McIver's Mission Read online

  "It just seems kind of fast."

  "I started to fall in love with you that first day in the park."

  "That's really too fast."

  "Obviously you don't feel the same way."

  "I'm not sure how I feel," she admitted. "I care about you, more than I've ever cared for anyone else. But love? I'm not sure I'm even capable of love."

  "He must have hurt you very badly."

  She started to shake her head, then stopped. "I can't … I don't know if I can talk to you about it. Not yet."

  "I wish you would tell me. Not because I need to know all the secrets of your past, but because I want you to trust me enough to want to talk about it."

  "I've never told anyone about it."

  "I'm not just anyone," he said.

  "No." She managed a smile. "You're not."

  "I can wait."

  "I might never be ready to talk about it. To … to love you."

  "I'll wait as long as I need to." It was true. It was the one thing he was certain of. He couldn't imagine his life without Arden; he wouldn't consider a future that didn't have her in it.

  "I can't ask that of you. You deserve so much more than I can give you."

  "I want you, Arden. But I'm not going to push for something you're not ready for. Let's just take things one day at a time and see what happens."

  "Are you sure that's okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  "Okay," she agreed hesitantly.

  "Good. Now for more immediate matters."

  "Such as?"

  "Thanksgiving."

  "What about it?"

  "It's next week, and I thought it might be nice to cook a turkey here. Invite Colin and Nikki and Carly, do a family sort of thing." Ease her into the idea of being part of his family. Show her how wonderful it would be if she stayed with him forever.

  "That sounds like a nice idea."

  He smiled, pleased by her agreement. "Have you ever cooked a turkey?"

  "No."

  "Me, neither."

  * * *

  "Someone needs to write a basic cookbook," Arden said, scanning the contents of the thick volume on the counter. "Thanksgiving Dinner for Dummies. This one has a recipe for sage dressing and candied yams, but nowhere does it say how long the turkey's supposed to cook."

  "Until it's done."

  "You're a big help," Arden muttered.

  "I think there were cooking instructions on the wrapper."

  "The wrapper that you put out in the garbage?"

  He winced. "Yeah, that one."

  "Great."

  "Why don't you just call Nikki?"

  "No." She hated to admit that she was so inept in the kitchen that she couldn't even cook a turkey. But she could call Rebecca. Her secretary was well aware of her lack of culinary expertise, and she wasn't likely to make too much fun of the woman who signed her paychecks.

  "How long does it have to cook?" Shaun asked when she hung up the phone.

  "Until the little button in the turkey pops out," Arden said.

  Shaun looked at the bird. "What button?"

  "The button that's in the kind of turkey that Rebecca buys so that she knows when it's cooked."

  "I guess we didn't get one with a button."

  "You guessed right."

  He pulled her into his arms, kissed her long and hard. "To hell with the turkey," Shaun said. "Let's order Chinese."

  "We can't have Chinese for Thanksgiving," Arden protested. "It's very un-American."

  "Says who?" Shaun countered. "There are millions of Chinese Americans, and I bet at least some of them are having Chinese for dinner."

  "Probably sweet-and-sour turkey balls."

  "If I can find out how long this bird needs to cook, will you marry me?"

  She dropped the can of cranberry she'd taken out of the cupboard. She knew he was teasing, but something tightened inside her. It wasn't an entirely uncomfortable feeling, almost a longing. Whatever it was, she pushed it aside. "If you find out how to cook it, I'll do the dishes," she countered.

  "Deal."

  It took him less than five minutes on the computer to download the necessary instructions from the Internet.

  "I never realized you were so resourceful," she commented when he handed her the printed page. She knew she'd been conned, but she was so relieved to have the information she didn't care. And she knew he'd help with the cleanup, anyway.

  "You'd be amazed what kind of information you can get from the Internet," Shaun told her, slipping his arms around her waist and nuzzling the back of her neck.

  Arden felt her blood heat, her body ache. "Such as?"

