Love Inspired December 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Rancher for Christmas\Her Montana Christmas\An Amish Christmas Journey\Yuletide Baby (25 page)

“No need to apologize.” He sank onto the sofa and watched as she took a seat in the rocking chair. “Breezy, we have to accept this. I have to work on letting you be my partner in raising the girls. You have to make this your home.”

She seemed pale in the dim light of the lamp and her eyes shimmered. She eventually nodded. “I know.”

“A home where you stay,” he pushed.

Because that was still his fear, that the twins would get attached and she'd leave.

“Why do you think I'll leave?”

“I know you aren't used to staying in one place.”

She shook her head, leaning a little in his direction. “Yes, that's been true for most of my life. But for most of my life I didn't have a reason to stay. But your trust issues, those are your issues to work through.”

“Trust issues?” So in a matter of days she thought she knew him?

“I've been here almost a week and...it's a small town.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and studied him for a minute.

“Yes, it's a small town.” Suddenly he was uncomfortable with the direction this conversation had taken.

“I know about your mom, and I know that when she left, you took care of things. You were just a boy and...”

He held up a hand. “Don't start picturing me as a little boy in need of a mother. I was twelve and I survived.”

“Of course you did,” she said. “You and I have that in common. And now we have those two little girls counting on us to help them survive.”

He stood, because it was time for him to go. He wanted to be upset, because leave it to a woman to think a man had to get in touch with his emotions in order to deal with life. He wasn't upset, though. Because Breezy pushed him in a way that few people did. The twins needed her strength. Maybe he did, too.

“Jake, I'm sorry.” Her hand reached for his. He looked down at those fingers with pale pink polish holding on to his, not letting go.

“Don't be,” he finally answered. “We'll get through this. But I'm just about talked out so I'm going to head to the house and get some work done.”

“I'll see you tomorrow.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before he went out the door.

Jake got in his truck and headed back to the ranch, to work left undone. His phone rang as he drove. A county deputy was on the other end, letting him know they'd checked out a few leads on the break-in but so far weren't any closer to figuring out who might have been at Lawton's the other day. They had one print, a half print actually, and it wasn't in the system.

Great. One more thing to worry about.

Chapter Nine

B
reezy and the twins were gone. Jake walked through Lawton's place two days later, looking, listening. He could admit to a good case of the nerves settling over him the minute he'd walked through the door, calling out to Breezy and the twins and getting no reply. Her car was in the drive. He'd checked the garage and the truck was parked where it had been for weeks.

He walked out the back door and headed in the direction of the barn. Halfway there he heard laughter, Breezy's and the twins'. The sound drifted on the wind and seemed to come from the field behind the house. He opened the gate and paused, waiting for more laughter, maybe conversation that might lead him in the right direction. After several seconds he heard Breezy yell, “Timber!”

That did it. He ran in the direction of her voice, coming to a sudden stop as he spotted her, the twins and an Arizona cypress toppling to the ground. She stood a good distance back from the tree. The twins were in a wagon that had been kept in the garage. She was holding the handle of the wagon with one hand and a saw in the other. When she spotted him she waved the saw and then pointed to the fallen tree.

“What are you doing?” He smiled at Rosie and Violet. “You girls having fun?”

Rosie nodded. Violet pointed to the tree, her mouth open and her eyes wide. “Tree,” they both said.

“Yes, a Christmas tree.” Breezy looked far too pleased and that only annoyed him more.

“What in the world are you thinking?”

“That if I'm going to make this house my home, I need a tree.” She looked surprised and a little bit annoyed.

“I could have gotten you a tree. As a matter of fact, there's probably one in the attic.”

“I wanted a real tree. I've never had one.”

She brushed at a few strands of hair blowing in the wind even though she wore a cap pulled down tight. Her eyes were bright toffee and her pink lips parted in an excited grin.

How did she do that? How did she look like a child and a fantastically gorgeous woman all at the same time? He allowed himself a minute to look at her, at all of that blond hair flowing out from beneath a white knit cap. She'd worn an old canvas coat, probably Lawton's, with a white sweater, jeans and brown riding boots.

“Anyway,” she was saying, “I thought it wouldn't be hard to cut one down. I hope it's okay to do that.”

“Yes, it's okay.” It wasn't okay to turn him inside out this way. It wasn't okay to look like a woman he wanted to kiss. Again.

None of this was okay and Lawton should have known better. He was angry. Angry with himself, with her for being so tempting, and angry with Lawton for leaving them alone in this mess.

“Jake?”

He brushed a hand over his face and then raised that same hand to stop her. He just needed a minute. She started to say something. He held up one finger. Surely she could understand. He needed a minute. One quiet minute to get past the loss of a sister and his best friend.

