Always a Mother. Linda Warren

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СКАЧАТЬ athletic director at a high school. The last four years he’d been building a great team, and if everything fell into place as he’d planned, they were going to win the state championship again this year. Football was in his blood and probably always would be.

      Just as Claire was.

      Through the window, he could see her sitting on the sofa, the letters strewn around her. At forty-three she still looked beautiful, a gorgeous blonde with soft brown eyes. She had a kind heart and a sweet nature. That’s probably what he loved most about her. And she made him feel young, powerful and all male. Her breasts were fuller now, as were her hips, and she could still heat him up just as quickly as she had back then.

      Back then…they’d been through so much. But in truth Claire had been through so much more than him.

      December 26, 1984

      CHRISTMAS WAS MEAGER at their house. He’d given Claire earrings and she’d bought him a pullover sweater. They’d spent the day at Bunny’s. Sarah was struggling to breathe and wanted only Claire to hold her. Dean took care of Sami, but he couldn’t nurse her, so he had to hand the baby to her, too. Claire was exhausted and he became more aware of that than ever, maybe because he was with them the whole day.

      The next day he started practice for the upcoming bowl game. That evening when he came home, Claire was sitting on the living room floor nursing Sami in one arm while Sarah nestled into her side with a breathing mask over her nose and mouth, taking a treatment. Claire’s hair hung limply around her shoulders, sour milk stained her blouse and she looked as tired as he’d ever seen her.

      He quickly sank down by her and took Sarah and finished the treatment. As he held his little girl, patting her back, she went to sleep. He carried her into their bedroom and laid her in her crib.

      The apartment was cramped, with one bedroom, a living area and kitchen combination, and a small bathroom. He and Claire had a crib on each side of their bed, and that was a problem. She wasn’t getting any sleep.

      As he returned to the living room, he saw Sami was through nursing. He scooped her out of her mother’s arms and burped her.

      Claire’s head fell back against the cushions. “I’m so tired,” she murmured.

      Dean carried Sami to her crib and within minutes she was asleep. After partially closing the door, he went back to Claire. He gathered her into his arms and placed her on the sofa.

      Kissing her gently, he said, “Just go to sleep, honey.” He reached for an afghan and covered her.

      She snuggled into the cushions. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

      “I won’t.”

      He turned off the lights and watched her for a moment before he made his way to the bedroom and closed the door. Both babies awoke during the night. He changed them, and gave Sarah a bottle after which she went back to sleep. But Sami was different. He carried her to Claire, who nursed her without really waking up.

      Early the next morning he got up, made breakfast, then took it to Claire on a tray.

      She stirred, glanced around and quickly sat up. “Where are the girls?”

      “Asleep.”

      She yawned. “What time is it?”

      “About six.”

      Her eyes went wide. “You let me sleep all night?”

      “Yep. And here’s breakfast.” He pointed to the tray. “Scrambled eggs, toast and your favorite orange marmalade.”

      “Oh, my. I feel like a queen.”

      He sat beside her and took her into his arms. “You’re my queen.”

      She rested her head on his shoulder. “You have practice today and I know you had to get up with the girls.”

      “I can go on very little sleep.” He kissed the side of her face. “Football season will be over in a week, and classes won’t start for a couple more weeks. I’ll be here to help out more.”

      “Thank you. I love you.”

      He just held her and stared at the small Christmas tree they’d positioned on an end table. They had to put it up high because Sarah was walking and she’d pull it over in no time. Claire had decorated it with red bows and shiny balls, along with their special first Christmas ornament and this year’s new ornament. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. Staring at the sparse tree, he vowed one day he would give her everything.

      But “one day” always seemed to be out of his reach.

      DEAN CONTINUED TO WATCH Claire through the window, and as he did, a frisson of fear shot through him. Why was she reading the letters? Could it just be nerves? Or was it something more? Suddenly he had to know.

      He opened the door and stepped in.

      “DEAN.” Claire wasn’t expecting him, and for a moment she was speechless.

      “I was worried about you.” He moved some letters and sat beside her, kissing her cheek. “Feeling better?”

      “Mmm. How did you know where to find me?”

      “A lucky guess.” He tucked her hair behind her ear and her heart contracted. He was so handsome. Threads of gray shone in his dark hair and his features were leaner, more mature. She loved him so much, but how were they going to get through this? How was she going to tell him?

      “You didn’t have to come. I’m fine. I just needed some fresh air.” It was the first time she’d lied to him.

      “Do you think you have the flu?”

      “I’m not sure.” She bit her lip to keep from telling another lie. “Did you get Bunny settled?”

      “Yes. She’s all moved in.”

      “She should be living with us. We have room.” When Dean had gotten a job teaching, they’d bought their first house. Claire loved the older homes on the tree-lined boulevards in the old Tarrytown area near the heart of central Austin, so they’d bought a two-story Victorian that had been built in the early 1900s. After they renovated, it was the perfect home, roomy and with lots of character. They still lived there.

      Dean shrugged. “You know how Mom is. She likes her independence. And she said we need some time alone. We’ve never had that.”

      “Mmm.” Claire glanced at the letters, feeling her chest close up. It wasn’t going to happen now, either. How did she tell him that once again she’d screwed up? Although she wasn’t sure why she was blaming herself. Dean was involved, too.

      He followed her glance. “Why are you reading the letters?”

      She swallowed. “To remember—the good and the bad. To remember dreams that don’t come true.”

      “Claire, your dream is coming true.”

      “I…” Her throat locked because of what she had to say.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