The words inflicted a niggling pain that slipped beneath Tucker’s ribs. He remembered that after his dad left. The loneliness. But instead of seeking out connections with people like Benny seemed to being doing, he’d shut down that part of himself.
“So what’s your favorite Christmas song to sing?” Benny tugged on his hand and started toward the doors.
“Oh. Uh…” Tucker couldn’t remember the last time he’d sung a Christmas song. “Well, I guess it would have to be ‘Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town.’” At least that’s what it had been when he was a kid.
Benny’s eyes got even bigger. “That’s mine too!” He broke out into song, hitting all the right notes, while Tucker led him into the sanctuary.
Instead of music and singing, the room was complete pandemonium. All of the kids were gathered around the stage, and some of them were crying.
What the—
“Find Tucker!” Kenna yelled from where she crouched on her knees in the center of the stage.
As a couple of kids dashed to follow her instruction, he saw his mom lying on the floor next to Kenna.
It took him a second to move, to let go of Benny’s hand and sprint down the aisle. He stumbled up the steps to where his mom lay and knelt across from Kenna, but his throat burned too hot to speak.
“She collapsed,” Kenna said, her voice shaky. “I’ve called an ambulance. They’re on their way.” She held his mom’s hand in both of hers. “I feel a pulse. It’s weak, but I still feel it.”
Tucker nodded, everything blurred and slow and surreal. He touched his mom’s forehead. “Mom. Wake up.” He should’ve known she wasn’t okay. He should’ve made her sit down. Or better yet, he should’ve taken her right to the hospital.
Sirens whined in the distance, but he couldn’t do anything while they waited. He couldn’t help her, couldn’t fix anything when he didn’t know what was wrong.
“Kids…” Kenna looked up at the crowd surrounding them. “I need you to give us some space. Okay? The paramedics will be here in a minute and we need space. Please go sit in your seats. Everything will be fine.”
Tucker latched on to those words as the kids slowly scattered. Everything would be fine. His mom would be fine.
“Hold on, Mom,” he murmured over her. She had to hold on.
Chapter Three
Snow blew against the car, nearly covering Kenna’s windshield before the wiper blades could clear it again. Even with the four-wheel-drive on in her Jeep, the tires skidded and fishtailed on the icy road, but she was determined to make it to the hospital.
Somehow she’d managed to pull herself together enough to get the kids through the last half hour of rehearsal until their parents showed up. They were all traumatized after witnessing Birdie collapse, so Kenna had invited them to gather in a circle and they’d each shared what they liked best about Ms. McGrath. The kids had gone on and on about her singing voice and her hugs and happy smile. They’d talked about her love for Christmas and about how she always gave them special presents the night of the pageant.
When little Sam had asked if she was going to die, Kenna had told them not to worry, that the doctors were taking care of Birdie and everything would be okay.
But she didn’t know that for sure. She’d tried to call the hospital but no one would tell her anything because she wasn’t family.
Oh this damn snow. It was taking her twice as long to get to the hospital as it should. She pushed the gas pedal just a smidge harder since Jake and Benny weren’t in the car with her.
When the parents had started to stream in to pick up their kids, Kenna had called her dear friends Mateo and Everly Torres and asked if they could pick up the boys and take them to their house for a while. She didn’t know what she’d find at the hospital, but she didn’t want Jake and Benny any more upset than they already were.
A round of hot, stinging tears only added to the terrible visibility outside the windshield. She couldn’t stop thinking about Tucker, about how brittle his voice had sounded as they were loading his mom onto the stretcher, how hollow his eyes had looked when he’d followed her down the aisle. He’d gone from big strong cowboy to lost little boy in the matter of a few seconds.
Kenna swallowed back the tears. Birdie had to be okay. She couldn’t quite imagine Topaz Falls—Christmas in Topaz Falls—without her.
