Natasha murmured. “I won’t.” She set Freddie down to step inside and close out the cold and snow.
“You missed my play. I was an angel.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We made the halos in school and got to keep them, so I can show you how I looked.”
“I’d like that.”
Certain everything was back to normal, Freddie took her hand. “I tripped once, but I remembered all my lines. Mikey forgot his. I said ‘A child is born in Bethlehem,’ and ‘Peace on Earth,’ and sang ‘Gloria in selfish Deo.’”
Natasha laughed for the first time in days. “I wish I had heard that. You will sing it for me later?”
“Okay. We’re baking cookies.” Still holding Natasha’s hand, she began to drag her toward the kitchen.
“Is your daddy helping you?”
“No, he had to go out. He said he’d come back soon and bake some. He promised.”
Torn between relief and disappointment, Natasha followed Freddie into the kitchen.
“Vera, Tash is back.”
“I see.” Vera pursed her lips. Just when she’d thought Natasha might be good enough for the señor and her baby, the woman had gone off without a word. Still, she knew her duty. “Would you like some coffee or tea, miss?”
“No, thank you. I don’t want to be in your way.”
“You have to stay.” Freddie tugged at Natasha’s hand again. “Look, I’ve made snowmen and reindeers and Santas.” She plucked what she considered one of her best creations from the counter. “You can have one.”
“It’s beautiful.” Natasha looked down at the snowman with red sugar clumped on his face and the brim of his hat broken off.
“Are you going to cry?” Freddie asked.
“No.” She managed to blink back the mist of tears. “I’m just glad to be home.”
As she spoke, the kitchen door opened. Natasha held her breath when Spence stepped into the room. He didn’t speak. His hand still on the door, he stopped to stare. It was as if he’d conjured her up out of his own chaotic thoughts. There was snow melting in her hair and on the shoulders of her coat. Her eyes were bright, teary.
“Daddy, Tash is home,” Freddie announced, running to him. “She’s going to bake cookies with us.”
Vera briskly untied her apron. Whatever doubts she’d had about Natasha were eclipsed by the look on her face. Vera knew a woman in love when she saw her. “We need more flour. Come, Freddie, we will go buy some.”
“But I want to—”
“You want to bake, we need flour to bake. Come, we’ll get your coat.” Businesslike, Vera bustled Freddie out of the room.
Alone, Spence and Natasha stood where they were; the moment stretched out. The heat in the kitchen was making her dizzy. Natasha stripped off her coat and laid it over the back of a chair. She wanted to talk to him, reasonably. That couldn’t be done if she fainted at his feet.
“Spence.” The word seemed to echo off the walls, and she took a deep breath. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“I see. Now you’ve decided talking’s a good idea.”
She started to speak, then changed her mind. When the oven timer went off behind her, she turned automatically to take up the hot mitt and remove the latest batch of cookies from the oven. She took her time setting them on the cooling rack.
“You’re right to be angry with me. I behaved very badly toward you. Now I have to ask you to listen to me, and hope you can forgive me.”
He studied her for one long, silent moment. “You certainly know how to defuse an argument.”
“I didn’t come to argue with you. I’ve had time to think, and I realize that I chose a very poor way to tell you about the baby, then to leave as I did.” She looked down at her hands, her tightly laced fingers. “To just run away was inexcusable. I can only tell you that I was afraid and confused and too emotional to think clearly.”
“One question,” he interjected, then waited until she lifted her head. He needed to see her face. “Is there still a baby?”
“Yes.” The blank puzzlement in her eyes became awareness. Awareness became regret. “Oh, Spence, I’m sorry, so sorry to have caused you to think that I might have…” She blinked away tears, knowing her emotions were still too close to the surface. “I’m sorry. I went to Mikhail’s to stay with him a few days.” She let out a shaky breath. “May I sit?”
He only nodded, then moved to the window as she slid behind the table. Laying his palms upon the counter, he looked out at the snow. “I’ve been going out of my mind, wondering where you were, how you were. The state you were in when you left, I was terrified you’d do something rash before we could talk it through.”
“I could never do what you thought, Spence. This is our baby.”
“You said you didn’t want it.” He turned again. “You said you wouldn’t go through it again.”
“I was afraid,” Natasha admitted. “And it’s true I hadn’t wanted to get pregnant, not now. Not ever. I’d like to tell you everything.”
He wanted badly, much too badly, just to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her that nothing mattered. Because he knew it did matter, he busied himself at the stove. “Do you want some coffee?”
“No. It makes me sick now.” She smiled a little when he fumbled with the pot. “Please, would you sit down?”
“All right.” He sat down across from her, then spread his hands. “Go ahead.”
“I told you that I had been in love with Anthony while I was with the corps de ballet. I was just seventeen when we became lovers. He was the first for me. There’s been no one for me until you.”
“Why?”
The answer was much easier than she’d believed. “I’d never loved again until you. The love I feel for you is much different from the fantasies I had for Anthony. With you it isn’t dreams and knights and princes. With you it’s real and solid. Day-to-day. Ordinary—ordinary in the most beautiful way. Can you understand?”
He looked at her. The room was quiet, insulated by the snow. It smelled of warm cookies and cinnamon. “Yes.”
“I was afraid to feel this strongly for you, for anyone, because what happened between Anthony and me…” She waited a moment, surprised that there was no pain now, only sadness. “I had believed him, everything he said, everything he promised me. When I discovered he made many of the same promises to other women, I was crushed. We argued, and he sent me away like a child who had displeased him. A few weeks later I discovered I was pregnant. I was thrilled. I could only think that I was carrying Anthony’s child and
