand and landed with a
sploosh.
It was a good thing the drain had backed up or she would owe Katherine a china plate. Trying to pretend her hand wasn’t shaking at the possibility of that shattered plate and
not
because of Spence, she hit the garbage disposal switch and let the chugging sound fill the silence. With any luck, Spence would be gone when she turned it off.

He wasn’t. He was directly behind her. She knew because her nape was tingling again. She slid the plate carefully between the tines on the dishwasher rack and faced him. Water dripped off the tips of her fingers, but both the hand towel and the roll of paper towels were behind him on the opposing counter. Great.

Spence appeared disgusted with her. He whipped the hand towel off the oven handle and jabbed it toward her. “Here. Use this.”

“Thanks.” She grabbed for it, careful to avoid making the slightest contact with him.

“The state patrol is reporting that Blackhawk Hill Road is open and plowed. You can go home.” He was like one giant rock standing in the middle of Katherine’s kitchen—not a blink, not a breath, not the tiniest trace of a movement.

“Inside I’m sure you are overjoyed.”

“Inside I’m dancing a jig.”

“I didn’t think you approved of dancing.” She knelt to wipe up the few droplets she’d left on the floor.

“I don’t.” A muscle ticked in his granite jaw—just once. Then he went back to being stone.

You don’t like this guy, Lucy, she told herself. So why was she struggling not to laugh? She tossed the towel onto the counter. “Thanks for the news. I’ll finish helping out and be on my way.”

“How are you going to do that? Isn’t your car buried?”

“Minor technicality.” She went back to rinsing plates. “I’ll get a shovel.”

“What exactly are you going to do with a shovel?” He scowled.

“The obvious. I’m going to dig out my car so I can go home.”

“Do you know what wind does to snow?” He braced his feet.

“No, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll have to deal with it anyway.” She turned her back to him with firm intention, as if to end the discussion.

Didn’t she have a shred of common sense? He couldn’t understand why she was being this way. She sounded upset—maybe at him, maybe at the snow. More likely it was because of what he’d overheard—and they both knew it.

He strained to hear down the hallway and the calamity in the other room was continuing—the happy sounds of the women as they laughed and worked together. He had a few moments before they interrupted. He took a step closer to Lucy. “Who was the guy who didn’t work out for you?”

“Someone I was going to marry.” She said the words quietly.

He had to strain to hear her. He couldn’t tell if it was sadness or something like regret that hung in the air between them. He wasn’t surprised she had been engaged, only that she never married. She was beautiful and enchanting and sweet as sunrise.

Too bad he didn’t believe in the fairy tale of marriage. Just because it worked out now and then for the best didn’t mean that it did most of the time. Plus, he had learned the hard way that what looked happy on the outside could, in fact be miserable on the inside. His dad’s first marriage had been that way, and Spence had gotten an eyeful—enough that he could taste bitterness on his tongue after all these years.

Someone—it sounded like Ava—whispered, “Shh! We’d better stay in here. Spence is in the kitchen with Lucy. Alone. This may be our only chance to marry him off.”