CHAPTER 17

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" I don't believe I've seen you this excited," Max mentioned after he'd apologized for not assisting her up the veranda stairs. One arm was in the sling, and in his free hand, he carried a cloth bag filled with gifts.

"This is my first real Christmas," Louise explained. "For people without a family, Christmas doesn't mean much." That's how it had always been for her, just another day. But not this year. She lifted her hem away from the snowy steps and looked up with eager, sparkling eyes. "Oh Max, I can't wait to see the tree. Will there be candles on it?"

Once she had believed life couldn't offer a better moment than the party in her honor on the day the prospectors burned the schoolhouse. But the night at the Belle Mark with Max had eclipsed the party in her honor. And now she was positive that her first Christmas Eve with a real family would be the best evening in her whole life.

Max smiled. "There'll be candles on the tree. And ornaments and strings of popped corn and cranberries. We'll stuff ourselves on Ma's famous divinity and the fudge Gilly always brings. Gilly will play carols on the piano, and we'll try to sing along. We'll all eat and drink too much, and go home loaded with gifts."

She held her breath, listening, then slowly exhaled. "Oh! It sounds so wonderful. Like everything I ever imagined, but better."

At the door, Max inclined his head in a gesture that was almost a bow. "I'm sorry to ask you to knock, but … "

He was being overly solicitous, but instead of annoying her, his attitude seemed proper tonight. This was a very special occasion, and she wanted it to feel that way in every respect.

Before she rapped on Livvy's door, she brushed damp snowflakes off the shoulders of Max's best coat before she lowered the hood of her cape and wiggled to dislodge any clinging snow.

"Oh my, don't we look grand!"

Good Lord, he was handsome, peering at her with those delfi-blue eyes from beneath the brim of a rakishly tilted Stetson. Tonight he wore a starched white shirt and a dark tie and vest over good wool trousers and his Sunday boots.

She didn't look too shabby herself. Tonight she wore the stylish green taffeta that Gilly had sewn up for her. Yards and yards of material floated around her new shoes and swept toward a handsome bow topping her bustle. The green taffeta crackled and whispered in a wonderful way when she walked.

This was the first time ever that she had owned a dress that wasn't too big here and too small there; the green taffeta fit her perfectly. She had a lovely new dress, she was going to a party, and this year she would have a Christmas. Thrilled with everything, she'd taken extra care with her appearance. She'd rubbed lotion into her cheeks and throat, and she'd brushed her hair until it gleamed before she coiled it on top of her head. She had even cut a sprig of holly and pinned it at the back of her hair for a festive touch.

The door swung open, and Livvy beamed and wished them a merry Christmas. "I thought I heard you two out here. Come in, come in." The black velvet Max had purchased in Denver had been put to good use, sewn up into a lace-trimmed dress that was soft yet distinguished. And for tonight's celebration, Livvy had pressed waves in her graying auburn hair where it curved back toward the knot on her neck.

Looking at Max's mother now, it was hard to believe that only yesterday Livvy had stood in Louise's kitchen wearing a soiled apron, peeling potatoes, and telling a hilarious and slightly risqué story about a bull that had gotten into the bunkhouse.

"You look wonderful!" Louise said.

"Oh my, so do you." Livvy hung their coats on the rack. "Turn around so I can see how the bow turned out. Well, I declare. Gilly could make a living with her needle!"

Sunshine ran out of the parlor and halted abruptly. "Oh, Aunt Louise!" Her eyes rounded. "You look beautiful!"

Laughing, Louise waved aside the compliment. "Well, now, look at you! You're the one who's beautiful tonight. Spin around and let me see."

Hair and ribbons flying, Sunshine spun fast enough to flare black velvet around her stocking-clad calves.

"Mama trimmed my dress in the scraps from yours. See?" She touched her collar, then held out green taffeta cuffs for Louise to admire.

"I don't suppose you'd like to put these gifts beneath the tree, would you?" Max asked, smiling.

