Make-Believe Mistletoe

Chapter Ten

The afternoon wasn't going exactly as Lucy might have hoped. Banner was more distant now than he had been before their latest kiss. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. This seemed to be a classic panicky-male retreat, the behavior of a man who had gotten closer to someone than he had intended.

If she looked at it that way, it was almost a compliment, she mused.

Of course, it was just as likely that Banner regretted what had developed between them and was now trying to think of an excuse to send her on her way as gently as possible.

Because that possibility depressed her, she decided she would stick with the first explanation. She wanted to believe he was starting to care for her, but he was afraid of his feelings. Knowing his family background, and considering his broken marriage, it was an entirely credible possibility, she assured herself.

Lucy still believed Banner belonged at the top of her prospect list. Now it was just a matter of convincing him.

She was sitting in front of the fire, rubbing the dog's ears, when Banner rejoined her after his conversation with his mother. She studied his face from beneath her eyelashes, trying to guess how the call had gone. She found no clue in his expression, which was absolutely emotionless.

He looked at her for a moment, then managed a faint, polite smile that didn't soften his face in the least. “Looks like you've made a friend for life.”

His dog was sprawled beside her, eyes closed in ecstasy as she rubbed the sensitive areas behind his ears. Had he been a cat, he would have been purring. As it was, he gave an occasional groan of pleasure. “He's a very sweet dog. I can see why you love him.”

Banner's smile faded. He shrugged, apparently trying for the appearance of nonchalance. “He's okay-for a dog.”

He wouldn't even admit that he loved his pet, Lucy thought with a ripple of sadness. Would he-or could he-ever admit that he loved anyone else?

Determined to get him talking again, Lucy plugged on. “You spoke to your mother?”

“Yes.”

“She and the rest of your family are well, I hope. Enjoying their holiday.”

“Apparently.”

“I'm sure she appreciated your call.”

“I guess.”

Lucy was getting frustrated-and a bit annoyed. Banner knew how to carry on a conversation. He was just being stubborn.

What, exactly, was he trying to prove?

When he did finally speak, his words weren't exactly encouraging. “You really should get on the road. The pavement could get slippery again when the temperatures drop after dark.”

Giving Hulk one last pat, Lucy rose. “You seem in a hurry to see me off.”

“It isn't that. But I know your family is anxious for you to join them. And you do want to see them, don't you?”

She did, actually. It was Christmas, after all, and Christmas was meant to be spent with family. It had been several months since she had last seen her father, and she knew he was impatient for her to arrive. But it was still harder than she might have imagined to leave Banner.

How could she have imagined two days ago when she'd set off on her drive to her aunt's house that she would fall hard for a stranger on the way? Because whatever this was that had developed between her and Banner, it was much more than a fleeting infatuation, at least on her part.

“Why don't you come with me?” she asked on a sudden rush of inspiration. “I hate to leave you here with no electricity. My family would welcome you. Aunt Janie's a fabulous cook, and my cousins are always fun.”

Banner was shaking his head before she'd even finished speaking. “Thanks, but I'm not much for family gatherings -not even my own family, obviously. Besides, I have work to do here, remember? A full order that I've barely gotten started on.”

She hadn't really expected him to accept, but it had been worth a shot. Torn between going and staying, she pushed a hand through her tumbled curls. “Will we see each other again?”

There was a long pause before Banner said, “You know where I live. Maybe you could stop by and visit sometime on your way to your aunt's house.”

She supposed she should be encouraged that he left an opening for them to continue seeing each other, though it hadn't exactly been a formal invitation. As obvious as it was that he considered them an unlikely pair-and, yes, she had understood exactly what he had tried to tell her during their twenty-questions game-he still couldn't deny the attraction between them.

“Maybe I will,” she said.

He nodded. His expression shuttered. “Fine.”

Pushing her hands into her pockets, she said reluctantly, “Then I guess I'd better get on the road.”

“I'll help you take your things out to the car.”

He could have sounded a little less eager to help, she thought with a frown.

Lucy glanced around the living room as they prepared to step out a few minutes later. “Are you sure you don't want me to help you take down these decorations before I leave?”

“No. I'll do it.”

She gave one last look at the funny little tree, the scattered stars and paper chains. And then, with a tiny sigh, she turned and walked out, promising herself that she would see this room again.

Banner waited until she had tossed her belongings into the back of her car, and then he opened the driver's side door for her. “Drive carefully.”

“I will.”

“Have a nice Christmas with your family.”

“Thank you. For everything, Banner. You've been incredibly generous.”

Her expression of gratitude made him scowl. “Forget it. You'd better go now before it gets dark.”

