Santa's Kiss [Book Three in the Ladies of Legend Christmas Anthology] Page 5

  "I hate to ask you to come out in this mess. I just don't know what else to do. I'm grasping at straws."

  "I'll take care of it, buddy. Don't worry on this end."

  "Thanks. I appreciate it.” Graham clicked off.

  Clint flipped his phone shut. He glanced at Dawn,

  "What's wrong?” She was visibly shaken as if she had already guessed the conversation.

  "Jane's in labor and Graham thinks it will help to have you there."

  "You'll take me?"

  Clint nodded wishing reality hadn't intruded on them.

  "Oh, thank you, Clint. I don't know what I would do without you. You're my best friend in the whole world."

  Dawn sprang from the bed. Clint watched her taut bottom sway as she walked across the bedroom floor. With the Corgi at her heels, Dawn disappeared out the door.

  Good old, dependable Clint. As faithful as that damn dog. His heart in his throat, Clint climbed out of bed and stood stark naked in the dimly lit room.

  He might be Dawn's “best friend in the world” but she was more than that to him. Tonight had only confirmed the fact.

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  Chapter Five

  When Clint took the frantic call from Graham, Dawn's world disintegrated. Her twin sister was all she had left. Jane, who seemed so self-assured and in control, was the one person she admired. Nothing could happen to Jane. Nothing.

  If she was a religious person, she might know how to say a prayer. As it was, she could only silently repeat a simple plea, “Please don't let anything happen to Jane or the baby."

  Dawn dressed quickly in brown corduroys and a rust-colored cashmere sweater. She slipped into a pair of hiking boots and then took Little Bits downstairs, letting him out to do his business. Quickly, Dawn put down more water and food, hoping she didn't have to leave Little Bits for long, but preparing for the eventuality just in case.

  Clint pulled on his boots, surveying her from under lowered eyelashes. She noticed his perusal. Her hands trembled and to do something with them, she scraped her hair back from her face, confining it into a pony tale with a hair band. What was he thinking? Did he regret making love? She couldn't cope with the hero worship she had seen in his eyes earlier. Didn't he know she was a fraud?

  "My coat's in the car,” Clint said. “Do you have one?"

  "Yes, it's in the hall closet."

  He nodded and stood up. She didn't know what she felt about Clint, seeing him there, knowing they had just been intimate and knowing he cared. Her body sweetly aching from sex, Dawn forced herself to concentrate on Jane, not Clint and whatever conflicting feelings he was eliciting.

  "I'll bring in the dog and then we can go."

  "I'll meet you in the living room."

  Dawn couldn't believe the snowstorm had set in so quickly. The front sidewalk was almost impassable. They waded through the snowdrifts, finally reaching Clint's Escape. It took him fifteen minutes to clean off the snow and ice. She offered to help, but he insisted she sit in the SUV as it warmed while he scraped the windshield, a small hole becoming big enough to see through.

  Why didn't she help clear the snow? Why did she always allow herself be treated like a princess? She didn't deserve it. Not anymore. Maybe she never had. It was a hard notion to face. Dawn Smith was nothing but the characters she portrayed on the screen. She was like Gloria, the pampered heiress she had played in No Time Like the Present.

  When had unreality turned into reality?

  A blast of cold air filled the SUV when Clint opened the door and climbed inside. Dawn took a deep breath to steady her jittering nerves. She glanced his way once before strapping on her seat belt.

  Bless Clint's heart for being there when she needed him. He angled out of his parallel parking space and maneuvered onto Second Street where two ruts in the snow marked the only path. Snow blew so hard Dawn could hardly see beyond the headlights. They passed the dark Emporium and turned into the parking lot of the Legend Memorial Hospital.

  "I've never seen it snow like this,” she said, breaking the strained silence.

  "It is one of the worst years on record for snowfall."

  Dawn looked askance at Clint. “Thanks for bringing me."

  "No problem."

  He had shut down. She didn't blame him. She had acted pretty stupid tonight. High maintenance. Demanding. God, what did he see in her anyway?