"Oh yes, I would. But first, look up there. It's mistletoe! You have to kiss Aunt Louise, and I get to watch."

"So do I," said Livvy, winking at Sunshine.

"Only a fool would miss an opportunity to kiss a pretty woman." Max slipped his good arm around her waist and grinned. "Looks like we've been ambushed."

Laughing, Louise wound her arms around his neck, careful not to bump the sling across his chest. But when she saw Max's expression, her laughter hitched on a quick intake of breath. There was something different in his eyes, something she had never seen there before. Something deep and clear and intense that made her gasp and caused her knees to tremble.

"You have beautiful eyes," he said in a low, gruff voice. "Tonight your eyes are more green than hazel, as green as the early spring grass."

"Good heavens," she whispered, amazed. "I didn't know I had any beautiful parts." And until now she hadn't heard him express the pretty words she knew were inside him. Certainly she'd never imagined that she might inspire such words. Lordy, Lordy. For the rest of her life she would remember that Max McCord had said she had beautiful eyes, as green as the early spring grass.

Her hips pressed to his, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. And suddenly she wished they were home alone in their bed.

Leaning forward, Max brushed warm lips across hers, a kiss so soft and fleeting that it was almost a tease. When she opened her eyes, he was staring at her. Then he moved his hand on the small of her back and drew her tighter against his body, and he kissed her again, this time with a deep hunger that suggested he'd forgotten they had an audience.

"Well, my, my," Livvy murmured, using another of her phrases that said nothing but in this case managed to convey interest, amusement, and approval.

Sunshine clapped and laughed, then caught Louise's hand. "Come look at my present to you and see if you can guess what it is." Her eyes danced with excitement. "You'll never guess!"

Before Louise allowed Sunshine to pull her to the parlor, she asked Livvy, "Do you need any help with supper?"

"Everything's under control. When you're ready for coffee or something cool, and a break from a certain imp's chatter, come back to the kitchen." She winked at Max. "I had to move the pies you brought yesterday to make room for Dave. He's taken over the pantry to make his special Christmas punch. He's been waiting for you and Wally to serve as official tasters."

Before Sunshine tugged her into the parlor, Louise glanced over her shoulder at Max. He returned her gaze, wearing that same intense, almost smoldering expression. She couldn't decipher what it meant, but the smoky speculation in his eyes sent a warm shiver thrilling down her spine.

Then both he and Livvy turned to look up the staircase.

*

"I have half a mind not to go downstairs at all!" Leaning toward the mirror above the vanity table, Philadelphia patted one of the curls on her forehead, then turned her head from side to side to admire the flash and sparkle of the diamond earrings her father had given her last Christmas. She expected him to give her a matching bracelet tomorrow when she and Wally drove in to have Christmas dinner at home.

"Your mother insisted on ham tonight even after I mentioned that I prefer turkey."

"We've always had baked ham on Christmas Eve."

She glanced at him in the mirror, irritated that he stood before the window with his back to her. So rude.

"My family has turkey on Christmas Eve." Thinking about diamonds led her to wonder if Wally had repaid her father for her wedding ring. She supposed it didn't matter. "I'm sure your mother means well, but really. Ham?" Looking into the mirror, she studied the set of his shoulders, trying to judge how far she could take any criticism of his mother. Perhaps it was enough to plant a seed here and a seed there.

On the other hand, she was in a strange and rebellious mood. Before this tedious evening ended, she might tell Wally exactly what she thought of his judgmental family.

Leaning to the mirror, she pinched color into her cheeks, then ran her fingertips along the silk roses trimming her neckline. "I haven't decided yet if I'll go downstairs."

She'd like Max to see her looking as beautiful as she did tonight, but it was an affront to decency to expect her to be in the same room as Low Down. She had promised herself it would never happen again.

"I insist that you join the family tonight."

Insist? Her eyebrows rose and she turned on the vanity bench. "I beg your pardon," she said coolly.