  "The entire Kama Sutra. With pictures." He turned her to face him, lowered his head to nibble on her lips.

  "Really?"

  "Mmm-hmm." He was too busy raining kisses over her jaw to give a more audible response.

  "We'll save that lesson for another time," she said. "Right now we have to get this bird in the oven."

  "Or we could order Chinese and use our time more … creatively," he suggested.

  Arden laughed and pushed him away. "This Thanksgiving dinner was your idea."

  He sighed but gamely rolled up his sleeves. "I'll peel the potatoes."

  As much as Arden had stressed about preparing her first Thanksgiving meal, she enjoyed puttering around the kitchen with Shaun. In the few weeks that they'd been living together, they'd established an easy camaraderie. It was almost too easy, she thought sometimes.

  That worried her. Even though they'd agreed to take things one step at a time, and he'd promised not to push her, she was worried. They'd been pretty much inseparable for the past few weeks, but that was normal at the beginning of a relationship. Wasn't it?

  She didn't really know. She hadn't had a relationship like this since … well, never. The last semi-serious relationship she'd had was back in law school, and her experience with Brad had taught her to protect herself, to guard her heart.

  And she'd done so. Until now.

  Her relationship with Shaun was anything but casual. Somehow he'd disabled her defenses, gotten closer to her than anyone else ever had. And what worried her most, she was forced to admit, were her own feelings. She liked going to sleep beside him every night, waking up with him in the morning. She liked not being alone.

  Was it possible that this could work out? Or was it only a matter of time until she would be alone again?

  * * *

  Shaun was just taking the turkey out of the oven when the doorbell rang. Arden was mashing the potatoes, so he set the turkey on top of the stove and went to open the door for their guests.

  It was cold outside, especially compared to the heat in the kitchen, and Carly's cheeks were rosy with it. "Happy Thanksgiving, Uncle Shaun."

  "Happy Thanksgiving, yourself," he said. "Come on in." Nikki came next, kissing his cheek as she passed, and carrying the pumpkin pie she'd promised to bring. Colin was behind her, a large cardboard box in his arms.

  "Arden's in the kitchen," Shaun told them. "Just finishing up a few things."

  "I found this in the back of the closet in your old room," Nikki said to Arden, gesturing to the cardboard box in Colin's arms.

  "What is it?" Arden seemed more interested in the pumpkin pie Nikki was carrying. She took it from her cousin's hands; Shaun took the box from his brother.

  "It's yours," Nikki said. "Mostly old photo albums. Pictures of you when you were a baby."

  Arden's face paled and she turned away quickly to put the pie on the counter.

  It was interesting, Shaun mused wryly, that it wasn't only a declaration of love that caused such a reaction. He stood holding the box, uncertain what to do with it in light of Arden's response. She busied herself at the counter, refused to look at him or the box he held.

  "Baby pictures," he teased. "That's something I'd love to see."

  "I don't want them," Arden said.

  Nikki frowned. "But there are pictures of your dad in there. You and you
r mom and dad."

  "Is that—" she swallowed "—is that all?"

  "Yeah."

  Arden hesitated a moment longer, eyeing the box cautiously, then she took it from his hands and dropped it into a corner.

  He tried to forget about it: the box and Arden's reaction to it. It wasn't so hard while Colin and Nikki and Carly were there. Conversation over dinner was light and casual. Dinner turned out well, for a first attempt. The turkey was a little overcooked, the carrots a little undercooked, the gravy slightly lumpy. But there weren't many leftovers, so he figured the meal was a success. More gratifying to Shaun was the atmosphere. The easy camaraderie of family. The presence of the woman he loved.

  It was just after seven when Colin rounded up his family for the trip home. Shaun stood beside Arden at the window to wave goodbye as the first flakes began to fall, swirling carelessly, unhurriedly, in the dark sky.

  "Look," he said. "It's starting to snow."

  She smiled. "I've always loved the first snow of the season."

  "Let's take a walk," he said impulsively.

  "Now?"

