If I Trust You (If You Come Back To Me #4) (18 page)

Well, of course I know. You meant more to me than anything money could ever buy. But the money is my legacy to you. Besides, you wouldn’t deny me the pleasure of buying my daughter a Christmas dress, would you?

The salesclerk looked at her like she was a tad “off” when Deidre suddenly gave a bark of laughter and smiled. She handed the woman the debit card.

Thank you
, she thought to herself fervently,
and Merry Christmas, Lincoln.

* * *

Marc wolf-whistled when she joined him downstairs that afternoon wearing her new dress.

“Who’d have guessed there was a goddess hiding under your army fatigues,” he joked.

Deidre snorted and gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Who’d have guessed there was an ornery big brother under the facade of a Cook County prosecutor and U.S. senator-to-be?”

She was feeling a little more heartened by the time they left Riley with her nanny and got in a cab. Christmas Eve was definitely in the air, she realized as the cabdriver pulled off the inner drive and into the bustling downtown area. Michigan Avenue was packed with last-minute shoppers and tourists. Christmas lights shone on every tree lining the street. The tiny, white lights, not the old-fashioned color ones, Deidre realized.

She tried to ignore the pang of melancholy that went through her when she thought of Nick’s and her Christmas tree standing dark and silent in the Cedar Cottage living room.

All during the concert she had to suppress an urge to ask her brother what the right thing to do was in regard to Nick, her mother...her entire future. She didn’t really expect Marc to give her a cut-and-dried answer, but she couldn’t help but wish for the impossible.

Mari was going to pick up her brother Ryan at the airport following the concert, so Marc and Deidre returned to the townhouse to get things ready for their arrival. Riley was taking a nap, so they relieved the nanny and followed a couple mealtime preparation instructions Mari had given them. Afterward, they concentrated on whipping the house into a festive condition.

“Why don’t you just spill it, Dee,” Marc said dryly as he built a fire in the living room and Deidre lit all the Christmas lights.

“Spill what?” Deidre asked, turning toward him. She grabbed her cup of hot apple cider off the mantel and sat down in a chair before the fireplace.

“You were practically vibrating during the concert you were thinking so hard. Why don’t you just tell me what’s on your mind?” Marc said. He gave the flickering logs and kindling one last poke and tossed the fire iron aside before he took a seat next to her.

She bit her bottom lip uncertainly.

“I’ve never been undecided in my life,” she sighed. “The right choice always seemed so clear to me. I knew without a doubt I wanted to practice nursing, even more specifically, emergency and trauma medicine. I knew I wanted to serve in the military in combat, where my skills would be most needed. I knew I was right in keeping my distance from Mom....” She trailed off hesitantly, but Marc didn’t interrupt her thought process. “Or at least, I
thought
I was right. I suppose I just wish the right choices were as clear to me now as they have been in the past.”

“I got the impression from something Mom said the other day that you and she had been spending some time together. How was that for you?” Marc asked.

“Uncomfortable at first. But it was getting better. Much better,” she said softly, watching as the fire spread through the kindling. She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could just go back to the Middle East or Europe...forget this whole bizarre situation with Lincoln making me an heiress...forget...”

“Nick Malone?”

Deidre glanced at her brother. He looked carelessly handsome sitting there in his shirtsleeves and dress pants. It struck her that he was starting to look very much like Derry Kavanaugh had in his prime—confident and easy with himself, the type of man people instinctively trusted and respected. Her heart seemed to squeeze in her chest at the poignant realization of the inevitable passage of time.

“You think I was a fool to ever trust Nick, don’t you?”

Marc didn’t respond immediately. She could sense him choosing his words in the silence.

“You’re wondering if
you
can trust him,” Marc said. “I can’t be the one to tell you that, Deidre. Only you can know that. I have faith in
you,
if that helps any.”

She met his stare and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said with a small grin.

They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“Do you think that Mom and Dad trusted each other after their affairs...I mean,
really
trusted?” Deidre asked him.

Marc inhaled slowly. “Mom has told me that she took a vow to forget the past and move ahead with Dad. I believe it was true on both of their parts. I never caught the slightest hint when I was a kid that they weren’t completely devoted to each other,” Marc said. “Did you?”