"Youinsist?"

He continued to stand with his back to her as if there were something fascinating down below in the dark snowy yard.

"Aside from the fact that I'd find it humiliating to have Christmas alone while you're here upstairs, we need to discuss your refusal to make yourself part of the family. There are times when I wonder if I really have a wife."

"And sometimes I wonder if I really have a husband, since you're never here! You leave for town before I'm awake, and you don't return from Max's place until I'm ready to retire for the evening, and then you go out to the barn. On the weekends, you abandon me and return to Max's, and you stay there all day long!"

Now he turned and looked at her for a long moment before he lifted a piece of kindling from her fireplace and lit a cigar. She hated it when he smoked in her room. Eventually, she would have to abandon hints and address the problem directly, which irritated her. It was so much nicer when people anticipated her wishes.

"If you want me home in the evenings and on the weekends, all you have to do is ask your father to lift the restrictions on Max's employees. Howard will listen to you."

"If I've told you once, I've told you a dozen times. I don't interfere in Daddy's business." She did not like the way he was looking at her through the nasty smoke curling up from his cigar. Like she was to blame for this, that, and the other thing.

"Then nothing is going to change. I understand why you don't want to accompany me to Max's place when everyone goes there to help on Sundays. But you need to understand that holding yourself aloof places you outside this family. I don't like that, and I'm sure the family doesn't like it."

She stiffened in disbelief. "Have you forgotten what your brother and his doxy did to me?" Standing abruptly, she presented her profile and thrust out her stomach. "Take a good look, Wally." Mrs. Dame had let out the seams as far as possible, but even so, the gown's waist was uncomfortably snug.

"I haven't forgotten anything. How can I when you keep reminding me how badly you've been wronged."

She stared. "What on earth has gotten into you tonight?" When reason failed, tears generally succeeded.

She blinked until she felt moisture wet her lashes. "Why are you saying mean things to me? Why are you being so hateful?"

Ordinarily he rushed to comfort her, but astonishingly he remained at the window. She had to find one of her own handkerchiefs to dab her eyelids.

"It will take time for our situation to seem normal and for everyone to feel comfortable. But that time will never come if we don't make a beginning."

"You don't mean we. You mean me!"

"All right, I mean you. Hiding or refusing to speak to Max when he comes here doesn't make things easier for anyone. All it does is keep the situation in front of us all."

Which was exactly why she let Max see her only occasionally. She wanted him constantly aware of "the situation." She wanted him always thinking about her and feeling sick with guilt.

"What kind of family life can we hope to enjoy if you refuse to be in the same room with Louise? We must get past this, Philadelphia . I know it isn't easy for you, but you need to accept how things are and make the best of it."

Fury burned circles on her cheeks. "Low Down has the manners of a creature raised in a pigsty, the grace of a peasant, and all the charm you might find in a brothel! She's gauche and utterly lacking in morals, without a shred of decency. I will never spend one minute withher unless it is absolutely and totally unavoidable!"

"Her name is Louise. Not Low Down. Not that creature." Never before had he spoken so sharply or stared with such cold eyes.

Astonishment dried her tears. "My God. You're defending that, that…"

"It's Christmas Eve. A night to celebrate love and family." His gaze narrowed. "I expect you to join me in the festivities, and I expect you to be cordial to all members of my family. That includes my brother and his wife."

"Oh my heavens." She stared at him as a terrible thought occurred. "Did you purchase gifts for Max andher?"

"We are giving Max a leather vest, and Louise a pair of fleece-lined gloves."

"We?" Her voice spiraled into shrillness. "You signed the tags from both of us? You had no right to do that!" Furious, she stamped her foot, but that wasn't enough. Frantically she looked around, then grabbed a china figurine from the top of the bureau, and hurled it to the floor. "Now look what you made me do!"

The shattered pieces raised genuine tears to her eyes. "I loved that piece!"