  Dawn sucked in the cold, snowy air when she stepped from the SUV and sank to her ankles in snow. Clint was there again, taking her hand, helping her through the snow-packed parking lot and into the brightly lit hospital lobby.

  Legend Memorial Hospital bustled with activity. Dawn shied from the crowd; certain everyone would recognize her and beg for an autograph. She had tugged a wool cap over her ears for the ride, and along with her puffy down coat, it bought her protection from peering glances.

  In truth, she supposed no one was interested in her. She needed to get over this idea that the world revolved around her. In Legend, Coach Roberts was better known than the anonymous woman by his side.

  After a short search, they found Jane in a maternity triage room on the second floor.

  "She's going to surgery in a few minutes. That's why she's not in a regular birthing room,” Graham explained at the door before he stepped aside to let Dawn enter alone.

  Seeing her twin sister hooked up to IVs and mysterious monitors, appearing pale and defenseless against the white sheets wrenched Dawn's heart.

  "Looks like you're about to have a baby,” she said, tugging off her cap and shaking out her hair from its ponytail. She put on a cheerful smile. Being an actress had its advantages.

  "Dawn! Oh, Dawn, you came!"

  "Do you think I'd stay away on Christmas and miss the birth of my nephew?” Swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat, Dawn crossed over to the hospital bed.

  "I thought you were busy.” Jane began to cry. She tried to swipe away the tears but a tube got in her way. “Thank you for coming. I've been so worried about you."

  Dawn plucked a tissue from a nearby box. “Ah, sis, there's nothing to worry about.” She dabbed the tears from Jane's eyes. “I've been concerned for you and the baby."

  Jane's mouth curved into a smile. “Now I know you're okay, everything will be fine."

  "But the C-section..."

  "Old Doc has done plenty of them,” Jane said with a shrug. “My pelvis is just too tiny for this big boy."

  A whisper of agony flickered in Jane's eyes. “Labor pains,” she said. “Will you hold my hand?"

  Jane squeezed Dawn's hand while the initial contraction strengthened. A beeping monitor spiked. Heavens. Dawn was as out of her element here as Jane would be on a sound stage. The tubes and screens frightened her, but her twin was taking all of it in stride and keeping a remarkable smile upon her lips.

  With the same wavy blond hair, blue eyes and dimpled smiles, the Smith twins had once been adorable Shirley Temple look-alikes. Older by minutes, Dawn was always the dominant twin. Her out-going personality had been too strong for Jane's shy nature. Coupled with an intense drive for success, Dawn became the popular twin, seeking and receiving adulation first among the citizens of their small town and then the wider world outside Legend.

  Why did it now seem Jane had the lead? Even writhing through a labor pain, she seemed focused and content—happy with herself.

  But of course, she had Graham. She was about to become a mother. Jane's life had a new definition, a purpose that Dawn's lacked.

  Dawn shut her eyes, gripping Jane's hand, riding the wave of the contraction with her sister. Damn. She wasn't going to succumb to more self-pity. That's all she had done lately. Hosted a pity-party with herself as the star.

  When she opened her eyes, Dawn realized Jane was crying again. “Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry it hurts so badly.” Grabbing another tissue, Dawn patted Jane's cheek.

  "It's not that,” Jane said through a watery smile. “It's the hormones and maybe the pain med
ication. It's making me sentimental."

  Dawn laughed. “That's not like you."

  "I just want you to know, before they take me to delivery, that you've always been my idol."

  For once in her life, Dawn was speechless.

  Jane grinned and patted Dawn's arm. “I know. It sounds strange. I was so stubborn and determined not to be like you that we had a lot of differences growing up."

  "You weren't always the easiest sister to put up with,” Dawn said with a grin. “You never did anything I told you to do."

  Jane rolled her eyes. “Remember, I had to put up with you too."

  The atmosphere between them, that had been cluttered and often acrimonious for years, cleared in an instant. Dawn stood near the bed, holding Jane's hand, strangely content with her twin for the first time in her life.