He needed more quiet moments to figure out what exactly she was doing to his calm, very ordered existence.

When he opened his eyes, she was still watching him and the twins were staring, as well. They wore identical looks of doubt. Of course they did. All three of them were doubting his sanity and his ability to take care of them. And that's what got him. Lawton hadn't added a partner, he'd added one more person Jake felt the need to care for.

The empty house had shaken him. He tried to write off this roller coaster of emotions as fear. He hadn't expected to find her gone. He had panicked. But they were fine.

“Let's get that tree back to the house.” He pulled gloves out of his jacket pocket and put them on. Without anything further said, he grabbed the end of the tree and trudged along next to Breezy, who pulled the wagon.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered halfway to the house. The twins had climbed out of the wagon and were walking alongside the tree, telling him in their toddler voices that they could help.

“No need to be sorry.” He said it with an ease that surprised him. “You wanted a tree. I should have gotten you a tree.”

She glanced at him then. She looked mad. Maybe close to furious. They didn't know each other, didn't know the right words to say or what the other person was thinking.

When people had children together, it was a given that they would know each other. He and Breezy were walking through a field of land mines.

“I don't need for you to get me a tree, Jake. I don't need you to take care of me. That isn't why I'm here. Lawton didn't leave me to you. He didn't ask you to take care of me, too. I'm here to help you. I've taken care of myself for a long, long time.”

“Right, of course.”

“Jake, I'm not the kind of woman that needs a man to run to my rescue. I won't ask you to hang curtains, kill wasps or slay dragons.”

He wondered why she was so against allowing a man to do those things for her. He didn't ask. Asking would have dragged him further into her life. She was kind enough to give him an out and he should take it.

He dropped the tree in the yard. He would have to find a stand for it. And she'd have to clear a space in the living room. He would have explained but she trudged up the steps ahead of him. The twins following close behind.

As they entered the house he noticed what he hadn't before. It smelled wonderful. The kinds of smells that made his stomach rumble with hunger.

She must have heard because she laughed. “You're welcomed to stay for dinner.”

“That isn't tofu, is it?”

She shook her head as he followed her to the kitchen. “No, it's bread and homemade stew.”

“You cook?”

She nodded and lifted the lid from the slow cooker. “I'm learning. I've never had a kitchen of my own, not really. In Dawson I worked a lot, waitressing, and I ate at the restaurant. Before that I lived in California in an efficiency that was less than efficient. It was one room with a bed, microwave and dorm-size fridge.”

“Why did you stay there?”

She stirred the stew and then took a careful taste. He waited for an answer and wondered if it was too much to ask. Maybe they didn't need to know each other's stories. But then, she knew his.

“I stayed because I didn't know what else to do. I don't have a real education so I couldn't get a decent job. My income kept me where I was.”

“You didn't call your sister?”

She shook her head. “I was five when Maria took me. I didn't remember Mia's last name. I didn't know where she'd been taken to.”

“What happened to Maria?”

The lid clanged a little on the cooker. She righted it and set the spoon on a plate. “She died when I was nineteen.” She cleared her throat. “This will be ready in an hour. Let's put the tree up.”

“Breezy...”

She shook her head. “No. Let's stop with the past. We all have one and we all have to make choices about how we live today, how we live tomorrow. I've had great experiences and bad experiences. I define who I am today.”

“Experiences do change who we are.”

“Right, but they don't have to destroy us. Those experiences don't have to take our joy or make us afraid to take chances.”

“I guess you're right.”

She grinned and he noticed the slight dimple in her left cheek. “I know I'm right.”

* * *

After Jake put the tree in a stand, he disappeared into the garage to find ornaments. Breezy brought a box from the kitchen and set it on the table. The twins peered inside, smiling and reaching for the decorations they'd made with dough. She'd found the recipe in an old cookbook, one that said it had belonged to Lawton's grandmother. At last she'd found family recipes. It made her feel connected. She'd had a grandmother. She had a past, ancestors, connections. She now had what so many people took for granted: her history.

“What's this?” Jake returned carrying a tub that he sat on the floor next to the tree. He sat down on the sofa and watched as she strung ribbon through holes in the baked and decorated dough decorations.

“We made these.” She handed a star to Rosie and a tree to Violet.

Jake picked one up, tapped it, held it to his mouth. Breezy watched, not sure he would actually take a bite. Surely he wouldn't. He started to.

“Don't eat it!”

He pulled it back and shot a look at the twins. Both girls wore big grins and now had their decorations up to their mouths, ornery looks in their blue eyes.

