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The list grew quickly, but after a while she had to stop to think about it. As she did, her gaze drifted around her cozy living room and ultimately fell on a black-bound notebook tucked into a small bookcase along with several dozen books, all of which she had purchased and read since coming to Rocky Ford. Her thoughts immediately turned from her grocery list to the contents of that notebook. Everything she knew about the Fanon family was in it, including handwritten notes describing her own observations and every newspaper article mentioning the Fanons she had run across in the Rocky Ford News, which she had neatly clipped and pasted on various pages. Her last entry was a newspaper accounting of Candace Fanon and Burke Mallory’s wedding. Burke had invited her to attend the affair, and she had wanted to go very badly. But she’d stayed away, knowing how uncomfortable she would be with Burke aware of her lurking in corners and spying on the Fanons, as she had done on several previous occasions when she’d been able to hide in a crowd. Then, however, no one had known who she was.
That notebook disturbed her, blatantly reminding her that she was on the outside looking in, yet she couldn’t get rid of it. It was the most detailed documentation of any portion of her life, and destroying it would be like destroying a piece of herself.
Sighing with a profound sense of unrest, she forced herself to concentrate on Christmas dinner again.
For someone who had initially tried to ignore the holiday season, Andrea became very involved in it. Happy about it, too. She shopped for Lucas’s present in Rocky Ford’s stores, and enjoyed seeing the decorations the town had put up. Several businesses had outside speakers playing Christmas music, and every window in every shop was bright with holiday displays.
On impulse, she went into the drugstore and spent an hour picking out Christmas cards to send to the friends she had left behind in California. Leaving without a goodbye hadn’t bothered her at the time; her mind had been overloaded with grief over her mother’s death and the shocks that had come after. But, in retrospect, her hasty, unannounced departure seemed terribly rude, particularly so with the man she had been dating, Hale Jackson. Not that theirs had been a serious relationship. Hale was an aspiring actor, as vain as they came and too involved in his career to give any woman top billing. But he knew a lot of people and had been fun to go out with. She picked out an especially nice card for Hale. She also bought a load of decorations for the tree she planned to purchase when she was finished with her other shopping.
It surprised Andrea to walk past the Men’s Western Wear store a few minutes later and see a sign in the window among a nativity scene and various Christmas decorations. It said, in bold print, Under New Management.
Lola Sheridan, Charlie’s niece, must have sold her store, Andrea thought with a small frown. The Fanons managed to always stay one step ahead of her, forever altering or changing their status in some way. Those changes shouldn’t disturb her peace of mind, but they did. The Fanons seemed to be a close-knit family, and maybe that was why she couldn’t bring herself to barge in and boldly pronounce herself to be one of them.
Of course, she’d known nothing of Charlie’s family when she first got to town, and she’d done no bold announcing then, either. The truth, bitter as it was to accept, was that she was a spineless wimp when it came to Charlie. And it hurt because she wanted to meet the father she’d never known so much she ached from it. She wanted him to open his heart to her, to welcome her into the family.
But would he?
Swallowing the sudden lump in her throat, she hurried on past the Men’s Western Wear store, returned to her car parked down the street and got in.
But she wouldn’t let herself rush home to lick her wounds, as she had done so many times in the past months. Rather, she bravely lifted her chin and drove to the vacant lot on which someone was selling Christmas trees.
The area had gone through several thaws and snowfalls since that first storm, and Andrea’s yard was patchy with old snow and bare ground. It pleased her to see softly falling snow on Christmas Day.
By noon, she had everything well under control for a oneo’clock dinner. She had told Lucas they would eat early, watch old movies on TV, which she knew he liked, then have turkey sandwiches and leftovers for supper. Lucas had seemed thrilled with her plans, and she expected him to come knocking on her door at any minute.
She had dressed festively for the day, choosing a striking dress and high-heeled pumps in the same emerald green color and gold jewelry. Anytime she wore green, her eyes appeared more green than gray, and the color also brought out the red in her dark auburn hair. Feeling good because she looked good and was going to have company for dinner, she puttered in the kitchen with an ear cocked for Lucas’s arrival.
When the phone rang at twelve-fifteen, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Rarely did her phone ring. Other than Lucas, no one in Rocky Ford had her unlisted number. But why would he be calling today? “Maybe it’s one of those bothersome salespeople,” she muttered under her breath as she walked over to the kitchen extension and picked it up with a cool, unapproachable “Hello?”
