Home For Christmas

The roaring in his ears drowned out most of the rest. He was aware of Nancy handing him her business card, as if he didn’t already have access to her phone number from her loan documents. As if he hadn’t copied it to his desk calendar, toying with the idea of asking her out.

He automatically withdrew a card from his pocket and handed it to her. She mouthed something about calling him later and pulled Ana, kicking and screaming, toward the door.

He was a dead man.

Beau had a vision of God somewhere above, laughing his ass off.

Nancy held Ana’s warm, little frame close to her chest and inhaled the scent of baby shampoo and freshly scrubbed little girl. Her heart did a flip-flop of joy. These were the times to be treasured.

Easing into the antique bentwood rocker, she sighed at the pure luxury of sitting. She pushed gently with her foot.

Ana snuggled close and murmured, “Mama.”

“Yes, sunshine, Mama’s here.”

She continued rocking long after Ana’s eyes had fluttered closed and her breathing slowed. Having a child was a miracle Nancy had given up on long ago.

Sighing, she rolled her neck to work out the kinks. The power struggles and tantrums would ease in a few months. Tatiana would grow out of them, she was sure. Nancy just wished she was half as sure she’d survive her first year of motherhood. Nobody had told her how all-consuming it was. And rewarding. And frustrating. And how she wouldn’t change a minute of it.

She’d joined Parents Flying Solo at the urging of Ana’s pediatrician. After two sleepless nights for both mother and daughter, and one ruptured eardrum for Ana due to an infection, Nancy had surrendered to her doubts. Would she ever get it right?

The kindly doctor had told her there were no right or wrong answers with parenting. Children, even children who weren’t adopted from a foreign country, didn’t come with instruction manuals. With the initial cultural and language barriers and the fact that Nancy was single and had no one to help pick up the slack, she had been severely in danger of burnout. And what would have happened to Tatiana then?

That’s how he’d convinced her to join the support group for single parents. For Ana, not for herself.

But then she’d met Emily and a few other parents and she’d enjoyed talking with people who understood what she was going through. No one seemed to look down on her because she, a single woman, had chosen to adopt a child and now was experiencing the trials that went with it.

It was a much different scenario from some of the people back home in McGuireville, Arkansas. Many of those had made veiled comments about her suitability as a parent. As if having a man in the house would guarantee a bright, normal, carefree childhood for Ana. She’d be willing to bet those narrow-minded folks would feel she deserved to struggle in her new role as a mother.

So how to handle her new parenting buddy? Her concentration had been so focused on getting Ana outside before a full-blown tantrum, she’d barely heard her name and the fact she’d been paired with Beau Stanton. She’d only had time to fling her business card in Beau’s direction, accept his card and leave.

As she placed Ana in her crib, the phone rang.

It was Beau.

His accent brought memories of another man, another place. And a sense of loss so intense she sucked in a breath. No, she couldn’t allow memories of Eric to somehow get tangled up with Beau, urging her to rewrite history by trying to get another restless man to change.

Beau’s words seeped through her distraction. “I’m quitting.”

“You’re dropping out of the group?” Her voice was shrill.

“I’ve given it some thought. I, um, joined the group under false pretenses and it wouldn’t be fair for me to be a buddy to anyone.”

Just as she’d suspected. Beau was a lying, cheating charmer, just like Eric. Her voice was cool when she said, “Oh, and what false pretenses would those be?” A wife at home?

“Um, well, I figured it would be a good way to meet people.”

“There are bars and singles groups for that.”

“No, not that way. Lord, no.” His voice held a convincing note of horror. “It seemed like a good way for the new guy in town to drum up business leads.”

Nancy couldn’t help but chuckle. “If that’s the case, I joined under false pretenses, too. I only went because Ana’s pediatrician suggested it. I did it for Ana, not me. And I have to admit, I always make sure I have plenty of business cards in my purse before I leave for the meeting. Hey, it’s a reality of sales.”

“But you see why it’s not a good idea for us to be buddies?”

The man was giving her an out. So why didn’t she pounce on it? Because she was afraid her unofficial buddy, Emily, might not have as much time for her now that Emily had an official buddy. And that made her feel terribly alone. “I appreciate you being honest with me. The brochure says honesty and trust are the key components to a successful buddy friendship.”

