A Husband For The Holidays. Ami Weaver

      When he came in the back room, Marla looked at him, then pointed at the door. “I’ll get the front.”

      “Thanks,” he said, and went outside.

      The cold air hit him with a blast, after the warmth of the back room. She stood by the tree line, her back to him. He saw the defensiveness of her posture, her arms wrapped around herself, her head down.

      The fierce need to draw her in, rest his chin on her head, to just hold her, nearly overwhelmed him. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead as he came up beside her. “What’s going on? Did that woman upset you?”

      Had she been thinking what he had? Seeing them as a young married couple? Wondering how their marriage had disintegrated so fast?

      She went even stiffer than before, if that was possible. “Mack, why are you out here?”

      “I don’t know.” It was God’s honest truth. He came around to the front of her, but she wouldn’t look up. “Darcy. Did she?”

      She shook her head. “Of course not. She was very nice. Excited for their first Christmas together.” Her voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ve just got a headache.”

      A headache. Right. And he’d just grown a third arm. “Okay. Can I get you anything?” Why had he thought she’d maybe confide? That maybe they’d seen the same thing and had the same regrets? Why would she tell him?

      She lifted her gaze then, and the pain in her eyes nearly brought him to his knees. “There’s nothing you can do.”

      If that was the truth, then what the hell? He cupped her chin in his hand, saw her eyes widen. “I saw it, too. I felt it, too. Lie to me, but not yourself.” His voice was rough in his throat. “Don’t think this is easy on me, Darce. It’s not.” Then because he couldn’t not, he bent forward and planted a soft kiss on her cold lips, lingering for a heartbeat, before he pulled away. Now there was surprise in her eyes, and that was better than pain. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, then turned to go back inside.

      Because if he didn’t, he’d kiss her again. For real. And once they started down that path, there’d be no going back.

      * * *

      “You going to turn the water off, dear?” Amusement filled Marla’s voice as Darcy blinked, then yanked the handle down. Mack kissed me. That was a shock after the little scene in the coffee shop earlier. Marla hadn’t asked any questions, and that led Darcy to believe Marla thought something had happened with her and Mack.

      She wouldn’t be wrong, exactly.

      It had been a small kiss. A peck, really. But, oh, it—and the look in his eyes—had shot straight to her heart.

      She managed a smile for her aunt’s sake. “Just tired.”

      “Mmm-hmm.” Marla folded the towel precisely and put it on the counter. “Darcy. What happened today?”

      Darcy shut her eyes. She didn’t want to relive it. If she’d been able to control the reaction, as she had the few times she was hit with it before, none of this would have happened. Of course, Mack hadn’t been within touching distance. “I had a weak moment.”

      Marla sat down at the table, and the squeak of a second chair being nudged out was a clear hint that she wanted Darcy to have a seat, too. So she did, reluctantly. “Honey, this has been a shock for you. I’m not sure how much you’ve dealt with since you’ve been gone.” She held up a hand as Darcy opened her mouth to deny it. “Please. Listen. Okay?” Darcy clamped her mouth shut and nodded. “Okay. You left but you never dealt with the pain. You suffered two incredibly hard losses in a short time. You wouldn’t talk about it when we asked you. You kept insisting you were fine. And you were so very young to boot. You’ve thrown yourself into your new life, but reinventing yourself isn’t any good if the foundation you’ve based it on isn’t strong.”

      Tears pricked Darcy’s eyes, but she folded her hands tightly in front of her on the table, not wanting to give in to the weakness. Again. Marla’s gnarled hand found hers, closing tight over her own. Darcy focused on her aunt’s neatly trimmed nails to try to keep the tears at bay.

      “Honey. You are strong. You are one of the strongest people I know, and as stubborn as your uncle. You went through hell and back and it’s okay to grieve. It’s not weak. It’s necessary.”

      Darcy shut her eyes. She appreciated this, she did, but Marla didn’t know the whole story. No one did.

      “Talk to Mack,” Marla said gently. “You don’t have to reconcile, but you do have some stuff to put behind you.”

      Darcy managed a smile. “I appreciate your concern. It has been a shock.” That was the absolute truth. Seeing Mack had sent her off-kilter in so many ways. Knowing he was buying the farm had been the least of it. “But there’s not much to say, Aunt Marla. It was a long time ago. I don’t see what it would change.”

      Marla sat back and Darcy caught the look of disappointment that passed over her face. She swallowed hard. It was so important that she keep all this locked down. She’d worked so hard to get it to that point. She wasn’t sure what would happen if she let it all out now.

      * * *

      The next night, she went upstairs to her room, but she wasn’t sleepy, despite her restless nights and busy days. She looked out the window to see the snow had stopped. The moon was shining on the snow, gilding the trees with silver. It was still fairly early, only eight thirty.

      She went back downstairs and outside. She needed more shampoo, so she’d run to Jim’s to grab some. It’d get her out of her head and off the farm for a little bit.

      Win-win.

      She drove into town and parked in the half-empty parking lot of the grocery store. Inside, she got her shampoo but stopped dead when she saw who was in line in front of her.

      Mack.

      Knowing she couldn’t turn and slip away once he spotted her, she lifted her chin and got in line.

      “Evening,” he said, and offered her a smile.

      Her breath caught. The laugh lines that fanned out from his eyes added character and were surprisingly sexy. “Hi,” she managed to return in a normal voice. Then, because she couldn’t stand there and look at him, she dropped her attention to the items he’d put on the belt, including a garish box with a toucan on it.

      “Kids’ cereal?” A giggle escaped her. “Still?”

      He looked sheepish. “Hey. I like them.”

      “I know.” Now her gaze caught his and the weight of a shared past blanketed them for a heartbeat. For once, it wasn’t fringed with pain. She swallowed hard.

      “How are you tonight?” The cashier’s chirpy voice cut through the moment and Darcy looked away, heart pounding, as Mack turned to address the young woman.

      She kept her gaze fixed on the colorful box of cereal. Because then she wasn’t looking at how those jeans hugged his perfect rear. If she didn’t look, she didn’t have to acknowledge how badly she wanted to slide her hands over it.

      If she didn’t acknowledge it, she could pretend everything was normal. That somehow she wasn’t losing her tenuous grip on normal.