“Andrea, this is Lucas. Um…something’s come up.” Lucas uttered what sounded like a nervous laugh to Andrea, and her heart sank. Surely he wasn’t going to tell her that he wasn’t coming. The house was permeated with good smells from the turkey roasting in the oven and the other dishes she had prepared, the tree had turned out so pretty with its twinkling lights and tinsel, and she was so emotionally ready for a genuine Christmas celebration that disappointment was already digging its claws into her.
“Is something wrong, Lucas?” She tried to speak normally, but she was so afraid he was going to cancel coming to dinner that she sounded forlorn. Wincing at her childishness, she added in a stronger voice, “What came up, Lucas? Are you all right?”
“Heck, it’s not me, honey. It’s Shep.”
Shep? Who or what was a Shep? “I don’t understand, Lucas.”
“Shep, Andrea, my son. He got here about thirty minutes ago. We’ve been unloading his car ever since. Mighty fine surprise it was to open my door and see him standing there. But…well, I’m a mite confused about the day now. I mean, you’re expecting one guest and—”
Andrea broke in. An enormous sense of relief made her sound breathless. “Lucas, I have enough food prepared for ten people. By all means, bring your son with you.”
“You’re a sweet lady, Andrea. That’s what I was hoping you’d say, and I was pretty sure you would, too. What I’m not sure of is if Shep will agree to go with me. I’m calling from my bedroom while he’s doing some unpacking. Had his car loaded to the roof. Must have brought every stitch he owns. You see, he’s here without his wife. Ex-wife, I should say.” Lucas’s voice had taken on a saddened note. “They’re divorced, Andrea, and Shep’s not very happy about it.”
“Oh, dear,” Andrea murmured sympathetically. “It happened awfully fast, didn’t it?”
“Apparently not. Shep just never said anything to me about their troubles when we talked on the phone. I thought everything was great with them. I still don’t know what really took place, but as I said, he’s only been here about a half hour. Anyhow, you’re sure it’s okay to bring him along?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’ll put another place setting on the table, Lucas. Do your best to convince Shep to come, and I’ll do my best to make him feel welcome.”
“Thanks, Andrea. You’re a peach.”
She put down the phone, realizing that Lucas had not said he would come even if Shep wouldn’t. With a helpless sensation, she looked around her small but efficient kitchen. The house had come furnished, but she had added her own pretty touches to it, making it hers. Today the counter was loaded with food, and so was the refrigerator. Telling Lucas that she had enough to feed ten people had been only a slight exaggeration. Easily she could feed six or seven.
And if Lucas didn’t come and help her eat some of it…?
Resentment for a man she’d never met suddenly assailed her. It was only natural for Lucas to be thrilled to see his son, but Dr. Shepler Wilde just showing up on his father’s doorstep on Christmas Day with no warning whatsoever seemed darned inconsiderate to her. Would it have killed him to stop at some point in his journey north to call his father? For that matter, since his marital troubles weren’t all that sudden, he could have informed Lucas weeks ago of his situation, and that he was coming home for Christmas.
He was probably exactly the kind of man she’d thought of before—an arrogant, self-centered jerk. And with a wonderful man like Lucas for a father, too. Andrea’s lips thinned in potent disapproval. She had desperately yearned for her own father for as long as she could remember, and Shep Wilde treated his like dirt. Life certainly wasn’t fair.
Well, she had no choice but to finish making dinner. There were potatoes to mash and gravy to make. If Lucas came, wonderful. If he didn’t…?
“Merry Christmas,” she mumbled as she set to work while battling a surge of self-pity. She wallowed in it for a few minutes, then cast it aside. She wouldn’t die from eating alone, and she could watch her movies alone, as well. Maybe she’d take a walk in the snow after dinner. It was coming down in huge, fluffy flakes, once again turning her yard into a wintry fairyland.
Determinedly she marched into the living room and inserted a disk into her CD player, a gift she had bought for herself. Christmas music wafted from the speakers, and she adjusted the volume so she could hear it in the kitchen. Then she returned to her cooking.
Such was life, she thought with a sigh as she stirred the gravy. Rather, such was her life, she amended in the next breath. After all, if she wasn’t such a flaming coward, she might be spending Christmas with Charlie and the rest of the Fanons.
