Выбрать главу

"Who decorated the house?" he asked, pulling out a chair. "Kris?"

Carroll jumped and looked up. "I didn't hear you knock," she said pointedly.

"I came in with an escort. She warned me that you might not be in the mood for company."

"You should have listened." She squeezed a blob of frosting onto the recalcitrant wall and attempted to anchor it. "Are you trying to tell me that the decorations are a bit overdone?"

He shook his head. "Just trying to decide if it's a genetic or an environmental influence."

"Try sentimental. We just can't seem to throw any of it away. Some of the stuff is Kris's, some my mother's, some mine. Now Christy's started stockpiling things."

"Tell me about it. I think I've just been added to her collection."

"That's nice," Carroll murmured, temporarily bracing the wall with a tin canister. "There, that should hold it until it dries." She looked up and blinked thoughtfully at his satisfied grin. "You've been what?"

"You heard me." Amusement gleamed in his eyes. "She proposed."

"One of these days I'm going to have to explain to her about age differences," she muttered, wondering if her bluff would work. When his grin broadened, she knew it hadn't.

"She thinks I'm just the right age. For you."

"Oh, God."

"I didn't accept. Yet. I thought I'd better clear it with you first."

"This isn't funny, Slade. You can't encourage her when she says things like that."

"I don't think I could have stopped her. Besides, all she wants is a father."

"All? All?" She glared at him. "Maybe you've missed one of the links here. In order for her to have a father, I have to have a husband."

"No, I caught on to that right away."

"Good for you." She jumped up and collected a handful of dishes. Taking them over to the sink, she said, "I'm all for encouraging dreams, everyone's dreams. But not this one. Not for her, and not for me. I'm not about to put our futures on the line again. She was too young to be hurt when her father walked away-"

"You weren't," he said quietly.

Carroll stiffened. Grateful for the small task, she scrubbed the few dishes carefully. It was a reprieve. When she finished, he was still there, still waiting. She turned around, stormy blue eyes meeting understanding gray ones. "No, I wasn't too young. I've already told you that. Later, I got mad, but I was one of the walking wounded for a long time. No one will ever do that to Christy. At least, not while I'm around to stop it."

"Too much protection can turn people into emotional cripples," he commented. When she whirled around, outrage written all over her face, he held up a hand. "Wait a minute. Hear me out. I know you've been both mother and father to her, and it couldn't have been easy. You've done a wonderful job, one to be proud of, but you can't protect her from life. People go away, people die, and we all have to learn to deal with it. We can't refuse to trust and love because we're afraid that somewhere down the road we're going to be hurt. We may avoid some pain that way, but we miss out on a hell of a lot of pleasure."

Carroll slapped the dish towel on the counter, her eyes raking over him angrily. "That all sounds very philosophical, but unless you've gone through it, you don't know what you're talking about. Have you ever been hurt like that? Has anyone ever walked out on you, betrayed your trust? Made you feel like a gullible fool?" She took a deep breath and glared at him.

"Yeah."

Blinking uncertainly, she moved nearer and perched on the corner of the table. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. Five years ago." He gave her a level glance. "My partner walked off with our business, and my fiancee walked off with my partner."

"What did you do?"

He shrugged. "Got mad. Got bitter. Blamed them. Didn't trust a soul outside of my family. Cut off my social life and turned into a workaholic while I started over again."

"I'm sorry, Slade." Her voice was subdued. "I was mad, or I wouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have asked."

He shrugged again. "It's over and done with. Past history." He waited several moments, then shot her a swift grin. "You're not going to ask, are you?" He shook his head. "A stubborn woman. I'll tell you anyway. I recovered. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I shared some of the blame. I had been a rotten judge of character. I had known them both for a couple of years, but I didn't know them, if that makes any sense."

She nodded.

"'I have another partner now." He pushed himself away from the table. "Lecture's over," he said briskly. "Since we can't work, how about walking into town? Maybe I'll tell you how my search for a new fiancee is going."

Chapter Five

Carroll gestured toward the towering trees. "Once the lights go on, hoards of people will be driving in to see them. You can't imagine what it's like. Cars are bumper-to-bumper, snaking up one street and down the next. The traffic gets so bad most of us don't even bother using our cars, so if you have any shopping to do, you'd better hop to it." Her voice was breathless as they followed the winding road into town. "We always stock up ahead of time, as much as we can. All the store owners love the crowds, of course, and the gas station leases a few more tow trucks, because cars overheat and have to be hauled away."

It wasn't the altitude that had her gasping for air, nor was it the exercise. She was accustomed to both. It was just that she had talked, without stopping, for the fifteen minutes it had taken to walk from the house to the center of town. Babbling was more like it, she amended silently. She had covered the weather: brisk and getting cooler every day; Kris's prediction of snow: unlikely; the town: an ideal place to raise children but not big on social life; Christy's belief in the existence of Santa Claus: teetering; and Slade's lack of holiday decorations: she had some she would loan him. Innocuous fare, admittedly, but better than the alternative. She didn't want to hear about his fian-cée-past: the idiot; present: nonexistent; or future: chicken!

Carroll took a second to give herself a mental pat on the back. Her effort had been heroic, to say the least. It wasn't easy to be bright and chatty when your body was simmering with tension and-yes, damn it-a betraying sense of anticipation. If they gave medals for performance under racking circumstances, she deserved one. Maybe two.

Because Slade Ryan was nothing but pure temptation.

And she was very susceptible.

His crisp black hair was the kind that made her fingertips tingle. And for a woman who professed to be disinterested in men, she was alarmingly distracted by him. No, having Slade around for the past several weeks had proven one thing: she wasn't immune to that old devil, sex. When he was near, she almost forgot about a father who had walked away with no apparent regret, followed by a husband who had done the same. Almost, but not quite.

It wasn't that she thought he was lying; Slade seemed to be an honorable man, but she hadn't known him long enough to be certain. At any rate, if he made a commitment, he seemed to be the type who would honor it. He talked about marriage, and he probably meant it. Now. But, regardless of his present intentions, he could always change his mind. People did. Not just men, she thought, being fair: people.

And on that fragile foundation she was supposed to build a future? Trust her own future-and her daughter's-to something so uncertain? No, thank you. Slade Ryan might be the sexiest man to come down the pike in… all right, admit it, her entire life, but sexy didn't count when the chips were down. It helped, but what really counted was staying power.

Carroll wasn't a gambler. She never hid the Fact that risk-taking wasn't high on her list of priorities. She was far too practical. Too level-headed. Not very exciting qualities, she was quick to admit, but somebody in her family had to have them. At the age of twelve she had learned that both Kris and Noel were blithely indifferent to financial matters. If things were left to them, they would stuff bills and paychecks in an old box and expect some metaphysical happening to straighten out the ensuing mess. That was when she had studied a book about budgeting and learned to write checks and reconcile a bank account. As she remembered, Noel and Kris had given loud cries of joy, signed checks when requested, and otherwise washed their hands of the entire situation.