“But it doesn’t say how often we have to talk.” He hesitated. “Maybe we could ease into this whole thing?”

Nancy smiled. She’d had several impressions of Beau and easing into things wasn’t one of them. The man jumped into life without worrying about consequences. “Yes, we can ease into it. We don’t even have to see each other face-to-face except for meetings.”

She could hear the relief in his tone, when he said, “Yeah, that’s right. We just call each other once in a while, no big deal.”

“No big deal.”

Nancy was still smiling after he ended the call. Beau Stanton was afraid of her. The thought lifted her most pressing doubt about him. He wasn’t about to try to seduce her. As a matter of fact, he seemed to prefer not to be anywhere near her.

Shaking her head, she realized her analysis of him remained sound—Beau would definitely be bad news in the romance department. But since she seemed to scare the heck out of the man, it wasn’t a problem.

Nancy led Ana by the hand. “You’ll get to play with the other kids. It’ll be fun.”

They entered the Parents Flying Solo meeting and Ana made a beeline for the toys. As usual, children were everywhere. It was one of the things she liked about the group. Children were always welcome at the meetings. Otherwise, she might have hesitated to take the time away from Ana.

The group was small enough, though, that she could keep an eye on her daughter as she joined some little friends.

“There you are,” Emily said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Curiosity shone in her friend’s eyes. “So dish. How’s your buddy?”

“Beau is fine. We’ve decided to be phone friends.”

“Oh.” Emily sounded disappointed.

“What did you expect? Wedding bells? Fireworks?”

“I was hoping you’d had great sex. Since I don’t get any, I figured I could live vicariously through you.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever trust enough for that kind of intimacy again, so you’d better live vicariously through someone else.”

Emily patted Nancy’s arm. “I have confidence in you. I took a vow of celibacy after Jason was born.” She winked. “And you see how well that worked.”

Jason was Emily’s oldest, followed a year later by Jeremy, with a gap of several years before two little ones stair-stepped behind him.

Nancy frowned. “I mean it though.”

“Ah, yes, the widow in mourning. I know you too well, Nancy McGuire. I know for a fact there’s a part of you that would dance on your husband’s grave.”

Fanning herself with a napkin, Nancy deepened her accent to Gone With the Wind proportions. “Ah’m shocked. Genteel Southern ladies do not dance on their husbands’ graves.” Nancy chuckled. “At least not while anyone’s looking.”

“I’ll second that.”

Nancy turned to see Beau approach. He looked amazing. His smile was wide and infectious, his hair slightly damp from a shower. She inhaled. And he smelled absolutely wonderful. Some sort of subtle aftershave with a hint of danger.

Emily nudged her with her elbow.

Yikes! She’d been caught staring. Emily would never let her hear the end of it. There was absolutely no reason she couldn’t have a good-looking male friend, Nancy reasoned. Shoot, she could pretend he was gay.

Except for the testosterone that seemed to ooze out every pore.

He said, “Family legend has it that my great-aunt Charlene poisoned her husband, and every full moon she tiptoed out to the family cemetery and waltzed on his grave. Or did the Lindy or whatever dance they did.”

Nancy pursed her lips. “And your point is?”

“Great-Aunt Charlene would have been drummed out of polite society if she’d danced on his grave during daylight hours. But at night, well, that was a different matter. My grandpa always said what went on after dark was nobody’s business.”

“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I married into the same family. Your grandfather’s name wasn’t McGuire, was it?”

“Nope. He was a Stanton.”

Nancy waited for the overwhelming sense of betrayal she normally felt when recalling her late husband. When it didn’t come, she murmured, “That’s the first time I’ve been able to laugh about Eric. I do believe you two helped me reach a milestone today.” Raising her plastic cup of soda, she toasted, “To friends.”

Emily smiled. She knew the whole story and undoubtedly realized what an important step this was for Nancy. She raised her cup and touched it to Nancy’s. “To friends.”

They both turned to Beau and waited. He looked like he didn’t feel well. “To friends,” he added weakly. Then he turned and strode from the meeting room.

Emily shrugged. “Must’ve needed some air.”