Maybe she deserved to eat alone.
Intent on her own thoughts, she was startled to hear someone knocking on the back door. “Lucas,” she said with instantaneous relief and excitement. He had come, after all. Whether his son was with him or not was immaterial. Lucas was here, and that was all that mattered.
Hurrying to the door, she pulled it open. It was Lucas, all right, and he wasn’t alone. Standing just a little behind was the most handsome man Andrea had ever seen. As tall as his father, Dr. Shepler Wilde was lean where Lucas was heavy. His hair was thick and black and stunningly attractive with snowflakes in it. She assessed him quickly. Wide shoulders in a black leather jacket. Long legs in faded jeans. A white turtleneck sweater. Naturally dark-toned skin. A chiseled, sexy mouth. A strong chin and high cheekbones. Brooding, dark eyes.
She swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling giddy as a schoolgirl. “Come in before you turn into snowmen.” Stepping back, she held the door open for them to enter.
Lucas was beaming proudly. “Andrea, this is my son, Dr. Shepler Wilde. Shep, Miss Andrea Dillon.”
Andrea offered her hand. “Very nice meeting you.”
Shep’s hand around hers gave her an unexpected jolt. “Nice of you to have me over,” he said without so much as a hint of a smile.
His coolness was so unexpected, Andrea flushed. Swiftly she withdrew her hand from his. “Give me your jackets, and I’ll hang them in the closet.”
Both men removed their jackets and handed them to her. “Come on into the living room, Lucas,” she said, heading in that direction herself to hang the jackets in the small guest closet near the front door.
“Your tree is beautiful,” Lucas said. “Isn’t it nice, Shep?”
“Very nice,” Shep agreed.
Closing the door of the closet, Andrea turned to her guests. “Please sit down. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Just make yourself comfortable while I finish up.” She had dinner wine chilling in the refrigerator, but no other spirits in the house. If Dr. Wilde enjoyed a beforedinner drink, she had nothing to offer him. He would have to content himself with a comfortable chair, a view of the tree and the lovely music on the CD player.
Smiling weakly, she hurriedly returned to the kitchen. Her heart was pounding. Good Lord, she thought, disgusted that she would be so physically affected just from meeting a man. Especially when he hadn’t shown any signs of the same affliction with her.
But he was newly divorced and unhappy about it. What kind of person would he be if he could forget that sort of pain in the space of two minutes just because another woman had entered his life?
Placing her hands on the edge of the counter, she let her head drop forward. This was ridiculous. She had to calm her racing pulse and behave like an intelligent human being.
But no man she’d ever met had done to her what Shep Wilde had just from a handshake. She’d felt electricity throughout her entire body during those few seconds, and it wasn’t disappearing as quickly as she would like it to. As she lifted her head to stare out at the falling snow, her eyes narrowed slightly. How could she have felt so much without him feeling something, too?
Oh, Lord, that was all she needed right now, to fall for a guy who viewed her as all but invisible.
Shaking her head, she began mashing potatoes.
Two (#ulink_99fe1edd-0c90-5626-b051-64351690b2fd)
Lucas couldn’t compliment her enough during dinner. Andrea thanked him nicely and pretended that everything she cooked turned out so well. In truth, she had barely known how to boil water when she arrived in Rocky Ford. Teaching herself to cook had been one of the activities she’d used to pass time while she waited for the right moment to approach Charlie. Lucas had eaten with her before, and her first efforts at putting a full meal on the table hadn’t been all that great.
But he was a man with an appetite and had seemed to like whatever she’d served him. Today even she thought dinner was delicious. The turkey was moist, the gravy rich and smooth, and the side dishes perfect complements to the meat. Dessert was pumpkin or apple pie, but both Lucas and Shep declined when she offered it, declaring they were too full to eat another bite.
She believed Lucas wholeheartedly. He had filled his plate twice and had appeared to enjoy every mouthful. Shep, however, had eaten very little. He’d taken small portions and eaten them slowly, as though there was no hunger anywhere in his system and he was merely being polite.
