A Barker Family Christmas (10 page)

Beau sighed and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tux. He glanced across the room, to where his father Noah, was having an animated conversation with Herschel Barker. The two had a passion for all living things, one of the reasons the Simon Foundation spent huge amounts of dollars on the preservation of wildlife. At the moment the two men were discussing the plight of the honeybee. Besides Logan Forest and Shane Gallagher, his brother Tucker, and cousin Maverick were gathered around them as was his older brother Jack. Seeing all the Simon boys together, especially at Christmas, had Beau feeling more than a little emotional. Partly because it had been a while since he’d seen them all in one place, but mostly because there should have been one more.

“Any news of Teague?” Cooper asked, eyes still on the view outside. It was as if he was a mind reader.

Beau shook his head, mouth tight. “No. he’s gone dark and no one’s been able to get hold of him for over a week. We thought…” He had to pause. Had to work hard to keep his emotions in check. “I thought he was going to be here, you know? Last time we talked, he was looking forward to coming up for the wedding and spending the holidays with us.”

“He’s where exactly?” Cooper asked.

“Syria, I believe.”

“Shit.”

That was an understatement. “He was offered an assignment but it’s under the radar because it’s being run by the guy who ran his old Seal unit.”

“So he’s not there working for a magazine or paper.”

Beau shook his head. “No. I’m not sure what it’s all about, but he seemed determined to go. Said that it was a good thing that he was doing and not to worry.”

After a brief stint as a Navy Seal, his brother had pursued two passions—writing and photography. And like the adrenaline junkies that the Simon men were, in the span of a few years he’d become one of the worlds most celebrated photojournalists because he would go anywhere for a story. The more danger there was, the more interested he became. It’s what set him apart from the pack. It’s what made him a Simon.

Beau was all for following a dream and living your passion, Lord knows he’d done it in his own life, but the last time he’d seen his brother, something was different. It felt as if a piece of Teague had gone missing. As if he’d left it behind in one of the many hell holes that he’d been to. It had bothered Beau so much, he’d mentioned it to Tucker, but if Teague’s twin knew anything, he wasn’t giving it up.

“Teague said there would be times that he wouldn’t be able to get in touch with us, so we’re not raising any red flags just yet. Jack’s got his ear to the ground as well, but still, it’s hard.” Beau watched his father and thought of his mother. “Mom’s putting on a good show, yet I know she’s worried.”

“That’s normal. It’s her kid. And Syria is a dangerous place to be,” Cooper replied, with a sidelong glance. “But Teague wouldn’t want you thinking about this, wouldn’t want you worrying about him on your wedding day.”

“I know,” Beau replied.

“So how’s about you come with me and I’ll pour you a scotch.”

The men were gathered in a small private room that Shane Gallagher used as an office. A temporary bar had been set up and Beau thought that maybe a shot of something stronger than water would help settle his nerves.

He accepted a Scotch from Cooper. Herschel Barker raised his own glass and tipped his head to the side.

“First off, the twins don’t need to know that this is not apple juice. We’re clear on that?” He glanced at each and every one. “I don’t need them fussing when I’m on the wrong side of eighty and don’t care all that much that whiskey and my medication don’t mix.” His face opened into a wide smile. “Truth be told, this here apple juice is making me feel pretty damn good. Merry Christmas and cheers.”

Everyone raised their glass and took a sip of ‘apple juice’ though the room grew quiet when Herschel cleared his throat, his laughter fading, his eyes serious as they settled on Beau.

The old man squared his shoulders and refused help from Shane as he struggled to his feet. Leaning against the desk, Herschel took a few moments, his knee, obviously painful as he moved a bit until he was comfortable. When he spoke, his voice was low and Beau had to concentrate in order to hear him properly.

“These last few years have been hard on us Barkers. With Trent failing and my twins at a crossroad, there were nights when I couldn’t sleep from worry.” Herschel glanced to his right. “Logan and Shane, you two are part of our family, the girls are truly blessed to have such fine men by their side. I’m not surprised that they chose well. I never worried about Billie or Bobbi. I always knew they’d find their way, but Betty…”

Herschel’s eyes got misty and Beau decided that he didn’t much care for the lump that was now in his throat. Christ, he needed to keep it together at least until after the ceremony.

“My Betty was the one I worried about the most when it came to her personal situation. Not always, mind you. This girl was the fearless child. The child who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘boundary’ or ‘no’ for that matter.”

“She still doesn’t,” Cooper piped up, drawing a few chuckles.

Herschel smiled. “That may be, and I’m glad to hear it because there was a time when the light that made her special, the one that made her different…well that light was snuffed out and I was scared that it would never come back.”

Herschel raised his glass once more and tipped his head. “Beau, you brought her light back to us. You’ve helped her become the woman I always knew she could be. Out of the three girls, she is the most like her mother, Chantal and it’s an absolute joy to see how she lights up when you’re around. Thank you for loving my granddaughter, but more importantly, thank you for believing in her and for bringing her back to us. I appreciate it more than you can know and Trent does as well.” Herschel paused, as if trying for some kind of control. “I have to believe he knows it,” he said fiercely.

“Here, here,” said Logan. “To Betty and Beau.”

“Guys,” Shane said, after setting his tumbler on the bar. “It’s about that time. We should head out.”

Logan helped Herschel back into his wheelchair and the men filed out of the room. His father stopped and gave Beau a bear hug that could have crushed a smaller man and when Noah Simon shook Beau’s hand, he tried to speak, but that damn lump had him mumbling a bunch of crap that didn’t make any sense.

“You’re almost there, son,” Noah said with a chuckle. “You did good.”

Beau watched his father slip out and then turned to his brothers, Tucker and Jack.