When he didn't come to her, didn't bend to pick up the pieces of china or offer to glue them, she peeked at him through her lashes. Incredibly, he'd turned his back again and stood gazing out the window. She could not believe it.

He drew on his cigar and blew a smoke ring at his reflection in the panes. "It's getting late. After you pick up your mess, we'll go downstairs."

A scream of outrage and fury rushed up her throat, but she checked herself. She needed to figure this out.

What had changed his attitude? When had his puppy-like adoration become judgmental?

It had to be the bank. He wouldn't dare treat her like this if he feared her father or if he believed her happiness essential to his future.

She half sat, half fell onto the vanity bench. She could not spend thirty minutes with her father without having to listen to paeans of praise for Wally's success at the bank. Wally had a remarkable grasp of finance and the financial markets. Wally's tact and diplomacy made him a natural for dealing with difficult patrons. No one could have learned all the facets of banking any faster than Wally McCord. She was sick and tired of hearing about Wally's exploits at the bank. It was almost as if he were her father's favored son and she was merely the wife he had married.

Good God. Her eyes widened, and she stared at the back of Wally's head. That was exactly the problem. When she married Wally, she had given her father the son he had always wanted.

Wally may have received his position at the bank because she wanted it so. But he had swiftly proven his worth and firmly established himself in her father's dazzled eyes.

Shocked and tight with resentment, she stood, then kicked the broken pieces of the figurine beneath her bed.

The first thing was to endure and get through tonight. Next, she had to endure and get through the delivery of the baby. Until then, she had to endure an unwanted marriage to the wrong man.

But once the baby was born and she no longer needed this Judas who had usurped her place in her father's heart, then, step by step, she would shed a marriage she didn't want and seize the marriage she did want.

As for Wally McCord, he held his position at the bank because she had wished it, and he could lose that position because she wished it. In time, he would discover this.

Refusing to speak to him, she slapped his arm away and walked to the top of the staircase as if he were invisible and she didn't see him beside her. She had lifted her skirts to descend when she saw Max and the creature standing in the foyer beneath a sprig of mistletoe.

Max had one hand on Low Down's cheek and he gazed into the creature's eyes as he had once gazed into hers, with tenderness and the smoky heat of desire. Philadelphia inhaled sharply and felt the blood rush to her face as he drew the creature hard against him and kissed her as if Sunshine and Livvy were not looking on with encouragement and approval. He kissed the creature as if she were a beautiful, desirable woman and not a coarse vulgarian trespassing where she was not wanted and didn't belong.

What was it about this plain graceless woman that made Max's eyes soften as he watched her follow Sunshine into the parlor? Why on earth would Wally rise to such a person's defense? Mystified, Philadelphia struggled to find an answer. But she could think of no reason why anyone would give Low Down a second glance or a second thought.

The creature's hands and cheeks were chapped and wind-reddened, her hair dressed plainly and unimaginatively. She hadn't the faintest notion of style or etiquette. Her background was deplorable, her morals shocking. There was nothing whatsoever appealing about this no-account person. If she had not tricked Max into marriage, Low Down would never have attracted a man.

Philadelphia seethed as Low Down turned in the parlor doorway and gazed back at Max with shining eyes. Even a fool could see that she loved him. It was in her gaze, on her flushed cheeks, at the trembling corner of her lips.

What the stupid creature didn't grasp was that Philadelphia could take Max away faster than she could snap her fingers. Max didn't care two jots about a nobody like Low Down. He had to pretend in front of his family, and Philadelphia understood this. But he loved her, and she could have him anytime she wanted. When the time was right, she would.

Pasting a bright smile over her anger, she lifted her skirts to descend the stairs. "Merry Christmas," she called gaily. Max had always liked her whimsical moments. He'd teased her about her daredevil ways, but she knew he found her boldness charming.

