Her ex was silent for a long time, and Lindsay might’ve wondered if he’d hung up on her, but she could hear the television on in the background.
“Well?” she prodded.
“I guess New Year’s it is. I’m not happy about this, Lindsay.”
“As I said, I don’t give a damn if you are or aren’t. Your happiness is so far down my list of priorities that I’m not sure if it’s even still
on
the list.”
“You got what you wanted, so there’s no need to be a bitch.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” Lindsay grinned triumphantly at Henry, and he beamed back at her. “But I’m done letting you ruin
my
happiness. We’ll see you on the thirty-first, Max. I’ll call you before we leave that morning with an ETA.”
“Fine. Put Noah on the phone, please.”
“No. He’s in his room thinking over his attitude right now, but if he wants to talk to you afterwards, he’s more than welcome to call you. Goodbye, Max.”
Deciding to quit while she was ahead, she ended the call without even waiting for Max to respond to her farewell and let out long breath. She shifted her position to face Henry and found him watching her with profound pride etched into his face. He slipped his hand around to the back of her head and leaned forward to kiss her tenderly.
“I’m going to head home and let you eat in peace,” he murmured. “I’ll see you in the morning after Noah goes to school.”
“What if I want you to stay?”
“It’s best that I go. I meant what I said to Noah.” He touched his lips to hers again, and when he pulled away and stood, he smiled. “But don’t worry. Something tells me he won’t hold out for long.”
She followed him to the door, leaning out into the chilly, damp night. He hugged her, holding her tightly for a few minutes—just long enough to restore peace to her heart but not so long that she would be tempted to beg him to stay.
“Love you, gorgeous.”
Again, he didn’t let her say it back, striding out to his truck before she could. She watched him drive off.
“I love you, too,” she whispered, and she knew it was true.
Returning to the dining room, she sat down to eat her dinner even though she was too agitated to be hungry. The house was remarkably quiet with no sound whatsoever coming from Noah’s room. It was a little after nine, so it was possible he’d fallen asleep, though that was doubtful. Was he actually thinking about what Henry had said? Lindsay promised herself she’d finish her meal before she went to see.
As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait that long.
In the silence, the sound of his door opening was loud, and a floorboard in the hallway creaked as he stepped on it on his way into the kitchen. A moment later, he appeared in the kitchen, but instead of joining her, he headed straight for the door and grabbed his coat off the peg behind the door.
“Just where do you think you’re going, young man?” she demanded.
“I’m gonna go talk to Henry.”
Then he was gone, and she stared at the closed front door in shock for half a second before it sank in that he son had just vanished outside. She skidded around the counter separating the kitchen from the living room and ran to the door, jerking it open. He was gone, swallowed by the black night.
“Noah!” she yelled.
Instinct compelled her to run after him, but she didn’t. It was only two and a half blocks to the cottage Henry was renting, and Indianola was a peaceful town. There was also the gut belief that he needed a man’s advice right now more than his mother’s terrified chastisement. She waited long enough for him to reach the cottage, listening intently with her heart pounding for any sound of trouble, then went back in and called Henry.
“Is Noah there?”
“He just showed up. Do you want me to send him home?”
“No. Not until he’s ready.”
“I’ll walk him home when he is.”
She thanked him and hung up, then collapsed on the couch and prayed Henry would be able to succeed where she’d failed.
* * *
Henry had to reach almost as deep into his willpower to leave Lindsay so soon after she’d broken down as he’d had to to walk away from Dylan, but he knew her well enough to understand that she needed some time alone to talk with her son. As it was, he’d already stuck his foot in it when he’d told Noah to apologize to her, so he ignored every instinct to stay to make sure she was all right. Of course she was… or would be. She’d been dealing with this for eight years, and she’d been strong enough to do it all on her own all that time, so he reminded himself that she was more than capable of handle it tonight.
I don’t want her to
have
to deal with it on her own,
he grumbled as he let himself into his cottage.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, he picked up the phone and called his mother to inform her of the change in his and Lindsay’s plans for Christmas even though it was after ten in Montana and he would probably wake up his early-to-rise parents. He needed the distraction, and they’d understand.
“I’m surprised to hear from you so late, Henry,” his mother replied, fully lucid. “You usually have more consideration.”
“Oh, lord. What did I interrupt?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” John said, apparently only a few feet away as he was close enough to hear Henry’s side of the conversation. “So this had better be good.”
“Probably not good enough,” Henry replied. “Lindsay and I are going to have to cut our stay short by a few days so we can drop Noah off at his dad’s for New Years. I just wanted to let you know.”
“I thought the idea was for Noah to visit his dad on that three-day weekend later in January,” Tracie remarked.
“It was. Max threw a temper tantrum, partially about not seeing his son for Christmas… but mostly about Noah spending time with me. He said some not-so-nice things to Lindsay, knowing exactly where to hit her to cause the most damage. And then Noah lashed out at her instead of at Max.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. It wasn’t fun. But we dealt with it, and she called Max back to tell him that Christmas in Montana was non-negotiable, so she and Noah and her parents are still coming.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We’re quite looking forward to it. With them and Skye and her family joining us, it’ll be the kind of raucous Christmas we used to have when your father’s brothers and their families all came home.”
“You going to tell him about the phone messages from Mel?” Henry heard his father ask.
“I think maybe I should wait,” Tracie replied away from the phone.
Not far enough away
, Henry thought. “Too late for that now. What messages from Mel?”
“I stopped up to check on your house this afternoon, and I saw the light on your answering machine flashing, which I thought was odd because everyone who would call you knows you’re in Washington and has the number there. I didn’t think you’d mind, so I listened to the messages. They were all from Mel—sixteen of them—and all she said was that she needs to talk to you.”