  "Why not? We need to work off some of that turkey and pumpkin pie."

  "But it's snowing."

  "It's romantic," he told her.

  "Since when are you such an expert on romance?" she countered.

  "Since you came into my life."

  She smiled, almost reluctantly. "Let's go for a walk."

  * * *

  It was a beautiful night. Despite the falling snow, the sky was mostly clear, the stars sparkling against the dark blanket of the sky like so many diamonds on velvet. The neighborhood was quiet, the streets empty, and it seemed as if there was no one in the world except the two of them. It was magic.

  "It was a good day, wasn't it?" Arden asked as they walked hand in hand down the street.

  "Wonderful," he agreed.

  "The turkey wasn't too overcooked?"

  "It was delicious."

  "I'm glad we did this," she said. "I really miss Nikki and Colin and Carly sometimes."

  "They're so happy together," Shaun commented. "And now there's another baby on the way."

  "They deserve to be happy. They've been through a lot."

  "Do you think happiness is something that has to be earned?"

  "No." She shrugged. "I don't know."

  "Don't you deserve to be happy? Don't we deserve to be happy?"

  "I am happy," Arden told him.

  "Are you?"

  "Yes." And she meant it. Maybe she was worried about her psycho pen pal, maybe she was afraid her relationship with Shaun wouldn't—couldn't—last, but right now she was happy. She didn't dare look any further than that.

  "It's been a while since you've got a letter," Shaun said.

  She nodded.

  "Maybe he's given up."

  "Maybe."

  "But you don't think so?"

  "I don't know. I want to believe he has, but I can't help thinking that he's just lulling me into a false sense of security."

  "You're safe here, Arden. I won't let anything happen to you."

  "I know."

  They walked to the end of the street, where the playground equipment stood silent, empty.

  "This park has been here forever," Shaun told her. "Colin and I used to come here as kids, to play on the swings, climb the jungle gym, throw a baseball around."

  "Did you have a happy childhood?"

  "For the most part," he agreed. "My mom was terrific. She spent a lot of time with us."

  "What about your dad?"

  "He was always too busy to pay much attention to us. He spent a lot of time at the courthouse, and when he was home, we had to tiptoe around so as not to disturb him."

  "But you were close to him?"

  "I respected him," Shaun said. "We were always told how important he was, and I wanted to grow up to be like him someday. Until I got older. Then I realized I only wanted to be a lawyer … I didn't want to be like my father."

  "He was a good judge."

  "He was a lousy father."

  She nodded. "Do you ever wonder if…"

  "If what?" Shaun prompted.

  "If you could be a good father, despite the example he set."

  "I used to have doubts," he admitted. "But Colin had the same father I did, and he's adjusted to fatherhood with little difficulty. I think the only thing that matters is wanting to be a good parent. If you do, you can make it work."

  She nodded.

  "Is that what bothers you? Did losing your parents leave that much of a void in your life?"

  She shook her head, feeling a twinge of guilt for not correcting his misconception about her family. "No. After—when I came to live with Aunt Tess, it was a big adjustment. But she showed me what a family should be like. She was so much more of a mother to me than mine ever was." She rubbed her hands briskly over her arms, wondering why she'd volunteered that piece of information. "It's getting cold. Let's walk some more."

  He curved his arm around her shoulders. "Can you still feel your toes?"

  "Barely."

  "Good."

  She raised an eyebrow.

  "I did have an ulterior motive in suggesting this little outing."

  "Which was?"

  "You're going to need some help warming up when we get back to the house."

  "Hot chocolate and a crackling fire would be great."

  He grinned. "Among other things."

  * * *

  Arden was smiling as she followed the scent of fresh coffee down the stairs the following morning. There were definite advantages to this living arrangement, and having her morning coffee made for her was the least of them.

  Her smile faded when she caught a glimpse of Shaun in the dining room. She stopped in the doorway, her quest for caffeine forgotten. The box Nikki and Colin had delivered the previous day was on the table, the top opened. Shaun held a framed photograph in his hands.