“This is it,” Beau said. He was ready. Hell, he was more than ready to make an honest woman out of Betty. Ready for the entire world to know she was his in every way that mattered.

Jack handed each of them a shot glass. “One last drink for a Christmas to remember, another wedding to celebrate, and to Teague, wherever the hell he is.”

The three men stared at each other and then clinked their shot glasses together before downing them whole. Beau savored the sensation as the fire worked its way down his throat. He let Jack straighten his tie, fix his pocket square and then nodded to Tucker, who had a big grin on his face.

“What?” he asked, as they headed for the door that would take them out into the main room of the converted barn where the ceremony was to be held.

“I find it amusing that a guy who’s played in the World Series, a guy who’s been to the Oscars for Christ sake is shitting bricks right now.”

Beau reached for the doorknob. He would have answered his brother with something smart—maybe something sarcastic. (Hell, why would Tucker bring that up at this moment?) But since he was more nervous than he could ever remember being, including the game he’d pitched during the World Series, he kept his mouth shut.

Because his brother was in fact, correct.

Betty Jo Barker stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried like hell not to cry.

Oh God, keep your shit together.

She thought of puppies and rainbows and the most decadent chocolate peanut butter ice cream that there was. She tried to envision Beau in the morning, half asleep with his hair ruffled and that smile that she adored. She even thought of Prince William (okay, so she had a thing for the Royal Ginger), but nothing worked.

She tried everything that she could think of to keep the tears at bay, but it was no use. The damn mascara was going to have to be re-applied.

“Shit,” she muttered, reaching for a tissue. The last twelve hours had been so hard. Anything that could have gone wrong did. The worst being that her custom-made, haute couture wedding dress was nowhere to be found. It’s a wonder she hadn’t lost her mind along with most of the food she tried to eat.

“Are you okay?” her sister Bobbi asked. “Feeling better?”

She nodded, studying herself in the mirror. Her stomach was finally settled, thank God.

“The flu run its course?” Bobbi asked

“Yep. I’m good
.” I hope.

Betty bent closer to the mirror and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “Mother-trucker,” she whispered fiercely, trying her best to clean up the mess.

“Mother-trucker?” her sisters asked at the same time.

Betty shrugged. “Beau bet me a new Louis Vuitton bag that I couldn’t get through the day without swearing. Mother-trucker is my way of getting around that and still being able to collect.”

Billie giggled. “Only you.”

Betty took a step back and exhaled, glad that her stomach had settled a bit.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Bobbi said, coming up behind her and resting her chin on Betty’s shoulder.

For a moment Betty couldn’t say anything. The three girls stared at their reflection in the mirror—her sisters in pale champagne, and Betty in their mother’s wedding gown.

The dress had been handed down from their grandmother, a woman who’d been a huge fan of Jackie O, and this dress had been her homage to her idol. Raw silk, it was a strapless A-line that fell in a gentle line to her feet. The bodice was beaded and a little snug, but Betty didn’t think Beau would mind.

She smiled at the thought. Besides, her breasts nearly falling out of her dress should give some of the old biddies her gramps had insisted she invite something to talk about. It’s the least they expected from Betty Jo Barker, and Betty was all about pleasing people these days.

“I don’t know what I would have done without this, Bobbi. Walk down the aisle in a damn nightgown I guess.”

“It was weird timing, really. I was cleaning out the attic last week and came across some old photos and clothes. The dress box just happened to be on top and for some reason, I grabbed it and brought it home with me.”

“It’s like Mom knew, you know?” Billie said, softly. “It’s like she’s here with us.”

Throat tight, Betty nodded. She’d been thinking about her mother a lot lately. Wondering what the woman would have been like if she’d lived past her twenties. Would they be friends?

“Damn,” she muttered. “There goes my mascara again.”

She let her sister fix her face this time and concentrated on keeping her shit together.

When Bobbi was done, Betty cleared her throat. “I just want you girls to know how much it means to me that you’re both standing up for me on my wedding day. With Dad not being able to come, well it means the world.”

Billie looked at Bobbi, dabbing at her face. “Where else would we be?”

Betty Jo took a moment. “This could have gone another way. I was so nasty to you Billie, for so long. Blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault. I need for you to know that the way I treated you wasn’t what I felt inside. I never hated you, even when I acted like I did. I just didn’t…”

Now all three girls were dabbing at their eyes again.

“I didn’t know how to deal with what happened and I sure as hell didn’t know how to heal myself. Not for a long time, anyway.”

Billie hugged Betty Jo fiercely. “I’m glad you found Beau. Glad that he’s the one who healed you, but Betty you’re one of the strongest women that I’ve ever known and there’s no way in hell you would have let those assholes beat you. No way at all.”

A knock at the door interrupted the girls and they turned as Eden and Grace Simon entered the room.

Beau’s mother smiled, her eyes soft as she gazed at Betty Jo. “Oh, honey, you look stunning. And that dress, it’s perfect.”

“Thank you,” Betty Jo replied.

“Beau told me that you were wearing your mother’s gown.” Eden walked over and gave her hug. “She had impeccable taste and you have to know that wherever she is, she’s smiling down at you, so very proud.” Eden glanced at her sisters. “Of all of you.” Eden leaned closer. “We should go. Beau’s waiting.”

Beau’s sister, Grace—sporting purple hair and a mega watt smile—offered a hug and kiss. “So, about your friend, Matt,” Grace whispered.

“No,” Betty Jo said with a laugh. “Oh my God, no. He’s off limits.”

“Just thought I’d ask. He’s…” Grace grinned. “He’s so hot and angsty. Like he’s hiding secrets. Is it true he’s got kids?”

“Who told you that?” The gossip surrounding Matt Hawkins was relentless. The fact that it was gossip and most of it untrue didn’t really seem to matter all that much to those who liked to spread it.