Ignoring Livvy's wary regard, she swirled into the foyer, letting a lacy edge of petticoat flash beneath rose-colored satin skirts. She whirled to a stop before Max, bringing with her the rose petal scent of her signature fragrance.

Dimpling up at him, she opened her fingers across her bosom and noticed the mistletoe. "Oh! We're standing beneath mistletoe." Expectancy and a breathless suggestion hung in the observation. She let him see the wicked twinkle in her eyes, let him recognize an open dare.

Without looking, she sensed Livvy's shocked disapproval and the heat of Wally's anger. Well, Wally had wanted her to behave naturally, to pretend there was no Situation with a capital S. He'd wanted her to join the family and not run away from Max. In fact, Wally's advice worked to her advantage. Kissing Max beneath the mistletoe would punish Wally and remind Max of what he had given up. If she touched her tongue to his lips, if she could be that daring, he would understand that she still wanted him and that she knew he wanted her, too.

She moved forward until she could feel the heat of his body, then she lifted her face and closed her eyes.

And finally, finally, his warm hard hand curved around her waist for the first time since that terrible night when he had betrayed her.

"No woman should be ignored beneath the mistletoe," Max said smoothly. Deftly, he turned her beneath his hand to face Wally. "Little brother, your wife is awaiting her Christmas kiss."

His hand dropped from her waist, and he moved away. The only thing that softened her fury was recognizing the strain in his voice. He had wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn't risk it in front of his mother and brother.

Stepping forward, Wally bent and brushed chill lips across her cheek before he turned to his mother.

Philadelphia didn't care that he was angry. It served him right. Tossing her curls, she followed Max into the parlor. Immediately she knew she'd made a mistake.

Low Down turned from admiring the tree. "Howdy, Philadelphia . Merry Christmas."

The creature didn't smile, didn't lower her eyelids or nod her head in a partial bow. There was not the slightest hint of deference in her posture or expression. She stood before the Christmas tree with Sunshine at her side and gazed at Philadelphia with bland curiosity, like a cow waiting to be slaughtered.

Well, Philadelphia was happy to oblige.

Lifting a critical eyebrow, she scanned the creature's dress. "Ah, green. The color of envy. It's a difficult color to wear," she explained to Sunshine. "Green makes most people look so sallow and sickly, but you can see that for yourself." She directed a smile of withering pity at Low Down. "Good heavens! What on earth is that awful thing hanging off the back of your head? Something you dug out of the snow in your yard?"

"Actually, it is."

Max started to say something, but Philadelphia cut him off. "How amusing. I wonder what you'll dig out to wear next? Twigs? Dead soggy leaves?" If she hadn't been a refined lady, she would have mentioned horse droppings.

The creature's eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head as if considering a reply. Then her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled down at Sunshine. "Well, let's see. What might I dig out of the yard next? If I found a horseshoe, I could wear it as a bracelet. Or as a tiara. If I found a length of rope, I could trim my cape or maybe use the rope for a belt."

Sunshine laughed in delight. "If you found a dead rabbit, you could make a fur collar."

"I think we should go help your grandma in the kitchen." She extended her hand. "Now, if I found a cow bell, I could wear it as a necklace, and then you would always know where to find me." She paused in front of Max and met his eye before she and Sunshine left the parlor, prattling on about things to be found in a yard.

"You have no quarrel with Louise," Max said quietly. "Leave her alone."

"How gallant of you to defend your Low Down." She spat the name out of her mouth as if it tasted bad.

"Put your anger where it belongs. It's me you despise, not Louise."

It occurred to her that this was the first time since the night before he left for Piney Creek that they had been alone together. This opportunity might not come again soon, and they were wasting it talking about Low Down.

"Oh Max. You know I don't despise you." She lowered her hands to her stomach, deliberately directing his attention to her pregnancy. "If only—" She didn't know what she might have said next if she'd had the chance, but Wally appeared in the doorway.

Wally looked from her to Max. "Dave is waiting for us to sample his punch."