Deidre shook her head, staring at the growing flames. “That’s what made discovering the truth about Lincoln that much more devastating.”

Marc grunted in agreement.

“Poor Dad. I can’t imagine how it must have hit him,” she whispered.

Marc’s head came around.

“You and Dad always had a special bond,” Marc said. “The tragedy was, Dad never lived to come to terms with the truth and recognize you would always be his daughter. Always.”

“Do you think he would have eventually understood that?” Deidre asked in a hushed tone.

“I have no doubt,” Marc said firmly. “Did I ever tell you that Dad and I had a stupid argument before he died? We fought about where I should go to law school. For a few years afterward, I was haunted by the idea that a petty fight was our last interaction. Did he die with anger in his heart toward me? Over time, I’ve realized the insignificant spats of a minute or a day can’t begin to diminish the ocean of love a parent has for a child. Having Riley assured me of that.” He met Deidre’s gaze. “You were Derry Kavanaugh’s daughter.
That
was what was truly in his heart when he died. That, and all his love for you.”

Deidre sniffed. Marc smiled and dug in his pocket for a handkerchief. He handed it to her, but when he didn’t immediately relinquish it, she looked into his face.

“Lincoln DuBois was a wonderful man, too, from all I’ve gathered,” Marc said. “I imagine if we had the ability to see into his heart, we’d see that you were his daughter, as well. You’ve experienced a lot of heartache and loss in your life, Dee. I know it hurts, losing both Derry and Lincoln. But in the end, they were
both
your fathers.”

A tremor of emotion shuddered through her. Marc was right. She’d always considered herself to be the odd child out, different, fatherless.

But in reality, she’d been blessed with
two
wonderful fathers...and a mother who loved her very much.

Deidre took the handkerchief and patted her damp cheeks. “You know what?” she asked as she stood. “I just made a decision about something.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to Harbor Town.”

Marc blinked. “To Sycamore Avenue?”

Deidre nodded, drying the tears off her cheeks one last time, and handed back the handkerchief. “Yes, but to the Starling Hotel first. I’m hoping Nick is still there, and that he forgives me for acting so...”

She faded off at the sound of people entering the front door. A moment later, Mari entered the living room followed by her older brother, Ryan.

“Merry Christmas,” Ryan said.

“Merry Christmas!” Deidre went over to greet them, going up on her tiptoes to give Ryan a hug after not seeing him for half a lifetime.

“You and Mari are just alike,” Deidre told Ryan warmly when they parted and inspected each other. “I wouldn’t have thought she could get more beautiful, just like I wouldn’t have thought you could get more handsome. You both had to go and prove me wrong.”

“I can’t believe it,” Ryan said, looking down at her with a teasing glint in his dark eyes. “Is this the same little girl with braces and a perpetual skinned knee who used to rise to every one of Marc’s and my dares?”

“Always used to top you guys doing them, too,” Deidre shot back, noticing when Marc and Ryan shared a grin. She winked at Mari. Maybe this Christmas would be the one where the two men finally found a new path to friendship.

“Deidre was just telling me she’s going back to Harbor Town,” Marc said.

“What?” Mari asked, her smile fading.

“I’m so sorry, Mari. Would you mind very much? It’s just that...” She waved her hand lamely. “I suddenly realized that Harbor Town is where I should be this Christmas Eve.”

“I started thinking, maybe we should head that way, too,” Marc said, looking from Ryan to Mari. “The family will be there. It’d be a good opportunity to break our news,” he said, giving Mari a significant glance. “What do you two think?”

Mari’s mouth opened in amazement. “Well, I’m sure Ryan doesn’t want to go to Harbor Town—”

“I’d like to go,” Ryan said.

Deidre, Marc and Mari all glanced at Ryan in amazement. The circumstances of Ryan’s last Harbor Town visit, and his encounter with the Kavanaughs, had not been pleasant.

“Are you sure?” Mari murmured.

“Yeah,” Ryan said firmly. “There’s something important I need to do in the area. I was planning to go back to Michigan on this visit. Might as well be tonight.”

Mari’s bewildered expression faded as she checked her watch. “Well, we could make it if we hurry, I guess.”