“We’ll have dessert later,” Andrea said with more cheeriness than she felt. Shep Wilde had had her sitting on the edge of her chair throughout the meal, although he had certainly done or said nothing to cause such an unusual reaction. Lucas had chattered away a mile a minute, talking about the weather, Shep’s long drive from California and Andrea’s good cooking, and she had tried her level best to keep the conversational ball rolling. But even Shep’s voice affected her—the few times he’d spoken during the meal…and looking directly into his dark eyes actually gave her goose bumps.
The two men were waiting for her direction, she realized. Rising, she smiled. “Why don’t you make yourselves comfortable in the living room while I put away the food? I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Lucas pushed back his chair. “I’m going to help with these dishes, young woman. And don’t try to argue me out of it. Shep, you go on into the living room and relax. Andrea and I will have everything shipshape in ten minutes.”
Shep looked at Andrea standing there, awaiting her guests’ decisions with an anticipatory expression, and felt a stirring in his groin. He’d felt the same thing the minute he’d set eyes on this woman and, in fact, all during the fine meal she had put on the table. When Lucas told him that he’d called the lady next door, and that she had said to bring him along to dinner, he had immediately gotten a mental picture of an older woman, someone around his father’s age. He’d only agreed to come because Lucas had been so insistent. It had been a long time since he’d seen his father, and it was Christmas. Otherwise, he would have refused. His mood wasn’t one for meeting new people, even his father’s friends.
Then the door to Andrea’s house had opened, and he’d felt that zap of awareness. Miss Andrea Dillon was young, beautiful, stunningly dressed and as sexy as any woman he’d ever seen. In fact, she was probably sexier, because sex was what he’d thought of all during dinner. Not that he’d arrived in Rocky Ford with any silly ideas about sex and women. Lord preserve him from another heartrending relationship. Natalie’s desertion had all but destroyed him, and the last thing he wanted was another woman. In truth, he had wondered if he would ever want another woman.
But here was fate, or something, causing his traitorous body to respond to the first attractive woman he’d met in ages. It really was too much, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to do anything about his ludicrous physical reactions to the sensuous Miss Dillon. It made him angry that he couldn’t seem to eradicate those reactions, but he wasn’t blaming Andrea and the anger was aimed at himself. After all, she couldn’t help being beautiful, sultry and sexually intriguing. Nor was it her fault that his hormones were raging as though he were an adolescent ogling his first unclothed female breast.
Drawing in a long breath, he nodded and headed for the living room. Andrea left to help his father with the dishes.
In the living room, Shep sat in an easy chair from which he could look out the front window at the lazily falling snow. It was a pretty sight, but the Christmas music on the CD player was emotionally wrenching. Thoughts of the past few months deluged him: learning by accident that Natalie was seeing another man; confronting her with expectations of denial and hearing instead, “I want a divorce”; then the arguments; the pleas on his part; Natalie’s rock-solid determination; his last-ditch effort to win her back by willingly signing a property settlement giving her everything she asked for; her departure for Mexico to get it over with quickly; and finally the day she returned home with divorce papers and told him to pack his personal possessions and get out of her house.
There was no hope left; it was truly over. He had moved into a hotel and tried to resume his life. But most of his patients were rich, spoiled people who spent a great deal of their time fighting old age, and he had found himself canceling appointments. The reason for his successful practice was a bitter pill to swallow. Natalie’s father was a major producer in the movie industry. He had sent stars, directors and everyone else he knew that wanted a new nose, tummy tuck or some sort of surgical procedure, to Shep’s office.
Shep had dreamed of a much different practice before meeting Natalie while he was still interning. He had wanted to limit his vocation to accident victims or people born with congenital defects, people who truly needed reconstructive surgery.
But he’d let himself be dazzled by the life-styles of the rich and famous, and had opened a fancy office in a fancy building and had started making incredible amounts of money from breast implants and face-lifts. For a man from a small town in Montana, it had all seemed like a dream-a gorgeous wife, famous friends and more money than he could spend.
It wasn’t more than Natalie could spend, however. The truth was that he had worked his fanny off, having become addicted to those astonishing fees. But no matter how much money he put in the bank, it had a way of disappearing. With what Natalie had received in the divorce settlement, he found himself close to being broke. Disillusioned, unhappy with his work and broke. Yes, he could have geared up and built up his bank account. But nothing had held much meaning anymore.