“Must have.” Nancy thought of following him, but decided against it. When he hadn’t returned ten minutes later, she knew she had to do something. What if he was ill?

After making sure Ana was with Jason, Nancy worked her way to the door. She hoped Emily wouldn’t notice; her vivid imagination would be off and running.

Crisp air and a hint of snow tickled her nose as she went out to the garden. She didn’t see Beau anywhere. But as her eyes adjusted to the dusk, she located him seated on a bench in the butterfly garden.

His shoulders hunched, he was staring off into the forest beyond the property.

Stepping close, she tentatively touched his shoulder. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah.” His voice was husky.

Nancy missed his ready smile. This new, somber Beau was an enigma. “The meeting’s started.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” Yet he appeared welded to the bench.

Nancy sat next to him. It was a small bench, so she clung to the edge.

“Did I say something to offend you?” she asked.

“Offend me?” He glanced up. “No, why’d you get that idea?”

“Because you left so suddenly. I know some people don’t always appreciate my humor.”

“No, I enjoy talking to you. Your sense of humor is a little screwy, but I can handle that.”

“What, then? Something happened. Is it Rachel? Is she in trouble again?”

He sighed heavily. “It seems like Rachel’s always grounded, but this time it had nothing to do with her. All of sudden, I could visualize each of my three ex-wives dancing on my grave.”

Nancy felt her jaw drop open. “Three.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded glumly. “I saw myself through their eyes and it wasn’t pretty.”

Shaking her head to clear it, she contemplated the number of failed marriages Beau had put behind him. Three. In her book, that made him nearly as bad as a bigamist.

Nancy swallowed hard. She’d been there, done that and bought the T-shirt. There was no way in Hades she’d ever get on that merry-go-round again.

Chapter 3

Nancy’s stunned expression did nothing to alleviate Beau’s misery. She might as well have made an L with her thumb and forefinger and pressed it to her forehead in the international sign for Loser.

He liked Nancy. He didn’t want her to think he was some kind of sleazy guy with an inability to commit. Okay, so he had been a sleazy guy with an inability to commit. But that was in the past. “I’ve changed.”

The disbelief in her eyes told him she’d heard that line before.

“Really. I turned over a new leaf when Rachel came to live with me.”

Nancy raised her chin. “It’s none of my business.”

“Yes, it is your business. You’re supposed to be helping me hang on to my sanity while raising Rachel. The buddy brochure says trust is essential. I need you to trust me.”

“I’m the wrong woman for the job, Beau. I’m not nearly as trusting as I used to be.”

Beau’s heart sank at the bitterness in her voice. Someone had hurt her badly. Maybe the way he’d hurt his ex-wives? He rebelled at the idea. Sure, divorce had been difficult each and every time. Well, except for ex-wife number three. They’d gladly parted ways once they’d sobered up enough to realize what they’d done.

But certainly Laurie and Vivian, ex-wives number one and number two, respectively, hadn’t been scarred for life. Had they?

Nancy stood. “Beau, this isn’t going to work.”

Panic propelled him to his feet. “Look, I know I didn’t think this buddy thing would work, but, um, I have to admit you’ve been a lot of help. You understand teenage girls.”

“Nobody understands teenage girls.”

“Yeah, well, you do a hell of a lot better than I do. All the buddies have already been assigned. You’ll leave me high and dry if you quit.”

“Maybe we can trade.”

“I already asked. No trades.”

“You tried to trade me?” She braced her hands on her hips. “Why?”

Beau sighed. Maybe this was one of those times when honesty was the best policy. “No offense, Nancy, but you’re just too damn good-looking. I’ve promised myself no more women. I need to concentrate on Rachel and getting this dad stuff right.”

Nancy’s lips twitched. She threw her head back and laughed aloud.

Beau smiled in response.

But she laughed so long it started to scare him. Had he completely unhinged the woman by being straightforward?

Finally, she wound down to a chuckle, then stopped altogether. “You’re afraid of me because you’ve sworn off women?”

He nodded.

“Oh, that’s too funny. I’m the last woman in the world who’d want to get involved with you, Beau Stanton.”

That hurt. “What’s so bad about me?”