She bit her lip for a moment, then turned toward the car, growing increasingly depressed by his rush to see her off. “Merry Christmas, Banner.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder, turning her back to face him. “You forgot something.”

She looked up at him expectantly. “What?”

He pointed upward with his other hand.

Following the gesture, she frowned in question, seeing nothing but deepening blue sky above them. “I don't-”

“The mistletoe,” he cut in to remind her. “I believe it has followed us out here.”

The unexpected flight of whimsy made her smile in delight-and remember exactly why she had begun to like him so much. “I believe you're right.”

He kissed her lingeringly, more tenderly than he had before. There was a lot of emotion in this kiss, but she was afraid she also sensed a finality that she didn't want to accept.

Maybe Banner really believed this was goodbye, she thought as she climbed into her car and started the engine. But as far as she was concerned, it was just the beginning for them.

That thought made it a bit easier for her to steer her car out of his driveway and onto the road that led her away from him.

Banner watched Lucy's car until it was out of his sight. Only then did he turn and walk back into his dark, chilly house. Hulk was still sleeping on the rug in front of the fire, and the silence was both absolute and very familiar.

Had it not been for the handmade decorations scattered around his living room, it would have been as if the past couple of days had never happened.

For a moment he stood in the center of the room, picturing Miss Annie in the rocker, Pop and Bobby Ray on the couch, Joan in the wing chair and the children playing on the hearth rug. And Lucy, flitting around the room like the lady of the house, making sure everyone was happy and comfortable. Oddly enough, he had enjoyed most of the interlude with his unexpected guests.

He wondered if he would ever see any of them again. Most specifically, he wondered if he would ever see Lucy again.

Sure, she had said she might stop by again sometime. But he wondered if she would still feel the same way after a few days away from him, back with her family. Once the rosy, romantic glow of their holiday adventure had worn off, she would probably see him more clearly, and perhaps wonder what she had briefly seen in the reclusive, divorced woodworker who couldn't even maintain a close relationship with his own family members.

He shook his head impatiently and moved toward the Christmas tree. Might as well get rid of all this stuff now that everyone was gone. He still had a few packages to open in his bedroom-the usual shirts, books and food gifts from his family. He had mailed his customary gifts to them-Internet-ordered gift certificates for everyone. Easy, efficient, and guaranteed to fit.

Maybe he would warm some apple cider in a little while and drink it in front of the fire, he decided. The perfect Christmas celebration, in his opinion. Just himself and his faithful dog enjoying the peace and quiet together, as he had intended when he had declined his parents' invitations to spend the holidays with them.

When he looked around the room this time, those echo images of his guests were gone. Except for Lucy. Something told him he would be seeing her in his mind for quite some time.

“So tell me about this man who opened his home to a group of stranded travelers,” Janie McDonald urged Lucy late Christmas evening. “What was he like?”

The two women had escaped to Janie's sitting room while Janie's husband and Lucy's father sat in front of the big-screen TV in the den to watch a war-themed DVD one of them had received as a gift. Janie had decorated her room as a feminine retreat, with thick-cushioned love seats and rockers, bookshelves filled with fiction and knickknacks, a small-screened TV and a sizable collection of classic movies.

A big basket beside Janie's favorite chair was stuffed with crocheting supplies for the thick, warm afghans Janie crafted while she watched those films. The multicolored skeins of yarn reminded Lucy of Miss Annie.

But it had been Banner that her aunt had asked about, she reminded herself. How on earth could she describe Banner?

“He's interesting,” she said, then shook her head at the inadequacy of the adjective. “He's a very talented woodworker who makes beautiful furniture. He has an understated sense of humor that's not always readily apparent, and he's much nicer and kinder than he gives himself credit for. He thinks of himself as a misfit, a bit of an outsider-because his parents and stepparents have made him feel that way, I think. He lacks confidence in himself and his people skills, but he really isn't the loner he tries to convince everyone, including himself, that he is.”

“He does sound interesting,” Janie murmured, studying Lucy speculatively. “How old did you say he is?”

“He'll be thirty-one on April third.”

“Sounds as if you got to know him fairly well in a short time.”

Remembering several heated kisses, Lucy had to make a determined effort not to blush. “There wasn't much to do except talk,” she said evasively. “With the electricity out and all, I mean.”

“You said he was a nice-looking young man?”

“I didn't say what he looked like,” Lucy corrected, not being fooled for a moment.

“But he is nice looking?”

“He's gorgeous,” Lucy admitted with a sigh. “Pretty enough to frame and hang on a wall.”