"Excuse me." Max dipped his head to her, then walked out of the parlor.

Wally stared as if he'd eavesdropped on every word she had spoken, then, without speaking, he turned and followed Max.

And there she stood, deserted in an empty parlor while everyone else talked and laughed in the kitchen.

It was so rustic to entertain in the kitchen, for heaven's sake. So crude and low class. And it was so unforgivably rude to abandon a guest. Well, she had intended to allow herself to be persuaded to play the piano tonight, but why should she entertain people who treated her so insultingly? She wouldn't.

Eventually, Livvy announced dinner—ham—and everyone sat down. Not a hint of decorum prevailed.

They laughed about the evening Max had broken his arm, teasing him and Low Down, too. And there was some unseemly tale about a bull getting into Livvy's bunkhouse. Dave and Max exchanged comments about the mustache she had convinced Wally to grow.

Tonight Low Down didn't sit in awkward silence as she had the last time she and Philadelphia were forced to share the same table. The creature chattered as constantly as Sunshine. Her eyes sparkled with pleasure, and her laughter came frequently.

Slowly Philadelphia began to grasp the point Wally had made earlier. Low Down had become a member of the McCord family in a way that Philadelphia had not. The insidious creature was building a shared history, was claiming a role in new family stories.

Throughout supper, Low Down and Gilly chatted easily about sewing and visits back and forth to fit the green taffeta. She teased Dave about some incident involving a broken guitar string. She even told some foolish story about Wally falling off the hay sled that made everyone laugh. As for Livvy, she praised Low Down's pies to the sky and reminded the creature of plans to drive into town after the first of the year.

Shocked and disbelieving, Philadelphia began to realize if there was a belle at this party, it was Low Down.

Too stunned to speak, she sat in resentful silence through the lighting of the tree candles and the dispersing of gifts. To her disgust, she watched Low Down turn teary over a supposedly pretty rock that Sunshine gave her. A rock! Which the creature promised to display on her parlor mantelpiece. How did Max endure this woman? She was an embarrassment.

Low Down's hardened background made any tears suspect. Yet every gift brought a gush to her eyes and a hitch to her voice. It was a clumsy performance, and Philadelphia doubted anyone was deceived.

People didn't weep with joy over a rock or a songbook. The creature didn't even play the piano. But she wiped tears from her eyes and bubbled with appreciation and thank-yous.

When Philadelphia could endure no more of this farce, she pushed her gifts off her lap and stood.

Placing one hand at her waist and raising the other to her temple, she excused herself, "I'm exhausted, and I don't feel well."

Wally silently accompanied her up the staircase to the door of her room. "Can I bring you anything?"

"Nothing. I want to leave early tomorrow."

Her father would have turkey for dinner and a few valued clients as guests. She would serve as hostess, of course. The conversation would be decorous and refined. Later, she would open her gifts in the family parlor and find delights more interesting than a wool scarf and embroidery patterns.

"Do you like the cradle I made for you?" Wally asked.

"Well, the cradle isn't really for me. It's for the baby. But I liked it." Why would he think she'd be excited about a piece of furniture that wasn't even for her? The cradle did, however, explain what he'd been doing in the barn every night until after midnight .

"Thank you for the vests and the shirt studs." Leaning forward, he kissed her on the forehead, his lips warmer and more forgiving than they had been beneath the mistletoe.

She watched him descend the staircase before she went into her bedroom and closed the door. The first thing she saw was the shattered figurine. This was the worst Christmas Eve she'd ever spent.

*

Max gently shook Louise awake. She was dozing on his shoulder, her arms wrapped around the gifts piled in her lap. "We're home."

"Already?" Yawning, she gave her head a drowsy shake.

"It's after midnight ," he said, smiling. "Dawn is going to arrive in an eyeblink."