“Come on, Beau, get real. You’ve been married not once, not twice, but three times. You’re a slick-talking, woman-loving, son of a gun with a voice that’d melt stone. I’ve seen your kind before. Shoot, I’ve married your kind before. You’re safe with me, buddy.”

“The husband you, um, wanted to dance on his grave? I remind you of him?”

“Remind me? You could have given Eric lessons. At least you were smart enough to divorce one wife before you married another. Or am I assuming too much?”

Beau didn’t know whether to be fascinated by her disclosure or insulted. “Your husband was a bigamist? Really?”

Nancy sat next to him. “Yes. Really.”

He whistled under his breath. No wonder she didn’t want another man in her life. It was a damn good thing he had no intention of acting on his attraction to her, because he wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell with a woman like Nancy.

Extending his hand, Beau said, “We should be safe as buddies then. Deal?”

She shook his hand. “Deal.”

Nancy squinted at the alarm clock by her bed. It was almost midnight. Her heart raced. She picked up the receiver. “Mom?”

“No, it’s Beau.” He sounded frazzled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Rachel was caught shoplifting.”

She rose, instantly alert. “Is she okay?”

“It’s been a long night. I brought her home about an hour ago. She’s to appear before the judge Monday morning. I’m so wired from coffee, I can’t sleep. And I can’t talk to her because I’m so mad I could wrap my hands around her throat.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I don’t mean that. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. I called her mother. Laurie said Rachel had been rebelling, hanging with the wrong crowd. She hoped the move and having her father around would be a ‘steadying influence.’”

“You didn’t know Rachel was getting into trouble before?”

“Laurie and I don’t talk much. I was so stunned when she dropped off Rachel, I didn’t think to ask.”

“And how about later? After the heat of the moment?”

“I’m, um, not big on long heart-to-heart conversations with my exes.”

“Why am I not surprised? It sounds like you could use someone to talk to tonight, though.” Nancy paused to gather her thoughts. “Ana’s sleeping, so I need to stay home. If you’re comfortable leaving Rachel alone right now, you could come over here.”

“You’re right, I need to talk to a rational adult or I’m going to lose my mind. Rachel’s grounded for life, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to be around me at all tonight. I’ll tell her where I’ll be. She’s got my cell number if she needs me.”

“I’ll have some nice, relaxing herbal tea ready when you get here.”

“Herbal tea? Don’t you have anything stronger?”

“Nope. Take it or leave it.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m desperate. I’ll take it. Your house is on Evergreen, right?”

“Yes.” She gave him the house number and hung up the phone.

Glancing down at her skimpy tank top and flannel boxers, she dashed to the closet and removed a baggy pair of sweatpants and an old sweatshirt of Eric’s. Why she’d kept it, she didn’t know. Maybe because Eric had been such an important part of her life since high school. It still seemed odd at times, knowing she’d never talk to him again.

Nancy pushed the unsettling thought away and headed to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and ran a brush through her hair.

The doorbell rang just as she finished.

She took the stairs two at a time and opened the door. “You must’ve broken a few speed limits to get here this quick.”

Beau shrugged. “Probably.”

“You look like hell. Come on in.”

“Thanks. That NASCAR sweatshirt of yours is really attractive, too.”

Her face warmed. “What were you expecting, a lace teddy?”

There was an evil glint in his eyes. “Now that might just distract me from my problems.”

“Dream on, buddy. Park your butt at the breakfast bar while I get the kettle going.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After she filled the kettle and set it on the stove, she studied him. He had bags under his eyes, a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Out with it. The whole story.”

“I wish I knew the whole story. That’s part of the problem. Rachel won’t talk to me. All I know is she went to the mall with her friends and then the police called to say she’d been caught shoplifting.”

“In your limited conversations with your ex, did she say Rachel has shoplifted before?”

He nodded. “Once. Right before she came to live with me. So what sage advice do you have for me, buddy?”

“Ah, grasshopper, when you can snatch the pebble from my hand, you still won’t have a clue about teenage girls.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. What do I do besides ground her? Send her to a convent?”

“Hmm. If you want grandchildren someday, the convent’s out.”

Beau groaned, placing his hand over his eyes. He peered out at her between his fingers. “Don’t remind me. She could end up pregnant if I don’t get her back on the right path.”