Finally the hospital came into view on the right. She slowed way down to turn into the parking lot, which was mostly deserted considering the terrible weather. Without bothering to pull on her hat and gloves, she grabbed the keys from the ignition and climbed out of the car, shielding her face from the pelting snowflakes. Trudging through shin-deep snow, she blazed a path to the emergency room entrance and rushed through the doors.
Only a couple of people sat in the waiting room, and she suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. It wasn’t like she was family. Maybe Tucker wouldn’t even want her here. Still, she had to do something, so she approached the reception desk, which was decorated with festive garlands and peppermint candies. Just as she was about to ask the receptionist for an update on Birdie, Tucker strode by, heading for the doors that led back to the exam rooms.
“Wait!” She called, chasing him down. Her hair was wet from the snow, sticking to her forehead, and her makeup was probably running, too, but that didn’t matter. “Tucker! How’s your mom?”
It seemed to take a minute for him to recognize her. He blinked a few times. “Oh. You came.”
“Of course I came. Birdie is—” Well what could she say without bursting into tears? His mom was an inspiration to her, walking proof that there was life after betrayal. Not just life, but happiness too. “Birdie means a lot to me. And to the kids. I wanted to check on her. Is she going to be okay?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead he darted a quick look at his phone before slipping it into his pocket. “She has myocarditis. Inflammation of the heart muscle brought on by a lupus flare.”
Oh God. That sounded bad. He sounded bad. Tired and crushed.
“She also had a minor heart attack,” he went on. “But she’s stable now.” That didn’t appear to give him much comfort, though.
A group of loud talkers passed by them, so Kenna tugged him to a quiet corner. “What’s the prognosis?” she asked, barely holding her voice together.
He slumped against the wall. “She needs to rest. They’ll keep her here while they try some new therapies for the inflammation and the lupus. But she can’t do anything, even after she gets out. She’ll have to take it easy for at least a month.”
Okay. The tightness in her chest loosened some. It still sounded serious, but Birdie was going to make it. “She’s not going to want to take it easy. Especially with the pageant three weeks away.” If they weren’t careful, Birdie would sneak out of the hospital so she could be at the next rehearsal. “We’ll have to cancel. That way she won’t be tempted to rush her recovery.”
Tucker’s expression grew even more pained. “We’re not canceling. She made me promise to direct the pageant. In the ambulance when she came to. I couldn’t tell her no.” He brought a hand to his head like he was trying to knead away a headache. “But I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I can’t direct a play. With singing. And acting. And thirty wild kids…” He stared at the blank wall across from them as though he were watching a horror film.
She almost laughed. Yes, managing the pageant could definitely be overwhelming, but he wouldn’t have to do it alone. “Maybe you can’t do it, but we could. Together.”
He suddenly angled his head to stare at her. “Together?”
For some reason he made that sound like a bad thing. “Sure. If you want my help, that is.” It wouldn’t be any picnic for her either, working side by side with a cowboy who’d once starred in a few of her racier teenaged dreams, but what could it hurt? It’s not like Tucker would ever be interested in someone like her anyway. If memory served, he’d gravitated toward the younger, freer female demographic as opposed to mom
mies over thirty. Actually, that’s what made it so perfect. There would be no expectations on either side. “What do you think?” she asked. “Are we partners?”
“Yeah.” Something about the way Tucker’s gaze slowly drifted over her made her wish she’d actually changed her clothes and brushed her hair after her wild day work. “I guess we are.”
The second Tucker showed up outside his mom’s hospital room, the guilt closed in, lodging itself right above his gut. He’d almost lost her last night. Seeing her lifeless on the floor had triggered something in him. Enough screwing around. He’d wasted years avoiding her favorite holiday when he could’ve been making memories with her. That would stop now. He plowed through the door, driven by the need to fix things so he could shed the regrets.