A week ago he’d parceled out his remaining patients to other doctors, closed his fancy office, packed his car and headed for Montana. Not to burden Lucas with his personal problems, God forbid, but to give himself some breathing space. And maybe to find himself again, to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.
Staring almost hypnotically at the falling snow, he felt the emptiness within himself, the lack of purpose and ambition and the strangest urge to do nothing but watch snow fall or something equally mundane from this day forward. What had working hard gotten him? Why exert so much effort when this was the result?
He could hear Andrea and his father in the kitchen, moving about, talking to each other and laughing every so often. With a wall between him and Andrea, he could think of her as just another person. During dinner, he had not had that luxury. Her every movement had impacted his libido. Her eyes were especially beautiful, heavily lashed and that striking shade of green, and he doubted if her face and figure had ever been altered by a surgeon.
But there was something about her that didn’t ring a hundred percent true. Take that comment Lucas had made about her being from California, for instance. Shep hadn’t been contributing much to the conversation and had been feeling a little guilty about it—after all, he was a stranger she’d invited into her home and deserved some courtesy no matter how down in the dumps he felt—so he had pursued the topic his father had introduced. “What part of California?” he had asked Andrea. His eyes narrowed as he remembered how cleverly she had evaded a straight answer. And how she had immediately changed the subject.
Now, why would she avoid an innocuous discussion of her life before moving to Rocky Ford? And what had brought her to Montana in the first place? Did she have family here? If so, why wasn’t she spending Christmas with them?
Yes indeed, there was something a little off kilter about Miss Dillon.
Shep sighed. Hell, she could have a scandalous or even a criminal past, and he wouldn’t care.
He suddenly couldn’t sit there any longer. Rising, he went to the closet for his jacket and put it on. Taking a pair of leather gloves from a pocket, he began working them onto his hands as he entered the kitchen.
“I’m going for a walk,” he announced.
Andrea was loading the dishwasher, and Lucas was putting a covered dish into the refrigerator. They both became statue still and looked at him.
“Uh…sure,” Lucas finally said. “Enjoy yourself, son.”
“We’ll have dessert and coffee when you get back,” Andrea said.
He wanted to tell her not to wait for him, that he didn’t know when he’d be back or even if he’d return to her house at all.
But he only nodded and walked out the back door.
Andrea and Lucas looked at each other. “He really is very unhappy, isn’t he?” she said quietly.
“I’m afraid he is,” Lucas said, sounding deeply concerned.
“Lucas, if you want to go after him, please don’t feel as though you need to keep me company.”
Lucas placed the dish in his hand on a refrigerator shelf and closed the door. “I think he wants to be alone, Andrea. He’ll talk to me when he’s ready.”
“Well…I guess you know your own son.”
“I used to,” Lucas said in a saddened tone of voice.
Andrea began wiping down the counter. “He came to you, Lucas. In his time of trouble, he came home. That has to mean something.”
Lucas’s countenance brightened a little. “Yes, he did, didn’t he?”
Andrea looked out the window above the sink. “It’s snowing harder. Oh, it’s lovely.” But it was also freezing cold out there, and she couldn’t help worrying about Shep Wilde walking around in such weather in an unhappy daze.
But he was a grown man and none of her business.
Briskly she turned to Lucas. “Everything’s in order in here. Thank you very much for the help. Now, shall we retire to the living room? I’ll build a fire in the fireplace, and we can either watch a movie or just sit and relax until Shep gets back.”
They started for the living room. “How about if I build the fire and you pick out a movie?” Lucas said.
Andrea smiled. “If that’s what you want, sure. What’ll it be, a Western, a mystery or a romantic comedy?” She opened the cabinet that contained her collection of movies.
Lucas was already bending over to lay a fire. “Anything you choose is fine with me.”
Andrea sighed inwardly. Lucas didn’t care what movie she put in the VCR because of Shep out walking in the cold and snow.
Well, wasn’t that where her mind would be, as well?
Today was not turning out at all the way she’d planned. But had any Christmas of her life been storybook perfect? Sighing again, she grabbed a movie without checking its title and inserted it in the VCR.
The best part of the next few hours was the fire crackling in the fireplace. Andrea didn’t even attempt to concentrate on the movie, and twenty minutes into the film, Lucas was dozing. She looked at him with great affection. Men were such strange creatures. As worried as Lucas was about his son, he could still fall asleep in front of the TV.