  "What are you doing?"

  He glanced up at her, the quick flash of guilt replaced by an easy smile. "I'm unpacking this for you."

  "I don't want it unpacked."

  "Why not?"

  "I just don't."

  He wiped the dust off the glass with his fingers. "This must be your mom," Shaun said. "She looks like she could be your twin."

  "Yeah." Arden took the picture from him, shoved it back into the box. The resemblance between her and her mother thirty years ago was uncanny and disconcerting. She couldn't help but think that a resemblance so strong, so deep, was indicative of other similarities. The last thing she'd ever wanted was to be like her mother.

  "She was beautiful."

  Arden ignored the comment and folded the flaps on the top of the box.

  "Is this your dad?" Shaun asked, holding another frame he'd set aside.

  Arden sighed, wishing he would just leave it alone. But obviously Shaun had other ideas. She glanced at the picture in his hands, at the handsome couple all smiles and joy. The man was tall and dark-haired and holding a baby in his arms. The slender woman beside him was a mirror image of herself, her hand over her husband's, on top of the baby's tummy.

  "Yes, that's my father," she told him. She hated that her memories of him were so faded. That the memories of everything that happened after his death were so painfully clear.

  "How old were you when he died?"

  "Five."

  "That must have been hard on you."

  She shrugged and moved away, not wanting to dig any deeper into the painful memories. "It's never easy to lose someone you love."

  He nodded, and she knew he was thinking about his own parents. "No, it's not," he agreed. Then, "They looked happy together."

  "Can we please not do this right now?"

  "I didn't mean to upset you by bringing it up," he said.

  She shrugged off his concern. "I just don't like talking about them."

  "But they're your family, Arden."

  "I don't have any family anymore." It was bett
er that way.

  "Who's this?" he asked, holding up a small unframed photo that was crinkled around the edges.

  She couldn't see the picture from where she was standing, but she didn't need to look at it to know that the edges were bent from years spent tucked in her pocket, the photo smudged by young fingers tracing the smiling faces. And she was helpless to prevent the tears that filled her eyes, stunned that the grief could come back so sharp, so strong, after so many years.

  She blinked away the tears, cleared her throat. "That's me."

  "Yeah, I kind of figured that," he said. "Who's the little girl with you?"

  "My sister."

  * * *

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  Shaun felt his mouth drop open, snapped it shut again. "Your … sister?"

  Arden nodded and took the picture from his hand. He could see the sheen of tears in her eyes as she lovingly traced the smiling face of the younger child, could feel the heartache she carried inside her.

  "Her name's Rheanne," she told him. A single tear trembled for a moment on the edge of her lashes before slipping slowly down the curve of her cheek.

  She set the picture on the table and turned toward the kitchen. Her hands weren't quite steady, he noted, as she took a mug from the cupboard and filled it from the carafe. He suspected that she wanted something to do more than she wanted the coffee.

  She came back into the dining room and sat down at the table, her hands cradled around the mug. "The last time I saw her, she wasn't even two years old."

  The questions swirled through Shaun's mind, but he waited silently for her to continue.

  "My mother remarried less than a year after my father died, then we moved with her new husband to North Carolina, then Oregon, then Arizona. As far as I know, she's still in Arizona."

  Shaun frowned, wondering why Arden had grown up with Nikki's family in Fairweather if her mother was in Arizona, and why Arden never talked about her mother.

  "Everything was okay at first," Arden continued. "After my mom and Gavin got married. At least, I think it was. I don't remember that much of the first couple of years. And then my mom got pregnant, and they started to argue. A lot. I don't know what they fought about. I only remember that they always seemed to be fighting.

  "Then Rheanne was born." She smiled a little at the memory. "She was so tiny, so beautiful. The fighting got even worse after that and Gavin—" she swallowed "—my stepfather, liked to drink. And when he drank, he got abusive. Just verbally, at first. Then he started to knock my mom around.