Deidre beamed. “I need to go pack and get on the road, then. I’ll meet you guys at Mom’s? I have to make a quick stop at Cedar Cottage first.” She paused to touch her brother’s arm. Words wouldn’t suffice. She smiled her profound thanks at Marc before she rushed upstairs, her heart racing at the prospect of seeing Nick again.

But would he still be in Harbor Town?

* * *

Several hours later, Brigit approached Nick, who stood next to the glowing Kavanaugh Christmas tree. Deidre’s mother looked very pretty wearing a dark green dress and an anxious, excited expression.

“She’ll be here soon,” Brigit assured him, referring to Deidre.

Marc, Mari, Riley and Ryan Itani had arrived on Sycamore Avenue fifteen minutes ago, giving the gathered family a wonderful Christmas surprise. Brigit had been visibly moved by the news that her eldest daughter had decided to join the family for the first time in years.

Nick thought he’d been just as affected by the news, even if he hadn’t showed it like Brigit had.

He’d reluctantly agreed to come to Brigit’s for Christmas Eve when she’d called, but now he was having serious doubts. He had no reason to believe Deidre would be happy about his unexpected presence at a family gathering.

“I’m worried about those reporters I’ve been giving the slip,” he said quietly to Brigit “They’ve gotten wind of the fact that a big story is about to break at DuBois Enterprises. So far they don’t seem to be attaching any significance to Deidre, but I wouldn’t be surprised at anything at this point,” he added under his breath, thinking of John Kellerman. It’d undoubtedly been Kellerman who had leaked the story about Nick being in Harbor Town, trying to put pressure on Nick to make a final decision in regard to the will and possibly to embarrass Nick by putting his and Deidre’s relationship in the limelight.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine. Marc was just telling me Deidre might arrive a little later than them. She wanted to stop somewhere first, but Marc didn’t say—”

Everyone in the crowded living room glanced toward the foyer when they heard the front door opening. Nick instinctively took a step toward the hallway, but forced himself to pause when he recalled that Deidre wouldn’t be thrilled at all to see him at a homecoming that was already bound to be emotionally trying for her.

Colleen ducked out of the room to meet her sister. A moment later, Deidre appeared in the opened French doors, her face alight as she gazed at her family members assembled in the large, festively decorated living room.

Her gaze landed on Nick and stuck.

A few seconds stretched. He’d never seen anything so amazing in his life as the sight of Deidre standing there in a regal red dress, all vestiges of the defiant, fierce waif gone, in their place a poised, stunning woman. But no—it wasn’t the dress that had made the change. It was the light of hope and forgiveness in her eyes as she stared at him.

Time unstuck. Brigit rushed toward her daughter. Deidre’s hug seemed every bit as loving as her mother’s. Nick remained standing between the Christmas tree and fireplace, watching as Deidre exclaimed in excitement upon seeing Natalie and Liam—both of them tanned from their honeymoon and grinning from ear to ear—and hugged them enthusiastically. She hugged Brendan and Jenny next, her eyes going wide as though she’d remembered something at the sight of the children. She left the living room and returned a moment later with a large bag filled with Christmas gifts.

“Will you put these under the tree?” she asked the children, smiling.

Brendan gladly relieved her of her burden while Brigit bustled into the kitchen to get Deidre some hot cider. Deidre straightened and smoothed her dress, her gaze immediately finding Nick’s. Her sloping shoulders gleamed in the luminescent Christmas lights as she came toward him. He experienced a strong urge to feel the heat from her smooth, flushed cheeks beneath his fingertips.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Colleen, who had walked up to her sister to talk, glanced over to where Deidre stared at him fixedly and turned away, unnoticed by Deidre.

“Hi,” Deidre said, her lips trembling slightly.

“Hi. Merry Christmas,” Nick said.

“Merry Christmas.”

Her eyes shone like beacons. He opened his mouth to speak, and so did she, but Brigit chose that moment to come toward them with a cup of steaming hot cider.

“I’ve laid dinner out on the sideboard, buffet-style,” Brigit told Deidre.

“Just like when we were kids,” Deidre murmured, taking a sip of her cider.

“Come on, you must be starved,” Brigit urged, taking her hand.