  Later when the nursing staff came, Dawn gave her sister a fond hug and a good luck kiss. She left Graham and Jane together, wistfully wishing she might find the kind of love the two of them shared.

  To be fair, she had wanted other things from life and had sacrificed true love for expediency and a powerful industry husband when she married Randy. Lesson learned. Or maybe she was older and hopefully wiser. She sighed as she made her way back to the waiting room.

  Clint prowled the space between the chairs. He was the only one in the gloomy room. Without speaking, she watched him until he came to a halt in front of the candy machine. Suddenly he turned. Their gazes met and her whole body tingled, recalling the way he had touched and kissed her.

  Did she really want what Jane had with Graham? Or did fame and fortune, the bright lights of Hollywood, still beckon?

  * * * *

  Clint paced back and forth in the waiting room, worried about Jane and his mind reeling over the events of the past few hours. The queasiness in the pit of his stomach told him he had made a mistake opening himself up for another disappointment. He had been okay for over a year, getting on with his life, putting his love for Dawn behind him.

  Thanks to making love to the girl of his dreams, he was right back in the quagmire of unrequited love.

  Slicking back his hair with his fingers, Clint paused at a vending machine to study the candy bars and chips. So much for a merry Christmas.

  A sixth sense told him Dawn was near. He turned to see her standing at the entrance, a bewildered look in her eyes and despair written all over her pretty face. His pulse jumped.

  "Is something wrong?” He crossed the room, longing to take her hand and comfort her. Something stopped him.

  "Jane's gone into surgery,” Dawn said as she sat down in one of the chairs.

  Clint sat beside her. “Is everything okay?"

  To his surprise, Dawn took his hand, squeezing it tight. “Strange. She was mostly worried about me, not herself."

  "What's so strange about that?"

  "I don't know.” She looked bemused. “Jane and I never got along well even though we were twins. Sibling rivalry, I guess.” She took a deep breath and Clint saw her eyes well with tears. “She told me she admired me."

  Clint covered her hand with his. “What's not to admire?"

  She tilted her head and looked at him. “I don't think there's much to like about my life at this moment."

  "I disagree."

  "I've told you about Randy and that child bride of his.” She straightened. “I can't get an acting job. My last boy friend committed suicide right after our date. My life pretty much sucks."

  Her hand was cold. She gripped his, linking them with warm familiarity, as if she needed him. Clint grew uncomfortable. What should he say to her? He had counseled his share of kids over the years. Maybe he could say something to help.

  "You can change that surely. I've found my life won't suck for long unless I let it."

  "How do you mean?” She stared at the door, despondent, her pale complexion flawless even in the dim light of the waiting room.

  "Do something about it. Change something. Do things differently,” he encouraged.

  "But that's just it,” Dawn said, turning to gaze up at him intently. “I don't know how to resurrect my career."

  "You can if you want to.” Clint chanced to touch her blond hair, falling wildly around her face. He brushed the silky strands back from her temples. His fingers tingled at the contact. “You can do anything you set your mind to—if you want it badly enough."

  "You have more faith in me than I have in myself,” she whispered.

  He lifted a shoulder, trying to make light of the subtle surge of intimacy between them. “You know I've always loved you."

  His thoughts slipped out. For some reason, he knew it was right to say the words aloud. To get them out into the open. Maybe he could deal with his feelings, especially if she told him to go to hell.

  "Oh, Clint, you shouldn't love me."

  "Let me decide that.” He was tired of talking. Tired of seeing the unhappiness in her eyes. He wanted to pull her close and never let her go. Instead he lowered his head and gently kissed her lips.

  A flashbulb popped just inches from their faces, and then the rapid click, click, click of a digital camera snapping photos filled his ears.

  "What the?” Clint jerked back his head and rose to shield Dawn from the man with the camera.

  "Who's your new lover boy, Miss Smith?” the man asked, angling around Clint's body, trying to capture another picture.

  "Get the hell out of here,” Clint growled and moved to block the man's shot.

  "Free country, mister. Freedom of the press.” He continued to snap pictures. “What do you have to say about Chris Newton's death? Did you suspect he was suicidal?"

