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Authors: Irene Brand

The Christmas Children (14 page)

BOOK: The Christmas Children
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Carissa didn't respond. Paul was angry at her, and she was scared of what her impetuosity would lead to. If she waited until tomorrow, he might be over his anger.

She was halfway up the stairs, with the girls running ahead of her, when Paul spoke again.

“Carissa?”

She turned, unable to meet his gaze.

“All right. After the girls are in bed and I hear their prayers, I'll come.”

“You gonna talk her out of adopting us?” Alex demanded.

“Carissa makes her own decision, but I think she's promised something she can't do. With your father missing, it could be years before anyone could adopt you.”

“But somebody will have to look after us until then. I can't think of anyone else who's willing to take us. Not even you.”

Paul could understand why Alex had a belligerent attitude, so he tried to explain. “I'm a bachelor and probably wouldn't be allowed to adopt kids even if I wanted to. When I go back to my work, I'll be living in a shack about the size of the kitchen. The job is in an isolated area, without phones or television. A few men take their wives, but I honestly think the living conditions are too rough for women and children.”

Alex's expression, which had been so joyous when Carissa said she'd adopt them, was woebegone again. Paul gave him a quick hug. “Don't start worrying about it. Carissa is a determined woman, and if she's made up her mind to adopt you, nothing anyone says will stop her. So take a shower and go to bed—tomorrow may be a new start for you.”

Paul's anger had cooled considerably by the time Carissa came downstairs. She paused uncertainly on the bottom step.

“Our talk can wait if you're tired,” he said.

“Not physically tired—but emotionally I'm drained. If you want to bawl me out because you'd advised me against adopting the children, I'll save
you the trouble. I admit that I shouldn't have spoken up as I did, but the children's grief got to me. I should have had a lawyer look into their situation before I promised them. I didn't build Cara's Fashions by giving in to my emotions, and I shouldn't have acted impulsively. But I did, so I'll live with it.”

He took her hand and led her to the couch. He turned off the overhead light, leaving only a small lamp to illuminate the room. When she didn't rebuff him, he pulled her gently down beside him, relieved that his temper was under control. Had he been angry because Carissa had spoken, or because she had alerted him to his own responsibility?

“My concern is for you. This is too much for you to handle alone. Your agreement with Naomi is for two months. Where will you take them after that? You'll have to establish a residence somewhere.”

“I have a house in Florida.”

“But when the state of Vermont has custody of our children, you might have to live there.”

“Don't ask me such questions. I have no idea what I've gotten myself into, and I can't even think about it. I've lived alone for years and I don't know what I'll do with three extra people in my home. Since I've been in Yuletide, I haven't had more than an hour to myself at any given time. That's frustrating. No wonder I'm making foolish mistakes.”

Paul remembered that Carissa had been reluctant to assume supervision of the children, and he'd more
or less pushed her into it. “It isn't a mistake to have compassion for others, Carissa. It's a trait more of us should have.” He moved closer and, wondering if he dared, drew Carissa into the shelter of his arms.

“It didn't seem as if I was the one who spoke,” Carissa said softly into the fabric of his shirt. “It was almost as if God was speaking through me. I've read in the Scriptures that sometimes God puts words in our mouth. Deep down, I don't
want
to do this, but it seems to be the right thing to do.”

He patted her back comfortingly. “I'll do what I can to help you as long as I'm here. I'll ask Justin to contact that sheriff again and learn everything he can about the children's father. In the meantime, we'll show them we love them and give them a Christmas to remember. You'll make a wonderful mother.”

Pleased by his praise, Carissa stared up at him in astonishment, and the expression in his eyes made her heart beat very fast.

Her thick, curling lashes dropped in confusion. Paul touched her chin and lifted it upward. The pale gleam from the lamp lit her face with a dancing glow, and her eyes were very bright. A half smile hovered about her lips. Even as he bent closer, Paul struggled for control. He wanted to kiss her, but what if he upset her again? Emotional gravity seemed to pull them together, and when their lips touched in a gentle kiss, Carissa didn't pull away. Slowly her arms slipped around his neck, and she eased com
fortably into his embrace. His heart thudded when he realized that emotions he'd thought he killed long ago were still alive and well.

The touch of Paul's lips brought an irresistible sensation to Carissa's heart, and she was happy at her own eager response to his gentle touch. Lying trustingly in his arms, she experienced no guilt. Once, she'd thought that to enjoy kissing and touching was immoral, but these few moments in Paul's arms had brought a new awareness that
real
love between a man and woman was more than sensual, it was also a meeting of mind and soul. After having known Paul for such a short time, could she possibly be in love with him? As incredible as it seemed, Carissa believed that was the case.