"And I will turn from a princess to a hay-pitching peasant," she said with a laugh. "Oh Max. I truly did feel like a princess tonight. Tonight was the most wonderful, the most beautiful, the absolute best evening of my life! It's so amazing. I don't think I've received three gifts in my entire life and then in the last few months, I've received a box full. First from the boys at Piney Greek, and then tonight from your family."

Starlight glistened on damp eyes. "Do you think everyone liked the things we gave them?"

"Absolutely. You know, I was wondering… did you receive a gift from me?"

She turned her face toward the house. "I didn't expect anything. Just having tonight is enough. I'll never forget it."

"Well, damn it all. I must have forgotten to take your gift to Ma's." He grinned at the look of surprise she turned on him. "You go on inside where it's warm. I'll put the horses away and be there in a few minutes."

"I could help."

"No need. I managed to hitch them, I think I can un hitch them. It'll just take some time."

"I'll wait. That will give me a chance to look at each gift slowly and think about the person who gave it to me."

"Louise? Thank you for the book and the razor. I always wanted an ivory-handled razor."

Her face lit with delight. "Livvy suggested the razor and when I saw it, I knew you'd like it! And the teacher at the school helped me order the book. She said you'd like that, too!"

"I know I will, I've read Twain before. Stoke up the fire and heat the coffee. I'll be there as soon as I can."

He wouldn't forget tonight, either. Observing her joy had brought an odd ache to his heart unlike anything he remembered experiencing. And he'd glimpsed a reflection of his feelings on the faces of his mother and sister. Even Dave and Wally had smiled with soft eyes at Louise's excitement when she opened her gifts. The McCords had made this a wonderful Christmas for her. His family wasn't the kind who could say straight out that things had changed and that they respected and admired who and what she was. But they could show her—and him—in a hundred small ways. This Christmas had been for her.

When he entered the kitchen, he noticed she had removed the sprig of holly from her hair, but she still wore the green taffeta dress that displayed her splendid figure to lush advantage.

"Would you like something to eat? I saved back one of the mince pies for us."

"Lord, no. I'm so full I won't be able to eat for days."

"Well, then." Her eyes sparkled and danced. Truly, he'd never met anyone with eyes as beautiful or as expressive. "Give me my present."

Laughing, he returned to the mudroom and reached to the highest shelf where he withdrew a flat box from beneath a stack of coats and blankets.

"What can it be?" Sitting down, she took the box and turned it between her fingers, shook it next to her ear, then ran her palms over the top as if she could sense what might be inside.

He brought her a cup of coffee. "Open it. You're making me crazy."

"No, I have to guess what it is. I think it's… an apron. Is that it?"

"Louise, open the box."

Finally, she lifted one corner and peeked inside, then burst into laughter. "It's a nightgown!"

"A skinny nightgown," he said, grinning with pleasure.

"A beautiful nightgown," she whispered. Standing, she shook it out and held it against her body. "There's real lace around the neck and the cuffs! Did you see that?"

"I saw it," he said, laughing. "Now sit down again because we're going to have a little ceremony."

Going back to the mudroom, he withdrew the cursed nightgown from its hiding place and carried it back to the kitchen.

"I'll make rags out of the material," Louise said.

"I'm not taking any chances that this thing will turn up in my bed ever again." He opened the lid of the firebox and stuffed the cursed nightgown inside. And stuffed and stuffed, making it appear more bulky and more unwieldy than it was until she was laughing and cheering for him to win the battle.

"And now," he said after replacing the lid over the burning nightgown. "A toast." He raised his coffee cup and so did she. "Out with the old nightgown and in with the new!" He saw her gazing back at him with soft, shining eyes. "But not tonight," he added in a husky voice.

"No," she whispered. "Not tonight."

She came to him and wound her arms around his neck. Tonight there was no Philadelphia , no baby, no guilt or feelings of betrayal. Tonight was enchanted, a night set apart from the life they would return to in a few short hours. Tonight was theirs alone, a night for joy and tenderness and the greatest gift of all, the giving of themselves.