“Tucker!” His mom set down her knitting and cleared a space for him on the bed next to her. “What’re you doing here so early?” she asked, tipping her bifocals to the edge of her nose like she wanted to get a better look at him. For having had a cardiac episode last night, she sure looked healthy. Her eyes were bright and her hair had even been combed. That made sense considering she had half of her house here in the hospital room with her. Even while the doctors were still evaluating her in the ER, she’d written Tucker a neat list of everything she wanted him to bring her from home. After she was stable, he’d made two trips and he still hadn’t gotten everything.
“You look like you hardly slept, son.” Birdie leaned forward, her eyes channeling concern.
“Of course I didn’t sleep.” He sat on the bed beside her. “I’m worried about you.” He would’ve stayed right by her bedside all night if she hadn’t kicked him out at midnight for being “too tense.”
“There’s absolutely nothing to worry about,” she assured him, picking up her yarn and needles again. “I’m really feeling much better this morning. After some antibiotics and a few more treatments, I’ll be good as new. Hopefully in time for Christmas.”
Not hopefully…he would make sure. “Christmas is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Christmas?” Her hands lowered to her lap, taking the needles and yarn with them. “Oh. Right. I know you’ll be busy, dear.” She made a valiant effort to seem upbeat, but he didn’t miss how much her smile wobbled. “That’s okay. I love helping out at the assisted living place. They don’t get nearly enough volunteers there on Christmas, so I can spend the whole day serving food and visiting with the residents like I did last year. It really was such fun.”
Yet again, she was letting him off the hook for Christmas. He’d always made it a point to volunteer at the Cortez Ranch on Christmas. It had seemed better to keep busy than to dwell on the fun memories his dad had left him with, but this year he’d step up. “You’re not volunteering, Mom.” He waited until her eyes met his. “Because we’re going to celebrate Christmas together.” He was going to make up for all those years he’d blown off her favorite holiday.
“What do you mean celebrate?” He recognized the skepticism in her voice. After fifteen years of not sitting down to one Christmas dinner with her, she obviously didn’t have high hopes. “How would we celebrate?”
He had no damn clue how, but this wasn’t the first time he’d had to pull answers out of his ass. “Well…we’ll have a dinner. I’ll cook. Turkey, mashed potatoes, that green bean stuff you like. The whole shebang.” Not that he had any clue how to make that stuff. He’d have to enlist help from Everly Torres. “And we’ll get presents,” he went on, prodded by her growing smile. “Lots of presents.” One for every Christmas he’d missed.
“Tucker.” She took his hand, her eyes glistening. “I don’t care about the presents. Just the fact that we’ll be spending the day together this year is enough.”
That blade of guilt still lodged under his ribs twisted. “I should’ve been home every year. I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“Forget it,” she said, abandoning her knitting so she could squeeze both of his hands. “It’s this year that matters. Oh, we’ll have such fun!” She let out a gasp. “Maybe we should invite Kenna and her boys! I don’t know that they have anywhere to go for the holiday.”
“Oh.” No. Inviting Kenna to share Christmas with them was a bad idea. “I’m sure they already have plans. She has friends.” And he would already be spending enough time pretending the woman didn’t affect his heart rate now that they were co-directing the play. When she’d shown up at the hospital last night, he’d felt that spark, the one that had pinged back and forth between them when they’d chatted at the rehearsal. Only difference was it had gotten stronger. Granted, he’d been kind of a wreck, so maybe that was why it had hit him so hard. He’d been mighty tempted to decline her offer to help with the pageant but he couldn’t pull off something of that magnitude by himself. “I’m sure Kenna won’t want to come to Christmas dinner.”
“And why is that?” His mother eyed him, but he looked away. “You said she offered to help you with the pageant.”
“Yeah, but she’s real busy. With the kids and everything.” He racked his brain to come up with additional excuses.
“That’s even more reason to invite them,” his mom insisted. “She deserves to have someone make her a nice meal. And think of the joy those boys would bring into my house.”