“Oh, Paul!” she murmured. Carissa eased out of his arms, not knowing that her eyes were glowing with an intensity that Paul found hard to resist. A rosy hue stained her cheeks.

As he watched the play of emotions on her face, Paul knew that his kiss had unlocked her heart. Carissa's lips parted in a smile as intimate as a kiss, and she studied his face feature by feature, her eyes dancing with excitement.

Paul was humbled to witness her metamorphosis from an emotionless woman to this vibrant, lovable person with a heart full of affection. Once he'd witnessed the emergence of a golden-winged butterfly from its cocoon. He knew now the same awe and unworthiness he'd experienced then.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” he murmured, his lips hovering in the soft curve of her throat.

“For making me feel alive. For letting me experience the kind of closeness I've often envied among other couples. For causing me to lose my misguided notion about the results of affection between a man and a woman.”

“That kiss taught me several things, too.”

Afraid to ask what he meant, unwillingly, Carissa stirred from his embrace and stood. “Why'd you ask me to come downstairs?”

He grinned sheepishly. “I've forgotten. But it was a good idea, whatever the reason. We'll talk about what happened in the morning. Good night, Carissa.”

She sensed his eyes following her as she mounted the steps. Carissa felt as if she were dancing on clouds, and so intense was her perception of the wonderful thing that had happened to her that later she hardly remembered preparing for bed.

The next thing she knew, her pleasant dreams of Paul were interrupted.

“I tell you they were kissing.”

Lauren's muffled words pierced Carissa's semi-conscious state, and her eyes popped open.

The girls were tiptoeing their way to the bathroom.

“How'd you know?” Julie answered.

They entered the bathroom, but Carissa heard the
rest of the conversation through the partially closed door.

“I got up to come to the bathroom last night. The lights were still on downstairs. I peeked over the rail. They were on the couch huggin' and kissin'. It's the truth—cross my heart.”

“Then that means we might get a daddy as well as a mommy,” Julie said.

The relief and delight in the child's voice stunned Carissa. It took so little to bring hope to the children. And she feared it was a false hope. Regardless of their mutual affection, Paul had made it clear that he would return to work. There had been no mention of love—and she wouldn't marry someone who didn't love her. And now that they were so physically aware of each other, they couldn't continue in their present situation.

Chapter Fourteen

A
t the breakfast table, Lauren and Julie looked from Paul to Carissa and giggled intermittently.

“What's the matter with you girls?” Alex demanded crossly. He seldom awakened in a cheerful mood, and this morning was no exception.

Carissa thought the poor child had little to be cheerful about. For all of his grown-up airs, he
was
only a boy. And it had been a humiliating experience for him to be confronted with his thefts last night.

Paul's eyes sought Carissa's, and she shook her head. She'd have to tell him part of what she'd overheard, she supposed, though she didn't intend to tell him all that Julie had said.

In the few minutes that she had alone with Paul before he took the children to school, Carissa said, “Lauren saw us on the couch last night. She put two and two together and came up with five.”

“I wasn't doing a lot of thinking at that time, but even if I had been, I'd have thought we had some privacy.”

“I'm beginning to wonder if there
is
any privacy with three children in the house.”

“I suppose not! We had to learn the hard way.”

Feeling motherly, Carissa checked to be sure that Julie and Lauren were buttoned up securely against the cold weather. Paul stopped beside her as she stood at the door, and his eyes caressed her.

“Oh, well! Since they know anyway…” He stooped and brushed a gentle kiss on her soft cheek.

Tears misted Carissa's eyes as they drove away.

God,
she prayed,
thank you for giving me this opportunity to
feel.
I didn't think I had any maternal instincts, but I believe I could love these children as my own. And though I'd successfully suppressed all romantic emotions, thanks for allowing me to meet Paul and be awakened emotionally by his caresses. Is it love I feel for him? Am I deluding myself to think that he shares my feelings?

 

As the relationship between Paul and Carissa deepened, Yuletide moved full-speed ahead with its resurrection of the Christmas spirit. For three hours each night, a steady stream of cars passed the house, as people from as far away as New York City came to view the Christmas Fantasy.

The costumes for the progressive nativity were finished and the cast had practiced several times.

The skating show was scheduled for two nights before Christmas on the lake near Yuletide.

Paul didn't comment on his practice sessions, and Carissa was jealous of the time he spent with Jennifer. If he would only mention Jennifer, she wouldn't be so miserable about it. Carissa feared that he had succumbed to Jennifer's charming magnetism again, and he didn't know how to explain it to her.

She needn't have worried.