“She left
sixteen
messages? Holy Christ. And she didn’t say in even one of them what was so urgent that she would call me
sixteen
times?”
“No, she didn’t.”
What the hell could be so important? He’d made sure she and Doug both understood that he would be away from home for an extended period of time and that they had until Christmas to figure out what to do about Dylan and each other before he started searching for a lawyer for Mel, and he had purposefully not given either of them the phone number of the cottage because he’d wanted to focus solely on Lindsay.
“Well, thanks for letting me know.”
Henry ended the call and wandered into the living room, slumping into the canvas-colored couch with his legs stretched out in front of him. For a while, he stared out the broad windows at the lights scattered along the shore of Bainbridge Island across the water and debated calling Mel. After the kerfuffle with Max and Noah, he wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything that was sure to add more stress, but she wouldn’t have called him sixteen times if it wasn’t important… would she? She’d been struggling since he’d left, but he had hoped Doug would either let go of his anger and willingly step up to the plate or do it because he didn’t want to incur the expenses and frustration of a court battle. What if Doug was still fighting it? The memory of Lindsay crying spurred him to action. He dialed Mel’s number.
“Hello?” she answered.
“It’s Henry.”
“Oh, hi! I didn’t recognize the area code.”
“I’m still in Washington. My mom said you’ve left a bunch of messages on my answering machine. What do you need?”
“I don’t need anything.”
“Then why did you leave sixteen messages?”
“Well, for one, I have good news. Dough and I are back together.”
Henry jerked his head back. That
was
good news—better than he’d expected when he’d last talked to Doug. “That’s great, Mel.”
“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy, but we’re working through our issues, and I think we’re going to make it. I’m hopeful, anyhow. He and Dylan are bonding pretty quickly.”
Relief surged through Henry, and he tipped his head back to rest it on the back of the couch.
Thank God
. “That is a huge weight off me, Mel. You have no idea.”
“Actually, I do, which brings me to my other reason for trying to get in touch with you. Doug and I want to come to Northstar for a few days over Christmas. We have a couple things to talk to you about that should be done in person. I know you’ll like one of them, and I’m hoping you’ll like the second.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“For one, my girlfriend and her family are coming out to the ranch for Christmas.”
“You have a new girlfriend? Is it serious?”
“Very, but she’s not a new girlfriend.”
For a while, Mel said nothing, and he wondered what was going through her mind. Then he decided he didn’t care. She wasn’t his concern anymore, and he certainly didn’t need her approval.
“Do you love her?” Mel finally asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“Not even the slightest hesitation. It
is
serious.”
A knock on the front door yanked his attention from the call. Who would be visiting so late? Standing, he strode across the living room to the front door and peered out the window beside it. When he saw Noah, he immediately opened the door and stepped back to let the boy in, glancing outside into the darkness but seeing neither Lindsay nor her car. Noah must have come by himself, which was worrisome.
“Mel, I have to go. Noah just showed up without Lindsay.”
“Who’s Noah? And who’s Lindsay?”
“Lindsay is my girlfriend, and Noah is her son. I gotta go.”
“Henry, wait. What about Christmas?”
“Why can’t you just tell me over the phone?”
“I already told you. It’s something we need to do face to face. So… what do you say?”
“I need to think about it.”
He hung up right then and regarded Noah with arms crossed and brows lifted expectantly. The phone still in his hand rang, and he glanced at the small screen. Seeing Lindsay’s number, he answered it.
“Is Noah there?”
“He just showed up.” Henry eyed her son, who refused to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to send him home?”
“No. Not until he’s ready.”
“I’ll walk him home when he is.”
“Thank you, Henry.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Henry hung up the phone. This time, he walked into the kitchen and set it on the counter, then gestured for Noah to have a seat on the couch. Henry sat on the couch perpendicular to him, angling his body so he faced the kid, and leaned forward to wait for Noah to speak. Surprisingly, it didn’t take the boy long.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Thank you, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to. That was an incredibly hurtful thing you said to your mother, Noah.”
“I know it was. I didn’t mean to say it, and I didn’t mean it. I never do.” At last, he lifted his gaze to meet Henry’s. “Honest.”
“I believe you, but I’m curious to hear why you think you do it.”
“Because I can’t help it.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because I get so mad and I have to get it out. I hate that my dad says things like that to hurt her, but every time I try to tell him so, he just does it more, and I get angrier until I say the same kinds of things to Mom that he says. I don’t like it.”
“I’m not hearing what I need to hear from you, Noah. Why do you say those things to your mother, who loves you unconditionally, who gives up so much to make sure you have what you need?”
“I don’t know!”
“Try harder.”
“I do it… because I can, I guess. Because I know she loves me even when I’m a jerk to her.”
“In other words, she’s the only one who makes you feel safe enough to vent.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad we cleared that up. I’m also glad to know that you
do
understand and appreciate everything she does for you.”
“Why do
you
think I do it?”
“You’re frustrated without a way to make the person who frustrates you understand that.”
Noah braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t want to spend Christmas with my dad. I’d rather spend it in Montana with Mom and you and Grandma and Grandpa.”
“That’s still the plan, Noah.”
“But, Dad said—”
“Your mother called him back and stood her ground about Christmas.”
“But what about Dad?”
“We’ll leave Northstar a few days early and spend a couple nights in Spokane so you can see your dad. That all right with you?”
“I don’t want to see him at all.”
“Maybe not right now, but you need to. He
is
your father.”
Noah snorted. “Barely. How come he can’t be more like you? I bet you’d be a great dad.”
“Well, thank you,” Henry replied. He didn’t dare say anything else because the innocent comment felt like a punch to the gut, and he wasn’t sure he could hide that it simultaneously made him miss Dylan and hope Noah would accept him as his stepfather should it come to that.