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d on Chad’s arm. Leigh was struck by the evident love these people felt for each other.
Within a half-hour Leigh felt she had known the Dillons all her life, so welcome did they make her feel. The house was warm and reflected the friendliness of its owners. The floorboards creaked under the scatter rugs, with the pleasant sound of a house well used and well loved. Leigh had missed having a permanent home. Her father’s military career had kept them moving frequently throughout her childhood and youth. She had always envied the stability of families like the Dillons.
The fire popped cheerfully on the hearth while they sipped on a hot cranberry drink, the recipe of which was immediately supplied by Amelia at Leigh’s offhand wish that she had it. Sarah had been given a graham cracker, which she was gumming happily. Amelia had tied an apron around the baby’s neck to better protect her dress.
The living room was comfortably decorated with family memorabilia and hand-crocheted afghans and pictures of Chad in various stages of maturity. A huge Norfolk pine stood awaiting decoration in front of one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Amelia didn’t refuse Leigh’s offer to help with getting “dinner” on the table. Leigh set the table and whipped the potatoes while answering Amelia’s friendly barrage of questions concerning herself and Sarah. While Stewart held Sarah on his lap, Chad was sent to the attic to bring down the boxed Christmas ornaments.
“While you’re up there, bring down that high chair, please,” his mother asked him.
He had to make several trips, but by the time he finished the chore, the meal was ready. “Wash up, Chad, and carry in the roast, please. Leigh, if you’ll get that gelatin salad out of the refrigerator, I’ll get Sarah situated in the high chair.”
“I’ve never put her in one before. She’s not sitting up by herself yet.”
“You leave it to me,” Amelia said confidently.
In the kitchen, Chad washed his hands at the sink while Leigh took off her borrowed apron and reached into the refrigerator to get the salad. The gelatin mold had been placed on a heavy crystal serving platter and required both hands to hold. Chad stepped in front of her as she made her way to the door.
“You look beautiful today, Leigh,” he said softly. “My parents like you, just as I knew they would.”
“I like them, too,” she answered lifting the heavy platter.
Unexpectedly his arms were around her waist, and he kissed her lightly despite the heavy platter that created a barrier between them. The sensations awakened by his touch threatened not only the already short lifespan of the salad, but her own determination to resist him. He was creating inside her a need for him that was consuming.
“Chad, get in here with that roast,” his mother called from the dining room.
“And you feel as good as you look,” he said in a low voice. He backed away, dropped his hand, grinned wickedly, and went to do his mother’s bidding. The gelatin was quivering unduly when Leigh set it on the table.
* * *
“I still don’t think it’s right,” Amelia repeated sanctimoniously. Ignoring her, Stewart continued to rub bourbon whiskey onto Sarah’s tender gums. “I don’t approve of hard liquor in any form, and especially for a baby.”
“This is for medicinal purposes,” Stewart said. He didn’t seem at all perturbed over Sarah’s slobbery chewing of his finger. “I did this to Chad when he was a baby. And I’ve seen you ladle whiskey and honey down his throat to stop a cough.”
Amelia had the grace to look embarrassed. “Leigh’s going to think we’re terrible.”
“No, I won’t,” she laughed, feeling relaxed after the hearty dinner and pleasant conversation the Dillons had kept up during the meal. “I guess I’m going to have to buy a bottle of bourbon.” She and Chad were sitting close together on the sofa. His arm was draped across her shoulders. Lazily his fingers trailed up and down her arm. She tried not to think about his audacious behavior in the kitchen. Each time she did, he seemed to know what was on her mind and would wink at her slyly.
Even during the sumptuous meal, he had tormented her. While he listened with rapt attention to his father’s report on the cattle business, he had massaged her leg just above her knees with a talented hand. It did her no good to dodge that hand. It seemed to be equipped with radar and she was its target. Finally she surrendered, and he seemed content to idly stroke her knee while it was pressed to his beneath the snowy tablecloth.
“Tell me again how you put her in that high chair,” Leigh now said to Amelia.
“Adjust the tray, if possible, close to her chest. Then tie her in with a tea towel or whatever is available. Most high chairs have a strap that’ll go between her legs so she won’t slide out the bottom.”
“Sounds to me like it would be easier to teach her to sit alone,” Chad said with maddening logic.
Leigh and Amelia both cast him disparaging looks. He and Stewart only laughed. Chad treated his parents with respect and kindness, running and fetching for both of them. But they also knew how to tease. They must have had many happy times while he was growing up, Leigh thought. That they were proud of him went without saying.
“Uh-oh,” Leigh said when Sarah’s back began to arch and she started crying. “I think her good mood just ran out.”
“Why don’t you take her upstairs for her nap,” Amelia said, standing up to show Leigh the way.
“I’ll go, too,” Chad said eagerly.
“You stay where you are,” Amelia snapped. “Your daddy wanted you to watch the football game with him.” Meekly Chad dropped back onto the sofa.
Leigh took the squalling baby from Stewart and followed Amelia up the stairs. “This was Chad’s room,” Amelia said, stepping from the long hallway into a large bedroom. “As you can see, I’ve never changed it.” The room was crowded with sports pictures, trophies, banners, and pennants. A pair of snow skis and a tennis racket were standing in one corner. A football helmet was hanging by a hook on the paneled wall.