“Um, I think you took a gigantic leap there, Beau. A lot of girls shoplift. I’m not saying it’s okay, I’m just saying sometimes it’s a rite of passage.”

“Did you ever shoplift?”

Nancy nodded. “Yep. Makeup. I ended up grounded for a week. What did Rachel steal?”

“Earrings. The stupid part is that she doesn’t even have pierced ears. I won’t let her mutilate her body like that.”

“Hmm. Do you think she was making a statement of sorts?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Let me get my ears pierced or I’ll turn to a life of crime?”

“Something like that. Kids can be pretty manipulative.”

“How come you’re so smart about this stuff with Rachel? But then with Ana, you don’t seem to have a clue?”

“I remember being a teen, what I did, how I felt. I can’t remember being a toddler. They’re completely foreign creatures.”

“Exactly how I feel about Rachel. Do you think maybe it’s just our own kids we don’t understand?”

The kettle sputtered. Nancy removed a couple of mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the counter. She poured chamomile tea, added a dollop of honey and handed a cup to Beau.

Sipping her tea, she pondered his theory. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe all parents are baffled by their children. And some are just better at hiding it than others.”

“I figured it was because I was so new at it.”

“You and me both. Didn’t you have visitation while Rachel was growing up?”

Beau flushed and avoided her eyes. “Yeah, um, I did. But I was on the road a lot. I never forgot a birthday or special occasion.” His expression brightened. “And I took her on some scouting father/daughter camping trip.”

“You were the fun parent. Now you’re the mean parent. I imagine that’s a hard transition.”

“I’m not mean.”

“No, you’re just a concerned father, trying to do the right thing. But to Rachel, it probably seems mean. And maybe a little confusing. She’d lived with her mom all that time and then bam, she’s living with a father she barely knows.”

“I guess you’ve got a point.” His voice was glum. “I’d rather be the fun parent.”

“Rachel’s been with you how long?”

“Three months.”

“If she weren’t there every day, for some reason, would you miss her?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Now that you’ve been the mean parent, do you think it would be worth it not to see her every day, even if you got to be the fun parent again? Would it be hard to stay away?”

“Yeah. I’ve gotten used to having her around. At least when the police aren’t calling to say she’s gotten into trouble.”

“Mama?” Ana stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her feet poking out from beneath her little flannel nightgown.

Nancy scooped her up. “I’m here, baby. What’s wrong.”

Ana pointed at Beau, her eyes wide. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing men at the house in the middle of the night and Nancy wanted to keep it that way.

“This is Beau. He’s Mommy’s friend. He came over for tea because he was sad.”

Ana nodded.

“Now, let me take you back up to bed.”

Beau watched Nancy’s expression soften when she looked at her daughter. The love shining in her eyes was enough to make a man want to lay down his life for her. He resisted the urge to follow her up the stairs and watch her tuck in her daughter.

Raising his mug, he took a big swallow and sputtered. He didn’t care what anyone said, chamomile tea sucked, big time.

Restless despite his fatigue, Beau wandered around the room. Nancy’s kitchen was large, one wall exposed red brick. Copper pots and pans hung from the ceiling. The professional-size stove led him to believe she liked to cook. Good, he liked to eat.

Heading into the family room, he admired the feeling of warmth and safety she’d created. The oversize couch and love seat were made of soft, dark-brown fabric. Throw pillows in solid red, purple and blue reminded him of Nancy—bright and fun, yet sensual.

Uh-oh. He looked at family-room furniture and thought sensual. Next he’d be wondering what Nancy’s bedroom looked like. No sooner had the suggestion risen than his imagination was off and running. He’d bet his bottom dollar Nancy had an antique four-poster canopy bed with a white eyelet comforter so dense you could get lost in it.

Redirecting his thoughts, he stopped in front of an oak sideboard, where family pictures were lovingly arranged. At least he assumed it was family, because the majority of the photos were of Nancy and Ana. One had been taken in a drab, old-fashioned room, with a stern-looking woman holding Ana. Then there was a photo of Nancy with an older version of herself, probably her mother. The woman’s eyes held a lingering sadness.