A Christmas Family Miracle. Rebecca Winters

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were to hear they were a couple, the press would make it into a scandal that would follow her son for the rest of his life. There’d be questions as to whether Philippe was the son of France’s great sporting hero, or the son of Raoul Broussard—Eric’s brother and a celebrity in his own right among the mountaineers of Europe.

      She couldn’t do that to her precious boy. He was an innocent child who didn’t deserve to grow up under an ugly cloud of vicious lies and rumors.

      No … it was a dream she had to bury. The big question now was how to rein in her emotions until she left France with her son.

      “You’re so immersed in thought, I was afraid you’d forgotten I was here.” His deep voice insinuated itself inside her skin.

       Raoul, Raoul.

      Her eyes opened to a sky that had deepened into darkness. He’d leaned closer to her, bringing the familiar male scent she loved. Their breath curled in the night air and mingled. “To be honest, I was enjoying the silence. It’s heavenly out here, like we’re being pulled across a fantastic moonscape.”

      “You sound happy. Shades of the old Crystal are coming out in you more and more.”

      “The old Crystal?” she questioned in surprise.

      “Oui, ma belle. The first time I met you, you were this happy, sunny girl whose spirit pervaded our entire household. But slowly I saw a difference come over you and we both know why. Eric or no Eric, Philippe is the luckiest boy in the world to have a mother like you.”

      That’s what he’d brought Crystal out here to tell her? He wanted to compliment her for being a good mom? He didn’t want to …

      Crystal had to stop what she was thinking. “Thank you,” she said in a shaky whisper.

      “He’s inherited your naturally sunny disposition. When he’s around, he’s like a breath of fresh air.”

      His emotion when he talked about her son shook her to the depths. There was a sudden tension-filled silence brought on because she didn’t know what to say and shouldn’t have come on this sleigh ride with him.

      “As long as you were so honest with me at Chez Pierre the other day,” he continued, “there’s something I should have told you while we were talking. It’s something I should have told the whole family after Suzanne died.”

      Her body went taut. She was almost afraid to hear what he was about to tell her. Her gaze shot to his. She noticed a nerve throbbing at the corner of his mouth. “What is it?”

      “When the results of the autopsy came through, it was confirmed she was pregnant, but neither of us knew it at the time.”

      Crystal tried to smother her horrified gasp.

      “For a long time I was angry at the world for such a senseless tragedy,” he rasped. “But mostly I couldn’t forgive myself for not being with her when she needed me. I wasn’t able to save her. Me—the great mountaineer!”

      “Raoul—” she cried in anguish for him and grasped his hand. He and Suzanne were going to have a baby…. Crystal knew all about guilt and suffered fresh pain for him. “No wonder you shut off your feelings for such a long time.”

      “I’m afraid I did more than that!” His eyes flashed. “I resented Eric for his cavalier treatment of you. Here he had a wife and son, and he didn’t value either of you the way he should have.”

      Crystal had no idea all this had gone on inside over the last few years.

      “When he died, I was in even more despair over the guilt I felt for having judged him when it wasn’t my place.”

      “You don’t need to tell me about guilt,” she murmured.

      “There’s more,” he groaned out. “There were even times when I resented you.

      She swallowed hard. “Why?”

      “Because you had your son and it was a reminder to me of everything I’d lost. Perhaps now you understand why Philippe is doubly precious to me.”

      She nodded. Oh, yes.

      It explained why he’d sounded accusatory when he’d first arrived in Breckenridge. She now understood why the monthly phone calls from Raoul had been so terse and unsatisfactory over the last year. He’d kept their conversations short before asking to speak to Philippe.

      She’d been hurt by his manner and feared more of the same if she decided to phone him. So she hadn’t done it, but it had cost her son so much unhappiness.

      Besides losing his wife, Raoul had lost his unborn child. Philippe had lost his father. On some deeper lever the two of them had sensed each other’s loss and had reached out for comfort. The bond between them ran fathoms deep.

      Raoul’s confession had cleared up so many questions, she realized.

      “I’m sorry for being so hard on you, Crystal,” he said against the tips of her fingers before kissing them.

      “You think I don’t understand?”

      He raised his head. His eyes were dark blue pools of light. “That’s the point. I know you do, and I’m humbled by it.” This time when he kissed her lips, it was a kiss of gratitude that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. It explained his other kiss with all its pent-up frustration and pain.

      Oh, yes, she understood it all.

      When he quickly relinquished her mouth, she realized the sleigh had stopped. She looked around. All she could see was Raoul’s car. “I didn’t realize we were back. The others have already gone home.”

      A quiet smile broke out on his handsome face. “We’re due at Vivige’s for a party.”

      “I didn’t know that.”

      “This is their surprise for the children. A celebration slumber party. Let’s go, shall we?”

      In a few minutes they’d driven to the cousins’ roomy chalet for hot chocolate and Vivige’s special Christmas plum cake.

      Philippe was so happy he looked like he would burst. “I wish we could take a sleigh ride every day. Don’t you, Mommy?”

      She kissed his frozen cheeks, avoiding Raoul’s gaze that seemed to follow her everywhere she turned. “It was wonderful, but if we did it every day, it wouldn’t seem so special.”

      “Come on, Philippe,” Albert called to him. “We’re going to play table tennis. Papa says it’s the men against the women.”

      “Goody!”

      Their playroom on the second floor was a child’s dream. Bernard had everything set up. “Albert? You’ll play against Lise. Philippe against Fleur. I’ll beat your mother.” Everyone laughed hard. “Raoul against Crystal. Then we’ll rotate partners three more times. May the best men win.”

      “Papa the girls cried out in protest before giggling.

      For

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