Baby Under The Mistletoe

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JULIA DELETED everything she’d just written. Nothing sounded right.

The main problem was, this wasn’t a matter she should have been handling via e-mail. And the other problem was, she was terrified to call Frank Fiorelli again.

She tried again.

Dear Frank,

I’m so sorry to have ignored your calls and e-mail.

I had a family emergency, and-

No, too stilted.

She ought to pick up the phone and call. Or maybe go to see him.

But it was the day before Christmas Eve, and she didn’t know his address. She knew where his studio was, but would he be there today?

She had to try. If he wasn’t there, at least she could leave a handwritten note to tell him she’d stopped by, which was better than an impersonal e-mail. Yes, that’s what she’d do.

Julia jumped up from her desk chair. If she hurried, she could make it to Guerneville by four o’clock. Then maybe, if Frank wasn’t at his studio, she’d call him and let him know she was in town, see if he wanted to meet for a drink.

Her stomach knotted as she hurried to the bathroom to check herself in the mirror.

Same silver-blond bob as always, same brown eyes. She added a bit of lipstick, and her face instantly brightened. Then she grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

An hour later, she was parked in front of Frank’s gallery. A light was on in the upstairs studio, she could see from the street, and her hour-long case of butterflies became twice as intense.

During the whole car ride, she’d told herself he wasn’t going to be there, and yet…

The light was on.

The gallery was open, and she could see through the window that Frank’s daughter was busy helping a customer. A handful of other customers milled about the space, creating a welcome diversion for Julia to walk in and go straight up to the studio without having to explain her rudeness.

She made it through the gallery without being spotted, and she climbed the stairs to the sound of someone hammering in the room above.

When she reached the landing, she saw Frank wearing a pair of work goggles, poised over a table, nailing one piece of wood to another.

“Hello?” she called.

Frank looked up, clearly surprised at the interruption.

When his gaze landed on her, she expected to see annoyance, maybe even anger, but all she saw was confusion, and then…A tentative smile.

“Julia? What a surprise. What brings you here?”

She could feel herself blush. “I owe you an apology,” she said.

He put down the hammer, took off his goggles and rounded the table.

Julia took a tentative step forward, and Frank closed the distance between them.

“What happened?” he said, not unkindly. “I was worried you’d decided I was a pervert or an ax murderer.”

“Oh, no!” she said, appalled all the more. “It wasn’t you at all.”

“Then what? I was really hoping to see you again. I’m glad you’re here, in fact.” He smiled gently, and Julia got her first inkling that everything really was going to be okay.

“I was hoping I could explain everything over dinner,” she said. “My treat.”

Frank’s expression transformed into a frown, and her stomach twisted up. Oh, dear. She’d been too forward.

“Call me old-fashioned,” he said, “but I never have gotten used to a lady paying for dinner. At least not the first few times around. But we can work that out later. I know a nice little Italian place around the corner.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I hope I’m not interrupting your work.”

He waved a hand toward the table dismissively. “You’re rescuing me from another evening of utter frustration,” he said. “I haven’t done a single good thing since you disappeared on me. Typical self-centered artist-I nearly managed to convince myself you vanished because you hated my art so much.”

He laughed, and Julia melted.

“I love your work,” she insisted. “It’s actually a little early for dinner. Would you like to have a drink first?”

“Absolutely,” he said, but before she could turn and head for the stairs, he took her hand in his.

He clasped it between both his hands, and he gave her one of those smiles that started in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.

Julia smiled back. “Me, too.”

SOLEIL HADN’T WANTED to spend Christmas Eve alone. But when the invitations had come from friends, and even Julia, to have dinner with them, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes, either.

She didn’t have the energy to go out and face people and pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. And her mother had made plans with old friends for the evening.

So Soleil would stay home, maybe watch a movie or read a book, and contemplate her last Christmas without a child. From now on, the holiday would be a big production, and she tried to tell herself she was savoring the freedom to do nothing this one last Christmas Eve.

She had just turned on the Christmas-tree lights when she heard a vehicle coming up the driveway. Past the tree, she could see West’s car in the distance, and the tiny knot of dread that had been growing inside her all day transformed in that instant into something that felt like hope.

No, not hope.

Joy.

No, not joy.

Love.

It didn’t matter why he was coming now-to deliver a gift for the baby or tell her he was leaving or berate her for being a fool for not being willing to move to Colorado. There was one thing she had to tell him, consequences be damned.

She ran to the door and left it open as she bounced across the porch and down the gravel road toward the car. He stopped when she neared, stuck his head out the window and peered at her, looking confused.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, no, everything’s not okay.”

He turned off the car and got out, staring at her belly as if it might hold some answer.

She took him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I love you, West.”

“What?”

She’d never seen him look so stunned-and she’d had some pretty stunning news lately.

“I. Love. You.”

“Does that mean-”

“No, it doesn’t mean I’ll come to Colorado.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“I love you, and I don’t know what to do about it. I can’t ask you to give up your career any more than I can give up my life here.”

He smiled, still looking a little stunned, a little confused.

“You could move here,” she said. “Help me run the farm. I could expand the program if I had you helping. We could help take care of your father if you were here.”

He laughed. “You just took the words out of my mouth.”

“Marry me,” she said.

“That’s supposed to be my line,” he answered, taking a small black velvet box from his pocket. “And this belonged to my mother.”

He opened the box, revealing a gold ring.

“Is that a yes?” she asked, her voice nearly catching in her throat.

Could this really be happening? Had he just said he’d move here?

“Of course it is. You’re the only woman I ever want to love. Aside from our daughter, of course.”

“But…the Air Force. What will you do?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll retire early. My life is here now, with you and the baby. Ever since I saw that ultrasound, there’s been a little voice in the back of my head whispering to me what I need to do.”

Soleil looked down the winding gravel road that led away from the farm, and that had brought West back to her-that had brought him home.

“You belong here, too,” she said. “Just like I do.”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

And when he kissed her, she knew without a doubt it was true. He belonged here.

With her, loving her, for life.