Janie laughed. “He sounds more interesting all the time. Are you going to see him again?”

“Absolutely.” After all, Banner had left that choice open, she reminded herself with characteristic optimism.

“Sounds promising.”

“Definite potential,” Lucy agreed. “But the man is skittish.”

Janie waved a hand in dismissal. “Honey, they all are.”

“Yes, but trust me, this one's the champ.”

Her aunt shrugged. “That just means you have to be a bit more persistent-or devious, as the need might be.”

Lucy laughed. “As much as I appreciate the confidence you show in me, I wouldn't be planning any wedding showers yet. As determined as I can be when I set my mind to something, I'm not sure even I'm a match for Richard Merchant Banner.”

Janie only smiled at the niece she had raised as her own daughter for so many years. “If it comes down to a battle of wills between you and this Richard Banner, my money is on you.”

Lucy wasn't making any bets herself. But it was nice to know she had at least one supporter firmly in her corner.

Banner woke to the rumble of central heating on the morning after Christmas. An overhead light burned directly into his eyes when he opened them. In the background he could hear the hum of his refrigerator and the other electric appliances that provided the generally unnoticed noise of modern life. They sounded unnaturally loud after the absolute silence.

Yawning, he rolled over in his sleeping bag, dislodging Hulk, who had been sleeping with his head on Banner's stomach. Even though his bedroom had been free, Banner had slept in the living room again last night. He just hadn't been in the mood to sleep alone in his big bed.

He had taken down all the Christmas decorations before turning in, so his house looked normal again. He wondered how long it would be until he felt the same as he had before meeting Lucy.

She had been his last thought before falling asleep, and his first upon awakening this morning. How could someone who had been in his life less than forty-eight hours have made such a powerful impact on him?

Because the house seemed unusually quiet, even with the appliances making their sounds, he turned on the television for noise while he cooked and ate breakfast. He was going to have to make a grocery run this afternoon to replenish his supplies, he thought with a glance into his nearly empty pantry. And then he intended to lose himself in his work, keeping himself too busy to think and too tired to lie awake that night mentally replaying ill-advised kisses.

Four-month-old Nicolas McDonald kicked happily in Lucy's arms, his wet, toothless baby smile making her melt in response. She leaned over to nuzzle his chubby cheeks, which gave him the perfect opportunity to grab a fistful of her red curls.

Carefully disentangling herself, she wrinkled her nose at him. “You are adorable,” she said.

He gurgled in smug agreement.

This was her cousin Tony's youngest child, and Lucy was crazy about him-as she was his three-year-old sister and their eight-and six-year-old cousins. She had always loved children. Never in her life had she considered that she wouldn't have any of her own, though motherhood had been one of her back-burner goals, something that could wait while she pursued her education. Now that her twenties were slipping so quickly away from her, she was becoming more aware of passing time.

Oh, sure, she was still quite young. She knew plenty of women who were putting childbearing off until their thirties, even beyond. But Lucy felt that she was at a prime point now, both physically and emotionally.

Sure, she could have a child on her own, do the single-mother thing-and she had no doubt that she could be good at the role. But she wanted it all-husband, partner, children, dog and picket fence. And Lucy had never been content to settle for less than everything she wanted.

“You're so good with children,” Tony's wife, Hannah, said, as she watched Lucy play with the baby. “I've always wondered why you chose to be at the university instead of teaching younger children.”

“Because I prefer the university setting,” Lucy replied.

“I like discussing mathematics on a higher level. That doesn't take away from my enjoyment of children, though.”

“So, are you seeing anyone special?”

Lucy wondered if Hannah's ultracasual tone was intended to make the segue less obvious. If so, it didn't work. Hannah was obviously wondering if Lucy had prospects for marriage and children of her own.

Hearing the echo of her own thoughts made Lucy clear her throat and keep her gaze focused on the baby. “Not at the moment.”

She had no intention, of course, of mentioning the new name at the top of her list. But that didn't mean she wasn't thinking of him as she continued to play with her cousin's tiny son.

Banner found the money hidden in his bread box when he was putting away the supplies he'd bought that afternoon. The bills had been tucked into a folded sheet of white paper. Frowning, he spread the page to study the neatly slanted handwriting, which he knew instinctively belonged to Lucy, even though there was no signature.

“Banner,” the note said, “your kindness and your hospitality have made this a very special Christmas for all of your guests. None of us will ever forget you. Thank you.”

He sighed as he looked at the money. He had told them not to do this. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford to feed a few houseguests for a couple of days-even though it wasn't something he did very often. Okay, ever.

