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Jacob’s hands fell away from her. ‘Are you still that keen to get away from me for Christmas?’
‘No! I just...’ I’m desperate to get back to our daughter. ‘Ivy will be waiting. Besides, I put a lot of work into setting up your perfect Christmas, you realise. I want your family to be able to enjoy it, if at all possible.’ She tried to insert some levity into her words, even though inside, her heart ached.
With a groan, Jacob rolled out of bed, naked despite the cold morning air, and crossed to the window. ‘I think I can see the ploughs working their way up from the bottom of the hill.’
Clara swallowed. That meant that she’d be able to get home to Ivy soon, and the relief she felt at that realisation was huge. She just wished it wasn’t also tinged with the sadness of having to leave Jacob.
‘So,’ he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the blanket back over him. ‘You’re the planner. What happens now?’
Nothing like an approaching snowplough—and ex-in-laws—to get the brain working fast in the morning.
‘Well, if they’re still at the bottom of the hill we probably have an hour or more before the roads are clear enough to drive. You should call your family, see where they are and if they’re willing to drive over now. I can get things going downstairs—get the turkey in the oven and so on. Most of the food is ready prepared so it won’t take too much effort to get the meal cooking. I can’t imagine the staff I hired are going to make it here now, anyway, but we can do it between us, I’m sure.’ She wished she had her handbag with her, with her planner inside. She needed her lists. But they had been the last things on her mind when she and Jacob had retired to the bedroom the night before... She checked her watch. ‘Lunch is going to be rather later than is traditional at this point, but at least it will happen. The presents are all ready, under the tree, and the... What?’ she asked, suddenly aware that Jacob was barely containing his laughter. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘You,’ he said, grinning. ‘You sitting there, naked, in total professional mode.’
‘You think me being professional is amusing?’ Clara asked, bristling.
‘No, I think it’s hot as hell,’ he admitted. ‘But when I asked what happens now...I wasn’t talking about the perfect Foster family Christmas. I was talking about us.’
His grin faded away as he finished speaking, and she stared down at her hands to avoid his gaze. Talking about work was so much easier than discussing their mess of a relationship. Of a marriage.
‘Unless you already knew that and were avoiding the subject.’ There was no laughter in Jacob’s voice now.
‘No, I wasn’t. It’s just that whatever happens next... It’s up to you, Jacob.’ Apparently there was no putting it off any longer. ‘I know you haven’t had much time, and we were, well, busy for a lot of it. But have you thought about whether you want to meet Ivy?’
Jacob blew out a long breath. ‘Yeah. It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about since you told me. Well, on and off.’ He flashed her a smile that told her she’d been a pretty good distraction.
‘And?’
‘Honestly? I’m scared, Clara. I never planned this. I didn’t even get the usual nine months to get used to the idea.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘But...’ She held her breath, waiting for him to continue. ‘I’m not willing to give this—us—up. Not yet. Not without trying.’
But trying wasn’t good enough. ‘Jacob, if you step into her life you can’t just—’
‘Step out again, I know,’ Jacob said. ‘But I’ve got an idea, if you’re willing. A compromise.’
Clara gave a slow nod. ‘Okay. Go on.’
He wrapped an arm around her bare waist and pulled her close. ‘Bring Ivy and Merry up to the castle for Christmas. We don’t need to tell her, or my family, anything just yet. Just...give me a chance to meet her, spend time with her. See if I can manage that without a full-blown panic attack.’ He made it sound like a joke but Clara suspected it wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. ‘Break me in gently. Then we can decide if we should tell her.’
We. We can decide. Clara liked the sound of that. The two of them. Just like it should have been from the start.
She nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll call Merry.’
‘In a moment.’ Jacob darted forward, capturing her lips with his own again. ‘How long did you say we had until the roads were clear?’ he asked between kisses.
‘Sadly, not long enough,’ Clara said.