“No eating, girls,” he said in mock seriousness.

They giggled at him, all three of them. Breezy wanted the moment to go on. She wanted to decorate a tree, maybe drink hot cocoa and eat the cookies she'd also made that morning. Maybe this would become a tradition, their tradition.

“So we have a tub full of decorations and yet you felt inclined to make your own?” he asked as he pulled lights and a few other decorations from the tub.

She shrugged slim shoulders and he noticed a faint pink in her cheeks. “It seemed like the thing to do.”

“Making decorations?” He really didn't get it. Maybe he didn't need to.

“I found the recipe in a family cookbook and there were paints and glitter in a craft room upstairs. I hope that's okay.” She had felt strange, wandering through the house last night after the girls had gone to sleep.

“Of course it is. I'll repeat, you live here.”

Yes, it was her house, but it wasn't. The craft room had an abundance of supplies and a half-finished toddler-size dress on the sewing machine. The bedroom that had belonged to Lawton and Elizabeth still had towels hanging next to the shower.

She'd found family photo albums with pictures of her father, his parents, his siblings. There were pictures of Lawton with his parents. She'd sat for a long time with that photo album, picturing herself in their lives and being unable to, because she hadn't existed to them.

But she had her own life. She had memories of who she had been and where she had lived. It was tough but she had to blend who she had always been with the person she now knew herself to be. The daughter of a senator.

“Let's decorate the tree.” She stood, ready to let go of the thoughts that brought her nothing but regret. She reached for the ornament she'd bought at Oregon's shop.

“That's new.” Jake took a closer look.

She nodded and hung the ornament up high on a sturdy branch. “Do you want to string lights before we get too far into the process of hanging decorations?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He opened the tub and pulled out a box of lights. “You'll have to help.”

She shifted away from the tree and noticed the girls were still sitting with their decorations. They looked perfectly innocent.

“You girls sit and as soon as the lights are up, we'll hang your ornaments.”

They smiled at her, perfectly sweet smiles. She looked to Jake. He glanced at the girls, then at her. “Suspicious.”

“Very.” She shrugged it off. “If you go behind the tree you can string them on that side and pass the lights for me to wrap around this side.”

From her side of the tree she watched as he started the lights at the top of the tree and then wrapped them around, handing them off to her. She took the lights and wrapped them around the front, passing back to him. And down the tree they worked. At times their hands would touch briefly and she would wonder how this would be in a year or five years. What if he found someone and married?

What would it be like if he had his own family? Would he still include her and the twins? Would they all get together on holidays? Would the twins spend half of their time with him and his family? Round and round the thoughts went, like the lights being wrapped around the tree, and she had to stop.

“Where'd you go, Hernandez?” He pushed the string of lights at her.

“I'm here.”

“You're quiet.” He handed her the strand of lights for the last time.

She finished and the two of them stepped back to survey their work after Jake plugged the lights in. The clear lights twinkled and the tree was beautiful, even with just the one ornament in place. The twins were in awe. At least for a moment.

“Come on, girls, let's hang your ornaments.” Breezy held out the box to Jake and he took several. “You get the top half.”

Violet and Rosie hung their ornaments side by side and came back for more. Violet took an angel. Rosie took a shepherd. Each time they hung their ornaments side by side, jabbering in a language only they understood.

Jake pulled another box of ornaments from the tub. He handed Breezy one that told the birthday of the twins and their names on one side. On the other it had a picture of them as newborns. She hung it closer to the top so it wouldn't fall and get broken. Jake hung a snowflake with a family picture—Lawton, Elizabeth and the twins.

Each ornament felt like a piece of history, a piece of her family. As Jake finished, holding the twins to hang decorations on the higher branches, Breezy stepped back to survey the job they'd done. Jake caught her eye and she gave him a thumbs-up before picking up the box with the nativity Lefty Mueller had given her. She touched the hand-carved pieces, took them out and arranged them on the fireplace mantel with Christmas lights behind them. Jake came to stand near her right shoulder.

“One of Lefty's?”

She nodded as she watched the lights twinkle and the nativity caught the soft glow. “Yes.”

“It's beautiful.”

“Yes, it is. I've always wanted one.” It was one of her contributions to their new traditions, but he wouldn't understand. He wouldn't understand what it meant to have keepsake ornaments, a nativity and something handmade with the twins to keep year after year.

This was the place where she would stay. She would be here next year to carry on these traditions with Rosie and Violet.

She would create memories for all of them. And stability that made them feel safe each night, not afraid to sleep, not afraid of where they would be the next day or next week. She would give them everything she'd never had, including family.