Kindness and hospitality. He gave a short, humorless laugh. Wouldn't his family be surprised to read those words in connection with him? None of them would have believed he knew how to offer either one.

He found himself tracing the letters of his name, imagining Lucy writing them. “None of us will ever forget you,” she had said.

He was rather afraid that he would never be able to forget her, either.

“So, how's my little girl?” Major Les Guerin asked as he and Lucy wandered arm and arm down Janie's winding garden path. The garden was dormant for winter, but bird baths and feeders provided entertainment as a variety of birds scrambled for the best seeds.

Lucy and her father, bundled against the cold, had slipped out of the house a few minutes earlier to spend a little time alone together. It was something they tried to do whenever they found themselves in the same place at the same time, something that happened all too rarely these days with their busy schedules.

Lucy leaned comfortably against her father's arm. When she was a little girl, she had thought he was the strongest, wisest, most handsome man on the planet. Now that she was an adult, she had no doubt that he was.

She had never blamed her father for sending her to live with his sister and brother-in-law after her mother's death. Les had had no interest in remarrying after the loss of his longtime sweetheart, and his military career had been too demanding to allow him to give her the time and attention an adolescent girl deserved. Janie had been able to offer those things as well as a woman's perspective, and Lucy had never lacked for love and attention.

Her father had called her almost every evening to ask how her day had gone and had visited as often as his schedule allowed. It hadn't been a traditional father-daughter relationship, perhaps, but it had worked for them.

“I'm hardly your little girl anymore, Daddy.”

He chuckled and patted her gloved hand, which rested on his arm. “I don't care how many advanced degrees you get, you'll always be my little girl.”

It was an old, familiar exchange, and as always it made Lucy smile. She rested her head against his shoulder. “I love you, Daddy.”

He responded with a characteristic mumble, then quickly changed the subject. “I hope you learned your lesson about taking off in your car when an ice storm is threatened. You were lucky you didn't spend Christmas Eve in a ditch somewhere, you know. Or worse.”

“I didn't know there was going to be an ice storm. The weather forecaster said he thought there would only be snow, if that. If I had known about the ice-”

“You probably would have tried to make it, anyway,” her father said with resignation.

“Maybe,” Lucy agreed ruefully. “I wouldn't have liked the thought of not being with everyone for Christmas. As it was, I missed the big Christmas Eve shindig.”

“Sounds like you had an interesting time where you were.”

“It was definitely interesting. Everyone was so nice. I really enjoyed watching the children find their gifts from Santa Claus.” She had told her family all about Tyler and Tricia and the lengths the adults had gone to so the children would have a special Christmas.

“You were just darned lucky you had a safe place to stay. Could have been stranded alone in your car. Or the guy in the house could have been a dangerous nutcase. Anything could have happened to you.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Lucy said, tolerating his lecturing because she knew he really did worry about her. “I promise I'll be more careful in the future, but this time everything worked out fine.”

“And now you're humoring me.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Should've spanked you more when you were a kid,” he muttered.

Not believing a word of it, she laughed and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder as affectionately as a kitten. The major might intimidate most other people, but Lucy knew that where she was concerned, at least, the man was a marshmallow.

“So this guy who took you in-you going to be seeing him again?”

She wasn't particularly surprised by the question. Her father had always had a sixth sense about her. It had been particularly spooky when she was a teenager hundreds of miles away from him and somehow he had still known everything she was up to, but she had gotten accustomed to it since then. “Yes, I'll see him again.”

“Too early to get serious. Two days isn't long enough to get to know someone.”

“Are you telling me you don't believe in love at first sight?” Her gently mocking tone was deliberate, since she had heard the story about her father meeting her mother and immediately saying to himself, “Here is the woman I'm going to marry.”

The Major had the grace to flush a little. “I didn't say that,” he answered gruffly. “Are you telling me you already fancy yourself in love with this man?”

“All I'm saying is that I like him quite a lot, and I hope to have a chance to get to know him better. Maybe you'll meet him before long. I think you would like him, too, even though he's a little…well, different.”

This time it was her father who chuckled. “I wouldn't have expected anyone who caught your interest to be anything but different.”

That made her lift an eyebrow. “I'm trying to decide if that's a compliment or an insult.”

Patting her hand again, he led her onto a new pathway. “I'll let you think about it for a while. And, by the way, I do want to meet this Banner guy. Sooner, rather than later, if things start getting serious.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Apparently satisfied that he had made his point, Les changed the subject to family matters, and Lucy willingly went along.

She had said all she intended to say about Banner. More than he would have liked, probably, considering how obsessively private he was. But nothing had changed about her interest in seeing him again.