Now that Paul suspected he was falling in love with Carissa, he wasn't disturbed by Jennifer's ploys. She was a beautiful woman and he enjoyed skating with her again, but Jennifer was cold. Now that he'd uncovered Carissa's softness and compassion, he only had to draw forth her image as a shield between him and Jennifer.

Since the children would be the honored guests in the parade, Carissa and Paul took them into Saratoga Springs to outfit them for the event. Neither one of them had any idea about the clothes children liked, so they permitted the children to choose their own, reminding them that the clothes would be part of their Christmas presents. Obviously, the kids were expecting nothing; their delight in the new garments made it apparent that they'd have been pleased with nothing more. Paul and Carissa had already shopped for the children's other gifts. Remembering her own meager Christmases, and wanting to compensate for the Garners' poverty, Carissa would have liked to lavish gifts on them. She refrained, though, knowing
that too much at one time wouldn't be good for their character.

When they were passing through the adult section of a big-mall store, Lauren paused beside a display of women's dresses. She lifted a maroon evening dress from the rack.

“Look, Alex,” she said. “Wouldn't Mama have looked pretty in this?”

Alex ducked his head. “Don't talk like that,” he said. “We've got to forget her.”

Unaware that she was blocking the walkway, Carissa stopped and took Alex's hand. “Oh, no, Alex,” she said. “Never forget your mother.”

“If I think about her, I'll be crying all the time. I see the pretty clothes you wear and it makes me realize how little she had. I don't ever remember her having a new dress until the preacher's wife bought one for her to be buried in. She couldn't see it then.”

He broke away from Carissa and ran to catch up with Paul, who was walking in front of them, holding Julie's hand. Paul hadn't witnessed the incident that had brought such misery to Carissa's heart.

Carissa's mother hadn't had many new clothes, either. She took the dress from Lauren's hand and hung it back on the rack.

“I miss Mama,” Lauren said, tears forming in her eyes.

Carissa didn't try to stop Lauren's crying because she believed it was best for the child to weep away her sorrow. Besides, tears were welling in her own
eyes. She took the child's hand and hurried to join Paul. She shook her head at the question in his eyes.

When Julie saw that Carissa and Lauren were in tears, she started wailing, and Alex turned away to hide his own sobs.

“What in the world happened?” Paul asked, bewildered, but he stooped to lift Julie with his left arm.

Carissa, blinded by tears, held to his right arm.

“Let's sit down on this bench,” he said, moving out of the flow of mall traffic to a secluded area. Still holding Julie, he put his other arm around Carissa, who held Lauren's hand. Alex knelt in front of Paul, trying to quiet Julie, who didn't even know why the others were crying.

Carissa took a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “I'm sorry,” she said between sniffs. “But Lauren saw a dress that her mother would have liked. Alex couldn't remember his mother ever having a new dress until a neighbor bought one for her burial. That reminded me that my mother didn't have nice things, either. I don't usually lose control, but I'm more vulnerable to my emotions now than I used to be.” Forcing a smile, she said, “I'll be all right.”

Paul felt like a drowning man grasping for a straw. He closed his eyes, praying silently for wisdom—he didn't know how to handle this situation.

God, I'm in over my head, going down for the last time. I need help.

“Looks as if you've got your hands full, sir. Anything I can do to help?”

Paul's eyes popped open, and he knew his face must mirror his astonishment. He glanced up at the tall, angular man standing before them.

“I hope so. The children's mother died a few weeks ago, and something in the store reminded them of her. What should I do?”

“Let them cry. Bottling up grief can be harmful. Tears can wash away a lot of misery. Are you their father?”

Paul shook his head, almost on the point of tears himself. “No, they don't know where their father is. My friend and I are looking after them for a few weeks.”

The man glanced at the packages piled haphazardly around the bench. “Then I'd say you're doing all you can do. They need to know somebody cares for them.” He shook hands with Paul and Carissa, gave each of the children a five-dollar bill and disappeared into the crowd of shoppers.

“He's a nice man,” Julie said, a smile replacing her tears.

Paul prayed.
Thank you, God.

The man hadn't done anything spectacular—nothing that Paul couldn't have done. But Paul needed some sign that what he and Carissa were doing was right, and God had sent His messenger to tell him.

“Is there anything else we need to buy?” he said to Carissa.

She shook her head, and handed Lauren and Julie tissues to wipe their faces.

“Let's have some food and then head for home,” he said, thankful that they'd passed another hurdle in soothing the children's sorrow.

 

Carissa noted that Paul seemed to tolerate the practices with Jennifer, although each day, either by innuendo or by her sinuous movements, she tried to tempt him. She dropped by the house almost every day.

Paul asked Carissa to stay with him any time Jennifer came, and sometimes he wondered if he was afraid to be alone with her. But as long as he kept Jennifer's past actions in mind, and focused on his growing interest in Carissa, Paul felt confident that Jennifer was his past, not his future.