  Clint's heart slammed in his chest. The reporter was like a buzzing, stinging bee unable to be swatted. Dawn climbed to her feet, and Clint reached to steady her.

  "Get me out of here,” she begged. Her voice was flat.

  Clint grabbed her hand and tried to shoulder past the smaller man, but he blocked their escape.

  "What do you think of Candice Price's new pregnancy?"

  "Back off, buddy, or I'll sock you in the nose."

  "I'll call the police."

  Clint laughed. “I doubt Deputy Branson will put me in jail. You're in Tennessee, not politically correct California."

  Dawn grabbed Clint's arm. “Clint, don't. He's not worth it."

  "You don't want me to report that threat in my magazine.” The reporter was equally as adamant.

  "Clint, let's go."

  Clint looked down and saw Dawn's lower lip trembling. She was shaking. Although spoiling for a fight, his protective instincts won over his fighting ones. He steered Dawn toward the door. In the hall, he clutched her elbow and they picked up speed, dodging nurses and hospital staff as they scurried to the front door. The reporter followed them, taking photos all the while. Clint could almost hear his condescending laughter of triumph.

  Once in the parking lot, Clint hoisted Dawn into the Escape and circled around front to his door.

  "You can't run. Now that I know she's here, I'll find you. I'll get my story,” the reporter predicted, coming within spitting distance of him.

  It was too much. Clint spun to face the jerk. He hated the gloating look in the reporter's eyes. Without thinking, he shoved the guy hard and the man toppled backwards into a snow bank, his camera flying high into the air and landing in the snow.

  Feeling justified, Clint crawled into the front seat, turned the ignition and backed slowly out of the parking spot.

  "Where are we going?” Dawn asked, shaking, her arms hugging her body. “We can't go back to Aunt Harriet's."

  "No, but we can go to my house."

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  Chapter Six

  Clint lived north of town in a rustic log cabin on five acres of land. Dawn had never seen it. With the mountains as backdrop and the snow swirling around it, Clint's home looked as if it was in a charming snow globe.

  The drive from the hospital had been dangerous, requir
ing all of his concentration. That was fine by Dawn, for she had no words to say, her mind numb. The ride had been strained for more reasons than the blizzard.

  Coming inside from Clint's attached garage and standing in the dark mud room, Dawn felt cold and brittle, more because of her raw emotions than because she had come away from the hospital without a coat.

  "Here, let's get the lights on and fire going.” Clint followed behind her flicking on every lamp to bathe the rooms in welcoming light and then leading her through a large, modern kitchen and into a forest-green great room with a vaulted ceiling and stone fireplace.

  Dawn stood, looking around, while Clint triggered the gas logs and a fire whooshed into flames.

  "Beats bringing in wood on a night like this,” he said with an awkward grin.

  Dawn remained paralyzed in the middle of the room, her posture stiff and legs immobile.

  He shot her a worried glance. “I'll fix something to drink. Coffee, wine or something stronger?"

  "Coffee will be fine,” she managed to say.

  "Okay.” He started back to the kitchen. “Pull your boots off and stick your feet up on the hearth."

  Dawn did as she was told, sitting on a leather ottoman and removing her boots. The simple action made her feel much better.

  Clint's home was comfortable and masculine, filled with overstuffed leather sofas and chairs and decorated with male things from an honest-to-goodness stuffed deer head on one wall to some sort of rifle over the mantle. His football trophies were displayed on a shelf by the window along with several team photos. An orange and white University of Tennessee blanket was thrown over one of the sofas.

  Here clearly was the home of a man who knew himself and what he wanted. A man comfortable in his own skin.

  What had Clint said about attitude? It was up to her to change her life. She wasn't quite sure how she was supposed to do it. All she knew was she was tired of being afraid and depressed.

  Suddenly chilled, Dawn stood and snatched the UT blanket, draping it around her shoulders. She sank down onto one of the sofas and pulled her legs up on the cushion. The fire popped and crackled, casting cheery warmth throughout the room.