Tucker thought about Benny, about how open and curious he was, about how he’d reached out and grabbed Tucker’s hand without a thought. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” Benny had already kind of latched on to him at the rehearsal. Not that he’d minded, but he didn’t want to disappoint the kid. He wasn’t exactly qualified to become someone’s hero. “It’d probably be best if it was just us.”
His mom’s mouth pursed in blatant disagreement. “Best for you, maybe.” Her fierce gaze gave him nowhere to hide. “Why won’t you let yourself get close to anyone, Tucker?”
What would be the point? Right now, he had what he needed without opening himself up for more disappointment. He didn’t rely on anyone else and no one relied on him. Life was less complicated that way. But he wasn’t prepared to discuss any of that with his mom.
His silence didn’t seem to deter her. “I know your father hurt you, but he wasn’t all bad. In fact, you remind me of him in so many ways.”
That was the last thing he wanted to hear right now.
“Really, son. Don’t you remember? He could be such fun. He always made us laugh. Never took things too seriously.”
“Yeah, and he walked out.” Tucker stood. He couldn’t sit here and reminisce about a man he wanted nothing do with. And he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about their similarities.
Determination steeled his mom’s eyes. “What is it going to take for you to forgive him, son?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
She accepted the avoidance with a nod. “Then I think maybe it’s time for you to figure that out.”
Chapter Four
By the time Kenna pulled up in front of town hall, Tucker had already unloaded the rest of the supplies they’d need to finish building the set—paint, lumber, tools. He’d stacked everything on a rolling cart and was pushing it up the sidewalk.
“Sorry I’m late,” she called, climbing out of the Jeep. She almost gave him an explanation but thought better of revealing that she’d changed her clothes three times before she’d left the house. Hopefully the jeans and sweater she’d settled on didn’t scream I’m trying too hard. It’s not like she was nervous to be working alone with him, exactly. More like…aware. It was high time for her to start projecting a new image of herself. Instead of Poor Kenna, she wanted to be seen as Capable Kenna. If their conversation at the hospital had been any indication, Tucker wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of working with her, probably because he assumed she was still the weak, sad, charity case everyone made her out to be. So tonight she’d show him that simply wasn’t true.
“You’re not that late.” Instead of looking at her, Tucker paused to organize the paint cans on the cart into
neat rows, and then started toward the building again.
Yeah, he definitely didn’t look happy to see her, but she’d prove that she could be an asset in this partnership. She might not have stellar construction skills, but she could learn. “Wait up.” She followed behind him, and then awkwardly bumped past him and accidentally stepped on his toe in her haste to open the door.
Okay, asset might be too strong a word…
“Thanks.” His gaze hardly grazed hers and he maneuvered the cart inside. Without a glance back, he continued on down the hall.
After being so chatty the other night before his mom collapsed, he’d sure clammed up all of a sudden. Kenna had heard Birdie was doing well these last couple of days, but maybe Tucker was still worried.
Once they’d made it into the auditorium, he bent to unload the items from the cart onto the floor. The flannel shirt he wore crept up his back, revealing a peek of tanned, hard flesh—cowboy muscle all tawny and knotted. The very tips of her cheeks blazed with a sudden heated rush that reached the tops of her ears.
What was wrong with her? It was only his back. It had simply been too long since she’d allowed herself the luxury of looking at a man, appreciating a man’s body. And Tucker had plenty to appreciate.
“So what’s the plan?” She peeled off her coat and tossed it onto a nearby pew, hoping that would cool her off.
“Well, I was thinking we could build the new risers over there.” Tucker pointed out the left wing of the stage. “And the wooden stable structure can go in the middle.” He rummaged through the pile of supplies until he lifted a box that was overflowing with white globe lights.
“What are those for?”
“Mom thought they’d add something to the set.” He jogged up the stage steps. “She wants us to string them along the frame of the stable to add more light.”
Christmas with a Cowboy Page 29