 

Paul put the letter in his pocket and walked out of the post office with foreboding. The message had come from his employer that the work project would resume the first of January, and that he was booked on an overseas flight from Kennedy International Airport, December twenty-seventh. Normally, Paul would have been delighted with the news because he enjoyed his job; he was usually ready to return to work long before the appointed time. But he'd been so busy with Yuletide's celebration, and being with Carissa and the kids, that the days had flown by.

With so little time left, he should go to see his sister, but he didn't want to leave his unofficially adopted family. And when he didn't want to be sep
arated from them for a few days, how would he feel when he boarded the plane, knowing that it would be months before he'd be back in the United States?

Faced with this anxiety, he wasn't sleeping well. He paced around his bedroom in the dark, wondering what he should do. He believed he was in love with Carissa, and judging from his youthful feelings for Jennifer, he knew that his present emotions ran much deeper. His love for Jennifer had been more physical than true affection and admiration. Now he wasn't content unless he was with Carissa. Since their first kiss, he'd kissed her occasionally, and he knew she looked forward to his caresses. She often kissed him with her eyes, if their gazes met when the children were with them.

What would life be like if he married Carissa and became a father to the Garner kids? He'd been on his own for a long time. Could he so drastically change his habits without feeling trapped?

During one of his nocturnal musings, Paul looked out the window, amazed to see a man standing in the shadow of a spruce tree, watching the house. The next morning he checked the area and found many tracks, as if someone had watched the house more than once.

The person, whom he assumed to be a man, returned the following two nights. Paul became concerned enough to talk to Carissa about it. He'd learned that with three kids in the house, there were
no secrets, so he didn't approach Carissa until he returned from taking the children to school.

“For the past three nights, someone has been watching the house,” he said, “and I don't know how long before that.”

At her gasp and startled look, he said, “I didn't want to disturb you about it, but you are a rich woman—do you think it might have something to do with you?”

“Oh, I'm not
that
rich,” she protested. “If I lived twenty years in Florida without anyone having designs on my money, I'm surely safe in Yuletide. Could there be some connection with the children?”

“I've wondered about that,” he admitted unwillingly. He didn't want to believe that the children were in danger. “I'll be out tonight practicing, and I didn't want to leave you alone without warning you.”

“Should we tell Justin?”

“I can't decide. If the guy comes back tonight, I'm going to confront him.”

“Oh, you shouldn't do that. Let Justin handle it.”

“With all the visitors coming to town, Justin and his deputy have their hands full now, but I'll tell him what's going on, and that we'll notify him immediately if we need him. When I come back this evening, I'll put my car in the garage as usual, but instead of coming to the house, I'll stay outside and be on the lookout for our visitor.”

“I don't like it,” Carissa said worriedly. “But I'll
wait up until I hear you drive in. I'll flip the light on in your bedroom, and after about fifteen minutes I'll turn it off. Perhaps the guy will think you've gone to bed.”

“The times I've seen him, he watches from underneath that grove of spruce trees across the road. After you turn off the light, watch from my bedroom window. Or you can see just as much from the window in your bedroom. If I get into trouble, I'll signal you with my flashlight and you can call Justin.”

If Paul was attacked, he might not be able to give a signal, but Carissa didn't point out what must be as obvious to Paul as it was to her. Carissa still wasn't willing to put a name to her feelings for Paul, but she realized that she'd be devastated if anything happened to him.

But while Paul and Carissa were on guard, no one spied on the house that night.

 

After school was dismissed for the holidays, the children were at the house all the time. It was difficult for Paul and Carissa to discuss the situation or for Paul to get much rest. On December twenty-second, the day of the skating exhibition, Carissa took the children shopping to give Paul an opportunity to sleep.

“I'd like to go with you and the children,” he said, “but that skating routine is rigorous and I've been staying up late to watch, because I told Justin I would. I have to catch up today.”

“You might get more sleep in your apartment.”

Carissa wondered if her concern was for Paul's rest, or if she just didn't want Jennifer to come to the house when Paul was alone. He didn't seem to have any affection for Jennifer; in fact, Carissa thought he simply tolerated her, but she was still dubious about Jennifer's motives.

“Good idea. And I'll leave my cell phone over here.”

 

Broad-beamed spotlights highlighted the area of ice where the skating party would take place. Carissa had rented skates for the children and herself so they could participate in the general skating after the program. She'd never been graceful on the ice, although she'd done some ice skating in Minnesota as a child; she didn't think she'd forgotten how. Carrying the skates, the four of them found seats on the bleachers that had been erected along the shore of the lake.

BOOK: The Christmas Children
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