He kissed her one last time, hard and deep and full of promise. Then he pulled away with a groan. ‘Then I suppose we’d better make ourselves respectable.’ With a wink back at her, he strolled towards the bathroom, whistling.
Clara gave herself one whole minute lying back in bed, replaying the events of the last day in her head. Maybe, just maybe, this could all work out okay. Maybe she didn’t have to choose between her two futures any more. Maybe they could be a real family at last.
She smiled to herself. Maybe this would be the best Christmas ever, after all.
Then she sat up and called Merry.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JACOB STOOD AT THE open front door of the castle and watched as the large SUV his father had hired weaved its way up the hill towards him. Heather had texted earlier to say they were waiting at the hotel down the road for the snowploughs to finish clearing the way, and that they had coffee and Christmas cake and carols so Christmas was off to a brilliant start. He wondered if they’d met Merry and Ivy already.
Somehow it seemed that, despite the huge odds stacked against it, he might actually pull off the perfect Christmas after all.
Perfect for more than just his dad, now that Clara was there too. Jacob was apprehensive still, about meeting Ivy. But Clara had promised to introduce him just as ‘Jacob’—no pressure, no expectations, just a chance to get to know the little girl he’d helped to make, if not to raise.
And if that went well...who knew? If Clara thought he could be a father, a real husband again, maybe it was possible.
For the first time since his father’s diagnosis, the future looked like a place he could bear to live in, even if he knew the inevitable losses coming his way would still be soul-destroying. With Clara at his side, he had faith that he could make it through them.
Everything seemed possible when Clara was with him.
‘Are they nearly here?’ Clara appeared from the kitchen, a festive apron still wrapped around her waist, and she wiped flour from her hands onto it. ‘Have I got time to wash up?’
‘Nope.’ Jacob pointed down the path. ‘That’s Dad’s car. They’ll be here any moment.’ The excitement thrumming through his veins was only partly to do with the festivities and pulling off the whole plan. Mostly, he suspected, it had something to do with Clara standing beside him, smelling of cinnamon. He hadn’t felt this kind of excitement at Christmas since he’d been about ten.
‘Oh, no. I look a state.’
‘You look beautiful.’ He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed the top of her slightly floury hair. ‘What have you been making?’
‘Last-minute mince pies,’ she said, absently. She peered out of the door. ‘There’s Merry’s hire car too, just behind them.’
Merry. And Ivy. Jacob’s chest tightened and he focused on breathing in and out, creating steam in the frosty air. He could do this. ‘Nearly time, then.’
‘For our perfect Christmas.’ Clara’s small hand sneaked into his and he felt her warmth throughout his body.
‘Ours,’ he echoed.
The SUV pulled up onto the driveway with a crunch of snow. ‘And here they are! Merry Christmas!’ Stepping out into the glorious winter’s day, he helped his mum down from the car and held her tightly before hugging Heather and shaking his father’s hand.
‘We
made it!’ Heather said, beaming. ‘Jacob, this place is incredible!’
‘Isn’t it? Come on in. Clara’s waiting to see you all!’ He realised that the second car had pulled up beside the castle too. ‘And we’ve got some other special guests today too.’
Clara’s business partner, Merry, stepped out of the car. And behind her walked a small girl. The girl who must be Ivy. His daughter.
A chill settled into Jacob’s bones as he watched her smile and bounce out into the snow.
She looked exactly like Heather had as a child.
* * *
‘Mummy!’ Ivy yelled and raced across the snow into Clara’s arms. Dropping to her knees, Clara held her daughter tight and, just for a moment, refused to think about what might happen next. It was Christmas morning and she was with her daughter. That was all that mattered.
‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Clara murmured. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’
‘Clara?’ Jacob asked, and she could hear the nervousness in his voice.
‘We should get everyone inside the castle. It’s cold out here,’ she said, straightening up to stand again. ‘But first... Ivy, this is Jacob. He’s the one who planned this whole Christmas in a castle for his family and for us.’
‘And then your mum organised it all,’ Jacob said, still standing a metre or so away.
